The Streets Bleed Murder Box Set

by Jerry Jackson

  The day he received the four pounds, Veedo swore his loyalty to Gangsta. He promised not to look back, not to break stride, and not to fall short. Veedo hit the streets serving ounce after ounce of purp to the strip club people and the hip-hop club jumpers.

  By the time Veedo was ready to pay Gangsta for the love he showed, he was shocked when Gangsta dumped ninety thousand pills on him. He told him, Don’t slang these in the A. He left, and Veedo understood. What truly confirmed that he shouldn’t slang the pills in the city is when word travelled through the street that Pat Man got took off and his bitch was murked in their home. Veedo always admired Teyummie.

  After Veedo pissed, washed his face, and brushed his mouthful of gold teeth, he walked naked back into the room.

  Atlanta was turning into a war zone because Pat Man was out for answers and killing anybody he thought was capable of such an act. Since Veedo was out of weed, he decided he had sat on the pills long enough, and it was time to find a spot in the country to push the pills.

  He found his Joe Boxer briefs and put them on, then took a seat at the end of the bed to roll up a blunt of Kush.

  After rolling and putting fire to his blunt, he picked up his phone to check the messages and missed calls. I need a weed connect, he calmly thought to himself while scrolling through his contents.

  “Daddy, I’m hungry.”

  Veedo looked up to see his youngest daughter standing in the doorway. With a smile on his face, he tossed the phone to the side and looked at his pride and joy. He was happy to be able to take care of his seed.

  “Go get yo’ brother up and y’all get dressed.”

  ***

  Kash

  “Man, ain’t no muthafuckin’ way,” Kash shouted and punched the hard plastic window in the holding cell. He had to be removed from the courtroom because he snapped when the district attorney brought up another charge on him. They had the body he buried with Dank. Dank is a low-down, dirty mutha’fucka, Kash thought as he fumed in the holding cell. He couldn’t believe the shit that was going on around him.

  Gangsta had just gone down the road the night before, so he wasn’t around to let his partna lay the drama down to him. Kash was madder than he’d ever been in his life. He wanted to break Dank’s neck for the sucka shit he was pulling.

  Thirty minutes later, the officers came to his holding cell and cuffed him up. They escorted him to another empty holding cell where a team of lawyers awaited him. The officers stepped out of the holding cell to give him some privacy.

  “Man, what da fuck is going on?” Kash asked, still in handcuffs.

  “Your co-defendant has worked a deal with the D.A.”

  “Man, he lying!”

  “Yes, we are sure he is, and we are working extremely hard to prove this to the courts. We know for sure two of the five murders will get thrown out, and if they can’t connect you to this recent charge physically, you will also get out, because Dank’s word alone will not convict you,” the lawyer said, and that statement alone made Kash calm down.

  “Ok, so when do we start knocking this shit off?”

  “We start today. When we walk back into the courtroom, please hold your quick temper and let us do all the talking. Do not butt in or stand up and shout what you think or what you see fit, ok?”

  “Alright, let’s do it,” Kash replied.

  Kash knew he had just showed out in the courtroom minutes ago, but he was shocked about a new murder charge that was years old. He saw his mother breakdown and cry. He saw his kids’ mother holding them as they cried their eyes out. He even saw Erica in an emotional state of shock. He just snapped and let his anger override his intellect.

  “Okay, give us a minute to speak to the judge and the D.A. so we can proceed with the hearing.”

  ***

  Gangsta

  One Month Later

  He heard her pick up the phone and accept the call. He missed everything about this woman.

  “Hello,” NeNe said.

  “’Sup, baby?”

  “Nothing much, just missing you, that’s all. I heard the good news,” she replied.

  “Yeah, I know my ma told you,” Gangsta shot back.

  Last week his charges concerning the Danny case were dropped. Kash’s case was also thrown out, but now Gangsta had a fresh murder charge and witnesses saying it was him. This news he didn’t share with NeNe just yet.

