Red eased closer to admire the beautiful car. Red later learned her proximity had signaled the silent remote car alarm that Bacon carried on his key chain. The thought of someone up on his car had made him leave his plate of fried chicken and dash to the parking lot.
Red’s mind had begun to calculate as she stood at the crown-shaped hood ornament. She had always wanted to shine. She figured being a dime piece, that was her rightful position. She decided then and there that whoever drove that whip had to be a King and she needed to be his Queen sitting next to him on a throne.
The girls didn’t detect Bacon’s approach and they were startled when he spoke.
“Why you putting your prints on my ride?” Bacon joked.
“Oh, I’m s-sorry,” Red stammered as she stepped backward.
Admiring her backside, Bacon thought twice and said, “Nah, you good. I like that shirt.”
Red had wanted to say thank you, but Bacon’s presence had taken the words right out of her mouth.
Terry spoke up for her speechless friend. “She says thank you.” Terry leaned to whisper in Red’s ear, hoping to help snap her out of her daze. “Come on, girl. Let’s get something to eat.”
Bacon had seen her tense up as he walked closer. “Don’t be afraid, baby. I won’t bite you.”
Red walked away and Terry followed. Bacon walked up behind the ladies into the restaurant and told the cashier to add their check to his bill. “Will you join me?” he asked them.
“Yes,” Terry replied.
From that day forward, it was Bacon and Red against the world. Bacon took a wounded bird and gave her the confidence to fly again. Certainly it was not the I-can’t-eat-can’t-sleep-without-you love. It was companionship.
“Baby, you fucked with a busta. I’m a hustler and I know how to handle my woman. See, baby, success is a man’s ego and a woman’s sentiment. I need you by my side and all you got to do is be who you are. I know you’re overworked and underappreciated. Bacon will appreciate you, baby,” he said, trying to ease her fear that history would repeat itself.
Bacon made it so easy for Red to move on. There were times when she wanted to trust him, but he was a man, and that meant kill or be killed, so she always kept her guard up. Two years flew by and Red was Bacon’s woman. It was so easy for her not to love him, though. He loved her enough for the both of them.
The screeching of a car parking beside her brought Red out of her daydream. Fuck Bacon, she thought. She checked her wallet to make certain her real identification was in place. Then she took out her dummy ID and placed it in the glove compartment; it was a crime to be caught with two IDs with different names.
Next, she began to rehearse the way she would handle Bacon’s inquiries. She was supposed to visit him weeks ago, but she had managed to put it off. She didn’t want to fuck his head up too bad and get tossed the fuck out his crib. She wanted to leave it on her terms.
“ ‘Bacon, I need some money,’ ” Red said aloud. “No, that won’t work.” Red placed her finger to her lips to think and then said even louder, “ ‘Bacon, I caught a case and need some money.’ Nah, stupid him will just hire me a lawyer.” Next she flipped the visor down and peered at herself in the driver’s mirror.
“ ‘Bacon, I want to have your baby.’ ” Red laughed out loud on that one. She arranged her face into a sullen look and whispered, “ ‘Bacon, I just can’t take you being away anymore.’ Yeah, that’s how I’ll start it.”
She flipped the visor back up, unlatched her seat belt, turned off the engine and exited the vehicle. Crossing the pebble-covered parking lot in her white Dolce & Gabbana pointy-toed pumps was a task. She was cautious to avoid getting them dirty. Approaching the tan brick building encircled by barbwire fencing, she could see groups of prisoners walking in the yard, looking outside, wishing they could be free. It reminded Red of being in a cage, unable to leave, like when she was a kid in her own home. Her empathy quickly turned into anger as she muttered, “This is some bullshit.”
CHAPTER 11
As Soon as I Get Home
Entering the prison was like stepping into a thundercloud. The sunny sky no longer existed. Red made her way through the check-in line and her stomach began to turn as the smell of human funk became more and more potent. How can anyone live like this? she thought.
