Deacon’s cane caught him in the shins, sending him spinning headlong out onto the pavement. Barely keeping his balance, he hurtled onto the broad sidewalk in front of the main doors of the terminal.
“Here, what are you doing?” the other lawyer called after Deacon.
Stevens panted heavily, chest heaving, as he glared at Deacon. Roaring like a bull moose, he rushed the younger man, trying to tackle him. The cane whipped up almost by itself, smacking Stevens in the kneecap. The knee buckled, sending the fat lawyer sprawling on the pavement.
“Now see here!” The other lawyer had reached Deacon’s side, pulling on his arm.
The movement threw Deacon slightly off balance, but he managed to stay on his feet.
“Keep out of it, you nitwit!” Stevens said to the other lawyer. “Can’t you see he’s a lunatic?”
Deacon’s laugh was cold and harsh, rumbling from him like thunder from the depths of hell. “At least I’m not a money grubbing, self-serving asshole,” Deacon said with menacing quiet. “You nearly killed me, you prick. I’ll have a bum leg the rest of my life, because of you.” He lied convincingly. “I ought to take you out right now.”
“With that leg? You can hardly walk, let alone take me down. Have fun finding me, you dumb hick. You and that Aussie bitch deserve one another.”
Deacon was fine with being insulted, but when Stevens mentioned Kacy, he lost his temper. Swinging his cane low, like a baseball bat, he hooked Fergus Stevens behind the leg. The fat man fell heavily and Deacon had the satisfaction of hearing a bone snap. Even so, the portly lawyer got up and ran toward the parking lot. Limping slowly and awkwardly, he could still outrun Deacon, whose leg was starting to throb painfully.
Gritting his teeth, Deacon launched himself in a flying tackle, cane extended to trip Fergus Stevens. He missed, falling heavily on his chest. He had enough stage combat training to know how to fall, but unlike his brother, he wasn’t a stunt man. He skinned his knees and elbows painfully on the concrete.
Laughing nastily, Stevens started across the street to the parking lot. A white blur whizzed past Deacon, smacking into Stevens, knocking him to the ground. He fell hard, cracking his head on the pavement, as police erupted from the terminal doors, led by Ev and Dino.
Nancy ran over to Deacon, helping him sit up. Dino and Ev stood just outside the terminal doors, panting hard as the police converged upon the prostrate form of Fergus Stevens.
The little old lady with the golf cart stood over him, yelling loudly. “Ha! How do you like that, you pig? I got you!”
“Ma’am,” the nearest policeman asked her. “Why did you hit him with the golf cart?”
“I got the idea from that nice young man over there,” she grinned as she pointed at Deacon. “He said he’d been hit by a golf cart, and that’s how he broke his leg. When I saw him running after this man, I figured he must have a good reason. Then I remembered how the police were looking for a man who fit his description, and I just put the pedal to the metal!”
The police officer in charge walked over to Deacon. After calling the paramedics to check him and Stevens. He squatted next to Deacon on the sidewalk.
“How the hell did you recognize him, Mr. Stewart? I’ve probably seen him half a dozen times, and didn’t know it was him.”
“His tie,” Deacon groaned, trying to find a more comfortable position on the ground.
Deacon nodded, gritting his teeth against the pain. “It’s the ugliest f**king tie I’ve ever seen. Stevens always wears them. The other lawyers,” Deacon motioned to his chest like he was straightening a tie. “Their ties match.” He tried to shrug, but it sent a spasm of pain up his back and into his left shoulder.
The policeman started to laugh as the paramedics pulled up by the curb. “By damn! That’s the first criminal I ever heard of who was caught by his own bad taste!”
“Fashion police,” Deacon said and passed out.
Deacon woke in yet another hospital. This time, he was in a private room at Halifax Medical Center in Daytona. As hospital rooms went, it wasn’t too bad. It was just the fact he was back in one, that annoyed him.
His arms were bandaged from the elbows down. His broken leg was elevated and he could see scrapes and bruises on both his legs, especially the knees. His ribs felt sore as well, he wondered if he’d broken any.
“Hello, you,” Kacy poked her head around the corner of the door. “How’s my love?”
“Sore as hell,” his voice was gruff with disuse.
Her kiss was soft and gentle as she sat next to him on the bed. “There’s good news,” she told him brightly.
“Fantastic! Tell me, I need some.”
“Stevens was arrested on a variety of charges, and is being held without bail. He tried to press assault charges, but the judge threw them out. You’ve no broken bones this time, but a rather nasty case of road rash on your arms, knees, and chest. You also bruised up your ribs and fractured two of them a bit. Not too serious, thank God! You’ll be here overnight, but should be able to go home tomorrow.”
“That’s very good news,” he whispered, kissing her neck and nibbling her ear.
©2021 Dellani Oakes