“No, no, I don’t. That’s not—” I cut her off as fast as she started to speak.
“Yeah, you do, hon. You do. I don’t stay mad at you, because I know that you do it without even knowing, but you do, and that shit has got to stop. Fuck this ‘I love you, I need you, but I’m not gay’ shit.” Sorry, but this is just how I feel. I love you, and you are my best friend, but my obsession with you is unhealthy, and, baby, I am tryin’a find a cure so I can get right. You feel me?”
She didn’t answer. I saw a few tears fall, and she tried her best to catch them. My insides felt like they were ripping apart, but she needed to feel this, the same shit that I felt every time she rejected me. I parked the car once I reached my destination, rolled up a joint, and smoked, while she declined the feel-good weed and turned up J. Cole’s new CD. “Sparks Will Fly” came on, and damn, that shit added insult to injury.
Jamilla and I sat in the alleyway without uttering too many words between us. I was on time, and yes, White Boy was late as hell. I looked down at my phone and texted him, asking him where in the hell he was. I had only a few hours to get shit done, but I hadn’t planned on giving him that much time. Just when I was about to text again, I saw them. The red and blue lights right behind me made my stomach drop. I looked back, looked at Jamilla, and took a quick glance around me. Fuck. I was blocked in.
“Oh my God, Niya! What are you going to do?”
I looked at Jamilla with fear in my eyes. “I fucking told you to get out of the car. I fucking told you to get out.”
The funny thing was, in that moment, my thoughts were once again all about her. The thought of my life being over, the thought of me losing the first opportunity that had come my way as far as music was concerned were secondary to Jamilla and what could happen to her.
“Roll down the window,” demanded the cop who was standing by my window.
There were two of them, one on Jamilla’s side and one on mine. I couldn’t believe that this shit was happening.
I followed the cop’s orders. “Yes, Officer?” I asked, trying to play it cool.
“What are you doing here?” he barked.
“My friend and I were just having a conversation. I stopped so—”
“Bitch, step out of the fucking car.”
I was shocked, and when I didn’t move fast enough, the officer on my side of the car opened my car door and yanked me out. Jamilla screamed my name, only to have the white officer on her side tell her to shut the hell up. I was pushed against the car as the officer felt me up. I would have said searched, but he went far beyond that. He squeezed my breasts, pinched my nipples, and made sure to grab a handful of my ass.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, trying to pull away from him. He grabbed my braids and slammed my head against the hood of my car.
“I’m doing what I got paid to do. Your ass is going to jail, bitch.”
“What? Who paid you?” I asked as the shock of the situation kicked in.
“Oh my God! White Boy set you up,” Jamilla said as the cop on her side searched her.
I was not sure what happened in the next few seconds, because I went dead inside. I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t see, and I couldn’t move. White Boy set me up?
“So what? What are you? Her girlfriend? You two are lesbians, huh?” The white cop was talking to Jamilla, but with both of us pushed against my car, we just stared at each other. “Lookie here. We done caught us two dykes on the loose. Tell me something. Do you all eat pussy because you have to, or do you really enjoy it? I mean, it’s not like you have a dick to really fuck each other, so is it done out of necessity?”
I could see in Jamilla’s eyes that his words cut deep, but for me, they floated on the surface and angered me even more. The sad part was, I’d become used to hearing people talk shit about lesbians way before I even came out, so what he was saying and asking were nothing new to me. I just hated the fact that people always had to resort to using someone’s sexuality as a source for insults.
“No, really, look at you, all dressed up like a real lady. You look like you got all dressed up for your boyfriend, but no . . . you got dressed up for another bitch. What is this world coming to?” Jamilla’s cop asked her.
Jamilla started to cry, and if I could have, I would have killed both cops in the second.
“So, where’s the shit?” asked the officer who held me down. He stood me up straight and was now looking into my eyes. I didn’t answer him, so he slapped me across the face. “I’m not going to ask you twice, little girl. Where is the shit?”
I thought about punching him, but I doubted that it would do much, so instead, I head butted him. Years ago, my father had taught me how to execute the perfect head butt. He had always said that people might see a fist coming, but they would leave themselves wide open for a head butt. As our heads met, I was off a bit, and the collision caused a small gash on my forehead, but an even bigger one on his lip.
“Ah, shit. You fucking bitch.” His insult came with another slap across my face.
“Let’s throw these bitches in the back of the squad car and get this shit over with,” the white officer said.
As Jamilla and I were thrown into the old police car, my world came crashing down, and I was sure hers did too. She was still crying, and it was all because of me.
“Listen to me. You won’t go down for this. I am going to let them know that you didn’t even know that shit was in the car. Don’t cry, Jamilla. Don’t cry.”
She looked at me, and with everything in her, she asked, “But what about you, Niya? What about you?”
There we were. Thrusted in the middle of a shit storm, and finally, I heard what I had always wanted to hear. If only I could put into words what I felt in that moment, if only I could put that emotion into words, I would have used our time alone in the cop car to tell her exactly what her question meant to me. Instead, I leaned into her and forced a smile to appear on my face.
