Free 8 Mile & Rion by K.S. Adkins Page A

didn’t stand me up was the only comforting thought I had. When tears fill my eyes I knew that I missed his presence terribly. Then when the tears dried, determination took over. I knew I’d be getting him out tomorrow morning followed by a long ass talk.
    But before any of that happens, I had to pull out a suit I never thought I’d wear again. I hate suits by the way; they make my ass look flat.
     

‘America is the land of the second chance - and when the gates of the prison open, the path ahead should lead to a better life.’
    ~George W. Bush
    I’ve been in some questionable situations in my life, but this one trumps any tour, op or shit Jill ever pulled. Sitting here in this cell, none of those things even register. No doubt Rion thinks I was a no-show and because of it thinks I don’t want her. That’s what got me feeling like a caged lion. When I was being hauled off in cuffs Rio told me he’d make a call. To who, I don’t know. I didn’t exactly have time to ask.
    I wasn’t registered as a driver in Michigan nor the owner of her car. I’m being held for solicitation and then assault of a god damn hooker. I didn’t use my phone call because I was counting on Rio and couldn’t afford an attorney anyway. I’m utterly ashamed of myself and I haven’t even done anything wrong.
    I’m ashamed because, I let Rion down. I didn’t have to put my hands on the woman but swear to god I just moved her away. Then with the theatrics of a seasoned actress, she hit the ground. Now I’m being escorted to my hearing where they’ll probably take one look at me and throw me to the fucking wolves. Roughing up a hooker, give me a fucking break. When they walk me into the court room the judge looks at me like I was not only guilty but Satan himself.
    Not saying a word I stand before the judge swearing to tell the whole truth and a bunch of other shit. Meanwhile that whore is over there moaning like I hit her with a ball bat eighteen times. Christ, I’ve had better days.
    “Your honor,” I hear and my eyes squeeze closed in total shame. Fuck, she’s here. I can’t stand the thought of her seeing me low like this.
    “Ms. Reynolds,” he says pleasantly shocked to see her. That would make two of us. At least now I know who Rio called.
    When she comes to my side she speaks into my ear, “Not a word.” Nodding I keep my head down but manage to watch her approach the bench. I also hear “Oh shit,” when the whore sees her too.
    Two or three minutes go by and she and the judge talk like they’ve known each other for years. When he nods at her she turns back toward me but then addresses the whore. “Sugar,” she says with menace, “where’s your attorney?”
    “Don’t got one,” she says staring at her feet.
    “Where’s Bones? Let me guess, hanging you out to dry again?”
    “You know how it is;” she whispers, linking her hands together. “Bones does what he wants.”
    The judge wastes no time handing down his sentencing. “Dismissed,” was all he said followed by, “you’re free to go, Mr. Hart.”
    “Dis---?” Sugar tries to say but then Rion is there in her face.
    “Don’t fuck with me, Sugar. You want stay a little longer? I can make the dream a reality.”
    “No,” she says, looking away.
    “One of these days you’re going to really piss me off. This is the last time I take it easy on you. Don’t cross me or mine again.”
    “I didn’t know he was yours, Junior.”
    Leaning forward and pulling Sugar toward her by her slutty shirt she growls, “Now you do.”
    My heart sped up at that, my hands started to sweat too. She was sticking up for me, claiming me. Even if it was to a hooker, it was the point. Then, taking my hand she leads me from the courtroom back to the lobby so I can go retrieve my meager belongings. I don’t speak and neither does she. I don’t dare say shit because she looks seriously pissed and keeps adjusting her suit. Once that’s done I meet her back in the lobby