By Love Betrayed

1

Hector

After 2 ½ years of proclaiming my innocence, it’s the breaking of someone’s clavicle that finally gets me sentt to a psychologist.  He’ll probably be one of those uptight, cheap polyester-blend wearing, swollen face, red necked men  who wears glasses solely for their effect. I’m sure that his condescending attitude won’t allow him to be concerned for his fellow man, even if I am truly innocent. Well, my appearance should surprise him. I’ve seen the way these inmates dress for their psych visits. It’s not exactly his fault that I’m here.

I should have known something was up when that chick all but stalked me for two weeks. Her just happening to show up wherever I was, making it known that she was after me didn’t sit right with me.

If it had not been for one of my lieutenants suggesting that I take her out in an effort to rid myself of her, I most likely would have never seen the inside of a prison. Now I’m not sure who it was that set me up, but what I do know is that she was the beginning of my downfall.

She was a Latina firecracker, what was I thinking?

                *               *               *              

Bryce

Tuesday May 25th. 

Soooo, which “guilty of crimes against humanity but don’t let the Man get me” lowlife criminal is it today.

 Wait.

Deep breath.

 That’s the wrong attitude to have about my job. I love my profession. Taking another deep breath, Bryce picked up her notebook and moved over to the recliner.

Try again.  

Tuesday 10 a.m. I have the express privilege of trying to rehabilitate Hector  “One” Lopez. Let’s see burglary, larceny, and my guess would be that he was set-up.

“Mrs. Weatherspoon, your ten o’clock is here!” 

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