Unstoppable (10 page)

“Fuck you, that’s kidnapping,” he responded.

Well, maybe this isn’t his first time doing this.

“That’s your only option. You want the car, take it. Keys are in it,” I lied.

I figured I would make him walk past me to get in the car, and some way or another, he would get close enough to allow me to beat on him. If not, when he got into the car, I’d beat him through the window as he attempted to start the car without the keys. I maintained eye contact with him as I watched his every movement.

Nervously, he glanced around the empty lot again. As he looked to his left, he became startled, and turned his body to face the street, now turned away from me at an oblique angle. That’s all I needed, a split second with him facing away from me.

Quickly, I stepped left foot first, toward where he stood. As soon as I followed with my right foot, I swung a right hook with everything I owned, aimed for the side of his head, his temple to be specific. In what seemed as a slow motion scene from a movie, several things came into play.

His body continued to rotate to his right quickly, as if he were going to run away. Naturally, I tucked my chin as I threw the punch, and did not look straight ahead. Had I, I would have noticed what later became apparent that
he
had noticed out of the corner of his eye.

My fist slammed against his right ear, immediately dropping him where he stood. Before he hit the pavement, and immediately upon my fist contacting his head, he instinctively pulled the trigger on the pistol.

The sound echoed throughout the empty lot. And it was then I looked up and made note of what had startled him.

The police car as it pulled into the restaurant entrance.

And the other one as it pulled in behind the first.

And the two other police cars that parked in the street and blocked traffic.

“Drop the weapon,” an officer screamed from the corner of the building.

“He did,” I screamed as I looked down at the pistol that lay a few feet from his body.

“Drop the weapon,” the officer screamed again.

Holy shit, this dude thinks I’m the thief.

“Look, this guy was robbing
me
, trying to steal my car,” I screamed as I pointed down at the worthless heap lying on the asphalt.

“Sir! Place your hands behind your head, interlock your fingers, and turn to face the car! After you lock your hands behind your head, take two steps back,” the officer demanded, his pistol pointing at me as he shouted commands.

Liv got out of the car and ran toward the officers screaming the entire way. What she was screaming made minimal sense to me, so I’m sure the officers understood nothing. Slowly, I raised my hands over my head, interlocked my fingers, and started to turn around. As I rotated, the ass hat car thief began to move around. Looking down at him and looking back up at the officers made all of their screaming at
me
make sense. From their location, they were incapable of seeing him, as there was decorative shrubbery between him and them. The fact he was lying flat on the asphalt made their seeing him impossible. As he began to groan, I raised my foot from the pavement and kicked him in the head as hard as I could.

“What the fuck? Kleitz, there’s another one here on the ground. Big boy here just kicked him. Keep your goddamned hands where we can see them,” the officer screamed.

“They’re behind my head, just like you said,” I responded as I rolled my eyes.

Police officers in Texas will shoot first, and ask questions later. The entire state, citizens included, is a gun friendly, gun happy, and gun toting society. I don’t have a tremendous affection for police officers, and I’m sure I never will. As the officer placed his hand cuffs on my right wrist, he yelled at one of the other officers.

“He’s too god damned big, Kleitz. I need another pair of cuffs. I can’t get him cuffed with one pair,” the officer screamed.

As the second officer approached, he screamed, “Parker! Weapon at your feet!”

I have no idea why he felt the need to announce it, screaming and making all of the other officers nervous, who were now climbing over the bushes, coming through the parking lot, and walking in from the street. As he screamed, they uniformly pulled their weapons.

What ended up being a huge misunderstanding of a clusterfuck began to come to an end as Liv and officer whistle-dick began walking toward where we were. As an officer was handcuffing the
real
thief, Liv walked our direction, now capable of speaking slowly and legibly.

“Kleitz, Parker, listen up,” whistle-dick said as he walked closer to where we stood.

“The big guy without a shirt. He’s the victim. The fella on the ground, he’s who we want. He was trying to jack the Chevy,” he said as Liv stood at his side pointing toward the thief.

