Jordan seemed to have the perfect life. He was the most popular auto mechanic in town, he already had his house paid off, and he had several luxury cars sitting in the driveway. His bank account was growing more by the minute.
Though Jordan could have had any girl he wanted, he didn't like the idea of commitment, so he usually picked up married women for sex. He never thought of the trouble this may bring.
While fucking his favorite married lady, Gwendolyn, from behind, they were interrupted by the slam of her front door. Jordan had barely had time to zip his pants when the angry husband burst into the bedroom. Gwendolyn tried to cover herself as the buff real estate agent came towards her with every intent of choking the life out of her.
"You are nothing but a cheap, lying piece of trash whore!" The man shouted angrily.
Jordan stepped in front of the man, pushing him back to keep him from physically assaulting his slutty wife.
"Take your goddamned hands off of me!"
The man shoved Jordan with such force that he took the bedroom door almost completely off the hinges. Jordan's back ached terribly from the fall, but he lifted himself from the floor and went back for more. He balled up his fist and punched the husband in the jaw, sending him stumbling over the bedside table. Before he could get up, Jordan slammed his fist into his face and head three more times.
Realizing Gwendolyn was no longer in the room and her husband was unconscious, Jordan decided to leave while he had the chance, hoping she had done the same. He felt his heart pounding inside his chest as he galloped down the stairs and stormed out the door. He was shocked to see that Gwendolyn's car was already gone.
Before he could open his truck door, he was thrown to the ground by police officers and arrested for aggravated assault, trespassing, and breaking and entering.
As it turned out, Gwendolyn had made the call to the police that had landed him in jail. He was able to bond out, but it wasn't over. He would need a damn good attorney before he went to court on the charges.
The next day after he posted bail, he visited several attorney offices before deciding on Keith Hughe. His sign read that he was a criminal defense attorney with fifteen years experience.
Jordan's hands trembled nervously as he walked into the large brick building that was shared by three attorneys. As he sat in the waiting area making small talk with the hot secretary, he wondered if he would have enough money to pay his way out of everything.
"Right this way, sir." Jordan followed the secretary into the attorney's cozy office.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Vasquez," the handsome attorney greeted him. "How can I help you?"
Jordan handed the stack of papers to the lawyer, searching his face for some sign of reassurance. Mr. Hughe's bright blue eyes were filled with concern.
"You're looking at around five years if Mrs.