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Guilty as Charged

Page 3

by Harlow James


  I stand there motionless, my heart beating wildly in my chest. For a woman who generally considers herself confident, this task seems insurmountable right now. I’m starting to sweat just thinking about putting myself out there like that. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Yes, I am. You’re going to find some man that doesn’t know who you are and bang him. Be filthy, dirty. Live in the moment. You’ll never see him again, and then you’ll have an amazing story to tell your grandkids one day.”

  I laugh. “I am not telling my grandkids stories about my sex life.”

  “I am. I’m gonna be that old woman sitting in the room full of her family that chuckles at the fact that they all exist because I got laid.”

  My shoulders bounce from my laughter as we stop in front of a house that is being built, the wooden beams framing the walls the only things standing on the foundation.

  “Looks like you’re gonna have new neighbors soon,” I say as a crew of guys comes around the back of the house, arms full of tools as they move to load them into the work trucks. A Gibson Construction logo is plastered on the doors, a booming construction company that’s grown in the area in recent years.

  The eye candy in front of me is definitely a step up from the man-child I was salivating over earlier. Tan skin on bared chests, tattoos weaving over bulging biceps, narrow hips that frame deep Vs leading into worn jeans strut across the yard as the three men prepare to leave for the day, their hard hats resting solidly on their heads.

  “Damn,” I mutter out loud as Ally turns to me and grins.

  “See something you like?”

  I nod. Yeah. That’s what I need. A man. Not a boy like Jared. A man with muscles and brawn. Someone who can lift me up and fuck me against the wall. I want some meat to hold on to, someone to make me forget and feel bold, yet protected as well…

  “That a girl. Talk dirty like that next weekend!”

  “What?” I turn to her as she starts to chuckle.

  “Did you not realize you were just talking aloud right now?”

  “Oh, God. No!” I bury my head in my hands as Ally grabs me and we start to walk away.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I think you’re just horny. Go home and use your vibrator, get off, and then get ready to let loose next Saturday. That’s what you need to do. I’m sure of it.”

  “Dear lord, Ally. This has disaster written all over it. We have to make sure nothing bad happens that night, alright? Or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Even if something does happen, you can tell daddy-dearest to fuck off. You’re a grown woman, Syd. And I’ll be damned if my best friend dies with a shriveled up, dry vagina. You need to live a little and let go. Get out your Daisy Dukes, girlfriend. We’re going dancing!”

  Chapter 2

  Javier

  “So you’re just going to walk around with the floors like this? You know you could step on a nail …”

  I turn to glance at my sister, Selena, over my shoulder as she peers down at the concrete foundation exposed since I ripped up the tile last night. “That’s what shoes are for.”

  “A nail can still go through a shoe,” she counters.

  “Well, good thing I know how to clean up a job site then, huh?” I turn back around and take a sip from my glass of water.

  The past six months I’ve been working for Gibson Construction thanks to my brother-in-law pulling in a favor. Forrest Gibson works out at his gym so Andre asked him to help me out, knowing I would need a job when I got out of prison. It’s not easy getting a job with a record.

  She throws her hands up in defeat as Andre, my sister’s husband, and my best friend, joins us in the kitchen.

  “I like the paint color though. It’s a little darker than I would have chosen, but I think it suits you.”

  I lift a brow in his direction. “It was the closest I could get without painting it black.” My eyes scour the navy blue walls in the living room, pleased with the color choice even if it wasn’t my first choice.

  “I may have given you control over the remodel while living here, but you and I both know black walls won’t sell in the future.” Andre reaches for an apple out of the bowl on my counter and takes a large bite, moving next to my sister and placing his arm around her waist. “Plus, they’re a bitch to paint over.”

  “Hey, I still pay you rent while I’m here and you gave me full reign on doing what I wanted.”

  “I know. But you won’t be here forever. You’ll have your own place eventually and we’ll probably buy a bigger place down the road too,” he says after he finishes chewing.

  I huff sarcastically. “Yeah, we’ll see. Not too many people are looking to loan money to an ex-con.”

  Selena starts to move toward me, guilt written all over her face.

  “No, Selena. Don’t start.” I push her away and move around the two of them into the living room.

  “It won’t always be this way, Javi,” she says, trying to offer me some comfort for the thousandth time since I moved in. “It’s my fault you’re in this mess to begin with, so please let Andre and I help you however we can.”

  I take a seat on the couch and rest my head in my hands, a position I find myself in more than once a day, a perch of contemplation that allows me to remember why I’m in this place in my life to begin with.

  I hate the way my sister looks at me sometimes with that guilt resting in her eyes and shoulders for the circumstances of my life right now. It’s been six months since I was freed from prison, serving out my sentence that I willingly took to protect her. And even though I would do it again in a heartbeat, I think I failed to realize the ramifications of carrying around an aggravated assault on my record accompanied by a shoplifting charge from when I was sixteen.

  If it weren’t for Andre and my sister, I wouldn’t have a place to live or a job right now, that’s for sure. The guest house on the back of their property was in need of renovations, so they asked me to do so in exchange for a place to stay, but I still insisted on paying them rent while I was here.

