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KAIRO CARTER

" N igga where the fuck is the money that you owe me?" I gritted as my cellmate came in with his order from the commissary.

"M-my girl sent it to me, but they took the phone." He stammered as he started to climb to the top of the bunk.

I pushed him down as he hit the floor with a loud thud, and all the contents of his bag fell out. "Nigga put all that shit on my bed. You won't eat round this muhfucka until I get my bread." I barked.

I didn't need his food, but this nigga thought that he had all the sense in the world.

I had arranged for his girl to bring a package to one of the guards.

The plan was for the guard to pay her the money, and then she would send it to him over time since we couldn't have money on the compound.

Now, all of a sudden, twenty thousand went missing because the guards took his phone.

What he doesn't know is that my brother-in-law is one of the guards, and he told me that the nigga's girlfriend was the one who called in the complaint that he had a phone.

They tried to set me up, but I was sixty steps ahead.

That's my fault for dealing with broke ass bitches, because had she actually played her role, she could've wiped her ass with that.

"You tripping Hot! Nigga I said—" He jumped up from the floor, but before he could finish, I sent a right hook to his face that cracked his shit.

He stumbled, but he swung back. It was sweet as apple pie, and it didn't do anything but power me up because I sent blow after blow to him.

The guards eventually heard the scuffle and came to try to pull us apart, but I was locked onto him.

One of the male guards pepper sprayed me, and I turned around and knocked his ass out too.

It didn't take long before the whole shift was on me, pinning me to the ground and cuffing me.

I knew that I was going to solitary from the way that I had beaten my cellmate's ass.

So, I might as well have gone out with a bang.

"Hothead!!!" Somebody called out as I was being dragged to the hole.

I couldn't see, and I was resisting the urge not to scream out because that shit was tearing me up.

Hothead was a name that I had gotten for apparent reasons.

But I didn't fuck with anyone who didn't fuck with me.

I was a cool nigga, but when it was time to take it there, there was no turning back.

"Give me some milk or something," I yelled as they pushed me into the cell and closed the door.

I turned my back to the slot so they could uncuff me.

The female officer opened the slot and spoke into it.

"I ain't giving you shit, and we ain't uncuffing your ignorant ass.

" Before spraying more spray into the opening.

I chuckled and choked. "You just don't come back in to bring my food, I'll snap your fucking neck.

" I said lowly as I struggled to make eye contact with her through the burning.

She always gave me hell because I didn't want to fuck her.

Had I given her some dick when I was first transferred here, I could've had her bringing in my cocaine in her panties.

Still cuffed, I sat against the wall and tried to soldier through the burning of the spray. That shit had to be military grade because it felt like it was acid burning through my face and forehead. Taking slow, deep breaths, I waited for the burning to subside.

"Ro, come here, fool." I heard the slot slide open, and I knew that it was the guard who I had given the drugs to.

I stood from my position, went back over to the door, and leaned down so that he could take my cuffs off.

"Nigga why the fuck did you do that? Grab this," He asked with a chuckle as he pushed through a rag and a milk carton.

"Johnson and his bitch kept the money from the drop," I said as I took it and immediately started pouring the milk on the rag to calm the burning.

"Nah, for real?" he asked as I nodded. He continued, "Look, man. I'm giving you ten minutes to get your eyes together before I need this shit back."

I walked blindly from one side of the small room to the other with the rag over my face. It didn't take long before the burning stopped, and I could see again.

"Ay yo, your attorney is on the phone. Come back to the slot so I can cuff you." He came back not even five minutes later.

Once he buzzed me out of the heavy metal door and cuffed me, I walked the corridor of the jail.

Passing by the cell that I had just been let out of, I saw them in there with mops and rags cleaning up the pool of blood that I had left Johnson's bitch ass in.

I smiled at my handy work. We also passed the officer who was talking shit to me; I winked at her and blew her a kiss that made her scoff.

If I wasn't already fighting to get out of here, I would snap her neck for real.

I reached the phone, and it was the new attorney I had hired.

I had gone through two defense teams, and they were trying to get me to take a plea deal I wasn't about to take.

Corey was my third attorney, and if he wasn't talking right, he would be fired, too.

I wasn't trying to spend another year in prison for nothing.

I don't care if they have footage of me on CCTV, I wanted my team to argue that it wasn't me.

If he couldn't get me off these charges, I would find someone who could.

"What's up?" I said into the phone as I picked up the receiver.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Carter. I was calling you because I wanted to run something past you." I didn't acknowledge what he said; I sat silently, waiting for him to finish. I didn't need anything else to piss me off today.

"Ummm, I was looking over the evidence on the case, and I'm not quite sure how to pull off a good argument. We can-"

"Nigga, either you can or you can't. I'm not paying you in skittles my nigga." I grilled. My patience was thin as fuck already, and I wasn't in the mood for riddles.

"Give me a second. I was going to suggest that we bring in another attorney. But obviously, I have to run it by you because it's coming from your pockets. We could bring in Cashmere Savage to help us pull off the win." He spoke quickly.

