I mean, it wasn’t nothing for her to cop four or five pairs of shoes by Jimmy Choo, with the bags to match. And that’s because she’s Wifey. But she said that wasn’t enough, which is why I always got static when I wanted to go out to the strip club or bounce out of town with a couple of my squad members. Kira knew what time it was. And trust me, I paid for it. Because it seemed like every time she found a new phone number stashed away in my car, or found out I had some new chick pregnant, my stash kept getting smaller and smaller. She thought I was stupid, but I knew what time it was too. And she found out later that I knew she knew it. So, it’s all good. Now, all I’m focusing on is trying to find a way to get outta this joint. Watching all these clown-ass niggas in here makes me feel like I’m in a fucking circus. Especially when I hear them beasting about all the shit they had when they was on the bricks, when I know they ain’t had shit.
Most of them crab-ass niggas was either a hot boy, or a watch-out. I mean, come on dawg! Who the fuck wants to keep hearing that bullshit over and over again? Because it damn sho’ ain’t me. So, if this shit don’t stop soon, I’m gon’ have to make an example outta one of these bitch-ass niggas in here. And it might be real soon.
“Yo, Rick,” my cellmate walked up to me and said, “If you going to the chow hall, you better come on now dawg, ’cause niggas is lining up at the gate.”
“Nah, Bossman, I’m straight. I’ma chill out here and eat a Cup-a-Soup or something.”
“A’ight, baby boy,” Bossman replied and then I watched him as he walked outta our cell.
Now, me and him done been cellmates from the day I was put in here. So, he’s the only cat I fucks with . His real name is Leonard Marshall from P-Town, Portsmouth, VA. This nigga used to be the top man in the Brick City Crew. Yeah, them cats use to get plenty of paper, pumping out the greenery.
I heard they had shit going strong for six years until one of his squad members got real careless and sold ten pounds of Silver Haze to an undercover narco. And then when homeboy got cornered in that steel room by himself with them crackers, he cried like a fucking baby which is how shit went up in smoke for them. So, everybody who dealt with that clown directly fell down in the line of fire. And even though Bossman was at the top of the chopping block, he got off easy with a five year sentence. He’ll be out of this joint in four since it’s state time. His homeboy got off with only two pies.
Lucky for him. I just wish I was serving a small-ass bid like that. Having the judge throw a life sentence at me without parole just ain’t sitting right with me. So, something’s got to give. I refuse to sit up in here for the rest of my life. It’s just not going to happen. Not while I’m alive and breathing.
“Last call for chow, if anybody else is going,” an old, white female C.O. yelled out loud, so that the whole block could hear her. But nobody said nothing because the block was empty, except for me.
So, when she said, “All right, I guess this is it,” and started locking up the gate, I jumped up from my bunk and said, “Hey C.O., you think you can take me to medical?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” she told me.
“Why?” I wanted to know.
“Because I don’t work on this floor. I’m just filling in until C.O. Bivens comes back from her lunch break. But I’ll let C.O. Hopkins know, since he’s still on the floor.”
“A’ight,” I said, and she walked off.
Three Days Later
After three fucking days, these slow-ass muthafuckas finally pulled me out of the block so I could go to medical. The two C.O.’s who was escorting me to the clinic was Mr. Hopkins and Ms. Bivens. Mr. Hopkins was a old, hard nose- assed nigga, who thought he could whip every nigga’s ass in this joint, ’cause he used to be a Navy Seal. And since he done been working here for over fifteen years, he tried to throw his weight around a lil’ bit. But I’m here to tell you that homeboy seriously don’t want none of me. Because I’ll bring it to him real hard. And trust me, he ain’t gon’ be ready.
Now I would love to give Ms. Bivens something with her fine ass. Shorty got to be every bit of twenty-five because her skin is flawless. And she looks like she’s Spanish or something, ’cause she’s pretty as a muthafucka. And that ass she got is beautiful. It’s round, plump and ripe like I love it. Even though them uniform pants ain’t giving her no justice. But, guess what? I got eyes like Superman, so I can see it. And not only that, I would give this chick every dime I got on canteen just to see it in the flesh. Oh, but don’t get me wrong, ‘cause I’ll fuck her, too, bad as I want some pussy. A nigga like me is tired of beating his shit in the shower. Shit, I want to run up in some wet pussy real bad. And if Shorty right here wants the job, then she can get hired on the spot.
Now, as soon as I walked in the clinic, Hopkins had Bivens cuff me to the chair because he had to leave and go get another inmate. I guess he figured she’ll be all right alone with me because there was another C.O. in the next room with the doctor.
So I sat back in the chair and leaned my head up against the wall. I mean, even though I was in jail, it felt real good to be out of that little-ass cell block. And I’m thinking that my face must’ve shown it, because the minute I closed my eyes C.O. Bivens said, “What are you here to see the doctor for? Because if you ask me, you don’t look sick at all.”
Now before I answered her, I opened my eyes and gave her one of the most handsomest smiles I could give and said, “It may not look like it, but my throat is sore as hell. And plus, I got a bad headache.”
