Chapter 8: Brother and Sister Talk!

Chapter 8: Brother and Sister Talk!

Occasionally I saw Mary's eyes looking at me in the rearview mirror, but she still hadn't said a single word. I just smiled down at the handcuffs. In my mind, I was already running through a couple of quick options on how to break out of them.

The first thing I could do was dislocate my wrist joints to squeeze my hands straight out, but that didn't sound like a fun idea at all.

The second option was to reach into my wallet or my school bag for some hidden lock picks. The set in my wallet was specially made for handcuffs.

The third option was to pickpocket my sister for the actual handcuff key. Oh, did I not mention that's exactly what I did back in the school office?

I had been quietly removing my cuffs while she wasn't looking, just so I could be more comfortable. My sister was being completely unreasonable right now, and she hadn't even officially arrested me anyway. I figured she was just venting her anger on me in this childish way. If I was actually getting arrested, the department would never let her be the officer to do it.

"Why are you back there smiling like an idiot?" Mary suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

"Officer Lee, I think I should wait for my lawyer before I answer any of your questions," I replied smoothly.

She scrunched her eyebrows and growled at me through the mirror. It was actually kind of cute.

"You little bastard! I am not arresting you, but the station was told to bring you in to take your official statements."

I just grinned, held up the unlocked handcuffs, and questioned her. "Then why put these on me in front of the whole school? Now everyone at Star High is going to think I am a bad-guy criminal."

Mary's eyes widened as she glanced back. "H-How did you get those off?!"

I held up her own cuff keys between my fingers and gave her a little lecture. "You have to keep your cuff keys on the backside of your belt, Mary. A criminal can easily swipe them off you if they're hanging on the front side. Don't thank me for teaching you this, either. Dad once told me that exact same thing."

"You little shit! Are you pickpocketing now?!" she yelled, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. "I can't believe you actually stole an officer's keys..."

She started off strong, but I could tell she was thinking about those old police lessons from our father, too. Even though her biological dad had left indefinitely when she was only six, my dad became her real dad for the rest of her life until she turned eighteen and became an adult.

"Did any of those guys die or something?" I asked, shifting the topic back to the fight. "I don't think any of them would. And the baseball bat guy I kicked in the head, well, I held back plenty."

"No one died, but all of them went straight to the hospital for the injuries from your fight," Mary said, her tone turning serious. "The real reason you're being brought in is because of who you hurt. Tony Deng and Alex Deng. Tony is the guy you jump-kicked."

"No, that was not a jump kick," I corrected her immediately. "That was a somersault axe kick!"

She pulled the patrol car into the police station parking lot and kept talking.

"Stuff it, Rick. The point is Tony's father is from one of the noble families, and the man is absolutely pissed. He insisted you be brought in for arrest.

The video evidence we all got clearly shows them attacking you first, but he has enough corporate influence to make us follow procedure and put this on the official record. This is exactly why I told you to not get into fights."

Mary parked the car, got out, and opened the rear door for me. I picked up my heavy school bag and stepped out onto the pavement. As I got clear of the car, I intentionally bumped right into her, making it look like a total accident.

While pulling off the clumsy routine, I used my basic thief skills to smoothly slide her cuffs and keys right back into their proper spots on her utility belt. She didn't feel a thing. She just gave me a dirty look, held out her hand, and barked at me.

"Give me my stuff back, you sticky-fingered monkey."

I just grinned and pointed down at her waist. "But you already have them back? Are you feeling okay, sister, he-he?"

When she looked down and noticed they were indeed right there on her belt without her ever noticing me move, she glared at me. She reached out, grabbed my ear, and started dragging me straight into the police station while I just kept a helpless smile on my face.

James always teases me by saying that I am secretly in love with Mary. But he is completely wrong, I only love her as a sister. Sure, I can recognize that she is beautiful, but she has been my sister since the day I was born.

Then, when I was fourteen and she was eighteen, it felt like she took on a motherly role to keep us alive. Now that I am eighteen, we are in a bit of a grey area with our dynamics. We could be seen more as roommates, or just back to regular siblings.

I have never had nasty fantasies about Mary, either. I feel like I would be completely disrespecting my mom and dad, as well as Mary herself, if I ever let my mind wander down that path.

"Stop daydreaming and go with the clerk," Mary said, giving me a light nudge. "He will take you to the witness room for questions. Now go."

Over the last year, I had come to the station quite a bit and met plenty of my sister's fellow officers and coworkers. I was pretty familiar with the front desk and the detective bureau, but today would be my very first time stepping into the questioning and interrogation department.

An old officer who was nearing retirement and only handled light desk work took charge of my paperwork. He gave me a reassuring look as we walked.

"Hello, Rick," he said kindly. "Sorry for the trouble, but we just need to follow some basic procedures for formality's sake. Follow me."

I followed the officer down a quiet hallway, and he led me into a room that was roughly twenty feet by twenty feet. One wall contained a large sheet of one-way glass, exactly like the ones you always see in police movies, with a single wooden desk sitting right in the center. There was a water dispenser in the corner and a clock ticking on the wall, mostly because this was classified as a witness room rather than an actual interrogation room. They were a bit more civilized in this wing and didn't use discomfort tactics to sweat people out.

