by Amber Burns
I sigh, “Alright, but I have to warn you I’m a wounded vet and will require assistance getting up.”
“I said get on the ground,” was barked back at me and, with an effort, I refrain from rolling my eyes.
Getting on the ground isn’t easy. It’s late and it’s been a long day so the knee of my left leg decides not to cooperate. I end up flopping forward into the grass and groaning when things get aggravated. I put my hands back on my head and just wait.
I hear the doors to the trailer thrown open followed immediately by yelling and cussing, I look up to see if Jimmy is forced out but so far I only see the lit doorway. A shot is fired, though I can only hope the kid isn’t that stupid. There’s sounds of a struggle, but soon it ends and I see Jimmy being walked out in cuffs. As well as Anthony and another guy that I can only assume is Greg. Jimmy’s eyes connected with mine and he bared his teeth at me, “Did you fucking rat on us, Redding? Did you call the fucking cops?”
“Nope,” I holler from the ground. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be laying my ass on the ground getting arrested, too, Dipshit.”
My side is nudged and I don’t bother to look to see who did it. I just watch as the struggle to get the other three men into the back of their vehicles. A knee is pressed into my back and I grunt, pain suddenly intensified and I grit my teeth as the guy on me brought my hands down to be cuffed.
“Cooperating, no need to get rough,” I wince.
“Okay, bud, time to get up,” the officer that cuffed me said without commenting on my complaint. His hands come up under my arms and with little effort on his part I’m tugged to my feet. On my part, however, the move is excruciating.
“I’m going to need my pills,” I gritted out between clenched teeth.
“That what you were coming up here for, junkie?” he actually chuckled at me. “You’re going to have to wait to get your next fix there, man.”
“Wounded vet,” I said again as I’m shoved towards a car. My limp became more pronounced as my left leg gets stiffer. “You keep this rough treatment, man, and you’re gonna have me an incoherent mess.”
I get the Miranda act read to me as they force me into the car, my left knee bent under the force of the hand on my shoulder. I couldn’t help but cry out in pain as the act of bending shot through my nerves. Yea, I’m looking at a night of being an incoherent mess of pain for the rest of the night. I have one fleeting though before the throbbing starts to take over.
Did I get fucked over out here?
17
When the cops did a search on me they found my earlier warnings were true and then managed to fish out my identification. I had started sweating in the cop car and at first the guy thought I was overdosing or something. I managed to hike up my jeans leg enough to give him a glimpse of the mangled burnt skin. Normally, I didn’t try to play the sympathy card. But I was fucking hurting and I needed some relief. If they let me cook in a holding cell the pain would only escalate and soon I would be hugging the metal shitter and throwing up all that I’d eaten that day. It’s not a pretty sight when the pain gets too much. I hoped they didn’t let it get to the level where it was too much.
“Make your call to someone that can get your medication,” the officer that was checking me in commanded. “Get your shit here because if you puke up my holding cell you will be the one cleaning it up.”
I grunt in acknowledgement and pick up the phone that’s offered to me. I punch in Teddy’s number, because his was the first that comes to mind. I don’t remember anyone else’s and he’s picked me up on more than one occasion. It was after midnight and I honestly didn’t care if I woke him up. The phone rang and rang, fortunately, on the fifth ring he finally answered.
“What?” it was croaked into my ear.
“I was arrested, I don’t know Wilson’s number. I need my drugs,” I knew I didn’t need to say who it was. Granted, he probably didn’t expect a call from me.
“Why were you arrested?” He sounded confused and his voice was muffled for a second. I heard movement suggesting he was getting out of bed, “The fuck did you do?”
“Followed Jimmy,” I growled at him. “Bring me my fucking pills and see how long I’ve got to sit in a cell for this shit.”
I didn’t give him the chance to question me longer, I hung up the phone and let my temper stew. I limped to a cell, getting one to myself with a guard to watch me. I think maybe they thought I might keel over and after all the flak that law enforcement has gotten recently having a vet die in holding is bad press they’d like to avoid. Maybe they’re assumed I’m decorated.
The holding cell was just a cement box with bars closing off one end. There’s a cement bench with a thin pad on it, I guess that’s as good as I get for a bed. I hobbled to it and sat with my back to the wall and my left leg stretched out. I didn’t get any relief, since I was stuck waiting for Teddy. I tred to focus on breathing, I tried to massage my leg through my jeans, I tried every single pain management technique the cute physical therapist tried to teach me as a means to get through the pain without pills. I lose grasp on time when I do this, it feels like hours have gone by when it really could have been minutes before a cop came in with my medicine bag.
He and my guard went through it carefully, studying the contents of each bottle to make sure each was prescribed by a doctor. All my medications were VA approved and I struggled to stand as I watched them. I needed my nerve pill and my anti inflammatory pronto. I doubt they’d be nice enough to give me a Vallum to get me through the night. I stumbled and nearly fell, which under any other circumstances would have been embarrassing, now it would have been inconvenient in the fact that I wouldn’t have been able to get back up on my own. I got to the bars and I waited anxiously for them to offer me something. I found myself leaning against the bars because the longer I’m left standing the shakier my stance gets.
