Not On My Time

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"Fucking A, tell me that just didn't happen". I growled to Monica, my assistant.

"I'm sorry Miss Martin. I wish I could, it's just life isn't fair sometimes. Jones shouldn't have walked away a free man. You did your best".

"Yes, I did Monica. I brought up every past charge, past mistake, witnesses. They should have thrown the book at him. Now I fear for his next victim... and there will be one".

"Please, Miss Martin, allow me to get you a coffee" Monica offered trying to make me feel better.

I nodded yes and gave a loud sigh. Leaning back in my plush leather chair, I closed my eye's and rubbed my temple's. I envisioned today's court proceedings with nausea. How could any decent human being vote to allow this man on our streets, especially after seeing the photo's of Mrs. Rodriguez' s body. So beaten and bruised. A child left without a mother, a parent without a child. I did everything to prove Jone's guilt but in the end the bastard got off the hook.

As soon as they announced the verdict as innocent my insides coiled up and anger begged to be released. I looked at Rodriguez's mother weeping and felt like a failure. I swore to that woman I would see to it that Jone's was put away. Now he's free to go, free to harm some other unsuspecting person. Then the vile look he shot my way before he left a free man. At first he sent a winning smile my way then the smile filtered away as a threatening look marred his features. I think he meant it as a warning but he doesn't scare me. I shot my own eat shit look back, grabbed my briefcase and sauntered from the courtroom.

Only in the comfort of my small yet comfy office did I let my rantings out on Monica. I really don't see how the middle age lady puts up with my tantrums. The only plausible answer is she has to be an angel. If I ever ran into me, I'd punch my lights out. I have the tendency to be overbearing, controlling, short tempered and manipulative. All the makings of a good lawyer.

It wasn't just my work ethic that ran Bryce off it was my ballsy attitude as well. He wasn't a strong enough man to handle my outbursts or put me in my place. Instead, he would coweer to the bedroom and lock himself away. Never could face our problems head on nor make any decisions. Looks like I'll be alone the rest of my life. I don't think a man exists that can match my personality, fight me back, show me who the boss really is. Is it to much to ask for a man that knows how to take charge? Not that I like to argue, but my job is very demanding. I have to be a ball buster while at work and that sometimes follows me home. If I'm wildin out I need a man that can step up, tell me to shut up, calm me down. Also his game in the bedroom needs to be as strong and passionate as mine. Bryce just didn't do any of this for me. I guess him walking away was for the best but it still didn't stop the hurt or the fact that I loved his weak ass.

Monica busted my thoughts up by placing my coffee in front of me. "Here you go Miss Martin".

I nodded my head. "Only two sugars, correct?"

"Yes, as always Miss Martin".

"Thank you Monica. Now could you gather up all the Rodriguez files. There's got to be a loop hole somewhere. Also, could you bring me a list of all the top drug dealer's, criminals and such. Please include a photo as well."

"Yes Miss Martin. Right away".

I dismissed Monica with a nod and clicked my laptop on. My plan was to keep am eye on this Jone's character and catch him in the act of illegal activities. With stone hard proof he wouldn't get away with the next crime. I've been so wrapped up in this case I haven't gave much thought to the prick who shot the club up New Year's night and bullied me. Now though, I have time to focus on busting this asshole.

Thankfully my office building had a cafeteria so I ordered some food to be brought up. I was in no mood to go down and eat especially after losing in court today. No sooner than I had finished my sandwhich and swiped the crumbs from my desk, Monica entered with the paper's I had asked for. "Everything's there Miss Martin. If it's alright with you, I'd like to take my lunch now".

"Sure, go ahead. Thanks". I said already focusing on the document's.

I had enough of Jones for the day, so I began my search through the mile high stack of rich criminals. It was a quarter after five and I had knocked alittle over  half of the stack down. My eye's were burning and my tummy was grumbling. I was thinking about calling it a day but decided to do just one more file. "Harper". I repeated out loud.

Cracking the folder open I skimmed the details. Known as a possible mafia family yet no proof or evidence can be found. Anyone who tries to convict them goes missing or renigs on their story. Last person to try and convict them was Jax Owen's, a NYC police chief. Hasn't been seen in two year's. Disappeared without a trace.

Hmmm.... I thought. Yes, I remember that. I hadn't lived here long when the news was covered with Jax's face. Missing without a trace, no clues at all. The first photo I came across was London Harper. A very good-looking gent if I do say so myself. Believed to be retired but was the boss as these thugs call themselves. Flipping to the next file I saw a very beautiful lady. Reading on, I discovered that she was Laney Louise Valor Harper. Married to London and owner of Clancey Resort's. That's very interesting and something to check into. Could be a cover up for dirty dealings. Flipping the page yet again was another beautiful girl. Appeared to be around my age. Mirimosa Harper. Married to Cole Butoni. No occupation but did list her as a mother. I quickly tapped in Cole Butoni on my computer and excitement filled me as I saw Mr. Green Eye's. I've got the bastards now.

Flipping to the next page, I came face to face with those deep, dark eye's again. "Demarco Harper". I said slowly letting it roll off my tounge.  "Your ass is mine buddy". I said to his photo.

I scanned his file. Believed to be the New boss. Was married to Samantha Harper who is now deceased. Cause of death, bullet to the left side of the head.

Shutting the folder, I stuffed it inside my bag for later reading. I had him now, that's what mattered. Remembering he still had my phone, I picked up my new one and sent a text to my stolen phone in hope's he'd receive it.

"Hi! Remember me? Guess not, I mean you do this all the time right? Sadly, you picked the wrong one to piss off this time, Demarco Harper. I'll be seeing you, you little bitch boy".

Satisfied, I hit send. Loading my stuff up, I made my way home in a better mood. Yes, in time I would have Jone's  cornored and see to it this Harper Empire bullshit is brought down. It's hard being a boss bitch.

BY DEMARCO'S STANDARDS (Part 5)Where stories live. Discover now