Chapter One
Inhale.
Exhale.
It was days like this that Kross had to mentally coach himself to choose peace instead of violence. He was never blessed with patience, yet God always managed to put him in situations where he needed it the most. Pinned against the wall, he allowed his piercing oak brown eyes to trail down to the tight grip Officer Titus had on the collar of his prison blues. It was evident that Titus was trying to poke at him to see if he could get him to blow. After being locked up for seven years, he realized the officers in FDC Miami made it a point to study the inmates housed in their assigned cell blocks. Kross and Titus were no strangers to each other. Quite frankly, he had seen more of Titus than his own family in the past seven years. With time came knowledge, and Titus was well versed on who Kross was and who he could become if he was pushed to the point of no return.
“You get released tomorrow, boy!” Titus spewed, not caring that his saliva slipped through the wide gap that parted his two front teeth, landing directly onto Kross’ face.
Kross’ jaws clenched as he felt Titus’ spit seep into the pores of his umber skin. He could smell the nicotine that crowdedTitus’ breath. He was a heavy chain smoker who had a shitty diet, so there was no doubt in his mind that the next morning he was going to wake up with a bump in the exact spot where Titus’ spit landed.
Instead of throating out anything in response to Titus’ fat ass, Kross averted his gaze to the right, where his belongings were getting tossed around the small cell carelessly. With his release coming up, he had been warned by multiple old heads to prepare himself for the last-minute shakedown that would come when he least expected it. They were itching to find anything that would allow them to keep him locked in that cell for another couple of years. Kross wasn’t about to let shit stand in the way of his freedom, so he kept his cell free of anything that could get him caught up.
“Man, chill! Those pictures are of my son! You ain’t gotta tear them up like that!” His baritone voice throated out of him, striking the ears of the officers like a roll of thunder.
He watched as Officer Lewis’ icy blue eyes seeped into him with a smug smirk etching his face before he reached up and carelessly tore the rest of the taped photos off the wall. Lewis’ careless act earned a fit of laughter from Titus.
“You’ll see him in the outside world, boy. You don’t need them pictures anyway,” Lewis retorted as he tore the last photo off the wall.
Kross’ nose flared as he watched the photo of baby Aniyis fall to the filthy floor before Lewis stepped on it to exit the cell. Anger and frustration pumped through his blood as he clenched his fist. Had it been any other day, Kross would have taken his chances, crushed Titus’ nose with his fist, and landed a few weeks in solitary confinement. The only thing that prevented him from doing so was the thought of being home with his lady and son. Cassie and Aniyis kept him going, and there wasn’tanything in this world a bitch-ass correctional officer could do to keep him from returning home to them.
“You find what you were looking for?” he spat at Lewis as Titus relinquished his grip from his collar.
A hearty chuckle streamed from both officers as Lewis looked at the mess he created in Kross’ usually tidy cell. Despite finding nothing, knowing that he got the chance to fuck up Kross’ day one last time was enough to make him feel accomplished.
“All clear, inmate.”
Taking in a deep breath, Kross nodded before returning to his cell. Once inside, per procedure, he kept his back turned to Titus and Lewis as they made the call to the switchboard operator to lock up the cell. The sound of the lock chiming prompted him to unclench his fist.This the last time these motherfuckas think they have power over you, Kross, he preached to himself.
Being locked up for seven years taught him how to pick his battles. Out on the streets, disrespect wasn’t tolerated. He was quick to beat down or up his pole on any nigga who came at him sideways. He wasn’t to be fucked with, and that reputation followed him all the way to prison.
When he got locked up, talk about who he was and how he operated spread through the units like wildfire. The thought of being the officer or inmate to break him down stroked everyone’s egos whenever he crossed paths with them. For a minute, Kross showed them why he carried such a lethal and violent reputation. Once he got sentenced, his life felt like it came to a screeching halt, so he carried himself like he had nothing to lose. He was an absolute fucking menace the first few months of his sentence. That was until his lady told him she was pregnant with his son. From that day forward, Cassie and Aniyis became his purpose. He needed to make it out for them.
Crouching down, he collected the photos off the floor. Kross appreciated order in his life, so he liked to keep shit organized and maintained. Most of the pictures were about six to seven years old, and despite being taped up on walls that were crowded with mildew and moving from cell to cell, they were still in good condition. This last shakedown, though, ruined some of them. A heavy sigh aired out of him as he shuffled through the photos and stopped at the one of Cassie at their gender reveal. Lewis ripped it in half while he was snatching it off the wall.
