Page 68 of All Mine

When Eddie stepped around Camden, Stephen came into view with his hands clamped over his nose, blood dripping from his fingers.

“You broke my nose,” Stephen yelled through his fingers, voice muffled.

“All right guys, come on, let’s go,” Eddie said.

“I need a doctor,” Stephen whined.

Twenty-Six

Camden

The day had added another set of firsts to my growing list in the Hart Valley Project. Unfortunately, those included punching a client, getting booked into jail, and more than likely fired. But he’d backhanded Lauren with a thoughtless ease like it wasn’t his first time. And my fist cleaned his clock on instinct. I only regret that I didn’t have time to check on Lauren before they ushered me from the room and loaded me into a patrol car.

I sat alone on a bench in a holding cell in the town jail with swollen and bruised knuckles, kicking the concrete floor with the toe of my shoe. This entire time my client had been Lauren’s ex-husband. I cannot believe that Lauren married that creep. No wonder he insisted I break things off with her. Stupid move on my part. I should never have left her. Now, I’ve lost the girl and the job.

Why did Stephen want the property? He’d insisted on this location. Did he still love her? Is that why? No, he delighted in the prospect of kicking her out of the bakery. This was revenge for leaving him, plain and simple. Stephen’s wounded ego still hadn’t recovered, and yet she’d left him with everything, except her business. She lived in a one room attic just to get out of the marriage. The business she built was her entire world.

But, I never listened to why she was adamantly against this from the start. God, I was an asshole. I dropped my head back against the cinder block wall. I’d created a great new floor plan for a bakery in my new building. It was my best work yet, and I was super excited to show Lauren, hoping it would convince her to forgive me if the town voted for the sale. Although, maybe the town voting against the sale would be for the best.

The door opened, and a uniformed officer walked Stephen in, his nose in a splint and packed with gauze.

“I’m not going in there with him,” Stephen said, with a nasal tone in his voice.

It served him right.

“You’re going in the other holding cell,” the officer said.

“I shouldn’t be here at all. I’m a victim, and I’m in pain.”

“You hit Lauren, and she’s pressing charges,” the officer replied.

“What a bitch,” Stephen muttered.

“That’s enough,” the officer barked, opening the other cell and shoving Stephen inside. He stumbled a few steps but didn’t fall.

“Can I make my bail now?” I asked, not wanting to stay here any longer than necessary. I absently rubbed my fingers over my swollen knuckles.

“Your bail hasn’t been set yet.”

“And I want to press charges of assault and battery against him. And include civil harassment charges. I’m suing you, Carter.”

“What a little bitch,” I muttered.

“Hey,” Stephen yelled. “How dare you disrespect me?”

“Pipe down and calm yourself, counselor. You hit a woman first. No one will side with you on this.” The officer turned and left, closing the door behind him. The overhead lights blasted a ray of blinding white light down on the room, making it an uncomfortably bright place.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Stephen hissed.

“In what world was what you did remotely okay?”

“I should have fired you when I found out you couldn’t keep your hands off my ex-wife.”

“How did you find out?”

“I have my sources.”

“There are no secrets in this town.”

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