Regina couldn’t wait until daybreak. No sooner than she dropped her kids off at daycare, she was on a mission. The angry sibling made it her business to go seek Mario out. After several drive-bys, the front blinds were finally open, indicating the late-night hood hustler was finally awake. Regina had caught him at the house, and now she wanted answers.
Irate, she questioned her brother-in-law about what she knew to be true. No doubt he lied and lied and lied. He claimed he’d been dropped off the night before and left Sasha’s SUV parked at his boy’s crib because he had been drinking and didn’t want to drive. Regina knew her brother-in-law was full of it, but she had no concrete face-to-face facts to stand on, just Kat’s secondhand info.
After warning Mario that she’d be checking in on her sister’s house from time to time, she stormed onto the porch. Still exhausted from shooting dice until almost five in the morning, he shrugged his shoulders as Sasha’s sister drove off.
Always in beast mode when it came to females only, Mario’s first thought was to tell Regina, Kat, and whoever the fuck else to stay out of his damn business. He was grown and did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. However, he knew the nosey pair of women had the direct pipeline to his wife. If they were to go back running off at the mouth to Sasha, the inmate, already irritated with him, could easily arrange for her sister or aged parents to take over her business affairs. That would definitely include her bank savings accounts that received the monthly deposit from the lawsuit settlement. If Mario was to lose that, he’d not be able to maintain the bullshit lifestyle he’d grown accustomed to.
In the days to come, he managed to keep the SUV out of Regina’s sight until the damage to the door was fixed and the vehicle was detailed. As for the holes, Sasha knew he smoked weed so he would say he’d done it by mistake if it was to ever come up. Nevertheless, Mario was chill knowing he had at least a year to cross that bridge before his loyal wife saw the SUV or freedom again.
* * *
“You have a call from Sasha, an inmate at the Michigan Department of Corrections. If you feel that this call is harassing in nature or unwanted, please press one. In order to accept calls from an inmate at the Michigan Department of Corrections, press two.”
Mario was good and high off of half a blunt he’d smoked. A huge, goofy smile graced his face while he held the phone close to his ear. In spite of all of the reckless things he’d done since his wife had been locked up, he was still overjoyed to hear her voice. The last few times they’d spoken, Sasha was not giving him a break. Rightfully so, inmate 998797 made him feel guilty and like the piece of rotten shit human being he was for letting her take the fall. Quickly pressing the number two on his keypad, the pair was finally connected.
“Hello.”
“Yeah, hello, Sasha? Is that you? What up, doe?”
“Yeah, it’s me. What’s going on?”
“Nothing much, girl. Just been lying back in the crib, that’s all.” Mario paused, trying to see if he could sense any strange vibe in her voice that indicated she knew he was lying. “I was just thinking about you and my seed. Are y’all okay up there? I called down to the county and they said you’d been transferred. How was the ride out? Are you still pissed with a nigga or what?”
“Naw, I’m not angry anymore. I made the decision to do what I did; so be it. But, umm, umm, well, I need to talk to you and I know I don’t have long. The operator said fifteen minutes so I guess that’s what it is.”
Mario had been leaning back on the couch, but now he sat straight up. He had done enough time behind bars to know how fast those minutes would fly by. So he gave Sasha her time to get off her chest whatever it was she wanted before the call was terminated. “Go ahead, baby. Tell me what’s going on. I’m listening.”
Sasha was still weak. Her mindset felt out of sorts. The penitentiary aspirin she’d taken had zero affect on the pain and discomfort she was feeling. Wanting nothing more than to return to her cell and get some rest, Sasha, swiftly becoming depressed, fought back the tears. Having just decided that she had to develop a thicker skin to survive her two-year hiatus in hell, she heard Mario’s voice and, just like that, her game plan was done. She began to fall completely apart. “Listen, Mario, I don’t know what happened. Maybe I was stressed out. Maybe I was worried and didn’t get enough rest. I don’t know. The doctors said—”
“The doctors? What you mean doctors? What the fuck you talking about, Sasha?” Mario cut her off midsentence with a barrage of questions.
