Grand Slam (The Boys of Summer 3)

“Hi, I’m here to meet with Officer Frey,” Saylor tells the desk clerk.

“Have a seat. He’s with someone right now.”

“I believe he’s with my lawyer,” she says. The clerk nods and instructs her to go to room 2. I follow, because I’ll be damned if I’m letting her do this alone. I know Irvin is here to help, but he’s not exactly keen on us getting married, especially without a prenuptial agreement. I explained that, with everything she’s going to lose by being with me, the least I could do is make sure she’s taken care of for the rest of her life.

Irvin’s eyes catch mine as we walk into an interrogation room. Officer Frey stands and shakes my hand, ignoring Saylor.

“This is my…” Saylor sighs as she gets lost on what to call me.

“Fiancé,” I tell him.

“Nice to meet you. Please have a seat.” The legs of his chair scrape against the linoleum, causing my spine to go rigid. Being in this box brings back memories of when I was arrested. The interrogation was brutal, and it didn’t matter how many times I said I didn’t do anything to that woman, they came back with the same question, only asked differently, all meant to screw you up and get you to admit you’ve done something wrong.

“Ms. Blackwell, it seems you’re in a bit of a mess.”

Saylor nods as her hands twist together.

“You’re two years removed from the accident and have already violated your probation. However, I have to say you’re doing better than some of my other probationers.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” she answers meekly. I want to butt in and explain everything for her, but it’s not my place. “I didn’t drink,” she says. “And I haven’t since the day of the accident. You can check my place if you want.”

“Why’d you go into the bar in the first place?”

I wish her answer could be because of me. Because she was trying to save me from making a giant-ass mistake, but if she said that, she’d commit perjury when she goes to testify for me.

Saylor takes a deep breath and looks her probation officer square in the face. “I received a letter that really threw me off-balance. The bar was right there, and I walked in. I ordered a drink and held it in my hand. Travis interrupted my thoughts and made me realize that I was making a mistake. I quickly left.”

“And you haven’t been back since?”

“No.”

“Did you drink that night?”

She shakes her head.

“Am I to understand that the only reason you’re here today is because you’re the key witness to Mr. Kidd’s case?”

“Yes.”

“With all due respect, Officer Frey, do any of your cases come in here willingly to let you know they’ve violated their probation?” Irvin makes a very valid point, and it was something I was going to say. “Let’s be fair here. My client is here confessing her actions and asking for leniency. She made a mistake and is willing to complete another round of community service.”

Just no jail, I plead silently.

Officer Frey taps his pen on the table. The constant echo is annoying and getting on my nerves rather quickly. His face contorts from an expression of anger to concentration and into some odd look that I can only liken to constipation. When he finally sets his pen down, he leafs through the file folder in front of him. I’m assuming it’s Saylor’s case. I catch brief glimpses of photos of what looks like a car accident. My insides turn, knowing that she was in that mangled mess and drunk because of me. And Jeffrey. I know it’s not entirely his fault, but I can blame him. If he hadn’t texted her that night, none of this would’ve happened. For all I know, we could’ve been together this entire time, and our lives would be different.

“I’m going to assign you thirty hours of community service, which needs to be done by March first.”

Saylor’s body visibly sighs. “Thank you.”

“Ms. Blackwell, I like you. You’re one of my few cases that actually follows the rules. Please don’t get into any further trouble. Next time I won’t be lenient, and you will face jail time.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“Let me know when you start your CS hours and where. I’ll be watching.”

Irvin motions for us to stand and leave, and honestly, I can’t get out of there fast enough. As soon as we step out, I pull her into my arms and give her the best fucking hug I can give her.

“Piece of cake,” I whisper before adding, “one down, and two to go.” My court date is next, but not before we have a chance to get married. When she takes the stand in my defense, she’ll be my wife, and she’ll tell the truth about that night. Part of me is hoping that Blue, or Rachel Ward, decides to testify. I know that rape victims get to keep their names out of the paper, but something tells me that she’ll want everyone to know who exactly is bringing Travis Kidd down.