by Amber Burns
A shot of fear went through me, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Now it wasn’t a matter of her being knocked up, but that something could be wrong.
“So, what’s wrong?” I watched her for any sign or tick that there was something going on, that I had a reason to be afraid.
“I thought maybe, I could save us a buck,” she shrugged. “I’m going to get on birth control.” I blinked, trying to process what she was saying. “I thought, maybe, we could enjoy each other without something being between us. It…it’ll take a week or so to be sure that it’s working. But maybe we could take a special night and just,” she turned and leaned against me, her lips brushing against my cheek. “Be together?”
I groaned, knowing where she was getting at, “I really need to put a ring on this girl.” I flopped back, letting the stress that had suddenly coiled up in my gut go. “I can’t let her go,” I tugged her down to me. “You thought you were stuck with me before, baby,” I tilted her chin up so I could kiss her. “You’re definitely not going to get rid of me now.”
She kissed me before I could manage, “Maybe I don’t want to be rid of you.”
She broke away from me for a beat, her eyes were dilated, and the little bit of green I could see was so dark. If I ever doubted this girl wanted me before, I knew better now.
16
When Wednesday rolled around I was kept busy; Wilson had fucked up his shit on purpose it felt like, and I was piecing it out like I hadn’t done so damn near a month ago. Either he didn’t give a shit about it, or he was just fucking with me; sometimes I couldn’t tell. Jimmy helped me at some point before Teddy put him on some sort of errand. I couldn’t piece together if he knew what Wilson was having me do. I found the key Wilson had promised in my saddle bag when I took a break from my work for lunch.
I had already taken the extra measure to let Madi know I wouldn’t be staying with her for the night. When she inquired as to why, I hesitated to answer. I didn’t want to tell her the truth. Especially after I made an effort to make her believe that the Brotherhood, the guys I rode with, were all good guys; that we didn’t do anything illegal. I opted to let her know that I had a job that was going to take me longer than I thought to finish.
It wasn’t far from the truth, I told myself as I gave Wilson’s bike a hard look. This fucker usually made sure I spent the majority of my day working on his damn bike.
I managed to piece it back together before Jimmy headed out. When I heard him cry out to someone inside that he had shit to do, I booked it to the sedan that Wilson had parked in the lot across the street. Fucker had me running, and I did not manage to look good running with the limp I had going. When I got in, I made sure to make sure that shit had gas. Fortunately, Wilson’s sense of humor wasn’t that vicious. I waited until I saw Jimmy slide out of the lot on his bike before I cranked up.
I had to be cool with the length that I followed him. There was this awful temptation to go without lights, and I did before he turned onto a well-lit road. I made sure my lights were on before I pulled back behind him. He rode out into the country, seeming without noticing me behind him. I was surprised to see him take his bike down a dirt road. I avoided dirt roads simply because I didn’t want to get shit all over my bike. His always looked clean, so I gathered he either cleaned it after these visits, or he didn’t usually take his bike. I doubt it was that latter. He was kind of like me in the sense that his bike was the only vehicle he needed. It only made a difference when it rained. For him, because he was fortunate enough to serve and get out without injury, it just meant he would get a wet if he had to get out. For me, I was stuck indoors and usually in a cloud of drugs and pain.
I went straight to not draw attention to myself, and I cut the headlights then did a u-turn. I swung around and went up the dirt road. Jimmy already had a good distance on me, but as far as I could tell the dirt road didn’t have any houses running alongside it. I didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that the moon was bright enough for me to see a trailer in a wooded lot. I rolled the car to a stop. It was evident people were home in the trailer, but I didn’t see anyone outside. I opened the door and didn’t bother closing it. I tried to stay low and use the darkness to hide me as much as I could.
Only, I didn’t get very far into the yard. There was a roar of engines coming from behind me. I thought for a second I was fucked, and Jimmy’s friends had caught me. When I heard the sirens, I wished that had been the case. Two police cruisers tore around the car I had used to get here and thrashed the yard as they pulled closer to the trailer. Another set of cruisers pulled up behind my car, and I knew I was trapped. I didn’t even bother, I put my hands on my head and waited for further instruction as I watched the cops swarm the trailer. They ran past me and at first, I thought I’d gone unnoticed, but a sharp voice soon barked for me to get on the ground.
I sigh, “Alright, but I have to warn you I’m a wounded vet and will require assistance getting up.”
“I said get on the ground,” was barked back at me and, with an effort, I refrain from rolling my eyes.
Getting on the ground wasn’t easy. It was late and it had been a long day, so the knee of my left leg decides not to cooperate. I end up flopping forward into the grass and groaning when things got aggravated. I put my hands back on my head and just waited.