It didn’t take Sasha long to break all the way down. “Mario”—her voice cracked as she spoke—“I lost the baby.”
“Hold up. What you just say?” He stood, thinking he must have heard his wife wrong. Pacing back and forth from the living room to the dining room, the dining room to the kitchen, and the kitchen out onto the front porch, Mario grew agitated.
Sasha lowered her head. She prayed none of the other inmates would notice her dropping tears. It was bad enough she had passed out, but now she was determined to go hard. “I know you hurt, I guess. But God knows best. Maybe He didn’t want my child being born behind bars like some caged animal. Maybe He felt like we wouldn’t make good parents.”
“Naw, bitch. Don’t run that God bullshit on me. God ain’t do that shit. Your janky ass probably did,” Mario taunted, searching his pocket for a lighter. “The last time your dumb ass talked to me you was blowing that crazy shit out your dental, acting like I got you locked up.”
“What?” Sasha paused, getting just as heated as her husband had become. “I know I didn’t just tell you I lost our baby and you blaming me.”
“And what? Who the fuck else I’m gonna blame?” Mario lit a Newport, taking a long pull. “You supposed to be the damn vessel for my seed and you done messed around and fucked that up. Thanks a lot, bitch.”
At this point in the once private conversation, Sasha came totally out of her bag. Her voice grew louder with each passing word. The other inmates, as well as the guards, were now ear hustling whether they wanted to or not. The incarcerated, once pregnant female had lost the one thing that was giving her any small amount of hope the day before, and she definitely was not in the mood for Mario’s judgments.
“Listen, you ho-ass piece of shit motherfucker. You got this game and me all the way twisted. I’m posted up in here doing this time because of your no-good black ass. I stood up tall because you was too weak to be a man. If you would’ve had any type of balls it wouldn’t be no way in hell you’d let your pregnant wife be up in this stanking place.”
“Yo, Sasha, who in the fuck you talking to like that? You must have lost a lot of blood in your brain or something.”
Sasha didn’t care who was listening, looking, or concerned. She heard the “one minute left” warning speech on the phone and she went all the way in for the kill. “What you mean who the fuck I’m talking to like that? You, nigga, that’s who. Remember you out there in them streets living because of me. Did you forget? That’s my house, my SUV, my jewelry, and my money you spending. And you better put some money on my books before you be homeless and hungry. I pay them bills and put food in the house whether you nickel hustling or not. I swear on everything that . . . Hello? Hello? Hello?”
The inmates and the guards knew the new inmate had run out of time on her call, but they watched her still say hello several more times before she angrily slammed the receiver down.
“Hey, Eubanks, take it easy over there. That’s prison property you trying to destroy.” The second-shift guard would have written any other prisoners up, but he knew 998797 had just suffered a huge blow and was not thinking clearly. “Why don’t you just go back to your bunk for a little while and get it together?”
Sasha gladly took his suggestion and did just that. Falling back onto the thin mattress, she locked her fingers behind her head. Staring up at the bright fluorescent lights, she closed her eyes, wishing she were anywhere but prison. In a matter of minutes, a few of the females who had been in the d
ayroom listening to her conversation interrupted, introducing themselves.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Angela Vega, known around the way as Angie V, was just getting to work. After spending practically all night in the emergency room with her small daughter, the youngest of three, she was exhausted. A single mother, she was forced to be the substitute father when all of her “baby daddies” chose to abandon her and their seeds. Pro-life in belief, she didn’t believe in abortions. So if she was careless enough to get knocked up, she’d be woman enough to stand up, no matter what the circumstances were.
Sadly Angela Vega learned that harsh lesson and her right to life belief was tested early on. Once the academic head of her graduating class, Angie V didn’t quite remember what exactly sidetracked her from her studies. One minute she was taking math and English tests and window-shopping for the perfect but affordable prom dress. Suddenly out of nowhere her young life was turned upside down.
