Drug Dealer Girl

It's a very interesting thing, waking up in jail with a bunch of random criminals standing around you. But that's exactly what happened. I decided not to ask anyone the question that was bothering me the most, was I going to be sentenced. Right then a prison guard appeared at the cell door and called my name. I groaned as I stood and made my way toward him.

"You're free to go Ms.Rolinski," he nodded as I passed by. I nearly had a heart attack right then. What happened while I was out? I manage to get out of jail and a hearing while I tried to escape from the police and was found running from what was most likely considered a crime scene. I wasn't going to mention that to anyone else though.

I was lead out of the doors to a sort of lobby. On the way I passed Murillo, Alvarez, Ragan, Terrell, Decker, and St. Claire all together in a holding cell. They all stood up as I passed by. I winked at them an waved slightly. If looks could kill, I'd be dead on the floor right now.

The guard took me out into the lobby before returning back to wherever he'd come from.

He was standing in the corner wearing all black. A suspicious tall figure. His long black trench coat had the collar pulled up, shadowing his face.

I knew this wasn't going to go over well.

I walked slowly over to him, dreading our confrontation with every painful step. When I was about 5 feet away from him, he turned and made his way out of the lobby. I followed behind him, hurrying to match his long strides. There was an uncomfortable silence between us, or it was uncomfortable for me. I knew he was angry, but how he chose to express his fury was a mystery to me.

"The cops don't have anything," I blurted, trying to get him to talk.

"I know." He stated simply.

"How?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Do you think they'd fucking let you out if they had found any of that shit?" he replied in an inferior tone.

"True. Did any of the others see you?" I questioned.

"Do you seriously think I'm that fucking stupid. Hell no! We're already in enough shit as it is," he muttered angrily.

"Fine. Calm down," I mumbled.

"You're telling me to calm down? Do you know all the shit I just had to go through. Explaining what the fuck you were doing and convincing them you were fucking innocent when you're everything but!" he snarled angrily.

"You know I would have done the same thing," I pointed out, unfazed by his outburst. I was used to it by now.

He sighed. "That's why I'm not going to shoot you," he told me. I knew he was dead serious.

"I was smart enough to hide everything," I informed him.

"Lead the way," he rolled his eyes as if I was a hassle, which I was. But up until this point I had miraculously managed to avoid the police.

I hid my smile and started off toward the alley where I had hidden all the stuff that would have landed me in jail for a couple years.

"Won't there be cops?" I asked.

"They have bigger fucking issues. Some guy got murdered or some shit last night and since I told them you were fucking innocent they decided it wasn't actually a damn crime scene," he explained.

"Right. Wonderful."

I headed down the alley, walking as if I owned it. I made my way toward the dumpster. I popped the lid up and grabbed the gun, cash, and weed that was all lying on top. I slid the bag of drugs into my coat and handed the gun and money to Aron.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," he smirked before turning and making his way out of the alley. I walked behind him.

"Am I gonna be in trouble?" I asked him.

"No one else has heard a fucking thing that I know of. But if they have then yes. You're in deep shit. They all know I have favorites and you're one of them. The only one actually. But either way you're fucked," he told me.

"Right. Someone will blab their mouth and everyone will be all up on me because I stayed out of being punished," I said in a bitchy tone of voice.

"Sounds about right," Aron replied. "Especially if the Undead get out. Then you're really fucked up."

"Well that really brightens my day. Think this will start another problem with them?" I asked.

"As of now, they're all on their way to jail. But if they manage to fucking get out, then we're all in a load of shit," he muttered. I nodded, thinking about how they could probably get out of jail. They were the ones who got beat up, so I guess they could say they got mugged or something. But 6 people against 1 guy. Not a very likely story.

Well I guess we'll just have to add another point to 9 Lives, I thought. It was true. Most of the arguments between Hollywood Undead and us resulted in us winning. That was one of the problems of drug dealing between two rival gangs. But they needed the drugs and we had them.