by Noire
“Y’all niggahs done fucked up!” Monique screamed from the passenger seat of the first car, a black SUV. “Y’all straight fucked the whole shit up!”
Truth drove furiously, darting down the city streets and cutting off traffic as he struggled to keep up with the cop car that was transporting Juicy.
Monique was in a panic as she watched her two hundred grand speeding up ahead of her and getting the hell away. This had been a major fuckin’ operation and she couldn’t believe how bad Rita had just fucked it up. They’d set up a dragnet and put a nice-ass bounty on Juicy’s head, and there were shit-loads of youngstas riding behind her right now who were just itchin’ to collect it.
Monique didn’t understand it. Where the fuck did those cops come from? There had been ten carloads of slangers circling the airport terminals on the hunt for Juicy. They had been so close! So fuckin’ close! And now her big opportunity was about to slip through her fingers.
“I told y’all how to do this shit!” she fumed. Her breath hitched in her throat and her whole body felt hot. “But nooooo. Y’all just had to fuck it up! Y’all just had to!”
Bilal, a dreadlocked corner boy with a killer’s heart, kept quiet in the backseat, and Twan, a come-up with a reputation for being hotheaded wore a mean-mug as he stared out the window, but Truth was sick of Monique’s shit and he popped right off.
“How the fuck did we fuck it up, Mo? Huh? Tell me how? Rita turned around and busted your greedy-ass game! So how the fuck is that all on us?”
“Because y’all stupid asses was walkin’ all up on her ass, that’s how! Y’all idiot niggahs got too fuckin’ close! Just like you getting too close to that cop car right now! Learn how to back the fuck off, stupid ass!”
Monique knew she had to do something to make this shit right, and she had to do it quick.
“Stay with they asses!” she ordered as a minivan turned the corner and cut in front of Truth.
“I thought you just said to back off?”
Monique reached over and slapped the dog shit outta him.
“Don’t play with me muthafucka!” she spit in a rage. She didn’t know if the rest of their caravan was still following her, but she knew she couldn’t lose sight of Juicy. “Stay close enough where we can follow them, but not so close that they can peep us. I gotta know where them cops are taking her. Get closer! Go around that raggedy-ass minivan! Don’t let them muthafuckas shake you!”
Truth was burning with fury but Monique didn’t give a rat’s ass. Her mind was everywhere at once as she tried to figure out exactly what the hell had just gone down.
Deep inside she knew Truth was right, and that Rita had peeped her at the most fucked-up moment possible. But what the hell was that crazy chick thinking, getting Juicy knocked like that? If Juicy went down then the money went down as evidence right along with her. That meant everybody was fucked. Juicy was fucked with the law, Monique and Salida were fucked outta their big plans, and Rita was fucked outta getting her sister back!
“We gotta get to her…” Monique whispered through clenched teeth. “We gotta get that goddamn money!”
They followed the cop car for just a couple of miles through Queens. It was a borough that Monique wasn’t all that familiar with. But when the cruiser turned to go over a bridge that stretched out over a murky river, she was damn sure familiar with the sign that repped for New York’s Boldest! It read, City of New York Correction Department.
Rikers Island.
Monique knew the joint well. She had done a couple of bids on The Rock back in the day. She had been busted on charges that ranged from prostitution to larceny, and Monique had sworn a long time ago that Rikers had seen the last of her ass.
“Go straight!” she screamed on Truth, just in time for him to avoid following the cop car as it turned onto the bridge.
“Oh hell, no, don’t get on that bridge,” Monique muttered as Truth swung the steering wheel and continued going straight across the intersection. “We don’t even wanna get on that goddamn bridge!”
Two minutes later, Truth had found the highway and the BMW X5 was heading in the opposite direction.
“Where now?” he asked. His voice was filled with rage and bitterness.
Monique was about to answer him when the cell phone she’d been gripping vibrated and shook her so bad she almost dropped it down the side crevice of her seat.
