Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,3

you’ve been convicted of. Explain to them how you’ve seen the light and are turning over a new leaf. You’re a changed man and all that. The whole reformed criminal speech. I can write it down for you.”

I blink at him while trying to calm the raging thunder in my veins. “You’re asking me to apologize? Grovel?”

His features pinch further. “I’m advising you to take this bargain and get the fuck outta prison.”

It’s hard to argue when he puts it that way. “When?”

“Could be tomorrow or the next day. Definitely before the weekend. The paperwork is already being processed. All you really have to do is show up and keep that temper in check. Mouthing off won’t grant you any favors. But don’t worry, I’ll be there with you.”

A muscle pops in my cheek. “To make sure my muzzle is in place?”

“Just as your counsel. You’re the one claiming to be reasonable.”

“And then what? I just walk free?”

Paul’s laugh is rusty, grit from rare use evident in the harsh tone. “You’ll be assigned a probation officer. They’ll meet with you on a near-constant basis to ensure you’re on a straight road to rehabilitation. There will probably be others hovering nearby on your return to civilization.”

“Like a social worker?” I have no business getting a jolt at the idea, but it comes just the same.

“Potentially. They’re usually a vital part of any supportive recovery team. Are you interested in a certain one?” He grins in a way that clearly states I’m not hiding a damn thing.

There’s no reason to expose myself completely. I give him a limp shrug. “Not necessarily.”

His smile stretches wider. “Do you want me to see if Blakely has availability in her schedule?”

Just her name gets blood pumping south at an alarming rate. “Is that a role she would typically take?”

“For you? Of course. Any decent person who has heard your story wants to lend a helping hand.”

Any heat I’d been feeling fizzles out with a hiss. “I don’t want charity. Especially from her.”

Paul’s chuckle has a bit more girth this round. “Oh, she’ll be more than adequately compensated. Don’t worry.”

“And this wouldn’t be a weird request?” Why I’m even considering this proves how detached from women I’ve become. The possibility of getting another hit off her, however small, is enough to send me straining against my leash.

“I’m not sure about Blakely’s specialty. You can always ask her.”

“Maybe I will.”

His jaw almost drops to the chipped tabletop. “No shit. Does this mean you’re actually going to grow a pair and speak with her?”

A semblance of a twinge tips one side of my lips. “I’ll consider that as one of my options.”

He gestures at my mandated jumpsuit. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate seeing you in a different shade. Normal clothes will do wonders for your complexion.”

“Maybe she’s a fan of orange.”

Paul’s grunt bounces off the concrete walls. “The prison hue isn’t a turn on. No matter what she says.”

Yeah, I’m not fooling anyone with my faux bout of confidence. “I’ll have a better chance at appearing human once my innocence is proven. Speaking of, what’s the latest on those assholes responsible for putting me in here?”

“As of now, there’s nothing new to report.”

“How is that possible? They’re dirtier than any man in this joint.”

His exhale is long-winded, gaining strength to let me down. “The system is complicated. I have no doubt Stefano and his right hands are being watched around the clock. But effectively taking down a complex operation is no easy task.”

This comes as no surprise, yet disappointment sinks heavier than a boulder. My previous employer is a very dangerous and motivated man. There is a bank of knowledge and secrets that I hold the key to. Stefano made sure those secrets will never be leaked. But the questions remain. “Why didn’t the authorities question me further on my involvement?”

“The officials gathered all they wanted to know. What could’ve changed during lockup? You’ve been considered a loose end who went rogue.”

“I’m supposed to forget who did this to me? Just move on as if all is forgiven?”

“Pretty sure no one expects that, least of all me. You’re well aware of those who belong behind bars. Start building a case against them. Go to the police when you’re ready.”

I rub over my eyes, a dull ache forming the longer we circle this topic. “Because they’ll listen to a convicted criminal.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Pass. I’ll take care of them myself.”

A shadow passes over his expression, a guard settling into place. “Watch your