Page 18 of Still Yours

Thirty minutes later, Dexz was dropping Burner off at the hospital. Pretti had been texting him to make sure he was okay, so he headed home. It was three in the morning, so he figured he could take the bags to his stash spot the following morning. He pulled in front of their underground parking structure and waited for the gate to open. As he was waiting, he saw red and blue lights flashing behind him.

“Fuck... the fuck twelve want with me?” he uttered to himself as he looked through his rearview and watched them get out. He was slightly irritated they were fucking with him at three in the morning, but he kept his cool. He had four duffle bags with him, and he knew they’d land him some time in jail. He rolled the window down.

“Good morning, sir. Are you Dexten Kingsley?” the male cop asked as he gazed inside Dexz’s truck.

“Yeah, that’s me. What’s up? I'm just coming from a late-night shift, and I live here,” he said as he watched the cop’s eyes look through the car. He had the bags in his hatchback, so they hadn’t seen them yet.

“Can you step out of the car? We have to place you under arrest for battery,” the officer said, tugging at his locked door.

Dexz smacked his lips and swung the car door open. He knew he was going to jail, and he was mad. He knew why they were there, but he wasn’t going to snitch on himself.

“I ain't batter nobody. You got the wrong man.”

“We have you on surveillance, pistol-whipping a man in a barbershop. Trigga Raynes.”

He frowned. “He violated my best friend!”

While he argued with one cop, the other started searching his truck.

“Sir, I need to see your license so I can run it,” the officer said to an obviously annoyed Dexz.

“What you need to run my shit for? You say you had me on tape. Evidently, you know everything about me already if you know where I stay.” He shot at the cop in his thick New York accent.

“Sir, there’s no need to get hostile. Now give me your license so I can cuff you.”

Before Dexz could reach into his pocket, the other cop came from his hatchback with a sinister grin.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” the officer said, holding up two kilos of cocaine and a stack of money.

“Put your fucking hands behind your back, dope boy. You beat that man over dope, not your friend. Not only are you going for battery, but you’re also going in for these drugs and illegal money.”

Dexz didn't say a word as they handcuffed him. He held his head high and was going to take his charges like a man.

“Oh my God, what are y’all doing to him!” Pretti shouted. She had heard commotion, so she looked out the window. She was up studying and waiting on Dexz. When she looked out her bedroom window to see what was going on, she saw him and the cops.

“Ma’am, you need to go back in the house. None of this concerns you,” the officer said aggressively and slightly pushed her away.

“All of this concerns me. He’s my best friend!”

“Go in the house. I’ll contact you and let you know what’s up. Everything is going to be okay.” Dexz was trying to stay calm because he knew she was scared seeing him in handcuffs.

“No! Why are they taking you, Dexten? You can’t go to jail. What am I going to do without you?” She cried out. She looked at all the money and drugs on the front of the truck. She knew what he did for a living, and she didn't care. Drug money kept them off the streets, so she didn’t judge him for his occupation.

The cop shoved Dexz towards the police car.

“Ma’am, he gets a phone call when he gets booked. I’m sure he will call you,” the officer assured her.

“Noooo, Dexten! Tell them you can’t go!” She whined like a child.

“I can’t tell them nothin’, ma. I’m sorry.” After keeping his head up for so long, he finally dropped it.

Hearing Pretti cry out for him made his heart hurt. He hated that he had to leave her, knowing he was all she had. Thoughts of her being left alone in the world haunted him all the way to the station. He knew he had to put a plan together to make sure she was straight. He knew he was going to get some time for all the drugs he had.

When he got to the station, he skipped calling Pretti and called Kayla. He knew if he called Pretti, she would spend his time on the phone crying.

“Yo, Kayla, I’m locked up. I need you to do me a favor,” Dexz said as he looked around at all the dopeheads and pimps sitting around waiting to get booked.

“Jail? Nigga, what the fuck did you do?” she asked.