Catching it, she stared at the caller ID and cursed. The last person in the world she wanted to talk to right now was Salida. Monique had no desire to be stuttering and stumbling all over her words tryna justify shit to that over-baked piece of chicken! Because on the real, no matter how she looked at it, and no matter how she attempted to snazz that shit up, there was just no good way to explain that their prized little fishy had just jumped off the fuckin’ hook and was about to swim across a channel in New York’s East River.
CHAPTER 4
We pulled up in the back of a wide, red-brick building. Taking my Gucci bag full of money with them, both cops got out of the car without saying a word, and when their doors slammed shut the only thing I was left with was cold silence to keep me company.
The red sports car that Rita had ridden in was parked up ahead. I sat in the backseat of the cruiser trying my best to catch a glimpse of her, but it was hard to see through that grimy Plexiglas partition.
But what I did see was the Black detective who had flashed me his badge standing outside with the two cops that had busted me. Two correction officers in uniform had joined them. A white guy, and a real tall sistah. The five of them seemed to be having a heated-ass conversation about something very important.
Me.
There was a bunch of back and forth hand moving and head shaking. The DT was hyped. He patted my Gucci bag, then pointed at each one of the officers in turn and counted off on his fingers. He leaned in close to the COs, and nodded rapidly, like he was trying to get everybody to feel what he was saying.
I guess they finally did because suddenly the detective wiped his forehead and nodded slowly. He shook hands with the cops, hugged the female correction officer, and dapped the male correction officer out. Then they all walked through a doorway and disappeared inside the building.
All I could do was sit there and wait. I’d had to pee real bad when I got off the airplane but I’d forgotten all about it when they slapped the cuffs on me. But the urge was back now. Real strong. I was so damn uncomfortable. If I leaned back in my seat the handcuffs cut into my wrists. If I leaned forward my bladder screamed from holding my pee. So, I leaned to the right against the car door and tried to find a neutral position in my misery.
They left me sitting in that car for so long that I nodded off. Yeah, I was shook, and yeah I knew I was going to jail, but I was in shock too, and my body just shut down on me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, even in the face of getting locked up.
I don’t know how much time passed, but the next thing I knew the door I was leaning against was snatched open and I almost fell straight out of the car.
“Let’s go.” The white male correction officer who had been standing outside earlier grabbed my arm and helped me out of the car. As soon as I stood up I looked around for Rita, but the little red car that my best friend had been riding in was now gone. I looked up at the cold stone building they were about to take me in. I was so hurt and mad that I didn’t care if I never saw Rita’s treacherous ass again, yet still…a part of me had never felt so alone.
$$$$$
“Yo, you fuckin’ with me, right?” Rabbit barked into his cell phone. He paused holding the blunt he was rolling in his hands. It was first thing Saturday morning and he hadn’t had his wake up smoke yet, and these niggahs was already making noise in his ear.
“Y’all niggahs had ya eyes on her and neither one of y’all didn’t see the bitch when she dipped?”
“I’m telling you man,” Izzy reported through the line. “We sat outside her crib the whole fuckin’ night just like we was supposed to. Nobody
went inside, and she didn’t come out neither. At least not until around eight o’clock this morning.”
Rabb gripped the cell phone between his shoulder and his ear while he packed the seedless weed inside a cigar leaf. “That’s impossible, niggah. Ace said she was taking two hundred g’s to New York. That shit wasn’t stashed up in her pussy, yo. Either somebody dropped it off or she went and picked it up from somewhere.”
“We was on watch all night long, man. Nobody went in, and nobody came out. When she left this morning we followed her. She stopped at a Walgreen’s for a minute, and then she went straight to the airport and parked her ride. She took the beemer. The green convertible.”
“Did y’all go inside and check her crib?”
“Yeah, we went back and tossed it the best we could. Security musta seen us going in, though. Some old white dude came banging on the door so we had to dip out the window real quick. But from what we could see wasn’t nothing in there.”
