Shooting Blindly in the Dark

by Nicole Jackson

  I gulped. Shit, I couldn’t see myself doing a year. Those months I’d done in the county were pure hell. The guards talked to you like you wasn’t shit, and a hour felt like five.

  The walls felt like they were closing in on me. My neck grew hot, and my stomach felt queasy. A wave of nausea surged through my body, and I bolted out of the office. My eyes scanned the hall, and I couldn’t spot a bathroom. So, I hurried to the nearest trash can, and puked my guts out.

  I stood there crying and throwing up. I was distraught, and lost. Nothing was for sure, anymore, and I was afraid that I’d eventually deal with the consequences of my actions alone. Kaydoa probably was going to move on, and I’d be left to pick up the pieces once I get out of jail. The thought of that had me trembling, until I felt a hand softly caress my back.

  “Calm down,” he spoke softly. “We gonna get through this shit. I got you,” he promised. “On everything, I got you.”

  The beat of my heart steadied, as he offered reassurance. Maybe everything wasn’t going to be okay, but I could survive it with him by my side.

  Chapter 17

  Kaydoa

  “I’m ready to fuckin’ go,” Jasmine griped, as we sat in the waiting area at her Gynecologists’ office.

  I’d decided to come wit her to the doctor, because she claimed that she had a fuckin’ bladder infection, and I wanted to see if that was true. I mean, I didn’t think that she was creeping, but you never know. She could be trying to get a penicillin shot without me finding out. Shit, something wasn’t right wit her ass.

  She was pissing all the time, and her pussy felt so different. Now, I wasn’t complaining about the pussy, because it seemed to have gotten even better, but still though. Somethings just wasn’t adding up, and I wanted to be there to ask the doctor my got damn self.

  “Ms. King,” the doctor called her name.

  Together we stood up, and followed the little Indian woman to the back of the clinic. “Okay, Ms. King please get undressed,” she instructed, handing her a gown, before stepping out of the room.

  I sat and watched Jasmine undress. Checking out her body, I scrounged. I don’t know how or why I hadn’t noticed just how big her stomach had gotten. And it wasn’t a normal gut, either. Her shit was round, and poking out something serious. Then it dawned on me that she’d been keeping her shirt on when we fucked, lately.

  I was hoping that she’d been keeping it a hunnid with me, but then I noticed how she refused to give me eye contact. That told me that she’d been intentionally holding back.

  “What’s up with that belly?” I asked.

  She gazed down at it like she’d just realize that her stomach was hovering over her pussy. “I guess it’s all the steak and shrimps I been eating,” she shrugged as she eased onto the examination table.

  I sat glaring at her, until the doctor re-entered the room. She sat and dug around in Jasmine’s twat, while she cringed.

  “Okay, how many months are you, Ms. King?” the doctor asked, causing me to sit up in my seat.

  “Huh?” Jasmine looked at her like she was crazy.

  “I’m talking about the baby,” the doctor gently touched her stomach.

  “What baby?” Jasmine frowned.

  The doctor smiled. “Let’s do an ultrasound, and find out exactly what’s going on.”

  I studied the doctor, as she stuck something that looked like a long dick inside of Jasmine wit what appeared to be a condom. “Okay, there’s the baby, right there.” She pointed at the screen. “You look to be about sixteen weeks,” she revealed, blowing my fuckin’ mind.

  “Sixteen weeks? That’s like four months,” I gasped.

  “Exactly,” the doctor agreed. “Ms. King, I can’t believe you didn’t know. We need to set up another appointment to run tests. You know with you having that miscarriage less than a year ago, you’ll be considered high risk.”

  I was sitting there stunned. I had been dealing wit Jasmine for a little over a year, and I aint know shit about her being pregnant before this.

  Everything the doctor said after that was a blur to me. I was fuming. Jasmine was on some other shit. Hiding pregnancies. I mean, who the fuck does that?

  When we got back in my Cadillac I went in on her ass. “What the fuck is really good? You been fucking wit these niggas out here?”

  “What?” her head whipped around. “Why the fuck would you say that?”

  “Why else would you hide a pregnancy? You had a miscarriage, and aint bother to say shit.”

