Loving Khyree (That Zaddy Collection Book #1)

1

Five years later... (Khyree 18)

Adrianna

"Hi honey, you okay in here?" I sat on the opposite side of the glass, he'd grown in the last years. He kept his hair short and grown a light beard, he filled out into a slightly muscular physique and gotten taller. At just 18, he looked like a fully grown man.

"Yeah." It was always a yeah with him.

They had just transferred him here to Balcom state Penitentiary last month and just as I did in the juvenile detention center, I visited him twice a week here too. It was a little farther from Boston, about an hour. But my drive to get him a lesser sentence grew. I had people looking into his mom and people who might know something about him. So far, all I got was that his mom was busy enjoying her life with a well known dope boy. Khyree still didn't talk about his past or what happened that night I came to his house.

"Nobody is giving you any trouble?" His eyes moved up to me, he shook his head no, the phone held loosely to his ear.

Even though he started talking to me a couple years ago, it was usually just short answers. Barely giving me a full sentence. My son, Brayton asks me why am I wasting my time coming all the way over here? I truly worry about Khyree, a young scared child who got himself in a horrible situation. If it was any other child who committed this act with purpose, I wouldn't dare even try to do what I'm doing for Khyree. Something about Khyree, screams of some form of innocence to me. Call me crazy, but it was and still is written in his eyes.

It was as if he was to the point of not caring what happened to him. So hurt by how Carly ignored him through this whole process and put all the blame on her son. I remembered watching her on the stand, but every word that came out her mouth, was just digging a bigger hole for Khyree. I saw the hurt build up in his eyes as he watched his mother, paint him to be this angry child, who was just ready to explode. But I didn't see that in Khyree, the boy just wanted his mothers attention and it seemed as if he was lacking it for such a long time. Even before the incident.

Something about his spirit called to me, begging for help. He scratched his low cut hair, looking around at the other inmates swiftly. He was always looking around, shifty as if he was nervous something was going to happen in here. It already has in the detention center, I placed myself as a source of contact for him. I've gotten the calls about him and the other boys he fought being placed in solitary. When I ask him about it on visitation, he simply gives his usual shrugs. The guards I've become friends with, tells me that the other kids likes to give Khyree a hard time. He tries to ignore them, but then fights back when he's been pushed too far.

"I put some money on your books. So make sure you get what you need." I reminded him, he felt like a son to me. I felt the urge to make sure he was taken care of while he spent the next 20 years in here. I wanted him to know that there was someone who cared.

"Okay." His voice was getting deeper and smooth. I noticed Sean standing guard watching over the visitations, along with the other prison guards.

I caught his eyes and he gave me a slight nod. Letting me know that Khyree was ok. Sean was a friend of my son from college and I was glad to hear that he was working here at Balcom. I begged Brayton to let me speak to Sean. I begged Sean to keep an eye on Khyree from time to time, a tender 18 year old coming to a prison filled with actual serial killers and such.

"Did you get my birthday package? I know you were in transition. So I forgot to ask and I hope it didn't get lost." I gave him extra money on his books to buy extra paper and pencils, I had found out from a guard in the detention center, that Khyree liked to draw. Often sitting in the corner of his room, just drawing.