Page 56 of White Rabbit

“On your knees Creed,” Lewis shouts as he holds his taser and baton out. Minutes later, the room is flooded with guards screaming at everyone to get down.

Sanchez is taken to the infirmary, bitching and moaning while I’m cuffed. A stint in solitary wasn’t ideal right now, but with my frame of mind, I didn’t care. I was losing it. Unraveling.

This wasn’t like me—I wasn’t the man who lost his temper uncontrollably. I was precise, exacting. I didn’t act out of anger like this.

Frowning, I realize I’m being led to the warden’s office instead of solitary confinement. Was Williamson finally going to acknowledge me?

The warden isn’t in his office when I enter, instead I’m met by a grinning Julian leaning against the warden’s desk and another of our Captains, Zeno, sitting in the warden’s chair.

It was easy to see why Julian was often seen as a savior in an Armani suit, his bright green eyes flashing mischievously as he grins at me. He was the man who gave with one hand, helping charities, criminals and the people of Newtown, and took with the other, also supplying them with drugs, weapons and violence. The perfect paradox.

He steps forward and pulls me into a hug that smells like money and smug satisfaction. “My friend, it’s been a while.”

It has. We were rarely apart, Jules and I. Best friends, brothers in arms, family and Family in every sense of the word. That’s why, as he steps away, I slam my fist into his jaw.

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for.” He grunts, rubbing at his face with a pout.

We both know I held back. If I'd been truly angry, he wouldn’t be able to look petulant because his face would have been partially rearranged.

“For keeping me in the dark, you shithead.” I grunt, throwing myself down in the chair opposite the desk. “What’re you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” His smile returns, wide and with a flash of teeth. “I’m your lawyer and since the conviction against you has been overturned—why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Overturned?” I repeat as his words sink in. “What?”

“It appears that the evidence was tampered with, found to be false and the system that convicted you was corrupt. Blacker than even your soul, Eli.” Julian laughs as he opens his briefcase and shows me the document that states I’m free to go.

We had already known all of this, but proving it had been the issue.

I raise an eyebrow. “Williamson?”

“Can you believe that the warden of Ogmore Grange was taking payment for particular prisoners? Outrageous.” Julian’s faux surprise and horror at the system being fucked makes me chuckle. He almost sounds genuinely outraged. “An investigation is now being launched into other inmates ‘lost’ in the system.”

I flex my hands, my bloody bruised knuckles latching onto the thought that more inmates could potentially be freed. “Benny Tucker.”

Jules narrows his eyes at me. “Who’s he?”

“He’s Family.”

He nods firmly. “I’ll look into it.”

His unwavering trust in my decisions remind me once again why we’re trying to change our organization and move The Family forward. Life is not meant to be all violence, greed, and anger. Sometimes there’s simplicity and safety in being part of something.

“And the Judge?” I ask, with a tilt of my head. Ava’s father was a dirty motherfucker, but he was still her father. If his blood was on my hands, would she ever forgive me?

“Walters is in the trenches of it all.” Julian’s smile falls ever so slightly. “But we’ve decided another approach may be needed. The Volkov’s have been brought in.”

“And you trust them with this?” What exactly had been going on while I was locked up?

Jules shrugs and shares a look with Zeno as he perches back on the edge of the desk. “Anoushka calls him ‘The Walrus’, which Rosie finds amusing to no end.”

So, they were keeping Walters alive for Rosie’s entertainment so we could reach a decision on what should be done. That was a good approach, because it meant I could talk with Ava too, ensuring she was on board with whatever path we went down.

“What about the prodigal son?”

“Bass will get what’s coming to him.” His face is more serious now, the smile falling from his face and a hard glint I recognize well.

Andrew was one of ours and so the rules were different. He knew what he’d signed up for when he asked for a seat at the table. And he understood the risks he was taking trying to pull the strings and cut our throats. This never should have happened. Still, he was Ava’s brother and considerations would have to be made. But men manage to live with missing limbs all the time, so a solution shouldn’t be too hard to find.

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