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Omar shook his head. “No. But I read that in the report.”
I stood up. “How do you know that, Dad?”
He glared at me. “Because I keep tabs on you. Everything you do. You got into a fight with two of those boys, didn’t you? On the football field, at school. You stormed up to them and started wailing on them. For no reason. And you don’t see them pressing charges on you, do you?”
Cecilia stepped to the forefront. “Are you saying Clint deserved to be run off the road?”
Dad rolled his eyes. “Hell, no! What I’m saying is that they came back for revenge. Like every single seventeen-year-old boy does when he’s been wronged. My son isn’t innocent in any of this. And the last thing he needs to be doing is batting off criminal charges of his own when he should be focusing on clawing himself out of high school. Because believe you me, his grades are barely there, at best.”
I flopped back down into my chair. I didn’t know what else to do. What else to say. I didn’t have any more fight left in me, and I didn’t care. I stared at the wall, listening as my father unleashed. He went on a damn rampage as my stepmother tried to calm him down. And all the while, the lawyer stood his ground. Took everything in. Listened to him with a nod of his head.
I just wanted to go home.
No, not home.
I wanted to go see Rae.
“Mr. Clarke?”
Omar’s voice ripped me from my trance. “Yeah?”
Dad hissed. “You mean, ‘yes, sir.’”
I nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. Yes, sir?”
“It sounds like your family has some things you need to discuss. Pros and cons, and all that.”
Dad huffed. “You’re damn right we do.”
Omar pointed his finger. “One more outburst out of you and you’re hauled away in handcuffs. Do you hear me?”
Cecilia stepped closer to him. “Howard, I’m begging you. Stop it.”
He shrugged her off. “I’d like to see you try.”
Omar shrugged. “Fair enough.”
He pressed a button underneath his desk and two massive men appeared in the doorway. My eyes bulged as Cecilia stepped toward me, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. She gasped and squealed. We watched as Dad struggled against the two massive brutes. It felt like an out-of-body experience, watching him struggle like that. Watching him fight against them until they dragged him out of the office.
Then one of them reached over and closed the door.
“You aren’t going to throw him in jail, are you?”
Cecilia’s voice sounded frantic. But part of me hoped the lawyer did. I looked over just in time to see Omar shake his head, though. Which disappointed me a bit.
“No. He’ll just be removed outside until he can calm down. But this meeting won’t take much longer. I know you still have some things to mull over and discuss.”
Cecilia nodded. “We do, but you’ve been very helpful. Thank you so much.”
I watched the lawyer reach into his desk. He pulled out a small card, then scribbled something across the back. He didn’t hand it to my stepmother, though. He handed it directly to me. I took the card from him and he shook my hand. But he held my gaze with a fervor that magnetized me to my spot.
“When you have a decision, you call me, okay? But, if you need anything—ever—reach out. I’m here to help. Always.”
And as I read between the lines of his unspoken offering, I pocketed his card.
A warning much like the one the doctor in the hospital gave me.
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