“Yeah, boo, it’s your mind fucking with you ’cause you and him have a connection. You was his ride or die, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his spirit followed yo’ ass back from Jamaica.” She busted out laughing.
I sat there in silence. I knew no one would understand the pain I was in, not because they were not trying, but simply because unless it had happened to them, they couldn’t tell how much it hurt. I felt so lost without my soul mate.
“So, I got something to tell you.”
“What, bitch? This sound serious.” She shot me a strange look.
“I’m moving. I’m leaving Virginia.”
“You’re leaving? Bitch, stop playing.”
“I’m dead-ass serious. I’m thinking about moving down South; maybe Atlanta. I heard houses out there are cheaper. Plus, I plan on opening another shop eventually.”
“When did you come up with this idea?” she asked as she side-eyed me.
“I’ve been thinking about it ever since I got out of the hospital in Jamaica. Mo’, there’s nothing in Richmond for me anymore. Azir is going to live with me soon, and I can’t raise him up here. The streets don’t love them young boys, and I already lost his father. I can’t risk losing my son also.”
“Damn, bitch, you act like I’m not here. I mean, we’re not blood, but I thought we shared something special.”
“Damn, Mo’, this ain’t about you. I need to do this for me. You’ll always be my partner, and we can visit each other. You acting like I’m moving to another continent or some shit like that.”
“Yeah . . . You know what, Sierra? I’ve been patiently waiting for over a year. I stuck by yo’ side through everything. Good or bad, right or wrong. You call, I’m there. Now, you pop up in here, telling me you leaving. Something ain’t right about this shit.”
“And I thought that’s what friends are for, right?” I looked at her for reassurance.
“Sierra, cut the bullshit out. I’m not talking about no friendship.”
“I’m lost. What the hell are you talking about, Mo’?”
“I mean, Sierra, you know I like you more than just your best friend. I want us to be together. I want to be your bitch, and you my bitch. I want a relationship.”
“Bitch, you trippin’. You know I’m not gay, and what you mean you want us to be together?”
“So, I’m good enough to suck on your pussy, but I’m not good enough to be with?”
“Mo’, come on, girl, you trippin’. We did what we did, but I’ve kept it real with you from day one. I could never be with a woman. I love dick too damn much. After I get my pussy ate, I be wanting to be fucked by a man. I don’t know ’bout anybody and how they live their life, but it’s just not for me; not every day anyway. I just can’t do it. Plus, you my best friend.”
“You keep wasting your time on these no-good-ass niggas when I’m right here. I love you, Sierra, and can make you happy. I watched how that nigga dogged you out, and I was there when you was hurting. C’mon, ma.”
“Mo’, I came to you because you my bitch. I never knew you was on some personal shit. Yes, we fucked around, but that’s all it was. I love you as my right-hand bitch, but I’m not in love with you.”
“I feel you. I’m not trippin’. You still my ace, no matter what.”
I saw the look of disappointment plastered across her face. I didn’t mean to say it to hurt her, but I had to keep it one hundred with her. There was no hope of us being together, only because it wasn’t my thing. That would be too much pussy rubbing going on, without any kind of dick in the middle. I’m not a ho, but I love getting fucked by a man.
“Am I? ’Cause you just went off the deep end on me just now. When did you get so strung out on pussy? I know you was bi, but you giving up dick is crazy.”
“Who said I was giving up dick? I just thought since we did everything together, we might as well be together. Like I said, no sweat; you my bitch, and that ain’t gonna change.”
“It better not. I appreciate you being in my life. I don’t know what I would do without you. Me moving to another state doesn’t mean shit. You might even decide to come on down there.”
“Nah, boo, I’m good. I live and breathe Richmond, baby, and I ain’t going nowhere.”
“I hear you, but on some real shit, please be careful out here. Don’t trust these bitches or these niggas.”
“Sierra, these niggas know better. They know who my brothers are. Anything happens to me, trust me, it’s going to be bloodshed all over the city.”
