Chapter 6 Bentley
BENTLEY
My level of annoyance was through the roof as I sat across from my attorney.
I trusted this nigga for a whole year and nothing seemed to change.
I was still sitting in the same damn place with no fuckin’ results.
Nobody, and I did mean nobody had an answer for me.
I was starting to think me being in this bitch was of satisfaction to they ass.
“Bentley, you have to understand, whoever did this knew you. We both know this was a set up but who can we blame or investigate?
Windale been working with me long enough to know better than to give me excuses.
Lame ass excuses at that. As much money I put in that nigga pockets, I couldn’t help but wonder why the hell I was still waking up in a six by nine by to the sounds of a guard telling me where and how to go.
My black ass should’ve never made it here to begin with.
The nigga was steady running his mouth, but I’d been mentally checked out for the past year.
I knew I wasn’t God, and I knew I wasn’t above the law.
However, this was pure bull with my name plastered across it.
I wasn’t taking this L. Muthafuckas knew that, so I was genuinely curious as to what the fuck was the hold up.
I sat back in the chair with my focus locked in on him. Feeding me whatever the fuck you thought I wanted to hear never flew with me.
“Windale, riddle me this. If I had all the goddamn answers, what the hell do I need you for? I could have stood in that courtroom and represented my damn self. You forgetting a nigga did pre-law as a second major. My black ass walked out that courtroom with ten years attached to it. Explain to me what the hell you did as my attorney Windale.”
Any other day, I’d show a bit more composure. Windale was no stranger to my temper though. Right now, he was the only muthafucka pissin’ me off. Getting chaperoned out of that pissy ass cell every week for more weak ass excuses was starting to make me lose my shit.
“If you could just give me a name or a clue as to who would want to see you locked up, I would have somewhere to start. Bentley, you have to know something.”
“Okay. Aight. Well, here’s a clue. How ‘bout you start with Miami. Matter of fact, the whole goddamn state of Florida want a nigga gone. Just line them ungrateful muthafuckas up one by one and see who admits to the shit,” I voiced with rage.
Running my hand down my face, I tugged at my beard to try and recenter myself.
It was clear that a nigga was on edge, but if this incompetent muthafucka didn’t come back with some real fuckin’ results, them crackers was gon’ be adding another charge to my shit.
I was gon’ lay hands and feet on him and that was the God honest truth.
“That’s not really helping Bentley. Have you beefed with anyone lately? Maybe it was an argument someone couldn’t let go and wanted to retaliate,” he suggested.
“Windale, you been on retainer with me for years, and I’ve given you yo’ props each and every damn time, but right now you got me questioning the hell out yo’ credentials. Next time you come here, I want to hear something other than I’m still looking. Do yo’ job and get me the fuck out of here.”
“I’m trying, Bentley.”
“You ain’t trying hard enough!” I shouted banging my fist against the metal table.
“I been giving you time to do yo’ thing but my patience hanging on by a thread.
You and I both know how this shit can get when I run out of fucks to give…
King Kong,” I threatened. I didn’t blink not once so this nigga knew I meant business.
The terrified expression that instantly surfaced was damn near comical. He was a grown ass man so if playing was the way he wanted go ‘bout this, then so be it. However, once I sent Kong his way, it was lights out ‘round them parts.
Him getting one of my hard-working employees off was one thing, but the nigga that made sure everybody ate had to sit on his ass and wait for good news.
I was utterly confused at why I couldn’t get the same treatment.
It was my funds keeping his pockets fat to begin with.
It was taking everything in me not to slap the taste out his mouth and fire his ass.
My nerves and patience had been tapped danced on for far too long.
Standing to my feet, I called for the guard. I was over this pointless visit and was ready to go back to my cell. Windale wasn’t coming with nothing informative anyway. His check-ins were becoming useless and a waste of time.
“Bentley, I will find the missing piece,” he reassured me. It would’ve meant something if I really believed that shit. I ain’t have no faith in him once I hit that year marker and nothing changed. He ain’t made progress in 365 days. I couldn’t trust or depend on him no more.
I looked down at my bare wrist and tapped it twice, letting Windale know his time was running out. I meant what I said. If he ain’t come with good news next visit, Kong was gaining another body. He knew the risk and still decided to play. Play on nigga but watch yo’ back while doing it.
