Page 22 of The Heir
“Yes, your honor.” Megan sweetly chimed, “First on the docket is Blaze Aviston V Illinois. Mr. Aviston is charged with one count of battery. One count of mob action–”
“Jesus-Fucking-Christ,” Crystal quietly exhaled.
“And one count of fleeing and eluding.”
The judge slowly glanced back at Blaze, before asking, “I presume that’s you?”
I saw his shoulders move with another deep breath before he answered, “Has been for twenty-three years now.”
The judge’s eyes widened and though I couldn’t see it, I wouldn’t have been surprised if his nostrils flared for all the color that returned to his cheeks.
“Very well, step forward.”
The guards fussed with his chains and escorted Blaze to the table at the front of the room.
“Mr. Aviston, do you have representation?”
“I’m standing here, ain’t I?” Blaze quipped.
Crystal shot off the bench and slapped the courtroom door open with a crisp sound on her way out, interrupting the court yet again.
“Fucking hell,” Oak softly cursed.
“Hang in there, brother.” Easy sighed.
“Mr. Aviston, you seem compelled to exchange wit like someone half your age. Someone, who might not understand the gravity of the situation before them. I’m not sure if this is your normal mental function, or if it has something to do with the bloodshot state of your eyes? To be honest, I don’t truly care. You come waltzing into my courtroom shackled and rubbing elbows with one-percenter bikers, and now you’re performing for them at the court’s expense. Perhaps we should escort you back to your cell so you might mingle a bit more, sober a touch, and then we can try again?”
He paused and stared over the rim of his glasses, allowing the silence to grow until Blaze cleared his throat.
“I apologize, your honor. My behavior was beneath me. I’m– Weary from traveling.”
“An ounce of sense.” Oak huffed.
“Traveling from Georgia?”
Blaze nodded. “Yes Sir. I arrived yesterday.”
The judge grunted, clearly unimpressed that Blaze had landed in his courtroom so soon.
“It is the court’s understanding that you do not want a public defender or the opportunity to hire your own representation, is this how you wish to proceed?”
“I mean if you’re gonna give me a free lawyer, I’m not going to say no.” Blaze laughed.
“Mr. Aviston, this isn’t a laughing matter. Again, are you sober?”
The judge looked to the bailiff who gave a nod of confirmation.
“Mr. Aviston, why don’t you return to your cell, and we’ll have a public defender come down there…”
“I’m not going back to that cell!” Blaze blurted out.
“Excuse me?” The judge looked over his glasses again.
“Fuck my life.” Oak sank down in the pew, as much as someone his size could.
The courtroom door blew open and a woman in a powder-blue business suit and proper heels strutted toward the front.
“Your Honor, pardon my interruption. I’ve only just been hired by Mr. Aviston’s family.”