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“A senator just like the man who mistreated him.”
I understood now why Matthew called us star-crossed. An ill-fated pair because our fathers were adversaries. Victims of circumstances that were out of our control.
But I would never accept that moniker, for it was nothing more than a Shakespearean trope.
Our DNA may be set in stone, but my heart loves him freely.
“That’s like comparing apples to oranges,” Dad refuted, clearly bothered by being lumped together with the likes of McClaren.
“Now you know how Matthew felt,” I quipped.
“Well, it seems we’re both wrong about each other.” He acquiesced.
True. But I wouldn’t force it upon Matthew like I would my father. They just were not built the same.
“You believe me?” I asked, knowing it didn’t really matter because my mind and heart were already decided.
“Of course I do, son.”
“What about Niles?”
“I’ll take care of Niles.”
“Those drugs were not mine, and they weren’t in my wagon,” I told him. “I think the cop planted them.”
“Why do you think that?” he asked, not accusatory at all.
“Because he pulled me over for no definitive reason. I realize I smelled like beer, but I passed the breathalyzer. I cooperated and let them search my car.”
“Never agree to something like that ever again,” Dad rumbled.
“I didn’t have anything to hide.” I defended myself. “Like I would have agreed if I was actually packing coke.”
“Hm,” Dad hummed.
“They said something before they arrested us,” I told him. “Made a comment about how, the last time we spent the night in jail, one of their friends got transferred.”
Realization dawned on my father’s face. “You think they did this for revenge because I had the officer moved to a new precinct?”
“Why else would they say that?”
“Is there anything else? You can tell me anything,” he stated sincerely.
“There’s nothing,” I said. “Except the two officers at the scene were dicks.”
“You’re sure?”
I thought about it. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Thanks for telling me, son.”
“Now what?”
“Now you can go. I’ll handle this.”
“What about McClaren?”
“I’ll handle him too.”
