Don't Judge Me

By GA Hauser

Married, forty-five year old Judge Lawrence Powers enjoyed a reputation as a fair, but tough, man. He often suspended sentences for first offenders and allowed them to work community service.
When a twenty-two year old defendant stood before him, Judge Powers once again, ruled in favor of allowing this man to work off his sentence by paying him to do his yard-work.

When Charlie McMullen was caught holding one of his brother friend’s bags of weed, Charlie figured he was done for. But, lucky him, he was brought before a former marine, and a man who looked scary, but maybe wasn’t.

As the judge and Charlie’s lives become intertwined, chaos follows.
With fall and Halloween approaching, Lawrence wondered if this year he was going to be given a treat, instead of tricked.

The judge. Held to a higher standard? Or...just another bad boy in a robe?

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Hauser
• Release date: Dec 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370518159

GA Hauser

About the AuthorAuthor G.A. Hauser is from Fair Lawn, New Jersey, USA. She attended university at The Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC, and has a BA in Fine Art from William Paterson College in Wayne NJ where she graduated Cum Laude. As well as degrees in art, G.A. is a Graduate Gemologist from the Gemological Institute of America (GIA). In 1994 G.A. graduated the Washington State Police academy as a Peace Officer for the Seattle Police Department in Washington where she worked on the patrol division. She was awarded Officer of the Month in February 2000 for her work with recovering stolen vehicles and fingerprint matches to auto-theft and bank robbery suspects. After working for the Seattle Police, G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England where she began to write full length gay romance novels. Now a full-time writer, G.A. has penned over 200 novels and short stories. Breaking into independent film, G. A. was the executive producer for her first feature film, CAPITAL GAMES which included TV star Shane Keough in its cast. CAPITAL GAMES had its Film Festival Premiere at Philly's Qfest, and its television premiere on OutTV. G.A. is the director and executive producer for her second film NAKED DRAGON, which is an interracial gay police/FBI drama filmed in Los Angeles with the outstanding cinematographer, Pete Borosh. (also the Cinematographer for Capital Games)The cover photographs of G.A.'s novels have been selected from talented and prolific photographers such as Dennis Dean, Dan Skinner, Michael Stokes, Tuta Veloso, Hans Withoos, and CJC Photography, as well as graphic comic artist, Arlen Schumer. Her cover designs have featured actors Chris Salvatore, Jeffery Patrick Olson, Tom Wolfe, and models Brian James Bradley, Bryan Feiss, Jimmy Thomas, Andre Flagger, among many others.Her advertisements have been printed in Attitude Magazine, LA Frontier, and Gay Times.G. A. has won awards from All Romance eBooks for Best Author 2009, Best Novel 2008, Mile High, Best Author 2008, Best Novel 2007, Secrets and Misdemeanors, and Best Author 2007.G.A. was the guest speaker at the SLA conference in San Diego, in 2013, where she discussed women writing gay erotica and has attended numerous writers’ conventions across the country.

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DON’T JUDGE ME

By

G.A.HAUSER

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2017

DON’T JUDGE ME

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2017

ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1974-4338-7-2

© The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WARNING

This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Please store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

First The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC publication:

October 2017

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Chapter 1

The court issues a warrant for five-hundred dollars. Judge Lawrence Powers read the statements. Failure to appear.

Loud murmuring echoed in the courtroom as the docket was announced for trials and room assignments.

The forty-five year old judge slammed his gavel down. Order! I’ll have order!

The rumbling quieted as lawyers discussed cases with defendants and uniformed cops lingered together, overtime slips in their hands.

The judge continued working from his schedule. Next case… Simon versus the County of Bradford.

The defense is ready, Your Honor.

The prosecution is ready.

Judge Powers met the gaze of the public defender and his client. Courtroom two.

Thank you, Your Honor.

The judge read the next name on the list. McMullen bench trial.

The defense is ready to accept a plea, Your Honor.

Judge Powers knocked the gavel. Meet in room 110.

Thank you, Your Honor.

The young man who stood with his lawyer gave Lawrence a steely stare.

The judge hid his amusement. He’d been glared at by scarier men than him. That was the last name on the list. He signaled to his bailiff he was ready to leave the courtroom.

All rise! was yelled over the noise.

Judge Powers stood and left the courtroom, stopping in his chambers first before presiding over his cases.

~

He looks like a prick.

Charlie… be quiet. Sharice Campbell held her briefcase and gestured for him to go first, out of the doors in the back of the room.

