So Many Tears 2

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by Nicole Jackson




  So Many Tears 2

  A Nicole Jackson Novel

  COPYRIGHT© 2019 So Many Tears 2 by Nicole Jackson Published by Nicole Jackson Presents. Unless otherwise indicated, all materials on these pages are copyrighted by the Nicole Jackson. All rights reserved. No part of these pages, either text or image may be used for any purpose other than personal use. Therefore, reproduction, modification, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical or otherwise, for reasons other than personal use, is strictly prohibited without prior written permission.

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  So Many Tears 2

  (Previously in So Many Tears)

  Prologue

  Kim felt like a little girl awaiting punishment, as she approached her front door. Anya’s ass didn’t even bother waiting to see her cross the threshold, before pulling off. Instead of using her key to unlock the door, she just stood there, staring at the door. After a few minutes, the door popped open on its own.

  “The fuck you just standing there for?” Rashad snarled with Junior in his arms.

  “I was just finna open the door,” she slightly slurred, with evident liquor still in her system. Stepping into the house, she nearly tripped over her own feet.

  He gave her a look of disgust. “Is this your idea of getting out for the day? Going around, getting drunk?”

  “Whatever.” Kim rolled her eyes.

  “What was that?” he pressed, as he locked the door.

  “Rashad, can you leave me alone?” she groaned, as she flopped down on the couch. “You wanted me in the fucking house so fucking bad, and here I am. So, shut the fuck up. Damn.”

  Rashad placed the baby in his bouncer, before standing upright. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”

  She pursed her lips. “You.”

  He laughed despite himself. “This bitch really got some nerve, right now. I set aside my day for your ungrateful ass, and you bail out, just because I left to make a 30-minute run. What type of bullshit is that?”

  “Ungrateful?!” she snapped, as she sat up in the couch. “You really got life and bullshit fucked up! I never asked you for shit! It was you who decided that we needed all this bullshit. The same bullshit that keeps you gone all the time. It’s to the point where I get a few hours of your time, at best. Everything comes second to your hustle. Me and the kids included. But I’m ungrateful. Yeah, okay. If anything, I’m beginning to question why are we even doing this.”

  “Is that really how you feel?” He questioned in disbelief.

  “Sometimes,” she sighed heavily.

  He laughed cynically. “After you been flirting with some nigga all over Instagram you don’t know what we doing, huh? I see you.”

  “Flirting? Boy, I know that you aint trying to go there.”

  “What the fuck you mean? You can’t answer the phone for me, but you got some nigga all on your live. The fuck am I supposed to think?”

  “And I know you seen that he was photo bombing me, Rashad.”

  “Nah, what I saw was your ass hop off the live when you saw the nigga. So, it seems to me like you wanna be free to do hoe shit.”

  “Whatever. Believe what you wanna believe.” She snaked her neck.

  He waltzed over to her, seething mad. “Believe what I wanna believe, huh? Let me see your fucking phone.”

  “What?” she squinted.

  “You heard me. Let me see your fucking phone!”

  Defiantly, Kim folded her arms underneath her breasts.

  Losing his patience, Rashad pried her phone out of her hand.

  “Hey!” she shouted, as he backed away, unlocking the phone. “You really are stupid!”

  Ignoring her, he scrolled through her phone, deciding to read the texts first. With no regards to her privacy, he went right to her and Anya’s messages. “Oh, you getting fed up with a nigga, huh?” he questioned, after reading a text. “You should’ve gave that nigga your phone number? Oh, okay.”

  “You’re really low down,” Kim spat bitterly. “That wasn’t for your eyes to see. I can’t vent to my fucking friend?”

  “Nah,” he refuted. “What you should’ve been doing was talking to me.”

  “I’m tired of telling you the same shit!” she exploded. “It’s like you don’t get it!” she hopped up. “Fuck it! I’m tired of this shit. I’m out of here!” she picked up Junior. “The rent is still paid up back at the townhouse for a few more months. We can go stay there, cause I can’t do this shit with you no more.”

  “Girl, you done lost your fucking mind. You aint going no fucking where. That must be that liquor talking.”

  “Well, you know what they say. A drunk person speaks a sober person’s mind,” she quipped.

  “So, you really wanna go?!”

  “I might as well,” she sassed, truly enjoying getting a rise out of him. “You leave us every day, anyway.”

  “Kim, put my son down, before I hurt you in this bitch. On God.”

  “Nigga, stop putting everything on God, cause you aint gon do shit.”

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Keep talking.”

  “What chu gon do?”

  He shook his head, as he pointed a shaky finger. “You really trying me, man?” Looking at her in that white in red, she looked like a little devil, when she used to be his angel. “The fuck happened to you, Kim?” he found himself asking. “You used to be a good girl. Now look at you.”

  She looked him up and down. “Nigga, you happened to me. The fuck you thought?”

  “Nah, don’t try to—” he got out, before someone rang their doorbell. “Fuck, man. You got me in here doing all this screaming and shouting. These white folks done probably fucked around and called the laws.” He glanced down at his cell, which gave him a view of the live footage outside of his home, and it was indeed the police.

