Criminal Intentions

Hey, it’s Author W. G. Sweet here. How about a free story from one of the Criminal Intentions books? I hope you enjoy it, and the links to purchase the books are below the story, W.G.

Criminal Intentions # 1

W. G. Sweet 2023 all rights reserved foreign and domestic.

LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

Portions of this novel are Copyright © 2010 – 2015 Dell Sweet. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and or distributed without the author’s permission.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.

WHEN THEY TRIED TO KILL ME

(This is a true story that happened to me when I was in the game. A guy who became a co-defendant called me up one night out of the blue. I usually didn’t answer the phone, and this was before Cell Phones were a thing. Nevertheless, this time I did. Let’s call the person on the phone Jake, he’s dead now so I suppose I could just use his real name.)

It was a weeknight, and after a long day of legitimate work at the body shop—where I specialized in bodywork and painting cars—I was looking forward to unwinding. The plan was simple: crack open a few cold beers, sink into the comfort of my worn-out couch, and let the stresses of the day fade away. The soft glow of the television flickered in the background as I settled into my routine.

But just as I was about to take my first sip, the phone rang, shattering the peaceful atmosphere of my evening. Like the idiot I can sometimes be, I picked up the receiver, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Hello?” I said, hoping it was just a wrong number or perhaps a friend wanting to catch up. Instead, I was met with a voice that instantly changed the course of my night.

“Hey, it’s me,” the voice said, and I immediately recognized it. It was Jake, an old buddy from my past—a name I hadn’t thought about in years.

“Jake? What’s up, man?” I asked, trying to mask my surprise.

“I need your help,” he replied, his tone urgent. “It’s kind of important.”

I hesitated for a moment, the beer in my hand forgotten. Jake had always been a wild card, and while we had shared some good times, we had also gotten into our fair share of trouble together.

“What’s going on?” I asked, wariness creeping into my voice.

“Can I come over?” he pressed, urgency lacing his words.

I glanced around my small apartment, mentally weighing my desire for a quiet night against the shadow of Jake’s unpredictable presence. Reluctantly, I agreed. “Yeah, sure. Just hurry up.”

As I hung up the phone, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the calm evening I had envisioned was about to spiral into chaos. I took a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for whatever Jake was about to bring into my life once again. Little did I know that this decision would set off a chain of events that would lead me down a path I never expected to travel.

Needless to say, Jake showed up, but he didn’t come in. Instead, he sent another guy to my door—a tall, wiry fellow I recognized but didn’t know well. He had a look about him that screamed trouble, and as he leaned against the frame, his eyes darting around, I could tell something was off.

“There’s something that needs doing,” the guy said curtly, his voice low and urgent.

I wasn’t surprised. Over the years, I’d built a reputation for myself, working for various men in the shadows, taking on jobs that straddled the line between legal and illegal. It was a risky lifestyle, but it paid the bills when my day job at the body shop didn’t cover the expenses. I made the assumption that this was just another one of those jobs, and part of me was intrigued, though I felt a knot of unease forming in my stomach.

“Alright,” I replied, trying to keep my tone casual as I shrugged on a jacket. “Give me a minute.” I excused myself under the pretense of taking a leak, but in reality, I had other preparations to make.

Once inside the bathroom, I quickly slipped my hand into the inside pocket of my jacket, retrieving a 9mm semi-automatic pistol. The cold metal felt reassuring against my skin, and I tucked it away, ensuring it was hidden but easily accessible. You never really knew what was going to happen in situations like this, and that night, I was especially grateful for my instinct to be prepared.

As I walked back to the door, the weight of the gun pressed against me, a stark reminder of the unpredictability of my life. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a simple job; there was a tension in the air that hinted at something darker lurking beneath the surface.

“Let’s go,” I said, stepping outside to meet the guy. I was ready for whatever lay ahead, though I knew deep down that I was about to step into a world where trust was a luxury I couldn’t afford. As we walked down the dimly lit street, I felt a mix of excitement and dread, knowing that the choices I made tonight could change everything.

