Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series)

by Jessica Watkins

  He pressed up against me, put his hands between my legs, and began to massage my sex pot through my jeggings.

  I purred into his ear. “You better not. But he took it all from me. What am I suppose to do while you’re gone?”

  “Daddy’ll give you whatever you want, baby.”

  I smiled mischievously as he began to pull my jeggings off. I guided him towards the stairway, sat him down, pulled his boxers to the side, and prayed that this shit would work.

  Fyte was very surprised to hear from me so soon. He thought that it would take me days to get it accomplished, but when I told him that I had caught Tricey drunk at a get together at her condo, he was more than happy to meet me back at the precinct.

  That fat slob had that same narcissistic grin on his face, and I was so happy to be the person to make it go away.

  I reached into my purse, took the wire out, and sat it on his desk. He smiled so pleasingly that I feared how upset he would be when I told him what was actually on the tape.

  I assumed that he would be so angry that his obsession with arresting Blood would only get deeper.

  “Nice doing business with you,” he said slyly.

  Standing in front of his desk with my arms folded, I smiled mischievously. “It was a pleasure. And I am sure you will find great pleasure in listening to the undercover officer that you have working for Blood supply me with coke and fuck my brains out.”

  The fact that he was speechless let me know that I was right and that maybe this was going to work. The fact that he looked as if he’d just shit his pants let me know that just maybe I had kept from defying my friend and saved my ass.

  “Yep.” I was damn near singing. “Your undercover officer, Derrick ‘Jackson’, should really take that name plate off of his desk if you are going to be hauling the chick, that he screws on a regular basis, in here to blackmail her.”

  Fyte continued to sit perplexed. Rage seemed to be building on the surface of his skin, along with a lot of embarrassment. His dark, oily, and aged skin was turning red right before my eyes.

  “I may get high, but I’m not stupid, Lieutenant Fyte,” I told him. “Apparently, besides sharing with you that I have a coke habit, Derrick didn’t tell you that he was my supplier, since he is not only buying this shit from Blood to set him up, but selling it too. So, if you can arrest me for having drugs that one of your fine Chicago Police Department detectives gave me while he was sleeping with me and selling coke during an undercover operation, you go right ahead. Otherwise, if you want Blood, you gone have to get him yourself.”

  His continued silence told me that I was free to leave. I hoped that I assumed right as I stormed out of the office. I hoped that he wouldn’t figure out a way to further manipulate me as I quickly walked out of the precinct.

  My cell phone was in my hand before I knew it. I was blowing up Tricey’s phone. I had to let her know about Derrick as soon as possible. Yet, after I called over ten times and knew that she was probably in a drunken coma by now, I gave up and went by the condo to ring the bell and wake them up. Those efforts were useless as well since my buzzes went unanswered.

  It was now four in the morning and I was exhausted, so I gave up and headed towards Vince’s place, hoping that he wasn’t so pissed that I couldn’t talk my way out of disappearing for hours on end. I figured that at this point, since Fyte went to the extremes of using me to get evidence on Blood, he had nothing to use on him, so if I waited a few hours to talk to Tricey, things would still be okay. Besides, since I made Derrick, Fyte would be sure to take him out of Blood’s crew, if he was smart.

  Luckily, I figured as much, so before I tiptoed out of Derrick’s place, I cuffed a shitload of ounces from his stash while he was sleeping.

  As I got on the expressway, looked in my rearview mirror and saw nothing but the city, no police lights or unmarked cars, an immense amount of pressure lifted from my shoulders and I was finally able to breathe. I couldn’t believe that I had allowed this habit to get me caught up in such bullshit.

  Yet, the taste of it was still in my mouth. I couldn’t wait to get to Vince’s and taste my sweet relief so that my mind could fully ease.

  I knew that it was so stupid for me to even consider getting high after what I had just been through, but that’s why it’s called a habit.

  TRICEY

  I fought to figure out what Vic was saying.

  She was talking so fast that I couldn’t make out a word of it. The doorbell woke me and Blood up from a very drunken sleep a few minutes ago. Of course, it was Devin, so I got back in the bed and let Blood entertain his company.

  I was lying in the dark waiting to fall back to sleep when my cell phone rang. When I answered, Vic was rambling nonstop.

  “Vic, slow down. I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “Derrick is the police!”

  I sat straight up. “Huh?!”

  “Derrick is the police! He is a CPD detective.”

  I chuckled as I told her, “No, he’s not.”

  “Yes, he is!”

  “How do you know?”

  “Well.” Then Vic hesitated for a few seconds. “My car got broken into yesterday, so I went to the station to file a report. I saw a desk with a name plate on it, Detective Gachett. Even though Derrick told me that his last name is Jackson, I recognized the name because it’s been on a few pieces of mail at his crib. Don’t too many black people got that last name! Then I saw him at the station, but he didn’t see me.”

  “Oh my God…”

  “I know! You gotta tell Blood!”

  “Do you think he’s a crooked cop, or you think he’s an undercover?”

  “Both, shit!”

