Page 3 of Felonies are Forever

“You know you can come up to corporate anytime. Get out of the store. I told you.” I twist my head, trying to work out the kink that settled in from falling asleep at my computer last night. All work and no play makes Thadeus a rich, but lonely boy.

Which suits me fine right now. I love to work. Dating and getting laid for the sake of getting laid are not in my wheelhouse. Just doesn’t make me tick.

If I don’t feel it, it’s not my jam. And the truth is I haven’t felt anything in the below the belt department for so long, I’m not even sure my damn equipment still works in a real life scenario. Maybe I’ll find out someday, but until that right girl hits me in all the right places, I’m a workaholic who doesn’t want an intervention.

“Not a fucking chance.” Christopher shakes his head with a crooked smile. The scar on his cheek pulling his eyes a bit crooked. “I like being on the ground. The early mornings. The customers. The routine. It’s my home, bro.”

Christopher has a good nest egg going I’m sure. Like me, he’s not an extravagant spender. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I like my suits and my bike but I don’t spend like I could. I prefer a few bank accounts with plenty of zeros showing.

I’m sure neither of us ever thought we’d be part of the upper crust as we used to call it. The right side of the tracks I guess.

Christopher could come up to corporate, sit in an office, buy a nice place in a suburb, find him a gorgeous wife, suit out his life with a dog and 2.5 kids. But like me, this crazy ass donut business got under his skin. It’s just part of who we are right now.

The bells on the shop’s front door jingle as I nod at my friend in agreement.

I get it, it’s the customers, the routine, early mornings and the smell of donuts baking. That’s what it’s all about. Out at the front retail area Angela greets whomever just walked in with a familiar, “Good morning, what can I get you?” She sounds happy, which is just the way I like it. Treat the staff well and it pays dividends.

Literal dividends in my case.

I clap my hands in front of me, then rub them together before speaking. “Alright, bro. I’m going to go check out the front. Watch Angela work her charm. You tell everyone it’s lunch on me today. If you guys want to go out, I’ll cover the store. Or I’ll bring in whatever you want.”

I look down at my watch. Then pull the cuffs of my shirt so the white shows evenly under the dark grey of my suit sleeve then turn to step toward the front.

“Yes, boss. Er, hold on, wait, there’s something else.” The lightness in Christopher’s voice turns to hesitation. “I got something else you need to know.”

Christopher is no drama queen, so I know whatever is about to be said will not be fucking rainbows and unicorns. I lick mylips and pause at the swinging door that separates the back room from the sales area. He’s rubbing and squeezing his temples, not meeting my eyes.

“I got a call yesterday.” Christopher drops his hand from his temples to grip at the goatee that covers his chin. “Saul, man. He called. Again. Showed up last night. Again.”

Fuck me. I was having a fucking good day.

“Jesus. What the fuck did he want?”

“He wants to work. Hey, that’s what he said, man, I’m just passing on the message.” Christopher shakes his head.

My shirt collar is pinching the back of my neck when I throw my head back. Fuck. I let out a breath to relieve the pressure that’s building inside my head as Christopher continues. “He said he’s straight, and that you told him once if he got his ass straight you’d give him a shot.”

“Yeah, that was before he took two more rides for breaking parole. He’s not straight. I’ll tell you right now, he’s still down on Cass, shuffling whatever he can to get his fix.”

“I don’t doubt you, boss. But he just said you promised and I’m just delivering the message. You’ve helped out brothers before, so it’s not for me to decide.” Christopher throws his hands up and shrugs.

I take a breath and close my eyes. Funny how Saul’s name turned my mood from sweet to sour. He and I were cellmates for a good two years in the fine accommodations at Jackson during my stint. Sharing a small space like that, you get to see the light in people despite all the darkness. So when I got out and made good, I made sure to do what I could to help others like me.

See, the thing about being a felon…you do your time, you get out, you’ve got that big fucking F that comes up on your background check and no one’s going to hire you. So I do what I can when I can for brothers like me. But I’m also not puttingmy own ass and my whole business on the line for someone who can’t show me they’re ready for something new.

Now, Saul—and I can forgive a lot—but he has two downs for sexual assault with a minor. He says he thought the girl was eighteen, and it was a long fucking time ago, yadda-yadda-yadda, but still. Some shit’s difficult to forgive, and he never denied the rest.

I know people can change, and even with that black mark against him I’d give him another chance. Really I would. That’s why I told him what I told him. If he changed, then okay. But he hasn’t.

“If he calls again, tell him I’ll be in touch. I won’t leave him hanging, man. But he’s not ready. Trust me. But I’ll tell him myself. It’s not your job.”

“No, I’ll do it. I’ve got your back. If he comes around or calls, I’ll tell him it’s not his time.”

I nod and drop my arms, hands in my suit pockets. “Thanks, man.”

“Sure.”

For a split second I think about Black and my final gun delivery. Never heard from him again which, considering when it came out the guy that died that day was Black’s son not just an innocent bystander I figured maybe he had an epiphany too and took himself off the grid.

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