Page 17 of Surrender
He was on edge, and I didn’t blame him, to be honest.
He’d been pulled over a few weeks ago because he’d run a stoplight,so the cop said. It should have been a fine at the most, but instead, he’d gotten a fucking citation to come to court.
“This is stupid,” Whip muttered under his breath, tugging at the collar of his suit. “What am I even doing here?”
“Apparently, you’re a menace to society,” I whispered, not that it really mattered because the only other people in the small courtroom were me, Hawk, Match, the court reporter, and the other lawyer, who was happily tapping away on his cell, acting completely uninterested.
Hopefully, that meant this would be quick.
Surely, with the slicked-back hair and shiny shoes he was wearing, he had far more important shit to be doing than a traffic light violation.
The door to the right of the room opened, and a bailiff stepped through, holding the door for the judge. Everyone rose to their feet as the older man shuffled toward his bench.
“All right,” he announced as we all took our seats, his eyes scanning the papers in front of him with a heavy frown. “Alexander Morris. Running a red light…” He paused, lifting his eyes and looking across the room at the prosecutor’s desk. “Mr. Carrington, I’m going to assume you aren’t wasting my time fora simple traffic violation.”
“No, your Honor,” came a voice from the prosecution, Mr. Carrington finally putting his phone down and getting to his feet to address the judge. He tugged at his cuffs and pushed his shoulders back as if he were preparing to deliver opening statements at a murder trial. “Upon closer inspection of the officer’s notes, his account of what happened, and witness interviews, we believe there is evidence to suggest much stronger charges could be warranted.”
Hawk shifted beside me, folding his arms across his chest.
This wasn’t fucking good.
“And what might those charges be, Mr. Carrington?” the judge questioned, his tone still sharp and skeptical.
“Failure to stop for police, witness intimidation, and resisting arrest,” Carrington listed casually, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You see, Your Honor, Mr. Morris is a part of a well-known outlaw motorcycle club, and we believe that this incident is a part of a pattern of behavior that these men have. Making sure that we scrutinize their illegal movements, no matter how big or small, is going to keep our city safe.”
I leaned into Hawk. “What the fuck is happening?”
Hawk’s voice was a low growl. “He’s starting a fucking war.”
Dane stood from his place at the defense table, his jaw clenched tight. He was one of the few suits we trusted, and he’d proved his worth time and time again.
Thankfully, he was a lot like us.
A man who believed in justice and who knew that sometimes, it didn’t get served within a courtroom.
“Your Honor, the state’s case has clearly shifted from a citation to a politically motivated sideshow,” Dane announced loudly, glaring at the prosecution whose smug grin was making my fist itch. “It seems to me that Mr. Carrington is looking to make a name for himself in his new position, and while I canappreciate hisenthusiasm, I’d prefer him not to use my client as a pawn in his career path.”
Carrington chuckled, holding his hands out. “Your Honor, I am doing the job I have beenelectedto do. The people of Detroit want change, they want to feel safe, and that means holding criminals accountable for their actions.”
Dane’s shocked laughter did nothing to hide the outrage on his face. “It was a red light! Not only are the additional allegations ridiculous, but the state has not made us aware of any of this new evidence or handed over any discovery that even backs it up.”
“All right, all right, Mr. Mercer,” the judge warned sternly, waving his hands for the men to sit down. “I hear you, and I’m inclined to agree with the defense, Mr. Carrington.”
You could feel the collective sigh that settled across the room.
Even Dane’s shoulders relaxed just slightly, and he was paid not to get overwhelmed.
“Mr. Carrington, while I… like Mr. Mercer…appreciate your enthusiasm,” the judge continued, clasping his hands on the table in front of him. “What I do not appreciate are courtroom theatrics. Mr. Morris here will be getting a fine today for running a red light, and that is all.”
“Your Honor, I—”
“Next time,” the Judge cut Carrington off sharply, firing off one last narrowed glare at the prosecution table. “I expect you to file a formal motion.” He scribbled a signature onto the papers in front of him and passed them off to the clerk. “You’re all dismissed.”
We got to our feet as the judge walked out, everyone except Carrington. Hell, for someone who was meant to be representing the state, he sure didn’t give a fuck who he pissed off and disrespected.
“Care to explain what the fuck is going on?” Hawk murmured,his arms folded tightly across his chest as we formed a tight huddle with Dane. “He really thought he was gonna come in here and have Whip up on resisting arrest for going through a fucking red light?”
Dane shook his head. “Nope. He knew it was never going to work,” Dane explained, knowing his voice was loud enough for the bastard to hear. “He came in with all that shit, knowing this judge especially wasn’t going to take it.”
