Absolute Power (Southern Justice #1 (5 page)

It was one thing for my brother to tease me, we did that sort of thing to one another all the time. My reputation of being tough as nails as a street cop followed me as I went up in rank. Now, cops would call me, Morgan or Captain. Never Captain Morgan, at least not if they wanted to keep their teeth.

Again, I was feeling generous today, so the newbie would keep his smile for now. Slowly, I turned my body in his advancing direction. His hair, which minutes ago was slicked back against his head, was now in oily strands around his face. Jacket hanging open, the tails flopping in the breeze behind him.

“Sir, it’s important I speak with you.” His labored breathing gave me reason to chuckle. He was going to need to be in better shape if he wanted to keep up with my team. I feared he might vomit as he finally reached where I’d stopped. I gave him a minute to catch his breath and find his balls.

“Sir, I’m P…Pre…” He tried to speak through his body’s need for oxygen. His face showing signs of air loss—skin flushed, perspiration flowing down the sides of his face in streams. His tie was too tight, suit too stiff, and his entire body flexed with his intake of air.

I never wore suits like the rest of the Detectives, even when I was brand new like this guy. I wanted to blend in when doing an investigation, jeans and a T-shirt and always my boots.

“Sorry, it’s my first day.” He finally regained his breath, his balls still questionable.

“Let’s see if it’s your last?” My generosity was rapidly reaching its limit. My hands crossed against my chest, sending him a clear signal he was wasting my time. I wanted to see how much he paid attention in school.

Taking one last, deep breath, followed by two steps back, his fingers reached for his tie, loosening the constricting band. “Sorry, my name is Preston Daniels. I’m a new paralegal for Anderson and Associates. “ With the tie in a more comfortable constriction, he adjusted the wire-rimmed glasses I hadn’t noticed before and continued. “I was sent here to wait for your arrival and to be present during your questioning of our client until Mr. Anderson arrives.”

Preston Daniels seemed to catch on quick. He was also either undereducated or misinformed as to what he could legally do in this state. Since he did back away and not try my patients, I would give him an ounce of advice.

“Well, Daniels. Since you’ve already admitted this is your first day, I’m going to hand you some free advice.” My index and middle finger tapping his suit covered chest. I’d give him credit for being a brave man, as he didn’t look at my fingers or back away from me.

“Don’t ever call me Captain and Morgan in the same breath, pick one or the other when addressing me.” I could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed my words.

“Next, your job as a paralegal gets you a seat in a courtroom, a desk at your office and a warning from me. What it doesn’t get you, is the right to sit in when I interrogate the suspect your boss is trying to defend.” He opened his mouth to argue, but a look from me stopped him. If I knew Anderson the way I did, he told this guy he was going to mentor and help him to become an attorney if he showed promise. I’d lost track of how many of Anderson’s minions he had told the same bullshit.

“Now the last piece of advice…” I adjusted my stance, my boots thumping on the wooden floor. “Turn back the way you came, get in your car and drive yourself over to twenty-two Grave Street.” I pointed behind me in the direction of my father’s office. “Walk in the double doors with gold letters spelling out
VanBuren and Morgan
.” Emphasizing my point by drawing an invisible banner in the air above his head. “Tell the beautiful woman at the front desk you spoke with Dylan. Tell her you want to work for a real paycheck and not bullshit excuses.”

He shook his head and tried to speak. My fingers pressed firmly in his chest discouraged him from going any further with his thoughts.

“Trust me, the money you have in your pocket right now is the only money you may see for a long while. If you choose to ignore me, fine. But when your pretty girlfriend wants to go out to dinner and you haven’t gotten a single dime in wages, I can assure you as soon as she and I have finished
our
dinner, I
will
be fucking her tight ass over the sink in
your
bathroom. The choice is yours.”

I walked around him, his hand raised to argue, his brain still fixed on the warning I gave as his eyes blinked rapidly and his mouth hung open. Time would tell if he was a smart guy or if I would be having a new piece of ass to pound into.

After securing both of my weapons with the officer at the processing desk, I listened for the buzz sound of the unlocked doors. I noticed several of my men standing outside one of the interrogation rooms.

