In this chapter I mention folks you should already know from Davenport, Ohio (if you're an avid reader of my books, but if you're not check out Stone' s Revenge).
I brought my old buddy back, Ramsey McPherson for this story who I certainly enjoyed messing with my hero, William in Stone's Revenge.
He's still an ass, but hey can't change those, LOL.
I'm digging my male hero in this story. Of course he's fine (even if he is too young, LOL)
The officers removed the handcuffs and stepped away from Derrick James quickly. His parole officer, Michael Montgomery – who was a Bill Duke look alike- warily stared at the young man at the age of sixteen, who was already six feet tall. Derrick was use to people distrusting him because of his size. Most of the boys in the juvenile home assumed that he had done something felonious to earn him a long-term sentence. When they found out that Derrick had only been sent in for narcotic possession they still believed that he had done something terrible, but just hadn’t gotten caught yet.
Michael looked over Derrick’s file and shook his head. “In my opinion, they should have kept your ass until you reached eighteen.”
Derrick did his best not to comment on the wise cracking parole officer. He promised himself he would do his best to keep his opinions to himself, but – as he cracked his knuckles and rubbed his wrist he was thinking, ‘this mo’fo was asking for it.’
“You don’t plan to hook up with that step brother again do you, Mr. James?” Michael questioned suspiciously, squinting his beady dark eyes at Derrick distrustfully.
“No, sir,” Derrick said coolly, looking at the sweat that appeared above the parole officer’s lips. It was October and the hallway they stood in was quite cool.
The chains were taken off of Derrick’s ankles and the bag of clothing that Derrick’s mother had sent up yesterday was shoved at him. They wanted to be near him as little as possible.
“Go on and change,” Michael ordered pointing to the bathroom.
Derrick took the clothes and went into the bathroom. A plaid dress shirt, a white t-shirt, some jeans and a pair of socks were in the bag. Nothing fancy and they were a size too small.
He couldn’t button up the plaid shirt because of his broad chest and the pants outlined his thick thighs. Derrick had always been thick and at sixteen standing six feet and weighing over two hundred pounds, he didn’t find anything about his size that would be offensive, but everyone else he had ever met had thought differently.
Derrick came out of the bathroom and handed the prison uniform to the guard. He listened with little interest as Michael spit of what Derrick’s plans were.
“Your mother has enrolled you in Davenport High School. You’ll start in eleventh grade and you’re expected to keep a three point oh or better at all times with close to perfect attendance. If I find out that you’ve missed more than three days of school, consider yourself back in the Sawyer County Detention Center until you’re eighteen, mister, and that shit won’t come off your record.”
Derrick gave him a grunt to show he was listening still thinking that this bitch was full of shit. And Michael’s empty threats didn’t mean anything to Derrick cause he had more power in his pinkie that Michael had working for the state for thirteen years.
“You’ll report to me twice a month with a progress report from your teachers, which I will provide for you to give to them. No excuses in not turning them in, Mr. James.”
Derrick nodded half-heartedly wondering if he would have to listen to Michael give him that don’t fuck up speech again.
“And you can let everyone know, I don’t give a damn who your old man knows, if you think you can get away with some shit and I won’t find out about it, then you’re as stupid as you were in the beginning for getting in this mess. I’ll be watching your ass, Mr. James. I’ll make sure you don’t go anywhere for the rest of your life.”
That’s what Derrick was waiting for. Michael Montgomery had been upset over the fact that Derrick’s father had spoken with the Prosecuting Attorney of the County, David Richards, for Davenport and gotten his son out on good behavior.
“What grade?” Derrick mumbled.
“Eleventh,” Michael said.
“But I’m studying at college level,” he disputed.
“But you’re only sixteen. You should have taken your GED earlier.”
Derrick wasn’t going to comment about how they conveniently lost his files and he had taken the GED and passed with a higher score than any of the other sorry asses up in that bitch he just wasted four year of his life
Why’d he go and make that promise to his father? He remembered when his dad had come there. Derrick had been surprise to see the formidable Jerald James because he thought nothing could tear his father away from Canada and his business.
Knowing Rita, Derrick’s mother, she must have prolonged Jerald from knowing about the truth until later. Probably about the third Christmas was about the time Jerald must have picked up something was wrong and Rita wasn’t just trying to keep him from talking to his son. By that time, Derrick had surmised that he wasn’t going to get out, but Jerald knew the Mayor of Davenport, Ramsey McPherson from college and pulled some major strings. Derrick’s exemplary juvenile record helped out a lot on Jerald’s behalf with the parole board, but it didn’t help Derrick against his father’s temper. Jerald warned Derrick he would beat him within an inch of his life if he ever had to leave the territory of Canada ever again on some stupid shit like this.
Jerald also made Derrick promise on everything that was holy not to fuck up again.
Without hesitation Derrick did because his father was no joke. There was this certain fear of Jerald James even though Derrick only saw his father about once a year since he had turned nine. They were the same build now, with Derrick clearly destined to surpass his father in height, but Jerald had this certain strength that was more than physical. The man was highly intelligent and even if Derrick could kick the shit out of him, Jerald would have no problem coming back and doing even worse damage to Derrick.
Jerald may have been a powerful businessman, but his roots were from the streets of Detroit and he could fight dirty like the worst of them.
Derrick still remembered the threat Jerald made to him when he was just five years old and Derrick had raised his had to hit his father. “Boy, when you strike me you better strike to kill because if I get back up, consider your ass grass. And even if you killed me, I’ll come back as a ghost and whoop your ass.”
Until Rita married Tucker Smith five years ago, all she had to do was call Jerald if Derrick got too out of hand.
One thing Derrick didn’t like was to be reprimanded by his father. Jerald had this power to pull something out of a person and leave them emotionally drained.
Right now thought, Derrick barely listened to Michael’s tirade about what to do once he got out and what not to do. Once that was over, he was escorted to a bus that had DAVENPORT on the front. The ticket his mother sent was passed to the bus driver before Derrick even touched the receipt.
He hated not being trusted.
The drive to Davenport was only two hours from the state’s juvenile facility and he went over in his mind his plans. He would find some way to get out of the eleventh grade and into twelfth grade. Of course, he would heed his father’s advice (or more like warning) and stay out of his step brother’s bad track – at least until he graduated – and he would join the football team. He had a letter of recommendation from the warden that told of Derrick’s great football skills at the detention center.
Davenport would be his home until he became eighteen in two years. All he had to do was stay out of trouble.