  My heart began to beat a mile a minute. Derrick being an undercover was totally plausible. I could imagine that Blood was on the State’s radar, especially after he beat those charges last year. Thankfully, anytime anyone copped weight from Blood, it was through the hands of his other employees, never his.

  “Let me call you back, Vic.”

  As I said my goodbyes to Vic, I hopped out of bed and threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Then, I went into the front of the condo in search of Blood, hoping that Devin was still here as well.

  I was totally ready to blame Devin for this. Derrick was connected to Blood through Devin, so Devin should have been much more careful with who he was bringing into this organization.

  We just got Blood back, and I be damned if he had to go away again because Devin let an undercover into his cart.

  I found Blood and Devin on the balcony. I knew that they were talking business that wasn’t for my ears since Blood took him out there. Regardless, I knocked on the balcony door before opening it. Then I leaned into the doorway.

  “What’s up, baby?”

  Things were starting to slowly get better between me and Blood. Over the past few weeks, he was slowly becoming the man that I use to know. We weren’t quite there yet, so I didn’t need any drama further fucking up this household.

  “I just got off the phone with Vic. She said that Derrick is the police. He’s an undercover.”

  When I thought that Blood would shit his pants, it was Devin who reacted in the way that I expected Blood to.

  “What the fuck?! Man, he ain’t the cops!”

  I asked Devin, “How do you know?”

  “That’s my nigga. He’s not the cops.”

  Blood looked at me, more calmly than I would expect him to. “How does Vic know?”

  Devin spoke up again before I could answer. “She don’t know, because he ain’t the cops!”

  I ignored Devin and spoke to Blood. “She was in the police station filing a report and saw him, along with a nameplate that she recognized from some mail in his house.”

  Devin rolled his eyes and waved his hand as if to dismiss me. “That bitch lyin’.”

  “Excuse me?!”

  “She was probably high and tweakin’.”

  The more Devin spoke, the more pis
sed off I got, so pissed that I wasn’t even waiting for Blood to take up for me or Vic. “Watch your mouth.”

  “Man, Vic is tweakin’, fam,” Devin told Blood. He’d totally redirected his attention to Blood. “Derrick told me that Vic do lines on a regular. Ain’t no tellin’ what type of shit she on.”

  “And obviously that motherfucka is lying to you about that as well since he failed to mention to you that he is the motherfuckin’ police!”

  Blood reached his arm out to silence me and calm me down. “Baby,” he warned me.

  “What are you going to do, bae? Obviously, somebody is investigating you! I…”

  “Calm down, baby. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding,” Blood told me. “Go back in the house.”

  “But…”

  “I got this. I’ll look into it. Just go back in the house.”

  Twelve

  Thursday, June 23, 2011

  TRICEY

  After that, things went right back to normal. It was like I hadn’t said nothing and Vic hadn’t seen anything.

  Every time I asked Blood did he find out anything about Derrick, his response was only that he was on top of it and was taking care of things.

  However, when Vic picked me up for court Thursday morning, she told me that Derrick had disappeared.

  “I haven’t heard from him,” she told me as we parked the car in the court parking lot. “He told me that he was going on vacation, but it’s not like him not to call or at least text me. He was supposed to be back yesterday, but I haven’t heard from him. It’s like he just fell off the face of the earth.”

  Just seeing the courthouse put a gut wrenching feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was nervous to testify, and I was nervous that, if Blood did or didn’t do something about Derrick, that I would be spending even more time in courts than I wanted to.

  “Have you tried to contact him?”

  Vic frowned as she turned her car off. “Hell no.”

  I blew my breath in frustration.

  Yea, something definitely was up.

  “What did Blood say?”

  “That he was going to take care of it.”

  “Maybe he did.”

  “That’s the scary part,” I said with a sigh. “But I doubt it. Devin was adamant against believing it.”

  “I know what I saw.”

  “He even tried to say that you were tweaking. Told us that Derrick told him that you get high.”

  Vic was appalled. “High off what?!”

  “Coke.”

  As we got out of the car, Vic started cracking up laughing.

  “I know, right?” I was laughing as well. “Niggas will go to the extreme to defend their boys.”

  “Now I will take a Valium every now and then. I am a true fan of prescription drugs,” Vic said still laughing. “But coke? Nah. I can’t afford that shit anyway.”

  Two hours later, I was standing in the witness stand, with my right hand on the bible, the other in the air, and swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  I asked God to forgive me for lying as my hand lay on His word, because I was ready and willing to say whatever I needed to to get my sister off, even lie.

  Mr. Reed began by asking me general questions about Star; what kind of sister she was, how our relationship was, how dedicated of a mother she was, her progress in nursing school, and her devotion to her family.

  I sat in a black Anne Klein jacket and pencil skirt, looking as moderate and subdued as I could in very little make-up, low three inch heels, my hair pulled back in a bun, and attempting to sound as sophisticated as my education taught me to. I tried to leave the “Black Kardashian” at home that day. I wanted to exude as less sex appeal as possible. I didn’t want to look threatening to the female jury or typical to the males. I wanted to look mature and trusting; though on the inside, I was as intimidated as a toddler and was totally prepared to lie my ass off.