The officer helped the thief to his feet. He stood beside me, rubber legged and handcuffed, still somewhat uncertain of what had actually happened. As he moaned and wiggled his jaw, the officer began to explain his Miranda rights.

“You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. In the event…”

“But big boy here assaulted the fella on the ground. Kicked him in the face as I was walking up,” The officer unsuccessfully in charge of handcuffing me announced as he pointed back and forth between ass hat and I.

“Seriously?” I asked, one handcuff still dangling from my right wrist.

“Quiet,” he demanded.

“He was trying to jack my fucking car. He had a gun. I was unarmed,” I explained as I nodded my head toward the thief standing beside me in handcuffs.

“I said quiet,” he repeated, “he was unconscious and unarmed when you kicked him. As a matter of law, that is assault. Right Stone?”

“Well, I suppose it is, Parker. But we don’t necessarily need to write that in the report, now do we?” the officer standing with Liv responded.

“Yeah
Parker
,” I sighed.

“I said be quiet. I’ll cite you for resisting arrest,” Parker snapped.

“I didn’t do anything. What the
fuck
. I hate fucking cops,” I growled.

This was really starting to piss me off. I had to stand here beside the guy who tried to steal my car like
I
was a criminal. The emotion of this fucktard trying to steal my car, devising a way in my mind to overpower him, the arrival of the cops, and me smacking his stupid ass was a little more emotion than I had hoped for – especially as I was getting ready to pump Liv full of my cum.

“Oh, you hate cops, huh? Well,
we
saved your ass,” Parker announced.

“No, I knocked that piece of shit out before you arrived,” I bragged.

“I said quiet,” Parker bellowed.

“Stone?” Parker whined.

The officer standing with Liv looked up from his note pad, blinked a few times, and walked closer to where we stood.

“Do I know you?” he asked as he approached.

I shook my head slowly, “I’m afraid not, officer.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Quite. Never been arrested. Not that I shouldn’t have been, but it’s never happened,” I smiled.

“I know you from somewhere,” he said as he studied my face.

“Nope,” I shook my head.

“Where you from?” he asked.

“724 All Hallows, right around the corner,” I responded.

“I know you from somewhere. Where do you work?” Stone asked.

“Ain’t got a job,” I responded.

“You drive a car like
that
, and you
ain’t got a job
,” he mimicked, “The car’s got to be worth forty grand.”

“More like sixty,” I corrected him, “I box. I’m a boxer. I don’t look at it as a job.”

“That’s it!” he shouted.

“Television. The uhhm. Yeah. The fight with Dekkar and Mc Claskey. You were standing beside Dekkar for the interview with a little blonde-headed girl. Think it was Dekkar’s wife,” Stone said as he waved his finger at me.

“Yup. Dekkar and I are best friends.” I nodded.

“You and Shame on Dekkar? Best friends?” he asked.

“Yep.” I nodded.

“No shit. Hear that Parker? Kleitz? Shane Dekkar’s best friend right here. Probably hit this guy with a three piece before he knew it. Think you can get him to give me an autograph?” Stone asked.

“I can have him come up here in ten minutes and sign the hood of your goddamned car if you’ll have Parker take this cuff of my wrist,” I laughed.

“God damn it Parker. Get the cuffs off of him,” Stone demanded.

“Probably good thing your girl here called 911. You’d have beaten that guy to death if we hadn’t showed up, huh?” he asked.

And now it all began to make sense. Liv called the cops from the car while I was talking to shit-for-brains. Frantic, she probably explained the there was a guy with a gun, something about a tattooed bald guy, and a carjacking. In perfect cop fashion, the police came screaming onto the scene to the rescue.
I hate cops.

“That’d be my guess, yeah,” I agreed as Parker took off the cuffs.

“So, I’m going to need to fill out a report and get statements. We’ll take
him
to the station. I can get most of the information here, but you’ll need to stop at the station and fill out a report of everything that happened here tonight. Hell, maybe even tomorrow would be fine,” Stone said flatly as he motioned toward the shit-head thief.

