Armani
I sighed and shook my head as I scrolled down my timeline on Instagram. People had been speaking on Desiree's situation and false claiming her since she got locked up two weeks ago. The shit is irritating and I wish people would stop tagging me in their posts, as if I know or care about them.
Both me and Busta have been doing everything we can to get her out but shit just hasn't been going how I want it to. Just last week they canceled her visits and said she could only call twice a week. When we do talk, it's about Sierre. She seems so stressed out and knowing I can't be there to make her feel better fucks with me.
There be so many times when I want to tell her about the stupid shit I be thinking about. Times when I want to lay in her arms and pretend to listen to her stress about her nails. Now that I really need her, she's not here. That's never happened; even when we're not on good terms I know I could still talk to her about anything but now I can't because she's locked up and they record the phone call conversations.
I feel like I'm losing myself. The only thing that's keeping me sane is Sierre but he recently started acting different. He's been so distant lately and I don't know what to say or do that would make him feel better. Imma have to figure something out tho, can't have my lil nigga out here sad an shit.
"Armani?"
I looked up to see a officer standing in front of me. I was about to curse him out for speaking to me but I recognized him as the officer that was a huge fan of Desiree's.
He extended his hand and I shook it with the opposite hand my phone was in, being sure to make eye contact with him.
"I wanted to talk to you." he said.
I looked around, taking in my surroundings. I was on the other side of Brooklyn, where mostly killers and gang members live. I needed something to do with my time before I have to go and get Sierre from practice and it's been a while since I've posted up on the block.
"Wassup?"
"Not out here. This is something personal, for you. I recommend we go somewhere private." he said.
I slipped my phone into my pocket and fished my car keys out. I used the panel to unlock my car doors. I motioned for him to get in as I opened my car door and proceeded to get in.
Once he was in, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his thermal jacket and gave it to me. I took my time unfolding it before squinting my eyes to read the small letters that were imprinted on the paper. It basically told me that Desiree had been getting into a lot of fights and I sighed, knowing she would tell me it's because bitches want to try her cause they think she's soft.
"She was supposed to be released last week, but she recently stabbed her inmate so her date was pushed back." he said.
"To when?" I asked,
"3 months from now." he said. "But I'm willing to put in a good word and get her off by Friday." he said.
"In return for what?"
"Nothing. I'm just a guy that wants to help. Especially when I know for a fact Desiree shouldn't be held accountable for a murder she didn't commit. I'm sure you feel the same way." he explained.
"Yeah, but ain't no nigga gon do something for free. Just name your price." I said.
"I don't want anything, maybe just your autograph for my wife. She's a big fan of yours." he said with a chuckle and I looked him over before agreeing.
I watched as he took a piece of paper out of his pocket and I got a pen from my cup holder. I signed my name and tossed the pen back where I got it before giving him the paper and lifting the arm rest up.
