Page 130 of Matlock
Freddie was waiting near the office door, a small room adjacent to the clerk’s desk. He looked up when he saw us, his face lighting up the moment he saw Simon.
“Well, well, well,” Freddie said, leaning against the doorframe. “If it isn’t the man of the hour. Heard the charges got dropped. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Simon replied, his smile polite but distant.
“Let’s get that monitor off you,” Freddie said, gesturing us into the small office. “Can’t have you walking around with that thing now that you’re a free man.”
He gestured for Simon to sit in one of the plastic chairs near the wall, and Simon complied. I stood off to the side, my arms crossed over my chest, watching.
Freddie knelt down in front of Simon, his hands reaching for the monitor around Simon’s ankle. “This won’t take long,” he said, his fingers brushing against Simon’s skin as he worked.
My jaw clenched.
“So,” Freddie said, glancing up at Simon with a grin. “Now that you’re free, maybe we could grab a drink sometime. Celebrate properly.”
Simon laughed, actually fucking laughed, and said, “Maybe.”
Maybe?
The muscles in my arms flexed against my chest.
Freddie’s grin widened. “I’ll take that as a yes.” His fingers lingered on Simon’s ankle, tracing the line where the monitor had been. “You’ve got great skin, you know that? Smooth.”
Simon’s cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head. “Thanks.”
I wanted to kill him.
I wanted to grab Freddie by the back of his neck and slam his face into the wall until he stopped fucking touching what was mine.
But I couldn’t.
Because Simon wasn’t mine. Not publicly. Not in a way that mattered.
Freddie finally removed the monitor, setting it aside on the desk. But instead of standing up, he stayed kneeling in front of Simon, his hand resting on Simon’s calf.
“You know,” Freddie said, his voice dropping lower, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot since the last time I saw you.”
Simon’s eyes flicked to me, then back to Freddie. “Have you?”
“Yeah,” Freddie said, his thumb rubbing small circles against Simon’s leg. “You’re hard to forget.”
A low growl rumbled in my chest before I could stop it.
Freddie glanced over at me, his expression innocent. “Something wrong, counselor?”
“Get your fucking hands off him,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.
Freddie raised his hands in mock surrender, standing up. “Relax, man. I was just being friendly.”
“Be friendly somewhere else,” I snapped.
Simon stood, his expression unreadable. “Thanks for taking the monitor off, Freddie.”
“Anytime,” Freddie said, his gaze lingering on Simon. “And seriously, think about that drink.”
Simon smiled and said, “I will.”
I grabbed Simon’s arm and pulled him toward the door, my grip tight enough to make him stumble.
