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Their Final Score: Untouched, Vol 6 of 6

Page 12

by C.S. Berry

“I’ve been busy.” I don’t go into details. My parents are playing tug of war with me, and I don’t want to be part of their battle. I just wish one of them would end it, so things can move on.

“You got time now?” He steps toward his office, keeping his eyes on me like I’m a flight risk.

Fuck it. I need to find out what happened with the basketball guys anyway.

I glance at my phone before setting it down on the kitchen table. My burner phone is still in my pocket. While we were on the field for flag football, I texted Miller to let him know if anything happened to Harper, the deal would be off. My dad would withdraw from representing Adam and Bryant.

They want my help? They can make sure my girl doesn’t go missing. Even if they need to be the ones to take down Zach Gray.

My dad leads me into his office and rounds the desk. “Close the door.”

I do and drop into the seat across from him. For most men, him being behind his desk could be seen as a power play, but not my father. This is just business as usual for him. I relax into the chair and put my hands over my stomach with my legs stretched out in front of me.

“What’s up?” I ask with a little belligerence. No need to make the old man feel like I’m on his side in this tug of war. I don’t agree with what my parents are doing to each other. There’s no winning side to this.

My dad is in a dark gray polo shirt with slacks. He always looks neat and respectable, just like my mother. Maybe that’s why they stay married—because they look good together.

It’s a stupid reason.

“What’s going on with you?” Dad sits back like he’s just checking in with me. But he’s been dogging my steps for at least a week. If he wanted to check in, he’d just text. That’s our normal mode of communication.

“What do you mean?” I stay relaxed, but mentally, I’m alert.

“You have a girlfriend? Harper Davidson?” He shifts a few pens on his desk.

“Yes.”

He arches an eyebrow but continues, “She was one of the girls attacked last night by the two guys you asked me to help out?”

“Yes.”

Dad runs a hand over the back of his neck. “Altruism or do you have plans of your own against these boys?”

“You’re worried I got them out so we could deliver our own style of justice?” Huh? Not the usual way we operate, but I could see how that could concern my dad.

Dad shrugs. “It’s something I would have done when I was your age.”

That also tracks with what I’ve learned about their generation.

“If that’s the only thing you’re worried about...” I move like I’m going to stand.

“Sit, Eli. That’s not the only thing, just the most pressing thing.” Dad waves his hand to my chair and I return to it. “If I’m representing these boys, they can’t show up Monday morning looking like they’ve been beat up. Do you want to explain to me why I’m taking on this case?”

I study him. He’s good. I mean, he knows how to ask the right questions. It makes him a great lawyer, but it was hard to get away with anything growing up without putting forth effort. Currently, I haven’t figured out where this line of questioning is really heading. But I’ll let it play out.

“It’s a favor to a friend at school. Those two guys are going to take the brunt of the charges while their leader, Zach Gray, will get off with a slap on the wrist just because he has a rich daddy.” I shrug. “Doesn’t seem fair if they’re calling this a prank that only the two that don’t have representation get charged.”

“You’re doing this to be fair?” My dad sounds doubtful. Time to drop some truth so he knows this isn’t a game.

“No, I’m doing this because Zach Gray attacked my girlfriend twice, and both times she’s been able to get away from him. The guy has a perceived grudge against me and is taking it out on my girl.” I shrug again like it doesn’t matter. Because there’s not a damned thing my dad can do to help me any more than he already is.

Dad pulls a folder in front of him and narrows his eyes. “Can we get him for stalking?”

I arch my eyebrow. This is his area, figuring out how to legally stop someone, but I’m not sure I’d trust his help. William Foster is still a client. Maybe my dad doesn’t know the connection between William and Zach, but it might be a conflict of interest. Besides, there’s not much he can do.

The legal route is mired in time that we don’t have. I shake my head.

“Both times happened during a football game while she was in the girls’ locker room. The first time she was alone.” I blow out a breath. “Only the second time was reported.”