“I’m good; just take care of yourself and know I’m only a phone call away,” I said.
“Bitch, I’m going to miss your crazy ass. Come here let me show you how much.”
Mo’ inched closer to me and started to massage my shoulders. She knew damn well that was my weakness. Before I knew it, our lips were locked together. We kissed passionately for a few minutes. Mo’s hand made its way up under my dress, and she pulled my drawers down. She stuck her finger inside my already-moist pussy. The feeling of her soft hand on my clit sent me into a sexual frenzy.
“No, wait; you forgot you’re at work,” I mumbled.
Mo’ stepped away, closed the blinds, then locked the door. She grabbed my hand and led me into the back office.
“The door is locked, and no one is coming ’til later. Relax and let me please you.”
She pushed me onto the sofa, spread my legs apart, and placed them on her shoulders. That’s when her tongue made contact with my clit. Mo’ had a way of gently licking my clit that drove me insane.
“Oh . . . ooh,” I groaned and moaned.
I used my hand to give her head an extra push into my sweet pussyhole. I tried to rub on her breasts, but I couldn’t focus. She ate my pussy so damn good, I had multiple orgasms; I came all over her face. Until then, I had not realized how backed up I was. I was going through so much that sex was the last thing on my mind, I guess. To clean my pussy juice off her face, I grabbed some paper towels that were nearby and wet them. I wiped myself off, then grabbed my boy shorts.
“Damn, boo, that ass gettin’ fatter.” She slapped me on the butt.
“I don’t know how. I lost a shitload of weight. Most of my clothes falling off me. I need a new wardrobe.”
“Yeah, you might’ve lost weight, but that pussy still fat and juicy.”
“Girl, shut up! You’re too damn wide open. OMG.”
“Sierra, you are an undercover freak, and you are in denial that you love pussy. Not me, I love pussy and dick. Best of both worlds.”
“I’m not undercover anything. You turned me out. I guess you tryin’a have me gone off the head, but no, boo-boo. I love dick. Big, black, thick, juicy dick all up in my pussy,” I teased.
“I got a big black dildo for that ass.”
“Fuck you, bitch! I don’t want no plastic. If I ever want to get fucked, it would be with a real dick with veins.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m not listening to none of that shit you talking ’bout. You are still a newbie. In a few years, you’ll be telling me how much you love pussy.”
“Bitch, bye. I got to go. I need to let Jeanette know my plans.”
“So, you taking Jeanette with you?”
“I mean, I’m about to let her know my plans. If she wants to go, then she can go. It’s cool by me if she don’t want to go.”
“You really think Jeanette going to leave Richmond?”
“I don’t see why not. She ain’t got nobody but me. Like I said, she’s grown.”
“You right, boo.”
“Aye, Mo’, so I want you to run this shop. I mean, we can split the profit. I will still pay to keep it running, but you will be here.”
“Well, you know, I’m fine with that. Most of the customers already think we’re partners anyway.”
I stayed a little while longer so we could discuss business. I was taking most of the money that was in the business account. I knew it was hard starting over, but I was ready to start over fresh an
d get away from all the bad memories this city had brought to my family and me.
Chapter Two
Shayna Jackson
“Jackson, get up! You have an attorney’s visit,” the big black CO bitch yelled into my cell.
I jumped up off my bunk, slipped on my shower shoes, and walked out of my cell. I glanced up at the clock and noticed it was a little past 9:00 a.m. It was a little early for an attorney’s visit, but I was eager to see this fool after the way he clowned the other day in front of the feds.
“Good morning, Miss Jackson.”
I rolled my eyes and sat in the chair across from him at the table in the lawyer-client visitation room.
“It’s early for a visit. You must have some good news for me.”
“Today is the deadline that the feds gave us. The plea will be off the table by 5:00 p.m. today.”
“I told yo’ ass and them that I wasn’t interested in no goddamn deal unless it was me walking out of these fucking doors.”