  “Cause,” tears rolled down her cheeks. “I aint know I was pregnant, until I was already losing it. I didn’t know how to tell you no shit like that. You was still with Farrah, and I really thought that something like that would freak you out, and make shit all weird.”

  I stared at the road, as I thought about all kinds of shit.

  “And I didn’t hide nothing from you. I really thought that I was just gaining weight. I been having periods,” she pointed out, which was the truth.

  “A baby,” I grumbled in disbelief.

  “Yeah, a fuckin’ baby,” she sniveled, as she gazed out of the window.

  “Ugh, I hate my life,” she dropped her head into her palms, and wept.

  I cut my eyes at her, as she cried her eyes out. A huge part of me was still so pissed at her. She was fighting a case that could potentially put her away for years, and she was fuckin’ pregnant. Nothing about that shit felt good. The saying that when it rains it pours had never been truer. And a nigga was on the verge on losing it all.

  Black Reign

  For a week I sat at home, looking crazy. There was no more trapping for me, Kaydoa was constantly in and out, and running around doing whatever just didn’t feel the same, anymore. I know he claimed that we were good, but I could tell that Kaydoa was still mad at me. I tried not to let it affect me, but I felt like I was falling into a depression.

  The only bright spot was that I wasn’t pregnant alone. Although, Monay knew way before me, she was actually less than a full month ahead of me in her pregnancy. So, we both sat around, looking crazy. Me and her was both banned from the traps, but for two completely different reasons. Kaydoa wanted me to keep my nose clean, especially with a open case, and Hurt wanted Monay to stay away, because her ass had become insanely jealous. I mean, she was beefing with anybody looking at him. She didn’t care if it was a damn crack head. Sometimes her antics could be downright hilarious. And honestly, she was wasting her time. I’d learned a few things about Hurt over time. Like most niggas, he had some shit with him, but he really loved Nay. Any time a man let his pregnant girlfriend kick his ass up and down the street in front of the whole hood, it had to be fuckin’ love.

  “Bitch, let’s go to the hood,” Monay suggested, as we sat on me and Kaydoa’s couch. Her and Hurt had their own apartment, but they never seemed to go home.

  I rolled my eyes, “For what?”

  “Bitch,” she scrounged. “You act like you didn’t have a life, before you started hustling. We aint gotta go hang with them niggas. We can just go chill. Shit, let’s swing by Coke, and kick it at Shay’s house.”

  I sighed heavily, “Whatever.”

  She smiled, “And cheer up. Bitch, you aint dying. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the rain.”

  I just shook my head, as I slid on my Gucci scandals. I was rocking a red race-back shirt with white shorts, accompanied with all Gucci accessories from the watch to the belt and wide framed Gucci non-prescription glasses. I’d woken up to Gucci bags sitting on the bed with me, while Kaydoa was already gone for the day. Shit, I even had the little Gucci backpack purse that I decided to rock that day. I’d just gone to the beauty shop the day before, so my wig was freshly split.

  “Ole sexy pregnant bitch,” Monay tapped my ass. “My bitch still killin’,” she bragged, bringing a smile to my face.

  Her ass was cute too in her little tight Lacoste dress.

  “Whatever, hoe. Let’s go,” I giggled, as I snatched my keys off our coffee
table.

  We hopped into the Lex, and skirted off. We turned the music to the max, and zoned out. We had the new Jeezy before it even hit the streets, and the song had sort of become my anthem. “I used to have nothing. But now I got a whole lot of everythang. And I come through stuntin’. And now the whole world gonna know my name…”

  I whipped the wheel, pulling into the infamous Coke apartments, showing off…just a little. Everybody and their mama was outside, as I pulled up to Shay’s building.

  “I see you, Black Reign,” Bucket Head, a local knuckle head, smiled.

  “Huh!” Shay jumped off her stairs. “Twelve years old, caught up in that street life. I was tryin’ to shine harder than the street lights…” she rapped along with the song, with her old ass. Nah, I’m bullshitting. She was just twenty-six, but I swear I was more mature than her.

