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18
Walking out of the bathroom the next morning Porsche stepped between Bugs’ legs as he sat on the bed. Dressed and ready to go he pressed his face into her belly and she ran her fingers through his hair then cradled the back of his head. With court this morning, she knew her nerves were nothing compared to his. Pretrial motions that’s the way Cream explained it. Her appeal to have a plea agreement for the custody issue settled and the charges for murder tossed when she dropped her evidence discovery on them. On top of the files from Mitch’s phone, she had testimony from a retired Army Major turned civilian therapist and two retired LAPD officers one of which was an elected county Sherriff.
Cream had set up a war room at a hotel, she needed the quiet you couldn’t find at a clubhouse. In a few minutes she would be by to pick them up and transport them to the courthouse. Calls would be made to alert them Mike would be leaving the location. It was the only way he was allowed to leave the clubhouse they’d made their base for the last few days.
“Bugs, we need to get a move on.” She stroked along the back of his neck. “It’ll be all right, I’ll be there by your side the whole time.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll be sitting up front with Cream,” he whined a bit, his arms squeezing at her hips as he held on as if he feared her falling. “But as long as I know you’ll be behind me and there for me I will be alright. It just pisses me off that we have to go through with this. I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”
His nerves and fears leached into her. One never knew what you could handle until you faced what felt like a no win situation. She wished things were different and they didn’t have to go through all this. That she’d met him at Hack’s wedding or he’d randomly came by to visit his friend. While she was glad that Sydie Bean was safe, part of her wondered if they could have met under different circumstances she could have helped saved her earlier. At least there was one thing she was sure of, he wasn’t telling anyone where Syd was and even if they figure it out the Hard Road would take her away.
“Let’s go Turbo, we need to get this over with.” Cold slipped over her as he stood, taking her hand in his, bringing the back of her hand to his lips. “How about you lie to me and say the DA is going to look at the evidence and give me a gold star for saving my daughter.”
“They’d be a fool not to,” she said. “Cream should be outside. Let’s go.”
When they stepped out the door they almost ran over Cream and Drac. “Sorry guys Drac was coming to help me find you. It’s time to go.”
Cream smiled softly, her long, naturally curly hair was twisted into a double French twist, to keep it back from her face coming back into a bun at the base of her neck. Since the first day Porsche met Cream the woman was in leather and ass kicking boots. To see her in a power suit like this was a bit of a shock. On her wedding day Porsche had been prepared to see the woman in a dress. Believing she’d be in leather today told her, her mind needed a jolt into reality. Following the attorney through the clubhouse and toward her rental SUV parked at the curb out front.
The silence was deafening in the vehicle. Porsche sat in the backseat by herself, knee bouncing as she watched Michael while he pondered what would happen today. The tick in his jaw as he watched the world passing by told her everything she needed to know about the worry building up in the man.
Walking into the big building they walked side by side and Cream pointed to a bench outside of Court Room B.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said. “I need to check to see if the judge is on time and if the DA is up for a little pretrial discussion.”
Nerves had Porsche’s senses attuned to each footfall and swish of a door opening. Murmured discussions were an irritating mush of words she couldn’t make out even if they weren’t for her ears, she wanted to know. Trained in ways of at least giving the assumption of calm, Bugs could have convinced her the world around them didn’t matter. Her heart told her different. Thundering at a rapid speed until she knew she had to pop at least one Ativan to get through. She needed the focus it gave her to help with the singular problem she was facing and quiet the twenty others. Slower reflexes were okay, as long as they happened in time. She wasn’t driving, she was here to be the anchor Bugs needed to not lose his cool.
“Damn it,” he said as an older woman with his eyes approached and he stood. “Mom, I said—”
“A lot of foolishness,” she admonished.
With a shorter haircut and a business suit, Porsche felt self-conscious even if Cream told her the button down silk shirt and dress pants were on point. The first button was between her breasts, in contrast to Mrs. Hanover’s high collar with a satin bow.
“Mom, I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Porsche DeGrassa,” he said placing his hand on the small of Porsche’s back. “She’s been helping me with Sydney.”
“I’ve known in my heart you wouldn’t hurt her, but the things they’ve been saying on the TV…” the woman pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed at invisible tears. The stoic side of Mike on display with this woman. “Porsche, would you let me see my grandchild?”
“Mom, we can’t have this discussion here,” he stated.
How had he not broken down every horrific detail to the woman? She needed to know and not just because it was her grandchild, but because she needed to know her son had a reason. He wasn’t suffering from PTSD and hadn’t snapped. While he did say he zoned out for a moment, he knew what he was doing and why. Call him a vigilante, sometimes the world needed that
“Why? Why would you take her from Sassy, I know you said it had to be done, but I don’t understand how you could take a child from their mother. I raised you better than that Michael. Now I’ll stand behind you, but I’m not sure I can support this decision you’ve made. And that man—”
“I don’t fuckin believe it,” Mike growled and Porsche followed his sightline over his mother’s shoulder.
Stepping into the building a real blonde, in need of a good stylist was walking through the metal detectors with a man carrying a brief case. Brushing back a loose strand, the woman appeared threadbare with circles so dark, the concealer wasn’t so much hiding the darkness as brightening heavy bags. Between Mike’s mother’s words and the woman distraught look coming into the courthouse Porsche almost forgot what the woman had done and could feel an acidic burn up her throat.
The game abusers used to play the victim to the world had her thinking back to Sydney’s words. Asking about taking a bath by herself and about mean men. It was the heartbreak of a childhood stolen, the one thing you could never get back. A blip in a life well lived, destroyed before the child made it to double digits. Her future gone almost as fast.
Porsche slid her hand into his. She gently pulled him into her side as he hissed and tried to go forward. The rage thickening the veins along his throat and forehead as his jaw ticked. His eyes becoming dead as if his soul had stepped away to allow him to do what he needed to in order to get past this moment.
When the woman had gathered her items from the security bin and took stock of the hallway a scream rang out the moment she saw Bugs. “What did you do with our daughter!?”
Stalking toward him Porsche held on tighter to his hand and used every bit of might she had to keep him from meeting the woman halfway. The man in the suit trailed after her.
“Mrs. Everett,” the man called after right.
“Bugs,” Porsche said, keeping her voice even and calm.
