called, he had something very important to tell her, something he assured her she would want to hear.
He now had her overly curious.
Chapter 10
The state of the art exercise room was scarcely populated with old white men in sweat suits and sneakers. Their crimes, although felonious, were mainly white collar. Most of them were rich men who'd bilked people out of their life's savings, retirements, and 401Ks. There was no remorse in them. If anything, the only thing they were sorry for was that they'd gotten caught.
As a few of the men spoke to each other while on exercise bikes and treadmills, they spoke about their schemes and their regrets that they'd gotten too greedy at points where they should've pulled out sooner. If they'd pulled out, they wouldn't be sitting in prison for decades being punished for taking innocent, elderly people for every penny they had ever worked for, let alone their houses and their grandchildren's college tuitions.
Among the men, Luke couldn't help ear hustling as he jogged on a treadmill while a flat screen television played on a front wall several yards in front of him. As he listened to the men, he couldn't believe their arrogance. He couldn't believe their lack of remorse. If there was one thing Luke couldn't stand, it was folks who preyed on people who couldn't quite defend themselves. That shit always got underneath his skin.
Luke wasn't an angel of course. He was the furthest thing from it. But he had morals. He had a fear of karma. It was because of those things that he only believed in inflicting revenge on those who were involved in the same game he played, not innocent civilians. It was Chetti and Darien who believed even a person's children were up for grabs if the family was crossed. It was them who'd give the order to murder a mother on a Sunday morning directly in front of church if her son stole from them. Luke could never give that type of order.
An officer walked into the exercise room and headed towards Luke. Reaching him, he said, "Mr. Bishop, you've got a visitor."
"Alright," Luke told him. "Let me get a quick shower first."
The officer nodded.
Luke grabbed a towel, wiped sweat from his forehead and headed off to the shower. Moments later, in a new sweat suit, he was headed across the yard with the officer by his side. Reaching the visiting area, he assumed it was either the Feds or an attorney who was there to see him. It couldn't have been Pamela because all her visits with him took place at the trailers.
The visiting room was filled with dozens of steel tables and benches. Several vending machines lined its walls. Televisions overhung from all for corners of the room. Magazine stands also lined the walls.
"Sit anywhere," the officer told Luke.
Luke sat at a table in the center of the room. A distance away through a window, he could see the trees that surrounded the compound as the sun shined over them. For a moment, he yearned for the life he had beyond those trees.
A door opened.
Luke turned to see who was entering the room. When he saw who it was, he thought his eyes were deceiving him for a moment. He thought it was a mirage. He just couldn't believe it. But as the person began to head towards him, he knew for sure it wasn't a mirage or a figment of his imagination. It really was Cedrick.
Practically leaping from his chair, Luke grabbed his brother and hugged him tightly. "Man, I thought you were dead," he told him. "I thought she'd killed you."
Cedrick didn't hug his brother back. Instead, he kept his arms at his sides. He had no interest in returning his brother's affections.
Finally, realizing his brother wasn't hugging him back, reality struck Luke like lightning. He realized he wasn't worthy of his brother's hugs. He wasn't even worthy of his brother's visit. Realizing all that, he slowly let his brother go, stepped back and looked at him. In Cedrick's eyes he saw darkness, displeasure, and more. Sighing and wishing things
He now had her overly curious.
Chapter 10
The state of the art exercise room was scarcely populated with old white men in sweat suits and sneakers. Their crimes, although felonious, were mainly white collar. Most of them were rich men who'd bilked people out of their life's savings, retirements, and 401Ks. There was no remorse in them. If anything, the only thing they were sorry for was that they'd gotten caught.
As a few of the men spoke to each other while on exercise bikes and treadmills, they spoke about their schemes and their regrets that they'd gotten too greedy at points where they should've pulled out sooner. If they'd pulled out, they wouldn't be sitting in prison for decades being punished for taking innocent, elderly people for every penny they had ever worked for, let alone their houses and their grandchildren's college tuitions.
Among the men, Luke couldn't help ear hustling as he jogged on a treadmill while a flat screen television played on a front wall several yards in front of him. As he listened to the men, he couldn't believe their arrogance. He couldn't believe their lack of remorse. If there was one thing Luke couldn't stand, it was folks who preyed on people who couldn't quite defend themselves. That shit always got underneath his skin.
Luke wasn't an angel of course. He was the furthest thing from it. But he had morals. He had a fear of karma. It was because of those things that he only believed in inflicting revenge on those who were involved in the same game he played, not innocent civilians. It was Chetti and Darien who believed even a person's children were up for grabs if the family was crossed. It was them who'd give the order to murder a mother on a Sunday morning directly in front of church if her son stole from them. Luke could never give that type of order.
An officer walked into the exercise room and headed towards Luke. Reaching him, he said, "Mr. Bishop, you've got a visitor."
"Alright," Luke told him. "Let me get a quick shower first."
The officer nodded.
Luke grabbed a towel, wiped sweat from his forehead and headed off to the shower. Moments later, in a new sweat suit, he was headed across the yard with the officer by his side. Reaching the visiting area, he assumed it was either the Feds or an attorney who was there to see him. It couldn't have been Pamela because all her visits with him took place at the trailers.
The visiting room was filled with dozens of steel tables and benches. Several vending machines lined its walls. Televisions overhung from all for corners of the room. Magazine stands also lined the walls.
"Sit anywhere," the officer told Luke.
Luke sat at a table in the center of the room. A distance away through a window, he could see the trees that surrounded the compound as the sun shined over them. For a moment, he yearned for the life he had beyond those trees.
A door opened.
Luke turned to see who was entering the room. When he saw who it was, he thought his eyes were deceiving him for a moment. He thought it was a mirage. He just couldn't believe it. But as the person began to head towards him, he knew for sure it wasn't a mirage or a figment of his imagination. It really was Cedrick.
Practically leaping from his chair, Luke grabbed his brother and hugged him tightly. "Man, I thought you were dead," he told him. "I thought she'd killed you."
Cedrick didn't hug his brother back. Instead, he kept his arms at his sides. He had no interest in returning his brother's affections.
Finally, realizing his brother wasn't hugging him back, reality struck Luke like lightning. He realized he wasn't worthy of his brother's hugs. He wasn't even worthy of his brother's visit. Realizing all that, he slowly let his brother go, stepped back and looked at him. In Cedrick's eyes he saw darkness, displeasure, and more. Sighing and wishing things
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