Page 15 of Royce
“What you want me to do ‘bout shawty? Once I get her information and shit.”
“Start making sure she straight. I overheard her saying she was behind on bills and shit. Pay them muthafuckas and put her some bread in her mailbox. Start buying shit for the baby, too. If she got any more kids, make sure they good, too. I’ll be out this bitch soon and take over from there,” I ordered.
“You got it. I’ll see you when you touchdown, my boy.”
I stood and we dapped up before I walked out the room. The CO escorted me back to my cell and I was feeling relieved. All that stress I harbored for the past three months was leaving at a steady pace. Shit, I lowkey cracked a smile knowing this shit was finally coming to an end.
Once I sat down and got comfortable, my peace was interrupted for the umpteenth time of the day. I was already annoyed with muthafuckas thinking they could just walk up to me and hold conversation. If I was on the street, them niggas would’ve got shutdown within a hunnid feet. My bodyguards ain’t play that. Now, this fuck nigga was in my face wearing a dumbass smile as if he was who the fuck I wanted to see right now.
I looked at him and he still wore that dumbass smile. I cocked my head to the side showing my irritancy with his presence. All I wanted him to do was get the fuck out my face but taking hints wasn’t his strong suit.
“My bad, Royce, but uhm, can I step in?”
Inhaling deeply, I leaned forward and nodded. He came in giddy like a fuckin’ schoolgirl.Ponk ass. He stood there as if I was going to be the first one to speak first. He came in this bitch bothering me, not the other way around.
“Speak bitch!” I shouted.
He jumped back a lil’ then tried to save face by fixing his clothes. “I get out in like a year or whatever, and I was seeing if you can put a nigga on. I was selling my lil’ shit here and there, but I’m trying to get on for real. I got three kids I need to take care of.”
I was the one and only Royce Atkins. I was sure when my name circulated throughout this building muthafuckas were thinking of ways to approach me. If you had an ear to the streets for real, you knew my malls were nothing but a cover up. If he sold anything in the city, he bought it off one of my low levels. Didn’t nobody else have room to sell shit in this muthafucka. I didn’t grant it, so it wasn’t being done.
Plus, I knew this nigga was lying about his time. I already had information on every nigga in here. The third shift supervisor of the guards was an ex-girlfriend of my uncle, Ryan. Castina was still family in my eyes. She was with him until I was like eighteen before she left him. My father still invited her to cookouts just to fuck with my uncle. He wanted her back so bad it wasn’t even funny. She never took the bait letting him know she would never give him the chance to play her again. She meant that shit, too. She wasn’t Mercedees’s biological mother but she took on that role and was there whenever she needed her.
Anyway, this nigga had two years left, not one. The fact that he was bold enough to walk his dumbass in here was comical. I didn’t touch anything with my name on it other than my fuckin’ money. My shipments were handled by Striker and his team. All I did was come in to make sure the inventory was right.Regardless of what the DA said, I was more careful than he wanted to believe.
“What’s yo’ name?” I knew his name already. I just wanted him to announce himself.
“Shit, they call me Cojak.”
“Cojak? What kind of fuck boy name is that? You couldn’t come up with something better,” I taunted.
“It’s a play on my government name. The bitches like it, so I ain’t tripping.”
“Them hoes must be desperate as fuck,” I said shaking my head. I could see the embarrassment creep onto his face. I chuckled knowing I was getting under his skin.
“Can I get put on or not?” he asked slapping his fist into the palm of his hand.
I looked up eyeing him with a blank expression. I wasn’t going back and forth about shit. He would never work for me. He was too careless and the way he played in muthafucka’s faces didn’t sit right with me. He wasn’t a man about shit he did and that wasn’t the type of niggas I wanted around me or touching my product. I knew for a fact he was singing like a canary if he got hemmed up. Hell no.
I cracked a smile and said, “Shit, I was gon’ ask you to put me on. That’s crazy.”
“Huh? What you mean?” he asked wearing a confused expression.
“Yo’ baby mama. She bad as fuck.”
“My baby mama? Who Tinasia?” he said pointing out the door. I assumed he was speaking on the one that sat her dumbass there while baby girl flipped the fuck out.
“Nigga, I said the bad one, not the one who look like she works on cars for a living. What’s her name? I got to make sure I tell her how pretty she is next time I see her.”
The taunting was the most fun I’ve had since I been in here. He made it so easy to enjoy. His facial expression was no longer a happy one. He looked like he wanted to hit me and that was exactly what I wanted him to do.
“Aye, Royce, I ain’t come in here for all that. Is you gon’ put me on or not?” he said taking a step forward.
“That’s what the fuck I want to know, too. I’m still waiting on you to tell me her name.”
“You ain’t got to worry ‘bout Klarity. Just know she ain’t jumping ship. She knows who the fuck she belongs to. That’s my baby inside her stomach nigga. She been stamped.”
He was still poking his chest out like I wouldn’t cave that bitch in. As much as he disrespected her and treated her like she ain’t matter, I knew he wasn’t getting upset ‘bout me showing a lil’ interest. This muthafucka just had another bitch at his table but was being selfish with baby girl.
