Deborah Mello - Seduced by a Stallion

Mrs. Banks nodded. “A hot minute,” she echoed as she flipped through a clipped stack of papers. “There you are. You’re seeing Judge Tyler this morning.” She continued to browse through her notes, her expression stern. “This is that case with Judge Broomes’s son. That’s probably why they moved it to family. He’s one of ours.”

Matthew nodded, his curiosity suddenly raised. “Who’s Judge Broomes?”

“Judge Katrina Broomes. The governor appointed her to replace the late Judge Harris. She hasn’t been with us long,” Mrs. Bright responded.

“Katrina? So, Judge Broomes is a woman?”

“We do have female judges, Counselor,” Mrs. Bright said, her hands dropping to her full hips.

“Yes, ma’am, I know. I was just asking,” he said with a soft chuckle.

The woman tossed him a warm smile, gesturing toward the large clock on the wall behind her. “Well, you better head on up. Judge Tyler doesn’t take kindly to court starting late.”

“Thank you, ladies. You two have a good day now,” Matthew replied, tossing them both a wink of his eye.

As he walked out the door, the two women stared after him, both admiring the sway of his fit physique. When the door was closed securely behind him, Mrs. Banks shook her gray head from side to side. “Mmm, mmm, mmm. If I was twenty years younger,” she said with a soft giggle.

“Honey, hush yo’ mouth!” Mrs. Bright giggled with her. “Just hush yo’ mouth!”

* * *

Matthew shook hands with the state prosecutor, a short, balding man with a bad comb-over of bright red hair. “Ed, good morning! How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well, sir. It’s good to see you again. You were subpoenaed today, weren’t you?”

“Yes, the State versus Collin Broomes. Kid stole my car.”

“We’re actually going to try to mediate that one. The boy is a judge’s son. First offense, good family, ready to admit guilt. We’re hoping to keep him out of the system and put him back on the right track. That is, of course, if you’re amenable.”

Matthew nodded. “Everything’s negotiable, Ed.”

“Good. Once the judge calls the court to order, I’ll ask that you all be referred to the family mediator and I’ll get you out as quickly as I can.”

“Thank you,” Matthew said, moving to take the seat directly behind the prosecutor.

He looked around the room. The crowd gathering was a hodgepodge of personalities, people from all social and economic walks of life. He couldn’t begin to identify which of the sons sitting beside his mother was the son who had taken his Mercedes and had crashed it into the center median on Interstate 35. He couldn’t, because there were far too many young boys sitting in that courtroom, waiting for their cases to be heard. The absurdity of that fact weighed heavily on his spirit. Matthew heaved a deep sigh.

Minutes later, with court officially in session, the court officer called the young man’s name. “The State of Texas versus Collin Broomes!”

Matthew looked up just as young Collin walked to the front of the courtroom, his attorney leading the way. The lanky teenager stood in the vicinity of six feet tall. His oversize stature belied his baby face, and it was obvious that he wasn’t quite comfortable with his height, that his maturation had not yet caught up with his size. He was neatly groomed, with a fresh haircut, khaki slacks, a navy blue polo shirt and leather loafers. With the exception of his hunched shoulders and the hands pushed deep into the pockets of his slacks, he didn’t seem to fit in with the other young boys, with their baggy pants, T-shirts and overpriced sports shoes.

Matthew looked around for a parent but saw no one that resembled the child, nor anyone that looked ready to claim him. His thoughts were interrupted as Judge Tyler called his name.

“Attorney Stallion, are you in agreement with the State that this case would be better served with mediation?”

Matthew came to his feet, buttoning his suit jacket as he approached the bench. “I am, Your Honor. But under the circumstances, if the court permits, I would appreciate the opportunity to participate in those negotiations.”

The judge nodded. “Not a problem, Counselor. The court will hold this case pending the outcome of mediation.”

The young man met Matthew’s eyes and stared. For most of the proceedings he’d looked disinterested. The judge calling Matthew’s name had caught Collin’s attention and he eyed Matthew curiously. When his attorney finally gestured with his head for Collin to follow, the boy did so, but not before looking back over his shoulder for one last look at the imposing black man.

Chapter 2

Katrina Broomes stood with her arms folded over her chest. Her right foot, sheathed in a patent-leather pump, tapped anxiously at the tiled floor. Every fiber of her body was annoyed. Katrina was still perturbed that, instead of being home on her one day off from work, she was pacing the hallway of family court, waiting for the disposition of her fifteen-year-old son’s criminal case.

She blew a heavy sigh, warm breath pushing past her thin lips. She still couldn’t believe that any child of hers was actually facing criminal charges. It was difficult to fathom that stupidity had seeped into her son’s pores and had laid claim to his brain. This was not how she had raised her only child, a youngster intent on taxing her last good nerve with every foolish antic he could muster up.

She began to pace again, gliding from one end of the narrow hallway to the other. She’d been a single parent since forever, raising her baby boy by her lonesome. Her husband, Colonel Jackson Broomes, an army helicopter pilot, had been killed during the Gulf War. The day that he’d been deployed to active duty, she’d promised him that she would do whatever it took to ensure the safety and security of his family. She’d assured him that he wouldn’t have to worry about his son, or her, while he was gone. She was still keeping that promise, still committed to doing whatever it took to keep her baby boy safe and sound, the way his father would have wanted.

Now her baby boy was a burgeoning young man, fast approaching adulthood, and keeping him safe was proving to be quite the challenge. When the boy was born, he’d come fighting his way into the world, kicking and screaming. Drawn to drama and commotion, Collin still hadn’t learned how to settle down and relax in his own silence.

She turned abruptly when she heard her name being called.

“Thank you for waiting, Judge Broomes,” the overpriced attorney she’d hired said, moving to her side. “We’re meeting upstairs. The mediator has already gone ahead. Judge Tyler has given permission for the victim to participate in the negotiations, as well.”

Katrina raised an eyebrow. “For what reason?”

“You may have heard of him. Matthew Stallion is a licensed attorney practicing law here in Dallas. He also heads the Briscoe Ranch Mentoring Foundation, which works with at-risk youth. He has a vested interest in seeing young men turn their lives around for the good. I think it would be to Collin’s benefit to have him present, which is why I asked for his participation.”

Katrina nodded. Matthew Stallion’s reputation had definitely preceded him. Knowing that her first encounter with the man would not be under the best of circumstances further soured her mood. She blew a deep sigh. “That’s fine.” She caught her son’s eye and shook her head, her annoyance registered all over her face.

Collin rolled his eyes skyward, knowing better than to say anything at all. The two followed behind their attorney as he headed in the direction of the elevator and the mediation rooms on the upper level of the courthouse.

Matthew and the state-appointed mediator, a young woman with crystal-blue eyes, a luxurious mane of blond hair and a wide smile, stood in conversation when they entered the room. The woman was giggling softly at something Matthew had just said, a full blush painting her pale complexion. Matthew was leaning in close, just a hair away from being too close, as he held the woman’s full attention. As the trio stepped into the space, the woman jumped as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Clearly flustered by the male attention she’d been enjoying, the woman fought to gather her composure. She smiled politely as she gestured for them all to come in and find a seat, a manicured hand extended in greeting.