Page 19

The door eventually opened, and when it did, the guard brought Justin to the back.

I turned to look at him, and they had this little nigga shackled at his hands, and his feet, like he was a menace to society.

He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, and that shit pissed me off having to see him like this.

I looked at his eyes, and they were low, and held large bags up under them. The bags, and the worry that he had on his face made him look older than what he was.

“Fuck ya’ll got him shackled like that for? He’s sixteen years old,” I asked the guard. His name was Thomas, and he and I went way back. Thomas has been working at this detention center for just as long as I’ve been coming down here. He was a cool guard.

“Law, you know I don’t make the rules. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have this shit on him, but it’s the standard procedure for the high- risk youth.

I can’t make any kind of exception for him.

It’s to protect him, and anyone else that he encounters,” he let me know.

I didn’t agree with it, but I understood it.

I only didn’t agree because I knew Justin wasn’t this feared killer that they were trying to make him out to be. He was a little nigga, probably just hanging with the wrong crowd, making a few dumb ass decisions along the way, but he wasn’t someone that should be feared, and restrained like this.

Thomas pulled the chair out for Justin, and he went ahead, and lowered himself into the seat.

Once he was seated, he picked his hands up that were shackled, and he put them down on the table in front of him.

Looking in his eyes, not only did I see the anger, but I could also see the fear.

His freedom was at stake, he didn’t know what the odds looked like, and I knew that the only thing he wanted to do was go home.

In this moment, there wasn’t shit that I could do as far as taking those shackles off him and letting him walk out of the door with me, so that he could go home.

Because I couldn’t, that’s why I always preached to my sons about being leaders, and not hanging around stupid ass people that could get them hemmed up.

One bad choice, and when those cuffs go on you, you had to sit down and wait to have your day in court just like the next person.

I’ve been to a lot of prisons over the years, seeing my clients, and I’ve placed fears in my sons heads since they were little boys about prison, telling them that that was the last place they would ever want to be.

“You haven’t been getting any sleep” was the first thing that I said to him once Thomas left, and it was just the two of us in here.

“Law, how I’m supposed to sleep? Every time I get a chance to have some kind of access to the phone, I call my mama, and she won’t even pick up the phone for me.

She’s mad at me for killing that nigga. You know how many times he had her walking around with black eyes, busted lips, and shit?

Just two months ago, she had to go to the dentist for a new tooth because he knocked her top one out.

The way he was beating on her, it was only a matter of time before he killed her ass one day.

I jumped in before and tried to break that shit up.

He was out in the living room, tearing her ass up.

I broke it up, and she screamed at me then, telling me to stay out of their shit.

My mama goofy as well when it comes to him.

Me and him were tussling over that gun. If I didn’t get to it first, he would have killed me.

I’m starting to think that all this energy, where she’s crying over that nigga, and ignoring all of my calls, she wouldn’t have done this if he was the one that killed me, and got locked up for it.

She sick in the head man,” he expressed, and you could hear the hurt in each word that came from his mouth.

A few times, his voice even cracked, so you could tell that he was fighting back tears.

Justin just sounded like a kid that loved his mama, and he only wanted the best for her, but she was one of those women that was too busy following behind a nigga, and being dumb over his ass, that she didn’t see that she was in a fucked up, toxic situation, and a man that could raise his hand to put it on you, there was no way in hell that that man gave a fuck about you.

His mama didn’t even care about him. When this shit happened, his mom wasn’t the one to get in contact with me, so that she could get a legal team to protect her son.

It was Justin’s grandmother that reached out, telling me that she was willing to spend whatever on me.

All she wanted was for me to fight to get her grandson out of jail and have him back home.

If his grandmother hadn’t hired me, I would have felt bad for who’s hands his life would have been in.

I was going to fight for this lil nigga like he was my own.

I went a little harder when it came to young, black boys because I was tired of a lot of them having the same ending, which is by the age of eighteen, they were either dead, or in jail.

“I understand that that shit hurt, and you want to get in contact with your mama, but Justin, Ima keep it real with you, that shit is the least of your worries. We got bigger stuff to be worried about. I heard back from the DA, and I’m going to go ahead, and rip the bandage off.

They want to try you as an adult. Either manslaughter, or second degree-

“Man, what the fuck! An adult? Then, they talking about manslaughter or second degree? How many years do those kind of charges hold? I swear the system so fucked up. A nigga been busting my mama in her shit for months, and I step in, and kill him, just defending me, and her, and I’m the one that’s gotta suffer some kind of consequences?

How that even make sense? I got my whole life ahead of me, man.

I know I made some stupid decisions in my life, hanging with the wrong crowd, and shit, but Law, I’m not a bad kid.

I know what I wanna do with my future. I have plans.

After I graduate, I want to go to trade school.

I want to learn how to work on cars. Work a few years as a mechanic, and then one day, open my own shit.

I ain’t no killer, Law,” that cry that he had been holding in, it came out, and it fucked me up because these young boys these days, they like to act like it makes a man a bitch for showing emotion.

Since me, and Justin met, he’s been playing that tough guy role, pretending that he wasn’t feeling this shit, where he was locked up, but after I announced this big boy charge that they wanted to hit him with, he had no choice but to stop playing that role, and tap into his true feelings.

I reached over, and I put my hand on his shoulder, and I shook him. He had his head lowered, as he cried silent tears.

“Look up at me,” I demanded, sitting up in my seat a little bit, with my hands on his shoulder.

The sounds of the shackles that he was wearing made that cackling noise because he used his hands to wipe his tears before looking at me.

His eyes were red, and fear was there. He looked at me with eyes that were pleading for me to help him out.

“I’m not sure what all you know about me, but you obviously don’t know much because if you did, you wouldn’t be sitting here, shedding tears like this.

They gave me the nickname Law when I was just a little nigga because my tongue is powerful, and I know how to get the world to see any, and everything from my perspective.

Next time they let ya’ll out for rec, and ya’ll get to use the computers, look me up, and you going to see that I don’t lose cases my boy.

I’m not about to lose this case right here.

Not when I’m looking into your eyes, and I feel like you’re one of my sons, and I gotta protect you in the same manner that I would protect mine.

We going to fight this shit and leave them with no choice but to throw it out of the window.

Every punch that bitch ass nigga put on your mama, the bruises that she covered up, I plan to bring all of that up in court.

Ima make her ass take the stand too, and I dare her to get her ass up there, and lie under oath,” I let him know.

I could see the hope in his eyes, so I kept going, wanting to give him something to be at peace about, and for this lil nigga to get some sleep tonight.

His lack of sleep was showing all in his eyes.

“Justin, Ima make sure you walk out of here, aight? You going to graduate from high school. You deserve to walk across that stage in your cap and gown, just like everyone else in your graduating class. After high school, you going to take your ass to trade school, just like you said you’re going to do, and your whole life is going to be built with your fuckin name on it.

Ima bring all my whips to the spot too, so that you can add oil, and rotate my tires,” I concluded, and the last part of that made him crack a smile.

I put my hand out for him, so that he could shake it, and even in his shackles, he was able to slap me up, and I sat back in my chair.

For thirty minutes, we went over the details of the case.

His court date was coming up in a few weeks, so I was just going over everything with him, and letting him know the different stances we were going to take in court to win this shit.

By the time I left, he no longer had that look of worry in his eyes, and he was no longer crying.

I could tell that he believed in me. I knew that in this line of business, I was never supposed to promise my clients anything because I knew that anything could happen in the courtroom, but I left him with a promise, letting him know that he was going to get out of this shit, and be back in school.