Simpson and Rogers, the arresting officers, were also standing outside the closed door. As I approached, the four broke their circle and faced me.

“Morning, Captain.” My two female Detectives, Kennedy and Murphy, spoke in unison. When I learned I would have two women on my team, I prayed it would be these two ladies.

Sabrina Kennedy, a blonde bombshell with a mean right hook and a mouth foul enough to make a sailor blush, originally from New Orleans, Louisiana. When hurricane Katrina forced her family to relocate to Charleston, she had to prove herself a worthy candidate against the other guys competing. Story I heard, she made two of them cry and drop out when she took them by the balls…literally.

Christy Murphy, a raven-haired heartbreaker. She was my kind of girl the first time I saw her, trouble was, I had all the wrong equipment. Born and raised right here in Charleston, she had three older brothers…and one bathroom. She learned how to pee fast and fight tough.

“What bestselling form of fiction is he selling in there today?” I questioned, a phrase my mother once said to my middle brother Austin when he got caught coming in after curfew.

“Nothing original. He’s plagiarizing every other fucker we’ve had in there lately,” Murphy returned, not missing my attempt at levity.

“Says he was banging his girlfriend at the time of the attack, told us she will testify for him.” By the glint in her eye, she knew this was about to get real interesting.

“Well, let’s go break the bad news to Largo that his girl’s mouth is as big as her ass.”

I pushed open the door as Murphy and Kennedy walked in behind me. Kevin North, aka Largo as his thug friends called him, sat in the metal chair adjacent to the single table in the room; his hands in handcuffs attached to an iron bolt in the center of the table.

Kevin was no stranger to the judicial system. His first arrest was the day he turned thirteen. Ten years and seventy-two arrests later, he would be going to prison for a long visit.

“Lardo,” I announced, my tone that of an old friend, intentionally bashing his street name. My granddad told us if you wanted to get a man angry and fast, mess with his name or mess with his girl. If you wanted him to lose complete control, do both at once.

“I hear you were fucking your girl last night while that doc over at University was getting the shit beat out of him.” I pulled the opposite chair away from the table, spinning it around and straddling it. My forearms parallel to my chest, eyes locked on the piece of shit.

“Yeah, I was. What’s it to ya? You wanna suck my dick, too?” He smirked, leaning to one side, trying to hide his bouncing left foot. Murphy snickered behind me.

“Hey, I got room for you too, sweetheart.” He sucked air between his front teeth as he winked at her.

“No, thanks, I’m not into short stories,” she tossed back I battled hard to keep the smile off my face,

“See, I got two problems with your story, Lardo.” He pulled against his handcuff, mouth open with teeth bared. It would appear our resident douche bag didn’t like being disrespected by beautiful women.

“First, there is no way you were with your fat-assed whore of a girlfriend last night.” He yanked angrily at his wrists, spit falling to the table from his incoherent shouting at me.

“Want to know why, you sorry motherfucking piece of donkey shit?” Reaching over, I grabbed the hair on the top of his head, slamming his face against the metal of the table. Blood began to drip from both nostrils, his pulling increased, although his shouting stopped.

“For one, I got your ugly assed mug on hospital security.” I tapped the table in front of him. “We have the entire attack starring you and your band of misfits, being pussies and attacking an unarmed man.”

He leaned back in his chair, blood still dripping down his face, the large gap in his two front teeth making an appearance. “You ain’t got shit.” He spat, blood landing on the table not two inches from my arms.

“Well, Lardo, that’s where you’re wrong,” I goaded. “It’s a clear picture of you, kicking a man repeatedly after he was out cold. “I shook my head back and forth, briefly looking at the blood on the table, then back to his cold dark eyes. “Not surprising you would choose to do it like that. You couldn’t fight your way out of a wet paper sack if it was torn half way down.” I shrugged my shoulders, adding to the poking of his pseudo tough exterior.

“See, girls want a man who can take care of them, keep ’em safe from cocksuckers like you,” I sneered, leaning into his face. “At least that’s what your girl said last night as I fucked her blind.”

