Bottom Bitch

by Racquel Williams

  My boys were waiting for us by the time we got outside.

  “Whaddup, boss?” they said in unison.

  “Shit, taking it easy.”

  “Yea yo’ass done got black as coal,” Dre joked.

  “Yea, that good ole sun.”

  “Sierra, what’s good witcha?” Chuck asked.

  “Nada just tired.”

  “C’mon, let’s get you home then.”

  We all got in Dre’s Suburban truck and headed for Richmond.

  “Yo, cut the heat on, B.”

  “I gotcha, partna.”

  “You better, homie,” I said, laughing my ass off.

  “I missed y’all though. No joke ‘bout that.”

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” I said after Chuck handed me a blunt.

  “Nah, nigga, you should’ve brought back some a that good ole ganja.”

  “Yea right, with all those jakes and sniffing dogs, shit, I’m good.”

  “Oh yea, my bad.”

  It was complete silence on the ride home. I kind of felt excited to back home. I was ready to get back into the flow of things. Time was money, and I was wasting time. When we got to the house, Sierra went to bed, and me and the guys went into my office. I was eager to discuss some BI ASAP.

  It was still early in the night, so we decided to roll out. I got my burner and placed it in my waist. It was back to the regular; got to stay strapped. I set the alarm, and we headed out the door.

  I felt a gun in my back, and I tried to reach for mines.

  “Lemme get that from you,” a voice said.

  Then, out of nowhere, cars came rushing from all angles up the driveway. They were everywhere.

  “Get down now,” a big, burly dude said.

  “Get down! Richmond police, Richmond Police department.”

  I obeyed the order even though I wanted to say, “Suck my dick.” They had Chuck and Dre in the same position. The same big pig placed handcuffs on me then helped me up off the ground. I kept my cool even though my heart was racing. This was my first time getting cuffed. I wasn’t scared though; I was mad as hell.

  I heard Chuck going off on them. They dragged him down the driveway into the police cruiser. I saw fire in Dre’s eyes as he watched what they were doing to his partna. All I heard Chuck keep saying was “Fuck y’all bitch ass niggas.” I felt the same way, but I was not going to make a bad situation worse.

  The big pig came back to where I was standing. “Alijah Jackson, you’re under arrest for murder.”

  “Who tha fuck I murder?” I cut him off before he could finish reading me my rights.

  They put us all in separate cars. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on or what murder he was referring to. I had been marking niggas since I was fifteen. How was I supposed to know which one they’re referring to?

  On my way to the see the magistrate, I was hurting. Not so much for myself, but for Sierra. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I was in a fucked up situation, but I felt more for her. Before we left, I saw her peeping through the blinds. I was happy that she didn’t run out there like most chicks would’ve done, because if she did that, they would have had a reason to go up in there. I definitely didn’t want that. I couldn’t risk her catching a charge behind me.

  The magistrate denied my bond. The bitch said the charge was too serious. I was fuming by then, but I kept my cool. I was fingerprinted, searched, and given a blanket. They placed me in a cage that was cold and smelled like stale piss. I was glad my stomach was empty; if not, I would’ve hurled.

  They gave me a phone call, so I called Shayna, so she could get to the bottom of the shit. The magistrate mentioned that I was charged with murdering Anthony Smith and a couple other names I knew then it was Lil Tony. She needed to get to the bottom of it. I knew damn well ain’t no way I could possibly be implicated in that nigga’s murder. I knew they didn’t have anything on me; they were just fishing. But, I couldn’t help but wonder why my name was involved in the first place.

  I dialed Shayna’s number, but got no answer from the house or her cell phone. I knew we weren’t fucking with each other, but fuck it; I was locked up for murder.

  I called Saleem right away. “Yo, bruh, it’s me. Listen, I’m in the belly a the beast. Don’t know what’s going on . . . don’t know what’s going on . . . but I need you to find out. Call wifey; get her down here by nine-thirty tomorrow morning.”

  “Gotcha, keep yo’ head up, brotha. I’m on it. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Jackson, you’re time is up,” the guard yelled.

