Dark Sexy Knight - Katy Regnery Page 0,91
“Especially because Mr. Lane has a dependent. A Miss Melody Spindler.”
The judge looked hesitant for a moment. “Miss Spindler is . . .”
“Mr. Lane’s cousin, Your Honor. She has Down syndrome and lives in a group home called, uh—” He looked down at the table, shuffling some paper. “Uh, yes. Bonnie’s Place. Northeast of the city. Mr. Lane is her guardian.”
Colt took a deep breath and held it as his stomach flipped over. He’d been so close to walking away from all of this, and now . . . No. No. Please, no.
“I know of Bonnie’s Place.” She looked at Colt, her eyebrows furrowed, her face more conflicted than it had been a few minutes ago.
“The state is concerned about Mr. Lane’s temper,” the prosecutor continued. “As the sole guardian of a developmentally disabled family member, we feel that some intervention may be prudent at this time, in light of Mr. Lane’s actions toward Mr. Kingston.”
“I see. What is your recommendation?”
“For the safety of Miss Spindler, we believe that Mr. Lane should undergo ninety days of mandatory anger management therapy in an approved residential treatment center, with the revocation of his guardian status over his cousin, Melody Spindler, during that time. Mr. Lane’s guardianship of said dependent will be reinstated only after successful completion of a court-approved program.”
No! You can’t take Mel away from me!
The judge made some notes on the papers, nodding her head, before looking up at Colt. “Mr. Lane, please rise.”
Colt stood up, his legs wobbly as he began to understand what was happening. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. They were going to take Mel away from him. Aunt Jane’s face flashed in his mind and he winced with shame and fury.
“You are the guardian of your cousin?”
He gulped. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And how long have you maintained this guardianship?”
“Six years, ma’am. Since the death of my aunt Jane, Melody’s mother.”
“I see.” She gave Colt a rueful smile. “No small feat to care for a special-needs person.”
“I’m her only family. Caring for Mel is my responsibility, Your Honor.”
“And yet you’ve gotten yourself into quite a mess with your fists, Mr. Lane.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You appeared in this courtroom once before.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But you were acquitted because your actions were in defense of your cousin.”
“Yes, ma’am. I would never, ever hurt Mel.”
“I don’t think you can make that promise, Mr. Lane. You may have been acquitted, but we both know you used too much force in that scenario, as you did on Monday afternoon, with Mr. Kingston. It concerns me that this behavior of yours spans a decade, and surely there have been other, undocumented incidents.”
Colt flashed back to the motel parking lot, then dropped the judge’s eyes, looking down at the table, hating her, hating himself much more because she was right.
Judge Stanton’s voice was compassionate when she spoke again. “To be fair, from what I can gather, Mr. Kingston was trouble. He was harassing Mr. Gwynn regularly. The videotape supplied by Mr. Gwynn’s coworker, Mr. Sterns, verifies the harassment.”
Colt looked up at her again, a spark of hope helping him meet her eyes. Please don’t take Mel away. Please.
“But you clearly have an anger problem, Mr. Lane. A rage problem, even. Pulling Mr. Kingston away from Miss Gwynn and calling the police would have been sufficient. Breaking his arm, nose, and—” She paused, shaking her head and sighing. “—three ribs, is excessive.”
“Ma’am,” he started, “please don’t do this. My cousin won’t understand why I’m not—”
“Please don’t speak unless spoken to, Mr. Lane. I’m sorry, but I agree with Mr. DeWalt. You would benefit from anger management therapy. That said, you’ve willingly cared for your cousin for six years without incident, which I choose to regard as a mark of good character. I think ninety days is excessive. I think sixty days in a court-approved, residential program would be sufficient. The guardianship of your cousin will be transferred to the state for a term of sixty days. Pending the completion of your program, your guardianship of Melody Spindler will be reinstated.”
“Please, ma’am, I’m begging y—”
“I’ve made my decision, Mr. Lane,” she said, raising the gavel and letting it fall. “Court dismissed.”
Colt clenched his eyes shut, his fingers curling into fists under the table as Leslie Belden whispered, “Charges dropped. A little therapy stint. Lucky you,” near his ear.
Lucky me? Are you fucking crazy, lady? Lucky me?
He had no idea what would become of Melody during his “treatment.” Would she have a social worker? Would that person be male or female? Would he or she