I didn’t like Jake. In fact, I didn’t trust him either. A few years back, he had committed murder right in front of me—an act so cold and senseless that it haunted my thoughts even now. There was no real reason for what he had done; it was a brutal display of power, and afterward, he had bragged about it to anyone who would listen. That kind of arrogance fueled my distrust. He was the kind of guy who could turn on you in an instant, and it made me wary of his every move.

So, when the guy sent by Jake attempted to make his way toward the backdoor of the car, I didn’t hesitate. I pushed past him, yanked the door open, and slipped inside, my instincts kicking in. I wanted to put as much distance as possible between myself and Jake, who was still loitering outside, his presence suffocating. I didn’t want someone behind me, and I didn’t want to be within arm’s reach of Jake—too close for comfort. My alarm bells were already ringing loudly in my head. Something was definitely off.

As I settled into the cramped space of the car, I felt a wave of unease wash over me. A guy sitting behind you could easily pull a gun, cap you without a second thought, and then dump your body along with the vehicle. Just like that, the story would be over, and I knew I had to stay alert. I couldn’t shake the thought that I had considered killing Jake myself at one point. It was a dark notion, but given his history, it didn’t seem far-fetched that he might be contemplating something similar.

I glanced around, taking in my surroundings. I didn’t recognize the car, which added to my discomfort. It was a nondescript sedan, and I couldn’t remember if I had ever seen it before. The other guy, the one I had introduced to Jake, was a familiar face, but I couldn’t be sure of his allegiances. When it came down to it, I realized it couldn’t be me he was tight with, especially since I hadn’t heard from him in months.

He didn’t even acknowledge my presence as I sat in the car, his gaze fixed on the dashboard, almost as if he were trying to ignore me. That was a tactic I had used myself in the past when I had bad things to do and wanted to make sure it didn’t become personal. Keeping distance was a survival instinct in this world—making sure that emotions didn’t cloud judgment.

As the silence lingered, I felt the tension in the air thicken. I was trapped in a situation that felt precarious at best, with danger lurking just beyond the edges of my awareness. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down, not for a second. My mind raced with possibilities and scenarios, each more alarming than the last. I needed to stay sharp and figure out what was really going on before it was too late. The stakes had never felt higher, and I was determined to make it out of this encounter unscathed.

The silence in the car was deafening, almost suffocating in its intensity. If my instincts hadn’t been on high alert before, they were now blaring like sirens in my head. Just a few minutes into the ride, I could feel the weight of the tension pressing down on me, thick and oppressive. It felt as if the air itself had turned heavy, wrapping around us like a shroud. I glanced at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Jake’s reflection, his jaw clenched tight, and a frown etched deeply across his face.

“So, what’s the deal?” I finally broke the silence, unable to contain my frustration any longer. The unknown was gnawing at me, and I needed answers.

“Just take care of some shit,” Jake mumbled, his eyes still focused on the road ahead, as if he were trying to will the world around us to stay calm.

“Yeah, I figured that much,” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. “But what the fuck? You aren’t saying shit, and Freddy dipshit back here isn’t saying anything either, so, like I already said, what the fuck?”

The irritation in my tone hung in the air, a stark contrast to the uncomfortable silence that enveloped us. I turned to glance at Freddy, who was slouched in the back seat, his gaze fixed out the window, seemingly lost in thought. It was unsettling how he seemed to be tuning everything out, as if he were intentionally avoiding any involvement in the conversation, or worse, the situation we found ourselves in.

I could feel the tension simmering just below the surface, and it made me uneasy. We were headed into the unknown, and the lack of communication was only amplifying my anxiety. I didn’t like being left in the dark, especially when the stakes felt so high. I needed to know what I was getting into, what kind of “shit” Jake was referring to.

“Come on, man. You know I can’t roll with this vague bullshit,” I pressed, leaning forward in my seat, trying to catch Jake’s eye. “If we’re about to do something that could get us into deep trouble, I need to know what’s at stake. This isn’t just some casual errand.”

