Prologue

About 7 years ago, I did something significant. Something that changed my life. Something that led me to who I am today. Something that paved a way for my future. I remember that day.....as clear as day.

It was just another day in my miserable life. I can still remember my 11 year old self running away from my mother's drug dealer on my rusty bicycle. 

My legs had ached peddling for so long. I always hid when my mother brought strange men over to the house. 

I always hid in a small corner under the kitchen sink when they came over. I never saw their faces. I preferred staring at the concrete wall under the dank sink. 

But, that day, I overheard them talking in their bedroom.

"I don't want payment with your body. My dick ain't hard for ya."

That made my nose wrinkle in disgust.

"I'm sure I can make it hard sugar."

"Get. Off. You've been tryin' for the past minute. Don't ya say I'm a limp dick. I ain't. I want something else. Or rather someone else." He purred.

"Who?" 

"That sweet little thing you have. Your daughter."

My heart rose to my throat at that. Surely, my mother would knock some sense into him. Right?

There was a terse silence.

"You need to give me another baggie."

I froze, her words creating a deep gash from my heart to my gut.

He chuckled. It sent shivers down my spine.

"I'll give ya two extra baggies. What do ya say?"

"I say be gentle."

I didn't wait another second. I got out of the small box apartment through the kitchen door and got on my rusty bicycle. It's been there before we moved in, not that we had many belongings.

I didn't know where I was going. I just knew that I needed to get out of there. So, I peddled away like a bat out of hell.

My tears were drying at the same pace they were coming from the wind whipping against my face.

I finally stopped when I reached another neighborhood. Not a good one, but not the worst either.

I hooked the pen camera to my shirt and started to slowly cycle through the neighborhood. I took the pen camera with me wherever I went.

I bought it at a yard sale. Well, I technically didn't buy it. The lady who arranged the yard sale gave it to me for free. I'd asked her why and she'd told me that she didn't have any use for it and felt like I might need it.

I was very grateful, so the next day, I baked cookies for her as a form of gratitude.

She told me there was high storage in the pen camera and she told me that in order to get a clear recording, I'd have to be a little close to whatever it was that I was recording.

That was why, when I saw a small box house, somewhat like mine, but much more tidier and polished, I stopped and got off my bicycle. There were pretty purple flowers lining the window and I wanted to stop to admire them.

I went toward the flowers and through the window, I saw a woman who looked like she'd seen a ghost. She was sweating and muttered 'pick up' to her cell phone.

I wanted to know what made her so scared, so I ducked beneath the open window, but kept the pen held to the top of the window sill.

I heard her sigh. I peeked a little and saw her pull bag after bag of white powder out of her handbag. I knew all too well what that was. Snow or cocaine.

My eyes widened at the amount.

"Listen Johnny, I can't give you the supply tonight. I'll give them to you tomorrow if nothing happens to me. I'm hiding the coke in my boyfriend's closet. I'll supply you tomorrow if I can."

I ducked again.

"He wouldn't steal it. He doesn't do drugs and he rarely opens the closet. It's the safest here. He'd blow a gasket if he does find out though, so let's make sure he doesn't."

I knew I needed to get out, so I clicked a button on the pen to stop recording and started cycling back to my house.

I thanked my lucky stars when the man was gone, but that didn't mean he wouldn't return.

I saw my mother sprawled on the couch and for the first time, I felt immense fury and distaste toward her. Who would sell their daughter for some drugs? 

I marched up to her and wiped out any soft emotion I've ever felt for her.

"Next time, you bring your men here, I'll call the police. I'll tell them everything. The police would certainly believe me just by taking a look at you. So unless you want to end up behind bars, I suggest you take your men elsewhere."

Outwardly, my tone was calm, but inside, I felt anxious and terrified. I never talked to my mother like that.

I was prepared for the slap. It shook me, but I stood my ground and smiled at her. 

"Yet more proof."

"You keep your men out of this house and I won't call the police. That's the deal."

She continued to glare at me, but relented in the end.

"Deal. Bitch."

That stung, but everything she ever did always stung. I've grown used to it.

After she stormed off to God knows where, I collapsed on the ratty couch and exhaled, wondering when my life would get better.

______________________________________

The next morning, I sat in the living room, reading the newspaper. Marcus, our neighbor who was in his sixties always gave me his paper after reading it. I was very grateful, so I always gave him a nice cup of coffee to express my gratitude.