“You aren’t lying to me now, are you?” she asked as she cracked a smile.
“Nah, Ma. I ain’t lying to you.”
“My name is Bivens, not Ma.”
“Oh, damn! My bad,” I apologized, hoping that it’ll get her to open up a little bit more to me. And guess what? It worked. Because the next thing she said was, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, go ’head.”
“How come you don’t get any visits?”
“What, you got me under a microscope?”
She giggled a little bit and then she replied, “Call it what you want. But remember, I work here, so I know everything.”
“Yeah, except for why I don’t get no visits.”
She smiled at me again and said, “But I will if you tell me.”
Gosh Almighty! I can’t believe I got Shorty talking her ass off to me. Plus, I’m getting her to smile every time I make a comment. Now, how sweet is that? But, it can get even sweeter if she would let me take her phat ass in one of these closets so I can fuck the hell out of her. Boy, I can picture it now, having that red, juicy ass bent over, playing tug-a-war with her pussy wrapped around my dick. She wouldn’t know what hit her after I’m done tagging her.
Oh and she can get it in the butt hole, too. It don’t matter to me, just as long as I get my nut off. But anyway, I went on and answered her question by saying, “The reason why I don’t get no visits is because I don’t have anybody on the outside I want to see.”
“But aren’t you married?”
“Yeah.”
“So, why don’t you want to see your wife?”
“Because we ain’t together no more.”
“But you’re still married, though.”
“I know. But right now we’re separated.”
“Do y’all have kids together?”
“Nope. We sho’ don’t.”
“Well, I know it’s got to be hard on you,” she commented like she was concerned.
“Nope. Not really. I mean, you can’t miss nothin’ you ain’t really have.”
“So, how are you dealing with the time they gave you?”
“I just don’t think about it. But I got my lawyer working on my appeal though,” I lied.
“Well, that’s good. I wish you the best of luck.”
“I don’t need luck. I just need to keep feeding my lawyer his dough so he can do what he do best. And a good woman to stay on top of him,” I replied, trying to give her a hint.
“Well, finding a good woman shouldn’t be that hard. All you have to do is have one of your cell buddies back there to hook you up with a pen-pal.”
“Nah. I ain’t trying to find a woman that way. Keeping them cats back in the block out of my business is top priority for me.”
“Well, how can that be when almost everybody in the jail knows who you are?”
“Yeah, they think they know who I am because the Feds said that I was the head nigga in my organization and that I supplied damn near the whole East coast with coke. And that I generated over fifty million dollars in an eight year period. But, I’m here to tell you that most of that shit is a lie.”
“Well, what about the murders?”
“What about ’em?”
“Did you really order those people to be killed?”
“Hell nah!” I replied, lying my ass off. And then I sucked my teeth like I couldn’t believe she asked me that shit. “My right hand man ordered that hit.”
“Did you know about it?”
“Damn! You sho’ asking a lot of questions like you the police or something. But nah, I ain’t know about it until after it happened.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” she said all apologetic and shit!
But I realized she ain’t doing nothin’ but acting like a typical woman. Wanna know every damn thing. So I smiled at her and said, “You a’ight! But now since you know all my business you got to tell me if you got a man or not?”
“I can’t tell you anything about my personal life,” she replied in a sassy, but hard-to-get type of way. But I knew deep down inside she wanna tell me for-real. So, I came back on her and said, “Well, that’s cool. But, just know this…”
“What?” she asked trying real hard not to crack a smile.
“That if you need anything don’t ever hesitate to tell me.”
“And what could you possibly do for me?” she asked me sounding eager like a muthafucka’.
I laid my pimp shit down and told her, “For one, I can pay all your bills. I can keep you in one of them all-day spas every week. And if you act right, I could replace that little joint on your finger with something icier.”
“Now, what’s wrong with my ring?” she asked me like I had just embarrassed her.
I told her, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it. I just feel like you deserve to be wearing something bigger. I mean, ’cause first of all, if you was my biddy, you wouldn’t be working here around all these niggas. It’s too dangerous. And not only that, I know these crackers ain’t paying you no more than $11 to $12 an hour. And that’s pennies.”
“I make more than that,” she spoke up and said it like she was getting on the defensive, which is why I know she’s lying. But, I’ma let her ride that pipe dream if she wants to.
So anyway, right before I was getting ready to throw another piece of bait at her, the fucking doctor brought his gay-looking ass from out of his office and asked Bivens to escort me in there. So right when she leaned over to uncuff me from the chair, I whispered to her and asked her was she gon’ think about what I said? And that’s when she told me that she’ll think about it, which is all good, because whether she knows it or not, she just took that bait off my hook. So, it ain’t gon’ be too much longer before I’ll be able to pull that ass in. And trust me, I’ma handle it when I do.
Now my visit with that fake-ass doctor only took about five minutes and then he booted my ass right on out of there with a cup of salt water and two fucking Tylenols.
