Chapter 32

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Deandre Martin

I could feel the burn in my arms as I went into my fifth set of push ups within the past hours. Being cooped up in this cell only gave me the option of keeping myself in shape and being sure to always look over my shoulder. As of the moment, only the clique knows that I'm locked up, that's including Breanna and Juliana. Last thing I needed were my elders finding out about my inconvenience, so they're convinced that I'm back handling some business in Cali.

My story was plain and simple when the police tackled me down outside of Sincere's house. The last thing I needed was my shorty going to jail, and being the type of nigga I am, I'll do anything for the girl I love. The questioning was happening on the daily and I couldn't keep the pigs out of my face. Due to how dangerous they swore I was, they threatening to transport me out of the county jail if I didn't speak up, and since I couldn't post bail, shit was looking bad for me. Sincere offered to come see me, but them detectives always had some other shit in mind. I honestly didn't want her to see me like this, but she couldn't either way it went because they revoked my visitation opportunities until I can give them the "deeper aspects" of the case. I didn't have the freedom of everyone else, I was on lock down for twenty three hours of the day, only getting an hour in the recreation area by my lonesome. It was something completely off about my case, but I wouldn't know the accusations until I can get the pigs to talk.  The questioning I'm called in for daily is something abnormal. The investigation seems to run deeper than the story I'm providing them with.

My push ups on the dirty ass floors of the cells came to a halt, and I was soon to go into some sit ups but was rudely interrupted. The buzzer went off and I rose an eyebrow as my door opened and two of the police officers were standing with cuffs. I knew the procedure all to well as I turned around, allowing them to handcuff my wrists and shackle my feet. The orange jumpsuit and the jail slides made me feel uncomfortable as fuck. I was a criminal, no doubt, but I wasn't no killer. This shit classified me as something different.

"Let's go inmate.", one of them said, smiling at me as his yellow ass teeth became visible. I sucked my teeth as his corny ass before blowing out a slightly exaggerated sigh. The people that work in these cell blocks always tried to punk a nigga.

Following one of them down the hall as the other walked behind me, I took the usual route to the investigation room. There was the usual cat and mouse game of the good cop, bad cop ordeal, but when I stepped in this room, all that shit went out the window. The usual procedure was no longer the case as I walked into the room, seeing detectives that I wasn't familiar with. The cell block officers sat me in the chair on the opposite end of the table before leaving me with these unfamiliar faces. The shit made me uncomfortable, and I wasn't feeling all of this. I made my claim, and I don't plan on giving them shit until I have my lawyer on stand by, which Choppy is currently getting situated before it's time for my court date next week.

"Hello Mr. Martin, allow me to introduce myself.", a middle aged woman within a pants suit smiled at me, being the first to speak out of her and her male counterpart. "My name is Trisha Marks, and I'm here to not only help the good people of Miami, but I'm here to help you."

"I don't need your help ma. I got 'dis shit and I damn sure don't want no help from the opps. I'm good off allat' shit.", I said, simply shutting her down. Last thing I need is a bitch and a hoe ass nigga trying to get all up in my head. My mind is already set on how I plan to handle this case.

"Allow me to finish, see Mr. Martin, with the way your case is set up, I'm really your only option.", she smiled, taking a seat within the chair in front of me. She placed the manilla folder in front of her and began opening it, pulling out a few papers as she began to lay them out in front of me. Many of them were faces, faces that I found entirely too familiar. Faces that I thought would never be brought up again. Faces that will shed light on all of the darkness I've tried to keep in my past. "This situation is deeper than a little sexual assault shooting and you and I both know this."

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