by Wahida Clark
“That was it,” he told her as he stood to face her. “I’m finished Jaz, I told you I want to be retired when I turn thirty-five. I got a baby on the way. I got to pay them slimy-ass lawyers. We need a cushion. I just had that one run. You know you don’t want no broke-ass nigga.” He stopped himself and came close to her. “You don’t need to know any of this. Baby, I told you to let me do all the worrying.”
“Faheem, you’re taking too many chances. I know you had something to do with Brett, and now you’re making runs. With both of us in prison, having a cushion ain’t gonna do us no good. We won’t be able to spend it. They giving out fuckin’ life sentences like they going out of style. We go to jail, we lose everything. Even the baby.” She burst out crying.
“Trust me, baby.” He grabbed her. “I’m through. I’m not in jail. You’re not in jail. What’s wrong with you?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I’m scared. I’m mad at you. I’m mad at myself. I’m stressed. Since I’ve been pregnant I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster. I miss you. Do you want me to continue?”
“I love you, Jaz, and I’ll always have your back. You should know that by now.” He kissed her.
“I know that, Faheem. I’m just saying it would be fucked up if we both went to prison. And, I can’t be mad with nobody but myself.”
“You got me worried. You’re gonna have a nervous breakdown if you don’t stop. If something happens to my baby, Jaz, I’m gonna lose it. Then, you’ll have something to worry about. And you’re gonna be kicking yourself in the butt. You need to relax. Let me run you some bath water.”
He filled the tub with steaming water and jasmine-scented bubbles. He took off her clothes for her and put her in the tub. He sat beside the tub and sponged her down as he tried to get her to relax a little. When she got out the tub, he dried her off and oiled down her entire body. Then he gave her a full body massage until she was finally relaxed and began smiling.
“You want to go away this weekend?” he asked her.
“That would be nice.”
“You feel any better?” he asked as he stroked the hair between her legs.
“One hundred percent better. Thank you, Faheem. You are so good to me. You know you the shit, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” He inserted one finger into her pussy and started gently probing her. “I can’t believe that three days have passed since I got me some of this.”
“You slippin’, Faheem.”
“I’m getting ready to make up for it. Look how hard my dick is.” He lay on his back. “Get on top, baby. I want to see how much you miss me.”
“This is how I got pregnant in the first place. Missing you and gettin’ on top.” She eased down on his dick and started grinding nice and slow. Jaz let out a soft moan and they moved together, slow and sweet.
“I love you, Faheem.”
“Are you ready to be my wife?” he asked her, then started caressing her nipples with his tongue.
“Oooh, Faheem, don’t make me come yet,” she moaned. It was too late. Jaz’s breathing started getting heavier. She held him tight and pressed her hips into him. She kept repeating his name like it was music.
“Let it go, baby,” he told her as her clit pressed against him faster. Finally she let it go, screaming his name one more time. She held him tight, still trembling after she was done.
“Baby, answer my question. You ready to be my wife?”
“Yeah, baby, I am.”
Faheem held her close and caressed her growing stomach. His dick was getting hard, but just as he got ready to slide up in there again, the phone rang.
“Damn!” he groaned. He had been expecting a business call.
“Don’t answer it, baby.” She ran her tongue over his nipples.
“I have to. I’m expecting a call at 10:00.” He picked up the phone and rolled away from Jaz. “What up?” He picked his half a blunt out of the ashtray and lit it. “For when?…What time…Naw. No can do, man!”
Jaz rolled over and started kissing him on his stomach. He ran his fingers through her hair.
Kiss me! he mouthed while listening on the phone. She gave him a sloppy kiss, pulling on his bottom lip. Then she grabbed his dick.
“I’m not sure, man. How long?…Uh-huh.” She put his dick in her mouth. “Dayum, baby!” he said to Jaz. “Yeah, I’m still here,” he said into the phone. “Anything else? Okay, man. I’m out. Peace!”