The two of us sat down at the desk and began discussing my personal information and the exact details of the event. When it came to how I knew the enforcers were waiting for me, I quickly changed the story, claiming I had received an anonymous text tip the night before. I didn't want to get the Ning sisters in trouble. Luckily, I still had the digital receipt on my phone showing the pepper spray was purchased well before the fight and the tip, so the old officer included that in the file as well.

Right as we were finishing up, a sharp knock came from the door.

The door swung open, and a middle-aged man with a bit of a gut and a heavy leather briefcase stepped into the room. He looked exactly like a high-priced lawyer, and he definitely didn't give me kind eyes as he addressed the officer in charge of my paperwork.

"I am the attorney Hank Ho, representing Tony Deng," he announced, his voice dripping with arrogance. "My client is formally pressing charges for excessive force, and he wants this boy arrested immediately."

The officer handling my file frowned, looking over the new legal documents. He stood up, looking at the two of us.

"I will go find the arresting officer, so please wait here," he told us. "And Mr. Lee, don't say a word without a lawyer present. Help yourself to some water and I will be right back."

After the officer left the room, I got up, grabbed a paper cup from the dispenser, and drank some cold water. The lawyer watched me, a smug smile on his face.

"A cracked collarbone, a broken nose, and a missing tooth," Hank Ho said, tapping his briefcase. "This little display is going to get you about two years in jail. With parole, you might get out early after about half a year. Was it really worth it?"

Instead of answering, I pulled out my brand-new smartphone—the one Scott had technically bought for me through our little transaction—and started looking up Hank Ho's information on the internet. Digging into secure networks was a bad idea while sitting inside a police station, but standard search engines were fair game. Within moments, I found a few articles and public archives about him. I immediately noted his name down in my mental bingo book for a fun time later.

Plus, the odds of people watching me from behind that one-way glass were incredibly high, so I needed to keep my cool.

As I scrolled, my search pulled up some old graduation photos and a few hidden social media posts. One specific picture showed him sitting at a high-end lounge, deeply intoxicated alongside a heavily made-up escort. The image had actually been posted on the woman's personal social media account, which my phone's facial recognition search easily scraped from the public web.

I turned the screen around and held up the picture right in front of his face.

"You're a very popular man, Mr. Ho," I said, offering a completely innocent smile. "To even meet an escort of her caliber, I am seriously impressed. You can really hold your alcohol, too. She actually mentioned online that you were a nice regular customer and gave you a solid seven out of ten for clients. Oh, so how long did you say you were going to lock me up for again? I need to log this down in my notes."

Hank Ho froze. He looked exactly like a guy who had just been stripped completely naked by a kid he had met less than ten minutes ago. He stared at the screen, wondering what kind of terrifying investigative skills a random high schooler possessed. A thick bead of sweat started perspiring on his forehead, his smug confidence totally shattering under my gaze.

Before he could speak, the door opened and three people walked into the room.

It was the desk officer, a senior lieutenant I recognized as my sister's boss, and a sharp middle-aged lawyer dressed in a flawless grey suit. The new attorney had salt-and-pepper hair, dark, calculating eyes, and a confident stride. The moment his gaze locked onto me, a warm smile broke across his face. He walked straight over, extending his hand along with a premium business card.

"Hello, Rick Lee," he said, his voice smooth and commanding. "My name is Nick Soto, professional defense attorney. Take my card. I have already been fully paid by an anonymous friend who does not want to see you framed today. Just accept me as your council, and from this moment on, I will represent you and slap this bogus charge right back in Hank Ho's face. What do you say, Mr. Lee?"

I stared at the card, completely stunned. What the fuck is going on here? I felt like I had suddenly been trapped in the plot of a fictional novel. But I also knew that without proper legal backing, the noble families would absolutely screw me over. I shook his hand firmly and pocketed the card.

"Mr. Soto, I think your help would be very welcome," I replied. "But who exactly hired you for me?"

"Now that you're officially my client, let me handle this administrative matter first," Nick Soto said, turning his back to me. "I think Mr. Ho would like to leave and not spend his entire afternoon in a police station."

Soto pulled a thick stack of legal documents from his jacket, stepped over to the sergeant in charge of arrests, and handed them over.

"If the criminal Tony Deng is pressing charges, then all six of the attackers who initiated that ambush will also formally be accused of all of their crimes," Soto stated, his tone ringing with absolute authority. "With the weapons and conspiracy involved, this should total at least ten years of jail time, even with early parole considered. So, if my client is going to be formally charged, please send officers to the hospital to place all six of them under arrest immediately. That is all."

Soto then slid an identical copy of the paperwork right into the hands of Mr. Ho. The proud lawyer looked more and more uneasy as his eyes scanned the massive list of penal violations this legendary attorney had compiled in record time. Fuck, even Ho knew he couldn't defend Tony against a list like that.