  He’d been at Calhoun State Prison for a month, and he was truly homesick. He was missing his family and friends like crazy and wanted to be free. He could nearly taste freedom on the tip of his tongue.

  “Did you get the pictures?” she asked.

  “I did, and as a matter of fact I’m holding them right now.” They were pictures of her and Erica at different places.

  “Okay, well, Kash’s trial is over already.”

  “Fo’ real?” he asked with shock.

  Kash’s trial had only been going on for six days.

  “Yeah, it over, and he got life.”

  “Why?”

  Gangsta was confused and hurt behind the news.

  “They stopped the trial and asked him if he would plead out to life, and he did.”

  “Damn.”

  “I know, baby. So, will your parole officer let you out now that you have beat the case?” she asked with excitement in her voice.

  “Hell yeah. I’ve gotta talk to my lawyer, and hopefully he can get my parole officer to release me.”

  Gangsta wasn’t ready to break the heartbreaking news to NeNe, so he lied with regret.

  After hanging up the phone, Gangsta walked down the hall to the TV room where a couple of guys were seated around a table playing a game of chess. A fair crowd of inmates sat in front of the TV while one dude was off by himself in the corner shining his state-issued prison boots. All this reminded Gangsta that he was indeed in the system again, so he might as well get used to it until his fate was passed down. He calmly walked out and back to his assigned cell. Most guys inside his pod were returning from the yard, and then lunch was being called for their entire pod.

  Inmates were instructed to walk in a single file line, and they were not supposed to talk, although most guys did. Some didn’t, and Gangsta wasn’t among most. Dank had already proven that he couldn’t trust no man. From the day Dank betrayed him forward, Gangsta stuck with that code.

  They only had five minutes to eat, and the food was not good at all, but he forced every spoonful down because he couldn’t make store call until next week. He vowed to never eat out of the chow hall again once he did make store call.

  Gangsta ate as fast as he could and then put the tray through a tray room flap. Then he stepped into the line that led back to the pod. Some dudes went straight to the TV room, some went to get cards for a game of spades, and some went to take a shower. Gangsta went to the phone.

  He called his lawyer to see if there were any new updates about his case. He got no answer when he called, so he dialed his mother’s number. He waited for her to accept the call, and then he heard her laughing with somebody in the background.

  “Ma?”

  “Hey, baby, what’s the name of that prison again?” she asked.

  “Calhoun,” Gangsta replied.

  “Okay, Terry and me want to get down there, and this girl is stressing bad. I told her to stop before she lost that baby.”

  “I know, right. Have you talked to my lawyer yet?”

  “Yes, the D.A. wants you to stand trial.”

  Gangsta did not want to hear his mother say those words, but he embraced the fact.

  “Man—”

  “Your lawyer said he will be to see you first thing tomorrow because he has to discuss some of this stuff with you personally. He said you’re lucky, boy, and Gary, I truly hope you have learned your lesson.”

  “I have, Ma.”

  The next day, Gangsta was led to the warden’s office to sit down with Michael Swinn, who was dressed to impress and awaiting him with a firm handshake and big
smile on his face. He passed Gangsta a thick folder, so he took it and sat down.

  “What’s this?” Gangsta asked.

  “It’s a case dismissal. The ‘94 case from middle school was dropped because there was no evidence to link you to it, but if you turn the page, you will see two witnesses. The first one is Kia Knight, A.K.A. Kay Kay, and the second one is Amanda Brown, A.K.A. Slim. Both of the females said they talked with you minutes before you shot and killed Gerald Blackshift, and the district attorney wants a trial.”

  Gangsta took in all he had just heard and sat there in thought. If Dank didn’t open his mouth, then he was safe on home plate, but this pussy nigga had snitched his way to a manslaughter charge.

  “So, when does the trial start?” he asked.

