Free The Defendant by Chris Taylor

to hear.”
    Scott stilled and then his heart took off at high speed. He swallowed and did his best to get his panic under control. He could tell from the look on Dudley’s face that the news wasn’t good. Unwilling to show how much it mattered, he offered a disinterested shrug.
    “How the fuck would you know anything about Neil? He’s on the outside now and you’re still stuck in here.”
    A sly smile turned up the edges of Dudley’s narrow, puce-colored lips. “I got me sources, don’t you worry. How much is it worth to ya?”
    Anger boiled at the edges of Scott’s consciousness and he itched to slam his fist into Dudley’s face, but he needed to know what the fucker was talking about, so he breathed through the fury and forced a smile.
    “Come on, Duds. I thought we were mates. You should tell me just because you’re a good bloke. I shouldn’t have to pay you.”
    “Ha!” Dudley laughed. “As if I’d fall for that one. You of all people know how it goes. I’ve got somethin’ you want. When you give me what I want, then I’ll tell ya what I know.”
    Scott growled low in his throat, impatience surging through him. He ought to just smash his fist in the side of Dudley’s head and be done with it, but then the fucker would spend a week in the infirmary and Scott wouldn’t be any the wiser about the prick’s news. If it really was something to do with Neil, Scott wanted to know.
    Forcing another smile, he sighed dramatically and stepped away from the bench press. Weasel stood nearby, jiggling nervously from foot to foot.
    “Get me a fucking towel, Weasel,” he growled, “and hurry up about it. It’s hot as hell out here.” Weasel scurried away, across the other side of the exercise yard. More than a hundred other inmates, all garbed in prison green, walked or talked or smoked or did all three along the yard’s perimeter.
    Scott turned back to Dudley and narrowed his eyes. “All right, Duds, here it is. I’ll give you three joints and a handful of pills. That’s it. Now, hurry up and spit it out before I change my mind.”
    “Throw in a couple of packets of ciggies and I’ll tell ya everythin’ I know.”
    “Deal.” They shook hands and Scott held his breath and waited to hear the news.
    “A mate of mine from up the coast rang me last night after dinner. He told me Neil had taken a bullet. Apparently, it was all over the news up there a few weeks ago.”
    Scott swallowed his shriek of pain and schooled his features into an emotionless mask. He forced himself to ask the question. “Dead?”
    “Yeah. At least, that’s what they said on the news.”
    “Fuck. What happened? Did Vladimir find him? That son of a bitch always threatened to get him the minute he got out.”
    Dudley shook his head. “Nah, nothin’ like that. Nothin’ to do with drugs. Some kid from the fuckin’ boondocks gave it to him. Neil was stickin’ it to the kid’s mother and the kid pulled out a fuckin’ gun. Blew his fuckin’ brains out.”
    A buzzing started in Scott’s ears. The sound drowned everything out. He stared at Dudley’s mouth. His lips were moving, but Scott could no longer hear the words. Pain tore through him at the thought of Neil dead. Neil. His mate. The big brother he’d never had.
    He shook his head and slapped at his ears in an effort to clear them of the roar of noise. Grabbing hold of Dudley by his shirt front, he pulled the other man close. With his face only inches away, he spat, “You’d better not be fucking with me, Duds.”
    Dudley paled, but shook his head adamantly. “I’m not fuckin’ with ya, Scotty. I swear. It’s the truth.”
    Scott closed his eyes against the weight of realization. Forcing them open again, he stared hard at the other man.
    “Tell me everything.”
    * * *
    Josie’s strokes were sure and even. The cool water kissed her skin. She reached the end of the pool and did a neat racing turn and started once again for the other end. She’d lost count of the