I didn't know it at the time, but Nick Soto was widely recognized as one of the top ten best defense lawyers in the entire Azure State. If I had known his actual status, even I would have been completely speechless, let alone poor Mr. Ho, who looked up to the guy like an unachievable idol. Most wealthy clients had to wait months just to get a consultation with Soto.

Mr. Ho swallowed hard, turning back to the sergeant.

"Before we initiate any formal arrests, let me make a quick call to my client first, if I may?"

Mary's boss gave a brief nod, and Ho practically ran out of the witness room with his phone pressed to his ear, the door clicking shut behind him.

Soto turned back to me, a sharp grin on his face. "This strategy is what I like to call mutual annihilation, Rick. Most corporate lawyers don't want their wealthy clients getting processed into the system if they can avoid it. After watching the surveillance video of your amazing fight this morning, I easily found a dozen minor violations on your end. But I found twice as many felony charges on the guys you fought, ha-ha!"

I let out a dry laugh. The guy had basically just told me he could have sent me up the river even harder than Mr. Ho was trying to. I smiled and nodded my appreciation.

"Well, I am definitely glad you're on my side, then. But I still can't think of any friends who have the kind of money to send someone like you to help me."

Soto patted my shoulder gently, his expression softening into a warm, professional smile.

"Rick, look at it like this," he assured me. "My primary client was the one who put me on retainer for you. Why this distinction is important is because I am a strict professional who never leaks a client's secrets. This means anything you discuss with me will never go back to the person who hired me in the first place. As far as the law is concerned, you are now two entirely separate clients I am contractually bound to protect. Do you understand my situation?"

"I get it, Mr. Soto," I said, a clear picture of the silver-dressed Ning twins flashing in my mind. "Just tell them thank you for me, and that's it. Hopefully, I won't be getting into this kind of trouble in the future."

Nick Soto chuckled, shaking his head at my naive assumption.

"No, Rick. In fact, you're going to see a lot of me, I assure you. Those five street thugs you dismantled belong to the Fire Birds syndicate, and they are incredibly ruthless. For some reason, their leadership is taking a very active interest in you, so I highly doubt this will be your last run-in with them. Be careful out there. As long as you don't take a human life, I can get you off easy. But a death on your hands might force you to stay in lockup for a while, unless the self-defense evidence is completely overwhelming. Just call my number immediately, and I will come at any hour of the night to get you out of jail."

A moment later, the door swung open and Mr. Ho walked back inside, an embarrassed, tight smile plastered across his face as he addressed the room.

"It seems my client was slightly mistaken about the timeline," Ho announced, trying to salvage his dignity. "The victim, Mr. Lee, was unfairly accused of starting the trouble. My client wishes to sweep all of this under the rug as a simple playground misunderstanding, with nothing to trouble the police department over. If that is acceptable to you, Mr. Soto?"

I gave my lawyer a brief nod. Soto grinned, stowing his documents back into his coat.

"If my client is not being charged with any legal violations, then he also agrees to let the matter rest," Soto replied smoothly. "It is nice to come to a mutual understanding, Mr. Ho."

And just like that, my very first real run-in with the law was easily avoided. The real hero of the morning was definitely Mr. Nick Soto, attorney at law.

The man, who everyone only called Sergeant, walked into the room behind the one-way glass and looked at Mary.

"Stop crying, he is fine now, geez," the Sergeant said, shaking his head. "How old are you anyway? Why is it that the only thing on this earth that can make you cry is your brother? Are you one of those bro-cons or something?"

Mary blushed red hearing his words and shot him a glare.

"Stuff it, Sergeant. I just care for my little brother," Mary insisted, wiping her face. "But why is one of the most famous lawyers in the Azure State helping Rick out? We don't have any friends with that kind of connection."

He shrugged, leaning against the wall as he shared his thoughts.

"My guess is he probably helped some rich person in the past without realizing they were important, and they kindly stepped in to return the favor. Either that, or some rich girl is deeply in love with him."

"My brother has never had a girlfriend in his entire life, so that definitely is not it," Mary countered immediately. "He sleeps on the couch and is home every single night, so I would know."

"Oh? Is that so?" The Sergeant grinned. "So you knew that on his birthday he was going to be out late while you worked your shift? And wasn't it a woman who sent you that fight video in the first place? Plus, after that video spreads across the internet, girls are going to be lining up for a piece of little Ricky! Ha-ha, it's a good thing you're not actually a bro-con, or you are going to be miserable when he finally packs up and leaves home."

Mary went a bit pale hearing all of her boss's points, and her heart felt a sudden stab of anxiety. She looked back through the one-way glass, watching me browse the web on my new smartphone to pass the time until her shift was finally over.

The Sergeant just smiled at the quiet, distracted Mary and left the observation room.

Left entirely alone in the dark room, Mary looked through the glass and whispered quietly to herself.

"No... Rick, you promised to never leave me, right?"

An old memory of a younger Rick played out in her mind, from the painful days just after their parents were taken from them, and a single tear fell from her eye.