  “Man, I got to go.”

  “Peace, my brotha.”

  I walked back into my cell, trying to rack my brain for information on what they had on me and what were Chuck and Dre charged with? No one saw us that day. Something wasn’t adding up. How did they know Sierra’s address? Those were all questions that I needed to know the answers to. I tried my hardest to doze off, but with the clicking of the cells and the stench coming from the cell, I just ended up with a migraine.

  I jumped up when the Sheriff Deputy called my name.

  “Mr. Jackson, you have court this morning.”

  “Did my lawyer show up as yet?” I asked.

  “Not yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as he gets here.”

  “It’s a she. Shayna Jackson, pussy hole.”

  He didn’t answer. He turned around and walked away.

  It was my time to see to see the judge. The courtroom was crowded, but I spotted my baby girl sitting in the front row. I read her lips as she whispered that she loved me. I felt a little better seeing her face. It was strange that I didn’t see Shayna. Instead, I saw a young, black dude in an expensive suit approach the desk.

  “Your honor, I’m Keith Johnson, Mr. Jackson’s attorney.”

  Who the fuck was that dude, and where was Shayna’s bitch ass at? Well, fuck it. He was there, so let’s see if he could work magic and get me the fuck out of there.

  I should’ve known better. It wasn’t going to work in my favor. Word in the street was that Judge Shakes was the most racist pig in the court system, and there my black ass was standing up there with another black nigga in a nice suit trying to ask to set me free. When in reality, most niggas bond out and never showed back up. Why was I any different? Can’t kill a man for trying. I returned back to my cell with a few other cats that were in the same boat as myself –– denied bond. I couldn’t believe that clown ass judge denied me bond, claiming I was a flight risk. I wasn’t going to trip though. Instead, I took it like a trooper.

  It was evening time before I got processed, and I was given an orange jumpsuit, washcloth, towel, a roll of toilet paper, and a mat to sleep on. I was on the second tier G2. When I walked in my cell, my bunky wasn’t there, so that gave me time to get my shit situated and get my thoughts together.

  I jumped straight on the phone. I saw niggas gritting on me, and I gritted right back at them to let them know I was in no mood to be fucked with, especially with all the frustration that I had built up in me. I could really punish a nigga. I was known for gunplay, but I was also a beast with them hands.

  I dialed Shayna’s number. Still no answer. Both her phones were going straight to voicemail. I hung up and dialed Sierra’s number. She picked up.

  “Whaddup, ma?”

  “You aiight, baby?”

  “Yea, ma, I’m aiight. You know a nigga got to maintain.”

  “Listen, boo, I’ll be down there this evening. I miss you so much.”

  “I miss you too, ma, but listen, I need you to get on top of shit for me. Aiight?”

  “Yea, what’s up?”

  I had her call Shayna’s number on three-way, she still wasn’t picking up. It was like she just dropped off the face of the earth. I wondered what the fuck she was doing. I almost regretted killing Markus because he would be on top of shit forreal.

  I also called Saleem. He was handling everything. Everything was under control out there. My fifteen minutes ende
d fast, but I called back three other times. I was really missing her, and her crying didn’t help any. I wished I could’ve held her and told her it was going to be alright, but the truth was, I didn’t know what those fools really had on me and wouldn’t know until the fake Johnnie Cochran came to see me. On my way back to my cell, a couple niggas approached me, basically riding my dick. I didn’t even recognize not one of them. They were just going by word of mouth. Which was cool, so they should know I wasn’t nothing nice. I kicked it with them for about five minutes then I jetted off.

  It had been a long day. Plus, my wifey was on her way. I walked back to my cell, where a stout dude was sitting on the top bunk.

  “What’s up, my man?” I tried to be polite. If we were going to be sharing the cell, the least I could do was be polite.

  “Whaddup, youngin’”

  I recognized right away he was from D.C. They the only cats that refer to niggas as youngin’. I used to go out to Southeast D.C to handle business with some Jamaican cats out there. I never really got personal with them because they came off as a bunch of confused niggas. They were right in the middle, so they didn’t know if they wanted to ride with New York or Virginia cats.

