Page 20 of Ugly Duckling (Content Advisory #6)

Fourteen

Don’t ever let a recipe tell you how many chocolate chips to put in. You measure that shit with your heart.

—Gunner to Lottie

GUNNER

“Hello?”

“Boss,” Yates said carefully. “I’m not going to be able to make it into work today. I had something come up.”

“No problem,” I said as I headed for the courthouse. “Just call Ramsey and see if he can pull someone off our other job and get over to yours. I can’t be there today. I have something.”

“No problem,” he murmured.

I hung up and slipped the phone into my pocket, wondering how many other calls I would be getting today while I dealt with this bullshit.

Just as I reached the door to head inside, a loud bark of “wait” came from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to see Audric hustling up the steps that would lead him to me.

“What are you doing here, buddy?”

“Came to offer my character witness if I need to.” Audric shook his head. “Creole’s on her way as well, but she’s driving in from the airport. She’ll be a bit behind me.”

“Thanks, man,” I said. “Sutton’s on her way as well, but she had a few clients this morning that she had to do first thing. She’s coming after she’s done with that.”

“Sweet,” Audric grumbled. “I can’t believe they’re still fucking trying this. I hate them.”

A sniff from behind us had us both looking back to see the Combs heading our way.

The sniff had come from Paula, who’d likely heard Audric’s words.

Not that either one of us cared what they heard.

They obviously needed to hear that shit.

Hell, maybe they’d never heard the word no enough as a child, either. That was why they were both so entitled.

Audric greeted them with a leering grin and said, “Well, hello. Funny we’re meeting here of all places. Again.”

Neither one of them said a word as they walked toward our courtroom for the day.

Audric opened his mouth to reply when Malone stepped up to our side and said, “Audric, need I remind you that your passive-aggressive comments aren’t helping?”

Audric snapped his mouth shut. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Sure you aren’t,” she snorted and turned to me. “You ready for this? Where’s your fiancée?”

“Fiancée?” Audric whispered under his breath.

“Long story short, Sutton’s my fiancée for the time being,” I repeated lowly. “Text your wife and tell her not to act surprised.”

Audric shook his head, his eyes glittering with mirth. “She’ll be so excited to have a new friend. She’s always referring to herself as the oddball out with the club wives.”

“Searcy, Aella, Silver, and Baker aren’t welcoming?”

“They’re welcoming. But the rest of them have been here for a lot longer than she has, and she sometimes just feels a little bit alone,” he admitted. “I’m glad that you’ll have someone to help her.”

“Sutton’s really great,” I said.

“That’s so nice of you, future hubby.”

I looked to my back to see her coming out of the bathroom.

“When did you get here?” I asked.

“About ten minutes ago,” she answered. “My second client for the day had to be rescheduled because she wasn’t finished being embalmed yet.”

“Um, what?” Audric asked at the same time Malone replied, “What, exactly, do you do again?”

Sutton beamed. “I’m a nail technician. But I only see clients who are deceased. I work part-time, however, because I’m currently in training for the next Olympics.”

“You run?” Malone asked. “Which distance?”

“The 1500,” she answered. “Well, for the Olympics. I just started running marathons and find that I really like that distance as well.”

“I’ve always wanted to become a runner.”

“You should do it,” Sutton said to Malone. “It’s awesome.”

Malone nodded once. “Maybe you can share your number with me. I’d love some tips.”

Her phone beeped before she could say anything more, and Malone cursed. “Come on. Let’s go. This judge is a douche if you’re late.”

We all filed into the courtroom, but Audric waited to go in with me before saying, “What’s with that look you keep giving her? You look like you’re really into her.”

I was.

Which was honestly quite scary.

“She’s a good friend,” I whispered back.

“Sure,” he murmured. “There’s my girl.”

Creole came rushing in with her flight attendant uniform on and caught up to Audric.

The two of them sat in the back.

I sat in the front on the left side with Malone, opposite of the Combs, and Sutton pulled up a chair directly behind me.

The judge came into the chambers just a few short moments later.

“All rise!”

I stood up, smoothing the tie that Malone had urged me to wear despite wanting nothing to do with it.

The judge came stomping into the chamber, looking quite put out that he was having to be here in the first place.

Probably interrupted his round of golf for the day…

“Please be seated.” He threw himself into his chair, immediately scanning over the documents in front of him. “Lewis, what are we doing here today?”

Lewis, who was apparently the opposing council, stood up and tugged his shirt sleeve down into place before saying, “My clients have filed an emergency injunction to have Lottie Penn’s custody transferred to them because of an unsafe environment, and neglect.”

The judge blinked, then turned his eyes toward Malone on my right. “And your stance, Malone?”

Malone stood up, uncaring that the judge had used her first name instead of her last. “We’re here to refute that claim to the nth degree. It’s a gross, negligent, bald-faced lie that we vehemently disagree with.”

“What’s your proof that she’s getting neglected and living in an unsafe environment, Lewis?”

Lewis cleared his throat and said, “My clients have been having a private investigator following Mr. Penn around, and they believe they have enough evidence to prove that he’s abusing her.”

“Let’s see it then,” the judge snapped.

A woman came from the right side of the bench and walked toward “Lewis,” who was really Lewis Weston, the newest lawyer that the Combs had hired to represent them.

He was young, inexperienced, and unhip to the bullshit that the Combs were trying to peddle.

He had yet to learn that the Combs lied to get what they wanted, and when they didn’t get what they wanted, they moved on to someone that could hopefully get them what they wanted.

I’d been here, in this exact spot, so many times over the last few months that my ass was well acquainted with each divot in the seats that we were forced to sit in.