First, she was on the list, then when she got to the second checkpoint, she wasn’t. Finally, they let her through. The whole point of coming early was to avoid all the drama, but instead it seemed like it just made her an easier target for the bullshit. Red’s mood was fucked up.
Red sat at the square table, tapping her sculptured nails on the plastic top. She paused a moment and checked the time on her diamond-studded Chopard watch to make sure the visit was starting soon. This muthafucka better come the fuck on, she thought.
Bacon busted through the double doors all smiles. His skin glowed and his body was tight as hell. Red could see how he spent his time—working out.
He walked up to Red as she stood to embrace him. Bacon snaked his tongue in and out of Red’s mouth and groped her so hard, she actually started to enjoy it. “Whew! Now that’s a hello.” Red smiled as she took his hand.
“Red, you look good.” He took a step back to soak every inch of her in.
“You, too.” She giggled, taking a seat. His gaze was making her uneasy. She could see the love he had for her in his eyes and the guilt of not loving him back and seeing him locked up like some damn animal was starting to melt her ice-cold heart.
Bacon scooted close to her. “So, what’s up? You went to jail?”
“Yeah. It’s bullshit.”
“No, what’s up?”
“I got into it with some girls at the beauty salon and they tried to jump me as I went to my car.”
“What? Who?”
“Some of those bitches you fucked with. I’m up under the hair dryer and they poppin’ shit about you.”
Red was the master of provoking the other person into getting mad. Bacon couldn’t really say shit because it was very possible.
“What salon was you at?”
“Vanities. You know, the twenty-four-hour spot over on Michigan Avenue.”
“Okay, so what happened?”
“Nothing. We did our yelling back and forth and shit, and the salon owner called the cops.”
“And?”
“And when they got there, they had a warrant for my arrest for an outstanding parking ticket and it didn’t help I had a suspended license. Keep in mind, this was on a Friday night, so I had to stay in jail over the weekend. Then when Monday came, it was some holiday, President’s Day or something, so I was out for a minute before court.
“When I did go to court, they gave me thirty days for driving with a suspended license. It was that or let the disorderly conduct stick, so they laid me down for thirty days. I couldn’t write you. But, instead of you thinking of me, you stressing me and there I was suffering over some bullshit, like you. Three hots and a fucking cot. Can I live?”
“So who be answering the phone when I call the house? I swear to God it sounds just like you.”
“No, Sherlock. That’s Sasha, you know, Catfish’s woman.”
“What the fuck she doing there?”
“Bacon, don’t even start. Yeah, you busted your ass on the street, but nigga, I’m out there on my own trying to make ends meet.”
“You know I left you with some dough. The house is paid for. Fuck you talkin’ about? I thought you was working.”
“I am, but shit, business is slow now. And you know a bitch needs to feed and clothe herself, not to mention pay the bills. Whatever.” She sucked her teeth and turned away from him for dramatic effect.
“You out of money?”
“Almost,” she whispered.
“Whatever, Red.” It was going to take a little longer for Bacon to believe her story.
“Anyway, I’m helping Sasha out on the strength of you. I mean, Catfish is your dog and everything, so wha
t was I supposed to do when she came to the house crying and shit about how they were losing the loft?”
“What? They losing the loft? That’s bullshit! Red, don’t be falling for some sucka shit.”
“Look, you make the call. I’ll bounce that bitch right out the door the minute I get back to the crib if you think she bullshittin’. You think I want a roommate?”
“Nah, don’t do that. Let me check something out first.”
“Whatever. Just let me know. Since I ain’t kicked it with you, all sorts of shit is breaking loose on the streets. That’s why it’s taken me so long to come visit you. I’m sick of that shit. And the house? Please. The place is Grand Central Station. We once rested our heads in peace, but since you left, it seems like there is a gigantic flashing Vacancy sign pointing to the front door.”
“I told you not to bring your peeps around. You ain’t learned nothing from me. Red, you can’t move a house that easy, that’s why you don’t let muthafuckas know where you rest your head in the first place.”
“I know, I know. I just got lonely, missing you, and invited Terry over. But shit, she invited Kera and then they would get rides to the house. You know how them walking bitches be.”
