Around the Way Girls 8

by Tina Brooks McKinney

  “I’m sorry, Officer,” Kelly said, sincerely,

  “Can I see your license, registration, and proof of insurance?” Dante asked.

  “Uh, I don’t have all’lat, Officer, this—this isn’t my car,” Kelly said slowly.

  “I’m going to need both of you to step out of the car,” Dante said, as he pointed his gun at the side of Kelly’s face.

  Kelly froze. Where the fuck did he come from anyway? she thought. Kelly had a visual on the Charger the whole time, or so she thought. And she did, but what she didn’t know is that there were two Dodge Chargers in pursuit of the vehicle that contained her and Laquisha.

  Kelly played it calm, and she urged Laquisha to do the same. Laquisha didn’t know, but Kelly didn’t have a license.

  “Be easy, yo, I told you, I got this,” Kelly told her in a light whisper.

  Kelly and Laquisha both stepped out of the car. Dante motioned with his gun for Laquisha to get up on the curb. He escorted Kelly by her arm around the front of the car and onto the sidewalk where Laquisha was standing. There were quite a few onlookers as people walked up and down the street, trying to be nosy.

  “Uh, I’m sorry Officer, but there must be some sort of mix-up,” Kelly said, with her voice half sexy and half sad.

  Dante turned her around to face him. He did a double take and looked at his suspect. It can’t be. This is the same girl that just cursed me out and sent me away. Damn, she is fine as hell! She even looks better than she did two hours ago. Now, how is that possible? he thought. Dante had to quickly put the current situation into perspective. For a split second, he had forgotten that he was an officer of the law on a criminal radio call, with suspects in his presence. He had to remind himself that just because they were females, that didn’t make them any less dangerous. He looked at Kelly one more time and all that he had just told himself went straight out the window.

  “No, uh, I’m sorry, miss, but there was a report of a theft and the description fits your vehicle. And you and your girlfriend here fit the description of the perps.”

  The radio dispatcher had said that they were armed and dangerous. The freak in him hoped it was Kelly who had the gun. Damn, he knew he was wrong, but he was so turned on by the thought. Like Bobby V, Dante wanted her phone number right then and there, but he knew that to just come out and ask her would in no way be appropriate. Dante didn’t want to be on the end of a sexual-harassment charge. He was a police officer and she was a suspect in a crime. But he had to think of something, because there was no way he was going to be able to arrest her.

  The other police officers that had been called for backup had arrived on the scene. They saw that Dante had the two females up against the wall with his gun drawn and that he appeared to be questioning them. He looked to have the situation under control, but they checked with him anyway.

  “You all right over there, Evans?” one of them inquired.

  “Yeah, I got it covered,” he told them.

  Noticing the growing crowd of spectators, the two additional police officers took it upon themselves to try to clear the streets. In their efforts to get the mass of people who had suddenly gathered to go on about their business, they were met with boos, a host of other unwelcomed words, and a few pieces of trash that had been spewed at them. It took them a little while, but they managed to clear the crowd.

  “All right, Evans, we removed your audience. You need us to help you with anything else?” one of the officers humorously yelled out. He saw the pretty young things that their fellow officer had up against the wall. His guess was that the ladies wouldn’t see the inside of a jail cell. At least, not this time.

  Dante looked behind him and saw that most of the people who had front-row seats to the excitement had gone. He looked at Kelly again. He felt her eyes plead with his for him to say no, he didn’t need them. He felt her eyes telling him that it was him that she needed at that very moment, in more ways than one.

  “No, but thanks for the offer, I don’t need y’all. I told you, I got it covered,” Dante turned around and told them.

  “Yeah, we know you do,” the officer said with laughter as he got back into his Charger.

  Laquisha peeped the eye contact between Dante and Kelly. She then peeped out Dante. He was a good-looking dude minus the police uniform. Laquisha didn’t give a fuck how she got out of the trouble that they had managed to get themselves into; she just wanted to get out of it, so that she could get home to her kids. Shit, if he wanted pussy in order for him to let them go, she was more than down. Her pussy was still twitching and waiting to be fed.

