Chapter 17
Four months after the raid…
One hundred one.
One hundred two.
One hundred three.
One hundred four.
Footsteps crept toward my cell. Mine was the only one on the unit of the maximum security facility. It was made annoyingly clear they were headed in my direction. Interaction with the low lives who thrived on the small taste of authority made my balls itch. In their real lives, they were bitches.
Suckers.
Less than.
Replaceable.
Not too many would suffer when they came up missing because each and every one of them would with time. To keep from adding additional time to my pending sentence, I kept my hands to myself. But, it was a struggle.
Restrict his airways. Silence him once and for all.
Confinement sharpened the voices in my head. They were louder. Bolder. More demanding. The guard appeared, pulling at his collar with one hand and swiping his baton on the bars with the other. I looked up momentarily, eyes locking on his neck.
Snap it.
“Childers.”
One hundred five.
One hundred six.
One hundred seven.
One hundred eight.
I continued my set. One hundred and fifty in the morning. One hundred and fifty at sunset. One hundred and fifty before bed. Pushing my body to its limits kept my thoughts in my head and the urge to act on them much more tolerable.
“Childers.”
One hundred nine.
One hundred ten.
One hundred eleven.
One hundred twelve.
With my eyes trained on the wall of the small cell, I locked in to complete the last leg of this morning’s set. The sound of cuffs caused my nostrils to flare. There were only one of three things that could be happening.
I was being transported.
I had a visitor.
A pig was here to talk to me.
I wasn’t interested in either scenario. In my cell was where I wanted to remain until the sunset so I could hit the floor and get another set in.
“Time to cuff up.”
One hundred twenty-five.
One hundred twenty-six.
One hundred twenty-seven.
One hundred twenty-eight.
“Childers.”
Sever the spine.
“I’m easily provoked,” I admitted.
I smiled, contemplating the acts I’d played out countless times in my head.
“I don’t give a fuck. This is nothing like out there. Get your ass beat in here.”
By you?I was closed to asking but understood it would be a waste of words.
“You’re a sick fucker. Always laughing and talking to the fucking wall.”
Punish him.
Lowly, I sniggered, listening to him go on and on about my unusual behavior. Truthfully, I minded my business and wished they’d all do the same because it could save their lives. Not this one though.
“Cuffs, man!”
One hundred forty-eight.
One hundred forty-nine.
One fifty.
Without haste, I stood on my feet and rotated my arms to keep my muscles from locking. I stretched my entire body, waiting until my back popped twice.
“Come on, Childers. I’m not waiting all day.”
You’re free to leave.
Don’t let him leave.
Conversing inside was like nails on a chalkboard. Instead of entertaining the pointless human, I began redressing at a snail’s pace. My shirt slid down my arms with ease. I pulled the freshly dried white socks over my bare feet. Without them on during my sets, I had more leverage and a better grip. After getting my shoes on, I brushed the wrinkles out of my sheets.
“This motherfucker,” the CO hissed, kissing his yellowing teeth.
When there was nothing more to be done in my cell, I turned around, faced the back wall, and placed my hands in the slit designed for trays and cuffing inmates.
89203259128499.
I was no longer a person according to the government. I was a fucking number.
“Open!” he called out, taking his eyes off me for a few seconds too long.
Wrong move.
I stepped away from the bars with my wrists cuffed. The door opened eight inches exactly by the time my arms rotated, ending up in front of me. I reached out into the hallway, and brought Chubbs, the CO, into the cell, using my cuffs to apply pressure on his throat.
“Scream and I’ll break it.”
“Yo. Alright. Alright. Man. Please. I have a fucking kid, man. I have a daughter.”
“Does she know her daddy is a bitch?” I asked, shoving him forward and back into the hallway where the cameras could see him.
Partially satisfied, I stepped into the hallway after him. Dramatically, he leaned forward, holding onto his neck.
Humorous.I laughed, finding him comical.
“You’re a sick ba–”
“No, Chubbs. I am a killer. And I will kill, no matter the environment. Keep fucking around and you will find out.”
Without another word, he continued down the hallway, leading me to what felt like doomsday.
Good.
The small, nearly empty room I entered was familiar. Three times before I’d been dragged inside. Each time, I was questioned by another official of some kind, from another branch, with hopes of cracking me. They wasted hours of their days because even with a lawyer present, I had nothing to say. If they had charges to bring against me, then I’d make them do their fucking jobs.
