Page 21 of The Heir

“I’d do anything for my family, and I’d support them through any decision. Good or bad… but it doesn’t mean I have to go around wasting my energy feeling bad or sad for their choices. They made them, same as me.”

He gave a slow nod, and the lines around his eyes softened a little.

“I didn’t mean–” Easy quietly began.

“I lost my mother, too, Easy. I was holding her fucking hand when–”

“I snatched you up before you could have possibly had time to realize it was limp.” He whispered, placing his hand on mine. “You were holding her hand and walking across the clubhouse when the bullets started flying…”

He got that look in his eye that Easy sometimes did when he talked about the past, like he wasn’t there, even though he was right in front of me.

“But it does go limp.” I blurted out, causing his eyes to snap toward mine.

“I mean… in my dreams.” I stammered, and quickly jerked my hand away to fuss with my hair.

“You know, my nephew used to dream of his father. I mean, that’s what Oak told me…” Easy started to say, until the bailiff cleared his throat.

“All rise,” he loudly called.

The entire courtroom stood for the judge’s entry and introduction.

“You may be seated.” The judge almost sounded bored. His gaze drifted from his papers to the door to the jailhouse as it opened. He must have expected much of the same, because his attention was halfway back to his bench when May’s almost manic tone wafted from the hall.

“Tell that bitch I hope he rots in jail. When they scrape his carcass up and ship him out, I hope he rots in hell a little while after that. Stupid, mother fucker.”

“Your honor the first case on the docket is–” Megan Tripp began.

“Yes, that’ll be all for a moment. Excuse me, Miss Tripp,” the Judge stammered, his expression growing stern as the orange clad prisoners finally finished filing inside. “Which one of you said that?”

There were six men shackled together at the ankle, but none of them spoke. Most of them had the good sense to stare at their rubber prison shoes. Mayhem stared at the flag, a smirk on his face.

“Jesus,” Easy scoffed under his breath.

Blaze was staring directly at his honor, unfazed by the confrontation.

“Do you have something to say?” The judge’s face pinked, and he seemed to be addressing Blaze directly.

“Your Honor, he does not.” Oak loudly, and firmly spoke up from the pew in front of me.

The judge’s gaze shifted to Oak’s massive frame, and he gave a nod of respect.

“He’d better not.”

From the side profile I saw Blaze mouth, ‘wow’.

“Found your tongue, son?” the judge clipped.

Blaze took a deep breath, “I said I’d like to go first when it pleases his honor to move things along.”

The crowd gasped as one and Crystal jerked around, parking her arm on the top of the pew to glare back at Easy.

“This is all you,” she hissed, with a murderous gleam in her eye.

“Crystal, turn around.” Oak ground out, under his breath.

The judge was staring at us.

“Miss Tripp, who do we have?”

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