“Miss Jackson, you’re playing a dangerous game. I’m one of the best at what I do, but you already know that. With that said, I’m letting you know if we don’t accept this plea deal and we go to trial, you’re looking at life imprisonment. You’re charged with some serious crimes, and the feds are very upset that you committed these crimes on their watch.”
“I hired you to defend me, so I don’t give a fuck about the feds’ feelings. They fucking used me and left me for dead. Do your fucking job and get me out of here.”
“As an attorney yourself, you should know it’s not that easy to beat a federal case. I filed some motions on your behalf, so I’m waiting to hear back from them. As your attorney, I suggest that we take the plea deal and ask for leniency. You have a better chance of getting out in little to no time. Your criminal history level is zero, so that plays into how much time you’ll get.”
“Listen to you. This entire conversation is based on me doing time. Not one time did I hear you say when I get off. You have no confidence in this case.”
“Miss Jackson, I’m in this with you 100 percent, but as your attorney, I have to advise you of the worst possible scenario. You’re the boss, so if you want to go to trial, then that’s what we will do.”
I sat quietly for a few minutes. I was playing out in my head all the different ways this case could go. My head was telling me to tell the feds to fuck off, but my heart was telling me to think like an attorney. I knew all too well about plea deals. That was how I got most of my clients off. I knew the feds were trying to make an example out of me, and I wasn’t going to play into that trap.
“Take the deal.”
“What the hell just happened? First, you’re against it; then, out of the blue, you’re telling me to take the deal?”
“Make no misunderstanding. I’m mad as fuck, but I can’t risk going to prison for the rest of my life. They think they have the last laugh, but trust me when I tell you, Shayna Jackson always gets what she wants.”
“Okay . . . I’m going to head on over to the U.S. Attorney’s office. Give me a call this evening, and I’ll let you know where we stand.”
I noticed while we were talking, his eyes kept shifting to my breasts. That thought alone made my pussy jump. It’s been awhile since I had some dick, and I would love to ride him, right here in the office.
“Gotcha. Let me ask you a quick question. Do you ever get hard when you stare at my breasts?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I see the way you stare at my chest and how you look at me with lust in your eyes. C’mon, tell me, does your cock gets hard for me?”
“Miss Jackson, you’re undoubtedly a gorgeous woman, but it’s strictly professional between us.”
“Sure. I’ll be home soon. I would love to see how that cock feels up inside me,” I said while I rubbed his hand and winked at him.
“Have a good day, Mrs. Jackson.”
I smiled at him and watched as he grabbed his briefcase and walked out the door. I know that nigga’s dick was hard, and he had to hurry up out of here.
I walked past the boys’ pod, and those thirsty motherfuckers started hollering and whistling. Boy, I tell you, they’re behaving as if they were not used to a bad bitch. The thirst was real, but they were hollering at the wrong bitch. These bums didn’t have enough money to afford me even on my worst day.
By the time I got back to the cell, all the loud-ass bitches were up. God knew that it killed me every day to be around these low-level bitches. I was especially sick of my bunkie; that ho farted and snored like a fucking man. I never imagined that a woman could be that fucking disgusting. There were nights when I thought of strangling that ho, but I tried hard not to snap ’cause I was trying to go home.
Then there were the bitches that sucked on each other every day. A few days ago, one had the nerve to call herself trying to get with me. It was one of those big, burly, black bitches. I had to shut that ho down fast. Another bitch’s pussy didn’t interest me. Shit, what kind of pleasure would I have gotten out of rubbing pussy with another bitch? Then that bitch had the nerve to catch an attitude; she walked off mumbling something under her breath.
It was a circus in the jail. If you sat around long enough, you’d hear these low-level bitches claim to be bad bitches, drug dealers, and rich bitches. I sat back and smiled; these hoes were fronting, trying to be important. Bullshit—most of these hoes used to cook crack for the dope boys, while others were human mules, transporting drugs from state to state. It was sad because now that their asses were locked up, they couldn’t even afford a lawyer or get a dollar on their books. Bad bitches! More like poor bitches. I need to teach these bitches some game, I thought.
