Crossroads

Ch. 25: Conjugal Visit

India

After showering, I quickly lotioned my half naked body. I couldn't wait to go see my baby. It had only been a couple days without him but it felt like years.

I slid a peach colored, knee length, bodycon dress over my curly hair and pulled it neatly down my body. I put on my all white low cut converse and tied a grey flannel shirt around my waist. I added just a tad bit of lip gloss to my lips and pulled a long gold necklace over my head to fall around my neck.

I hoped he wasn't having a rough time in there. But then again, who enjoyed being in jail?

I grabbed my phone and wallet and rushed to my parents' room. As I lifted my hand to bang on the double doors, it flew open and John jumped back, frightened by me standing there.

"Damnit India. I'm ready. You don't have to keep harassing me. I know how badly you want to see that boy."

I took his hand and dragged him down the stairs and through the doors. This time instead of riding with the chauffeur we jumped in his black range.

After a couple minutes on the road, I was surprised for us to be pulling up at the police station. I gave him a confused look. I clearly didn't know how the system worked.

"He's not in prison, he's in jail. He has to be held here while everything is being situated."

I always though prison and jail were the same thing. I nodded and got out of the truck. I walked along John's side like a little kid who was shy and was meeting someone for the first time. I didn't like stations nor prisons. Especially for the mistreatment they enforced on our black men. It was unfair to them and the people who loved them.

No, I was not saying that what Khalil did was right. He was so wrong and I constantly told him that over and over. But I guess he needed to learn for himself. And honestly, I didn't know how much longer I was going to be able to tread on thin ice with him. The thought of losing him to gun violence made me sick to my stomach.

"John Smith and India Westbrook," John told the officer at the front desk.

"Here are your visitors passes." He handed them to us.

We followed behind an officer who led us to a door where inside was a single table and some chairs. I took a seat quietly and folded my hands on the table. John sighed and took a seat beside me. I nervously pursed my lips into a thin line.

I heard the door click again and looked up to see Khalil in the same clothes he was arrested in.

"Khay." I breathed out and stood to approach him. The male officer supervising lifted a hand to me indicating for me to not come closer and he motioned for me to sit down. I sat my ass back down. These people intimidated me.

He sat across from us and kept his head down, avoiding eye contact. I examined the bruises on his face. One side of his face was covered in dried blood.

"How you doing, Khalil?" John asked as his eyes also browsed Khalil's face.

He shrugged and mumbled an alright.

"Khay," I said softly, wanting his attention.

He lifted his head to look at me. He looked tired and well beaten up.