WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT WHEN CARMA'S INVOLVED?

DIECISÉIS

Alixxander sauntered to the bench I laid on numerous times before, removed his clothing on the way and sat down. His raging c*ck stared directly between my legs. Begging for access again. I didn't know the proper protocol in such a situation. There was no denying the amount of pleasure to be had for the both of us if I nestled onto the seat he offered me. The torrid affair I swore to the press was not going to happen, it already had. Unfortunately, it no longer became a question of morals, since the smallest sum of feelings had taken root.

Stroking himself while keeping an eye on me had to be a tactic he used with previous partners to lure them into his game. My cooch was all about finding out. Being the temporary control center, she forced my glued feet to move me closer as my fingers began unfastening all buttons and clasps with fury. Each piece of cloth silently hit the floor. Before I knew it, I stood in front of him wearing my favorite outfit.

Without a word, his hands hooked the back of my thighs and guided me closer. Spreading myself, I hovered over his waiting joystick. Like a fiend, I wanted all of him with no regard for my safety. He slowed me down upon entry. Accommodation took time as I gave in to him. Slowly but roughly, my love tunnel was filled. Alixxander's thickness instantly worked miracles inside of me. Because of him, love making with a man became a magical experience I never thought was possible for me.

He snatched my nip into his mouth and sucked it, hard. Kissing my neck, he whispered, “FCK, you feel amazing. Once or twice will never be enough for me.” I wholeheartedly agreed.

He occupied my lips to catch and control the pleasure-filled moans escaping. For a while I led the march, but I must've loitered too long. Standing up, with me attached, he kept thrusting as he laid me on the bench, inching in and out of me. Protection was the furthest thing from either of our minds. Connecting on a level we never had with another human being was spectacular. Elated moans spilled out as waves of my gasm crashed over me.

“Harmoney. Aah. I'm sorry.” I thought here we go again. Wrenching himself from my insides, he sprayed all over my stomach. “I'm sorry. I didn't want to slip up like last time.”

How can a kinship blossom during inappropriate times? Again, we fell into each other knowing how wrong it was. Sneaking out from underneath him, I charged into his bathroom to freshen up the best I could. By the time I exited, he looked as fresh as a daisy.

Guilt took over. “Your wife was here not twenty minutes ago. We cannot continue. I'm going to lose my job.”

“Fck my wife.”

“While it’s the best I’ve ever had, it must stop, Mr. Savage. You're fcking married.” Drilling it into his head might help put a stop from trying again. When it came to him, my choices clearly weren’t the best.

“Harmoney, please. I'm not good at this.”

“What is this?” I’ll tell you exactly what it is. It’s an affair. He’s not receiving the one thing every man requires. Well, he is just not from his wife.

“I don't know. I find myself thinking of you all the time. I need to make up with you and fix the mistake I made.” Exactly what I thought. How could I let myself fall for the same bullsh*t again?

“Mr. Savage, I've never had a good relationship in the normal sense. Even though they weren't the best, I was never called a mistake. I need to return to work.”

“Harmoney. HARMONEY, DON'T GO.” Slamming the door behind me should plant that wedge between us.

I bolted up in bed. Why couldn't I stop reliving one of the most fantastically horrible times of my life?

Three months since then, the Carmichael case finally got its day in court. The DA refused to back down. Arresting someone without evidence then searching their car that was parked at their home during the time of the incident and still coming up empty-handed. It never looks good. Finally, able to get Mr. Carmichael’s account of what happened and the route he took, I was able to track his whereabouts there and back. There are gaps because the stores or residents either deleted or recorded over the footage from that night, but I had enough to piece his walk together. It took many motions and complaints, but the official and original witness statements were ordered by the judge to be turned over. Upon questioning them, some of the witnesses recanted. A few said the officers threatened them into making false statements. And others admitted to not being there at all.

During the getting over Alixxander phase, I made time for a passion of mine, cooking. Also, many of my sister co-workers and I formed more than a working relationship. We’ve gone as far as to plan a girls' trip when the firm shuts down for a mandatory vacation. That will happen when the Carmichael case comes to a resolution. We made sure it wouldn't be anything fancy we couldn’t get last-minute reservations for.

Relaxing on the sofa as I shoveled spoonful after spoonful of sugary cereal into my mouth, I flipped through the channels. Can you guess whose face was plastered all over the telly? I am sure you can. The headline read, 'SECOND SAVAGE SON TO MARRY HABITUAL CHEATER'. Ouch. Talk about a second-degree burn. Get it? Because he’s the second brother and all that. I found it odd that they were a day late and a dollar short. Of course, I watched the twenty-seven minutes of them bashing the not-so-new-newlyweds. If only they knew Alixxander was as much of a cheater as his wife and that I was his accomplice. Talk about a sh*t show I never wanted to be a part of.