  I hopped out of the car, leaving it running. The stairs were facing my car, so it was cool. I copped a squat on the steps, and watched Shay and Monay perform, dancing to the song. Shay was the true definition of a bopper. She used to run with Raquel and Tae from the hood. Tae was Alex’s, the crack head’s daughter, and had been murdered back in ’05. Raquel was still alive and kickin’, but was actually now a lawyer. The bitch was getting that real money, and fucked with some powerful people, and here was Shay. She was still living in Coke apartments dating the neighborhood thugs. I couldn’t even say that they were D-boys, because they didn’t slang rocks, anymore. Most of them had graduated to burglary, which was ever popular in Houston. And most burglary jobs were done by the niggas from Coke Street.

  Shit, Shay said fuck that. She’d gotten with a young nigga that was barely twenty. He’d gotten put on by Bee, Jay Rock’s Paris’s ex. Now, that nigga Bee was eating, but them niggas was all dumb. They were always in and out of jail, and way too flashy. Nobody stunted harder than them. Nobody. And Shay obviously wanted a nigga who was getting a piece of the pie. But her silly ass had gotten a nigga that was on the lowest end of the totem pole. Still, Shay was gonna stay in True Religion or Lacoste, and that’s all that mattered to her. Her cute face and fat ass was still intact, and she relied heavily on those assets…and that’s why her ass still resided in Coke.

  “Ooh, shit, the black stallion done came back to the hood!” Boo teased, as he swaggered up the sidewalk. He was looking dapper in his Lacoste unit.

  I grinned. “What’s good?”

  “Shit, I can’t call it,” he spoke, as he stepped to me, giving me a hug. “What’s been up with you?”

  “Nothing,” I sighed.

  His gaze fell down to my stomach. “Ion know about that. Shit, you been doing something.”

  I giggled, “Shit happens.”

  He bucked his eyes. “I see.”

  “Whatever,” I playfully rolled my eyes.

  “Let me catch up with my lil’ mama,” he sighed, as he took a seat right next to me. He tried to ease a arm around me, and I moved it right back. “Oh, it’s like that?” he grinned deviously.

  “Nigga, don’t play.”

  He rubbed my thigh. “Stop fronting like you don’t know what’s up.”

  I pushed his hand off me. “I don’t.”

  “Why you so mean?”

  “Nigga please,” I rolled my eyes.

  “For real, though. You act like it’s a sin to kick it with a nigga. You think ya boy aint out here doin’ him?”

  “Say what?” I lifted a brow.

  “Yeah,” He nodded. “I be seeing him here and there with a few other bitches. But you act like it’s a crime to enjoy a old friend.”

  I sucked my teeth. “Boy, miss me with that bullshit.”

  “Aye, I’m just lookin’ out. So, you aint never heard or seen him with Lani?”

  I faced the opposite direction, because I didn’t know what his angle was. From the outside looking in things could seem like whatever, but Boo didn’t know for sure what was going on…just like I didn’t.

  Even though, I felt like Boo was low-key hating, we kicked it on Shay’s porch for hours. We were in the center of one of the roughest projects, therefore there was action the entire time. So many faces I hadn’t seen in a minute stopped by. I even saw Foo, Kaydoa’s boy. He came and stood around with us for a short while, gave Boo a funny look, and then bent a corner.

  A few times Kaydoa called my phone, but I didn’t answer. As of late, he hadn’t been having no real time for me, so I wasn’t about to drop what I was doing to see what he wanted. I was kicking it. Niggas was posted up, smoking blunt after blunt, and I felt like I’d caught a contact.

  I was giggling at every little thing, as Monay flirted with her ex-boyfriend Moochie. I was leaning on my car, while Boo stood right next to me. Everybody was chatting away, until we heard loud booming from multiple sound systems in the distance. I glanced to my left, and noticed Kaydoa’s new green Escalade leading the pack of candy green slabs, pulling up to us. It was like seven car loads of niggas.

  “The fuck,” I mumbled, as they swung into spots in the lot.

  Kaydoa hopped out of his truck, while it was still running. He was shirtless with a long piece and chain dangling across his abs. He was wearing long white Armani shorts that slightly sagged off his ass with a brown Louie belt wrapped around his waist, and brown Louie tennis shoes on his feet. The waves in his head were making me seasick, and the edge up appeared fresh. I swear he was pretty, but he tried to take off the edge with all those tattoos.

