I couldn’t think of her name without feeling the impact like a train slamming into my chest. Nothing had ever felt like this. Her visit had fucked me up. The hurt in her eyes, the tremble of her lips. She’d cried because of me. I wasn’t going to string her along while I fucked off in prison for the next five years. I couldn’t do that to her, not when I’d fallen in love with her.
But it was Cruz that had me riding the edge of reason. Why him? Why the fuck could I not get him outof my head? If I thought of him, I thought of her. Of them together. Of me with them. Of the tattoos low on his groin that wrapped around to his back.
Christ, the way he smiled and the filthy glint in his eyes when he spoke to me. Just remembering had my dick thickening.
“All rise.”
The euphemism was eerily timed considering the erection threatening to go full mast.
The judge entered the courtroom. Nausea churned in my gut. I’d look less guilty if I wasn’t wearing a suit two sizes too big on the jacket and pants two inches too short. I glanced down at my feet. The shoes fit.
I turned my attention back to the judge.
“Ryatt Donovan. We’re here for a motion to revoke probation. Do you admit or deny the allegation?”
I glanced at my attorney, and he gave me a slight nod. We’d discussed exactly what I’d say and do during the proceedings. “Deny.”
We took our seats and the judge called Ted to testify. Everything he said in his report was true, but when it was Willy’s turn to present my defense, he brought out my three months of nearly daily check in, UA’s, and monthly reports. He submitted my work records, my regular payments to the court, and he’d even gone to Ansel, the director of the community center’s NA program for a character reference letter.
“There was a reasonable explanation for the isolated infraction that in no way violated terms of probation. There was no harm to the public and no infractions that would initiate new charges.”
The attorneys argued over points, including the frequency of my check-ins which seemed excessive to Willy. Closing comments were made, and then thejudge sat behind the bench, made notes, and flipped through pages of evidence.
I was trembling like a ten-point earthquake, under a volcano ready to erupt. My skin flushed hot. Time spent sitting in my cell had crawled by. This was worse. My heart raced to the point I could feel my pulse from my brain to the soles of my feet.
The judge wrote a few more notes, then gathered his papers, and told me to stand.
My chair scraped the tiled floor as I pushed back. My attorney stood next to me.
“Probation will be reinstated with no change to the current terms.” His gaze connected with Ted’s. “Missed check-ins with mitigated circumstances shouldn’t undo months of positive rehabilitation. And Mr. Donovan can’t be held accountable to the actions of others.” He set his pen down and stared hard at me. “I’m giving you the opportunity to continue to make good choices.”
Uncontrollable surges of energy rushed through my body. My throat thickened with emotion. I glanced from the bench to the attorney. I needed confirmation that I hadn’t misheard the words from the judge.
“I intend to file a motion to reassign Mr. Donovan. Mr. Vernal has exhibited unfair bias to my client. I think you’ll find Ted is agreeable to the transfer. I’ve taken the liberty of contacting Davis Monson. He’s agreed to take Ryatt.”
Ted stood. “Paperwork was sent over this afternoon in the event Mr. Donovan’s probation remained active.”
“No objection from the court.” He spoke while looking up at the clock. “Mr. Donovan, we’ll try to get you out of here today.”
Willy rested his hand on my shoulder as the proceedings wrapped up.
“They’ll take you back to jail while the paperwork is processed.” Willy stuffed his papers into his briefcase. “It’s going to be a few hours.” He smiled. “Don’t get in any trouble between now and then.”
I offered my hand, and he shook it. “Thank you.”
“This one was easy. Anyone you want me to notify?”
I shook my head.
“Your call, kid.”
A guard escorted me to a bathroom down the hall from the courthouse. I changed back into my jail-issued scrubs. Once I was back in my cell, I kept replaying the judge’s words in my head.
Good choices? I wanted to choose McKelle and Cruz. I wanted what Cruz had with McKelle. I wanted to know she was mine. Choosing McKelle meant choosing Cruz. Loving her meant admitting…fuck…loving her meant loving him and letting them love me.
I spent the afternoon in my cell. I couldn’t eat during chowtime, but I sat at the table in my section with my cellies and let them take what they wanted from my tray. Once I was back in my cell, fear started to claw at the back of my mind.
Today was about over. It had become tonight at least an hour ago. My nerves sizzled like live wires. Both fear and anticipation fought for dominance in my mind.