“Don’t worry about me, Jamilla. This shit was bound to happen. Just look at my bloodline.”
The expression on her face turned to disgust, and she let me have it. “What? Are you crazy? No, this will not happen like this. You have too many big things to look forward to. You are bound to lose everything.”
I didn’t answer her. She was right but . . . what could I do?
Chapter 53
Jamilla
I had to find a way to get us out of this. I was scared as hell, but I just couldn’t let Niya’s story end this way. I could tell by its looks that the cop car was old and probably didn’t have any cameras. I also knew that we were dealing with two perverts by the way they had touched Niya and me. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do, but it was worth a try. Since Niya was cuffed and I wasn’t, I started to bang on the windows.
“Ay, Officer. Come here. No, please. Come here.”
“Jamilla, just chill the fuck out.”
I didn’t give Niya’s request a second thought. I continued to bang until the cop who had slapped Niya came my way. He opened the car door and asked me what I wanted.
“Look, you don’t have to do this. I’m sure we can work something out,” I said.
“You don’t have enough money to work this out,” he answered, and then he tried to close the door, but I stopped him.
“Please, sir. I’ll do anything you want. Just let us go.”
He stood there thinking. I prayed that he took me up on my offer.
“I got paid to do a job. What am I going to tell that man? If he would be dealt with, then maybe we could talk, but I won’t be doing that dirty work.”
I wanted to spit in his face. He couldn’t kill anyone, but he could ruin the lives of two teenage girls. His partner joined us, and that was when I asked how much he was getting paid. He and his partner answered at the same time. He said he made thirty thousand, and his partner, the white cop, said fifty thousand. I looked at Niya and asked if she could top that.
With small droplets of blood
running down her face, she answered, “Hell yes.”
“Look, she will pay you sixty thousand dollars tonight just to let us go.”
The cops stood there talking, and finally, the black officer, the one who had slapped Niya, said that we had a deal.
“Wait. Hold on now. What are we going to do with White Boy? He already paid us,” his partner said.
“Who gives a shit? Look at your mouth. We’ll just say they got away,” the black officer replied.
My whole body was shaking. We were so close to having our freedom back that I almost couldn’t breathe.
“Nah, man. He is going to have to get dealt with for me to feel comfortable,” said the white officer.
“Don’t worry,” I told the white cop. “She will take care of it, trust me.”
I looked over at Niya, and she nodded her head yes.
“Come on, man, make the fucking deal and let’s take them to get the money,” said the black officer. He seemed just as eager to get out of that alley as we did, but his partner wanted us to sweeten the deal.
“Nah, that still isn’t enough,” the white cop insisted.
I looked into his eyes and instantly knew what he wanted.
“What else do you fucking want?” Niya asked out of frustration.
“Her. I want a piece of her. I want some of that sweet lesbian pussy,” he replied.
“Come on, Moore. Are you fucking crazy?” the black officer asked.
“Hell no! Take my ass to jail,” Niya said without a second thought.
“Well, we have no deal, then. Excuse me, young lady,” said the officer named Moore.
As Officer Moore went to close the car door, I stuck my left foot out and stopped him. “I’ll do it.”
“Jamilla, what the fuck? No, hell no!” Niya yelled. “Officer, close the door.”
I turned to Niya and leaned into her. I wrapped my arms around her neck and hugged her tight.
“Jamilla, please, don’t do this. Don’t fucking do this. I’d rather go down for this shit. Please, Jamilla . . . don’t,” Niya pleaded.
I pulled away from her and could see the tears that were starting to form in the corners of her eyes, and that brought on mine. I hugged her again and whispered in her ear. “Niya, I would die for you. I would kill for you, and tonight I am going to give up my body for you. I need you to know that I love you. I need—”
“I already know, Jamilla. I swear I do. Please, Jamilla, Don’t do this.”
I could tell from her voice that the tears in her eyes were now flowing like a waterfall.
“Don’t worry, Niya. I am used to this. I can handle this. I love you, okay? I need you to know that.”
“I know, Jamilla. I fucking know. Man, please don’t do this. You have been through enough of this shit.”
“I don’t have all goddamn night,” the white officer said as I pulled away from Niya.
“Jamilla, no. Please, no. Oh, my God. Please, Jamilla, don’t do this,” Niya begged.
I got out of the car while Niya’s screams decorated the night air. I didn’t look back at her. I couldn’t. Even with the car door closed, I could still hear her cries as she begged me not to save her. But she needed saving, and it was my turn to save her. It was my turn to save her.
Stepping out of the car, I knew that I was taking a big chance. The officers might go back on their deal, but it was worth a try. Officer Moore asked his partner to watch the alley, and then he pushed me on the hood of the car and slipped his fingers between my legs.
“I don’t want a dead fuck. You better act as if you are enjoying this,” he growled.
I looked him dead in the eyes and answered, “Don’t worry. Been here, done this.”
