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Retribution
Noun
Punishment inflicted on someone as vengeance for a wrongful, usually criminal, act
Synonyms include: penalty, fate, reckoning, recompense, vengeance, restitution
I slid my hand into the sliced mattress pad that had caused twenty-two months of back pain and retrieved the burner inside of it. I then fished the plastic bag from the sink to retrieve the battery pack and SIM card that had both only been used once for activation before being brought inside.
The number that was stitched in my brain, backward and forward, made it easy for my fingers to glide across the buttons without mistakes. After pressing the green button, I held the very top of the flip against my ear.
“Yeah?” Malachi answered the line.
After twenty-two months, it felt so fucking good to hear his voice.
“Now, you can come get me, nigga.”
“Say less.”
EPILOGUE
It had taken three additional months to kiss the fresh air on the other side of the fence, but that shit was still sweeter. Because there wasn’t shit the system could offer me but an expunged record, eventually, I left nearly empty-handed.
Everything I owned, except my image and the box of letters, I’d given to the men that made my stay more pleasant. Where I was headed, there was no need for anything I’d acquired during my incarceration.
A black Escalade awaited my arrival. Beside it stood Mercer, leaning against the grill that was massive in stature. It was a good fucking day to see either of the men who had come from the same womb as me. I hadn’t gone more than a week without seeing their faces, so a twenty-five-month stint was an all-time high.
Mercer had left us for a few years and Chem was hardly home, but they were the exception. Prior to their encounters with the law, I saw them more often than not. Family was everything for us all. The little we had left, we cherished.
“Ain’t picked up a fucking pound. Were you even eating, nigga?”
“When you’re used to lobster and medium-well steak, it’s a fucking adjustment to have noodles on the daily.”
“Right on. Right on.”
“But nah, a nigga was getting swole than a bitch. After I hit Malachi’s line, I got my ass out of that cell and put that work in. Couldn’t come home with little ass legs and a belly the size of Santa’s.”
“Damn,” Mercer snickered, pulling me in for a hug.
“Nah, you know a nigga exaggerating. Won’t ever catch me slipping like that.”
“I love you, bro. Real shit. Happy you’re home. Never been happier to have your boney ass shoulder pressed against mine.”
“Fuck you!”
I shoved Mercer into his truck, taking a second to recover from his honest comedy.
“I love you, too, bro.”
“Come on. The quicker we get out of this lot, the better off we’ll both be.”
“Shit, you ain’t gotta tell me twice.”
I rounded the truck and hopped my ass in the passenger seat. It didn’t take long to realize Mercer and I weren’t alone. Milo and Malachi sat on opposite sides of the backseat with smiles stretching their cheeks and exposing their teeth.
I was out of the truck in a flash. Chests, hands, backs, and shoulders bumped against one another as we embraced.
“Welcome home, nigga,” Milo asserted. “It’s a good fucking day.”