He put down the receiver. “Shit, Jaz. This fuckin’ feels good!” He grabbed her head and held on tight. He closed his eyes and tried to push his dick in as far as he could.
“Oh, shit, Jaz.” He came hard. “God damn, baby. That was some good head. Who you been practicing on?”
“Fuck you, Faheem!” She got up.
“You know I’m playin’. Come here. Don’t get up!”
“I wanna take a shower.”
“Give me a kiss first.” She crawled in between his legs and he put his tongue deep into her mouth. The phone rang again.
“Damn! Can’t get no privacy.” He stuck two fingers inside her.
“Answer the phone, Faheem.”
“You the one who said let it ring.” He pulled his fingers out of her pussy and ran his tongue all around them. Jaz sat up and answered the phone.
“Hello?”
Faheem spread her thighs, then leaned over and put his tongue in as deep as it would go. He brought it out and circled her clit while she talked.
“I’m fine, Tommy.” Her voice was trembling a little as she arched her back. “I’ll get him. Hold on.” She placed the phone down on the bed. “Hurry baby, it’s for you.” She grabbed his head. “That feels good, baby. Faster, baby. That’s it. Oh, Fahe…” She came again. Faheem kissed her, then picked up the phone.
“Who dis?…Why you had to call now, man? This shit could have waited.” He watched Jaz get up and go toward the shower. “Hold on, man. I got another call.” He clicked over. “What up? Oh, hey, Angel. She in the shower…You can’t wait? What’s so important? A’ight, hold on.” He clicked back over to Tommy.
“I gotta go, man.” Then he clicked back to Angel.
“Angel. What happened?…Damn! Do Brian know?…God damn!…Hell, no. I can’t tell her this shit. Was she that fuckin’ depressed?…This is going to fuck her up. I can’t tell her this shit…I’m out. Peace.” He lay back on his pillow and worried about how Angel’s news was gonna hurt Jaz.
Jaz finally came out the bathroom. “Dry me off, Faheem.” She threw him the towel. “You are the shit. I can’t be mad at them hos for sweatin’ you.”
He grabbed her and hugged her real hard.
“I can’t breathe, Faheem. What’s the matter with you?”
“Baby, I got some bad news.” He kissed her forehead.
“What? What, Faheem? What happened?”
She started shaking. “Is it my mother?”
“No, baby. It’s your sister. Micki.”
“Oh, God. What she do, Faheem? Tell me what she did!” she screamed.
“She took the three girls up to the fourteenth floor of your grandmother’s building and made them all jump. All four of them are dead. I’m sorry, baby.”
Jaz fainted. When she woke up, she was in the maternity ward at the hospital. She had a monitor on her stomach, checking the baby’s heartbeat, and an IV stuck in her arm. She remained in there for almost two weeks. They wanted to keep an eye on her and the baby, since everyone was so worried about her mental state after the death of her sister and the kids.
Faheem was able to get them to postpone her trial for six more weeks. Jaz wasn’t holding up well. The doctors didn’t even allow her to go to the funeral. They said it would have been too much for her. Faheem hired her a couple of nurses to stay with her during the day.
When the trial finally started, Jaz was five months pregnant. Kyra was nine months, ready to have her baby any time. The trial lasted for two weeks. The so-called jury o
f her peers found Jasmine Denise Taylor guilty on all counts. She was sentenced to seventeen years in Federal custody.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
THUGS AND THE WOMEN WHO LOVE THEM
WAHIDA CLARK
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions are intended to enhance
your group’s reading of this book.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
Should Angel, a law student, be involved with Snake, a pimp?
Could Snake love Angel? Do you think he is serious about quitting the pimp game and settling down with her?
What do you have to say about Angel’s side hustle of writing checks? Is it hypocritical? Survival? Greed?
Can a 14-year-old, like Kyra, and 22-year-old Marvin be soul mates?
Are you angry at Marvin for getting her strung out on dope? Or does Kyra get the blame?
Is Kyra using Tyler?
What should Kyra have done when Marvin knocked on her door?
