Page 3 of Rascal

“Don’t forget the white bitches too.”

King laughed. “Forgetting you’re a white bitch?”

“King, I’m the fuckin’ queen of white bitches!” I stated, and my best friend in the entire world nodded.

“Ain’t disagreeing there.”

“Is he still there, King?”

“No. The asshole ran after the trial. Claimed he couldn’t stay. I know where he is. Spearfish, South Dakota. He joined an MC.”

“Huh, did he now? Shane was never one for bikes. What’s the betting he’s using them to hide out in case I ever got free? Did any more rumours surface regarding this other woman?” I asked.

King had been the only person to visit me, and I told him not to mention Shane or anything else. I was behind bars, yet I was innocent. That rankled, and I wanted blood. But imprisoned, I’d been unable to do a thing about it; now I was free, it was a different story.

“None. Everyone believed Shane.”

“Apart from you.”

“Hallie, I always knew my girl; you’d never have done that. You couldn’t even step on a spider. No way did you stab that motherfucker. I’ll never believe it,” King stated firmly.

“Good. Because I swear, I didn’t.”

King reached over, took my hand, and squeezed it.

“I know. Now, do you need a hotel room?” What? Where was King going with this? “You’ve not had sex for five years, Hallie, you might wanna get laid just to—”

I slapped King’s arm, and we both giggled.

“Offering to take one for the team?”

“Yup. I don’t like skinny white chicks, but if I close my eyes I can—”

“Shut up. I wouldn’t suck your cock for a million bucks; I’ve seen the skanks you stick it in!” I snapped back, and King laughed.

“God, I missed you, Hallie Milton,” he admitted.

“Not as much as I did you. Let’s go upset some bitches!”

There were eyes on us; I could feel them as King and I headed to my family lawyer’s office. His receptionist glanced up, looked away, and in shock, turned to stare at me.

“Hallie Milton?” she inhaled sharply.

“Yeah. Tell Louis I’m here to see him.”

“Aren’t you locked up?” she gasped.

I exchanged a look with King, and we both started laughing. “If I were, I wouldn’t be standing here, would I? Get Louis.” I asked and took a seat. She hesitated, then picked up the phone. Moments later, Louis, my uncle’s lawyer, was racing towards me.

“Did you break out of jail?” he demanded.

“Wow, that’s your first thought?” I replied, not even a bit amused.

“You were locked up for twenty-five years!” Louis continued.

“Yep. I was. Strange thing, though: evidence came to light that proved Shane Morris a fuckin’ liar. How about that, Louis? I was innocent all along. Just like I said,” I snarled. Louis had point-blank refused to defend me.

Louis turned pale. “What?”