  ***

  NeNe

  The room was cold, but crowded. It was very loud in there with so many different people talking at one time. She noticed the floors were shined and clean. She could look down and see her own reflection in the floor. A small table sat in front of her, and on the other side of the table was an empty chair. NeNe was excited, but also nervous. She held herself and bounced her knees up and down, while she continued to wait. She noticed that guys who were locked up wore white pants with blue stripes, and some wore black boots and others white shoes. She saw kids playing and crying while mothers attended to them. NeNe’s eyes wouldn’t stay away from the door. She saw where the inmates entered. She saw them pass their I.D. card to the officer who sat at a wooden table, and then the inmates would proceed to find their appointed table where they would embrace their family.

  NeNe was elated that she would finally be able to hold her man after almost four months. In the county jail visitors and inmates were separated by glass, so she had to wait until he got to prison and got her approved on his visitor list before she had a chance to touch him. The letters he wrote were always nice to read. The phone conversations they held always consoled her for the moment, but there wasn’t anything better than physical contact. She wanted to be able to kiss him like she’s saw so many inmates kiss and hug their girlfriends, baby’s mothers, or wives.

  Today she wore jeans by Apple Bottom, the shirt to match, and a pair of flats on her small feet. Her hair was in micro braids with just a touch of lipgloss. She was holding a clear bag filled with change, which is something Gangsta constantly told her to bring if she visited him so she could buy him food and drinks.

  Nervous, she sat there and wondered how the visit would go. Would he be nervous as she was? Would he be happy to see her? Would he be too nervous to hold her or to kiss her? All these thoughts ran through her mind while sitting there, and even while she was driving down the road that early morning.

  Gangsta entered the room, and when NeNe saw him, her heart skipped a beat. He didn’t notice NeNe seated in the back. He looked so good to her. She wanted to get up and run into his arms badly. She saw him looking to find her, so she raised her hand up high and waved him over. NeNe saw his smile. She loved his smile, and she loved how he walked toward her. She stood up, and all of a sudden she was scared for some reason, but she didn’t know why. When only inches away from her, Gangsta pulled NeNe into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he grabbed a handful of booty. He kissed her neck, her jaw, and then her lips.

  His lips were ever so soft, and their tongues found one another for a brief moment, then they both broke away.

  He stared into her eyes and then kissed her again and again before saying, “Damn, I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too!” NeNe smiled, and goosebumps covered her entire body for a strange reason as they both took their seats.

  Damn, he looks great, she thought to herself.

  “How was the ride?”

  “Long, and I got lost twice. It’s almost four hours, baby.”

  “I know.” Gangsta reached across the table to take hold of her hands. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. I got that money from Veedo.”

  “Okay, cool,” Gangsta replied, and picked up the clear bag full of change. “Go get something to drink and some chips real fast.”

  “What do you want?” NeNe asked.

  “Whatever you want your nigga to eat,” he shot back, and that got a smile out of her.

  She stood up to do as he asked. When she walked past him, Gangsta lightly slapped her booty. NeNe had on a thong, and when he did that it made her ass bounce. NeNe hated the fact that other dudes stared her down as if she was fresh meat or something. It made her think they could attack her at any time. She grabbed two sodas, a burger, two hot wing plates, a bag of chips, and a pack of Starburst candy. She walked back to the table and placed everything down, and then she took the wings to warm them up. Minutes later, after NeNe came back with the food, Gangsta wasted no time eating while looking across the table at her.

  “What’s up with yo’ sister? Has she holla’d at Kash yet?”

  “Yeah, he called last night. He’s in Smith State Prison. He told Erica he does not like it there, and I gave him your address to write you.”

  “A’ight.”

  NeNe looked at her man for a moment. She was happy to see him, and she was happy she got the chance to touch him. She clasped her hands together and locked in on his features, and then she let what she was holding in out.

  “Baby,” she paused, took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

  Gangsta looked up and dropped his burger on the table.

  “Fo’ real?”

  She saw he was happy, which made her smile, because ever since she found out she was pregnant, NeNe had been going crazy about telling him. She was going crazy even though during the lovemaking he said he wanted her to have his baby. She knew in the heat of the moment guys would say anything.

  “I’m too lucky. Damn, I love you, girl.”

  “I love you, too. I’m seventeen and a half weeks,” she boasted.