Walking into the office the next morning began with yelling. It had nothing to do with me, so I retreated to my office. Minding my own business kept me out of a lot of trouble. All I can tell you, Román was stark raving mad. Barricaded in my office for no more than five minutes, when the shock of the door crashing open and Alixxander entering ticked me off. Barely touching the door, he slammed it closed as quickly as it opened.

Looking back at the papers on my desk, I asked with a tude, “Ever heard of knocking?”

“You act like you were getting laid in here.” I wanted to say my office wasn't big enough for that yet. Professionalism taught me to bite my tongue.

Without looking up, I wanted him to know I had seen the exposé. “How does it feel to be married to a cheater, cheater?”

“You don't know the whole story. She fcking tricked me.” Who knew he’d turn into one of those guys that throws accusations around when he couldn’t get his way?

“Please. It was your choice to be with her. Just like it was my choice to fck you.”

“I was drunk before she got there and more so afterward. That should prove I wasn't coherent enough to marry anyone. Evan and Carma fcking set me up somehow. FCK.” He bolted out of my office. Okie dokie then. What a bowl full of fun.

The next few weeks were spent in court with Alixxander at my side instead of Travis, thankfully. His attitude on the tamer side, and not a single indecorous comment. It’s not like there was another choice besides accepting his marital status. Of all days, it had to be the start of our case that he complained about being sick. Seeing the pale-green color on his face proved he wasn’t faking. Time to prove our client’s innocence, I started with an unusual strategy, calling the officers as my first witnesses. Cold, hard facts are irrefutable. What’s better? They are on Mr. Carmichael’s side. When someone's life is in my hands, it makes me feel like a Goddess when I argue for their God given right to freedom and justice.

Both officers were discredited within minutes of placing their hands on the Bible. Swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as they decided to make it up throughout the investigation as they saw fit to mold the narrative to their theory is exactly what they did. Getting their ducks lined up before perjuring themselves would’ve given them the illusion of a fighting chance that they weren’t going to lose their jobs. The video evidence proved our client was not in the vicinity at the time of the crime.

While still questioning the second officer, from behind me, I heard, “Your Honor, the prosecution would like to amend the charges.” Puppies running with their tails tucked.

I was peeved Judge Anderson hadn’t already dropped the charges and entertained the idea of amended charges after ripping apart the solid case the prosecution thought they had. Possession with intent to distribute were the amended charges. That was one hell of a stretch considering nothing in Mr. Carmichael’s background suggested drugs were ever in his life. The judge didn't respond, instead he turned to me. I preferred a not guilty verdict so he couldn’t be charged with the crime in the future if new evidence mysteriously popped up. I conferred with our client, and he wanted his freedom. My request, all charges be dismissed. Mr. Washington turned to me and asked if I was out of my mind.

The gavel was down before I responded. “Can I ask the questions, counselor?” He paused. “Miss Sanchez, proceed.”

I laid it all on the table. Mr. Carmichael's record was squeaky clean before the outrageous spectacle, showing that the police can and will do what they please, no matter if it is right or wrong.

“Your Honor, all that means is he was never caught.” Damn, Hightower is more of a btch than I thought.

“Counselors, I believe you have wasted this court's precious time and resources because you failed to do your job properly.”

“No, your Honor.”

“The officers lied, and they will be charged with perjury. They falsely arrested a man, searched his vehicle two days later and found something. What is it? We don’t know because it mysteriously disappeared. That alone should have been enough to drop the charges. Mr. Savage and Miss Sanchez were never notified of this either. Not a single thing was found on his person. There has been a blatant disregard for the law and severe misconduct by yourselves and law enforcement. You have no case.” It sounded like a win, but until I heard the words come from the judge, I needed to remain stone-faced.

“Seriously? Your Honor.”

“In the case of Commonwealth v. Carmichael, I find there is no sufficient evidence to proceed any further. Mr. Carmichael, you are a free man. Counselors, you better hope he doesn't bring a case against the city for the host of civil violations presented in my courtroom.”

“Your Honor, we plan to refile.” Hightower is a dog without a bone. She never cared who she ripped one from either, as long as she had one.

“I would advise against it, Ms. Hightower.” With the slamming of the gavel came the sweet sound of victory.

Mr. Carmichael and his family embraced for the first time in months. My heart was full knowing I had a hand in getting a beloved husband and father back with his family. Before leaving, Mr. Carmichael signed the documents needed to proceed with the suit against the Boston P.D. and the D.A.'s office. And he wants me to represent him. I gladly accepted. Spending the next hour in the clerk's office was not how I wanted to start my mini-vacation, but I was on cloud nine.