“Which do you need right now?” the officer that has my bag eyes me. I guess it was apparent how bad off I was.
“Nerve pill and anti inflammatory,” I rubbed at my face, trying to get some clarity. “If you’re cool the Vallum will take the edge off.”
“There’s so many pills in here, man,” they took the time to feed me the ones I asked for. “Why the hell are you on so many? You’re only thirty it’s kind of messed up to be on this many.”
I swallowed the pills dry, choking on the nerve pill. I didn’t care. It meant I would get relief soon. I had a paper cup filled with water offered to me and I downed it in a single gulp.
“Caravan found an IED,” I explained. “Assholes like to bury bombs in roads that we frequent.”
“You got all your limbs though,” the officer holding my bag argued. “I’ve seen some guys come home less an arm and a leg after that.”
“My truck was on the far side of the blast,” I patted my left leg. “Far enough away to offer me some protection, but I still got burnt up when the engine of the truck went. The doctor wanted to take this leg, cut me off below the knee. But it wouldn’t have helped the sciatic nerve pain I would have to live with so I declined on the option to be a pirate,” I pressed my forehead against the cold bar. “How long am I stuck here?”
“For the night at least,” the guard said. “You have to wait until eight tomorrow morning for the judge to get in and set bail.”
“Fuck me,” I sighed and turned to go back what would be my bunk.
“Can I ask with all the good shit you got here why you would be going to a trailer for more drugs?”
If I was smart I would’ve said I wasn’t talking without a lawyer. But, I got here, so obviously I’m not that smart. “Wasn’t there for drugs, had no clue what was going on in the trailer,” I sat down heavily. “I was following my friend there to see what kind of dumb shit he got into.”
“So, you’re telling us you just got dragged into the dumb shit, too?” my guard asked.
“Yep,” I settled in, going back to the drug free pain management methods that didn’t work. “Would be
glad to offer to do a drug test, you’ll see everything I’m on is in the bag.”
“I saw the dash cam footage,” the officer with my bag said to the guard. “Dude just stood there and waited when he saw the cars come flying in. Didn’t try resist or run. That shit hardly happens with people whether they're innocent or guilty.”
“Aside from the fact that it’s dumb as shit to run,” I offer up. “I can’t run for shit.”
“Man, you can barely walk right now,” he holds up the bag. “We’re going to through these and get your next around ready. Try to sleep.”
Easier said than done.
18
Sleep was fleeting and when the Vallum kicked in I stopped caring about the pain and my situation so I managed a light doze. I, maybe, got four hours. The problem with pain is it fucks up my grasp of time. They got me up, gave me my pills. I declined another Vallum even though I already had the aches. I wanted to be sober for what was going on. I waited for my turn in the arraignment line, for a chance to see the judge and to find out what exactly I was being charged with and what my bail would be. I realized I’d probably end up stuck here and the realization made my stomach turn.
I could’ve called my parents, they live a few hours away and probably would have booked it here to make my bail and see to it that I got a decent defense lawyer. But that would come at a consequence. My mother had been dying for me to come back home, wanting to take care of me like I’m an invalid. I’ve had my freedom since I went to bootcamp, I use the word free loosely because really I just took it from my parents and sold it to the government. I didn’t really become free until after I was discharged.
But here I was in cuffs with ankle bracelets to match. A guard stood next to me to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid or to keep me upright, I couldn’t tell.
“I’ve never been arrested before,” I say to him. “How long does this shit usually take?”
“Judge is usually quick, they try to process people as quick as they can so those that can afford to make bail, do. Do you have an attorney?” He eyed me curiously, seeing my patched cut and combat boots.
“I spent about nine years in the Army,” I say with a shrug. “Fuck no, I don’t have money.”
He snorted then tried to choke back his amusement.
“Don’t do illegal stuff. Plus, cut the cussing. Judge Fredericks is not a fan of it and will probably add to your bail because of it. He considers it a sign of bad character.”
“Fantastic,” I sigh. “Telling me not to cuss is like tell me to stop breathing.” I got another laugh from him and I could tell, had the situation been different, he was probably likeable. “You gotta motorcycle?”
“My wife would kill me,” he paused and eyed my cut. “Your club push drugs?”
I knew this was fishing and I shrug my shoulders, “The club I’m in caters to vets and retirees. People that ride in the Veteran’s parades and shit like that. We don’t deal with drugs, you should see the bag I gotta carry around full of prescribed drugs; almost as big as a woman’s purse.” I shrug, the chains that connected my wrists to my ankles shaking, “The Boneyard Brotherhood is kind of like a support group with motorcycles.”
