Loyalty | 18+

Prologue

Maëva Carter Simmons, you stand here today charged with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, a serious offense that has consequences not just for you, but for the community as a whole...

After careful deliberation, this court finds it necessary to impose a sentence that serves justice and ensures the safety of the community...

You are hereby sentenced to two years in a correctional facility. Additionally, you will be placed on probation for one year following your release...

AUGUST 2023

TWO YEARS BEHIND BARS FELT
like an eternity, a never ending loop of monotony, steel bars, and endless bullshit. Every day was a replay of the last, trapped in a cycle without an escape, like some twisted Groundhog Day scenario minus the happy ending.

But today? Today was liberation day. Stepping out of those gates, I inhaled the gritty aroma of freedom mingled with the familiar stench of the city—a cocktail of victory, piss, and gasoline.

And there she was, Missy, screeching like a banshee perched on the hood of her battered Honda Civic. "Welcome back to the jungle, bitch!" she bellowed, her voice slicing through the air.

I couldn't help but smirk, sauntering over to her. "Easy there, Missy. You're gonna scare off the damn pigeons."

We shared hugs and jabs, our banter a familiar melody in the cacophony of the streets. Missy was my ride-or-die, the only one privy to the mess of probation waiting for me beyond those gates.

Speaking of which, probation was a whole new ball game. Rules and regs suffocate me at every turn, forcing me to stay on my toes. The gang remained clueless, but Missy? She had my back, like always.

I wasn't about to drag her into this mess, though. She been holding down the fort while I counted down the days behind bars.

So there we were, cruising through the wild streets of New York City, ready to face whatever the concrete jungle had in store. The past might have been a bitch, but the future? That was mine to conquer.

Shielding my eyes from the blazing sun, I stepped out of the car beside Missy. She was already buzzing with excitement, unlocking the door and bounding up the stairs to my new townhouse. But as she eagerly rushed ahead, I lingered at the bottom of the staircase, a hint of reluctance tugging at my steps.

Sliding into the crib, a wave of stress hit me like a ton of bricks as I thought about the chaos awaiting me outside those walls. Probation, gang affairs, dodging the feds—it was all piling up faster than I could handle. But as I scoped out the digs, a stubborn resolve simmered within me. No matter what, ain't nothing gonna stop me from claiming my slice of freedom.

"Looks even tighter in person," I quipped, trying to keep the tension at bay.

Missy's eyes sparkled with pride, but I could see the worry lurking behind 'em. "Girl, you don't even know the hustle it took to score this place—fake IDs, forged checks, the whole nine yards."

"Thanks a mil, Missy. I'll make it right, swear," I promised, feeling the weight of my words hang in the air.

With a dismissive flick of her hand, she waved off my gratitude. "What? Bye!" She chuckled, attempting to shift the focus. "So, spill. How's life been treating you so far?"