Carefully, he peeled some of the tape off the sides of the photo and used it to mend the tear. It restored it for the most part, allowing him to gaze at Cassie’s beauty. Her smile was so contagious that often times, he would smile just looking at the picture when he really didn’t have shit to be smiling about in his cell. She possessed a timeless beauty that never really went out of style. During their last night together before he got locked up, he took his time to kiss and savor the richness of her terra cotta skin. Her smooth complexion was complimented by her oak brown hair that she kept blown out in layers that cascaded gracefully down to the small of her back. She wasn’t big on makeup unless it was a special occasion, so the most she would do was wear lip gloss and lashes, and it really was all she needed. Kross appreciated her because she was modest. She left something for him to imagine and chase after. She was a beauty, and he was grateful that she saw past his current circumstances and had hope for his future.
After only knowing her for six months prior to getting locked up, he would have never expected her to devote seven years of her life to him while he served his time. She was as loyal as they came, and he planned on making her Mrs. Kross Hunter as soon as he got out. She always hinted that she was fine with getting married while he was serving his time, but he wasn’t going for that. She deserved a decent proposal, an expensive ring, and theexcitement that came with planning a wedding. He didn’t want to spoon feed her bullshit like other niggas who were serving time did with the women who were holding them down. She meant more to him than that.
She carried and gave life to the little boy who had his whole heart. As much as Cassie didn’t want to admit it, Aniyis being born was the main reason she stuck it out with Kross. Having only known him for six months, it would have been easy for her to toss him to the side and move on with her life like people encouraged her to do. However, with Aniyis, he was a constant reminder of what her life with Kross could have been had he never gotten caught up. The six months they spent together were filled with nothing but great times. They never got the chance to tell one another they loved each other prior to him being sentenced, but they both knew Aniyis was conceived out of love.
She harbored a lot of anger toward him for not being around while she was pregnant with Aniyis, and Kross carried a ton of guilt for not being physically present for them. He knew the money and the phone calls would never make up for him not being able to hold her hand while she pushed or being present for pivotal moments like Aniyis’ pre-k graduation, but he did what he could.
Cassie did her part too. She made sure Aniyis knew who his father was and how much he loved him. As eerie and uncomfortable it was, she brought Aniyis to as many visitations as her motherly intuition would allow. Although he was disappointed whenever she came without his little man, a part of him understood why she opted against it at times. They didn’t want Aniyis getting accustomed to prison visitations. The current circumstance was just their right now, not their forever.
“I’m coming home, baby.” He lifted the picture to his lips and kissed it gently.
He took a moment to shift his attention to the most recent photo of Aniyis he got from the letter Cassie sent him. After much convincing, she finally caved and signed him up for peewee football. Seeing him in his pads and helmet brought a smile onto Kross’ face. He was the perfect mixture of his parents. Cassie’s genes took over for the most part. Aniyis had her oak brown hair that she loc’d in evenly parted dreads, and her rich terra cotta complexion. From Kross, he inherited his deep brown eyes and high cheek bones. Aniyis was a beautiful little boy, and Kross was determined to make sure that he grew up to be everything he wasn’t.
Kross was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the lock on the cell going off. The door was pulled open, and his bunkie was shoved inside. He followed procedure, keeping his back toward the officer as they called for the switchboard operator to close and lock the cell door. Upon hearing the lock click, Ivan let out a deep sigh as he took a look around the cell. It wasn’t usual for the cell to be in disarray. He and Kross typically kept shit tidy and put together since the space was so small.
“My fault, bruh.” Kross shook his head as he began picking up his thin bedding that had been tossed around the cell. “They came and fucked shit up.”
“No shit. What the fuck you do to piss them motherfuckas off?”
“I get out this bitch tomorrow,” he enlightened him with a nonchalant shrug.
Kross’ release was news to Ivan. He had gotten tossed into solitary confinement for a couple of weeks after an altercation with another inmate, so he hadn’t been around. He was a young nigga, only 22, so he looked up to Kross, who was nine years his senior. With his age came immaturity and rash decisions. Kross had spent so much time trying his best to talk him out of being a young, dumb crash-out, but he insisted on doing reckless shit.He was serving twenty years for murder, so he didn’t have much hope for his future, unlike Kross.