I lay in my cell thinking about my next move . . . Whatever it was, it had to be my best move!
* * *
Six weeks later after pleading guilty, I was standing in front of a cracker judge for sentencing. My guideline was 360–480 months. I whispered a prayer to Daddy, asking him to watch over his baby girl. I needed him more than ever. I know I ain’t did a lot of good in my lifetime, but my daddy did.
The U.S. Attorney stood up and addressed the court. Nothing he said surprised me one bit; however, he did ask for the lower end of my sentencing guideline.
“Mrs. Jackson, do you want to address this court before we move on?”
“No, Your Honor. I ain’t got nothing to say.”
I wasn’t in the mood to kiss their asses. After how the feds used me, then threw me under the bus by locking my ass up, I had little hope in the judicial system, and I didn’t think by me saying a few words, my fate was going to be changed. That cracker already had his mind made up.
“Well, Miss Jackson, I’ve read your case, and I also had a chance to talk to the pretrial officer. The crime of attempted murder that you committed against this young lady was very heinous. You must pay for your actions. I now sentence you to 360 months in a federal facility and five years’ supervised release upon completion of your prison sentence. I order you to undergo mental health counseling while incarcerated,” the old fuck that could barely speak above a whisper said.
Sierra Rogers
This was one of the best days I’d had since all hell broke loose—the sentencing of that wicked bitch that ruined my life. I was mad as hell when I heard they offered her a plea deal. I had no understanding of how this bitch tried to kill me twice and still managed to get a fucking deal.
I lost confidence in the justice system. They took my man away, and now they’re giving this rat-ass bitch a fucking deal so she can come out and become an earth disturber again. I’m not even going to say what I was going to do if our paths ever crossed again; it’s not going to be anything good. That bitch deserves to rot in prison and never walk these streets again.
I walked into the courtroom just in time to hear the U.S. Attorney’s statement. I couldn’t believe that I was sitting in the same room with this evil bitch. Our eyes locked, and she smiled at me. I wish I could’ve g
otten to her because they would’ve been picking her face up off the floor.
The judge then called me up to say something before he sentenced her. My heart was racing. My hands were sweaty. I got up and walked to the front. As I walked past Shayna’s bitch ass, I stared her down with a long, cold stare. I was trying to let this bitch know. She got lucky once again.
I made sure I looked directly at the judge while I spoke. “Your Honor, all I have to say is, Miss Jackson is an evil woman that has a personal vendetta against me. She tried to kill me, not once, but twice, over a man. I’ve never provoked or done anything to harm this woman, but her only intention was to kill me. Your Honor, my life will never be the same; I’ve endured mental and physical pain all because of this woman.” I paused, wiped my tears, then continued.
“I beg the courts, Your Honor, to impose the stiffest sentence on her.”
I felt relieved after I got that out of my system. This was one time I hope the judge will do the right thing.
“Thank you, Miss Rogers. This court will take into consideration all that you’ve been through. You may step down.”
I walked off the stand and looked at that ho. Only this time, her stupid ass wasn’t laughing anymore. She sat there looking like a lost puppy.
“Ms. Jeanette Rogers, you also want to address the court. Please step up.”
“Good morning, Judge, Your Honor. As a mother, I can’t explain the feeling that I felt when Sierra got shot. All I can remember, I knelt down on the ground holding my only child. I remember begging God not to take her away from me. My chest started tightening up on me. I couldn’t breathe. Your Honor, I warned my daughter that something wasn’t right about that woman, but she didn’t listen. What made it even worse, after she shot my child, she laughed; she was happy that she was dying. I beg you, Your Honor, please give her the maximum sentence because she needs to learn a lesson. She needs to not ever walk these streets again. Not ever,” Jeanette pleaded to the judge with tears rolling down her face.
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