Page 52 of The Heir

“Hold it,” Two officers hopped the fence and tackled me, jerking me to my stomach in a way that sent pain reeling through my body.

I cried out, unable to help it and all hell broke loose behind me.

“Racing. Wasn’t nobody racing. Bitch, look at that grass. Who the fuck taught you how to mow, anyhow? Are you trying to fuckin’ kill somebody. Sounds a lot like you don’t like motorcycles or the people who ride them. You know– Us bikers.”

She shrieked like he’d drawn a gun on her and clutched her chest, placing herself behind a few of the other police officers who were quickly joining them.

“My husband mows our lawn. He works hard!”

“Well, fuckin’ tell him to blow the shit back on the lawn next time, not on the road, where it then becomes a hazard. Huh?” Mak roared.

“How dare you speak to me that way. Listen to your filthy mouth,” she squeaked, full of indignation.

I focused on her, willing myself to ignore the pain that was shooting through my ribs.

“Get off of him.” Easy was belligerent, which only seemed to drive their knee into my shoulder worse.

“Yeah. How about no,” the officer growled. “You don’t get to tell us what to do when we get called to scrape up your messes, Eric.”

I felt the metal of the cuffs and heard them click.

“We good?” I heard the officer on the right ask before I was jerked to my feet.

“Weren’t you just in the back of my car?” he asked, once we were face to face.

I shrugged, not wanting to engage in a bigger dick contest.

“Cat got your tongue once you meet something that doesn’t cower, huh?”

I huffed, and closed my eyes, before giving in, “Send something with tits next time if you want me to keep you cocksuckers straight. Fuckin’ county rookies all look the same.” The one on my right opened the door of the squad car and the mouthy one gave me a shove and a quick kidney shot that left me reeling in his backseat and gagging all over again.

I closed my eyes and focused on the memory of the cemetery. I went over the names and dates as the car slowly rolled through traffic. There was no real purpose to my recounting the steps, other than having something besides the pain to focus on.

When the car stopped, we were inside the same garage as before. It led into the processing part of the police department. It was much slower moving through the paces this time, but it was more my fault than theirs. I slumped against the counter while they fingerprinted me and asked all the questions.

“You know I just answered this shit like two days ago,” I told the officer.

“I did not, but we have to say it every time. Even if it is twice a day.” She chuckled like it was something she explained often and then led me to the holding tank. “The judge actually has a pretty light schedule, so they might get you in this morning.”

“Great.” I grunted and stretched out on the bench.

There wasn’t any way to get comfortable on them damn things when one was in good shape, being banged up like that? I was fuckin’ miserable. It was the slowest three hours of my life, but the cheerful, cherub-cheeked guard appeared just before lunch.

“Alright, Aviston, you’re up,” she announced with a smile.

“Thanks,” I managed, much quicker than I was able to react. I grabbed the edge of the bench and held my ribs as I righted myself and found my feet.

“You good?” Her voice was so filled with concern, it was like a joke.

“Have you always worked for law enforcement?” I asked, causing her to smile and look away.

“This way, please,” she directed rather than answering me.

I followed her down several hallways that erupted into the courtroom just as I remembered.

The judge glared at me as I rounded to the bench that I’d been instructed to sit on with the other prisoners the last time we entered.

“Over here, Aviston,” the guard instructed, coming to rest beside the defense table.

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