Chapter 16

AYear Later and a Half Later

“Sir, what’s your name?” one of the three officers on duty asked for the third or fourth time. I was so committed to my character that I’d lost count.

“Just take me to my hotel room for the night,” I slurred as one of them pulled me out of the back of the patrol car.

“Put him in the drunk tank. Let morning shift book him. He’s so out of it he don’t know his own name.”

“I’m with you when you got a good idea. I’m about to see if there’s any more cake in the break room.”

I threw myself on the bench against the wall and closed my eyes.

I had exactly twenty minutes to carry out my plan.

Once the officers were out of earshot, I sat up.

The sound of keys jingling got closer as I stood and walked over to the bars.

When Blaine’s connect unlocked the cell, I stepped out and followed him as he escorted me to the shower.

“Count to ten then move fast. The cameras are only going to be down for twenty minutes. My guy is waiting for you.”

I nodded but didn’t speak as I stood out of view of the camera. He gave me twenty minutes. I wouldn’t even need ten. After counting to ten, I made my move. I never slowed down as I passed my guy standing in a cut. I had studied the map enough to know how to get exactly where I was going.

When I made it to the end of the hall, I went to the supply closet that was unlocked as promised. I found the vent in the wall over the shelves and used it to crawl up into the crawl space. I counted the dorms as I slid my body from one to the next.

When I made it to the fifth vent, I turned and nudged the vent cover to make sure that it was open.

The screws were out at the bottom as promised.

I slid out and dropped down on the desk in the small office.

I climbed down off the desk, looking out of the dingy rectangular window before letting myself out.

Once I was sure I was in the right place, I didn’t stop moving until I was in front of Ceasar’s cell.

Since he was in the lockdown unit, he had a private cell.

That worked in our favor. Not Ceasar’s, of course, but my wife and son would be grateful if they knew.

After I heard the lock on the door pop, I didn’t stop moving until I had my hands around Ceasar’s neck.

“Remember me?” I asked, speaking directly in his ear.

He couldn’t answer, but I was sure he remembered me.

Even if he didn’t, tonight was the night he would meet his fate.

He fought against my hold as I snatched him out of the bed and wrapped my bicep around his throat.

His attempt to buck against my grip on his was almost comical.

His obituary wouldn’t mention how he fought to the death.

I would be the only one to know the truth.

I grunted through my nose as I leaned back, further restricting Ceasar’s windpipe.

He tapped my arm like crazy, but there was no tapping out in this game.

This was the end for him. I didn’t let go of him until his body went limp.

Still, I held on a little longer just because you could never be too sure.

There would never be a man on this Earth who could say he posed a danger to my wife and our ten kids.

I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that Ceasar might get off at his sentencing next week. I couldn’t let it happen.

Once he gave up the fight, I shoved Ceasar’s lifeless body off me and made quick work of winding the sheets from his bed into a makeshift rope.

Once it was to my liking, I looped it around his neck and tightened it even more.

I secured the noose around the end of the bed and slid Ceasar’s body to the end until the rope was snug.

With that mission complete, I let myself out and headed back to the vent.

I made it back to the holding cell with five minutes to spare.

I watched the lights flicker, knowing that the cameras were likely up again.

Now all I had to do was wait. I had another guy coming in on morning shift.

Between him and one of the officers that had conveniently arrested me for public intoxication without booking me, I knew I would be home in time for breakfast. For good measure, I’d sent Kross a message to pick me up at seven a mile down the road.

“Happy birthday, dear KJ. Happy birthday to you.”

Once everybody was done singing, I smashed the miniature cake in my son’s face, causing him to scream to the top of his lungs.

“Kannon, I’ma get you about messing with my baby,” my mama fussed as she rushed over to soothe him.

I laughed at how animated she was sometimes. “He’s all right, Mama. It’s just cake.”

“Men are supposed to play a little rough with their sons,” Warren chimed in.

As much as I hated to admit it, he wasn’t so bad.

After I walked in on him sitting at the table reading the newspaper in his drawers and jacked him up by the neck, my mama made me apologize and explained how happy he made her.

That was enough information for me to let him live.

Plus, my mom promised to cut me off from Sunday dinners and my monthly personal sweet potato pie. That was the real motivation.

“I don’t know about no DNA test, but his melon head ass damn sure looks like you,” Keywan noted.

“He should. I fed his ass enough.”

“Kannon!” Carteay called, swatting me on the arm from behind me. I turned to find her cute ass trying to look menacing with her arms folded across her chest.

“I’m sorry, baby. You see how they corrupt me?” I asked, pulling her soft body against mine.

