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He went to the defendants’ table and pulled out his laptop, notes, and folders then checked his phone. Still no response from ReShawn. If one ever would come. Well...there was no more waiting time so...
Walstead and Manville settled in at their table, with Aristian in the gallery, right behind them. A few other attorneys had entered the chamber, probably with afternoon trials scheduled.
One of them, Simon had spoken to when he was looking for a lawyer to help him. Back before he realized they were either afraid of the DA's office or just didn't give a damn about helping an old faggot fight back.
The man seemed truly surprised to see Simon and was about to speak when the bailiff called, “All rise...”
And all the rest of that blithering nonsense the man spewed to massage the judge's ego.
Falwell came floating in, as full of himself as before, and took his chair. He glanced between the prosecution and defense and said, “Are we now ready to continue?”
Walstead rose and said, “Well, your honor, we have Dr. Aristian here ready to view the defendant’s claim and testify to it, for the record. We’re awaiting agreement from Mr. Halloran.”
Mister Halloran. In here he could manage his manners.
Simon had to shake his head to keep from snarling as he said, “Let’s go. In your chambers?”
Falwell frowned and said, “No. Bailiff will show you to a jury room and wait outside the door. Then he will bring you back in.”
Simon nodded. Did not even think of looking at any of them, just kept his focus straight ahead and followed the bailiff through a side door down a short hallway and into a room that looked like it was straight out of Twelve Angry Men.
He felt an odd moment of déjà vu as he walked the length of the room, but ticked it off as having seen the movie so many times. Long table. Lots of chairs. Two windows with blinds looking out on a parking lot. It even had a wall-mounted revolving fan in a corner.
He kept his focus on the fan until he heard the door close then turned to see Aristian standing at the other end of the table, eyeing him.
“Did you really expect me to be a physician?” he asked, almost chuckling. “Are you one of those people who think that’s the only thing a doctor can be?”
Simon took in a deep breath and asked, “How do you want to do this?”
The man blinked. “Well...Dillon tells me you claim to have a tattoo on the top of your penis. Which I need to see. So...if you could lower your pants and show me...”
Simon undid his trousers and let them drift down to his knees. Then he pulled his briefs down in front to let the elastic of the briefs catch behind his penis and testicles. Finally, he held the tail of his shirt up so there was a clear view of everything, and the little red dragon gleefully revealed itself as it whispered up half his shaft into his hair.
Aristian blinked and said, “May I take a look, by the window?”
Simon pulled his trousers up and made his way to the closest one, then he let them drop, again. Aristian drew close and almost touched him, as if he wanted to hold it for closer examination.
“This must have been very painful. How did you manage? Does it look so detailed when you’re erect?”
Simon just looked at him. Did not even try to reply.
Aristian straightened up. “I’m not your enemy, Mr. Halloran,” he sighed. “I’m only here to describe what I’ve seen.”
“Have you seen enough?” Simon asked, his voice calm.
The man nodded. “What I needed to. Unless you can become erect...”
Simon huffed a hollow breath, anger shimmering inside him. He did not even attempt to hold back his disdain when he asked, “Do you want to suck on it? See if it tastes like soy sauce?”
Arisitan stiffened and glared at him. “No. We’re done.”
Simon tucked himself back in order and opened the door. The bailiff was right there. He was led back into the courtroom, where he went to his table and sat in the chair. Anger still bounced through him.
At the same time, the doctor stopped by the prosecution’s table, where they spoke in soft voices.
Probably getting their story in order, Simon thought. Meaning Walstead would not be withdrawing the charges, even in the face of this.
It was going to be a fight to the death.









