He dramatically grabs his chest, pretending to be heartbroken.
Anne asks, “What does Adam think of all this?”
“I’ve never seen him happier.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Matthew rolls his eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I push myself off the desk.
“Well, his career has flatlined. So, a kid will make him feel like his life has meaning again. It’s the only reason the human race isn’t extinct, because people with no purpose breed,” he says nonchalantly.
Anne’s mouth drops open.
I’m entirely used to Matthew’s off-the-wall opinions. I swear he says things just to get a rise out of people, but I’ve learned to never give him that rise. “What brings you to D.C.?” I ask, ignoring his previous statement.
“Six-month contract here. You’ll be seeing a lot of me.” He winks.
“Aren’t we lucky?” Anne says sarcastically. She’ll get used to him.
“Sweetheart, you are.” Matthew walks to the bookshelf and starts pulling out random volumes.
Anne tells me she’s going to make sure everything is ready for court later this morning. This high-profile case has consumed me for the past year, and I’m hoping that once it’s over, I’ll be able to focus on Adam. She leaves my office closing the door behind her.
“Finally,” Matthew says.
“Stop.” I pick up some papers from my desk and shuffle them around.
“I’m just kidding, and I’m totally busting her balls.” He takes a seat across from me at my desk.
“I know. I know exactly how you are.” I smirk.
“I always test people. If they can’t handle me at my worst, they don’t deserve me at my best,” he says raising his chin.
“But there is no best with you, Matthew.”
“That’s the secret they find out once it’s too late.” He laughs. “Now that I’m in town for a while will you have time for me?” He raises an eyebrow.
“You don’t even have to ask.”
6
Adam Morgan
Sarah is gone when I open my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I wake up feeling good—like everything is going to be okay. Sarah finally wants what I want: a family. We’re on the same page. All this time, I’ve been several chapters ahead of her, and now she’s caught up. I hope she’ll take a step back from the firm and focus on starting a family. I have a feeling what we did last night took, and in nine months we’ll be welcoming a baby Morgan to the world. This is what I was meant to be, a father.
I slide out of bed and put on a pair of boxers, balled up beside the nightstand. With a bit of pep in my step, I brush my teeth, rearrange my bedhead, and throw a couple handfuls of water in my face. Today is going to be a good day. It’s 11:30am, and I slept in a bit longer than I intended, but it doesn’t matter, because today is the first day of the rest of my life.
As I go down the stairs, it hits me like a smack in the face… Kelly. Shit, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have written that note. I should have ended it last night. I run back up the stairs to retrieve my cell phone. Just as I grab it, the doorbell rings. I quickly put on a pair of pants and a T-shirt and slip my phone into my pocket. The doorbell rings again.
“Jesus Christ. I’m coming!”
There are several loud knocks.
“Hold on!” I make my way down the hallway, down the stairs, and to the front door. I swing it open and find two men standing there in matching attire: tan Dickies uniforms, complete with utility belts and wide-brim hats. The looks on their faces are similar, stern and frustrated… or is that disgust or discontent? I can’t really tell. I rub my eyes. The one on the left, a tall white male, with a hard jaw and piercing green eyes speaks first.
“I’m Sheriff Ryan Stevens. Are you Adam Morgan?” he asks.
I nod.
The one on the right speaks next, an even taller black man with broad shoulders, and a visage that looks chiseled from stone. “I’m Deputy Marcus Hudson. We need to ask you some questions about your whereabouts yesterday evening.”
“What’s this about?” I grip the front door with one hand and exchange glances with both the sheriff and his deputy. There are two squad cars parked on the street.
“We just need you to answer a few questions for us,” Sheriff Stevens reiterates with a little more sternness and impatience.
I take a step back, still gripping the door. “Well, what’s going on?” Confusion spreads across my face as I furrow my brow. I try to remain cool, calm and collected but that’s easier said than done when I have no idea why two members of law enforcement are suddenly at my door.
“Maybe this would be easier if we did this back at the station,” Sheriff Stevens suggests to me.
“How would that be easier? What the fuck is going on? Is Sarah okay? Did something happen to her?” My first thought goes to Sarah, always. She’s a high-profile lawyer with a number of enemies due to the nature of her job. She’s had death threats in the past. She’s been harassed, and once she was physically assaulted. I know she’s been working on a big case, although I’m not sure of the details. Because I never really asked her about it. I should have.
“Mr. Morgan. Try and remain calm,” Sheriff Stevens says.
“Fuck this. I’m calling my wife.” I pull my phone from my pocket and try to throw the door closed. Sheriff Stevens stops it with his foot, and he and Deputy Hudson push inside.
“Get the hell out of my house!”
The two men in uniform charge forward and grab me. They throw both my arms behind my back. My cell phone drops to the floor just before I complete my call. I struggle. I know whenever you see people struggling against the cops, you always think as a spectator, What an idiot. Don’t fight the police. You’ll never win that battle. But when you find yourself in that situation, when you have no idea what’s going on, whether the ones you love are okay, or why this is happening… You fight like hell.
I throw Sheriff Stevens to the ground and get my arm free. The sheriff mumbles something like “You dick” under his breath and stands back up, charging at me. Deputy Hudson still has one of my hands behind my back.
“All right, I’ve had enough of this bullshit.” Deputy Hudson brings his knee into my face. I drop instantly to the ground. Blood sprays from my nose into a puddle beneath me on the floor. Deputy Hudson drives his knee into my back, while the sheriff handcuffs me.
“You just had to do that, didn’t you?” Sheriff Stevens says with a chuckle and a look of disappointment.
“I miss getting a little dirty,” Deputy Hudson says with a grin, I assume, as I can’t see his face.
Deputy Hudson stands up, brushing himself off. They pull me to my knees. “Are you ready to come down to the station now, you piece of shit?”
I spit blood at his feet. “Fuck you… you’re gonna regret that.” I glare at him.
“I doubt that,” he says. “Now, you have the right to remain silent…”
Two hours later I find myself alone in a small interrogation room with a stale cup of coffee on the table in front of me. A large one-way mirror is on the wall to my left. I drop my head into my hands. My foot taps the floor with fervor as my patience has worn thin.