Asked to help out on a special literacy project, the dedicated teen stayed after school on a few occasions later than the other participants. The next thing the virgin teacher’s pet knew was that she was spread-eagled in the back of an empty classroom, both hands gripping the sides of a desk, with the principal’s dick buried deep inside her womb from the rear. They both enjoyed the scandalous deed for weeks until they were discovered by the janitor. Having no morals, the janitor stood, broom in hand, bargaining that if sweet-faced Angela Vega didn’t suck him off, he’d rat them out. Repulsed by the thought, she refused, even at the urging of the grimy-intentioned principal who didn’t want to run the risk of losing his job, family, and possibly freedom.
Angie V knew she was dead wrong for banging a much older man, one married at that. However, no matter how book smart she may have been, her family’s financial situation was shitty to say the least. Besides the mature sex he was blessing her with, gifts and money were major draws. For the first time since starting high school she was able to walk into a store and buy any dress or pair of sneakers she wanted.
She was caught all the way up, but it wasn’t worth the fallout. Exposed to the vice principal, teachers on staff, students, and parents, Angela Vega was shunned and ridiculed, and her name was dragged through the mud. She was forced to leave school days after the local news caught wind of the story. Some said it was the educator’s rightfully bitter wife, while some said it was a jealous student he was rumored to also be having relations with. Nevertheless, without enough credits to graduate, Angie was left with no school to attend in the district.
To make matters even worse, when the teen discovered she was knocked up by the married man, he opted to commit suicide, leaving her all alone to abort or have their illicit love child. The choice was hers. Angie V’s oldest was born seven months later, prematurely.
Walmart’s oversized parking lot was full when Angie V drove up in her late-model struggle buggy. That along with the fact that it was the third of the month was proof enough that this extra shift she was voluntarily working would be long. Like most single mothers she was barely making ends meet and did whatever, whenever, for the sake of her children.
Annoyed that her smock wasn’t where she’d left it hanging the evening before, she finally located the blue and yellow vest. Slipping it on, she took a deep breath, then exhaled. Punching her employee code in the time clock, she was ready to start her shift. Dragging her weary body down the stairs, Angie V placed her cell on vibrate and tucked it deep down into her rear pocket. The managers frowned on employees using their phones during working hours, but Angie V had to ensure the young girl who babysat for her could get in touch if need be.
“Ms. Vega, you are on the self-service aisle today. I know you are used to ringing straight out on the register, but today is your lucky day. We need help down on this end.”
Angela thanked the front end manager. She was tired from being at the hospital and up the night before with her sick child, and welcomed the slower-paced job detail. Time seemed to drag by, although in reality it had been three hours of the six-hour shift she’d volunteered for. Just as she reached in her back pocket to get out her cell on the sly, Angie V was met with an extremely confused customer. Approaching him, she immediately took notice he was holding an armful of items that could only feed a family of one. “Do you need some help?”
“Yeah, hell yeah.” Mario had just about given up on purchasing the bottle of raspberry lemonade, bag of Doritos, cheese slices, jalapeño peppers, and can of stewed meat. “I keep trying to put this damn scan thing on the package across this thing and it seems like the bullshit ain’t working for a fucking nigga like me. They make simple shit be more difficult than it need to be.”
Angie V laughed to herself. It wasn’t hard to recognize this guy was no more than an uneducated, uncouth street thug. The fact that he couldn’t form a complete sentence without cursing was one of the dead giveaways. “Hold up a minute. Let me help you. Just put all your things down right here.” She smiled, seeing he was now checking her out.
“Thanks, ma. I’m just a dude out here in this world trying to navigate through it. I need a good woman like you to help a brotha on this day-to-day bullshit. You see I already can’t buy this food without your help. So what’s up? You and me is made for each other.”
“Oh, yeah, is that right?”
“Yeah, sweetie, it is.” Mario schemed, wondering if he could maybe get some ass later.
“‘Sweetie.’” Angie V turned up her nose, indicating she was offended as she started to scan his items.