What kind of man is Faheem?
Was Jaz’s inviting Smooth over to Faheem’s house an innocent mistake?
Jaz refused to start a relationship with Faheem until he quit the drug game. She began making drugs/meth. Is she hypocritical or was it survival?
Which couple do you think has the most promise? Why do you think so?
Up Close and Personal with Wahida Clark. Author of the
Essence bestseller
Thugs and the Women Who Love Them.
What is the book about?
• Ghetto/street life, it’s reality fiction. The underground reading population seems to have an insatiable appetite for it.
What messages are you hoping to portray?
• Even though it’s reality fiction, for now I write to entertain and to make a living. When I have money, I’ll write to uplift.
Are you still incarcerated? Why were you incarcerated?
• Yes, I’m still on lock. My charges are conspiracy/money laundering, mail and wire fraud. My sentence is 125 months, that’s 101/2 years.
Where do you call home?
• New Jersey. Trenton to be exact. I had moved to the ATL and kicked it down there for four years. That’s where I caught my case. I loved it down there. Looking forward to going back.
Was your upbringing average?
• What’s average? I came up in the hood and you know how that is. Survival of the fittest, welfare, food stamps, government cheese, weed, boosting, partying. I had the average dysfunctional family (smile). I always had a roof over my head and clothes on my back. A single parent home in the projects, Donnelly Homes, until I was about nine or ten, then we moved to the West Side of town with my Aunt Ann and Uncle John. May he rest in peace. That was all love.
Who or what inspired you to be a writer?
• Who? My family. I’m a provider. What? The future. I’m confined but racking my brain trying to figure out how I can eat the day that I hit the bricks. I refuse to put myself in the situation when on that day, I’m trying to figure out how me and mines is gonna eat. That has to be already covered. So, my job at the time was prison librarian. And on days when we were short of help I would have to be there at 8 a.m. And nine times out of ten, I’d be in there all by myself. I would use that time to get caught up on my letter writing, magazine and book reading. In the magazines I would see the black authors and I would read their interviews. I told myself, “I can do that.” They would mention their struggles and I could relate.
Then I would look around at all the books on the shelves, admire the titles and the authors’ names and would visualize my name on the spine of a book on a bookshelf. That’s when it clicked. I decided that I would become a writer. I said its legal, its something that I can do and do now! Shortly afterward, a lady who used to be a literary agent (who was also an inmate where I was) had volunteered to give a Creative Writing Course. And the rest is history. It’s something how when you put those thoughts out there, the Universe takes over.
Why did you choose Thugs and the Women Who Love Them to write about?
• Actually, the story was originally supposed to be about four girls from the hood who vowed not to become victims of their environment. I wanted to show that they were strong and how they overcame hard trials and kept on striving. But as I kept writing, each of the female characters took on a life of her own, but it turned into Thugs and the Women Who Love Them in which the male characters sort of took over.
Snake was off the chain! What’s up with that?
• (Laughs) That style or mode of writing was my paying tribute to the trailblazers of ghetto fiction; Donald Goines, Iceberg Slim, Nathan ‘Booby’ Herd.
How do you feel about being in prison and writing such a powerful book?
• I’m glad it’s considered powerful (smile). As far as being in prison and writing a book: a sista had to do what a sista had to do! It wasn’t something that I actually planned to do, so that makes me feel good. And writing a hot novel while on lock makes it feel that much better. Especially when I get letters from brothas and sistas in my situation who say that I inspired them. Now, that’s what’s up!
Have there been many obstacles to overcome?
• With any new venture there are always gonna be obstacles. We should welcome obstacles. They are one of the things that make the great great, when we can overcome them to succeed. The great ones never make excuses as to why something can’t be done. Plus, I am blessed to have a wonderful team outside of these walls that allowed me to reach my goals much sooner than I could have without them. I have a very good team. I’m blessed.
Are there any beefs in the writing game similar to those in the music industry?
