Page 15 of His Favorite Felon

There was a voice that whispered to me. It said that I shouldn’t have cornered her, but there was another voice telling me that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I was having a dilemma with myself, and ultimately I knew who I would believe.

Cambridge was suspicious, but that only lasted a few minutes. He told me to think about it because we didn’t know how she’d react, since she was younger than us. She had just turned twenty-three. Cambridge was a younger version of me; he fucked anything that moved, and because he hadn’t been caught, he wasn’t slowing down for anyone. If I hadn’t admitted to sleeping with an inmate who ended up pregnant, Cambridge and I probably would have bet on who could get the most pussy, but I was trying to do right, key word: trying.

When we finally reached the shop, I opened the door to let her in first, then closed and locked it behind us.

“Chance.” She held her hand up in the air as if to stop me from pressing against her.

“Sweets. I just want to talk.”

“In here?” Her voice squeaked. “Okay. Talk.”

“So, I’m sure it’s not a one-sided thing and that this is mutual.” I started by laying down the foundation that this isn’t only a me thing, shittt. She was eye-fucking a nigga, bad as fuck.

“I’m feeling your lil’ ass. I’m trying to see if we can get to know one another and if that can take us somewhere.”

She looked confused, then giggled under her breath. “So, tell me. How is this supposed to work, Officer Legend? If you just want to fuck, then just say so and don’t try to gaslight me. I don’t need another nigga like my father in my life.”

“Sweets, I promise I ain’t like your pops. That nigga don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you after you told me how he abandoned you.” I shook my head. “If I ever saw that nigga, I’d put a hot one in him, on god.” I may have exaggerated a little, but I had an itch I needed to scratch. I wasn’t above selling my version of the truth.

She didn’t respond to my last statement; instead, she continued. “Don’t get me wrong, you are handsome, and if we met outside of here, I’d def be fucking with you, but I heard about your extracurricular activities. So, tell me why you went through all the trouble of getting me alone. What’s your plan?” She placed her hand on her hip.

I was impressed by how much she changed in two years. I always found it wild as hell how quickly people adapted to their surroundings, like turning into a chameleon, whether for protection or to fit in.

“Naw, Sweetness. I ain’t brought you here to finesse or fuck you over. I’m just stating the obvious. You been watching me, just like I been watching you.” I stopped short to rub my beard. “They gave you seven, right? Two down, five to go. I just want to take care of you. I know it can be lonely in here. You gon’ let me take care of you, Sweets?”

I slowly walked toward her, now that her defenses were falling. I knew I had made her realize just how lonely she had truly been.

She allowed me into her space, so I didn’t waste a second before I placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth and worked my way down to her neck and collarbone.

She stepped back, putting distance between us.

“We can’t do this. I can’t. I’m not trying to get more time added to my sentence if anyone finds out I’m fucking with you.”

Those were her final words before she turned to leave. She ain’t give me a second look or nothing, just left me standing there like a fucking lame-ass nigga with a hard-on.

I don’t know if I was more pissed that she acted like a fucking prize, like she was too good for me. She must’ve forgotten she was in prison and that I was in charge here. I tried to approach her with more respect than I gave others, but she’d learn to fall in line.

It’d been a month since Justice curved my ass. I needed shorty bad as fuck, and she was playing in my face like I was a lame nigga. She started going out of her way not to be left alone with me, and that ain’t sit well with me. I was the prize. She’d be lucky to fuck with a nigga like me. I just had to show her. I wasn’t about to let a fucking inmate play on my top by rejecting me, though. I didn’t care how sexy she was or how much she changed.

She was using her cellmate as a buffer. I was tired of that hoe. I was waiting for the right opportunity to get her transferred to another wing. I needed her to fuck up once, and then it would’ve been my pleasure to separate them.

I had to convince Justice that she needed me more than I needed her, and I wasn’t above lying to her to get what I wanted. I didn’t take rejection well, and seeing her laugh with the bitch Owens every time they saw me made it clear they were laughing at me.

Laugh now, cry later. I was sure I was going to get the last laugh.

It was fifteen past midnight as I walked my rounds. It was Cambridge and me on duty tonight, so everything was cool until I heard a cry… no, not a cry. That was a moan.

I know the women in here be fucking around, but I never witnessed any of the women in my wing doing that shit. I kept my stride, following the faint sounds I was sure were someone fucking. I sped up once I realized the sounds were coming from the units near Kingsley.

When I stepped in front of Kingsley and Owens’ cell, I was in shock and now horny as fuck. Owens was lying on her stomach, her head between Justice’s thighs. Justice was arching her back so high off the bed that I knew she was about to fall apart. Not on my watch.

I swung the cell door open, causing both of them to sit up and cover themselves.

“Legend!” Justice whispered-shouted. “What the fuck are you doing?” she asked.

“About to send your little girlfriend to the hole. Y’all know this is not allowed,” I stated.

“First,” Justice stood up and pulled up her underwear and pants. “She’s not my girl. You know she has a boyfriend.”