Giving them a case when theirs was barely intact was out of the question. With the evidence they had against me, the most time I’d see on the inside was four years. That could change, but for now, I wasn’t too worried. They were very lucky they’d even gotten four months out of me. I was simply sitting so the attention would remain on the subject in custody and not be dispersed among my sisters.
I’d remain in custody as long as it meant them staying free. Keeping them busy building my case gave them very little time to build anything against my girls. Exasperated with the impromptu visits, I had a seat at the table and waited to be cuffed to it. To my surprise, I was released from the cuffs and left alone in the room. This could only mean I was getting a privileged visit.
Who the visit was from, I didn’t have an idea. My lawyer wasn’t scheduled to visit me for another three weeks. Because I refused to mumble another word to the staff I knew was on the other side of the door, I got comfortable and let the wait begin.
Six-hundred-and-fourteen seconds later, the door stretched. I didn’t budge. Footsteps closed in, stopping in front of the empty chair across the table. It wasn’t until my guest was seated that I recognized exactly who they were.
“Here to replace council this evening. We have quite a bit of business to discuss.”
Priest sat a few inches away, disguised behind thick glasses, a folder full of unnecessary documents, a briefcase, and a suit. My lips curled upward slightly as I leaned back in my seat.
“Shall we begin?”
“We should.”
Because I couldn’t get to The Triad of Ara, The Triad of Ara had come to me. He adjusted his glasses, taking a second to gather his thoughts. At the clearing of his throat, the pit of my stomach emptied. The hollow dwelling was where my heart rested. The dread on Priest’s face was daunting. He cleared his throat a second time.
“My sisters?”
He shook his head.
“My brothers?”
I could feel the contortion of my face as I asked one question after the other.
He shook his head again.
“No.”
I waited for him to continue.
“Your father,” he revealed.
The oxygen in the room evaporated.
“He is no longer with us.”
Comprehension was farfetched. I couldn’t… I didn’t understand what he was telling me.
“Come again.”
“Richie is no longer with us.”
My stomach flipped twelve hundred times in a matter of seconds. My heart struggled to continue beating, continue pumping. Half of it had been ripped from my chest.
“We are keeping his remains safe. They will not go underground until you touch soil.”
I ached, awfully. And though I wanted to know the rest of the context of the meeting, I’d reached my capacity.
“I– I need to– to go get my head together.”
“Business, Chemist. Business.”
“You’re telling me my fucking pops died and you want me to talk business? Nigga, are you hearing yourself right now?”
“Composed Chem. Where is he?”
“Fuck him and fuck business.”
“This isn’t The Triad of Ara business,” Priest whispered. “This is Chemistry’s business. I’m only here out of courtesy. Don’t waste my time and I won’t waste yours.”
“Speak, nigga.”
“Your father made arrangements before he left us.”
“Arrangements?”
“A sacrifice.”
My eyes grew as my heart shrunk, constricted and confused.
“A sacrifice?”
It was a commandment, but one that had never been utilized. It was one of the many we were aware of but hadn’t exercised.
“Who?”
Rome. The name circled in my head. I prepared to flip the fucking table if her name came from his lips. She was a baby. Though she was nineteen, she was still a baby and there wasn’t a nigga in The Triad of Ara who deserved her or her innocence. I’d never forgive myself if she became a casualty of circumstances.
“Rather.”
“Why not Roaman? Why not Range? Or Royce?”
“You know how this works, Chem. Youngest or the closest to her. They’re both of age, but your father wasn’t willing to give the youngest of your siblings away.”
“Who will she– fuck.”
“The youngest of our flock. In addition to the arranged nuptials, she will receive full protection.”
“I understand.”
I digested what he was telling me one word at a time. Though we’d kept the girls out of our dealings with The Triad of Ara, we were certain they’d cross paths one day. This wasn’t how we’d expected the acquaintance to come to fruition, but we could only play the cards we were dealt at this point.
“They’re good girls, Priest. Every one of them is just mixed up in this crazy world we created for them. Rather is special. Make sure your people treat her well.”
“You have my word.”
“They won’t return until their freedom is solidified.”
“We understand. Upon their return, introductions will be made and we will move forward.”
“Is that all?”
I was ready to put an end to this meeting and take the rest of the day to decompress. So much was being dumped on me at once. There hadn’t been a single piece of information I was happy to hear but Rather’s protection order.
“It isn’t.”
“Fuck. I can’t suffer through another round of bullshit.”
“Tell me, Chem, how else will you get the information I have for you in this meeting.”
“Talk,” I huffed. His accuracy was disarming.
“Egypt Johanson.”