I heard the doors to the trailer thrown open followed immediately by yelling and cussing. I looked up to see if Jimmy was forced out, but so far I had only seen the lit doorway. A shot was fired, though I could only hope the kid wasn’t that stupid. There were sounds of a struggle, but soon it ended and I saw Jimmy being walked out in cuffs. As well as Anthony and another guy that I can only assume was Greg. Jimmy’s eyes connected with mine and he bared his teeth at me, “Did you fucking rat on us, Redding? Did you call the fucking cops?”
“Nope,” I holler from the ground. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be laying my ass on the ground getting arrested, too, Dipshit.”
My side was nudged, and I didn’t bother to look to see who did it. I just watch as they struggled to get the other three men into the back of their vehicles. A knee was pressed into my back, and I grunted. The pain suddenly intensified, and I gritted my teeth as the guy on me brought my hands down to be cuffed.
“Cooperating, no need to get rough,” I winced.
“Okay, bud, time to get up,” the officer that cuffed me said without commenting on my complaint. His hands came up under my arms, and with little effort on his part, I was tugged to my feet. On my part, however, the move was excruciating.
“I’m going to need my pills,” I gritted out between clenched teeth.
“That what you were coming up here for, junkie?” He actually chuckled at me. “You’re going to have to wait to get your next fix there, man.”
“Wounded vet,” I said again as I was shoved towards a car. My limp became more pronounced as my left leg got stiffer. “You keep this rough treatment, man, and you’re gonna have me an incoherent mess.”
I got the Miranda act read to me as they forced me into the car, my left knee bent under the force of the hand on my shoulder. I couldn’t help but cry out in pain as the act of bending shot through my nerves. Yea, I was looking at a night of being an incoherent mess of pain. I had one fleeting before the throbbing started to take over.
Did I get fucked over out here?
17
When the cops did a search on me, they found my earlier warnings were true and then managed to fish out my identification. I had started sweating in the cop car, and at first, the guy thought I was overdosing or something. I managed to hike up my jeans leg enough to give him a glimpse of the mangled burnt skin. Normally, I didn’t try to play the sympathy card. But I was fucking hurting, and I needed some relief. If they let me cook in a holding cell, the pain would only escalate, and soon I would be hugging the metal shitter and throwing up all that I’d eaten that day. It’s not a pretty sight when the pain gets too much. I hoped they didn’t let it ge
t to the level where it was too much.
“Make your call to someone that can get your medication,” the officer that was checking me in commanded. “Get your shit here because if you puke up my holding cell, you will be the one cleaning it up.”
I grunted in acknowledgment and picked up the phone that was offered to me. I punched in Teddy’s number, because his was the first that came to mind. I didn’t remember anyone else’s, and he’d picked me up on more than one occasion. It was after midnight, and I honestly didn’t care if I woke him up. The phone rang and rang, fortunately, on the fifth ring, he finally answered.
“What?” it was croaked into my ear.
“I was arrested, I don’t know Wilson’s number. I need my drugs,” I knew I didn’t need to say who it was. Granted, he probably didn’t expect a call from me.
“Why were you arrested?” He sounded confused, and his voice was muffled for a second. I heard movement suggesting he was getting out of bed, “The fuck did you do?”
“Followed Jimmy,” I growled at him. “Bring me my fucking pills and see how long I’ve got to sit in a cell for this shit.”
I didn’t give him the chance to question me longer, I hung up the phone and let my temper stew. I limped to a cell, getting one to myself with a guard to watch me. I figured that they thought I might keel over, and after all the flak that law enforcement has gotten recently, having a vet die in holding is bad press they’d like to avoid. Maybe they’re assumed I was decorated.
The holding cell was just a cement box with bars closing off one end. There was a cement bench with a thin pad on it. I guessed that was as good as I was going to get for a bed. I hobbled to it and sat with my back to the wall, and my left leg stretched out. I didn’t get any relief since I was stuck waiting for Teddy. I tried to focus on breathing, I tried to massage my leg through my jeans, I tried every single pain management technique the cute physical therapist tried to teach me as a means to get through the pain without pills. I lost grasp on time when I did this, it felt like hours had gone by when it really was only a few minutes before a cop came in with my medicine bag.
He and my guard went through it carefully, studying the contents of each bottle to make sure each was prescribed by a doctor. All my medications were VA approved, and I struggled to stand as I watched them. I needed my nerve pill and my anti-inflammatory pronto. I doubted they’d be nice enough to give me a Vallum to get me through the night. I stumbled and nearly fell, which under any other circumstances would have been embarrassing. Now, it would have been inconvenient in the fact that I wouldn’t have been able to get back up on my own. I got to the bars, and I waited anxiously for them to offer me something. I found myself leaning against the bars because the longer I was left standing, the shakier my stance got.
“Which do you need right now?” the officer that had my bag eyed me. I guess it was apparent how bad off I was.
“Nerve pill and anti-inflammatory,” I rubbed at my face, trying to get some clarity. “If you’re cool the Vallum will take the edge off.”
“There are so many pills in here, man,” they complained but took the time to feed me the ones I asked for. “Why the hell are you on so many? You’re only thirty it’s kind of messed up to be on this many.”
