*Alex*
Sadly...I had to leave Fallon in the middle of the night. I got a call from Marco, telling me that I needed to come to the club, immediately. Apparently...after the club closed, around 2:00 am, there was a fight that involved a few of our security guards and the police were there waiting to talk to me. It's never a good sign when the cops want to talk to you. Either I'm going to get sued or someone is going to jail.
Before I left, I quickly wrote Fallon a note explaining why I left and that I was sorry. I then placed it on her nightstand under her cell phone, knowing that she would see it there.
When I finally showed up at the club...sure enough five cops were standing outside leaning against the wall talking amongst themselves. I got out of the car and was immediately greeted by, Marco. I frown. His casual demeanor was completely shattered and was replaced with a mixture of anger and...fear!? I'm not sure but I know I'm about to find out.
"Boy am I glad to see you," he says running his fingers through his hair. It looks like he's done that several times already. "It's been crazy."
"What's going on?" I ask coolly. I have to be the calm one here.
"I'm not so sure," he sighs. "The cops won't tell me much. They want to talk to you."
"Which security guards are involved?" That's what I would like to know.
Marco shrugs, "I'm not exactly sure. I heard rumors that it was Chuck and Sam, but then I heard it was someone else entirely...I-I don't know."
It isn't often that my security is involved in fights. They break up a lot yes...but it's rare when the fight involves them.
I walk up to the closest officer and introduce myself. He's tall, muscular, and has dark brown eyes. You could tell his dark hair was cut recently into a crewcut— making him look a lot older than he is. He smiles and shakes my hand. His rough callus hand wrapped around mine, almost making it disappear.
"I'm Officer, Mark Camble," he says. "I'm sorry we had to pull you out of bed...but as you know, this couldn't wait."
"Not a problem," I tell him. "Now what seems to be the actual problem?"
He sighs, "Well it seems that your security roughed up a few of your...customers and now they want to file charges against them."
This doesn't surprise me at all. But I just don't see my security roughing up just anyone for no apparent reason. "I don't mean any disrespect and I know that you are just doing your job, but you're just going to file charges based on what...exactly?"
He seems to be annoyed with my insinuation and points towards a group of people standing off to the side. "Their testimony," he says. "They all gave a statement stating that your security singled them out."
"So you're just going to take their word for it without any evidence?"
"Their testimony is evidence," he exclaims. He then looks over at the group of very drunk individuals and sighs. "Unless you can prove otherwise, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take them downtown."
I nod. That will all depend on where the fight took place. I have cameras everywhere, but there are some blind spots. "Can I speak to them," I ask and he nods.
He leads me over to one of the patrol cars and opens the door. Sure enough, Sam and Chuck sit quietly with their heads down and their hands handcuffed behind their backs. When they both finally look up at me, you can see relief wash over their faces. They both look exhausted... And let's not forget that they both have visible cuts and bruises on their faces.
"Can you guys tell me what happened?" I ask.
They give me a quick rundown of the incident, making sure not to leave anything important out. They told me that they were trying to separate a fight that occurred outside the club between countless individuals and before they knew it, they were the ones being attacked. They tried to fight them off but were quickly overpowered.
"And that's when more security stepped in," Chuck says.
"Where exactly did this happen?" I asked. I just had several brand-new high-tech cameras installed last month. Some assholes decided that it would be fun to rob the cars in the parking lot while the owners were inside.
Chuck gives me a knowing look and smiles. "Right by the door," he tells me.
I smirk and face the officer, "If where they are telling me the fight occurred is accurate, I have two cameras right above the door. They are disguised as lights."
"If you could show me the video— showing their innocence, I would be more than happy to let them go," he says. "However, if the video proves otherwise. It could be used against them in a court of law."
Chuck and Sam are two of my top security guards— head of security to be exact and have been working here for a little over eight years now. I have never had any complaints about them before. So I am willing to bet my money on them.
"I understand, officer."