Bacon shook his head. All that he tried to make waterproof was starting to leak. He saw Red breaking before his eyes and didn’t know what to do. “I know you get lonely. Shit, how you think I feel up in this muthafucka? I lay in my bunk every night thinking about us.”
“Bacon, I just miss you so much you don’t even know. Remember when it was just me and you? I was Bonnie to your Clyde,” Red said, smiling. Her smile always killed Bacon. She managed to shed a tear.
Bacon wiped the tear as it trickled down her cheek. “It’s gon’ be okay, baby. My lawyer’s working on my appeal.”
“Appeal? What is that?” Red knew, but she was playing dumb.
“You know they got me for murder, not for doing what I do,” he said, looking around for nosy ears.
Bacon had been making a routine stop by the spot of his oldest customer, Ronny Ray, an old-school businessman. He owned a barbershop that still had its original pole out front, classic barber’s chairs and potted plants in the window that had been dead for about ten years. He spent most of his time talking to his clients—former pimps and hustlers—who never actually got haircuts but spent time and money there in other ways. Ronny Ray ran numbers, and threw the occasional c-lo dice game in the basement. But his biggest money-making scheme was renting out his hidden back office to young hustlers so they could sell drugs and hold meetings.
When Bacon first started up, he would frequently use Ronny Ray’s services. After he outgrew the barbershop, he would stop by to chat it up with the old men, play a game of dominoes and hit Ronny Ray with his personal stash of weed. This one particular night he rolled by to drop off some food for the old man.
Just as he got there, a fight broke out between two dealers, Catfish and Landu. After the mayhem, Ronny Ray and two other men lay dead. The shooter escaped out the back just as the police arrived and Bacon was pinned with the murder weapon, which had landed by his feet. Luckily, he had no money or drugs on him, but the police didn’t care. He was a black man at the scene of a crime with blood on his clothes and a weapon nearby. That was all they needed to throw him away.
“Red, I’m waiting for the results of this thing called a DNA test. That’s where the rest of the money went. I had to get a new lawyer, pay him, then he suggested we hire a private investigator, and request an independent test. My lawyer said the DNA could set me free. I could be home by the end of the year.”
Red’s mind recalled the judge’s words: “Isadore Jefferies, you are sentenced to twenty years.”
“Home . . . really? Daddy, I need you home.” Red reached over and hugged him.
“I need to be home.” Bacon kissed her on her forehead.
Surprisingly, the visit was going better than Red expected, not nearly the amount of stress that she had anticipated. They even managed to joke and laugh.
“So, Bacon, what’s good up in there? I see you been pumpin’ iron.”
“I look good, don’t I?” Bacon flexed his bicep.
“Yeah, Daddy, you look good.”
“But check this out. I been writing.”
“Yeah, I know. I got the letter.” They both grinned at each other.
“No, seriously, I wrote a book and I want you to help me get it published.”
“What? You wrote a book, as in a novel?”
“Yes. I had a lot of shit to get off my chest. The shit is fire.”
“Can’t wait to read it. Tell me about it.”
“It’s all about those who didn’t stay true to da game. You know, in here I see and I hear everything.”
“Yeah, the penal grapevine.”
“Well, the penal grapevine says they heard you was pregnant?”
“Do I look pregnant?”
“Depends on how far along you are.”
“No, nigga. Your grapevine is sour grapes. I’m not pregnant. Who told that lie?”
“Ain’t important if it ain’t true. I know you gon’ fuck, and I ain’t trying to hear about that, either. But be decent, Red.” Bacon looked at her closely to check for a lie.
“The truth don’t need no defending.”
“Don’t defend it then if it ain’t true.”
“I’m not gon’ defend that, but Bacon, what am I supposed to do for the next twenty years?”
“I told you, I’m coming home. You can’t hold me down until then? You can’t wait until the end of the year to see how this goes, then decide what you want to do on a personal note?”
“Yeah, I’m here. I ain’t going nowhere,” Red lied.