Rabb cursed. After all these months this bitch was still a problem. The streets had cooled off after the mob smoked that midget from Compton, so when Ace called and gave them another crack at getting at that doe, Rabb had jumped on it.
“Yo,” he told Izzy. “Go back to that fuckin’ airport, man. Get up in her whip and let me know what you find. Go over that shit with a magnifying glass, you hear? Search every inch of it. I got a feeling that chick got something hiding up in that bitch.”
Rabb clicked off his cell and went back to rolling his spliff. His cousin had promised him a nice piece of change if he could figure out where the girl was holding that money, and with the economy tanking and good licks getting hard to come by on the streets, Rabb wanted that paper.
$$$$$
Salvatore McCain stared out the window at the green BMW convertible that was parked in his mother’s backyard. The phone call he had gotten from Juicy the night before still lingered on his mind. It had been pretty late when her home number flashed across his cell phone. He had just finished jacking his dick, and he was kicked back enjoying a Philly blunt packed with prime Columbian Gold and her call had caught him by surprise.
“Hey Sallie,” Juicy had said. “I need a favor.”
“Then you got one,” he’d answered. Sallie had hung out with Gino and Juicy a lot before they took that hit on their wedding day, but now with Gino dead, the Juicy he had known seemed gone too.
“You know you’re good for anything,” he told her, playing the big-brother role. “Just tell me what you need me to do and it’s done.”
“I gotta make a quick run,” she’d said. “I’m only gonna be gone for about a day, but I want you to look out for me just in case I need something.”
Sallie had immediately grown suspicious.
“Something like what?”
“Something like that safe Gino left with you when we first came out here.”
His heart had pounded. “Right. I’d forgotten about that safe,” he lied. “But hell yeah. Absolutely. It’s right where Gino left it. If you need it just give me a call and I’ll bring it to you. But is everything cool, Juicy? You wanna tell me where you’re going?”
Juicy had hesitated, and when she spoke again her words sounded real shady.
“I need to go check on a friend. It’s all good. I won’t be gone long.”
“Does Renata know you’re going?” Sallie pressed.
“Nah. You know how she can be. I didn’t tell her because I don’t want her to worry. Besides, I’m coming right back. She’ll never even know I left.”
Sallie had nodded as his mind worked to put all the pieces together. “Cool. No problem. Your secret is safe with me. Do you want me to check on your crib and bring in the mail, or maybe you need a ride to the airport or something?”
“Nah, I have an early flight so I’m gonna drive myself. But just in case something comes up, I’ll text you my parking area and leave my keys under the floor mat.”
“No problem. Be careful out there. You know you can count on me, so if there’s anything you need, just give me a call.”
Slick Sallie had taken a taxi to the airport at eight-thirty that morning, and walked over to the area that Juicy had texted to him. The key to her convertible had been right under the floor mat where she said she would leave it, and he had paid the parking fee and driven it right off the airport grounds.
Sallie had come straight home and parked the car behind his mother’s orchard house, and for the last hour he had been sitting there staring at it. He appeared to be calm and deep in thought, but in reality his heart was pounding and his blood was surging with excitement.
It was as if something spiritual had come over him as he thought about the possibilities that had opened up for him. It was almost divine. Like a lucky lottery ticket had fallen into his lap complete with all the winning numbers.
Sallie lit a blunt and took three long puffs. Then he clipped it in an ashtray and forced himself to breathe deeply. Nobody knew Juicy had left town except him. This was his prime opportunity, and he needed to be clear-minded and level headed so he could take full advantage of it. His destiny had just manifested, and there was no way he was gonna let it slide through his fingers. Slick Sallie knew exactly what he had to do. And for the next thirty minutes he sat staring at the sexy green convertible he had stolen from the airport, as he came up with his grand, life-changing plan.
$$$$$
“Yo, man, her car is gone.”