But what’s so crazy about it is that the muthafucka’ charged me ten dollars for it. Now, that’s straight gangsta for a nigga’s ass.
***
As soon as I got back in the cellblock, I got a hold to one of the phones, ’cause I needed to make some connections on the outside. I called my baby mama Frances first because she got three-way and plus I wanted to see if she was home so I could talk to my likkle pickney. After I sat back and waited for a few, I heard Frances pick up the phone and say hello. I got happy as hell. I mean, because it’s been about a month and a half since I got a phone call through to this chick. Her trifling ass ain’t never home. I be wondering where my daughter be sometimes, ’cause I know she ain’t always with her mama.
“Hello,” she said like she was anxious.
“Yo, Frances! What’s good?” I asked her.
“Ricky, I’m so glad you called me,” she commented.
“Wass up?”
“I just want to let you know that I had to beat your wife’s ass a couple of days ago.”
“Who? Kira?”
“Yeah. That bitch!”
“What happened?”
“Well, you know I ain’t seen her nothing but one time since you been locked up. So right before I ran into her day before yesterday, I saw one of my home girl’s named Freda at the club about two weeks ago, and she told me that she seen Kira walking out of the FBI building not too long before they picked you up.”
“How did she know it was Kira?” That’s what I wanted to know because hearing Frances tell me that my wife got caught by one of her friends coming out of the Fed building ain’t nothing nobody wanna assume. This is some serious shit! So I stood still and waited for her to answer me, while my heart did a ball fifty.
“Ricky,” she started off saying, “Freda, knows how Kira looks. And plus, she even described her to me.”
“Nah, man. That can’t be,” was all I could say, because my heart wouldn’t let me believe that Kira would go down to the FBI building without telling me.
“Well, believe it because it true. And don’t get mad when I say I told you so.”
“Told me what?” I snapped because I was getting frustrated with the thought of Kira going behind my back, talking to them crackers.
“That your bitch wasn’t shit! That’s what!”
“Tell me where you beat her ass?” I skipped straight to the point.
“When I saw her at the Taco Bell out Virginia Beach a couple days ago.”
“What happened?”
“Well, right after the people gave me my food, I turned around to leave and that’s when I saw her standing at the door. So I walked up to her and she gon’ have the nerve to speak to me. And that’s when I said, ‘Don’t speak to me you fucking snitch!’ So she tried to get all loud with me, talking about I better get out of her face or she gon’ whip my ass. But when I got in her face more, she gon’ tell me that she ain’t got time for me and walked out the place. So, I walked right behind her and told her that I was going to tell you what she did.”
“And what did she say?”
“You know she tried to deny it. But I told her that she was a fucking liar because Freda works right across the street from the FBI Building, and she saw her. So after I told her that, she got loud with me again, talking about she’s tired of my mouth and the reason why she didn’t kick my ass a long time ago was because you told her not to.”
“That’s a lie. I didn’t tell her no shit like that!”
“Well, that’s what she said. And then she kept running her mouth about how she ain’t never like Fredrica. Talking about how fucking grown she was, and that the only reason why she bothered to look after her sometimes was done on the strength of you.”
“Oh, so that’s what she said, huh?” I asked in a calm way. But I was mad as a muthafucka.
“Yep. She sho’ did. That’s why I eased up on her and stung her ass real good. And then she gon’ come back on me with a lame ass punch. So when she saw that it didn’t do anything to me, she grabbed me and got me down on somebody’s car. And that’s when I went off on her ass. I was fucking her up. And all she could do was hold me down, with her weak ass.”
“Who broke the fight up?”
“My friend did when somebody said that the police was coming.”
“And what did Kira do?”
“I don’t know what she did, ‘cause I hauled ass. I got a warrant.”
“For what this time?”
“Failure to appe
ar.”
“On what?”
“On a boosting charge I got right after you got locked up.”
“Girl, you need to chill out.”
“I’m chilling. So you ain’t got to worry about me.”
“I’m worried about my daughter.”
“Oh, she a’ight.”
“Where is she anyway?”
“At my mama’s house.”
“Damn, man. I wanted to talk to her.”
“Well, she’ll be back later on this evening.”
“A’ight. Well, do me a favor?”
“Wass up?”
“You still got three-way, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, call Kira’s shop for me. And if she don’t answer the phone, ask for her. But act like you’re trying to make a hair appointment. And when she gets on the phone, don’t say nothing. Just be quiet and let me talk.”
“A’ight,” Frances said and then she sucked her teeth like she wasn’t too happy about what I had just told her to do. But she let it go and did it anyway.
The Jump Off
“Millennium Styles,” I heard some chick say when she answered the phone. And since Frances knew it wasn’t Kira, she asked to speak to her. The chick told her to hold on and that’s when I heard her yell Kira’s name, telling her she had some lady on the phone that wants to talk to her. Now, it took Kira ’bout five minutes to get her ass on the phone, but she made it before my twenty-five minute call was up.
I'm Still Wifey Page 3