𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙱𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚘 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙳𝚘𝚗🇯🇲

076

KINGSTON  POLICE HEADQUARTERS | KINGSTON JAMAICA

The holding cell at the station was damp, dim, and smelled like concrete and sweat. I sat on the cold bench, hands cuffed in front of me, the tight metal biting into my skin. The room was quiet, except for the faint buzz of the fluorescent light overhead and the occasional stomp of boots from officers passing in the hallway.

The door opened slowly.

Two officers stepped in, their eyes full of spite and mock satisfaction. One leaned back against the wall, arms folded across his chest. The other stood close, too close, with a smirk on his face like he'd been waiting for this day his whole life.

"So dis a weh yuh reach now, Fada Whyte?" the tall one said. "Mi hear 'bout yuh fi years, but look pon yuh now. Lock up like regular man."

The second one scoffed and rubbed his jaw.

"Yuh know seh mi always wonder how long it woulda tek. Big Don from Waterfront, always clean. But see it deh now, yuh slip."

I didn't answer. No reaction. I sat still, head bowed, fists clenched, heart drumming inside my chest.

"Yuh quiet now?" the first one asked, stepping closer. "Yuh nuh have nuttin fi say? Yuh nuh bad again?"

Still, I gave them nothing.

The second officer walked to the table, picked up the file, and flicked through it like he cared.

"Yuh tink say yuh untouchable? All who stand tall drop same way. Yuh know wah mi hear? Humpty Dumpty... yuh know how di rest go."

They laughed like devils.

Then without warning, I felt the sharp zap of the taser against my ribs. My whole body jolted, teeth clenched, but I stayed upright. No scream. No cry.

"Yuh nuh so bad now, do?" one of them hissed. "Yuh power stop a di gate. Nah help yuh now."

"Watch yuh back," the other one added with a grin. "We a go mek sure yuh spend long enough fi remember dis day."

They left, slamming the door shut behind them. The silence returned, but it wasn't the same. My body trembled—not from fear, but fury.

My fists balled tight.

I stood up slowly, stepped toward the wall, and slammed my knuckles against it. The sting was immediate, sharp. Blood rose to the surface, but I didn't stop. Again. Then again.

By the third punch, blood had smeared across the concrete.

I leaned back against the wall, chest rising fast, head low.

"Mi ago find out who do dis to mi," I whispered to the stillness. "An dem nah go get fi smile long."

A long silence followed, until the distant clink of keys reminded me I was still in a cell. But my mind... my mind was already outside. Already hunting.

****************
WHYTE & CO ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW

As I stepped out of the car with Aunty Suzan, holding one of the twins while she held the other, I took a deep breath. The building in front of us stood tall and firm — sleek, dark glass stretching into the sky, with bold gold lettering at the top: Whyte & Co. Attorneys-at-Law. It was the kind of place that felt cold, like everything in there had a price tag. Like justice wasn't given, but bought.

Inside was just as stiff marble tiles, polished walls, and an eerie silence that followed you like shadow. The receptionist buzzed us through without saying much. Maybe she already knew who we were.

When we stepped into Ricardo's office, he was already at his desk, tie loosened, glasses on, reading through a thick case file. He looked up, giving a small nod.

"Come een," he said.

We sat down, the twins resting quietly in our arms. He didn't dote on them much this time just a brief glance and a "Dem good?" before going straight to business.

He slid a folder across the table. "Mi organize everything fi court tomorrow. Weapon, car report, witness statements all line up too neat. A clear setup. But based pon di talk from Waterfront, mi have mi angle."

Aunty Suzan adjusted in her seat. "Yuh a go use Killa, right?"

Ricardo nodded. "Yeah. From everything weh Zuri tell mi at di dinner, plus mi own look into it — di man too reckless. Him a extort vendors, stab man publicly, and him known fi drive Chris vehicle."

I rested Christian gently in the baby carrier beside me. "So how we a go use dat?"

Ricardo leaned forward, voice calm but serious. "Mi a frame di argument pon breach of trust. Mi wi show di court seh Chris gi him trust and access, but Killa use dat fi move underhand. Mi even request di officer dem fi release digital logs and time stamps fi when di car move out. And camera from one business close to di scene. Mi just need two tings fi line up properly."

"Which two?" I asked.

"Time stamp fi confirm Killa near di car... and one vendor statement fi back up di rumor dem bout him threats."

"Mi can get di vendor," I said. "Mi know who fi ask."

"Good." Ricardo gave a quick nod. "That plus di eyewitness statement weh shaky it enough fi start raise doubt."

Aunty Suzan exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Mi cya believe we reach ya."

"Mi wi handle tomorrow," Ricardo assured her. "Just keep Chris calm. If dem ask him anything before court, tell him fi seh nothing. Let me talk."

He looked between the two of us. "But remember... dis nuh mean we safe yet. It just mean we step ahead."

Something in his tone made my stomach twist. He was sharp. Calculated. And while I wanted to believe he had Chris's best interest at heart, there was a part of me that kept my guard up. Just in case.

Still, I nodded. "We wi do we part."

He closed the file. "Then mek wi pray seh court side with we tomorrow."

Aunty Suzan cleared her throat. "Mi just want Chris free. Dis whole ting have mi stomach in knots."

Ricardo nodded without looking at her. "Tomorrow important. Mi wi push doubt, use Killa's background against him. But mi need that one last piece fi seal it."

He leaned back in his chair, watching me a second too long before glancing at the twins. "Yuh sure yuh tell mi everything yuh hear down a Waterfront?"

I gave him a steady look. "Everything important."

He didn't push. Just smiled. "Good. Cause too much missing pieces in dis case already. Mi just need fi know mi nuh walking in blind."

I nodded, though something inside me stayed uneasy. He was saying all the right things — but something felt... calculated. Like he already playing a bigger game than any of us could see.

Still, I stood. "We wi be ready fi court."

He stood too, buttoning his jacket. "Then mek wi hope di judge open dem eye."