I didn't have to ask because I already knew who she was. It was hard as hell to get her on a case; my people had been emailing her for months. Her receptionist said that she wasn't taking new cases for at least another year. Her name rang bells like Johnny Cochran all over the state.

"I tried to get her, but I didn't get an answer."

"We went to law school together; she's a good friend of mine.

If I call in a favor, she'll help me out with no questions asked.

But you know she's a big ticket. As long as you're willing to pay her price, I'll make the call.

" He responded. Money wasn't an issue for me.

If I could have someone on the team that I was comfortable with pulling off the win, I would pay whatever, and Savage would be that person.

"You already know that's cool; get her, and I got that," I assured him before we disconnected the call. For the first time since I had been locked up, I felt confident I would go home soon. If this nigga was bluffing or couldn't get her for whatever reason, I was knocking his ass out next, though.

I put the phone back on the receiver, and I went back to solitary confinement. It was a small thing to a giant; they couldn't keep me in this bitch forever.

I sat in the deposition room at the jail, agitated as fuck.

Corey had claimed that he could get Savage, and she would be here for our meeting, but we had been waiting for her for over thirty minutes.

I tried to give that nigga the benefit of the doubt, but if she didn't make it here soon, I was going to wire his shit.

"Look, man, I'm starting to feel like you playing in my face."

"I know she's running late, but if she said she was coming, she's coming. Trust me." He tried to reason with me.

"I don't give a fuck!!! I'm two seconds away from firing all y'all muhfuckas." I spat just as I heard the door open, and a woman came in with an umbrella and sat it next to the door.

"I apologize for my tardiness. The weather was unfavorable. I'm—" She extended her hand.

"Wasting my fucking time having me waiting," I cut her off, my tone ice as I looked at her. I could see the shock all over her face as she slowly put her arm down before her expression was replaced with a smirk.

"I'm sorry. Is there anything else that you have to be doing right now, sir?" she asked me, with a frown on her face and her arms crossed. She was being cute, but they all had me fucked up.

"Listen, muhfuc- " I said right before my attorney cut me off.

"Hey, hey, let's not do that, Kairo. Let's start on a positive note. This is my partner, Cashmere. Cash, this is Kairo Carter."

Neither of us wanted to acknowledge the other. Corey chuckled as he looked between us and spoke to me.

"Mr. Carter, she's really the best in the business. It would greatly benefit you to have her on your defense team. Her acquittal rate is 98 percent. If you piss her off and she doesn't take this case, consider yourself a permanent resident at this facility." Corey continued.

I knew the nigga was right, so I was going to swallow my pride for the time being. I wasn't even really mad at her for real; I was just ready to get this shit over with. With all my team changes, the trial had been pushed back for the third time, and it had me on edge.

"Look, Cash-" I started.

"Ms. Savage." She corrected with that same smirk still in place.

" Ms. Savage , I apologize for my attitude and language earlier.

Y'all are my third team, so I don't really trust my attorneys at this point.

My anger was misplaced." I said in my professional voice as I licked my bottom lip.

I was not hiding the fact that I let my eyes roam from the top of her head to her designer shoes.

My aggravation had me delirious because there was no way that I should've missed how fucking fine she was when she walked in.

I knew that she was a bit older than me, but she didn't look a day over thirty.

Her caramel complexion, that one dimple that made an appearance when she gave me that sarcastic ass smirk, her titties that spilled over the shirt underneath her blazer, and the hips that looked like they would never stop curving. The woman in front of me was fine as hell.

"Accepted. Can you guys brief me on the details of the case?

? Before we start, I need you to know that I need every single detail.

I don't care if there are three hundred facts to make you look guilty.

I need to be prepared with 304 explanations.

I do not need a proclamation of innocence or an admission of guilt.

Share your confessions at the pulpit; I deal with facts.

" She said as she took the manila folder from Corey and opened it.

Corey looked in my direction and gave me a nod of approval as she started taking notes.

Our meeting lasted for a little over an hour, we were talking, but I couldn't help but look at her titties the entire time she was leaning over and writing.

I didn't see a ring on her finger, not that it mattered to me anyway.

If it was something that I wanted, I would get it.

Watching her body language, she looked serious and tense.

That told me she needed a young nigga to loosen her up, and that nigga was going to be me.

"Mr. Carter, there's one more thing." Just as we ended the meeting, she closed the notepad.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Why is your alias listed as Hothead here?"

"Because when I was little, I was always sick and kept a fever." I shot back quickly, and I pulled my lip between my teeth.

"Cute," She broke character and laughed, showing that dimple.

"Look, you just said that you don't need any admissions of guilt, right? That's all I got for you." I said as I smiled at her.

She looked up at me and then let her eyes fall on the empty table.

"You're right, Mr. Carter. I'll look over the details more in-depth, and then we can reconvene if I feel like I can take on the case. Good?" she said as we all stood.

"Cool," I said. This time, I shook the hand that she had extended to me before she grabbed her umbrella and walked out the door.

Corey looked back at me and chuckled once he caught me watching her ass in that skirt.

I didn't give a fuck how old she was at that point, she was fine as fuck, and I wanted her.

The sooner she could get me out of this muhfucka, the sooner her life was going to change.