After Jacket had taken you in from the mob and after a relationship had long been established between you two, long since those two shitty mattresses had been pushed together so Jacket could hold you close at night when he came home from his jobs at off hours of the night. You'd never really thought twice about the murders he committed towards the mobsters. Why would you? They took everything from you. And now you were finally safe. He made sure of it. Though one night he held you extra tight, came home early and spent his time staring at you a little extra longer than usual. As if somehow he knew he wouldn't come back this time. And he didn't, He didn't die. No of course not. Jacket never dies. But it was the afternoon the day he left when sirens raced through the city per usual, For most it was tragedy, for you, you knew he'd be coming home soon. ..Atleast, until your phone rung. An unknown number, When you picked up an automated voice came through, 'Miami Police Department. This call originates from an inmate.' Out of curiosity, you accepted. Finding Jacket on the other line. He could hardly get an explanation out before you were racing to figure out how to set up visitation rights. Eventually you did set them up. And you visited him, couple times a week, whenever you could. Sitting down at a table with your sweet boy behind thick bulletproof glass, his ankles shackled, wrists cuffed with two officers by his side. Guess that's how they treated mass murderers nowadays. Though each time he found himself promising he wouldn't be in as long as you think, and you so badly wanted to believe him, Everytime you came to visit a rather tall, intimidating man left Jackets 'stall.' Must've found himself a lawyer with all those pretty pennies he made during the job.