Page 17 of Dean Daddy

“Is Mason alright?” I mutter.

“Yes, ma’am. He’s holding up fine. I was very surprised when I heard that he was arrested. Mason has always been an upstanding citizen and a supporter of law enforcement. I knew that there had to be something more to the story and when he explained what happened to you, it began to make more sense. Now, I don’t know why you chose not to press charges against this young man, but I would strongly urge you to do so,” he tells me.

“I don’t even know his name. How do I press charges against someone when I don’t know their name?” I ask him.

“I have that information. That’s not a problem,” he assures me.

“And how does this help Mason?”

“There are two ways that it can help him. First, we can broker a deal in which each of you drops the charges and Mason walks out of here tonight. If that doesn’t work, then your complaint will add credence to Mason’s account of the altercation when he goes to court. It may not get him off completely, but it will certainly make a jury more sympathetic,” he explains.

“So you want me to press charges so that I can drop them?”

“Well, yes.”

“That doesn’t seem very honest,” I tell him.

He looks stunned and says, “If your account of what happened is true, there’s nothing dishonest about it. It’s a power play to be certain, but not dishonest.”

“Okay, then. Let’s do it,” I affirm.

My written statement completed, the chief directs two officers to arrest the jerk, who I now know is named Michael Furlow.

“If he’s still on campus, we’ll have him in custody in less than an hour. I would recommend that you stay close. This could all be cleared up very quickly,” the chief tells me.

“Can I possibly see Mason while I’m here?” I ask.

“Unfortunately, no. I held off as long as I could, but we had to take him to booking,” he tells me.

It’s probably for the best. I expect that he’s going to be upset when he finds out I went against his wishes. Better that he doesn’t know until he’s a free man again.

I sit down on the concrete bench outside the police station, thankful that the rain has subsided, and wait for the chief to come back for me. As I wait, I wonder how Mason is faring. I can’t imagine what it’s like to sit in a jail cell, especially when you’ve done nothing more than protect a person that you care about from someone with bad intentions.

The sun sets and the streetlights come on and, finally, the chief steps out the door and waves for me to come inside. My heart races as I step through the door. He pulls me aside and says, “Okay. It took a little bit of convincing, but he’s willing to drop the charges if you will. I just need you to come sign some papers and they’ll both be released.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you going out of your way like this,” I smile.

“Your stepbrother does a lot for this community. It’s the least that I can do.”

That label smacks me hard in the face because that isn’t what he is to me. But he must have told the chief that he was protecting his stepsister, so I simply nod and shake it off.

With two strokes of a pen, Mason is free and clear of all charges, and I wait for him outside. He exits the building, stopping in his tracks when he sees me. My heart drops, certain that I’ve done the wrong thing. He comes closer and says, “I told you not to do this. I can take care of myself.”

I feel the tears forming in my eyes again and I try to find the right words to justify my actions, but he puts his arms around me and pulls me close. “But thank you, little girl. You did well.”

We turn to leave but someone calls out, “Mr. Mitchell,” and we turn around to see the jerk, Michael Furlow, coming toward us with his palms outstretched.

“I just wanted to apologize to you both. I hope there are no hard feelings,” he says.

Mason stares into his eyes for a moment then holds his hand out to the jerk. They shake and Mason tells him, “Fresh start tomorrow. Focus on your grades and winning football games. Leave the girls alone for a while. Clear?”

“Yes, sir. No problem,” he replies.

11

RECONCILIATIONS

MASON

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