I jumped out of the chair as Largo began thrashing around and lunging at my teasing. Kennedy walked around and smacked him upside the head, shouting at him to cool his jets.

“You think you got me, motherfucker?” he began to shout, ignoring Kennedy’s blows to his face. “You ain’t got shit! I know who you are, who your daddy and grandpappy is.” He lunged at me once again. This time I moved closer to him, daring him to come at me. “You think you’re better’n me?” He looked me up and down, disgust written on his face. “Got your bitches here to protect you?” Looking to Kennedy and Murphy.

It was the wrong thing to say to them. These were two of the toughest officers in the city of Charleston. In a move, even I had a hard time catching, Murphy swept her leg around his chair, tilting the front just enough to set it off balance, sending Largo to the floor on his side, his hands still bound to the table top.

“Who you callin’ a bitch, you fat fuck?” She swore in his face, her body doubled over him. “You better pray your hot ass attorney gets you out of this place, otherwise that hunk of fat you got for an ass is gonna be somebody’s come catcher!”

Simpson helped set Largo back in an upright position. He wouldn’t look at Murphy once he was situated. She scared the piss out of him. Hell, I was waiting on the smell of shit to come waving off him.

Just when I was about to straddle the chair again, the door flew open. Standing in the doorframe, with his knock off suit and bad comb over, was Corbin Anderson. I knew he was coming; it was only a matter of time.

“Captain Mo…” He stopped himself before he couldn’t take the name back. My right eyebrow raised in challenge for him to continue.

“Captain, care to share with me why my client has blood on his face?” He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and crossed the room, his shoes squeaking on the hardwood floor. Placing his briefcase on the table, he handed the cloth to Largo.

“C-unt-selor” I couldn’t resist the term my granddad created. Hate wasn’t a strong enough word for how he felt about Anderson. His generation put a lot of faith in a man’s character.

“Dylan, you be a man of your word, not like those dick heads your daddy and I defend every day.”
Granddad took every opportunity to give us pieces of advice. Having him around was like having two fathers, always watching and showing you the right way. The kids in our neighborhood would seek him out; ask him the questions they couldn’t bring to their own fathers.

Right before my youngest brother Chase left for boot camp, he had us boys over to his house, set us down with a bottle of Hennessey and gave us each a paracord bracelet. In the center was a metal plate with the word, “Faith” pressed into the metal
. “Boys, when feel like you’ve lost everything and the world seems to be working against you, I want you to always have faith. You can never lose your faith in man, country or a better tomorrow.”

Twisting my bracelet, which hadn’t left my wrist in the years since he gave it to me, I looked to a now bruising Largo.

“Must have not eaten his girl’s pussy right last night before he banged her.” I shrugged my shoulders as I exited the room, not waiting for Anderson or Largo to rebut.

Murphy and Kennedy flanked me as we left the station. Years ago we would’ve had a good laugh after an interrogation much like this one. They had become immune to my antics, no longer finding my shit funny anymore.

“I’m headed over to University Hospital to check in with Dr. Gillman.”

I’d been to this particular hospital so many times the security guards knew me by name. I didn’t bother to check in with the nurses anymore, many of them
knew
me all too well.

Nurse Josephine, a robust woman whose red hair never moved when she walked, always had a smile and lipstick kiss for me.

“I don’t even have to ask who you’re looking for today, do I?” Shaking her head after her famous kiss to my cheek, wiping the lipstick smear with her chubby hand.

“No, Ma’am,” I responded, showing her the respect my momma demanded of me.

I had everything I needed for this particular case, it would be nice this time to assure the victim we had the fuckers sitting in a locked jail cell.

“Do me a favor, kick the little shits in the balls for me, will ya?”

Ms. Josephine was a lady first and foremost. However, when it came to something she was passionate about, all manners went right out the window.

“Consider it done.”

My cell began to vibrate in my pocket, excusing myself and taking my phone in hand, I stepped toward the stairwell. Just as I went to accept the call, the speakers above my head announced a code blue. Out of nowhere, a nurse came running from a door I didn’t even notice.

“Oof!” She exclaimed as she ricocheted backward. Acting on instinct, I grasped her shoulders to steady her.