Smoke and Mirrors (DE)

3. Favors

Joseph's biceps burned as he completed his twelfth rep of ten push-ups. Working out was his favorite pass time, like a lot of other inmates. That's why a lot of people got so ripped after serving time because there was nothing else to do besides that and reading. Prison wasn't all that bad, it was just mentally draining sitting inside of a 6 by 8 foot cell for twenty-three hours a day. That's why it was important to program— to establish the attitude in which you serve your time with.

Serving time was a mental war, you can't be weak or that place would break you down and eat you alive. Joseph's first week back a man hung himself with bed sheets two cells down and he was due to be released in three more weeks after serving fifteen years, but he couldn't take it anymore. Between the other inmates, the cages they lived in and being treated like animals paired with barely being able to see your family was enough to make any grown man cry.

With his hands in his slides to keep them from touching the dirty cell ground, he lowered himself once more until his muscular chest was only inches from the ground before raising back up. The veins in his hands and arms bulged from his raised blood pressure due to his muscles need for more blood as he worked out.

" Combs, you're going to medical put your shirt on," a C.O. said, appearing in front of Joseph's cell. He held the position he was in before slowly rising to his feet and grabbing his red state shirt off his bunk, throwing it over his head. The prison system used color coded uniforms to segregate offenders and grouped them together on different decks— yellow for low risk offenders, green for non-violent, pink for child molesters or sex offenders and red for the high-risk maximum security inmates. High-risk being the murderers, king pins and those charged with terroristic crimes. Those that didn't fall into any of those such categories wore orange and stayed in general population.

Joseph let the guard shackle his hands to his waist as he followed the C.O. off the deck and to medical. The nurses office looked like that of one you'd find in school when you were a child. He sat on one of the beds allowing the C.O. to remove his shackles and let himself be cuffed by one hand to the railing of the bed.

The nurse waited until he left before turning to Joseph. " What brings you in today?" She asked, locking the door with her French tip manicured fingers.

Joseph licked over his bottom lip with a smug smile on his face as his eyes roamed her curvy body that her black scrubs hugged tightly onto. " My head hurt," He said.

Pulling a key from her desk that she'd swiped from a C.O., she undid his cuff and pushed him back onto the bed. " I can fix that," She said in a sultry tone, pressing her lips against his.

Joseph didn't care for the nurse, nor did he care to fuck her. She was just another pawn in his game of Chess and he knew if he fucked her good he could get what he wanted out of her, this time being a phone. He needed to talk to Dre on a non-recorded phone line. After they finished, Joseph disposed of his condom and pulled his pants back up as the nurse slipped back into her scrubs and twisted her sweated out hair back up into its previous state secured with a black claw clip.

" Let me see your phone,"

" For what?" She asked, still out of breath.

" What you think for? I said let me see it," He demanded.

The nurse cut her eyes at him, taking her iPhone out of her desk drawer and placing it into his large hand. " Give me a minute," He said. She rolled her eyes going into the adjacent bathroom, closing the door and running the water. Joseph dialed Dre's number, waiting for him to pick up.

" Dre," Joseph said, looking at the clock on the wall seeing he only had five more minutes before the guard came back to take him to his cell.

" Yo," Dre said, recognizing his cousins voice.

" His name is Sandoval Thomas. I don't give a fuck what you do, but he can't make it to the trial to testify against me next week,"

Dre grinned a menacing grin letting weed smoke billow from his mouth. " You ain't said nothin but a word,"

Joseph hung up the phone and put it back in the drawer and cuffed himself back to the bed just as the nurse came out of the bathroom. With three minute left she unlocked the medical room door and pretended to busy herself like she was actually doing her job. Joseph observed her, picking up on her quiet demeanor. " What's wrong wit you?" He asked.

" I'm tired of you using me," She said before turning to face him. They'd had this fling going on for years and she'd caught feelings for him but Joseph on the other hand didn't have any feelings to give. His heart was cold now and beat slow. There was only one woman he could ever love, and she was not her. Joseph was using her, but he didn't feel any shame for it. It's a dog eat dog world, you gotta do what you got to do.

" I'm not using you, I need you. You know I'mma take care of you," Joseph said charmingly. " And you already know how I feel about you," He lied, grabbing her hand and holding it in his tattooed one to further more convince her.

Grace exhaled dramatically toying with the end of her ponytail as she waited for the office Keurig to spit out the last of her Dunkin Donuts medium roast coffee. Her eye lids felt heavy as she struggled to keep them open. Grace loved what she did but the only downside was it was a 24/7 job— meaning she was on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. She could be in a deep sleep and if they call she had to come running. It had turned her into an avid coffee drinker, that was the only thing that could help her get through the days where she worked longer than normal— and it seemed the more she drank coffee the stronger she began to like it.

Going into the fridge she poured some hazelnut coffee creamer into it and mixed it with a stirrer, grabbing the hot cup and walking into the break room taking a seat at an empty table. Grace had conducted three interviews today, and was more mentally drained than anything. Being around such dark and menacing energy so often definitely begins to wear on you after time. A few of her other coworkers sat around eating and watching the news. She held the warm cup between both hands letting the heat radiate through her hands and up her arms as she closed her eyes trying to catch a break.

" Joseph Combs, man accused of slaying a whole family set to stand trial in four days,"

Grace perked up at the sound of his name, opening her eyes and looking at the break room TV. Joseph's mugshot flashed across the screen as a few of her coworkers surrounded the TV. It looked to be a more recent shot of him— his hair had grown longer still in the same braids he always kept them in and still handsome as ever with those dark hooded eyes. She felt her stomach begin to churn seeing his mugshot plastered on the screen like that for the most heinous reason. Never would she have imagined things would have ended this way.

Grace hadn't spoken to him in four years nor had she been keeping up with his case. It was just too hard for her to deal with and she felt it was best that way. It hurt her to think about. It hurt to hear the things they said about him because she wanted so desperately for them to not be true. Grace wished this was all just a bad dream— that she'd wake up in his arms again. It hurt to know that she'd probably never see him again, but even if a miracle happened and he did come home things would never be the same. She could never look at him the same again.

" This ought to be good," One of her coworkers snickered. " He's a psychopath, look at him,"

Grace chewed her lip nervously watching the news anchors talk about the case.

" He shot a kid execution style and set an old woman on fire," Someone else said. " I read the file,"

Grace furrowed her brows listening to the comments her coworkers made. " That's what he's being accused of, it doesn't mean he actually did it," Grace said defensively, making everyone turn and look at her with a strange look.

" He did do it, they found his DNA at the crime scene," One of the detectives said. " They're going to bury him, watch,"

Grace clenched her jaw feeling her brown eyes begin to get watery. Though it had been four years the love she felt for him never changed or went away, and that's why it was so hard for her. He was the love of her life, he always will be no matter how angry or hurt she felt. Grace quietly grabbed her coffee and walked out. She couldn't hear anymore.