“There’s a publishing company, and all they do is put out street fiction. They call themselves Triple Crown Publications. I want you to have this book typed, and send it to them. Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah, just send me the pages and the information and I will handle it.”
“Red, I got a feeling this book is it for me.”
“What’s the name of the book? What you calling it?” Red asked, uninterested.
“Bitch Nigga, Snitch Nigga.”
“What?”
“Bitch Nigga, Snitch Nigga. And I don’t want nobody to know I wrote it. We got to keep this between me and you, ’cause the shit I reveal in this book, I shoulda took it to my grave.”
Red’s ears perked up and in her mind she saw dollar signs. She knew that Bacon knew a ton of shit. If he wrote about all that dirt, then she believed the book would be a bestseller. Maybe he could pull a rabbit out of his hat again and be the cash cow he’d always been in the past.
“Go to the ladies’ bathroom,” Bacon ordered. He gave her a penetrating gaze as if he could see through her.
“What?” Red asked, not catching on.
“Go to the ladies’ bathroom,” Bacon whispered again. This time she understood.
Red was reluctant. She wasn’t trying to be in a bathroom with Bacon. She wasn’t sure if the nigga had turned into a homo thug or not. She didn’t know if he was taking it up the ass or giving it up the ass, or who was tossing his salad or deep-throating him at night. Red was wise enough to not put anything past anyone.
Fuck, she thought as she walked to the restroom area. Red stood inside the last of the three stalls, tapping her foot and impatiently looking at her watch. She hoped like hell something would go wrong with Bacon’s plan. After a minute or two, she heard the door open and footsteps enter.
“Red.” Bacon’s voice called to her.
Red kept quiet, hoping he would go away.
“Red,” Bacon called again. He pushed open stall number one, then pushed stall number two. “Red!” He pushed on stall number three and met resistance.
Red kept silent as Bacon began to knock and push harder.
“Red!” Bacon jiggled the door handle as he peeked through the crevice to see who was in the locked stall.
“Red!” he said even louder this time.
Red slid the lock to the right and opened the door. She plastered a smile on her face, faking excitement. She knew what Bacon had come for—sex.
She had to pick the lesser of the two evils: suck his dick or let him stick it in. The thought of him having sex with men in prison made Red very, very hesitant about wanting him to put his dick inside her. She wasn’t on that AIDS shit.
Bacon began tugging at Red’s pants, making his choice apparent. He sensed her unwillingness. “Come on, baby. We ain’t got much time.”
“Bacon, what if we get caught? I’m scared.”
Red hoped her words would change his mind, but what difference did it make to a man who had already been locked down for two years when he had good and familiar pussy within his grasp? He wanted some booty and was willing to go to the hole to get it.
“Don’t be scared. The guard gave me some time. Stop playing.”
Bacon undid the zipper of her slacks, revealing her G-string. He turned Red around, admiring her ass cheeks before spreading them apart. He groped her ass hard and Red felt his tongue penetrating her asshole. She gripped the back of the commode with both hands. Bacon rammed his thick dick into her somewhat dry pussy. He began to hump furiously, moving in and out with powerful thrusts. Bacon moaned aloud as they began to rock. For Red, there was more pain than pleasure as she was still raw from sexing Q earlier and she was not aroused. For Bacon, he was home again, in his bed, getting right.
Before Red could warn, “Don’t come inside me,” she felt Bacon’s dick jerking inside of her pussy. A little trickle of cum ran down her leg as he disengaged from her body. Bacon quickly did up his khakis and Red began to pull herself and her clothes back together.
“Okay, you go back out first, then I’ll come behind you,” Bacon instructed.
Red walked over to the sink to check herself. Her left leg was sticking to her slacks as she felt the cum on the inside of her pant leg.
Bacon had involved her in the unthinkable: a private act in a public bathroom. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, Red straightened herself up, unstuck her pant leg and put on her game face. Her mind went back to the book he said he wrote, Bitch Nigga, Snitch Nigga.
The Dirty Red Series Page 9