Twenty-two year old Charlie McMullen stuffed his hands into his jean’s pockets. He walked with his lawyer to a conference room, one used for bench trials. Since he and his lawyer opted to forgo a jury, they were now at the judge’s mercy after offering a plea.

Charlie ran his hand over his long brown hair and opened the door. The air inside the room smelled like dust or wood, and it was warm even though the fall had brought cooler temperatures.

He took a seat as Sharice opened her briefcase and removed paperwork. Charlie looked at his nails and tried to clean under them, since he was bored and angry.

The door opened and a man in a suit entered the room. It was the prosecutor they had been working with, one that represented the county.

Hi, Sharice.

Hi, Dean.

Charlie glared at the man. It felt as if the world was out to get him, because he didn’t do anything wrong.

Dean set his briefcase down as well, and the two attorneys removed their files while they waited for the judge.

Charlie listened to the lawyers talking with each other about a deferred sentence, a plea… no jail time…

He sighed and sank in the hard wooden chair.

~

Judge Powers read the brief while in his chambers. He drank from a cup of coffee and then slipped his reading glasses into his pocket. A small five by seven frame was near his phone; his wife, Wynn, and three children; Bo; twenty, Lynn; seventeen, and Lee; fifteen.

He stood from his desk, straightened his black robe, and picked up the file. Leaving his chambers, he walked down a hallway to the conference room. The sterile corridor echoed with the noise of loud conversations, footfalls, and slamming doors.

He opened a door as a court reporter scurried towards him. He waited for her, allowing her to pass through first.

Thank you, judge.

No problem, Lois.

The two attorneys in the room stood at his arrival. He watched as Sharice tapped the young man, gesturing for him to stand.

He did, but didn’t meet Lawrence’s gaze. Lawrence took his seat at the head of the table and Lois sat down behind her stenotype at his left.

Everyone sat down as Lawrence put his reading glasses on and read the charge; possession of a controlled substance.

He reviewed the young man’s rap-sheet. There was nothing on it except one juvenile arrest for breaking a streetlight with a rock. And, since it wasn’t an arrest, and just a police contact, that would soon to be deleted from his file.

Judge Lawrence gestured to his prosecutor, Dean Johnson. Why don’t we begin?

Thank you, Your Honor. Counsel and I have reached an agreement.

Lawrence tried to gain the young man’s gaze, but he was staring at the table. What have you agreed on?

Credit for time served and fifty hours of community service.

Ms Campbell added, I’d like this purged from his record so it won’t interfere with Mr McMullen becoming gainfully employed.

Lawrence addressed Dean, You agree to having this content purged from his record?

I do, Your Honor. Mr McMullen claims the baggie of cannabis was not his, and it was under twenty grams. There was no attempt to distribute.

Lawrence looked at the young man. Do you have anything to say for yourself?

Charlie cleared his throat and sat up higher in the chair. It wasn’t mine. How many times do I have to say it?

Do you have a drug problem, Charlie?

No! He lowered his voice, No, sir.

Do you live alone? Lawrence rested his arms on the table.

No. I live with my older brother. He’s twenty-seven.

Lawrence addressed Sharice, Where are his parents?

His father is incarcerated in Calistoga and his mother died of an overdose.

The news didn’t sit well with Lawrence. Are you enrolled in college?

I can’t afford college.

Are you working?

Not full time, sir.

Who will make sure Mr McMullen is looked after?

Your Honor, Sharice replied, Mr McMullen is twenty-two and states he is capable of looking after himself.

Lawrence studied this young man, his long brown hair, and powder blue eyes. Give me a minute with him alone.

The attorneys exchanged glances and stood. Lawrence gestured for the court reporter to leave as well.

~

Charlie wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. While the two attorneys left, Charlie inhaled deeply, calming himself.

The judge removed his reading glasses and his gaze felt as if it went right through him. He gulped in anxiety.

~

Once he was left alone with this young man, Lawrence spoke softly, Do you and your brother get along?

Sort of.

Lawrence fanned through his paperwork to read the home address of this youth. He knew the neighborhood and wasn’t impressed. Am I to believe you have no other living relative to look after you?

I’m twenty-two! Charlie appeared sheepish immediately. Sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.

Lawrence studied him, gnawing on the temple end of his glasses. Do you have a drug habit?

No. The weed wasn’t mine.

If I had a dollar for every time someone told me the dope wasn’t theirs…

Do you own a car?

Why?