  “What’s up?” he smiled, as he approached us. “Yall chilling?” A chill eased up my spine, because I knew that one deadly nigga lied beneath that gentle smile.

  “Yeah, what’s up, my nigga?” Boo attempted to shake his hand.

  Kaydoa looked at Boo’s hand like it had shit on it. “Come here, Jasmine,” he commanded, completely ignoring Boo.

  “Huh?” I stepped around Boo.

  Kaydoa stood there, glaring at Boo. “Say, my nigga, why don’t you back up and give us some room?”

  Boo was leaning hard on my car. “Shit, I’m chilling.”

  Kaydoa shoved me aside. “Nigga, get ya bitch ass off my car.”

  “What?” Boo scrounged. “Nigga, I aint these other niggas around here. You don’t put no fear in my heart, patnah.”

  Kaydoa rubbed his hands together, as his Rolex glistened underneath the sun’s glare. “Woo-Woo!” he signaled, and a few young niggas that hustled for us rushed Boo.

  “Kaydoa!” I screeched, as I watched over six niggas jump on that boy.

  He leaned in, placing his forehead on mines. “You made that happen. Blame ya muthafuckin’ self,” he growled. “Now go get yo ass in my truck. Somebody is gonna drive your car back home.”

  “I aint…” I twisted my neck, until he gripped my jaw.

  “You aint what? Huh?” he breathed like a dragon. “Get fucked up out here. Take yo ass to my truck. Don’t make me say that shit again,” he gritted.

  Feeling like a child that had just been chastised, I stomped to his truck, and climbed in. “Hurt stop!” I heard Monay screaming, as he tussled with her.

  I waved my head. Those niggas were un-fucking-believable. All the street running they did, and had shown up on the scene, shutting shit down. I don’t know who the fuck Kaydoa thought he was. Like he was some boss nigga. Had muthafuckas moving on his command. Fucking up my day.

  After they had beat the shit out of Boo, Kaydoa came and hopped into the truck. Backing out of the lot, his nostrils flared. I really didn’t know what to say, so I just stared out the window. His music was blasting sky high, and that was fine by me. I thought that he was gonna keep it that way, until he lowered the volume.

  “You aint see me calling you?” he squinted.

  I shrugged him off. “Yeah, I saw it.”

  He curled his lips. “So, why you aint fuckin’ answer?”

  “Just like you don’t come home half the time. I aint feel like it.”

  He chuckled to himself. “This ignorant bitch, main, I swear.”

 
; “Fuck you,” I grumbled, folding my arms over my belly.

  “This muthafucka wanna talk about me being gone all the time,” he talked to himself. “How about a nigga out here grinding for lawyer fees. A nigga had to rearrange traps and everything, because of her stupid decisions. Out here in these streets trying to make sure that the money is right, cause he got a seed on the way. And his baby mama out in the jungle, putting herself in harm’s way, forgetting that shit aint sweet out here, and she aint the bitch she used to be.”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled.

  “Nah, it aint no whatever!” he fumed. “You gon have to put on your big girl panties, and grow the fuck up. Life aint gon always be fair, but you cannot run around here doing whatever the fuck you want! And don’t give me that ‘grown’ shit. That’s my fuckin’ baby!” he hit the steering wheel. “You out there, around a bunch of bullshit ass niggas that don’t give a fuck about you! They broke asses won’t hesitate to catch you slipping. Aint no nigga over there moving what we moving. You gon fuck around and be a causality of war. Shit, I know,” he licked his lips. “I done snatched a few niggas’ bitches and put a price on that bitch head. When niggas hungry they don’t give a fuck about you, Jasmine. Fuck making me mad. Think about that helpless baby. Why would you intentionally take the baby through the middle of all that shit?”

  “So, what I am I supposed to do?” I sobbed. “Just sit in the house and do nothing?”

  “Go to the mall, hang with your girls, go out to eat. It’s a bunch of shit that you can do. You love hanging in the streets…in the gutter. The streets don’t love nobody. All them friendly smiles you get is all bullshit. That’s how people are. They love you when you’re up, and forget about you when you down.”

  I sucked my teeth. “Just like you, huh?”