  “This your first time in youngin’?”

  “Son, no disrespect, but my name is Alijah. I prefer you address me that way.”

  “Word, well mine is J-Rock. I would like for you to use it,” he said with a grin on his face.

  I wasn’t stuttin’ him. I had just met him, and I already liked him. It was already chow time. I wasn’t hungry, so I stayed in the cell. I took a shower, got dressed, and waited to hear my name called for visitation.

  I heard someone holler, “Dude, you on TV.”

  I paid it no mind.

  A little, yellow skinned dude with missing teeth peeped in my cell. “Yo, bro, I was talkin’ to you.”

  I had no idea what that fool was talking about, but was curious to see. I walked over to where everyone was crowded around the television that was on full blast. Sure enough, there I was on TV, along with Chuck and Dre. This was outside of the crib. Damn, the whole time we were on TV, and we didn’t even know.

  I tried to listen to what the DA was saying, but it was too late. Whatever he said had the crowd hollering at me and looking at me crazy. I knew those niggas were from Richmond and probably from Creighton. I knew I was outnumbered, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was going to defend mines. Luckily, for them, no one jumped out there, which was good because only God knew how it was going to end up.

  “Alijah Jackson, you have a visit. Please have your armband on,” the deputy announced.

  I was on point. I was hyped up to see my baby girl. I watched as she walked toward my window. I knew I had to be strong for her. I picked the phone up.

  “What’s good, ma?”

  “Boy, you. I couldn’t wait to get up here.”

  “Yea, you still beautiful.”

  “Boy, you a trip. You acting like you been gone for a while.”

  “I haven’t? It sure feels like it,” I said sarcastically. “Nah, ma, I’m just missing you.”

  “Me too, baby. I couldn’t sleep last night. Mo’ came over for a while, and we kicked it until she went home.”

  “Ma, you and Mo’ is gettin’ a little bit too tight. Let me find out she like you.”

  “Boy, please, you play too much,” she said with an attitude.

  We ended up talking about other things. It wasn’t too much we could talk about on the phone because we already knew all our conversation was been recorded. In the end, our thirty minutes was up. I saw the pain in her eyes that I caused her. I wished I could’ve erased all her pain that I brought upon her, but it was too late for that. I just had to keep the faith and hope for the best.

  Sierra Rogers

  I thought I was dreaming when I heard all the commotion outside. My first instinct was to be nosy, so I rushed over to my bedroom window to see what all that chaos was that was taking place outside. What I saw was straight out of the show The Wire. Richmond P.D. had their guns drawn while Alijah and his boys laid flat on their stomach.

  I wanted to rush out there and get my baby, but you know I wasn’t no stranger to that type of police brutality, so I kept my calm. The last thing I needed was for them to come up in the house. Alijah had about four burners up in there, so I sat back and watched it play out.

  The next few minutes was the worst fear of every hustler’s wife who had ever witnessed her man hauled off to jail. “Noooo!” I yelled as they drove off into the dark streets. I didn’t know what to do. I ran in the closet, took out the burners, and ran down to the basement. I hid them behind the hot water boiler. It wasn’t a good hiding place, but for the time it would do.

  By the time I went back upstairs, all the police cars were gone. I was still uneasy. I didn’t know what was going on and if they were going to come back with a search warrant. I sat on the couch with my head on my lap and busted out crying. Damn it! We just came back from our vacation, now that shit happened.

  I looked at the clock it read 9:45 pm. It was still early. I had to find out where they took him to and on what charges. I called 411, so I could get the number for the Richmond City Jail. I was going to get my baby out ASAP.

  “Hello, Richmond City Jail. May I help you?” an older woman answered the phone.

  “Yes, I’m calling to see about Alijah Jackson. What are his charges, and how much is his bond?”

  “Hold on a second, ma’am, so I can check . . . yes, he’s here, and he’s charged with first degree murder and conspiracy to commit murder. He has no bond.” I didn’t bother to thank her; I just hung the phone up.

  “Murder,” I just kept repeating to myself.

