PART 2
The knock came at exactly 6:00 AM the following morning.
Two detectives stood outside: Roosevelt Kent, a Black man in his fifties with weary eyes, and Sue Shepard, a sharp-featured woman in her thirties. Julian opened the door in his bathrobe, coffee cup in hand, as though he’d been expecting them.
“Mr. Vance, we need to speak with you about an incident that occurred at Titan’s Forge gym yesterday.”
“Come in.” Julian motioned them toward the kitchen.
Eleanor stood beside the counter, wearing the composed, sharp expression of a woman who’d spent the previous night making calls, gathering medical records, and preparing for exactly this moment.
Detective Kent opened his notebook. “Four men are currently hospitalized. Perry Cox suffered a fractured jaw and broken ribs. Lamar Duncan has internal bleeding. Brenton Cantrell has a ruptured eardrum. Andres White’s knee has been destroyed. Dustin Freeman has a concussion, a broken nose, and seven missing teeth.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Julian replied evenly, taking a slow sip.
“Multiple witnesses recorded you assaulting these men.”
“Self-defense. Five men surrounded me and threatened me. One of them approached me with a weapon. I defended myself.”
Sue Shepard leaned forward. “Mr. Vance, these men are claiming—”
“These men put my daughter in the hospital with a concussion and bruised ribs,” Julian cut in firmly. “I have the emergency intake records and witness statements. Dustin Freeman has a history of assault charges and domestic violence. I confronted him because he hurt my daughter. He and his associates attacked me. I neutralized the threat with the minimum force my training permitted.”
Kent’s expression shifted slightly. “Your training?”
“Fifteen years. Marine Corps hand-to-hand combat instructor. Fourth-degree black belt. I taught at Quantico. Before that, I served in Force Recon. Three combat deployments. Would you like to see my service record?”
The two detectives traded a long glance. Kent cleared his throat.
“Mr. Freeman’s uncle, Royce Clark, has filed a complaint. He wants us to arrest you for aggravated assault.”
“Royce Clark.” Julian took another sip of coffee. “Head of the Southside Vipers. Illicit markets, illegal gambling, racketeering. I’m surprised he’s interested in attracting police attention.”
Sue narrowed her eyes. “What do you know about Royce Clark?”
Julian set his mug on the counter with a soft clink. “I know he thinks a street gang makes him untouchable. And I know he’s about to find out that some lines aren’t meant to be crossed.”
