Philanthropy Pt. 01

"It is a big deal. She is their daughter and you influenced her outside their consent."

"She's an adult! Eighteen!"

"And still in private school, living with mom and dad, and dependent on them. With the right judge this could go badly for you if they sue you." She took my hand and held it, stroking my palm. She was still watching my penis move around.

I laughed. "On what grounds?"

"Emotional distress? Influencing a minor?"

I laughed at the absurdity of it.

"You laugh now but wait and see. It doesn't have to make sense. It just needs great lawyers who can pitch the case to the right ears."

I frowned. "So, what do I do?"

"Distance yourself. Record everything you say with them. I mean everything. Make sure they know you are recording them, okay? Tell them. Don't engage them in anything if you can help it."

"Hmm. I wish I knew what they did at their last condo."

"Alice Cartwell."

"Say what?"

"You heard me. I'll say nothing more. What now?"

"Now I need to find me some pussy. Seriously. I need pussy bad at the moment."

"Sorry baby."

"I know. I know. Not your fault. Congrats on the marriage. Are you registered?"

"Thanks, and yes I am. Your secretary knows the details."

"She does, does she?"

"Of course. She's your Pepper Pots."

"True. Listen, I'm sure your registry is full of wonderful things, but you know me. What do you really need? Tell me?"

Amber leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Ask Pepper."

I nodded. "Okay. I love you, Amber. You okay?" I looked into her eyes and they twinkled back at me.

"Yeah, baby. Love you, too. I needed that. You understand, right?"

I nodded and held her.

* * *

Amber suggested we pre-empt the Carvers. She suggested I sue them for defamation and for child abandonment. It sounded ludicrous to me, but I nodded. It didn't take long. The papers were served, and I sat back to watch what would happen. It was all between lawyers and I had nothing to do other than sign some statements.

They counter-sued, of course. It was exactly as Amber had said. I was being sued for causing emotional distress and influencing a minor. The wording was borderline suggesting I had assaulted their daughter. Nothing was remotely accurate or factual in their paperwork. It was all fabrication but would come down to my story versus theirs. Civil actions are normally quick. I had three weeks to reply to their complaint. They had two weeks left to respond to mine.

Amber was somewhat pleased. She said their suit would now appear to be retaliation to my civil action and that most courts do not go kindly with retaliatory suits. She warned me the district court judge had not yet been determined and if the wrong one was picked, it would go badly for me.

Amber responded for me, denying all accusations. She prepared the paperwork for my suit and presented all our evidence supporting our position. She suspected this would go to trial rather soon and to be prepared.

She was not wrong. In two months, I was standing in a courtroom. The judge made his decision quickly and dismissed the Carvers' suit. He then said there was not enough evidence to support my suit and that was also dismissed. We were then all chastised by the judge for thirty minutes about wasting the courts' precious time.

The Carvers stormed out of the courtroom, shooting daggers at me with their eyes. This was not over, and Amber said as much.

I hoped it was and went back to my life.

* * *

It wasn't soon after that I discovered just how much the Carvers were in league with the underworld in the city. Here's where I fucked up: I follow a set routine. How I go about my business, and my coming and going from the condo and my work—it's all routine. It was my downfall one early wet and cold Tuesday morning.

I left my condo and walked up the street to cross the park on my way to my favourite little coffee shop. I had my head down, rainproof jacket on with the hood pulled up, and I wasn't watching where I was going. I had my music playing loudly in my ear buds and I was entering a dark area of the park where the streets are obscured by thick bushes and trees.

I was struck from behind, right in the head. I went down like a lightweight. I saw stars, heard a loud roaring sound in my ears and hit the ground like I was a puppet with my strings cut. I hit the ground face first, unable to even move my arms to soften the blow. I lay there dazed and not able to think when the first blows landed.

At least two people, wearing hard pointy shoes, kicked the living shit out of me. It hurt but after a bit it stopped hurting and I just wanted it to end. To be over. It took forever and they finally stopped.

One of the men couldn't resist and he whispered into my ear. "The Carvers send their regards..."

Darkness took me away.

* * *

I woke in the hospital bandaged from head to toe. I should have died, and I was meant to, I think. Most of my ribs were cracked or broken. I had a perforated lung and kidney and a bad concussion that required them to wake me constantly. They talked about draining my skull to relieve the pressure. I declined it and lay stoically in pain, taking minimum pain meds. I underwent three surgeries.

I was front page news across the continent and all over the news agencies. Reporters kept trying to sneak into my private hospital bed until finally I was moved back to my condo with a live-in nurse named Betty. She looked like a 1920s flapper and she was a hot blond with huge tits, round ass, and a tight waist. I adored her and flirted constantly with her.

My friends were a constant stream of people coming to see me. I told Amber what the attacker had whispered to me and she went pale and rushed away. I hadn't told the police. I hadn't seen anything and the cameras near the park hadn't caught the attack. They did show me entering the park and three dark dressed guys following me in and emerging sometime later. They were never found, and the case was simply never going to be solved.

I was angry because I could have defended myself had I known the attack was coming. They dropped me and kicked the shit out of me. Had I been more aware of my surroundings, it would be the three men in here or the morgue. I am that confident in my abilities. But they got the drop on me and put me down. Thankfully, my level of fitness spared me. I should have died. But I didn't.

It took six long weeks for my ribs and skull to heal. I did physio and Tai Chi and slowly got my health back. Betty helped me and we grew close.

When I fucked the shit out of my nurse Betty, she declared me healed and left the next day. She was lovely and tasted of peaches. Nurses are really dirty in bed, by the way. They see so much shit at work that nothing phases them. I won't tell you what we did, just that she was so fucking dirty. I looked into her and had her student loans closed. It was the least I could do for her. She really helped me, especially during some really dark times.

As I lay convalescing my mind was at work full time dreaming up how to seek revenge. There was one thing I knew: they couldn't see it coming. Not from me, anyway. And they would suspect it and be looking for it. I called up Amber and asked her to come over. She refused, but we spoke. She gave me some names and wished me luck and had me promise to keep her out of it. She was accepting the DA job and couldn't be seen getting her hands dirty. I wished her well, thanked her, and hung up. She promised me another lawyer, nearly as good as her, and one willing to take the D in any hole.

I made my first phone call just as nurse Betty kissed my cheek and left with her belongings. She walked a little funny and I smirked knowing why. My ass hurt, too. I wished I could see her face when she found out I had cleared her loans. I loved those moments.

The phone rang twice and then picked up. "Hello?" came a soft elderly female voice.

"Hi, is this Alice Cartwell?"

"Yes, it is. Who is asking?"

"Hi Alice, you don't know me, but we both know Amber, my lawyer. She suggested off the record that I contact you."

There was a long pause before Alice spoke. "Is this about the Carvers?"

"Yes, it is. I want to take them down."

"When can you come over?"

"How does this afternoon sound?"

"Perfect. Condo 1213. Ring the door and I'll buzz you up. You're the fellow that got beat up, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Amber told me about you. Bless her heart. I'll be waiting."