  “I don’t usually do this, honestly, I never do this, but something is telling me to let you go,” Dante said, apprehensively. His eyes were back on Kelly and he couldn’t seem to take them off of her.

  “Word,” was all Kelly could say, as she looked up at the police officer who she had just previously called a devil. She stared at his police badge and read it aloud, “D. Evans.”

  “Yeah, the D is for Dante, and yeah, uh, my last name is Evans,” he told her, while underlining his name with his finger, his eyes still glued to hers.

  Dante Evans was a tall, dark caramel, fine-ass brother and had captured 100 percent of Kelly’s attention. She could tell he was nervous. She thought that was cute. He wasn’t sucker nervous, though. Kelly was a great reader of people. She knew that this could have turned out completely different and Dante would not have appeared to be so nervously cute. What the hell was she thinking? Was she actually thinking good things about a police officer? She couldn’t be. Kelly mentally forced herself to remember exactly who Dante really was. He was a devil, he was a pig, he was who she hated and despised.

  “Well, I want to thank you, Dante Evans, for doing something you’ve never done before,” Kelly said, flirting with the officer, playing the role so that he would let them go.

  Dante smiled at Kelly, causing her to feel a really warm sensation flow through her. She instantly smiled back.

  “So does that mean we’re free to go?” Kelly asked, still smiling. She was ready to be out. This man was making her feel too strange in a good way. She didn’t know where it was coming from and she didn’t understand it.

  Dante didn’t want Kelly to leave. This was his second time within hours of coming in contact with her. That had to mean something. He also recognized that she wasn’t the type of woman that he was normally attracted to, but there was something electrifying that transpired every time he looked in her eyes and he never, ever wanted her to leave his presence. He had to think of something to make her see him again.

  “You can’t go, not yet,” Dante told her.

  “What? Why? I thought you were going to let us go?” Kelly asked in a slight panic. She thought briefly that he might turn on them as the devils and pigs were famously known for doing, and go back on his word.

  “Come on, Officer, you playin’ wit’ our heads,” Laquisha told him. She also began to get nervous again. She had never in her life seen a cop just let someone go after a high-speed chase. She knew the shit was too good to be true. If he was going to arrest them, Laquisha wished that he would just do it and get it over with. The sooner she got locked up, the sooner she could call someone to bail her out.

  “I’m not playin’ with your heads. I’m doing what I do, I’m doing my job, which is to protect and serve,” he said slowly as he studied Kelly’s facial features. His eyes landed on her hair as he imagined taking her rubber band out, freeing her beautiful hair, and running his fingers and his face all through it.

  “So you protect and serve, huh? Who is it that you protect and what exactly is it that you’re serving?” Kelly asked in a sultry tome. She couldn’t help it. He kept throwing it at her, and she kept throwing it back.

  “Yes, I do, and I would love to protect and serve someone as fine as you,” Dante said. Yes! You said it, he thought to himself.

  Kelly was about to say no when he told her, “Come on now, I did something that I’ve never done
before, for you. The least you can do is the same for me.”

  “Man, let me find out, Mr. Police Officer, you tryin’a holla at my girl?” Laquisha said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, is this your girl?” Dante asked, waving his hand between the two of them. He knew a lot of pretty chicks were hooking up with other women, but damn.

  “Oh hell no, you need to correct that right now, it ain’t even like that,” Kelly said.

  “Okay, well, then why don’t you show me exactly what it is like,” Dante said, smiling, as they verbally challenged one another.

  Kelly couldn’t help but to smile. He was dead-on about what he wanted and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Dante blushed as his spirits lightened. He knew that he had accomplished his goal. He was going to get her cell phone number. Dante pulled his phone out and got ready to enter Kelly’s information. Kelly couldn’t hide the smirk on her face. Did he really think she was going to give him her real number? She smiled at him as she prepared to blurt out a false number.

  “Oh, no you don’t. I’m not falling for that fake number crap. Call me,” he told her.

  “What?” she asked him, acting like she was confused.

  “Call me from your phone right now,” he demanded.