Jake finally glanced at me, his expression a mix of annoyance and something I couldn’t quite place. “You just have to trust me, alright? It’s… complicated,” he replied, his voice low, almost a whisper.

“Complicated, huh?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Complicated usually means ‘I’m up to something shady,’ and I don’t want to be dragged into it without knowing what’s really going on.”

Freddy shifted in the back seat, finally breaking his silence. “Just relax, man. We’re not here to hurt anyone. Just a quick job, in and out,” he said, his tone dismissive, but the way he said “quick job” sent a chill down my spine. It felt too simplistic, too easy.

“Yeah, but quick jobs can go sideways real fast,” I countered, feeling the tension in the air thicken once more. “I just want to be prepared for whatever’s about to go down.”

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with the back-and-forth. “Look, I get it. But just trust me, okay? I wouldn’t have brought you along if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

As the words hung between us, I felt a knot of unease tighten in my stomach. Trust wasn’t something I afforded lightly, especially in a situation like this. But as we continued down the road, the feeling that something was off only grew stronger. I needed to stay alert, to keep my wits about me. Whatever “shit” we were about to face, I had to be ready for it. The silence may have been loud, but it was the unspoken danger that echoed even more profoundly in my mind Time seemed to stretch endlessly as we cruised down one of the main streets, leaving the familiar bustle of the town behind us. The scenery shifted from crowded business strips to scattered small enterprises, and eventually, the landscape opened up into the wide expanse of the countryside. It was an unsettling transition, one that had me on edge. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were moving further away from safety, plunging deeper into unknown territory.

Jake finally pulled off onto a poorly paved road, its surface riddled with potholes and overgrown grass creeping in from the sides. I didn’t recognize this path, and as he began to slow the car, my heart raced. Every instinct in my body was screaming that something was off. My hand instinctively gripped the semi-automatic tucked into my pocket, and in a swift motion, I pulled it out and aimed it at Jake as he eased the vehicle to a stop.

Freddy, the guy in the back seat, stared hard at me, his expression a mix of surprise and defiance. “Go ahead, pull it,” I said, nodding toward the bulge beneath his jacket, which I assumed was a gun. The air in the car was thick with tension, and I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on us. Freddy frowned at me but didn’t make a move to reach for whatever he had concealed.

The silence stretched on, suffocating and charged with unspoken threats. I could sense the unease radiating off both of them, and I knew instinctively that whatever vibe I had picked up was more than just paranoia—it was a clear indication that they were up to no good. My gut churned with dread as the realization hit me like a cold wave: they might be planning to kill me.

Thoughts raced through my mind, painting a vivid picture of what could happen next. The cornfields loomed ominously in my imagination, vast and empty, a perfect place to dispose of a body. I imagined them dragging me out into the fields, leaving me there to be picked apart by coyotes, their howls echoing in the night as they feasted on what was left of me. The imagery was chilling, and I fought to push it away, but the fear clung to me like a second skin.

“Jake, what’s going on?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could hear the tremor of anxiety creeping in. “If you’re planning something, just know I’m not going down without a fight.”

Jake shot me a glance, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “It’s not what you think,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid of the very silence that surrounded us. “We’re just here to talk.”

“Talk?” I scoffed, incredulous. “You think I’m going to believe that? You pull me out here, and it’s not just for a friendly chat.”

Freddy shifted in the front seat, his eyes darting between me and Jake, tension mounting with every passing second. The atmosphere felt charged, as if the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.

“Listen, man,” Jake said, his tone growing more serious. “Just put the gun down. We don’t want any trouble. We need to figure this out before it gets out of hand.”

But I wasn’t so easily convinced. The unease settled deep in my bones, and I knew that any moment of weakness could cost me dearly. My grip tightened around the firearm, and I prepared myself for whatever was coming next. The stakes had never felt higher, and I was determined to protect myself, even if it meant standing my ground against two men I once thought I could trust. The darkness of the night loomed outside, enveloping us, and with it came the chilling realization that I was fighting not just for my life, but for answers that might never come.