  I felt bad that I didn’t check on his boys, but their bitches needed to be checking like I was. I kept pacing back and forth, trying to contemplate my next move.

  I decided to call Lil Mo’. Maybe she could’ve given me some advice.

  “Bitch, when did you get back?”

  “A few hours ago, and shit hit the fan.”

  “What you mean?”

  “They locked Alijah and his boys up outside of the house.”

  “For what?”

  “They said murder. I ‘ont kno’ what the fuck going on, but I need you to come over here ASAP. Help me figure this shit out.”

  “I’m on the way.”

  ***

  “Sorry I took so long. I was all the way out West Broad wit’ Jonte’ fine ass. Bitch, you owe me ‘cause I had to take a rain check, and he was mad as hell that I left before he got some pussy.”

  “I’ll make it up to you, but I couldn’t deal with this by myself. I know you been in this type of situation before when Troy caught his case.”

  See, Troy was Mo’s boyfriend before he caught a federal case, and they sent him away for twenty-five years for twenty kilos of cocaine. She still sends him money and goes to see him on the regular, but other than that, she been moved on to the next dope boy.

  “Well, you need to go see him in the morning. Do you know if he have a lawyer?”

  “I don’t know nothing, but the lady did say he have court in the morning.”

  We sat down and tried to figure out who it was he was supposed to have killed, but it was useless forreal. I didn’t know much about Alijah; only what he wanted me to know. I prayed to God he wasn’t that careless to get caught up in that mess. I knew being in love with a nigga in the game there were only two outcomes: him doing a bid or six feet under. I hoped neither one was Alijah’s fate.

  That night I was glad Mo’ came over, because without her company, I’d have lost my mind. Any other time if we’re alone, we’d be going at it, but we didn’t this time. We just lay there, smoked a blunt, and drank a glass of Alize. I lay in her lap as she rubbed my back while I vented about Alijah.

  I wanted her by my side, but she had to go open up the shop. We still had client’s hair to do, and I did feel bad that I wasn’t there to handle my share o
f responsibility. Before she left, I placed all the burners in her trunk. She was going to be watching them until I was sure what was going on. My gun was registered, so that wasn’t a problem.

  By 8:30 am, I was dressed and on my way out the door. I was the first person up in Courtroom A, where Alijah’s case was on the docket. It seemed like forever for his name to be called. Even though he had on a bright ass orange jumpsuit, baby boy still looked sexy. I gave him a big smile, even though I was hurting to see him like that. They had my baby shackled like he was an animal.

  A young, black brother stood up when Alijah walked in. I knew right then that he wasn’t no court-appointed lawyer by the way he walked with arrogance, and he spelled money from head to toe with his expensive suit and gator shoes. He resembled a young Johnny Cochran. I scooted up closer on the bench. I was trying to catch every piece of detail that Judge Shakes was spitting out. His lawyer was also thorough with his words, but the prosecutor wouldn’t let up. They went blow-for-blow. In the end, his bail was denied.

  I saw the disappointment on his face. I got really heated when I saw the faggot ass DA smiling with his partner. I wanted to cuss him and the judge out. My man was innocent. How could they do this to him? I caught myself. I had to keep a straight head. I couldn’t get in trouble, too. I had to stay focused. I had to be strong. That’s what a bad bitch did for her man.

  I stayed back and had a talk with his lawyer.

  “Hello, I’m Sierra, Alijah’s girlfriend.” I stretched my arm out and shook his hand.

  “Hello, I’m Keith Alexandria.”

  “Let’s get to the point. What they have on him?”

  “Well, I just got a call by brother Saleem this morning, so I really didn’t get to talk to Alijah or the DA as yet. All I know right now is that he’s been charged with multiple counts of murder.”

  “So, by when will you know something?” I asked. I hated that I was coming off as arrogant, but that wasn’t the time to get all cordial. I just needed to know what was really good.

  “Well, it’s still early. I will be staying behind so I can meet the DA and get all the details and get a copy of the charges. Give me your number. I’ll give you a call as soon as I learn something.”