“Okay so the judge revoked the bond and— Hey, where’s Duke? Quick?”
Brian didn’t outwardly startle at the bondsman’s abrupt appearance beside him, but it did surprise him. Damn, when did court recess? He turned and walked out into the communal area to retrieve the bond papers and contract so he could go.
Brian just shook his head, letting the short man know that neither of his bosses were there. They didn’t need to be to fix this mess.
“What? What does that… oh hell… you’re not the mute one are you?” The man stomped his foot and swung a fist in the air, cursing and pulling at the wispy gray and sandy strands of hair on the side of his head, the top had already been yanked clean.
Brian didn’t bother confirming that. His T-shirt said Duke’s—that was all the man needed to know. A couple of people still making their way out of the courtrooms slowed down at the bondsman’s theatrics.
“I guess Duke calls himself being an ass. He knows I need someone good and fast. I need him and Quick. They know I can’t risk losing this money, so he sends me the damn retard.”
Brian didn’t move, he had no reaction, even though the disrespect stung like hell. Instead, he stepped in and towered over the pudgy man, who reminded him a lot of Danny DeVito, and slowly brought his cell phone up and held it in front of the man’s face. His screensaver said one word.
CAREFUL.
The man scoffed. “What-the-hell-ever. Just tell me you can catch this thieving prick.”
Brian kept his composure locked tight. He wouldn’t do to the man all the painful things that were springing to his mind the longer he stood in front of him. Duke’s office was busy and any contracts they took never guaranteed fast turnarounds like this idiot was demanding. Basically, Brian had to drop the case he was on and take this one. Duke had done the man a favor and he refused to see it that way, all because he had Brian to deal with. He had been sent the best, but he couldn’t accept it.
Brian was done listening to the man’s tirade. He yanked the thin stack of papers out of the bondsman’s hands and turned his back on him. The man made the mistake of hurrying around a few people and jumping back in front of Brian.
“I want to know when you’re gonna start. Are you going now? Did you look up all the contacts that I—?”
Brian gently but determinedly pushed the guy to the side as if he was a stubborn turnstile. He gave him another warning glare, but the guy was in such a state over his crises that he was getting hysterical. “The contract is mine, so you technically work for me. You don’t walk away until I tell you you can.”
More people were slowing and stopping, angling for a good show. They swiped their heads back and forth between the two men as if they were watching a tennis match. The way spectators gawked at Brian, taking in his size, the all-black leather, the shiny gold recovery agent star suspended from his neck, they just knew he was about to smash someone. But Brian was far more disciplined than that and he’d never use his skills on someone so inferior.
“I want to know the scope of your grid. If you already have a plan I want to know the details. I won’t be left in the dark because it’s my ass on the line!” The bondsman fumed.
Brian would have to knock the man down if he wanted to get past him this time. Instead of drawing an even bigger crowd, Brian pulled out his cell again and opened his text to speech app, typing a quick message.
“You can come to the office. Talk there.” The computerized voice answered for him.
The bondsman barked an I-can’t-believe-this-shit’ laugh and mocked in his own robotic voice that ended up making him sound like Yoda on Auto-Tune. “I can come to the office, he says.”
The crowd laughed along with the bondsman. “I can’t work with your incompetence or whatever special needs you have.”
“Can you be any more of a dick, Ron? Probably not. Do you know you’re insulting a decorated veteran, you shit?”
Brian didn’t have to turn around to know the bondswoman—Grace—with a mouth like a sailor had come up behind him, drawing all the attention to herself and off Brian’s heated face. The mocking of his app had him pissed. The way the crowd snickered and the hushed murmurs of ‘what’s wrong with him’ reached his ears over all the others. Nothing was wrong with him, dammit. Then Brian realized they were staring at him with pity now. Another mentally fucked-up vet. Now they gaped at his massive size as if he was a gamma radiation experiment gone bad.