Justice in Love

Ch. 3 Assault and Battery

A week passed.

I hadn't heard from Reed. I figured he was busy. I was busy when I was a defense attorney. Hell, I was busy as a judge. I understood completely.

I worked a bunch of cases. They were mostly thefts and misdemeanors. There wasn't anything too exciting. Actually, going through the motions was quite boring. I spent many days trying not to fall asleep.

One day, Jen came in for lunch. "I can't believe he hasn't called."

"Me neither. We had such a nice time. The coffee, the drive, the drinks, the dancing. . . Do you think my job intimidates him? Do you think he feels like it's too big a risk to date me?"

"You didn't want to date him."

I shrugged. "Maybe I do. He's funny and attractive, and we really have a connection. . . but he hasn't called. Maybe it was all in my head."

There was a knock on my door.

Andy opened it. "Your Honor, you're needed in court. There's a case."

I looked at Jen apologetically.

"Go work your magic. I'll see you at home."

I nodded. I stood and put my robe on.

As we walked, Andy handed me a folder. A case file.

I briefly looked at it. My mind was racing. I wasn't there. My mind was thinking about Reed. Why the hell hadn't he called me?

When we got to the courtroom, Andy announced me.

I went in and sat down.

The jury came in and sat.

"How does the defendant plea?" I asked.

"Not guilty, Your Honor," a familiar voice spoke.

My head snapped up.

Reed was standing before me with a man in a grey suit. Reed wore a black suit with a white shirt and blue tie.

I looked to the prosecution. The man who tried to grab me the week before was there with a purple-yellow eye. He stood in a grey suit with another man in a matching suit. Mr. Henderson was the prosecutor. Mr. Jenson was the plaintiff.

The prosecutor did his opening arguments. "My client is an average citizen like you and me. He was going out to meet women. Alcohol sometimes makes that easier. He went to the bar and found this woman. He invited her home and her date got angry and hit my client, knocking him out cold before fleeing the scene. There's nothing just about that."

He sat.

The defense stood. "My client was on a date. He and his date were having a good time, dancing, laughing. They were at the bar when a very tipsy gentleman, the plaintiff, came over and began touching my client's date. Of course he wouldn't like that. As his date resisted, he spoke up and told the man to leave her be. The plaintiff refused. When the woman expressed pain, he defended her the best way he could, so he'd have time to get her away from him. He just wanted to protect his date. Since when is protecting a woman from being involuntarily taken from a bar a crime? It's not."

The prosecutor went up and spoke a bit. A lot, actually. He rambled on and on. It was dreadful.

It was all about me, yet I couldn't say anything. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't defend Reed. I couldn't show them the bruises on my hips. I couldn't tell them that if Reed hadn't been there, I probably would have been raped. I couldn't say anything.