The Wolf's Surrender

Grey gathered up his papers, strode past the bailiff, then retreated to his chambers. The second the door was closed, he removed his black robe. He ran a hand through his hair.

He was agitated. He didn’t get agitated. Judges needed to be cool, calm and collected. They needed to be focused. They had to be able to sit for long periods of time without moving, their minds sharp, their knowledge of the law indisputable.

Grey approached every case as an important one. And every person who left his courtroom, be it drunks, petty thieves or those accused of far more serious crimes, got a crash course about the price he extracted from anyone who chose to break the law.

Judge Grey Colton had no regard or patience for dishonesty, and he’d never met an honest criminal. Lawbreakers made the world a dismal place. Except in very rare instances, there was no excuse for what they did. If it were possible to send all criminals to an island and let them prey on each other, America would need fewer judges. It didn’t work that way. Criminals tended to be repeat offenders, and they preyed on innocent people. It was the innocent people Grey had vowed to protect. It was why he’d become a judge. Ultimately, it was the reason he had his sights set on a position on the Oklahoma State Supreme Court.

He’d charted his path in his early twenties. He was still on course a dozen years later.

He strode to the supple leather couch. For some reason, he wound up studying his hands. They didn’t look any different; the palms were broad, his fingers squared at the tips. He’d held a child in them as she’d taken her first breath.

Until that moment, he’d thought that pounding a gavel was the most important function his hands could perform. He’d said it best to Kelly himself. He was no doctor. And he didn’t want to become one. He didn’t.

He liked what he did. He believed in what he did. He was good at what he did. He was agitated. That was all. And it had something to do with that baby. And perhaps her mother.

Kelly Madison had made herself clear. If he ever needed a kidney, she’d said, come see her. In other words, she would never forget what he’d done, but in everyday life, she was a defense attorney and he was a judge. She was a sunny sky. He was a gray storm. He was oil. She was a refreshing sip of water on a warm day. Oil and water didn’t mix.

He went to his desk and sat down. He opened a folder and scanned a document. His gaze trailed to the wallet lying in the corner near his green desk lamp. The cleaning service had been here overnight. Evidently, they’d discovered the wallet under a cushion.

He picked up Kelly Madison’s wallet, only to return it to the desk. He already knew what was inside. Her address for one thing, and a credit card and driver’s license.

He was reaching for the phone to call a messenger service to deliver it to her, when the phone rang beneath his hand. “Judge Colton,” he said.

“They’re kicking me out.”

He recognized that smooth, lilting voice. “Who is?” he asked.

“The hospital,” Kelly said. “They’re sending me home.”

“You don’t want to go home?”

“I want to. I’m scared to death, but my parents are due to arrive later this evening. It isn’t that. It’s just that none of my friends are at their desks, and my keys are still locked in my car. I would call a cab, but I seem to have lost my wallet. And I know what I said about you and me and business, but I didn’t know who else to call.” She took an audible breath. “They’re kicking me out. Something about insurance.”