I pull open the door to the club and head straight for my office. It's located towards the back of the club and is always guarded by at least two security guards during club hours. I can't have some random drunk person going into my office when I'm not around. There is just too much personal information in here.
When I unlocked the door, I immediately headed to my desk and sat down behind my computer. I quickly typed in my password and clicked on the tab marked 'security system'. It didn't take me long to find what I was looking for.
After watching the video I turned to the officer, "As you can see...my boys were telling the truth." They may have exaggerated a little on how many men there were...regardless, they are innocent.
He writes a few notes in his notepad and slips it in the front pocket of his shirt. "May I have a copy of this for our records?" He asks.
"Of course," I tell him. I grab a blank disk from my drawer and slide it into the computer. "It should only take a few minutes."
When the information was finished downloading, I handed the office or the disk. "Are they free to go now?" I ask, not forgetting what he said outside.
"They are free to go," he tells me. "But they aren't out of the clear. They will both be receiving a fine for disorderly conduct." Is he serious? How is that fair? "I know it was self-defense, but they fought back when they could have avoided it."
There is no point in arguing. If a fine is all that they will be getting...then that is fine with me. The officer shakes my hand and leaves.
With a sigh, I sit back in my seat and lean my head back. Even though Chuck and Sam were innocent. They handled the situation poorly. Instead of calling for backup like they are supposed to do, they carelessly put themselves in harm's way and got themselves in a situation that almost landed them in jail. I guess I'm going to have to sit them down and have a talk with them.
A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. Marco, Sam, and Chuck are standing in the doorway of my office. I gesture for them to come in and they all take a seat in the chairs in front of me.
"How much was the fine?" I ask.
"$450," Chuck responds. You can hear the distaste in his voice.
I whistle, "That's a hefty fine there..."
No one says anything.
"You both know what you did wrong right?" The guilty look on their faces tells me they do. "I can have you guys getting involved in fights that could have landed you in the hospital or worse."
When people are drunk they are no longer in their right state of mind and are capable of anything. That group of individuals could have had deadly intentions and they wouldn't have even known it until it was too late.
Some people think that working as a security guard is fun and easy when it's not. You not only have to have physical strength for the job...but mental strength as well, to handle the drunks. I know they both have it. If they didn't, they wouldn't be working here.
"If you want to fire me, I will understand," Sam says.
"What?"
He clears his throat," I said if you..."
"I heard what you said," I cut him off. "Why would I fire you? Yes, you both handled it poorly and could have ended up dead." I give them a pointed look. "But the two of you are my head of security for a reason."
Being security for a club is technically their part-time job. They both have a job, that they go to during the day and come here at night. They do it because they enjoy it, not because they have to— So unless they did something horribly wrong, I would not fire them.
"With that being said...I hope the two of you have learned your lesson." They both nod. "Good. Now can I please see your fines?" They give me a confused look but hand them over anyway. "I'll pay these this time...but next time, you're on your own."
"You don't have to do that," Chuck says.
He's right I don't. I shrug and place the papers in my drawer. "I know...now get out of here and get some rest. You two look like shit," I joke.
They both chuckle and let themselves out, leaving Marco and me alone.
"That was extremely nice of you," Marco says. "Can you pay my next fine too?"
I smile and shake my head, "If you get a fine then you probably deserved it."
He looks thoughtful for a moment, "Yeah, you're probably right."
"Wait...did you just agree with me?" I chuckle. Normally he likes to argue. Even if he's in the wrong.
He shrugs, "There's always a first time for everything."
I yawn and push my chair in, "I'm going home. I'm so tired that I think I could sleep for the next two days."
Marco stands and gives me a devilish grin. "And what have you been doing that would make you so tired?"
I walk up to him and pat him on the back. "That my friend is none of your business." He isn't stupid. He knows why.
After locking up, we say our goodbyes and head to our cars. I really wish I wasn't called away from Fallon. She was sleeping so peacefully with her small frame snuggled against my larger one. I guess there's always next time.