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“Oh no. It’s real. I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere.” I took his face in my hands, staring into those soft gray eyes. I bent closer and kissed him softly. He burrowed into my side even more, snuggling into me like he often did. I wanted to keep him there with me forever.
But eventually, Royce stirred. “I can’t fall asleep. I have to go home.” He groaned and rubbed his face. “That word sounds bitter in my mouth when it refers to somewhere I don’t want to be. But if I stay too long, it will be suspicious. Can’t have that.” He sounded more than annoyed as he grabbed his clothes.
I left him alone about it for now. And held on to hope that things would soon be better for him, and for us.
Chapter thirteen
Final Court Date
Royce
The new court date with the new judge was set for the first week of January. I had no clue how Drew managed to get the date on the schedule so quickly. I figured he had his own strings to pull, but it certainly didn’t include paying off anyone. I only hoped his tactics kept my dad from paying off anyone else, either.
I was nervous as I walked into the courtroom, but I held on to the belief that this would help me. Plan B was to reduce the supervision, and plan C was at least setting the grounds for another appeal. But I sent all the positive vibes out into the universe that plan A would work and get me out of this mess.
I took a seat and waited. Drew came in and sat behind me while Bruno sat to my right. We waited, stood when the judge came in and followed directions, moving to the front when we were called.
Whether it was because it was an appeal or his personal style, I didn’t know, but this judge handled things a little differently this time. Rather than the attorneys directing the proceedings, the judge spent a considerable amount of time asking all parties questions. A lot of it centered around what happened in the first proceedings. And then he moved to what my life had been like prior to the conservatorship.
“Where is the psychiatric evaluation?” the judge asked my father’s lawyer, Luther McNeil.
McNeil shook his head. “We didn’t feel we needed one in this case—”
“Not needed?” The judge actually threw his hands in the air. “Then what basis do you have for even requesting this protection in the first place?” He took off his glasses and used one of the arms to motion toward the paperwork in front of him, making a circle with them over it. “A conservatorship is set up to help and protect people who are incapable of fully managing their own affairs. You realize that Mr. Mabry isn’t old, physically impaired, or otherwise incapable. So unless you’re proving mental limitations, which, by the way…” he tapped the papers with his glasses, “…this is what you originally claimed.”
My eyes bugged out. I hadn’t known what they claimed. I’d seen the papers my lawyer gave me, but I hadn’t seen where it said anything about mental incapacity. I leaned over to Bruno and whispered, “What’s he talking about?”
Bruno patted my arm and nodded forward to the judge. I focused back on what he was saying. “…without some type of professional evaluation, you have no case.”
“Sir, with much respect,” McNeil began his defense. “The evidence presented of Mr. Mabry’s actions and behaviors indicate—”
“No, they don’t.” The judge interrupted him again. It was probably the third time, and what could McNeil do about it? Arguing with a judge got you a contempt charge. “I don’t see one thing in here that indicates Mr. Mabry is incapable of making sound decisions. In fact, quite the contrary.”
McNeil started trying their old defense again. “This deviant behavior. The pup-play and his investment in this pornography proves it.”
The judge wasn’t having any of his accusations and actually rolled his eyes. “This business is—or was—making a nice profit until you withdrew the investment.” He tsked and shook his head. “And there is no evidence of anything wrong or untoward with this business. The individuals involved aren’t even naked. And they are all consenting adults. Wait.” He flipped through the papers. “Ah, here. In fact, this is an example of the document their clients complete that states and affirms that they are over eighteen years of age and of sound mind and body and understand the rules of the engagement.” He held the paper up. I recognized it as the sign-up package and waiver for the Tam-PAH mosh. I couldn’t help but smirk. “Incidentally, I don’t see any financial assessments in here, either.” The judge leaned back. “The investment portfolio submitted for Mr. Mabry is quite impressive. He’s doing exceedingly well on his own. So, what exactly is the discrepancy you’re client is claiming?”
McNeil started up with the pup-play thing again, but the judge shut him down.
“There are certain measures to be upheld when entering into this type of conservatorship. And I’m not seeing any of them. Not one. What I do see is how, upon winning the first case, your client proceeded with a complete takeover of Mr. Mabry’s life. His funds, his employment, his home, his transportation—”
My father jumped up out of his chair. “That death trap was going to get my son killed!”
“Sit down before I have you removed.” The judge pointed those glasses at him, and I covered my mouth to keep myself from laughing. “Now. As I was saying. There is nothing in this—this fiasco—because I can’t think of any other word for it except an overbearing father’s desire to control his capable, adult son.” He sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms. “Nothing in this fiasco to warrant a conservatorship.”
The courtroom was silent for a long moment. I inhaled deeply and held my breath, and it felt like the rest of the world was holding it with me. This was my life. My future. In the hands of one man in a black robe. None of it had been fair from the beginning, but as I waited, I swear I felt the earth below me move. A slight shift back to right.
Then, the judge motioned my side of the room to stand. “Please rise, Mr. Mabry.”
I did so, and Bruno stood beside me.
“I find in your favor in this matter. If I could award you damages, I certainly would, but that’s not what I’m here to do. What I can do is order this conservatorship immediately ended, and all financial control returned to you. I can order, and do order, Mr. McNeil to have documents of the accounting of every financial transaction on your behalf sent to you within twenty-four hours. What you do with that is your business.”
Bruno nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome, but I’m not finished.” The judge gathered the papers as he continued. “As for Mr. McNeil, I’m recommending a disciplinary hearing and a review of your finances, as well as that of Judge Bryer.” He was the previous judge for this case who awarded my father total control of my life. “It seems to me that neither of you understand the law. This is a gross abuse of a legal doctrine set to protect the innocent, and you and your client used it as a tool for interference and subjugation. I might add that Mr. Mabry, senior, should know better. You and your family have been in our community for a long time. You have a history of being fair and just. But this? No, this was none of that.”
Afterward, he dismissed the court, apparently needing a break before his next case. I presumed it was probably to wash that bad taste out of his mouth.