• It’s crazy, but yeah I’ve heard of several of which I have no understanding. Just because a reader is a fan of mine and buys my book, in no way does it mean that the same reader won’t go buy another author’s book. That’s ridiculous. There are too many good books out there to read, and like I mentioned earlier, the reader’s appetite is insatiable. Us authors can’t get our books out fast enough to satisfy their appetites. And that’s a good thing. There is enough money out there for all of us. You feel me? I recall teasing an author, telling him since he blew up he can’t write a sista no more. He said you down with the enemy, referring to another author. All I could do was laugh. Unbelievable! I said I’m in prison. I know you’re not threatened. I’m a fan of yours!
Do you have future projects coming our way?
• Definitely. There is my third project that’s FIRE, called Payback Is a Mutha. Then my fourth joint, is a short story called “Enemy in My Bed.” And I got Part III to my Thug series, the book after the sequel Every Thug Needs a Lady! Everybody’s dying (hint, hint) to know what happens to Snake, Trae and Kaylin. You know I like to keep my peeps hangin’, anticipatin’ and feenin’ for my next joint. The title is Payback Is a Mutha was originally called Don’t Knock Tha’ Hustle but someone else got that title.
Do you think one or more of your books may end up on the screen and stage?
• Oh, fo’ sho’! That’s one of my goals. I would like Roc-A-Fella Films to holla at a sista as well as a few others. You know who you are!
Are you coming home soon?
• I’m presently waiting for an answer from my 2255 motion. I took my case to trial and lost. That’s right. This sista here lives by the code: Death before dishonor. However, I lost two appeals and worse case scenario, I can’t hit the bricks until ’07. But I’m claiming ’05 especially with these new Supreme Court decisions Blakely vs. Washington and Booker & FanFan.
I take it that you don’t have no love for snitches?
• Not at all. When everything is good, they eatin’, ballin’, bills are getting paid, they are taking care of their families, it’s all gravy and they are happy to play their part. But as soon as the shit hits the fan their weakness and hypocrisy gets put on blast. The sad thing is without snitches the government ninety-eight percent of the time doesn’t have a case. Snitches tell shit
that the government wasn’t even aware of. If everyone on my case would have stood tall, we all would have walked.
What were you into before you were incarcerated?
• Running my businesses and working. Ironically, working is how I caught my case.
Has your time in prison affected your views on life?
• Definitely. I appreciate being with and having a family that much more. I no longer take the simple things in life for granted. Freedom. My physical freedom is truly valued. If you have been locked down or did time with a loved one, you understand what I’m saying.
I heard you hung out with Martha Stewart. What is she like?
• I didn’t hang out with her. I met with her on several occasions in an attempt to put together a business seminar, with her allowing us to pick her brain. And I met with her to go over my business plan for my publishing company. She gave me some very valuable feedback. Martha is cool. She did her little five months like a trooper and was always willing to help you out if she could. Plus, my agent used to date her niece and told Martha to look me up when she got here. Which she did. The first day she hit the compound she was asking who knows Wahida Clark. By that evening I had got the message, and I went to meet her. I thought she was going to be standoffish. But, to my surprise, she was the total opposite.
How did the inmates treat her? Were they hatin’?
• Like I said, I didn’t hang with her. Whenever I got with her it was always on a business tip. So I didn’t always see how the rest of the population was treating her. You always gonna have your haters and I would hear different comments. But me? I’m not a hater. I’m a congratulator. I’m trying to get where she is. She is big time. Certified gangster for real. Whenever you can do time and turn on the preview channel and see your TV show getting ready to air: that’s big! Whenever you can do time and your magazine is coming out every month: that’s big! Whenever you can do time and two major retail chains carry your products, merge and you make a billion: that’s big! Whenever you can do time and your stock from your company is steadily rising: that’s big! Whenever you can do time and when you set your foot out the gate a TV show is waiting for you: that’s big! Whenever you can do time and bounce on your own private jet: that’s big! I’m sure you get my point. I think she’s a brilliant businesswoman.