“I have a lawyer?”
Hot lawyer rolls his eyes. “I’m Brody.” When I don’t reply, he says, “Brody Wallace.”
Still doesn’t help me. “Am I supposed to know that name?”
“Ouch,” he says. “I’ll be having words with Reed about that.”
“R-reed?”
“Come talk to him yourself. He’s in the waiting area with Davis and his mother.”
My feet can’t move fast enough. I’m led through halls and a key-coded door, am given my belongings, and told to sign some papers, but when I find Reed, cement enters my shoes and I slow down. I want to ask why he’s still here, and why the Sullivans are here, but I don’t. I can’t make my mouth move no matter how hard I try.
It takes forever for me to reach them even though they’re only a few feet away.
“I suggest we don’t have a discussion about this in a police station,” Brody says. He takes us through the front doors and into the parking lot. The night is sticky with Queensland humidity, and sweat drips down my back while the air tries to stifle me. Or maybe it’s the close call with losing my future that’s affecting me.
“What the hell happened while I was in there?” I ask.
“Well,” Brody says, “Dipshit number one over here”—he points to Reed—“wrote an affidavit swearing he saw Mr. Sullivan swing first.”
My brow furrows. “But—”
“And then dipshit number two over there”—he points to Davis—“corroborated Reed’s story. Apparently, he was in a position where he could see through the bamboo curtains. They lied to protect you.” He lowers his voice and mumbles, “For some reason.”
“Guys … I …” I have no idea what to say to that.
Davis approaches me and wraps his arms around my waist. I stand awkwardly for a split second before returning the hug. “Thank you. For protecting me.”
This is why I do what I do. For moments like this. I don’t need a thanks, but the fact he’s giving it willingly—that he knows I’ll have his back if he ever needs me—it makes all this bullshit worth it.
“This is the second time you’ve been there for my son. I can’t … there are no words,” Mrs. Sullivan says.
“We’d do the same for any student,” I say.
She gives us a warm smile. “Come on, Davis, let’s get you home and give your teachers a chance to talk. And we can discuss punishment for lying to the police.”
Davis groans, but as they walk off, his mother turns and winks at us. I don’t think she’s really mad at him for saving me, but she probably can’t let him get away with no consequences at all.
“I’m heading off too,” my lawyer says and turns to me. “I’ll send you the bill, right?”
“Uh, umm …” If I thought my heart started beating harder the second I laid eyes on Reed, I was mistaken. It’s palpitating now.
“You ass,” Reed says to Brody. “He’s not charging us. I already made sure of that.”
Us. I like the sound of that.
“Ugh, there you go talking in we and us again,” Brody says. “I’m out.”
“Hey!” my brother yells from the other end of the parking lot. “What the hell is going on?”
“On second thought,” Brody says, eyeing Anders up and down. “I think I might stay right here.” He continues to watch my brother as he makes his way over to us.
I don’t know what to think about that. Anders looks exactly like me, but Brody seems … indifferent to me. I lean in and mutter to Reed, “Who is this guy?”
“My only friend in this city. He’s also kinda my ex, but not, and he’s the only person I have right now.”
Explains the indifference but also makes my guilt ten times worse. “Reed, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t. You don’t need to apologise. I—”
“Seriously, bro,” Anders says as he finally reaches us. “You were arrested?”
“It’s all fixed now,” Brody says. “I’m his lawyer, Brody Wallace.” He holds out his hand, and Anders hesitates before shaking it.
Shit, Anders might be on the edge of running away from Brody. There’s interest flared in his eyes, but Brody’s all wrong. He’s tall, built, a pretty boy still, but not eighteen, and definitely not boyish in the physique department. Anders’ kryptonite.
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Anders asks.
“Sure, I’ll fill you in,” Brody says. “I think Law and Reed have some things to discuss. There’s a café up here. Want coffee?”
Anders’ eyes almost bug out of his head.
“It’s okay,” Reed says to my brother. “I can vouch for Brody.”
Anders flicks his gaze from me to Reed to Brody and then back to Reed. With another encouraging nod from Reed, Anders gestures for Brody to lead the way.
“I don’t know whether to be proud of him or scared for him right now,” I say as they disappear up the street.
“Brody’s a good guy. At least, he was five years ago when I knew him.”