All For Love (Urban Fiction) Part 5

Chapter 33 Dandria

Marcus

I rested my back against the metal jail bed, arms crossed behind my head as I stared at the bottom of the top bunk in disbelief that I found myself in this position. I mean, a nigga had done some grimy shit in this lifetime, but I was working on an exit plan. I was practically a family man living the American fuckin' dream. I retired my family, I was married, I had children who actually looked up to me, they never had to face any of the storms I did comin' up... but now I stuck in a fuckin' shoebox compared to my own home. The walls were grimy, with peelin' paint and graffiti scratched into them. The smell of stale sweat and despair hung heavy in the air. The jumpsuit they gave me was scratchy and damn near a size too small, making me feel even more confined. And don't even get me started on my cell mate. Nigga was this rough-looking motha-fucka with a permanent scowl on his face. His hair was twisted wildly covering his specked beard that barely connected. We barely exchanged a word, but his presence added to the tension in the air. I knew that I had to keep my guard up at all times.

-

Each time I would close my eyes it would seem like a scene straight out of a nightmare, and all I could think about was getting out of here and back to my family, but this shit was realer than I ever could have imagined. In that moment, I couldn't help but feel frustrated. Chantel wasn't answering her phone, and I hadn't heard from anyone on the outside, shit was quiet. The weight of missing my kids hit me hard, I felt like I let them down more than anything. It was like being trapped in a never-ending cycle of uncertainty. I just wanted to be there for my family, to hold them close and let them know everything would be alright.

I stood in line, waiting to use the phone as the inmate before me slammed it down in anger and stormed away. I scoffed at how emotional some of these niggas could reveal themselves to be. Even with the weight of the world on my shoulders, I had to maintain my composure. Niggas was always waiting for you to crack, to slip in the very minute you felt vulnerable cross you out. I had enemies behind these walls, some from way back, some who ran with niggas I took out in the past, I knew it wouldn't be long until some shit went down.

-

A light sigh exited my lips as I received Chantel's voicemail again, after calling a week straight. It was rough, not being able to hear her voice at one of the lowest points of my life. I kept thinking about the reason she wasn't picking up, and I could only fault myself for fuckin' up the way I did. The uncertainty between each ring left me feeling sicker while calling a second time, no answer. I didn't know how she was taking all of this, and if she was willing to wait it out with me. If she didn't I wouldn't blame her. I just wanted to know that she was okay and that she still cared. It was like a knot in my stomach that wouldn't go away. I just hoped she realized how much I needed her right now.

I made a brief call to a few distant relatives to make sure they were still okay and to see if they needed anything. I had managed to put away enough just incase a situation like this were to ever happen, so that everyone would be okay. Trust Funds were put away, offshore accounts, properties and real estate's not linked to my name, everyone would be straight.

The automated system, interrupted our conversation before I asked my aunt to stop by and visit Chantel to make sure she was holding up. She agreed and told me she'd be expecting a call from me this week and she'll have that update. As I returned the phone to the receiver, I was greeted by six men, all surrounding me with menacing scowls. I quickly adjusted my stance, eyes darting between who I would have to strike first, before one called to me.

"Marcus Campbell right? ....Easy, if we wanted to fuck you up, you'd already be leaking and on your way to emergency."

"I ain't got shit for you." I shot back, still looking over each person. I kept a handcrafted blade tucked near, and was expecting to use it at any point. I was tense as my fist clenched, waiting on a response as he spoke slowly.