  I have to say, two and a half years ago I never thought I’d be living in the backyard of my best friend’s house, or that he’d be married to my sister. I asked Andre to watch over her while I was in jail, knowing that he was the only other person I trusted to look after her since I couldn’t. I made him promise me that nothing else would happen to her while I served my time, but I guess he took his role a little too seriously when they ended up falling in love. By the time I was out, she had a ring on her finger and a wedding was planned. The truth is, I couldn’t have picked a better man for her and I’m happy that they continued to make something of their lives while I was counting down the days of mine in a jail cell.

  “You know, when I originally asked you for help, I didn’t mean sleep with my sister,” I toss in his direction as the sound of his chewing alerts me to his presence near us now on the couch.

  “Hey. I did my job. She’s the one who came on to me.” His smirk says it all as I catch my sister glare at him from across the room.

  “We’ll see how soon that happens again if you keep flapping your jaws, mister,” she reprimands.

  “Hey. I don’t want to hear about you two in that capacity, alright?”

  “You’re the one that brought it up, Javi,” my sister counters before resting her hand on my shoulder. “Anyway, just be patient. Time will pass and everything will get better. I just wish you hadn’t lost two years of your life.”

  “We both know that wasn’t an option, Selena,” I declare knowingly, a bout of anger humming through my veins.

  I turn my eyes toward her, taking in her bronze skin and golden eyes similar to mine. Her jet black hair is pulled up on top of her head in the pin-up style that is uniquely her, complete with the red scarf wrapped around her head. She even wears her eyeliner winged out to the side, reminiscent of the fifties style. My sister is the most important part of my life besides our mom. I can see a reformation in her face now, a stark contrast to
the way I found her that night, the image of her lifeless body draped over the couch burned into my retinas for all eternity.

  “Do you at least feel better now?” I ask, hoping that the passage of time has helped her heal, even though it put a stop to my life.

  She nods and then smiles over at Andre. “I do. I can never thank you enough for what you did for me, Javi. I love you. But it’s time for you to live your life. It’s been six months. Your record will follow you around and make some things difficult, but you can’t live alone and solemn forever. You deserve to be happy, have fun, make something of yourself.”

  I flash her a skeptical look. “The last time I had fun I beat the shit out of someone.”

  She retreats back into the couch, hanging her head down. “That night was fucked up for so many reasons. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t ever let go again. Everyone had too much to drink, everyone made shitty choices that night. But you keep living back in that moment. We need to move forward.”

  “Has your therapist been telling you this crap?” I ask jokingly, even though I know that my sister seeing a shrink has helped her heal tremendously while I was doing my time.

  Andre chimes in. “You don’t know the half of it, man. There were some dark days in the beginning, but Selena has attempted to heal, and you need to too.”

  I sigh heavily, leaning back into the couch cushions now. “I appreciate you two trying to break me out of my funk, but I’m better off just keeping to myself.”

  Selena stands and places her hands on her hips, pursing her painted red lips at me. “No, Javi. That’s not going to happen. You’re going out with us this weekend.”

  “Excuse me?” I stand and get up in her face like the many times I have before. My sister might be younger than me but she’s always thought she was the boss.

  “You heard me, Javi,” she spits. “You’re going out and that’s it.”

  I scoff at her and walk back into the kitchen. “You’re hilarious, Selena if you think you can boss me around.”

  “Javi, I think Selena’s right. You need to go out. You don’t have to drink. Just get out of this house. You’re starting to smell like sawdust and paint.”

  “It’s a new scent I’m trying out. I hear it makes all the women drop their panties.” Images of the last naked woman I saw come to the forefront, reminding me that it’s been a while since I got laid.

  Selena comes up to me and places her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look down at her. “I love you, Javi, but I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ll text you the details and we’ll pick you up Saturday.” Then she ruffles her hand through my overgrown hair. “But make sure you come see me this week for a haircut. Your hair is out of control.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  My sister owns a full-service hair, nail, and skin salon in Newberry, just on the other side of the town. In this small Texas town, there’s a road that divides the patrons, much like a caste system. One step over the line and the income level of the people drops by thousands. My sister and I grew up on the poor side of the road, but when she set up her business, she aimed to take the money from those that had it. Now she services housewives and women who have nothing better to do than drop hundreds of dollars on their appearance. I hate that she deals with those women every day, but she assures me that the money she earns makes up for it.

  She smacks me upside the head and then retreats, grabbing her purse from the counter. “I’m telling Mom you’re acting like a child. Pull your head out of your ass or I’m gonna put some gloves on and box with you at the gym.”

  “I’d love to see you try,” I call after her as she walks out the front door and heads to the main house. She and Andre stopped by just as they got home from work so they could see the progress I’ve made on the inside of my place. It’s a work in progress for sure, but I’m happy with the results as they’ve come along.

  “Go easy on her, man,” Andre says, interrupting my thoughts. “You can’t even begin to understand the guilt she feels over you doing time for her.”

  I let out a heavy breath. “I know. But going out for one night isn’t going to miraculously turn things around for me. I’m better off just lying low and not putting myself in a position to get my ass in trouble again. I have six more months of parole. If my parole officer catches wind that I’m flirting with trouble, he’s gonna be beating down my door.”