He had my full attention. My spine straightened like a rod. My eyebrows hiked on my forehead. My thoughts immediately became fuzzy. There were so many unresolved feelings there that I still needed to work through. Today wouldn’t be the day. Most likely, it wouldn’t be tomorrow either.
“We had no idea what she knew. How much she knew. What she planned to do with the information she had access to. What she’d already said… did… She needed to be taken care o–”
My teeth grinded against each other. I bit into my bottom lip, extracting blood from two different places.
“If any-fucking-body touches a fucking hair on Egypt’s head, when I touch soil, I will wage a war that will end every fucking lineage of The Triad of Ara. Bloodlines won’t survive a week of my freedom. And that is on my fucking father and my mother. May they both rest peacefully in hell.”
Taking a breath, I continued.
“She’s proved the exact belief The Triad of Ara has tried to dismantle from day one. Women are capable! Even with feelings involved, the job will still get done. I have eleven siblings, seven of which are women and offsprings of a founder. At least three of them are beyond capable. They have what it takes to sit at that table when and if I can’t.”
“Eden–”
“We don’t have shit to talk about when it comes to her.”
“Your anxiousness is off-putting. I’ve never known you to be a man of little patience.”
“Stop blowing smoke up my ass.”
At the mention of Egypt, I’d lost all my composure. It didn’t exist. It never had with her. That lone fact angered me more than the Priest had with his statement. The thought of them having harmed her had me foaming at the mouth. The realization that I had yet to dismiss my feelings for her had me brimming with anger.
“You never let me finish,” he told me.
“Then what are we waiting for?”
“She needed to be taken care of. We had every intention, but the hit was called off. We were forced to abort the mission.”
“We don’t abort missions,” I reminded him. “Why was it called off?”
“Because she is in possession of something precious to The Triad of Ara. Something we are unable to interfere with, no matter what she’s done.”
“What does she have?”
“A possible heir.”
My heart sank into my stomach.
The meeting continued long after I’d been struck in the chest several times and had ended only minutes ago. With each step I took toward my cell, my heart broke a little more. Choosing peace over the violence I wanted to ensure, I entered my cell and drug my feet toward my bed.
In a matter of minutes, I’d been reduced to almost nothing. For the third time in my life, my heart broke. It broke loudly. Rapidly. Painfully.
First my mother.
Then, Eden… Egypt.
And my father.
I laid my back against the sheets and folded my hands in front of me, resting one on my chest where it hurt the most.
“Pops,” I whispered.
My eyes pricked with saltiness. A single blink released the tears. Slowly, deliberately, they rolled down the sides of my face. They were a foreign concept to me. Since I’d been a teenager and received the news my mother had ended her life and Maurice’s just seconds before, I hadn’t shed a tear.
“Pops.” Lowly, I wept.
It was as if I’d been injured, physically and emotionally. Something sharp, big, and heavy pierced my heart. Something ruthless. Something inexplicable.
“Mom.”
Catherine.
Maurice.
My fear of being a parentless child, even in adulthood, had come to fruition. Losing my father was an overwhelming fear of mine and it had come to fruition.
Oh, Rhea.
The heartbreak she must’ve felt broke me some more. Tears flowed freely, unapologetically.
Roaman.
Covering my eyes, I began to weep into the sleeve of my shirt.
Rather.
Roulette.
Royce.
My chest caved as the oxygen fled my body.
Range.
Rugger.
She wasn’t as invincible as she portrayed to be. Her heart was pure. She loved hard and the man who’d helped create her, she loved most. I used my fist to pat my chest, desperate for air.
“Rome.”
Barely audible, I called the name of the person who worried me most. She’d reached twenty mere months ago. Fatherless was no way to begin the journey of adulthood.
Mercer.
Makai.
Malachi.
“Milo.”
He was the youngest, the baby of the bunch when our mother committed the murder-suicide.
I wasn’t there.
I’m not there.
The pain was crippling. Clarke had welcomed me as a permanent resident by the time everything went downhill. The system had welcomed me as an inmate this time, filling me with unprecedented amounts of regret.
I was in the middle of the ocean at a maximum security prison laying on a flat pillow and previously used sheets. At my fucking lowest, I’d been assured there was more depths to reach. I didn’t have the privilege of holding my siblings in my arms as they cried into my chest. I didn’t have the privilege to wipe the tears from their eyes, although it was only to make room for more. I didn’t have the privilege of lying to them like everything would be okay.
Not this time and not the last time, either. That shit cut deep.