Page 22 of Royce
“Mr. Atkins, this court acknowledges that you’ve spent the last three months behind bars awaiting a trial that should’ve never advanced this far. I offer the court’s apology for the time wasted. With that said, in the interest of justice, all charges against you are hereby dismissed with prejudice. You are free to go.” The gavel hit the block, and just like that, a nigga was out this bitch.
The courtroom erupted with praise from my side as Troy and Reynolds shared a look of failure. Yonnis said wait this shit out and at first, I refused but hey, she saw the prejudice shit them fuck boys be on and it worked in my favor. I hope they knew to count they muthafuckin’ days though. I was fa sho’ coming for them and wasn’t gon’ stop until they were eight feet under. I did three months to satisfy they appetite for me. That shit wasn’t sliding in no shape or form.
Turning around, my mother was the first one to wrap her arms around me. I knew she was relieved to finally have me back. She only had one child to care for. Couldn’t nobody fill that void but me.
“Thank you, Jesus,” was on a loop as she rocked me back and forth.
“I’m sorry I put you through this but if you want me home for real, you got to let go, Ma, so I can head back and get processed out.”
“I’m just happy she released you that’s all,” she added.
“That makes two of us.” Finally, I was freed from her embrace and able to breathe.
“Go ‘head, son. We’ll meet you at the house. Striker, you bringing him to the house or Heidi?” my father inquired.
“You know I ain’t leaving my dawg. We’ll be there in a few hours. Cook something up, Ma. You know he need that ASAP,” Striker joked.
“You don’t have to tell me. Bring him straight home, Emanuel.” She called him by his government which meant she wasn’t fuckin’ around with his ass.
“Yes ma’am,” he said smiling.
I shook my head and watched my folk file out the courtroom. Yonnis stood back and allowed me to have that moment with them. He showed nothing but respect to my family even though he was damn near part of it. Once it was just me, him, and Striker, he said his peace.
“This ain’t over just yet, Royce. Them niggas gon’ be watching yo’ every move now. Find you a woman and settle the fuck down. You ain’t got long. Let them niggas live in frustration for a while. You don’t need no heat coming your way. The judge gon’ feel like a fool and you don’t want that,” he advised.
“I already got shit in motion to do so. I ain’t gon’ let yo’ hard work go to waste, trust me. Oh, and damn good job nigga. You really handled shit,” I praised.
“You know if I don’t cut a fool nowhere else, I’m gon’ do it in a courtroom. Y’all boys be safe. I got to run,” he said grabbing his briefcase off the table.
“My mama is expecting you for dinner, Yonnis,” I voiced.
“She always is and I’m always there. I got some runs to make first though. I’ll be through later,” he said motioning for the CO to escort me back. “Go get processed out and call me if they give you bullshit.”
“Will do.” We dapped up and he was out. I looked at Striker and said, “Meet me at the gate nigga.”
“That’s a bet.”
We went in our separate directions with the guard looking pissed the fuck off. I guess he really wanted a nigga convicted. I couldn’t think of any other reason why he was so goddamn red and mumbling under his breath like I did something to him. I smirked and finished walking the way feeling satisfied. Whether he liked that shit or not, I was out this bitch.
I was back in my cell minutes later grabbing up my lil’ shit. It wasn’t nothing other than my Bible and the many letters Heidi wrote me. Other than that, I didn’t want shit in here. All the canteen shit I accumulated they could fight over ‘cause I wasn’t taking none of it. The things I cherished were on the other side of these concrete walls.
It seemed like an eternity passed when it was only an hour and a half that had gone by. I was so ready to step out and show my ass for the one time. It was some shit I had to settle and a few minds I had to put at ease.
“Atkins let’s go!” the officer yelled.
Standing, I walked out with Cojak’s dumbass being the first one to stop me. “Aye Royce, about what we talked about… you think you can still hook me up?”
“If you don’t get the fuck out my face, I know something,” I voiced without giving him eye contact.
This nigga was a fuckin’ idiot. Why the fuck would he question me about this shit in front of this cracker ass officer? I see why he locked the fuck up. He ain’t know when to shutthe fuck up. I kept walking and Cojak’s punk ass kept yelling my name. I didn’t see how he bagged baby girl.
I went through several doors, changed into the clothes I was picked up in, and was walking out the door. That air smelled different on this side of the fence. Hell, the sun bouncing off a nigga skin hit different, too. I was just a happy muthafucka once again.
Striker was in front of the gate in an all-black Panamera. I smiled broadly before it was replaced with an expression of irritation. Detective Troy just couldn’t leave well enough alone.
“Don’t think this is over, Royce. You got lucky this time, but I promise it won’t happen again,” he threatened.
“Seems like the check cleared right on time, huh? I guess money can buy happiness and freedom,” I taunted.
