Page 3 of Inmate 0976371

“Correct.”

“Uhm…” she pauses and looks me up and down, raising a brow like they always do. Yeah, I know he and I look nothing alike. LaMarcus takes after his father, and I’m the spitting image of our mama, but that’s none of this bitch’s business. All she needs to do is sign and let me the fuck in. I’m already thirty minutes late, and I just know he’s anxious up in there thinking I couldn’t make it. “You don’t look like him,” she curls her lip, and I know what’s going on immediately.

She must be one of them guards that got bust down by him and she think I’m lying trying to sneak a visit.Well, think again, wantch.

“I brought my birth certificate as well as his, if you need to see it,” I cheese like a Cheshire cat, showing all teeth so this hoe know I’ll bite her ass if she keeps playing with me.

“No need,” she snorts and signs off, handing me my paper as the other guard who’d checked my car comes over to wand and pat me down as I take off my shoes. Thankfully, he’s at least betterthan her personality-wise, but I notice his slick-ass copping a feel.

“Done,” he tells me. I leave the room, not bothering to thank either of them.Man, I hate coming up here.

I wait for them to open the gate, set my license in the bucket and wait for her to use the pulley to check it from the top of the guard tower when a sudden gust of wind barrels through, nearly knocking me over and causing the slip of paper to fly from my hands. I catch that shit quick fast and in a hurry before it blows away because who knows how got damn long it’ll be before they can get me another one.I can guarantee that bitch would take her sweet time, and I ain’t got the patience for that right now.

Grumbling, my eyes gravitate to the sky.Shit…those dark-ass grey clouds look ominous as hell.On God I’ma be pissed if I get stuck in that damn hurricane and have to wait on the highway for hours before I get to my place! Ain’t nobody got time for that shit!

I’m hungry! I’m tired, and I have work Monday morning. I’ll have to smile and grin in them white folks face being all performative and shit…I just want to go home, listen to a nasty audio book or read smut, play with my pussy, and sleep!

I swear we are the only damn state that can have all four seasons in one day. Nervous at the winds that are picking up, I chew my lip, wondering if I reallyshouldcancel, but it would be a waste. It’s a short visit…I’m sure the weather will be okay by the time I leave.

When the lookout guard sends my license back down, I open the next gate and march over to the building where my visit is. I go check in and sit where the monitor places me, but before I take a seat, I pull out my pack of quarters and buy all my brother’s favorite things.

It’s funny how this negro been in prison for fifteen years but he still a picky eater. I grab the plate and napkins, wipe them down, and pop the three bags of cheesy Doritos open, dumping them on the napkin-covered plate and taking it over to our area along with the Starburst and Sprite, setting everything down as I wait for him.

Thankfully it doesn’t take long and soon I see his big light-skinned self come out, cheesing hard as hell. I go around and stop at the red carpet to give him a big hug and take our picture before I go back around and sit across from him.

“I thought you weren’t gon’ make it,” he grumbles with his gritty accent, picking up a chip and crunching.

“You know that wasn’t going to happen,” I raise a brow, crossing my arms, a bit frustrated with him as his buff ass scarfs down all the chips.

“Yeah, I know, but still… I wasn’t sure.” He glances up, and I sigh.

“Well, after all this time, youshouldknow, Marcus. When have I nevernotkept my promise?” I rebut, and he sits back, popping open the Sprite with a nod.

“Yeah, I ought to know better, but still…”

“But. Still. Nothing. I said I was gon’ ta visit, so here I am,” I strain out, annoyed that my country ass Acres Homes accent slips out even though I’ve done everything in my damn power to rid myself of it. Working downtown and dealing with high-value men and women with more zeros in their banks than I thought could exist, you have to have a certain dialect and attitude to make them white folk respect you and trust you with their assets.

So, keeping my cool and playing the game is how I survive, but Marcus, along with the rest of my bogus ass family, always finds a way to push my mother fucking buttons.

He sighs and scratches his head, sitting back while looking me over in my casual wear, and I already know he gon’ have something to say.

“I get it. My bad, Robbie. Thanks for coming. I always appreciate it since you and Cassidy are the only ones who show up for me,” he states, talking about his baby mama who surprisingly has been holding it down for him since he went to prison all those years ago.

You look nice today. I never get to see my baby sister in her casual clothes,” he smiles wide, calling me by my childhood nickname that no one even calls me by no more because I absolutely fucking hate it, but he’s been locked up so long I don’t even have the heart to correct him, so he’s the only one who calls me that nowadays.

“Thanks, but I didn’t go to work today. I just hopped out of bed and come right on over,” I let him know, leaving out the part about Mama. I usually visit him on Saturdays after work, but this is a rare off day for me. In reality, anyone would think I’m crazy as hell to drive all the way to Rosharon on my off day when I could be laying my butt at home doing nothing, but I’m the only one of our siblings willing to make the drive. I know these visits are important to him, so I don’t mind giving up my Saturdays for him.

“Ah,” he nods. “That explains it,” he adds as he opens up a pack of Starbursts.

“How you been, Marcus? Are they treating you right up in there? I know you’re getting ready to come up for parole, and I heard guys get jealous and start trying to mess up people chances of getting out.” I sit forward, looking him over, worried even though I know I shouldn’t be because LaMarcus is not the typa nigga to let someone get the best of him. And though he’s a changed man after all this time, I can tell by his knuckles he’s still got them rocka bye babies.

“You already know the answer to that, baby sis. Nobody in here stupid enough to fuck up my chances, and if they are…” he smirks, trailing off, and I sit back, relieved.

“Good. I’m glad to hear that. You know Mama and the others be worried about you,” I tell him and he snorts.

“Then tell Mama and the others ta come see me.”

“Well, I can’t really speak for the others beyond the fact they have families and be working all of the time, but as for Mama… you know how she feels about seeing you locked up,” I tell him, trying to shield him from the truth.

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