  “Yeah, they’re probably ready to take your black ass to jail,” Kim giggled. “So, I’ll answer the door,” she volunteered.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Rashad scoffed, offering no objections. He knew that she had a better chance at resolving the issue. As a young black man, he avoided interacting with the police at all cost.

  Handing him the baby, Kim switched over to the door, before pulling it open. “Hi,” she smiled at the two white male officers. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Yes,” one officer spoke up. “Are you Kimberly Bell?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Okay. I need you to put your hands behind your back. You’re under arrest.”

  Chapter 1

  “Kimberly Bell, you are being charged with aggravated assault for the act of preventing the breathing by way of choking of one, Caresha Mitchel. Your bond is set at $30,000,” the judge announced through the television screen.

  Kim stood in disbelief, as she stood in preliminary court. This was her first time in trouble, and she was totally ignorant to the trappings of the legal judicial system in Texas. Any random person could literally wake up one day, decide that they didn’t like you, lie to the police with no actual proof, and then have you locked up. Before this day, no one could’ve paid her to believe that it was that simple, but unfortunately it was. Skinny Minnie had come back with a vengeance, in the worst way, and Kim was literally shaking.

  “Aggravated assault?” she mumbled, as an officer coaxed her to go sit down. Her time with the judge was over. There was nothing further to discus
s, unlike they made it appear in the movies. She never had a chance to utter a mere rebuttal. She was voiceless, while her fate rested in complete strangers’ hands, who clearly could give a damn about her or her plight.

  Feeling like she was on the brink of a nervous breakdown, Kim sat on the bench next to the other offenders. The young Black girl sitting next to her was rather calm and well put together, while Kim was outwardly falling apart. Sniveling uncontrollably, she cried as her lips trembled helplessly.

  “Hey,” the girl whispered, as she tapped Kim’s thigh. “I don’t know what happened in your case, but don’t let this drive you crazy, girl. They love to trump up charges up here to get more money or time out of you. More than likely they’ll lower the charges eventually to a simple assault or if you got the right amount of money, you can beat the charges, period. Shit, and I’m in here for hitting up the Galleria, so I know you got access to some money or know how to get it, with that Chanel you rocking. So, call ya people, bond out, and lawyer up. If anything, I’d be pissed, cause you finna waste a lot of time and spend some bread, but you’ll be alright. Especially if you got somebody out there willing to come get you. And you definitely look like you do.” She winked.

  Kim nodded, while wiping a tear, as she was appreciative of the advice. “I’m just glad that he recently forced me to learn his number by heart.”

  The girl giggled. “Well, that’s a good thing, shit. But I know better. As much as I get caught up. I memorize everybody number. And I’m calling all phones until that bond is posted.”

  “Hey,” Kim cracked a smile. “I feel you.”

  “Okay, ladies,” a female officer voiced. “Stand up and follow me. And don’t hold up the fucking line, running ya mouths.”

  Like a fish out of water, Kim timidly followed instructions. It was unsettling to be in that place comprised of old cruddy cement. Jail was nothing like she’d imagined it. The criminals, for the most part, were well behaved. The correctional officers were the true animals in the facility, as they spoke vulgarly, all getting super high on power trips. They didn’t care if you were simply there for delinquent parking tickets. You were spoken to and treated like shit. Therefore, Kim was actually relieved when she was led into an overcrowded holding tank with limited seating. At least there, they would be separated from the officers.

  Taking a deep breath, she ambled over to the free pay phones, which were damn near like punishments within itself. Instead of a receiver, you had to speak through and listen from a speaker, similar to a buzz up at a building. You even had to hold down a button the entire conversation, which only lasted in ten minute-intervals. This meant that you had to uncomfortably press your ear to the speaker to hear anything, before rotating to speak. Since Kim had to stand and watch three other women make calls for over thirty minutes, she’d gotten the gist of the set-up before it was finally her turn.

  Leaning against the wall, she anxiously dialed Rashad’s number. For a second, she feared that he wasn’t going to pick up, when he finally answered.

  “Yeah,” he simply uttered into the phone.

  “Hey,” she sighed. “It’s me.”

  “Me who?”

  She sucked her teeth. “Really, Rashad? I know we exchanged words earlier, but now is not the time for that. This is serious.”

  “We exchanged words? Is that how you wanna put it? Cause I could’ve sworn that you was seconds from packing your bags.”

  Sighing heavily, she held her head in frustration. “However it was, you think that I’m worried about that, right now? Nigga, I’m in jail,” she curled her lips.

  “And? Seems like that was gonna happen regardless. At least now I know what it is with you, before I would’ve jumped out there, trying to save a broad who was ready to throw it all away to be a thot.”

  “Are you serious, right now?” her voice cracked. Something deep inside of her told her that Rashad would never leave her hanging like this, but the entire situation was highly stressful. She needed him to be her rock right then and tell her that everything would be okay, but he was too salty at the moment, and wanted her to suffer.