  “How long have you known, NeNe?”

  Gangsta reached across the table and took her hands in his own.

  “I’ve known for a while, but I was scared. I didn’t know what you would’ve thought.”

  “I think you’re wonderful, amazing, and I’m in love.”

  “I think you are, too, baby.”

  Chapter 13

  Gangsta

  He was housed on the east side of the prison in Pod J, Building 2, and it was said to be the bad pod over the compound, but he feared nothing, especially not prison. When Gangsta came through the gates after visitation, people were on the yard. He walked with his head held high and he felt great. He was at Calhoun State Prison, and had been there three weeks. Gangsta knew a few of the guys at the prison, plus Atlanta niggas was deep. He liked the camp because it had a lot of females who worked there and most of the inmates at the prison stayed into wild shit.

  Gangsta made a left coming up by the gym. He decided to go the long way to his pod so he could stop and holla at his detail boss, Ms. Bell, who worked in the kitchen. She had every nigga on compound gawking at her because she was young and beautiful. She paid the inmates no attention, and that was something Gangsta liked about her. Gangsta was cool with her because of his hard work and skills in the bakery. Plus, the director of the kitchen — an older lady named Ms. Smith — loved Gangsta as if he was her son.

  “Say, bruh,” a dude said as he caught up with Gangsta while he was walking.

  Gangsta turned to see his Atlanta partna inside the fenced-in yard.

  “What’s up, bruh?”

  “Who came to visit you?” Jay asked.

  He was one laid back cat whom Gangsta respected. He’d been at Calhoun for six years. He was the man when it came to hos and drugs. Plus, Gangsta liked the way he handled business. He kept a crew of young niggas on the go.

  “My lil’ ho. What’s up wit’cha, though?”

  Gangsta stopped in front of the fence. He stuck two fingers through the gate and Jay met him with two fingers where they dapped each other up. Jay proceeded to roll up a
joint to smoke. It took him a quick two minutes to get the weed twisted. He passed the joint and a lighter to Gangsta, who in return put some fire to the end. He hit it four times before passing it back.

  “I’m on deck with the mid,” Jay said as he hit the joint hard.

  “Okay, I’ma fuck with you ‘bout that on da last yard,” Gangsta replied, because they weren’t in the same pod.

  Jay was housed in G2, where all the females worked first, second, and third shift seven days a week.

  Gangsta walked off as they both noticed the lieutenant coming through the gate. He made his way around by the kitchen. When he got there, he looked through the tinted windows and spotted Tim. Tim was an old white guy who Ms. Smith also liked as much as she liked Gangsta. Gangsta waved him over.

  “What’s up?” he mouthed through the glass.

  “Who working?” Gangsta asked while doing more hand movement than talking.

  “Ms. Bell and Ms. Smith.”

  “Go get Ms. Smith,” Gangsta said, and then he saw Tim run into the back and disappear.

  The weed had already taken effect on him, so he leaned against the building and waited.

  Three minutes passed, and then he heard keys in the door before it came open. Ms. Bell stepped out. She was a honey-colored, 5’2” female with a soft face. She had full, kissable lips and big brown eyes. Her body was A1 on a scale from one to ten. She was a dime, and she was no older than twenty-six years old. She had a small waist, flat stomach, and a phat ass.

  “What do you want, Jackson?”

  “Where Ms. Smith at?”

  “She’s busy, and she wants you to come make this bread ‘cause Pete got locked down last night.”

  “Okay, I’ma come after count. My football team is finna play. Call my pod officer and let them know to send me up,” Gangsta said.

  “Okay, I’m ‘bout to go before I lock one of these lames up,” Ms. Bell said while looking over his shoulder.

  He already knew a nigga had to be jacking his dick, so he just walked off and didn’t look back. Gangsta knew this was part of how the chain gang went. There were niggas who did their time jackin’ their dicks, niggas who fucked niggas, and niggas who acted like females. Prison was considered a different part of the world. It had its own place of judgment, and it was a place Gangsta couldn’t wait to leave.