“Damn, girl, you all acting uppity I see, working at Walmart and shit like you a lawyer or something. You need to get your ass off your shoulders and stop bugging out. You need a man like me to get you right.”
“Look, sir, I’m finished with assisting you with your items. If there isn’t anything else I can do for you . . .” Angie V started to walk off but was stopped by Mario’s forearm blocking her path. “And please, sir, be so kind as to keep your body from touching mine and invading my personal space.”
“Yo, shawty, slow your roll. Knock it off. A guy straight ain’t mean shit by saying that.” Mario was simple-minded. He knew all the right words to say to the common hood rat females he was used to kicking it with, but this girl was seemingly different, much different. The way she made sure to make keep eye contact with him when she spoke, and had no problem checking him, she reminded him of Sasha, his wife. The wife he was disrespecting by even trying to push up on the next female. The wife who was doing time behind bars that rightfully belonged to him.
But at this moment, like all the others that had passed since Sasha had been locked up, Mario didn’t care. He was out for himself as always. He was on the hunt for some pussy from another random chick and he was gonna run game to get it, flat out. “Look, Miss Lady, I just wanna get to know you a little better. See what you and me can get popping. Let me at least take you out to dinner or something; maybe lunch.” Mario reached into his pocket, pulling out what appeared to be a baby-sized knot. While attempting to stunt, he accidentally dropped his debit card, which of course had Sasha’s name on it. Quickly, he swooped it up, hoping his soon-to-be conquest had not noticed.
Angie V was not a sack chaser by a long shot. After what had taken place between her and her oldest child’s deceased father, she vowed never to be swayed by the glitter of gold again. However, just as time changes, so does one’s circumstances. Her rent was past due and the lights were scheduled to be turned off in the next seven days. Even though she was getting a paycheck every two weeks and braiding hair when she could, Angie V and her three small children were still trapped in poverty. This guy was definitely not her type, but she wasn’t looking for a man to settle down with and possibly become stepfather to her kids. Low on money for the bills, in a moment of weakness, she decided to take the easy way out.
Looking around as if the morality police were somewhere hiding ready to jump out and pounce, Angie V slowly lowered her guard. “Oh, yeah? You wanna take me out, hu
h?”
“Yeah, ma. Let me take you out tonight and grab something to eat.”
“Then what?” She cut straight to the chase, not needing a meal but cold, hard cash for the rent and light bills.
Mario paused, licking his lips once more. She had been going hard since he stepped to her and now she was flipping the script like she was pushing up on him. He was no fool by a long shot and quickly figured out where this was going. Having nothing to lose, he went for it. “Then it can be whatever you want it to be. Shidddd, with me quiet as it’s kept we ain’t even gotta eat nothing. We can straight go somewhere and chill out; ya feel me?”
Angie V took out her cell and locked his number in. She hated herself and every second of what she was doing; but her kids having food in their stomachs and a roof over their heads was all that mattered. With shame in her tone, she gave into the devil’s bait of temptation. It wasn’t like she was a virgin, she reasoned, so one more dick she had to take for the team was what it would have to be. “Okay, so I get off at six-thirty this evening. You can meet me in the parking lot if you want. Is that good for you, Mr. Big Shit Talker?”
“Cool with me, baby doll, it ain’t no thang.”
She stared him directly in the eyes so there would be no misunderstanding about what was going to take place later. “All right, like I said, six-thirty, but I gotta go pick up my kids by no later than nine. And I wanna stop by and pay my DTE bill before that.”
Mario grinned, knowing for sure he was gonna hit them guts later; at least, for a small fee. He’d be eating Angie’s box instead of the jailhouse cook-up he had just purchased the items to make. “Your DTE bill, huh? How much is it?”
Angie V knew the overdue amount to avoid shutoff and the total bill owed. And since she was lowering herself to sell pussy she wasn’t going to sell it that cheap. He had a knot, so paying whatever she said should not have been a problem. “It’s $283 in total.”
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