Two days went by with no problems. The delivery came in on Monday right as we got home from the office.
"I didn't order anything..." Clairmont raised an eyebrow.
"I did." I hoisted the punching bag over my shoulder, and brought it down to the gym.
"Oh..." He said in realization.
"Yeah, I was pretty furious." I unpackaged it and hung it up. "So, it's been replaced."
"Well, thank you for replacing it."
"My fault, my responsibility." I said coolly, disposing of the trash, and going back upstairs. "Are you going for your run?"
"Not tonight, the trial is tomorrow." It had slipped my mind. "You forgot, didn't you?" I shrugged.
"I have no doubt I'm not going to lose." I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, and took off my badge and put it on the counter. "If I am not needed for anything else-"
"No, you're dismissed." He stated in a tone that sounded defeated, but held worry at the same time.
"Boundaries, Scorpio. Don't worry about me. I'm the one who does the worrying, because it's my job." I clicked my tongue, and went off to my room.
*
All of us had to be at the trial, Johnson included.
"On the matter of Jameson V. Romera, please rise." We all stood. I was called first to tell my side of the story before the second person involved came in with the family of the man who died. "Please sit. Romera, please come forward." I went to the bailiff and placed my hand on the book of law. They had since phased out the Bible, for which I was grateful. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, on the honor of your name and all those you carry?"
"I do." I stated with my head held high.
"Please take the stand." I sat in the prosecution chair.
"Ms. Romera, can you please tell me the purpose of your job?" The judge asked me first.
"I am a licensed armed officer and bodyguard with Eagle Protection services. High profile clients hire bodyguards when they feel like they might be threatened and we are here for the purpose of deterrence and force, if necessary." I didn't need any lawyer for this.
"And can you please state why you were the one to fire the shot, and not any of the three officers on the property?" I took a single moment.
"None of the officers had answered their radios. When they didn't answer, my patrolling Officer, Adam Harris, was in the house. We armed up, following our office protocol, and went out. My client and his primary bodyguard at the time, were to stay hidden, and did. When we found the suspects holding two of the officers hostage, the now deceased pulled a gun when I told him to show me his hands. I pulled the trigger because my gun was aimed on the suspect."
"MY BABY BOY DIDN'T DESERVE TO BE SHOT, YOU RACIST MONSTER!" Someone, probably the mother, cried out at me.
"ORDER." The judge banged her mallet. "Mrs. Jameson, if you do not keep quiet, I will hold you in contempt." The judge glared her down.
"We also have video surveillance all over the property, which my client, Mr. Clairmont, has happily provided us." He handed the bailiff a USB full of the video footage.
"Thank you, Ms. Romera. The jury will review this. You may return to your seat." I ignored the death glares from the family. "The defendant is called to the stand." The now prisoner came up to the stands.
"How does the defense plea?" The judge asked.
"Guilty, your Honor." They took a plea deal.
"Why change your mind at the last minute?" My lawyer asked him.
"Because, it was stupid, wrong, and I knew I shouldn't have done it! Jamal was my brother's friend, but he... he started up this whole gang scene! I didn't want into it, but I didn't want to be targeted." I honestly did feel bad for the kid. Gangs sucked people in or killed them...
"Mr. Bailey, can you tell me why you and the deceased targeted Mr. Clairmont's property?" The prosecutor asked.
"Jamal wanted a high value price, and I told him numerous times it was a bad idea-"
"And what did the deceased tell you?"
"If I didn't do it, I could say goodbye to my family." I cringed at that. It was the same methods the terrorists used on us... except our brothers went home in bodybags.
"Did you pull a gun on any of the guards here today?" The judge stepped in.
"No, your Honor... I've never even shot a gun before in my life!"
"But you had one upon your arrest." The prosecutor stated.
"Jamal gave it to me, and I quote him, 'If security sees us, waste them.'"
If they try anything, slit their throats.
"Thank you, Mr. Bailey." Harris was called up for his words, and while the jury went to convene, we were called to break. I bolted from the room and ran straight to the bathroom, locking myself in there, words replaying in my head.
American scum don't deserve to live.
All you come for is blood and oil.
How many have to die because you don't get what you want?
We'll have our fun with the girl, make the men watch.
Kill them all and spare no mercy.
"Romera!" I snapped out of my episode, leaning against the sink. I unlocked the door, finding Clairmont standing there. "Come on, recess is over." I nodded, washing my hands and face quickly, and went back in.