  “Was you serious about the shit you said earlier?” he countered, sounding serious as cancer. Oddly, Kim picked up on the fact he was seemingly seeking a legit answer, telling her that their tiff had impacted him more than she’d presumed. Frankly, she’d mostly been talking shit in the heat of the moment, but clearly, he’d taken some things to heart.

  “Rashad…” she got out, before the operator interrupted her, letting them know that they had one minute remaining.

  Rashad huffed. “Look, just go ahead and hang up and call right back. Aint no sense in waiting on that lil minute to run out, and that shit cut off the conversation.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, before ending the call. Doing as instructed, she called him back immediately. This time, he answered on the first ring.

  After listening to the operator’s instructions, Rashad was right back on it. “Like I said, man. Did you mean that shit?”

  Kim frowned, thinking that it was weird that he wanted to talk about their argument, while she was incarcerated. Hell, she wanted to know if he was planning on bonding her out or whatever, but clearly, he was dead set on getting his answers. Then that made her wonder if her answers were going to be what determined her fate. She was praying to God that he wasn’t that petty.

  “Rashad, where are you, right now?” she asked, avoiding his question.

  “Heading to pick up something from the west.”

  “So, where are my kids, while you’re doing that?”

  “My grandma got ‘em.”

  “Your grandma? I thought that you don’t deal with her like that?”

  “I didn’t, but now I do,” he said simply. “But fuck all that. Answer the question, Kim.”

  She exhaled. “I really don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Cause I refuse to plea bargain with you. It’s like you’re holding something over my head, daring me to say the wrong thing. Regardless of what I really feel, Ion like that shit.”

  “Okay, fair enough. So, let me say this. This conversation aint gonna determine shit when it comes to you being in jail. I put that on my kids.”

  “Uh-huh, if you say so. But to answer your question. My only truth earlier was that I was pissed off. It feels like I’ve been saying the same shit over and over, but you don’t hear me. You never do. I don’t care about balling. I could care less about the Benz. That’s what you want, and it’s keeping you away too much. I feel disconnected. Lonely. Then you try to justify all these sacrifices by throwing up things I never asked for. I’m not trying to turn you square. I understand that certain things are just naturally in you. I get it. But there has to be some compromise. Cause things are changing…and right now it’s just me. More and more I adjust to you to suit you, because I love you. Truth is, you’re all I have. So, I’ll never get comfortable with something that constantly poses a threat and could potentially take you away from me. And I really feel like I’m in a tug-a-war for your heart. It’s me versus the streets. And I swear that I be losing most days. That’s when loving you can be painful because I get to feeling like I don’t completely have you. I’m competing. That makes me feel empty. That creates resentment. So, when I said that I sometimes question why we’re even doing this, it’s because I feel like you’re half-assing it. And I think that deep down you know that. Hell, you knew it from the beginning, but I wasn’t trying to hear you, and now we’re two babies in. But what I really want from you is this…if one day it hits you that the streets has this hold on you and you really just wanna go full in, and focus solely on that…until you’re truly ready, then just come to me as a man…and set me free. I know it sounds crazy, but nothing is worse than loving somebody who doesn’t love you back or at the same compacity.”

  For a few seconds, Rashad said nothing.

  “Hello?” Kim voiced.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” he answered. “I—”
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  “You have one minute left,” the operator interrupted him.

  Breathing into the phone, he groaned. “Just hang up and call back.”

  Needing to hear nothing else, Kim ended the call. That’s when she heard someone loudly suck their teeth behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, Kim noticed that there were a few girls waiting to use the phone. There were two other phones which had been rotated a few times, while she was still making calls, which was beginning to rub a few people the wrong way. Especially since they could all hear the nature of the conversation. This bitch was caking on the damn phone, talking about being lonely, while several people needed to call their mamas and get some money on their books for commissary. Real shit. While she was in Lala land, talking about irrelevant shit.

  Turning her back on the glaring broads, Kim made her call. “I’m gonna have to make this my last call for a few, because it’s a bunch of people waiting to use the phone.”

  “Man, fuck them hoes,” Rashad fussed. “Aint it other phones in that bitch?”

  “Yeah, but I been on the longest,” she explained.

  “So? I mean, are they threatening you or something?”

  “No, hell, no. Nothing like that. I’m just being courteous.”

  “Then like I said, fuck them. It’s other phones for them to use.”

  Kim found herself giggling.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You. You really aint trying to get off this phone. Like I aint in fucking jail. The fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Anyway,” he dismissed her assessment.

  “Yeah, anyway. Why did you get quiet earlier, after you pressed me for answers?”

  “Cause you fucked my head up.”

  “How so?”

  “I can’t believe that you been walking around believing that this shit is one sided. It’s really like the most unbelievable shit I ever heard in my life.”

  “What’s so unbelievable about that?”

  “Girl…” he trailed off. “Is you for real? In the short amount of time we’ve been in each other’s lives, name another human being other than Kay who knows you better than me.”

 

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