I want to know how you’re going to perform the community service.

I’ll figure it out.

Did you finish high-school?

Yes.

What do you want to do with your life?

I can’t decide.

If you could go to college, would you?

I’m not sure.

Lawrence was granted the gaze of those light blue eyes. In them was fear and rejection. After putting his glasses on, he reviewed the plea, including the community service clause. He picked up his pen and crossed out a line, then added one of his own.

~

Charlie didn’t lie. The weed was his brother’s friend’s. He was just stupid enough to be the one holding it when they were caught.

He toyed with his long hair, twirling it around his finger as he watched this man in a robe write on his paperwork.

The judge rose to his feet and called the other three back into the room. They took their seats.

Charlie shifted in his chair nervously and tried not to bite his nails.

I’ve amended the community service to read ‘terms of service shall be at my discretion’. He gave each of the attorneys a copy.

They read his input.

Both initialed it.

Charlie, Lawrence addressed him, I want you to understand how serious this is. Today can be a turning point for you. If you decide to follow one path, you will be a productive member of our society. If you choose to go down a different path, your future will be one of incarceration and heartbreak.

Yes, sir.

The judge gestured for Sharice to speak to him.

Charlie fidgeted in his chair.

Sharice said, Charlie, Judge Powers has updated your community service. He has asked for you to do work for him and be paid.

Charlie blinked and looked at the judge.

You’ll receive fifteen dollars an hour for services which may include yard work, washing cars, simple handyman tasks and/or domestic errands. Do you agree?

Charlie took another look at the judge; the big man with the steely green eyes and dark black hair. He wants me to work for him?

Yes. All the details will be discussed with you.

And, if I say yes, I get a clean record and no other community service?

Yes.

Then, I agree.

The paperwork was passed around for signatures.

Charlie signed it and then smiled to himself, happy he wasn’t going to be picking up trash on a highway somewhere.

When the judge rose to his feet, the lawyers did as well. Charlie scrambled to stand and the judge left the room.

He exhaled loudly as the lawyers discussed the results, and they were laughing softly.

Charlie perked up and tried to get a read on the situation. What’s so funny?

He must like you, kid. The prosecutor picked up his papers. He usually tosses possession suspects into prison with a mandatory sentence and throws away the key. He winked at Sharice and she smiled at him. Good luck. He shook Charlie’s hand and left the room.

Charlie waited for Sharice. Thanks. I can’t imagine a better result than that.

Just go where he needs you. If you don’t show up he’s going to probably send you to jail for violating the agreement.

I will. Promise.

Let’s file these papers and get you out of here. She held the door for him.

Charlie glanced down the long corridor and spotted the judge on his way out of the building. The older man opened a metal door and then turned to look his way. They met gazes and then the judge vanished.

~

By four-thirty, Lawrence hung his robe up on a tree rack in his chambers. He gathered paperwork from his desk, upcoming cases he needed to review, and filled his valise. Taking a last look around, Lawrence turned off the light and headed out of the courthouse. As he went, staff and police officers wished him a good weekend.

A cool October afternoon greeted him as the daylight became shorter and trees changed colors, welcoming the end of summer.

His black Audi was parked in his reserved spot. He sat behind the wheel and drove home, his mind preoccupied with his caseload.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled into his driveway of his five-bedroom/six-bathroom split-level home. His oldest son was away at college, his daughter was in her senior year of high-school, and his youngest son was a sophomore in the same school.

Halloween decorations adorned his porch since his wife, Wynn, enjoyed making the house festive.

He parked and as he exited his car he noticed his lawn was covered in leaves from the mature elms and maples on his property.

The air smelled like wood smoke, a pleasant scent, cozy and welcoming. He entered the home and set his briefcase down in his study.

On his way to his bedroom he heard the TV on in the basement where they had a den, as well as the sound of Wynn preparing supper. Lawrence removed his business suit and hung it up, changing into running shorts and a T-shirt. He washed up and relieved himself in the master bath, and then put on white socks and running shoes.

Lawrence?

He checked his phone and then met his wife in the kitchen.

Oh. Are you running? she asked, wearing a potholder mitt and holding a wooden spoon.

Yes.

How long will you be?

Less than an hour. He picked up a baseball cap and put it on his head.

Must you go now?

I must. He headed to the front door and left, jogging in the crisp cool air, loving this time of year. As he ran he cleared his mind of his week of work and enjoyed the exercise. Since he’d been in the marines he kept fit, weightlifting, punching a bag, and running.

