Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
The questioning doesn’t take long. All he says is that I’ve missed my last two weekly meetings, and I was involved in an incident with a firearm.
“We rest, your honor,” Ms. Henley says.
“Do the members of the parole board have any questions for the witness?”
The board members confer for a moment until Ms. Guzman says, “No, your honor.”
“Very well. Ms. Briggs, you may call your first witness.”
“I call Mr. Falcon Bellamy,” Lola says.
I rise and get sworn in by the bailiff.
Then I begin reciting what Lola told me. “Good afternoon, Your Honor, members of the parole board. I appreciate the opportunity to address these allegations. I want to start by saying that I take my parole seriously and have been working hard to reintegrate into society.”
Lola asks questions, and I answer precisely and concisely, as she instructed, keeping my demeanor cool and collected. I tell them the story of the last few weeks of my life.
After that, I launch into my second recitation from Lola. “I fully understand the gravity of my actions, and I’m committed to making amends. Revoking my parole would be devastating to my efforts to rebuild my life. I’m willing to accept whatever sanctions the parole board deems necessary to address this lapse and prove that I can continue to rehabilitate successfully.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bellamy,” Lola says. “We rest, your honor.”
“Does the board have any questions for the witness?” the judge asks.
They confer again, this time longer.
Fuck.
Finally, though, “No, your honor,” Ms. Guzman says.
“Very well then.” Judge Rodriquez bangs her gavel. “We’ll recess until the board makes their decision.”
“All rise.” From the bailiff.
Once the judge leaves for her chambers, Lola and I head out of the courtroom.
“Well?” I ask.
“It could go either way, but the fact that the board didn’t ask you to explain anything further is a good sign. All we can do is wait.”
So the waiting begins.
It’s the waiting that kills you.
The waiting each day on the inside, for your prison cell to click unlocked. To stand outside the door, waiting for inspection.
The waiting in line to get your shitty food.
And the waiting…
The waiting for a new prisoner to arrive—one that may change the dynamic.
That’s what Zion thought he was going to do that day.
The day I broke Zion’s jaw, I knew I’d have to watch it.
He’d been challenging me since he got here, despite his small stature, and he was strong for sure.
I knew the type. The kind who’d been picked on when he was little because of his size, so he learned to use it in his favor. He worked out, got strong, gained muscles… And then he became a bully. He bullied the bullies, and he became addicted to power. When there were no more bullies, he bullied everyone else. Beating up others made him feel strong. Made him feel like he was someone.
So he took it a step farther.
He started beating women. That made him feel even stronger because it took less work.
Then he graduated to rape.
Rape of both men and women.
Until he finally killed one and then another.
“I lost count after a while,” he used to say with an evil grin on his face.
What kind of person loses count of the lives he takes?
I made it clear he wasn’t touching me or anyone on my block. He tried to strike alliances, turn my men against me. When none of them took the bait, he started recruiting from other cellblocks, and pretty soon he had a nice gang of troublemakers—enough strength that he thought he could take out Savage.
One day, during our outdoor recreation time, he and two others jumped me on the asphalt.
They’d clearly paid off the guards not to intervene, and while a few of my men tried to, they didn’t last long. They helped, though, taking the two minions out and leaving me with Zion.
I didn’t come out smelling like a rose from that one. I had two black eyes, a broken nose, and a couple broken ribs. I felt like a truck had run over me.
Zion himself suffered the worst.
A broken jaw.
I never said a fucking word for the couple months he walked around with his jaw wired shut, having to drink his meals through a straw. Not being able to talk, but only being able to rage at me every time our gazes met, his skin turning red with anger.
I never said a fucking word.
My men did, though. They jeered at him at every chance they got.
And I didn’t try to stop them.
But I knew…
I knew that when his jaw healed and he could talk again, I was in for it.
So I had to prepare.
I had to prepare myself and my men.
Because he was going to try to take out Savage.
And this time I’d have to stop him for good.
20
SAVANNAH
I take Vinnie downstairs, show him the shooting range, the workout area, and of course the bunker, in case of a true emergency.