  Dante recited his cell phone number to Kelly and she reluctantly entered his number into her cell phone and placed a call to him. He answered his phone with a Kool-Aid smile on his face.

  “Hello, this is Officer Dante Evans. Who’s this?” he asked, smiling.

  “This is Kelly.”

  “Kelly, huh? Well, Kelly, you know my last name, how about telling me yours?” he asked, staring at her.

  “Morgan,” she said.

  “Kelly Morgan, great, I’ll be in touch. Kelly Morgan, you stay beautiful,” Dante said as he ended their call.

  Kelly laughed at his sense of humor. Fuck it, if all she had to do to get out of another felony charge was talk shit to this fine-ass, corny-ass cop, then so be it. It could have been a lot worse. Kelly let out a huge sigh of relief. She felt lucky as hell to be walking away from the crazy shit they had just done, but now that she had breezed through it, it just seemed like another one of her crazy adventures that she had gotten away with. Kelly just knew she had angels assigned specifically for her. Her mother used to constantly tell her that God took care of fools and babies. Not that she was calling herself stupid, but she had to admit to herself that a lot of the things she did were the result of her making foolish decisions.

  “Yo, that shit was sick, yo,” Laquisha said, as she joined Kelly and got into Buddah’s Ac.

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Kelly agreed.

  “Peep how I didn’t have trouble getting in the car just now, though,” Laquisha said as she slammed the door shut, looking suspiciously at her.

  “Word, that shit is crazy, yo,” Kelly said.

  “For a minute, I thought you was trying to get a bitch caught up,” Laquisha admitted.

  “Why the fuck would I do that? I don’t get down like that,” Kelly told her.

  “Shit, you never know these days,” Laquisha said, shaking her head back and forth.

  “No, you never do,” Kelly agreed, again.

  “Shit, after that crazy shit, a bitch need to blow. You got some more choke?” Laquisha asked.

  Kelly agreed with Laquisha: A good blunt would hit the spot after their crazy ordeal. She checked her phone to see what time it was. It was almost four o’clock. She needed to handle Buddah’s business. Kelly reached inside of her Dooney & Bourke denim bag and pulled out a grape-flavored Dutch and a bag of purple cush. She held the bag up to her nose and reveled in the aroma before she dropped the items into Laquisha’s lap.

  “Roll up,” Kelly said, as she handled the wheel of the Ac and pulled off.

  “You gon’ call that nigga?” Laquisha asked.

  “Call what nigga?” Kelly asked in return, playing dumb, as if she had no idea at all who Laquisha was talking about.

  “You know who; don’t front, that cop.”

  “Hell fuckin’ no, I’m not callin’ that nigga. You know I can’t stand them muthafuckas. Those bitches make my skin crawl.”

  “Shit, whatever, bitch. Give me that nigga’s number; I’ll call him.”

  “Oh, believe me, ho, I know you would,” Kelly teased, as if she didn’t know what time it was.

  Chapter 4

  Lockdown

  “1817024,” the correction officer yelled.

  “Right here,” Kevin answered.

  Long, thick, reddish-brown dreads hung on Kevin’s broad shoulders in a large mass. They were identical in color with the freckles that covered his entire face. A few darker freckles were fixed permanently on his rose-colored thin lips. His light brown eyes squinted a lot, and he always held a serious demeanor. Kevin was tall in stature, at six feet three inches. At a solid 285 pounds, his presence was a bit overbearing to some. He stood still in his orange jumpsuit, waiting to be allowed to go into his pod. The fact that he had to be “allowed” to go anywhere had yet to set well with him, but he dealt with it the very best he could.

  Kevin Morgan was so tired of being referred to and identified as a number, but he knew there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He only had one more year to do in the rat hole that he was in. Then after that, the whole world would be his once more; he would be free. That day was going to be one of the happiest days of Kevin’s life, but for now he still had time to serve. He was the property of the prison system and they had a way of breaking a man’s spirit if he wasn’t mentally, physically, and emotionally strong enough to withstand the pressures that brewed and erupted within those walls.