The woman brought the papers to the judge, and the judge started to sort through them.

“What, exactly, am I looking at?” the judge asked.

“Your honor, I can explain.” Paula stood up.

The judge’s bushy eyebrows lifted and he said, “Please. Explain.”

“The photo labeled number one is a time-stamped photo showing that my granddaughter was picked up well past closing time.” Paula sneered at me. “She was also dropped off at six-thirty that morning. She was there for a whole thirteen hours.”

The judge looked from her to me. “Not that I feel like this is something that is bad, but please explain this to me.”

“I drop Lottie off twice a week at daycare. It’s a twenty-four-hour daycare, which I have to pay extra for, because sometimes I’m required to be an hour and a half away before the school day starts.”

“What do you do for the school?” he interjected.

I was surprised he didn’t know.

Most did.

But…

“I’m the owner of Angel Security. A non-profit business that travels around the country ensuring that schools are protected during school shootings,” I replied quietly.

The judge sat back in his chair. “What got you into that? I thought you were a baseball player.”

My stomach sank. “I was. I quit four years into my career to start this business up. My son, Jett, was killed along with multiple other children during a school shooting at their elementary school. I now make it my life’s work to make sure that no other parent has to ever experience that.”

He nodded. “And that night that you were late picking your daughter up. What happened?”

“There was an accident on the interstate. I took an alternative route, but there was an accident on that road, too. It took me two hours of back roads and waiting for me to get to the daycare. I did call and let them know that I would be late, though. I actually called every thirty minutes to update them. I wasn’t the only one that was unable to pick their kid up on time. ”

“It’s a twenty-four-hour daycare, is it not?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Then you’re not picking her up late. You were there when they were open.” He nodded his head. “It was just later than usual for your daughter to be there, correct?”

“Correct,” I confirmed.

He looked over at Paula, who was standing there silently fuming.

“What else is here that I’m looking at?”

She cleared her throat, then started to go into the fact that I “passed Lottie around” all the time.

“And these men and women,” Paula sneered in my direction. “They’re part of a motorcycle club. One that’s suspected to be a criminal club.”

A criminal club.

Jesus.

“I see,” he said. “Ma’am, not to be rude, but all of these things aren’t indicative of ‘bad’ or ‘criminal.’ Bikers are a good bunch, mostly.

They’ll give you the shirt off their back.

My daddy was a biker. He was the nicest man I knew.

Watched out for his neighborhood and his community.

Hell, he died while trying to save a turtle.

Pulled over and stopped his bike in the middle of the road. The turtle lived, but he died.”

Paula didn’t know what to say to that.

“Emergency injunction denied. The child will remain with his father.” He paused with the gavel in his hand. “Though, don’t go getting up yet. We have a few more things to discuss.”

The Combs’ lawyer started to look nervous.

“W-what’s that, Your Honor?” Lewis stuttered.

Malone sat back with a smile. “You’re going to like this.”

I waited to see what the judge had to say and was pleasantly surprised for the first time in a while.

“You now have a restraining order against you,” he said.

“I’m issuing it right now. You are to stay well away from Mr. Penn, Lottie Penn, and Mr. Penn’s fiancée, Sutton Sway.

Some information was shared with me upon getting into my offices today, and I have decided that you won’t ever be getting close to them again if I can help it. ”

He stood up with the gavel in his hand. “Dismissed.”

Paula stood up in a huff, but before she could storm away, he said, “Oh, and Mrs. Combs?”

Paula turned woodenly to stare at the judge. “The next time you cry wolf with any false allegations against Mr. Penn, you will be seeing the inside of a jail cell.”

She took a step toward the door, but the judge wasn’t done. “One more thing.”

Paula didn’t turn to look back.

“You’re lucky she didn’t press charges.”

My lips were firmly tilted into a permanent smile when Paula stomped out of the courtroom.

We waited for everyone to disperse from the room before anyone said anything.

“What the hell was that?” Audric asked, eyes lit with laughter.

“That was them messing with the wrong judge.” Malone packed her briefcase up. “I was hoping that he would be willing to hear from me beforehand, and he did. He’s a good guy. Real southern boy. And he is a good friend of my dad’s. He was more than willing to hear me out before court this morning.”

“Good.” Audric nodded. “How much good do you think those restraining orders will do?”

“Not.” Malone stepped around her chair to stare at me. “You document each time you see them. And make sure that you’re careful. They’ll try to trip you up, and they’ll just pick up their invasion of privacy. Don’t be surprised if you’re watched all the time now.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

But then again, mostly I followed the law.

But on those rare occasions that I didn’t…

“I didn’t put makeup on for no reason,” Sutton grumbled, indicating the swelling and bruising on her cheek. “I was really hoping that he’d get a good look at my eye.”

“Oh, he did,” Malone said. “I took a photo and shared it with him this morning. That’s why you got the restraining order, too.”

Sutton bumped my shoulder. “Score!”

“Y’all want to get breakfast?” Creole asked, shifting from foot to foot.

I looked at Sutton, about to ask her if she wanted to go, but she answered before I could.

“We’ll go, but Gunner and I are marathon training. So that means we have to eat good.”

“The hell we do,” I grumbled. “You can eat however you want to eat. I’m not stopping you. And I’ll train with you. But I’m not giving up good food.”

“You’re training?” Creole asked. “I thought you’d run another marathon when you’re dead?”

“I talked him into it,” Sutton admitted. “I think he’s doing it to be nice, but also because he secretly likes it.”

“Whatever.”

Sutton threw her arm around my bicep and pulled me in close. “You know you’d do anything for me.”

She had no clue how right she was.

And I was beginning to realize that that might be a problem.