I frowned at an article in the paper with a blurry picture of a shaggy blonde man with his head down.

Man arrested in Deephaven, Minnesota for distribution of cocaine from his home. His name has not been disclosed yet as the arrest has taken place this morning, but his girlfriend claims that it had been going on for years.

There was a picture of a woman. The same woman who I saw yesterday. She was lying. I skipped to the last part of the article, ignoring what she'd said. Lies. She was spouting lies.

Sources reveal that the case is being taken up by hotshot defence attorney Dexter Raymond.

I immediately went into the only bedroom of the apartment, which was occupied by my mother's sleeping form.

I took her cracked phone and searched up Dexter Raymond. Luckily, the address to his office was mentioned. Edina.

I had to cycle for approximately 1 hour 30 minutes, but that was nothing. I knew I needed to right a wrong and I would do it.

I couldn't waste any time. I had to go to this Dexter Raymond. Whether I could trust him or not, my gut would tell me. 

Without wasting any time, I mounted my bicycle and started pedalling. I had to take three ten minute breaks, but it was worth it, because with a few instructions from some people nearby, I managed to get to his office. 

It was a medium sized building, but even I couldn't deny the luxurious appeal to it. The building was sleek, black and made of glass. I was afraid to even open the door, but I did it anyway. 

I was nervous and anxious as I went to the front desk. A lady sat behind it, barely paying me any attention. 

"Excuse me." My voice came out squeaky and I flushed. She still didn't hear me, so I said in a louder voice. 

"Excuse me miss." She finally looked over at me and gave me a once over. I wore my finest pair of jeans and shirt, but I couldn't deny that even they looked worn. I squirmed. 

"What?" She popped a bubble. 

"I would like to meet a Dexter Raymond?"

She stared at me. "I'm sorry honey, but he's not here."

"I really need to see him, please."

"I told you he's not here kid. Go back home."

I couldn't trust this lady with my pen. I knew that. It would definitely be tossed aside. 

"It's really important." This time, she looked at me, annoyed.

"I'll call security to haul you out of here if you don't leave."

Sheesh. I didn't want security throwing me out. 

"Fine, but just know that you're standing in the way of a man's justice."

That didn't faze her and neither did the fact that I was watching her as I walked forward. 

I bumped into someone along the way and would have fell down, if not for the fact that that someone caught my arm. 

"What's a little girl like you doing here?"

A deep masculine voice asked. I looked up and saw a middle aged man. 

"I was looking for Dexter Raymond. You don't happen to know him, do you?"

"I believe you're standing right in front of him."

"Oh."

"What did you want dear?"

I couldn't get much of a read on him even if he was bending down to my level. 

"Are you an honorable man Mr. Raymond?"

He looked at me in shock before being amused. 

"I'd like to think I am."

"Do you remember one man got arrested for being found with drugs? He had a girlfriend. Now, I don't know his name, but I know he's innocent."

I thrust the pen at him. He reluctantly took it. 

"What's this?"

"There's a camera in there, but you have to hook it to something. His girlfriend hid the white powder. I don't know if there's audio in there, but she's the one who should be facing her crimes."

He looked stunned and relieved. 

"You have no idea how much you've helped my case, young lady, if what you're saying is true?"

"I promise. Please do the right thing Mr. Raymond."

He pulled out his wallet and I realized he wanted to pay me, but I quickly denied. 

"I don't want the money. I did it for justice."

He insisted, but I resisted. He finally tucked his money away and I realized that I had to go home before it became dark. 

"I'll be watching the news Mr. Raymond. In hopes that you'll do the right thing."

"You have my word young lady." He held up two fingers, which I recognized as Scout's honor. I giggled and rode back home, feeling good for the first time in a long time. 

______________________________________

Unknown:

I was a lucky bastard. I was looking to serious prison time because of the whore of the week. 

I didn't know Dexter Raymond's confidential informant was a tiny little redhead. It was unbelievable, but I was grateful. 

I showed my gratitude by watching out for her, making sure she was safe. I had no romantic interest in her. I was many things, but I was not a goddamn pedo. 

I stopped keeping tabs when she turned sixteen, seeing as she was doing well on her own. 

After two years, when I finally laid eyes on her again, something happened. Something unchangeable. Something moved inside me. 

I knew what the feeling was. I knew I had to make her mine.