I kept the gun trained on them, my gaze shifting back and forth between Jake and Freddy as I carefully levered the door handle and climbed out of the back seat of the car. The tension in the air was thick, palpable, and I could feel every heartbeat thrumming in my ears. As I pressed the button to lower the window, I dropped it down slowly, ensuring that I didn’t take my eyes off them for even a second. Once I had the window open, I closed the door firmly behind me, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.

“Motherfucker, you better not even be looking in my direction,” I warned Jake, my voice low and steady, though adrenaline coursed through my veins like fire. I took about half a dozen cautious steps backward, keeping the gun pointed at them, my instincts razor-sharp. With each step, I felt the ground beneath me shift, the reality of the situation settling in. I was stepping into the unknown, but I had to stay focused.

As I reached the edge of the field, I turned sharply and sprinted into the dense rows of corn. The tall stalks stood like sentinels around me, providing a natural cover for my six-foot-plus frame. I moved with purpose, careful not to disturb the corn too much; I didn’t want to give them any indication of my position. Every rustle and sway of the stalks could betray me, and I needed to remain hidden.

I navigated the field with calculated precision, my heart pounding in my chest as I ducked and weaved between the towering plants. I could feel the cool night air brushing against my skin, and the scent of the earth mixed with the green of the corn enveloped me, grounding me in the moment. I was hyper-aware of every sound—the whispers of the wind, the soft crunch of my footsteps on the dirt, and the distant rustling that seemed to echo my own movements.

In my mind, I replayed the confrontation, the escalating tension that had led to this moment. I couldn’t let them see me, couldn’t let them catch a glimpse of my retreat. My mind raced with possibilities, weighing the odds of what they might do next. Would they follow me into the field? Did they have a plan to flush me out?

Pushing those thoughts aside, I focused on my surroundings, glancing over my shoulder occasionally, trying to gauge if they had made a move. I had to be smart about this; every second counted. I had to find a way to escape without drawing attention to myself. The corn was my ally, but I needed to stay sharp and keep my wits about me.

As I pressed deeper into the field, I could feel the adrenaline fueling my movements, sharpening my instincts. I was determined to outsmart them, to find a way out of this nightmare. The night was dark, but I was fueled by a growing sense of resolve. Whatever their intentions had been, I refused to become another victim of their twisted game. I would fight for my life, and I would do whatever it took to stay one step ahead.

Step Forward a year.

It was just over a year ago when I found myself facing a surprise arrest that turned my life upside down. At first, I had no real idea why the detectives were knocking on my door, but it didn’t take long for the pieces to fall into place. As they peppered me with questions, I quickly realized the gravity of the situation. Jake had been apprehended, and in a desperate bid to save his own skin, he had shifted the blame onto me.

He recounted the events that had unfolded, his version mostly true but with a crucial twist—he swore it was me who had orchestrated everything. The detectives seemed to buy it, and soon enough, both of us found ourselves charged with multiple felonies, including murder. I was left cooling my heels in county lock-up, a dismal place where time moved at a crawl, and uncertainty loomed like a dark cloud over my head.

The initial weeks dragged on, and I felt the weight of the world pressing down on me. I was a known bad guy, and the cops had little interest in giving me the benefit of the doubt. I was treated like a criminal from the moment I stepped into that cold, sterile environment. It took several months to get things sorted out, and I felt the hopelessness gnawing at me like a relentless predator.

Eventually, things started to shift in my favor. I managed to secure the services of a competent lawyer—one who actually knew what he was doing. When he finally came to visit me, I felt a flicker of hope. He laid out the details of what had transpired, explaining the tangled web of events that had led to my arrest.

I couldn’t help but mention how Jake had been bragging all over town about the crime—he was practically strutting around like a peacock, reveling in his perceived glory. My lawyer listened intently as I recounted Jake’s reckless boasts. Well, it turned out one of those people he had bragged to had gotten caught with a significant stash of cocaine. Facing a minimum of seven years upstate, that guy had no intention of serving hard time. In a desperate move to reduce his sentence, he offered up Jake on a silver platter.

The revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. It was a classic case of self-preservation, where the walls were closing in, and Jake had decided to save himself at my expense. The realization that he had thrown me under the bus in such a calculated manner ignited a fire in my belly. I had to find a way to turn the situation in my favor, to untangle the mess that Jake had created.

As I sat there, contemplating the precariousness of my situation, I understood that I couldn’t rely on anyone but myself. I needed to fight back, to reclaim my narrative and ensure that the truth came to light. The anger I felt towards Jake was palpable, but more than that, I was determined to clear my name, no matter what it took. The road ahead was uncertain, but I was ready to confront the challenges that lay before me. No longer would I be a pawn in someone else’s game; I was going to take control of my own destiny.

My lawyer dropped off a stack of statements from this mysterious individual who had decided to turn on Jake, and as I sat in the dim light of my cell, I began to sift through the pages. Each statement was filled with details that hinted at a deeper story, and I was desperate to figure out who this person was. Were they a friend, a stranger, or perhaps someone who had witnessed the whole thing unfold? The questions buzzed in my mind like a swarm of bees, and I knew that understanding their motives could be crucial in my fight to clear my name.

It was the kind of busywork that occupied my mind during these long, dreary days of confinement. I had learned quickly that keeping my brain engaged was vital for my sanity, especially knowing that I was headed upstate for a potentially lengthy stretch if things didn’t turn around. In the state where I lived, there was a harsh reality: if you had knowledge of a crime and failed to report it to the authorities, you could be charged, convicted, and sentenced for that very same crime. It was a law that sent shivers down my spine, making the stakes even higher for anyone caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

As I read through the statements, I focused intently, searching for any clue or piece of information that could help my lawyer build a case in my favor. The words on the pages began to blur together as I scanned for names, dates, and specific incidents that could serve as an alibi or provide insight into Jake’s deception. I knew Jake well enough to anticipate that he might have put a spin on the events, and my goal was to find inconsistencies in the accounts that could reveal the truth.

The statements varied in detail and tone, some dripping with animosity while others seemed almost indifferent. I found myself dissecting every sentence, trying to read between the lines to uncover who this person was and what their motivations might have been. Did they have a personal vendetta against Jake, or were they simply trying to save themselves from the consequences of their own actions?

As I flipped through the pages, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that settled in my stomach. The shadows of uncertainty loomed larger with each passing moment. I needed to uncover the identity of this informant, to understand their connection to Jake and the crime. Every detail mattered, no matter how insignificant it seemed at first glance.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my mind clear and focused. This was more than just a search for answers; it was a fight for my freedom. I was determined to find anything that could help my lawyer dismantle the case against me. My future depended on it, and I refused to let Jake’s betrayal define my fate.

As I continued to read, I felt a flicker of resolve igniting within me. I was not just a passive participant in this unfolding drama—I was a player in my own right, and I had to take control of the narrative. Each statement was a potential lead, a thread I could pull to unravel the tangled web that had ensnared me. I would not rest until I had uncovered the truth and secured my place back in the world outside these cold, unforgiving walls. The game was far from over, and I was ready to fight tooth and nail for my freedom.

The second statement hit me like a bombshell, sending shockwaves through my already tumultuous thoughts. As I read the words on the page, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. It detailed a night when Jake and this shadowy accomplice had picked up a man that Jake had wanted to eliminate. My name was redacted in the statement, but it was painfully clear who they were referring to. I was the target, the very person they intended to put in the ground. The realization crashed over me like a wave, and I felt a cold chill creep down my spine. I had been right all along—they were plotting to take me out.

As I continued to read, my heart raced with a mix of dread and disbelief. The narrative unfolded like a twisted tale, revealing that the man they had picked up was actually an undercover cop. My mind struggled to process this new reality; the implications were staggering. This officer had managed to work his way into Jake’s circle, ingratiating himself with us under the guise of a friend, all while playing a dangerous game of deception.

