Lessons || MJ

Lessons || Chapter 2

Author's Note: Feedback is appreciated.

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LESLIE

The Kid and I sat chair to chair at a long silver table in that room. One flickering lightbulb nearly swung and broke from its chain above our heads. This chunky bear of a white policeman lifted his hand to slap me across the face. It'd been too late when The Kid rose from his char, enraged beyond words.

On the other hand, I passed a loogie for that ignorant cop. Anger continued spewing from the man beside me. "Touch her again and I'll be your worst nightmare!"

The white policeman slammed his chubby fist against the table. Most would believe that a female would yelp, but I just hawked up even more spit for the bastard. Now if only he'd say one more stupid thing.

"Shut up, Nelson! Do you even remember the fugitive status of your name? We have you painted all over the country, midget. Either tell me what I want to know or you'll spend time in prison. Again! Now, what's this pretty thang like her doing with a slime ball like you?"

Pretty thang? I wished to gag. Southern drawl oozed from this cop like molasses. While losing my marbles, I sat up even more in this chair. He wouldn't get to me.

"I'm not talking. Arrest me. Keep her alive." The Kid demanded.

"Well then, if you're not talking I'll probe your accomplice." This man had the nerve to stare at me, moving too close. I prepped my loogie again. "By way of this file, you've enrolled into one affluent university, but how old are you? Truly?"

My eyes narrowed. "That doesn't mean anything. People of all ages go to college." A dead silence had fallen between the three of us before the policeman erupted once more. I refused to squeal again as he rose from the seat with fuming conviction.

I didn't know what to think anymore, but again, I'd never weaken. There was too at stake within my family on edge. The college façade had been my solace and the works of a slight witness protection program provision. Until this rocky week began, I'd been safe.

Finding The Kid again just sent me right back into the hot seat.

"How old are you?" the cop probed once more.

Even when The Kid rubbed my shoulder, I'd already decided to comply. Almost every day this week, I found myself in his air. It'd been only today that law enforcement put pieces together and slammed us over here. Again.

"Thirty-two." I admitted. The Kid look my way again.

"Are you his prostitute or something, Leslie?" The cop shook his head. "You're dark enough for that career, anyway."

Was he serious? I prayed to God that The Kid never packed heat on the way over. Threatening with bullets would only dampen his case.

Yet the expression on his otherwise lovely face signaled hurt for me, not fury as seen before. As if we were now the only people in this room, he caressed my face until our foreheads bump. He placed a kiss for the top of my head.

"She's not a prostitute, cracker!" The defended me without standing from his rickety chair again. "You have no idea what's she's been through."

"Outstanding high school GPA. College degree in Foreign language. Stable family home." The policeman skimmed through again and shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Nelson."

"Ever heard of Calvin Smith?" My eyes popped as soon as The Kid mentioned that name. We agreed to never say it again. I didn't know what to even think right now let alone express.

"The assassin?" The officer finally sat down and folded his hands. I lowered my head.

"No. He used to be a plumber." The Kid noted with sarcasm in his deep voice. Of course, that policeman straightened up by now.

I never looked up at him again. "You and others already found the murderer, but he killed my father." The Kid rubbed my back.

"How do you know for sure Calvin is the man?" the policeman questioned, failing to be truly sympathetic. I looked to face the Kid again and he lifted my chin.

"Because he pulled out a gun in the middle of our family cookout and shot him in the back of his head!" I screamed through tears. "He's out in the world somewhere looking for me."

"Why is he looking for you, though?" the policeman asked, honestly caring for once.

"He still wants to marry me and took anger out on the family because I said no. You do remember that Calvin was a junkie as well, right?" I kept my eyes low once more.

"Yes, but when did he spiral out of control with you?" the policeman pushed more questions.

"After my real college graduation." I whispered and barely sniffled to be honest.

"Don't say anything else, mama." The Kid linked hands with me under this stupid table.

"All your warmth toward her doesn't excuse your crimes, Nelson!" the policeman barked. Back to square one. Now I'll ask again: What is she doing with you?"

"I want my attorney." Nelson replied. His voice trailed off the at the sound of an opening door. I looked over to find Yvonne standing right in front of us. She clutched a briefcase with her sweaty palm.

Thank God. I thought to myself.