Renegade Path

No matter how hard the cops tried to break me, I wouldn’t give up Ulfric and the others. Cops asked me about other crimes I might have witnessed—even the guy Dex had beaten the shit out of last year. That one got an eyebrow raise out of me. But still, I stayed silent.

So many different cops asked so many different questions, I started to wonder if the Wolf Knights had set it up as some sort of fucked-up loyalty test.

Finally, I was tossed in a cell.

Exhausted, I thanked whatever higher power had placed me by myself. I climbed into the bottom bunk and stretched out on the blanket, feeling the metal coils beneath the mattress poke into my ribs.

County jail was considerably nicer than the Castle, so that was a bonus.

I’d need to keep to myself and watch my back harder than ever in here, though.

Days dragged on forever. At least at the Castle, they’d pretended to have some activities that would keep us entertained. Chores to do. This was relentless boredom. On the plus side, so far, I hadn’t been thrown into any gladiator rings and told to fight for my life.

“Hawkins,” someone shouted.

I blinked awake.

“Hawkins!” the CO shouted over the din of the Ironworks County Jail. He banged a metal rod against the bars. “Let’s go! Your lawyer’s here to see you.”

I yawned and stretched. My overly eager, recently graduated public defender never had any good news. I wasn’t even sure he’d passed the bar yet.

I was royally fucked.

I shuffled into the interview room and stared at a man I didn’t recognize. Now he looked like a criminal defense attorney. Sharp and a shade slimy. Turning to the guard, I shook my head. “He’s not my lawyer. There’s been a mistake.”

“Barry Hansen.” The man stepped forward and offered his hand. “I was hired by a friend of yours to represent you, Mr. Hawkins.”

“Juliet?” Damn her, I told her to forget about me. No matter how you looked at it, I was facing a long prison sentence. There was no point in her wasting money hiring an expensive lawyer for my hopeless case.

“No.” He flashed a warm smile. “A family friend who prefers to be anonymous.”

Had to be Dex or Ulfric. They probably wanted to make sure I’d keep my mouth shut. And if the lawyer sensed I was about to snitch, I bet he’d report back to whoever was paying his bills. One day I’d be headed to the dining area, and someone would shove a makeshift knife made from a toothbrush and razor blade between my ribs.

“Okay.” I studied him while I slowly took a seat. The guard left us to talk in private, closing the door behind him.

“I have a meeting with the district attorney on Monday,” Mr. Hansen said. “From what I’ve been hearing, they’re willing to offer a plea deal.”

“What do I have to do in exchange?” I asked warily.

“They might want you to tell them who else you—”

“No.”

His mouth twitched and he scribbled down a few notes. “Let me talk to him first before we make any decisions. You’re a young man, Roman. You’ve got options.”

“Snitching isn’t one of those options.”

I might as well hang myself with my bedsheets now if I planned to snitch.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Roman

A week later I was cuffed and shackled, tossed into an Ironworks County Correctional van, and driven to the County Courthouse for a meeting with my attorney.

The guards brought me in through a back entrance. I kept my gaze glued to my feet. Not out of shame. The shackles hurt like fuck, messed with my balance, and dug into my ankle bones with every shuffle.

Mr. Hansen was waiting in a small room and stood when I entered. The guards uncuffed my wrists, unshackled my feet, and shoved me into a chair.

“What’s going on, Mr. Hansen?” I asked after he shook my hand.

A brief smile flitted over his face. “You can call me Barry. I’m not sure how or why, but the DA is dropping the charges.” He frowned and studied the folder in front of him.

Cops had a solid case. Caught me red-handed. I understood Barry’s confusion.

I clenched a mental fist around any hope threatening to materialize in my chest. No point getting excited. I wouldn’t believe it until I was a free man. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what I was told.” Another wrinkle formed between his brows. “It’s unusual for the district attorney himself to handle a case like this.”

I didn’t know anything about how that worked, but I’d take his word for it.

“There has been minimal media attention and Tony’s already got the next election locked down,” he muttered to himself.

None of that mattered to me. I just needed my freedom. I had to see Juliet. Never expecting to be released, I’d cut her off. Refused her visits. Ignored her letters.