Zero Tolerance (Lost Kings MC 12)

We met in a courtroom. I sat in the area designated for prisoners. Shackles laced my hands and feet together. I shuffled into the room wearing a spiffy orange jumpsuit, the county correctional logo stenciled across my back in big white letters—just in case anyone thought I suffered from bad fashion sense.

She sat in the front row. I didn’t hang my head when I entered. I stood proud and tall looking over the entire room. Some of my brothers stood along the back wall, waiting to see if I’d get bail.

I couldn’t find my attorney in the sea of people. His big, shiny, bald dome should have been easy to spot. My gaze wandered back to the girl in the front row. Long, straight, reddish-brown hair flowed down past her shoulders. Straight bangs across her forehead framed brilliant green eyes. Even from where I sat, I spotted freckles splattered across her nose. The deep green suit she wore emphasized the creaminess of her skin. The banister separating the criminals from the common folk blocked my view of anything below her shoulders, but that angelic face hooked me right away.

The sheriff leaned over and whispered to me, “Your attorney called to say he’s running late.” I nodded and mumbled a “thanks” without taking my eyes off the girl. Was her old man locked up? Was she a witness to a crime? Would my asshole lawyer get here so I could get free and talk to the girl?

“Any other message?” I asked Deputy Brown. He was a decent guy as far as pigs went. He’d treated me with respect, hadn’t tried to bash my head into anything, and even brought me a donut before leading me upstairs to court. He didn’t get a chance to answer, because the bailiff made a big show of telling me to shut up. Arrogant prick wasn’t good enough to even be a cop, but he sure acted like one. I’d dealt with him before.

My eyes returned to the girl. She sat patient and attentive, waiting her turn. Once or twice, she looked at the clock. Only a slight twitch of her lips indicated her annoyance.

After what seemed like an eternity, the bailiff called the next case, and the girl stood up. She hauled a battered briefcase over her shoulder and stepped through the swinging gate up to the table across from where I sat.

Holy shit.

If I’d been anywhere else in the world, I would have whistled long and low to express my appreciation for the soft curves of her body. The skirt she wore fell to her knees, but it clung to all the right spots and showcased a fantastic set of calves. Her modest heels clicked over the wooden floor, calling my attention to her slender ankles. I was so busy drooling over her I missed it when she stated her name.

The dickhead bailiff brought over a chair and actually smiled at her. She thanked him politely. The judge made some chit-chat with her, and she let out a girlish giggle. People seemed to know her. Like her.

“Attorney Kendall?”

“Yes, your honor.” She stood up. Ah, she was a lawyer. That explained the chit-chat. She argued some civil matter I didn’t understand or care about. I listened to her make her case, then watched her sit down. Her opponent didn’t have a lawyer. He bumbled around and generally made a fool of himself. She listened with a passive expression, then argued her position again. The judge ruled in her favor.

I wanted her. In more ways than one after her performance. The courtroom was almost empty. My guys still occupied the back row, but that was it. If my lawyer didn’t show up soon, I’d be screwed.

I nudged Deputy Brown with my elbow. “Can she represent me?”

“I don’t think she’s a criminal attorney.”

“Just for the arraignment. To get me out.”

“I’ll ask.”

The deputy motioned to the bailiff to watch me and went to talk to the clerk. She nodded, and when the judge had a moment, she whispered in his ear.

Fuck. The girl was putting her stuff away and getting ready to leave. I really wanted her. I mean, I wanted to fuck her, of course. But I also wanted her to represent me. People seemed to like and respect her. I’d been in and out of the criminal justice system long enough to know getting out of trouble was sometimes less about what you knew and more about who you knew. If I’d gotten picked up in a different county, I could have used my connections to make this go away. Here, I was kind of stuck. I needed her.

“Attorney Kendall, could you stay and do an arraignment, please?” the judge asked off the record.

Her jaw dropped, and the color drained from her face. “Uh, I’m not a criminal attorney, your honor,” she stammered.

“It’s pretty simple. Mr. North’s attorney got delayed. Don’t make me appoint you,” he teased.

“Well, um, just for the limited purpose of this arraignment?” she asked with a hopeful lilt to her voice.

“That’s fine.”

The judge waved me over next to her. Her big eyes widened in shock as I lumbered over. I was mildly insulted. Had she really not noticed me the entire time I’d been sitting there?

“I can pay you,” I whispered down to her.

She looked startled. “It’s okay. What are we dealing with?”

I liked the way she said “we.”

“Weed.”

She gave me a blank stare.

“Marijuana. Got caught with a couple blunts.” Acting on a bad tip from one of the club’s many enemies, the cops had been hoping to pin a whole hell of a lot more on me. This was why, instead of ignoring the weed like most cops did these days, I was standing here in shackles and the orange jumpsuit.

“Oh geez.” She rolled her eyes. At me or the charge, I wasn’t sure.

“Do you have a record?”

“About a mile long.”

That stopped her. She stared up at me, searching my face for the truth. Apparently deciding no one would joke about that, she nodded her head.

“Can you post bail? Do you work? Have a family?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

She didn’t ask what kind of work. Or what kind of family for that matter.

“Your honor, I’ve had a chance to confer with my client.”

“Very well. Let’s call it.”

His clerk stood and read out, “The People of the State of New York versus Rochlan North.” Look at that—the old gal even pronounced my first name right.

My girl looked up at me again. My manners were shit. I’d never bothered to introduce myself, I guess.

The judge slammed his gavel down. First time I’d heard him do it all morning. The sharp thwack broke the staring contest my pretty lawyer and I were engaged in.

“Do you wish to hear the reading of the charges, counselor?”

She hesitated for a minute, and the judge covered the microphone with his hand. “Usually the attorney waives the reading, Miss Kendall.”

“I know, your honor. Thank you. Yes, I’ll waive the reading. May I have a copy of the charges for my file, though?”

“Yes, of course. Do you wish to be heard on bail?”

“Yes, your honor. My client assures me he can pay a reasonable sum. He’s a hard-working family man, so it would be in society’s best interest to allow him to continue to work and provide for his family while he waits to address these false charges.”

I’m proud to say I kept a straight face during all of that. She impressed me with her quick thinking, though. Criminal attorney or not, she was clever. I had a fondness for clever. Clever kept you alive.

Cute and smart. I should get arrested more often.

“Very well. Bail is set in the amount of five hundred dollars cash. If your client is able to post it now, he can be processed downstairs instead of going back to county.”

She looked up at me and arched an eyebrow. I nodded and motioned my crew forward.

“That’s acceptable. Thank you, your honor.”

“Off the record,” the judge said to the court reporter. He looked back up at my attorney. “See, that wasn’t so hard, Miss Kendall.” The judge’s face lit up in a wolfish smile I didn’t take kindly to. Already in my head, I’d laid claim to this woman whose first name I didn’t even know.

The sheriff came

over and gripped my elbow.

“Can’t you remove the restraints, now?” she asked the sheriff with wide, pleading eyes.

To say her request stunned me would be an understatement. No one had ever given a crap about my discomfort.

The sheriff did not look surprised. He answered her gently. “No counselor, not till he’s posted the bail money. You can meet us downstairs.” He nodded toward the guys standing behind the banister. “His posse can show you the way.”

She hesitated, and I read the expression on her face loud and clear. She didn’t want to follow my crew anywhere. In fact, she looked like she wanted to run away.

“Go ahead, I’ll be fine.” I appreciated that she’d given it a try. Sheriffs wouldn’t break protocol no matter how owl-eyed innocent she acted. It sure turned me on, though. Maybe that was the moment I fell in love with her.