  For forty-five minutes, Mr. Reed questioned me about Star’s character; did she have a past of being volatile, had she ever been in trouble before, had she ever been in any fights in grammar and high school. I smiled at my sister lovingly as I told the courtroom, in particularly the jury, how sweet my sister was, how loving of a mother she was, and how determined she was not to become a statistic. I giggled as I told them no matter how much we verbally abused each other as little girls, we’d never laid hands on each other because my mother didn’t raise us like that.

  “Did you know that she was an escort?”

  I wanted to wipe the floor with her face when that was the State’s Attorney’s first question during cross examination.

  Star seemed to crumble in her seat at the mention of it.

  Thankfully, Mr. Reed had already prepped me. He told me that the State would bring up some embarrassing things about Star, some that I knew and some that I wouldn’t care to know, but I was to act as if I wasn’t swayed, surprised, or ashamed regardless.

  “Yes,” I lied. “I knew that she was escorting.”

  “How can you say how wonderful of a mother she is if she was selling her body?”

  “Because one has nothing to do with the other.”

  The State’s Attorney laughed cynically. “They definitely do.”

  Mr. Reed jumped to his feet. “Objection!”

  “Sustained.”

  “Well, let me ask you this, Latrice. Rather than escorting, why didn’t she obtain more of a …. honorable … or even legal job than escorting?”

  Calmly, I answered, “Since I am not Star, I cannot answer that question for you. You would have to ask Star.”

  Mr. Reed was looking at me so anxiously that you would have thought he was the one on trial. I knew that he was nervously awaiting my fate, to see if the State’s Attorney was successful at tripping me up.

  “But you are the character witness,” she rebutted. “You are on the stand to speak to her character, so, yes, you can answer the question.”

  On the inside, I was steaming. Yet, on the outside, I smiled at my sister tenderly and spoke honestly. “I could only imagine that Star was doing what she felt necessary to take care of herself and her child.”

  “So, in saying that, wouldn’t drug trafficking and robbery be included in doing what she felt necessary to take care of herself and her son…”

  “Objection! Ms. Anderson can’t be expected to answer that. That’s speculation!”

  “Your Honor, the witness is here to speak on the Defendants character. “

  I tried to stay calm, but my mind was racing. I’d allowed this bitch to turn my words around, and I had to say the right thing to fix it.

  “Overruled.”

  Mr. Reed was mortified. “Your Honor!”

  “Overruled! You may answer the question, Ms. Anderson.”

  I felt like everybody in that courtroom was waiting to see what I would say. Literally, everyone’s attention was on my lips and what they were about to say.

  “My sister is a good person; though she is not perfect and has made mistakes, she is a good person who was raised right. And though I may not know why she found herself in these circumstances, I do know how she was raised, and I therefore know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would never willingly have a first hand in drugs or killing anyone.”

  STAR

  Court was traumatizing.

  Tricey didn’t say anything terribly wrong, but, honestly, her truth didn’t help me either, because there was no way that she could lie and say that I wasn’t guilty of murdering two people.

  Oddly, I was finding more comfort in being behind bars. The anxiety of the outside was suffocating to me. As I walked back into the prison, I felt at ease and strangely at peace.

  I knew that the only place to find quiet was the library. Usually, there were only two or three prisoners in the room that fit twenty to capacity, one being the prisoner that worked as the librarian.

  Just my luck, the library was empty, so I found an aisle of books far in th
e back of the room and just sat on the stool with my head in my hands. I absorbed the peace and quiet and fought tears that surprised me. The anxiety of this trial was getting to me. I just wanted to know- Would I be given more time? Would I ever be free again?

  I asked myself these questions because, if it wasn’t evident before, after today, it was obvious that one thing couldn’t be denied to that jury; I killed two people. Whether by association or by my own hands, I killed two people that did not deserve to die.

  With my arms over my head and my head between my knees, I fought to keep the noises of the animals outside from creeping into the quietness of the library. Yet, it was impossible. Their catcalls, obscenities, and insults intertwined with my prayers to God that asked him for contentment.

  A terrible banging sound could be heard despite my efforts.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  And I wondered was it someone’s death that I was hearing.

  The tension of being caught between freedom and imprisonment was getting to me more than serving time ever had, and I was ready to go back to what I’d grown to know.

  I missed Dawn and wondered why.

  I missed Malik and couldn’t believe it.

  I needed the familiarity and comfort of them, even if I had to get it behind the gloomiest four walls that anyone could imagine.

  I was ready to go back. This grey area that I was stuck in was frightening and suffocating, and I wanted out; no matter where it took me.

  Their animalistic noises entered my thoughts again and I pressed my arms around my head tighter; trying desperately to become deaf.

  I wondered how much longer I would be subjected to this hellhole that I wasn’t use to and when I could go back to the hellhole that had grown comforting to me.

  I never knew how accustomed I’d gotten to being in prison until they took me out of prison.

  TRICEY

  Amiel’s room was dark and still.

  As I lay Ariana down on the bed, I wished that I could lie beside her and enjoy the quiet.

  Court had left me feeling so uneasy that my mind was rambling loudly with doubt, and I desperately wanted it to be quiet.