“Niggah what you mean her fuckin’ car is gone?”
“It ain’t there. Me and Zero looked all over the parking lot. Somebody musta took that shit. It’s gone.”
Rabbit shook his head.
“Man, ain’t nobody take that car. Y’all was just lookin’ in the wrong place. You must be at the wrong terminal, stupid ass. Ace said that chick got locked down as soon as she got to New York so I know she ain’t come back here and moved no car. That shit is right where she left it. Go back and look again.”
“I’m telling you,” Izz protested. “That shit ain’t there! We crisscrossed and circled that lot so many fuckin’ times that security musta got suspicious. Cop cars started swinging through left and right and we had to break out ’cause Zero had some powder and two dirty gats on him. But for real, slime, I saw where that bitch parked at. Her shit ain’t there no more. I swear it’s gone.”
“Muthafucka!” Rabbit kicked over a garbage can in his small kitchen. “It’s gotta be there, fool! Y’all niggahs just didn’t look good enough. A’ight. Don’t go back today ’cause security is prolly on the lookout now. Wait ’til tomorrow night when it gets dark outside, then go back and look again. I swear to God, Izz, if I gotta go through there and find that ride myself I’ma slump both of y’all niggahs! Word!”
“A’ight,” Izzy sighed even though he knew what he knew. “We’ll go back out there tomorrow, right after it gets dark.”
CHAPTER 5
Growing up in Harlem I had heard a whole bunch of horrors stories about Rikers but I had never stepped foot on the island before, not even on a visit.
A lot of girls around my way got sent to The Rock for various petty crimes, mostly dealing with selling ass or buying drugs, or occasionally for cutting some niggah with the sharp edge of a beer bottle.
But no matter how scary the jailhouse stories had sounded, they were nothing compared to the Kool-Aid my heart was pumping as the cops led me into the Rose M. Singer Center for women.
“Keep your mouth shut in there,” the male C.O. warned me as he opened the door and pushed me inside. He was a skinny white dude with a patchy red birthmark on his nose. “Don’t offer no extra information, and don’t tell nobody your real name.”
“What?” I was straight confused.
“You carrying?” he asked, stopping me right outside another doorway.
“Huh?” I said dumbly.
“You got anything on you? Knives, needles, anything sharp that’s gonna stick me or hurt me?”
I shook my head. “No. But I got some
money on me.”
His eyebrows shot up. “There’s more? Where?”
I swallowed hard. “All over me.”
He took me into a small room and patted me down in a quick, but thorough manner before taking the cuffs off me. He had been all about the bizz when he told me to spread ’em, but then out of nowhere he told me to strip too.
I didn’t know what was up, but I knew something was shady. I thought he was gonna try to bust a look at my titties or something, but all he did was order me to take off my clothes and remove all the bills that were taped to my body and put them on the table. He even turned his back and gave me the privacy to do it.
“I’m done,” I said when I had finally gotten all the money off me. Most of it was damp from my sweat but he didn’t seem to give a fuck as he took a trash bag out of a small garbage can near the door. He emptied the trash into the naked can, then dumped the money into the trash bag and tied the end in a knot.
“If anybody asks, you’re being detained for transporting,” he told me as he handcuffed me again and led me out of the room. “Not money, but drugs.” He chuckled. “Every fuckin’ body is in here for drugs.”
“But don’t I get a chance to make bail?”
“Nope. You’re not even going before a judge.”
“But hold up, don’t I get to make a phone call?”
“Negative again. No calls and no visitors.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but he shut me right up.
“Listen. You can do this my way or you can do it the hard way, all right? My way? You got no priors. You get a nice private cell complete with the finest protection our hardworking corrections department can provide. In a couple of weeks you’ll be arraigned for carrying a small amount of crack cocaine, and the judge will offer you a ninety-day treatment program and eventually expunge the charge from your record. Simple.