"Since the Plantiff has already taken a Plea of Guilty to spite his guilty conscience, on the charges for attempted murder, how does the jury find?"
"Not guilty."
"Attempted murder of a Public Servant?"
"Not guilty."
"And how does the jury find for Criminal Trespass with Attempted Burglary?"
"Guilty, your Honor." The judge looked to Bailey.
"Ten years, five with good behavior then two of parole." She declared. "On the matter of Jameson V Romera, how does the Jury find the defendant in Self-Defense of herself and a Third Party?"
"Justified, your honor."
"Then, Ms. Romera, you are free to return to duty on full Armed access." I breathed a sigh of relief, but Momma didn't like the ruling. She began to scream and shout at me, and it was my duty to get all of us out while the officers came in and restrained her before she could charge me. Once outside, there was press, and we all told them to fuck off.
Once back at the house, Dallas Police brought my Saint back, and I almost cried when it was back in my hands.
"Take care, Corporal." I thanked the officer and went and tucked it away. I could rest just a bit easier now that it was back in my hands.
After dinner, and a run, I was getting ready for bed when he popped in.
"We need to talk about earlier." I groaned quietly.
"Boundaries."
"When you lock yourself in the bathroom for five minutes past recess, there's something else going on in your head. Spill it." I licked the inside of my cheek.
"You want to know what was going on in my head?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "That Family wanted me dead as much as the god damn Jihadis did. Their words were replaying in my head... How they wanted to use me in front of my fiancé and my brothers, beat them to death, and then leave me to die in agony. Show no mercy." His eyes darkened at my words. "That's what was going through my head, Scorpio." I spat his call sign out. "I was reliving that god damn moment over all through that trial... Just like I do, every trial. A family that wants me dead because I attempted to take a life, or I took a life."
"You don't think they look at me the same way overseas?" He stated calmly. "Anytime I'm in Saudi Arabia or the Emirates, I'm seen as an enemy by the people, but to the government, I'm seen as dollar signs. My father was in Desert Storm, my grandfather in Vietnam, Great Grandfather in World War One AND Two... My family has a history of being hated by the governments of the Middle East, Europe, and Asia... I hired bodyguards so I don't have that conscience on my mind, but it seems that I was wrong about asking for Military to do the job." What a slap in the face!
"I do this job because I LOVE my job." I stopped him from further insulting me. "It's not my fault that the government fucked my brain up!" I choked out a sobbing laugh. "You think I asked for this?" I smiled through my pain, pointing at my head. "You think I asked to be deployed to the fucking Desert, captured by ISIS, tortured for weeks, me and my fiancé making it out of there with our brother's tags, and then him dying in Israel? Me losing our son? The mental breakdowns and suicide attempts? The late nights screaming myself awake because the pain is still so fresh in my mind?" I wiped my tears away. "You of all people should know!"
"Oh, Firehawk.... I know all too well." He said quietly... too quietly. "But the difference is, our bodies makeup, genetically, is completely different... my meds work to keep me stable, but yours... Yours have all failed you. You're not stable, and being a ginger, you have a much stronger drug resistance, which is unfortunate." That, I did know... "But just because I can keep my PTSD in check, doesn't mean I don't live with my demons every day or night... because I do." He handed me a washcloth to dry my face. "Now that that's out of the air, this-" he waved his hand, "anything combat related, just talk to me about. Remember, I was there, but I was there at the very end." It was hard to keep that in mind. I just breathed. "Take your meds. I don't have any meetings tomorrow, just menial work in the office, so it may be a short day. I may even let you go bust the guns out at the range." I choked a laugh out.
"Fair enough." I said quietly. "But Scorpio, I swear to god, I am putting in my resignation the next time you burst in my room again like this. No more heart to hearts." He held his hands up.
"Warning received."
It's getting good, I promise. Just a little slow right now.
6am-5pm Monday-Thursday Bowling 6:30pm-9pm Tuesday, 1pm-9pm Saturday. I'll work on another update when I can.
Also, if a book has mature content in it, trigger warnings, and you know it's going to upset you, WHY DO YOU READ IT AND COMPLAIN ANYWAYS? CLOSE THE BOOK AND MOVE ON. Seriously. It's like, if your mom tells you NOT to do something and you do it anyways, and you get hurt, who's to blame? YOU ARE. And when you go and cry to Mom, what does she tell you? "Told you so!" 😒