Fire on Fire

11. Quid pro quo

3 years ago

"Up!" A guard shouted, kicking the bunk bed. "Your lawyer is here."

The young man lying in the cot below raised his head, hopeful. "My lawyer?"

"No." The guard spat. "Adams." He kicked the bunk bed again. "Come on, princess, wake up."

Alexander slowly removed the book from his face, being careful to put the bookmark precisely where he needed it to be. The good thing about prison was that it gave him a lot of time to read and get the education he'd missed. Sitting up leisurely, he sent the guard a lopsided smile. "Come on, Hernandez, cheer up a bit, we're nearing Christmas."

"Move it!" The guard shouted, glaring.

Alexander frowned. "Are you sure you don't have the wrong Adams? I don't have a lawyer."

"Now you do. UP!" The man kicked the bunk bed once again.

Sighing, Alexander jumped off, adjusting his orange uniform. "When are you going to learn some manners, Hernandez?" He teased as he followed the guard outside the cell – after having been properly restrained. "Ladies don't like grim men." All he got in response was yet another glare.

For some reason, Hernandez was the only guard that didn't like him. Alexander had managed the impossible: getting the staff of a max security federal prison to deem a convicted parricide likable, yet this one here probably would turn a blind eye if he saw someone shank him in the showers.

When they reached the room where normally an inmate and their lawyer were able to get some privacy, the guard pushed him inside. In there, Alexander found the usual chairs and table, but sitting at the other side of it, was a classy young woman, someone he'd never met. "Uh ... hello?"

"Hi." She grinned cheerfully. "I'm Nancy Dorsey, your new lawyer." She introduced, standing up and stretching a hand for him to shake it.

"Uh ..." he hinted at the shackles on him, so she retrieved her hand with a light chuckle. "I didn't ask for one?"

"I know. But I've read your case and I think I can help you." She sat down and invited him to do the same, but he didn't.

"No offense, Miss, but you look uh ... very young." He eyed her closely – she couldn't be older than 25.

She smiled. "I graduated early. And I can assure you I have more experience than you'd think."

"Even so," he arched an eyebrow, "if you've read the files, you know there's not much room for interpretation."

"Oh, I believe there is," Nancy claimed, her grin unfaltering, "so, why don't you sit down and we can talk about it?"

"Listen, either you're a hoax – and I've got no time to waste –, or you're just as good as you claim to be, and in that case there's no way I can afford you." Alexander said firmly. "I've done my Math. I've served 6 years, in about 4 I can ask for parole, and if I'm lucky I can be out on good behavior soon enough."

If his father, with his record and what he'd done, had been able to get out so early, there was no reason why he couldn't, right? Alexander reminded himself. He just needed to make the time in prison count, not waste it in futile arguments and rivalries, but focus on getting an education and preparing for when he would be released. At the very least, he owed Delilah and his Nana that.

"But what if I told you that I can have your sentence reduced to 9 years for manslaughter and you can leave in a few months?" The young attorney claimed, excited.

He furrowed his brows. "I'd say you've got an angle I can't see right now; or worse, you're crazy, which, believe me, is not a good look on a lawyer," he looked her up and down for a moment, "especially not such a pretty one."