~

After riding the bus, Charlie walked down his street, noticing Halloween decorations appearing on the neighboring homes. He made his way to his brother’s apartment building and used his key in the lobby door. Once inside he checked the secure mailbox, seeing it was empty, which meant his brother, Henry, was probably home.

Taking the stairs, Charlie held the banister and climbed them two at a time, then walked along the grimy hall to his unit door. He used his key once more and as he entered the small one bedroom/one bathroom home, he heard talking. He stepped inside the living room and spotted his brother with his girlfriend, Jasmine.

Hi, Charlie. She waved.

Hi. He toed off his shoes and stood at the kitchen sink to wash his hands.

You hungry? she asked.

Yup.

How did court go? Henry asked, seated at their folding table, drinking soda.

Charlie dried his hands and took a can of pop out of the fridge. Okay. All I got was community service.

I don’t know why they didn’t just dismiss it. Jasmine set a colander into the sink and drained a pot of spaghetti.

For weed, do you believe that? Henry shook his head. It should be legal in every state. It’s just fucked up.

Charlie set his soda pop on the table. Do you need help, Jaz?

Nah. I’ve got it. She stirred bottled sauce into the spaghetti pot.

Charlie headed to the den, which had been converted into a bedroom for him. He shut the door and changed into sweats and a hoodie. He set the paperwork down on his single bed and as he dressed he read the details of his plea bargain.

It was better than jail. Way better.

And the irony was, his lawyer had said this judge was tough on drug offenders. He was lucky he’d gotten off easy.

~

Lawrence ran five miles and sprinted on the homestretch. He paused on his porch and caught his breath, taking off his ball cap and looking up through the trees to the stars in the sky. Once he’d recovered from the run, he removed his shoes and entered his house.

When he noticed his family eating dinner without him, he grew annoyed. After dropping his shoes and cap off in the mudroom, Lawrence stood at the kitchen threshold. You couldn’t wait for me?

Hi, Dad. Lynn had her phone at the table, which was another no-no.

I didn’t want the meal to overcook. Wynn kept eating.

His youngest son, Lee, gave him a sheepish look.

Lawrence headed to the master bathroom to shower. The little irritations of this family shouldn’t have mattered, but, he was the man of the house, didn’t that count anymore?

He stripped off his clothing and started the water running in shower. As he waited for it to warm, he looked into the mirror.

Gray hair was beginning to show at his temples, but he had managed to keep marine-fit. He touched his jaw, feeling the coarse stubble, and stepped into the tub, decompressing under the water’s spray.

He should be happy.

He had everything he had set out to achieve.

…but, he wasn’t happy.

Chapter 2

Saturday morning, Charlie chewed on a piece of toast while standing in their galley kitchen. The dishes from last night were in the sink, soaking and a little crusty. He used the microwave to heat up water, mixing in powdered coffee, and drank it down.

Wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt, plus his beige work boots, Charlie brushed the crumbs off his hands and made sure he had bus fare.

Wearing his gray hoodie, his phone charged and inside his pocket, Charlie closed the door to the unit and jogged down the stairs. The sky was overcast and the wind felt cold.

He zipped his hoodie, tugged up the hood, and walked to the bus stop. As he stood with his back to the wind, Charlie yawned and rubbed his eyes. The bus pulled up to the stop, and he dropped coins into the slot and asked, Can I get a transfer?

The driver handed him one and Charlie sat in the back, his foot on the metal seat in front of him.

~

Standing in his spotless kitchen, Lawrence filled his mug with coffee. After waking early and punching a bag which he had hanging in his garage, Lawrence had showered and dressed in faded jeans and a long-sleeved black pullover.

His mug in his hand, he sipped the strong coffee and moved through the home to stare out of the front window.

It looked like it may rain, but the clouds may burn off before they soaked the land. He loved this time of year and wished the temperatures would be this mild all year long.

He checked the time on his gold watch and then leaned closer to his front window. When he spotted a lone hooded figure walking down the street, he wondered if it was Charlie.

As the youth turned down his front path, Lawrence walked to his door and opened it.

Charlie’s large blue eyes peered out from under his hood.

Lawrence opened the door for him. Come in.

His hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, Charlie entered, but didn’t move into the room, standing still.

Do you want a cup of coffee?

Charlie shrugged.

Lawrence gestured for him to follow. He set his own mug on the counter and took a mug from the cupboard, pouring coffee for Charlie. He handed it to him. Cream or sugar?