The statement detailed how the cop had cleverly manipulated the situation to his advantage, using me as a pawn in a larger scheme. He had tipped over the drug dealer, orchestrating an operation that would ultimately lead to solving not only the murder plot but a whole host of other crimes connected to our circle. The sheer complexity of it all was almost overwhelming; I had unknowingly been involved in a web of criminal activity that extended far beyond what I could have imagined.

I felt a bitter taste rise in my throat as I contemplated how close I had come to oblivion. Jake’s betrayal stung even more deeply now that I understood the full scope of his actions. He had been willing to sacrifice me without a second thought to save himself, even while unwittingly placing me into the crosshairs of law enforcement. The thought of being an unwitting participant in this deadly game left a sour knot in my stomach.

I continued to dissect the statement, looking for any clues or details that could help me understand the full extent of the situation. The undercover cop had not only infiltrated our lives but had also gathered enough evidence to take down Jake and anyone else who had been involved in our illicit activities. My mind raced as I realized that the walls were closing in around Jake. He had set in motion a series of events that would ultimately lead to his downfall, and I was tangled up in it all.

As I read further, I could almost feel the tension in the air, the weight of the decisions that had been made that night pressing down on me. I was caught in a storm of emotions—rage, fear, betrayal, and a growing determination to reclaim my narrative. I couldn’t let Jake’s actions define my fate. I had to find a way to turn this situation around, to rise above the chaos and assert my own innocence.

The stakes had never been higher, and I was not about to let them take me down without a fight. I needed to find a way to use this information to my advantage. If I could expose the truth behind Jake’s treachery and the role I had unwittingly played in this undercover operation, perhaps I could salvage my future and escape the dark fate that loomed over me.

With renewed resolve, I set my mind to unraveling the threads of this complex web. The truth was out there, and I was determined to uncover it, to turn the tables on those who had sought to ensnare me. I would not be a victim; I would be a survivor, and I would fight to reclaim my life and my freedom. The battle was just beginning, and I was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Thankfully, there were no further challenges to face at that moment. I met with my lawyer, and as we sat across from each other in the cramped visiting room, he had a barrage of questions for me. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on both of us, and I could see the concern etched across his face. One of the most pressing questions he posed was whether Jake had genuinely intended to kill me. It was a grim thought, but given everything I had uncovered, it felt all too plausible.

Another question lingered in the air: why hadn’t there been backup officers following us, just in case things went sideways and Jake’s sinister plans came to fruition? It was as if the police had calculated the risks and decided that if I were to be murdered, then so be it. As long as it wasn’t their undercover cop who pulled the trigger—or at least, as long as he could claim he hadn’t done it. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like that was precisely the plan.

Freddy Dipshit, as I had come to think of him, was going to take me out, and Jake would help him bury the evidence. There was no other interpretation I could muster; the pieces fit together too neatly. In my mind’s eye, I could see it all unfolding—a perfect storm of betrayal and deceit. Once the dust settled, the cop would conveniently blame Jake for the whole scheme before he could even react. And if Jake tried to pin the blame on the officer? Well, everyone would know he was lying.

As I considered the implications of all this, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. Who would the jury believe in this tangled web of lies? After all, Jake had already thrown me under the bus, claiming I was the mastermind behind everything. It was a pattern of dishonesty that was hard to ignore. In the eyes of the law, cops were supposed to be the good guys. The narrative was clear: a cop wouldn’t shoot and kill someone, even if that person was involved in the criminal underworld. Or so the public believed.

But as I sat there, I found myself grappling with the harsh reality that this perception might not hold true in every case. I had seen too much, experienced too many betrayals, to trust blindly in the idea that justice would prevail simply because a badge was involved. The truth was that the system was flawed, and I was caught in a perilous game where the rules seemed to shift at the whims of those in power.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to process everything. The intricacies of the situation were dizzying, and I felt the weight of the world resting squarely on my shoulders. My future hung in the balance, and I had to find a way to navigate this treacherous landscape. Jake’s betrayal had put me in a precarious position, and I knew that I needed to stay one step ahead if I wanted to reclaim my life.