When he took my hand and tried to get me back in the car, I pulled away. “No. Not in there. Let’s just do it right here on the hood.”
“What? You don’t want your little girlfriend to see and hear what’s about to go down? I want you in that fucking car, or you can forget our deal.”
I looked at Niya, and she looked like she was still screaming.
“Please, let’s just—”
“Get your ass in that fucking car, or I walk.”
I didn’t have a choice. I waited for him to open the passenger-side door.
“Jamilla, listen to me. You don’t have to do this. Let him take me to jail,” Niya pleaded.
“I ain’t taking you to jail. We made a deal. Now, shut the fuck up and watch me fuck your girl how you only wish you could,” the officer told her.
Niya continued to scream and cry, but I just threw my hands over my ears and lay down across the front seats. My legs hung out of the car as Officer Moore spread them apart.
“You watching lesbo? You watching?”
With that, he pulled down my panties, pulled down his pants, and slid inside of me. I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t see anything, and I didn’t care to. My hands over my ears shielded me from most of Niya’s screaming, but. . . she could still be heard. I let the tears roll down the sides of my face and wet my ears, hoping that they would drown her out completely. I cried for her only. My poor Niya, I cried for her only. My body was there, but I let my mind disappear, as I had done on so many nights with my stepdad.
Chapter 54
Niya
“Jamilla, Jamilla, no. Don’t fucking do it. Please, I beg you. Don’t fucking do this.”
I kept on screaming, but to no avail. I threw my body against the door. I did everything that I could to stop her with my hands cuffed behind my back, but the horror went on. I rested my head against the grill that separated me from the front seat and just closed my eyes and cried. I tried my hardest to drown out the sounds that escaped from that front seat, but they echoed, as if we were on a mountaintop. I shook my head from side to side while over and over again I said, “No, Jamilla, no.”
Why did it have to be her? How many times did she have to get violated? How many times would her body be used and disregarded, as if it wasn’t even hers? My God, what had I done? If only I had walked away when she asked me to. If only she had never stepped into that car.
My God, what had I done?
* * *
The cops made me leave my car, and they drove me to my stash house. I thought for sure that they would still arrest me once they got their money, but I guessed they were good for one thing that night . . . keeping their word. I didn’t look at Jamilla once during that ride to pick up the money. I couldn’t look at her without breaking down again. I held the weight of that night on my shoulders, and looking at her would just make it heavier.
“Is this all of it?” Officer Moore asked as I handed him the money.
“Yeah. I only got about two thousand dollars left. You want that too?” I asked after I lied.
“Nah, we aren’t that damn greedy. Plus, we got your drugs. That will bring in some extra cash. Look, you better deal with White Boy, or we are going to be looking for you, understand?” I answered with a yes as the cops got back in their cop car.
“You just gonna leave us out here?” I asked while standing on the sidewalk with Jamilla. My question was directed to the black cop and not his partner.
“You got some cash on you. Catch a damn cab,” he answered through the open window.
I sucked my teeth and spit toward the cop car. I was beyond disgusted with the cops.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” I yelled. “You just stood there as that cracker raped my young black friend. Thanks a lot, ‘brotha.’”
The black officer reached for his door handle and was about to get out of the car, but his partner stopped him. He told him that they had my money and that my words didn’t matter.
They drove off without ever looking back.
* * *
It took us thirty minutes to flag down a cab. I looked at my watch, and I had only forty-five minutes before I was due onstage, so I wouldn’t have time to go back to my car. I had bagged everything that I had left in that stash house, and I took it wit
h us. I still hadn’t said much to Jamilla, and from the looks of things, she was also in her own world. I sat in the cab and thought about the money I was able to save while slanging drugs on the cold, hard streets of Brooklyn. I had managed to save two hundred thousand dollars, and even with the money that went to the cops, I still had enough to leave New York comfortably. I also made up my mind about the drug game and knew that after that night I would be out of it for good. That was it. I was out.
* * *
We got to the venue where the showcase was being held with about twenty minutes to spare.
“Yo, where in the hell have you been? And what happened to your face?” June said when he saw me.
I was rushed by June to one of the dressing rooms, where Rodney and Smiley were already waiting.
“I just need to get cleaned up. I really don’t have time to explain. Just show me where the bathroom is,” I said.
I left the money with Jamilla and tried my best to get myself together in the bathroom. I had two braids in my hair, which I quickly took out, letting my hair fall freely. I returned to the dressing room and asked June for his sunglasses and switched shirts with Rodney since mine had dried blood on it. When I was all done, I didn’t look too bad. I was able to hide the horror of my night behind the passion I felt for what I was about to do.
We all headed to the side of the stage, and I tried my best not to look as nervous as I felt.
“Niya, this is it. Just go out there and give it your all. Fuck being shy. Fuck worrying about what they think. Just go out there and give them the best of you.”
I needed to hear that from June. I still couldn’t really look at Jamilla.
Niya Page 19