As soon as I turned around to leave, this fine ass C.O.
named Ryia stepped in. She held the cuffs up wearing a sly grin.
She must’ve just got to work ‘cause she wasn’t the one that walked me down to meet Windale.
With my wrist extended in her direction, she wrapped the metal around them.
Gently tugging on the shackles, she led me out the room and back to my cell.
I was serving at a federal prison, so shit moved different from the way it would in state.
For the most part, it was pretty chilled, so the cuffs only came out during transit.
Most of the female officers could easily be overpowered by the niggas in here but none of them tried it.
The majority of the inmates accepted their time and rolled with the punches.
My frame was tall and stocky as fuck. One of the tallest niggas in this bitch.
A simple shoulder bump would drop Ryia where she stood.
However, it wasn’t a purpose to do so. Where the hell was I gon’ go?
It was sealed door after sealed door. There was no escaping this bitch.
Pulling toilet seats up and creating a hole like them other dumbass niggas wasn’t going down.
A nigga was desperate but not smelling shit desperate.
Shaking off that whack ass visit, I threw my attention to shawty. The way her ass moved in them tight ass pants made me miss the outside world to the fullest. From loving the ladies to not having one to ride made me miss my freedom more and more.
“You wore those for me, huh?” I said trailing my tongue across my bottom lip.
She turned around wearing that same grin saying, “You wish baby boy.”
“Bullshit. You know good and goddamn well you like when a nigga looking. It’s cool. I know how to look and not touch,” I threw back.
She stopped in her tracks and closed the small gap between us. She was up on her toes and still wasn’t at a level to whisper in a nigga ear. “Atkins, are you flirting with an officer?”
“Hell nah. I’m flirting with yo’ ass,” I spoke in a serious tone. Ryia was a pig either way it went but she held weight in all the right places. I’d have her ass pent to a wall taking her down if I really wanted her.
I couldn’t lie. The way I hadn’t been able to enjoy the visuals of a woman outside these walls, had me eyeing her like a child would candy in a store.
Ryia was genuinely pretty as fuck though.
However, she was an opp no matter how you looked at it.
Nice on the eyes but would never get me to cross that line if it was thrown.
The way her yellow ass was turning red to the way that one deep dimple she sported dipped in, I knew she was feeling a nigga.
The uniform pants she decided to wear today was making that ass sit up just right.
She was one of the only female officers that came to work smelling like a fuckin’ woman too.
She knew the niggas in here needed that softness every now and again and she provided it.
Once we reached my cell, she stopped me right in front of it. “I don’t want no shit out of you today, Atkins. Give a girl a break, aight?”
“You saying that like I just be poppin’ off in this muthafucka. Don’t fuck with me, and I won’t put you down. Plain and simple. I keep telling yo’ pretty ass that. Check them niggas, not me. Then again, you must be looking for any excuse to put yo’ hands on me,” I teased.
“Inside Atkins and watch your mouth. We’re back in the main hall,” she stated in a stern tone.
Scoffing, I entered my cell with my hands raised in front of me so that she could take off the shackles.
If it was any other C.O., the cuffs would’ve been digging in my skin.
You better believe I went off every goddamn time too.
I wasn’t one of them yes boys they could play with or push around.
When I first got in this muthafucka, I wasn’t really sweating it since I knew I wasn’t gon’ spend too much time here.
However, the magic I thought Windale had didn’t work for me.
This entire situation still didn’t sit right with me.
I had a few officers on payroll, so when that goofy ass officer pulled me over, I was ready for him to give me my ticket and head to the crib.
Imagine my fuckin’ surprise when them damn pigs pulled out two bricks from my whip.
What made it so bad, I was the only muthafucka in shock.
Immediately I could tell a nigga had been set up.
One quick glance at the packaging, and I knew that shit ain’t belong to me.
However, what the fuck was I supposed to say to prove it didn’t?
My shit ain’t wrapped and tagged like that?
Show them my personal logo so they’ll know what to look for next time?
Nah., I had to wear that shit, but Windale was the man that was supposed to get that shit off my back.