  “It’s one night. We won’t let it get out of control, okay? But Selena really wants to check this place out, and you’ve been working your ass off since you started at Gibson. Plus, you’re putting in two nights a week at the gym for me. You can’t work every day, Javi. You’re going to go crazy.”

  “No. Going crazy is staring at the same four concrete walls for two years, man. Believe me, working and putting in time at the gym is a blessing.”

  The monotony of punching a bag two nights a week and taking out my aggression by hammering nails into wood has actually given me some peace. For someone with a temper, I found the two most therapeutic jobs I could. I tried using sex to let off some steam too, but that unraveled very quickly. My old fling put me in a position to get my ass thrown back in jail when she told me she had a boyfriend, so I put an end to that real quick. The last thing I need is to get thrown back into the slammer because I violated my parole fighting another piece of shit.

  “Fine,” I relent. “But I’m not drinking. Where are we going anyway?”

  Andre’s smile creeps up his face as he realizes he won the argument. He’s probably itching to tell my sister right now. “The Jameson.”

  “Aw, fuck,” I mumble. “Is that the new honky tonk in Fort Worth?”

  He nods. “Yup. Get ready for some bull riding and line dancing.”

  “Fuck no. I won’t be doing that shit.”

  Andre throws his head back in laughter as he makes his way to the door. “It’ll be an experience for sure. But hey, I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow night, right?”

  “You know it. Night, man.”

  “Night, Javi.”

  I watch my friend retreat to his house as I turn back around and survey my cold, cement floors again. I’ll need to wait until next week to purchase the tile, so in the meantime I think I’ll install the new bathroom fixtures tonight that I purchased a few days ago.

  Reaching into my fridge, I retrieve a beer, taking solace in the fact that at least I can drink in the comfort of my own place without fear of doing something stupid. I pop the cap off and drain almost half of it before stripping off my shirt and making my way down the hallway to the bathroom. As I stand in front of the mirror, I take a moment to appreciate the only personal benefit that came from my time in prison besides protecting my sister’s reputation—a ripped body that I worked tirelessly on every day since I didn’t have much else to do. The new ink I got after I was released compliments my tan skin and muscles, only adding to the don’t-fuck-with-me vibe I strive for. I’m not looking for trouble, but if someone looks at me, I’m hoping they sense that I’m capable of it.

  As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I can’t help but berate the man staring back at me—a poor boy from the wrong side of town that lived up to every stereotype thrown my way—a criminal that is paying for his sins, even though the urge to protect my own is one I will never deny. I’m a Montes, a Puerto Rican-American man that was given the opportunity by my parents to live a better life than they did. And I fucked it up, even though I’m sure my father would be proud of the sacrifice I made. He always told me to protect my mom and sister, to die before I let anything happen to them. And I failed. My sister will be forever haunted by my shortcomings, so I take my punishment willingly—a life of solitude and judgment from others, knowing that given the choice, I’d make the same decision all over again.

  Chapter 3

  Sydney

  “Tessa? Can I get the files on the Young case, please?”

  The soft pad of her heels on the carpet alerts me to her making her way toward my office. “Here ya
go, boss,” she teases as she hands me a manilla folder.

  “Thank you. And I need you to return the calls from Mrs. Harrison too, please. She wants her will finalized by the end of the week. Assure her that we will have it ready for her by Friday. Make an appointment for her to come in and sign.”

  “On it. Um, I hate to tell you this,” she says, biting her thumbnail nervously, “but you have a visitor.”

  My eyes scour the mess I call a desk, my anxiety flaring knowing that I never let it get this bad but this week has been wildly busy, and now I’m going to be interrupted in my quest to get shit marked off my to-do list. “Please tell them I’m busy,” I spit out, more irritated than I intended.

  “Now, you wouldn’t turn your dad away so easily, would you?” The heavy shadow of my father rests over my desk and his voice wafts through the doorway to my office, pulling my head up to greet him.

  “Daddy! What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to take my brilliant daughter to lunch. Your mother and I miss you and she formally sends an invitation for dinner Friday evening since she’s busy at the country club today. But I had a break between cases and thought I’d use it to check up on you.” He holds out his arms to the side and ushers me toward him. “Come on. I need a hug.”

  The irritation I felt is quickly diminished as I move around my desk and lunge myself into his arms. I can’t blame him for wanting to surprise me, even though a phone call would have been a nice heads up. “I’m happy to see you, Dad. I am. But I am swamped with work right now. Can I take a rain check?”

  “Sydney Matthews, when your father stops by to spend time with you, you’d better make the effort to oblige. Tell your assistant to move some things around. I have reservations at The Florence House and we’re going to be late.”

  I sigh in defeat and then move back to my desk, arranging the stacks of papers that I’m ultimately going to have to take home with me tonight. The more of a headache this week is turning out to be, the more I’m looking forward to Saturday night. Ally confirmed she and Collin have a babysitter, so we’re counting the days until we can let loose and channel our inner cowgirls.

 

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