I swallowed the pills dry, choking on the nerve pill. I didn’t care. It meant I would get relief soon. I had a paper cup filled with water offered to me, and I downed it in a single gulp.
“Caravan found an IED,” I explained. “Assholes like to bury bombs in roads that we frequented.”
“You got all your limbs though,” the officer holding my bag argued. “I’ve seen some guys come home less an arm and a leg after that.”
“My truck was on the far side of the blast,” I patted my left leg. “Far enough away to offer me some protection, but I still got burnt up when the engine of the truck went. The doctor wanted to take this leg, cut me off below the knee. But it wouldn’t have helped the sciatic nerve pain I would have to live with, so I declined the option to be a pirate,” I pressed my forehead against the cold bar. “How long am I stuck here?”
“For the night at least,” the guard said. “You have to wait until eight tomorrow morning for the judge to get in and set bail.”
“Fuck me,” I sighed and turned to go back what would be my bunk.
“Can I ask with all the good shit you got here, why you would be going to a trailer for more drugs?”
If I was smart, I would’ve said I wasn’t talking without a lawyer. But, I got to where I was, so obviously I’m wasn’t that smart. “Wasn’t there for drugs, had no clue what was going on in the trailer,” I sat down heavily. “I was following my friend there to see what kind of dumb shit he got into.”
“So, you’re telling us you just got dragged into the dumb shit, too?” My guard asked.
“Yep,” I settled in, going back to the drug-free pain management methods that didn’t work. “Would be glad to offer to do a drug test, you’ll see everything I’m on is in the bag.”
“I saw the dash cam footage,” the officer with my bag said to the guard. “Dude just stood there and waited when he saw the cars come flying in. Didn’t try to resist or run. That shit hardly happens with people whether they're innocent or guilty.”
“Aside from the fact that it’s dumb as shit to run,” I offer up. “I can’t run for shit.”
“Man, you can barely walk right now,” he held up the bag. “We’re going to through these and get your next round ready. Try to sleep.”
Easier said than done.
18
Sleep was fleeting, and when the Vallum kicked in, I stopped caring about both the pain and my situation, so I managed a light doze. I got maybe four hours. The problem with pain is it fucks up my grasp of time. The guards eventually got me up and gave me my pills. I declined another Vallum, even though I already had the aches. I wanted to be sober for what was going on.
I waited for my turn in the arraignment line, for a chance to see the judge and to find out what exactly I was being charged with and what my bail would be. I realized I’d probably end up stuck here and the realization made my stomach turn.
I could’ve called my parents, they lived a few hours away and probably would have booked it here to make my bail and see to it that I got a decent defense lawyer. But that would come at a consequence. My mother had been dying for me to come back home, wanting to take care of me like I’m an invalid. I’ve had my freedom since I went to bootcamp… though I use the word free loosely because really I just took it from my parents and sold it to the government. I didn’t really become free until after I was discharged.
But here I was in cuffs with ankle bracelets to match. A guard stood next to me to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid or to keep me upright, I couldn’t tell.
“I’ve never been arrested before,” I said to him. “How long does this shit usually take?”
“Judge is usually quick, they try to process people as quick as they can so those that can afford to make bail, do. Do you have an attorney?” He eyed me curiously, seeing my patched cut and combat boots.
“I spent about nine years in the Army,” I said with a shrug. “Fuck no, I don’t have money.”
He snorted then tried to choke back his amusement.
“Don’t do illegal stuff. Plus, cut the cussing. Judge Fredericks is not a fan of it and will probably add to your bail because of it. He considers it a sign of bad character.”
“Fantastic,” I sighed. “Telling me not to cuss is like tell me to stop breathing.” I got another laugh from him and, had the situation been different, he was probably likable. “You gotta motorcycle?”
“My wife would kill me,” he paused and eyed my cut. “Your club push drugs?”
I knew what he was fishing for and I shrugged my shoulders, “The club I’m in caters to vets and retirees. People that ride in the Veteran’s parades and shit like that. We don’t deal with drugs, you should see the bag I gotta carry around full of prescri
bed drugs; almost as big as a woman’s purse.” I shrugged, the chains that connected my wrists to my ankles shaking, “The Boneyard Brotherhood is kind of like a support group with motorcycles.”
He nodded, and we shifted as the line moved along. He offered me decent banter that seemed to make the wait move along at a quicker pace. I was good as long as I didn’t have to dwell on what happened after this. Because nothing good ever came from being arrested, even if you were innocent.
When I stood in front of the judge I listened to the charges with growing dread, I knew Jimmy and his friends were either in front of me or behind me in the line for this. I hadn’t bothered to look for any of them, I was more worried about myself than them.
“Felony manufacturing charges with the intent to sell,” one lawyer said simply, she was a blonde woman with hair that touched her shoulders and had a dark pantsuit on.