“And if I get Dekk to sign the hood of your cruiser, you’ll forget the assault?” I chuckled.

“Assault?
What assault
?” Stone said.

“He hit me. And kicked my face,” the shit-head said.

I turned and looked at Stone. Stone nodded his head sharply toward shit-head and smiled.

Parker looked at me. I smiled. Kleitz looked at me and smiled. I smiled in return.

Kleitz let go of the thief and stepped aside.

The thief looked at me.

I smiled.

He didn’t.

And I did what Mike Ripton does best. Well, short of fucking bitches.

I knocked that motherfucker out.

Cold.

VEE.
“Conley versus Gibson is clear in that respect, your honor,” I paused, waiting for a response that didn’t come.

“
You seem to have all the answers. You’re just like your father
,” he sighed.

“I don’t ever have
all
of the answers, your honor. I do, from time to time, have the
right
answers. Specifically, I’ll file a motion 12 (b) (6) in accordance with the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure in anticipation of a dismissal,” I spoke in a clear and concise manner.

I hesitated and waited for his verbal confirmation. A heavy sigh through the speaker of my desk phone signified his prolonged response was exactly what I had hoped for. I pressed my hands together and waited to hear him say it.

“
File the motion, counsel. You are correct. It appears the plaintiff did not state a claim for which relief can be granted. Is that all, Vivian?”
his voice faded as I heard papers shuffling over the phone.

“Yes, your honor,” I responded.

“
Advise your father I asked of his welfare, will you
?” his voice became more distant.

“Yes, your honor,” I responded as I clenched my hands into fists and shook them in the air.

And, as the honorable Judge Black often did, he hung up the phone. No forewarning, no goodbye, just a disappearance. After a few long seconds, my phone went to the default beeping sound. I picked the receiver up and placed it back into the cradle, silencing the beep.

“You know you can just push the button. The one on the bottom, below the extensions,” Tonia reminded me.

“I realize that. Picking it up and placing it back into the receiver is more satisfying,” I smiled and stood from my chair.

“Sooo,” she waited, leaning on the door jamb waiting for validation of what she already knew.

“So. I need to file a twelve-b-six on the Wilson case. It appears counsel for the plaintiff had very little attention to detail,” I said as I walked her direction.

“You want me to…” she began.

“Tonia, I want you to do what I pay you to do. Pull a fucking motion. Fill the damned thing out. Include all of Wilson’s information, no differently than the last one hundred and who knows how many motions you have filed. Send it to me, upon completion, as an electronic file. Upon receipt, I will complete it, including all of the pertinent reference to law. Then we’ll file it with the court,” I responded in a definitive tone.

“Yes ma’am,” Tonia responded, slowly shifting her gaze to the floor.

“Tonia?” I said flatly.

“Yes Mrs. Simon?” she said as she looked up.

“Thank you,” I pressed my palms into my skirt and turned to face my desk.

“Certainly,” she responded quietly as she shuffled toward her desk.

I lowered myself into my chair, proud of my accomplishments of the day. On my way home, I would stop by the hospital and advise my father of Judge Black’s inquiry. For the next hour, I planned to relax at my desk and get caught up on what a federal attorney in Austin, Texas never gets caught up on.

Relaxation.

I exhaled and closed my eyes.

I thought of my father, and his physical condition. His doctor expected him to live for a few more weeks. I had no expectation of him lasting that long. My mother left him years ago for choosing his work over his home life, leaving me to take care of him. When she left she never looked back. I can’t say, considering all things, that I blame her.

I left my husband because he was a pussy when I married him, and he never developed into an actual man. He never took charge in our relationship. Law school, generally speaking, isn’t a good time to start dating, and we were no exception to this rule. I told myself after we started practicing law that he would change, but it never happened. What
did
happen was my finding of my
true
self. All day at work, I was in charge, making decisions that people’s lives depended on. When I got home, I wanted to throw my respective hands in the air, and have a man take control of me.