Even with an adorable baby boy, who I agreed looked a lot like me, Carteay was still my big baby.

Sometimes she got annoyed with how I loved on her and showered her with affection, but I wanted her to know that she was loved.

The shit she went through with the label didn’t define her as a woman.

She was a star with or without me or Big Time Records.

Her eyes dropped to my chest, and I used my hand to tip her chin up so that our eyes connected again. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked.

“Aww hell, it’s another baby,” Keywan mumbled with his ear hustling ass.

I pushed him. “I hope so. Why don’t you go over there with your niece and nephews or better yet your own daughter? Kross, come get your brother.”

“Keywan, what are you over there doing now?” Iyla questioned.

Carteay giggled at the exchange as if anything about my brothers was comical. No matter how much I tried to explain that my brothers weren’t wrapped too tight, she liked them anyway and thought they were hilarious.

“It’s not,” she said, looking back at Keywan.

“You don’t have to tell him nothing, baby.”

He bucked at me before strolling over to where my mom was serving cake and ice cream. I was so proud of the way Carteay had been thriving as an independent artist. Cheyenne had made several attempts to get her to re-sign to Big Time Records under her, but so far, Carteay was enjoying full autonomy.

When we made it upstairs to our bedroom, she turned to face me. “Where were you last night, Kannon?”

“Making the world safer for my family.”

“Ceasar’s sentencing is coming up soon. How are you feeling?”

I shrugged. “I’m good, and you should be too. We’re not worried about him.”

She narrowed her eyes, but thankfully, she dropped it. “What I have to show you is two parts?”

I sighed. “C, you know I don’t like surprises, baby.”

“Since when don’t you like surprises, Kannon?”

“Since right now. I’m pretty sure this is the first time anyone ever tried to surprise me.”

“Well, this is a good one,” she said, pulling her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and swiping her finger across the screen a few times.

I was fully prepared to hear one of those custom-made love songs or something. I didn’t even know why when Carteay was a singer and songwriter herself. She held the phone out between us and pressed play. After a second, I heard her voice.

“This album is very personal. It came from the depths of my soul. I made sure every single track spoke to me and through me. This album is dedicated to my son and the man who saved me, the man he calls Dada.”

I shook my head to combat the burning sensation in my eyes. “You finished the album?”

“I finished the album.” She nodded. “That’s not it. I know you forbid me from doing it, but I got the test.”

“Carteay,” I snapped, raising my arm so that I could pull away from her.

“Kannon, I know we talked about this, but it’s not fair that you don’t know.” She removed a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and pushed it toward me.

“I don’t want to hear this shit,” I said, snatching the paper out of her hand and storming back into the house. Carteay caught the arm of my shirt, stopping me before I could go further into the house. “I asked you not to do that shit, Carteay. I begged you.”

“He’s yours, Kannon. Look at it. He’s yours, baby.”

My legs had never given out on me, but just like that, I was on my hands and knees.

There was no fighting back the tears that overcame me like a tsunami.

He was mine. I’d named our son Kannon Glover Jr. before I knew for certain that he was mine.

Science didn’t get to determine who my family was, but I’d be damned if the confirmation didn’t feel good.

“Where is Dada?” I heard my mama asking in the little voice that let me know my little man wasn’t far behind.

“Dada!” His little voice cheered when I looked up at him.

As much as I meant that I never wanted to know who his biological father was, it felt good to finally know the truth.

Not that I would have loved him any less, but my heart soared now that I had confirmation.

There was never an ounce of doubt in my mind that KJ was my son.

At the same time, I could admit that I was too afraid to find out the truth.

Now seeing the spitting image of myself reaching for me went a little hard.

“What’s wrong, baby?” my mom asked as she took careful steps deeper in the room. When she was right next to me, I took my namesake from her and held him close to my chest and kissed the top of his head.

“Nothing at all, Mama. Nothing at all. For the first time in a long time, everything is all right. He’s mine, Mama.”

“I knew it. I just knew it!” my mom shouted. “He’s got your bighead.”

“We love you, Dada,” Carteay sang as she hugged my head to her middle.

I gathered myself, kissing the top of my wife’s head before speaking. “You know I got y’all forever, C. By the time we come off the road, we will have our own little singing group. Ma, Carteay wants ten kids.”

“Well, the Lord did say be fruitful and multiply.”

“He’s lying, Mrs. Glover. Kannon, stop.” Carteay laughed, playfully shoving my head.

“I love you too, Carteay. Forever. Now let’s go downstairs and tell everyone the news.”

The End

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