Page 136 of Quasim III: King Inferno

“oi, bebê,” She looked past Cherish, which confused her, and she turned to face me at the same time mama slid me her sharpest knife.

Snatching the knife, I grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her head back, staring into her eyes. “não meus meninos.”

She shrieked, as I slid the knife across her neck easily as slicing up butter for my pancakes. The blood beautifully slid down her neck onto the blade as the life slowly left her eyes, and I held her hair in my hands.

“Told you it’s like riding a bike,” Mama winked. “Call Papa and tell him that we need to make reservations for their welcome home dinner.”

She continued to chop the chunks of yuca as I dropped her onto the floor, and went to grab my phone to call my husband.

“Oh, and muffin?” She loved muffins more than anything, it was her most favorite food, and she had called me that since a child.

“Yes, mama?”

“From the back of the ear to the other ear… bleeds out faster.” She winked.

I nodded. “Yes, mama.”

Mercer

“What the fuckdo you mean they’re moving me to another unit? Why can’t I stay here?” I asked while they waited for me to pack up my little bit of belongings.

“Get your shit packed, Mercer. You don’t ask questions around here… just take demands.” One of the correction officers replied.

It had been months since I’d been in here and it was starting to look bleak. Like I would never get out of here and would take these charges they were accusing me of. Being arrested at the gala was embarrassing.

Being taken into custody like I was a common criminal. They could have called my office and asked for me to come into the precinct to speak. They made a mockery of me, and I hated it. My face was plastered everywhere for my kids and wife to see.

I had our family and friends reaching out to Sam, wanting to know if this was true. When my bail was denied, I could have died in that courtroom. That Black ass bitch of a judge sat up there and judged me before even knowing the case.

She tried her best to hide it, but she was disgusted with me, and I was working with my lawyers to get a new judge for the trial. We had been preparing for weeks on our defense. Thatfucking junkie Thea had reemerged after being missing for some time.

Thea was the biggest problem in our case. She knew too much and probably had too much evidence against me. The things she witnessed and allowed would send me to prison for the rest of my damn life.

That bitch allowed what went on and never complained. As long as she was high, she took Lucia’s call and arranged for me to see Elijah. I was only trying to help the boy and toughen him up. Either way, that bitch needed to die so they could release me.

Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? No sooner than bail was denied, I was fired and now referred to as “disgraced former surgeon general.”

Sam was struggling with believing me and what the people were telling her. She was asking more questions, putting together pieces that now made sense to her, and looking at me differently. My lawyers said they needed her pale ass front and center being supportive, so the jury would believe I had a happy marriage and life with a soon to be grandchild on the way, and would never do what I was being accused of.

It had been a week since Sam had been up here and every time I called, she said she needed time to think. What the fuck did she need to think about?

She wasn’t the one in here wearing a damn prison uniform and eating blended up food baked in one sheet cake that they called nutrition. I was the one that was suffering, not her. Why the fuck did she need to clear her mind?

Walking to another unit felt depressing. No sun or any look at the outside world. Just electronic doors housing dangerous criminals and a bunch of security clearances. I held my things in my arms like I did when I was an eagle scout as a child in summer camp.

Ready for a summer of fun with my best friends. Funny how I would give anything to go back to that. They stopped at my cell, and I noticed I had a cellmate and sighed. It was nice having my own space while it lasted.

He was on the top bump with blankets draped over him like a hood. From prison movies, I learned that you didn’t speak to anyone. Just kept your head down and did your time. I was hoping the judge would look into the motion we filed for me to be out on house arrest during the trial. I couldn’t sit in here another second, and they were estimating that the trial could take six months.

I stood there while the doors buzzed and then walked in. The doors wasted no time in closing, and the guards didn’t wait around. The shifts were changing, and they were worried about getting to their post so they could be relieved of their shift.

Like hell I wished I was a fly on their shirt, escaping this place. I wanted to scream until they let me out, but I knew that would never happen.

“Guess we should agree on a morning toilet schedule.” I spoke, and he never responded, but shifted his body some. “I have to take a morning shit… has to happen and I apologize ahead of time.”

He continued to remain quiet while I unpacked the books I had Sam bring me, and all of the pictures of my family. My team wanted to take pictures of my cell to remind the jury that I was a father, husband, and soon to be grandfather. I was still trying to debate on if I wanted to smile or not.

Smiling screamed guilty and then looking depressed showed I wasn’t happy here. I had a few days to decide on it before my interview. I sat on the bed and took a deep sigh before taking my slides off and making my bed up.

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