Page 59 of The Heir
The last thing I needed was those assholes back there learning that my mother had a badge. When the screen flipped on however, I was confronted with a very solemn-looking Donovan Winehopper.
He cleared his throat and grabbed the phone when he noticed the screen was on. I sat down and did the same.
“Mr. Winehopper.” I didn’t really know what to say.
“Blaze, how are you holding up inside there, young man?” The man effortlessly sounded like a preacher.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“As well as can be expected, I suppose, sir.”
“Marchella isn’t doing so good,” he quietly admitted, “She has a great care for you, Blaze. I think– I think the girl might be in love with you.”
My chest tightened and I stared at the screen.
“She’s a girl that doesn't go around giving her heart so easily, you know.” He quietly went on.
“Yes, sir,” I pressed past the lump in my throat.
I knew she felt for me, I knew it terrified her, and just look at the mess I’d made of it.
“I wish I could go back in time–”
“Lord, don’t we all…” Donovan quietly mused.
“This is the third arrest for me in one week.”
“Have you ever been arrested before?”
“No, sir!” I blurted out, laughter clinging to my words. “I’ve had one speeding ticket in my life. I was seventeen and I didn’t think Oak and my mom would ever let me drive the family car again.”
He gave a quiet chuckle and nodded.
“Oakland O’Brian is good people.” He mumbled, before adding. “His mother was a good, God-fearing southern woman.”
“I don’t really remember her, but I’m sure you’re right.”
“Blaze, you know in Illinois we have a thing called a habitual criminal.” Donovan spoke up a bit.
I gave a slow shake of my head, having never heard of such a thing before.
“A habitual criminal is someone who breaks the law repeatedly, without regard for society's rules. When they present in thecriminal courts, the judge has the option of doubling their sentence.”
“Wh–?” I rubbed my face and swallowed a few curses. “Who decides if a person is a habitual criminal?”
“The courts, the prosecutor…” Donovan shrugged.
I made a strangled sound, unable to form anything near intelligent conversation as I processed this.
“Blaze, what were your plans? If none of these arrests had happened, what was your business and plan here in Illinois?” Donovan asked.
I raised my shoulder and flopped back in the chair, “I just came to pick up my dad’s bike. I was here an hour or few and all hell broke loose.”
Donovan nodded.
“So, you meant to pick up your father’s motorcycle and return to Georgia with your family? That was the plan when you left your Georgia home?”
I bobbed my head, “Yeah–”