  The stories he had heard about prison from niggas on the streets who had done bids weren’t shit compared to what was really going on when he arrived to do his. Kevin had just turned eighteen and he really wasn’t ready to spend five years of his life behind bars. But who was ever really ready for some shit like that? Shit was crazy. Niggas was already wilin’ out and trying to kill each other on the bus on the way up there. Right then he knew that he had better put his game face on because it was on. He knew quickly that he was going to have to become a man before a nigga tried to make him his bitch.

  When he had first arrived it was in the dead of summer back in ’05. Niggas was damn near sleeping on top of other niggas due to overcrowding. There were just too many inmates and not enough space. The prison didn’t have any air-conditioning units that were functioning properly and the inmates were made to endure the unbearable conditions. There were also many more violations. And sure, they could complain, but that shit wouldn’t have done any good because the people they had to complain to were the cause of the problem.

  One day, it was so hot Kevin had to take three showers just to stay cool. He would sweat so bad that he would be awakened out of his sleep. Sometimes, he would grab his top sheet and pillow and put them on the floor by the door and sleep there, just to catch a lil’ breeze. Three inmates died that summer due to excessive heat.

  Niggas didn’t know how to act in the heat. Muthafuckas was fighting way more than usual. And muthafuckas’ dicks were roaming places they had no business trying to roam. They were raping the fresh inmates and Kevin wasn’t immune. His manhood had been put to the test when he first came in. He had just finished his shower and was on his way out when two big niggas pushed him back.

  “I always wanted to know what it was like with a dread,” one of them said.

  Kevin didn’t give them time to say any more than that. He began swinging his fists wildly at his antagonists. He managed to catch one the dudes in the eye and buffed his shit up. He had studied kickboxing when he was a young teen and was able to kick the shit out of the dude who clearly was a “fem.” The way Kevin kicked him in his dick he may not have needed “the operation.” During the scuffle, Kevin had caught a few to the dome, but he was willing to take that and then some to keep them niggas out of his ass. After niggas had heard about what went down
in the shower, Kevin had earned his respect. He had a few light fights here and there, but nothing major. Now that he was close to seeing the outside of the dingy place he called home for the past four years, he was just trying to finish his time.

  They were just coming from the mess hall and were counting everyone before they went back into their pods. Kevin was feeling pretty good. He had half-ass enjoyed his meal, which was a dry-ass chicken patty on a stale-ass bun, but still, he liked it. And he had gotten to talk to big sister and she sounded good. It killed Kevin that he had to leave his sister Kelly on the streets to fend for herself. He had always held her down. No matter what the situation, he was always on her side, fighting for her.

  Kevin knew all of the game that niggas was spittin’ to broads on the street. Although he was younger than his sister by several years, he still was able to hip her to a lot of game. He showed her how to tell if a nigga was really fucking with her or if he was just playing with her feelings. He taught her how to take a man down if he tried to attack her. He taught her how to shoot her first pistol. He had shown her how to survive on the streets without having to have a man to depend on. Kevin was confident that Kelly was out there handling her business. He had schooled her too well for her not to be handling her business the right way.

  Once in their pod, a dark-skinned dude by the name of Siggah was trying to get at Kevin to holla at him before they got locked down for the night. Kevin had only been down for four years, but Kev took no shorts and niggas respected that. The whole prison knew what time it was with Kev. He was the leader of his pod. Actually, Kevin was always the leader anywhere he went. That was the type of personality he had—very strong and dominant.

  “Ay, yo, Kev,” Siggah called.

  “Ay, what up, son,” Kevin replied.

  Kevin knew Siggah, but he didn’t really fuck with him. Siggah had a lot of flaky shit with him. He left the streets owing a lot of people a lot of money. He was famous for getting niggas to invest in some pyramid-scheme–type shit and then when it came time for a nigga to get paid Siggah’s ass was nowhere to be found. Well, one of his investors did manage to find him and kicked his ass so bad that Siggah was forced to murder the dude, so he was going to be locked down for quite a while. Right now, he was looking at completing seventeen more of his twenty-five-year sentence.