With my lawyer’s guidance, I began to strategize. We had to gather evidence, identify witnesses, and build a defense that could withstand the onslaught of accusations. I couldn’t let Jake’s treachery dictate my fate any longer. The stakes were high, and I was determined to turn the tide in my favor.

As I left the visiting room, I felt a flicker of resolve igniting within me. I wouldn’t be a victim in this scenario. I would fight back against the lies, the deceit, and the betrayal. I would expose the truth and ensure that justice, however elusive it might be, was served. The battle was just beginning, and I was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

And just like that, it all came to an abrupt end. Jake, in a desperate bid to save himself, went to the District Attorney and struck a deal that would seal my fate. Three days later, I found myself on a bus headed off to serve my time, the weight of the world resting heavily on my shoulders as the scenery blurred past my window. I couldn’t help but think about how swiftly everything had unraveled. The life I had known was now a distant memory, and I was left grappling with the consequences of betrayal.

Jake’s story, however, didn’t end there. He ended up in prison, where he ultimately succumbed to the harsh realities of life behind bars. The whispers around the yard suggested he had been placed in protective custody, but it didn’t shield him from the grim fate that awaited him. He died from AIDS, a tragic end to a life filled with manipulation and deceit. I couldn’t say I felt any sorrow for him; after all, he had chosen his path, and I had been merely a pawn in his game.

As for Freddy Dipshit, the man who had nearly taken my life, his luck ran out as well. He found himself in even deeper trouble with the wrong crowd, a dangerous gamble that ultimately cost him dearly. One fateful night, as he crossed a dimly lit street, a car came out of nowhere and struck him down without warning. The driver didn’t even stop; they abandoned the vehicle and fled the scene. It turned out the car was stolen, and with no fingerprints or evidence to trace, the case remained unsolved—a fitting end for someone who had danced with danger for too long.

In the months that followed, I settled into my new reality. Life in prison was a far cry from the freedoms I had taken for granted. Days melted into weeks, and I found myself surrounded by a mix of hardened criminals, each with their own stories of betrayal and survival. I made it a point to keep my head down, stay out of trouble, and focus on my release.

Through it all, I reflected on the choices I had made and the people I had trusted. I couldn’t change the past, but I could learn from it. I began to educate myself, taking advantage of any program available to earn my GED and learn skills that would help me reintegrate into society once I was released. In a twisted way, the experience became a catalyst for my growth, shaping me into a stronger and more resilient person.

Eventually, the day of my release arrived. As I stepped out of the prison gates, the sunlight hit my face, and I took a deep breath of fresh air, feeling the weight of my past slowly lifting. I knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but I was determined to rebuild my life. I had survived the storm, and now it was time to chart a new course.

With each step I took away from those prison walls, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I would not let Jake’s betrayal define me any longer. Instead, I would use the lessons learned to forge a brighter future. I promised myself that I would be a better person, one who wouldn’t fall prey to the treachery of others.

As I walked into the unknown, I embraced the uncertainty with open arms, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. I was no longer a victim; I was a survivor, and I was determined to reclaim my narrative. My past might have shaped me, but it would not control my future. The story of my life was far from over, and I was ready to write the next chapter on my own terms…

I hope you liked the free story. If you did you can get the books below from, iTunes, W. G. …

Criminal Intentions 1:

Criminal Intentions are short crime fiction collections from Author W. G. Sweet. 7 to 8 stories ranging from short to near novel length. A mix of truth, fiction and almost truth.

https://books.apple.com/us/book/criminal-intentions-1/id6670492440

#Crime #NonFiction #Fiction #Readers

Criminal Intentions 2:

Criminal Intentions is a series of books from Author W. G. Sweet that feature short stories in the Crime category. From true stories to fiction to almost true.

https://books.apple.com/us/book/criminal-intentions-2/id6670491728

#Crime #NonFiction #Fiction #Readers

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