He nodded and we shifted as the line moved along. He offered me decent banter that seemed to make the wait move along at a quicker pace. I was good as long as I didn’t have to dwell on what happened after this. Because nothing good ever came from being arrested, even if you were innocent.
When I stood in front of the judge I listened to the charges with growing dread, I know Jimmy and his friends were either in front of me or behind me in the line for this. I hadn’t bothered to look for any of them, I was more worried about myself than them.
“Felony manufacturing charges with the intent to sell,” one lawyer said simply, she was blonde woman with hair that touches her shoulders and a dark pant suit on.
“How do you plea?” The judge asked without looking up at me.
“Not guilty,” was my answer, because of course I’m not guilty.
The judge looks up at me with a critical eye, “Says here you are a service man? A wounded veteran?”
“Yessir,” I met his gaze without any sort of hesitation. I know I’m innocent, “Served two tours in Iraq and the last one ended my career with the Army.”
“I would like to know the outcome of the trial that comes after this,” he taps the gavel. “Bail set for two thousand.”
I grimace and am moved along the line. My bail was set, but I was sure that I would probably be stuck because I sure as shit didn’t have the money. I was taken back to the cell that I had spent the night in and I expected to sit there until my trial date.
I tried to not think about what would happen from here. But it’s was near lunch and I can only imagine that with her work Madison’s found out by now. I rubbed at my face as I tried figure out her reaction to it. I was hard to guess. I wouldn’t know until I talked to her and the not knowing just tore me up. I spent the remainder of my day letting the worry eat me. At six a guard came to get me.
“Somebody made bail,” he said simply and walked me to collect my shit. The progress was slow going even though the only ‘weapon’ I had on me was a small pocket knife.
I walked out of the holding part of the jail. To my surprise I found Teddy and Wilson waiting on me, both dressed in suits and looking less dirty biker and more like prepared adults. I stood just outside the door that had released me from jail just standing there staring at them.
“Who the fuck are you guys?”
“Funny,” Wilson growled at me as he adjusted his suit coat, it looked a little tight on him and didn’t really make him look like a business man. He looked like an adult that might have his shit together, might being the keyword. “C’mon let's get out of here so we can talk business.”
“I don’t want to ride bitch,” I complained and I heard chuckles from behind me. I imagined that Jimmy probably didn’t have the same experience I did. And I eyed them both as I followed them out of the jailhouse. “Where’s Jimmy?”
“Jimmy bailed himself out,” Teddy said without venom. “If he knows what’s good for him, and he’s smart, he’ll stay away from the bar for a while.”
They led me to a car, which surprised the shit out of me. It was a late model town car.
“Whose car is this?” I realized both of them were older, but I didn’t expect them to drive around grandpa cars.
“You call me old, you bastard,” Wilson snarled at me. “And I will bust your ass so hard you won’t know what hit you!”
He closed the distance like he was going to do just that. I raised my hands up like I was under arrest again and seemed to placate him enough. We loaded up and I waited until they were both settled before I let my anger get the best of me.
“So, which one of you assholes decided to set me up?”
“Neither of us,” Teddy said as he glanced over a shoulder at me. “It doesn’t benefit the club at all to set up one of its members.”
“Really? Because the night I go to follow Jimmy out to do his meth pick up there’s a shit ton of cops that roll in,” I didn’t keep the sarcasm from my tone. “This is after you,” I gestured towards Wilson. “Arrange it so I can follow him. Tell me how that doesn’t sound fucked up?”
“I’ll give that to ya,” Wilson said lightly. “I set up a cheap car without a plate so in the event something went down it wouldn’t be traced back to the club more than it already would be considering two members were caught in a meth lab.” He grumbled and looked to Teddy, “The kid is going to have to be out and we will be shutting down all illegal activity for the next six months. Shit’ll be tight.” Teddy nodded, listening intently. “We’ll have to pool our funds to make sure this jackass doesn’t get pinned with something he wasn’t involved in.”
“Done,” Teddy answered without hesitation. “I’ll get on the phone with the attorneys in town and see if I can’t find one that’ll cut us a deal.”
I listened
to them talk, leaning back against the seat and letting the weariness and lack of sleep catch up with me. My phone was clutched in my hand, they must have turned it off after they searched through it for any sort of pertinent information for the case they were going to build against me. I’m sure my terrible attempts at sexting were looked through with amusement.
I knew that the slim black device held nothing but bad news for me. Did Madi know? Her reaction was something I wasn’t sure I wanted to see. She didn’t strike me as the type to get violently angry, she seemed meek at most points and while I didn’t want to take advantage of that I was worried how she would take this. I knew she would probably feel betrayed after the way I talked up the club and swore there was nothing illegal that we did. I swallowed and decided the best route was to take it like a man. I ripped the fucking bandaid off and turned my phone on. After a slow boot up I was notified that I had six text messages and a voice mail. I started with the text messages, figuring they would be the easiest to handle.