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This place was a cesspool, full of scum, rapists, addicts, and abusers.
There was no way in hell I wanted Meyah anywhere near this place and these assholes. I didn’t want to see them leering at her, eyeing her like their next meal. And I knew if I’d fought for her like I should have, and told her the truth, she would have been here every single week visiting.
If that had been the case, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have been getting out of here any time soon because I probably would have murdered more than one of these bastards for looking at her sideways.
A palm slammed against my back, forcing my body into the door in front of me, knocking the breath from my lungs and forcing my forehead to slam against it.
“Oops,” Kent scoffed, forcing me to the side and turning the handle, pushing it open and holding it as I stepped into the small meeting room. “Sorry about that, buddy.” He patted me on the back, chuckling to himself.
“More bruises,” my lawyer Matt hissed as he stood from the small desk in the center of the room. That and two chairs were the only décor. When we had lawyer visits, we were always given a private room—client confidentiality and all that. “I thought I expressed last time I was here I’d have to take matters further if I suspected you weren’t looking after him like you should be.”
Kent scoffed and rolled his eyes as he yanked me around so that he could uncuff me. “You know these inmates. They’re rough. There’s not much we can do about it.” He took the handcuffs, leaving me rubbing my wrists. “I could always put your boy here in isolation.”
Matt wasn’t one to take any bullshit, but he also knew when to stop because these guys could make my life a living hell—more than it was already—and at this point, it wasn’t worth his breath to try and fight them.
“I’ll let you know when we’re done,” Matt snapped, his lip twitching in anger as Kent sauntered toward the door without a care in the world, slamming it shut behind him. “You think you can keep yourself from killing that asshole until I get you out of here?”
I dropped into the pathetic little metal chair and huffed out a laugh. “It’s gonna be touch and go, but if you can promise to get me out soon, I might be able to hold out a little longer.”
He shook his head and lifted his briefcase on to the table, working on the latches. “I could have their asses for this, you know. Once you’ve been proven innocent, I could haul each and every one of them into a fucking courtroom and have their badges taken for the way they’ve treated you.” He looked up and studied my face. I knew he was looking at the black eye which was beginning to yellow, and what I imagined was a big red mark on my forehead from being slammed into the door just outside. He wasn’t stupid, he’d been doing this for longer than some of these fuckers had been alive. I didn’t doubt that if Matt wanted to take them down, he could do precisely that.
“I’ve got other plans for Kent.” I couldn’t stop the smirk that pulled at the corner of my mouth when I thought about what I was going to do to that little bitch when I got out of here. Sure, some of these guys in here deserved to be treated like trash for what they’d done, but there were also guys in here who needed help, and someone who gave a shit about turning their life around so they didn’t end up back here. They didn’t need some punk on a power trip treating them like they weren’t worth the shit on his shoe.
I was gonna take this shit to the club.
When I was done, there would be changes.
And my buddy, Kent, would more than likely be a missing person who they would never find.
“Good,” Matt agreed with a sharp nod. “Now, I’ll pretend like I didn’t hear that. Let’s talk about your court date. It’s set for next Thursday.”
I pressed my lips together as a shock swarmed through me. “Okay. And how’s it looking?”
He reached into his suitcase and pulled out a couple of photos, placing them on the table in front of me. They were dark and a little grainy. I squinted and leaned in closer to view them as he explained what I was looking at. “At every entrance to the national park, they have cameras. They’re important in case of damage to the cabins, and things like arson so they can keep track of who’s going in and out because, for the most part, people use the vehicle tracks andwalking tracks.” He said the last part with emphasis, knowing that Romeo had, in fact, walked in using the walking track to the cabin and that the sheriff would have too.
My brothers and I, we had not.
I sat a little taller, picking up one of the photos in my hand.
You couldn’t see the person’s face. A dark, plain black hoodie pulled down over it, casting a shadow which stopped his facial features being identifiable. As he moved past the camera, the left side of his body was completely visible. He held a gun in his hand, one they would easily be able to prove was mine given the photos were taken right by the cabin where the sheriff died.
“Okay, so these are going to help?” I questioned, not quite understanding.
Matt grinned. “Compare your left hand to the left hand holding the gun in the photo.”
I looked down at my hand, rolling it over, so the palm was flat on the table while I held the picture in my right hand. Looking between them, I started to smile. In the photo, you could clearly see clean skin from just above the wrist. It was completely untouched. But mine? Tattooed.
I had ink that came down and covered my wrist and the top part of my hand. If this picture had been of me, my tats would have been clearly visible in the photo.
Romeo on the other hand, he had a sleeve too, but on the opposite arm, the one that couldn’t be seen on camera.
I sat a little straighter. “Fingerprints?”
Matt shook his head. “The gun was pulled from a burning building, for one. And two, there were multiple sets of fingerprints on the gun. Some that were in the system, others that weren’t, and a few partials which they couldn’t do much with.”
I nodded. “We used it recently when we were shooting out back of the clubhouse. There would have likely been over ten people use it that day.” Matt instantly dropped his head and scribbled down a few notes on a pad, taking down what I was saying. I was starting to feel the tension in my body release. “So this is looking good?”
Matt’s grin told me just how confident he was, as he pulled more papers from his briefcase. “Autopsy report.” He placed the paperwork in front of me.
