The jury didn’t convict him, and he was finally a free man.
“I will do it first thing tomorrow, son,” the lawyer informed him.
“Okay, bet that,” Gangsta said with joy in his every word.
The officers led him out of the courtroom. NeNe came to his mind, and he knew she would be overly happy. Now she could stop stressing over him getting a life sentence. His only issue now was telling both NeNe and Terry about each other. He knew it had to be done because his kids would know each other. Plus, the children’s ages wouldn’t be that far apart. Terry was seven months pregnant and NeNe was four or five months pregnant. Somebody was going to get their feelings hurt and both were sure to get mad at him, but he made his bed, so now he had to lie in it. Gangsta was put in the holding cell with a few more inmates who were eager to know his fate.
“What happened, homie?” one dude asked once the cell door closed.
He was one of the few inmates who Gangsta chopped it up with.
“Not guilty, fool.”
“Now, that’s what’s up.”
Everybody inside the small cell clapped their hands and showed him some love.
It wasn’t long before Gangsta was shipped back to Calhoun with the bad news that his probation officer was keeping him in prison. He wanted eighteen months, and then he would clear him from probation. Gangsta rolled with it, being that he was already four months in.
He got another surprise when he got to intake and was locked down on pending investigation
“What da fuck,” Gangsta said when the cert team told him to place his hand behind his back.
“Per the warden, you’re on P.I.,” one cool cert team member said.
“For what?”
“I don’t even know, big guy. I’m just doing my job.”
Gangsta couldn’t believe this, but he kind of knew what it was about. It could only be one thing, so he went ahead and cuffed up, because the last thing he wanted to do was catch another charge.
He was placed in J1 until the warden came to see him. Gangsta wasn’t feeling confinement, but dealt with it. He placed all his property into his locker box and made up the bunk before dropping down to his knees in a prayer of thankfulness.
***
Three Weeks Later
“New arrivals report to the counselor’s area,” the pod officer yelled as Gangsta was in his cell playing tunk for food with his cellie. It was his second day at Macon State Prison. He was transferred because of his relationship with Ms. Bell. The prison couldn’t catch them, so they just shipped him ‘cause they didn’t have probable cause to fire Ms. Bell.
He paused his game and got up.
“I’ll be back, pimp,” he said and grabbed his state-issued shirt. Gangsta made his way to the control booth where a short, fat white woman waited for him and five more inmates to report out. He could tell she was police by her demeanor, so he humbly passed her his ID and got signed out.
Gangsta knew a couple of dudes from his first bid, so he was stopped a few times in passing, but he kept it light. He truly did not care to kick it, because his brother was on the other side of the prison and he needed to get at him. He needed to see his folks. They needed to vent, and they needed to catch up on old times.
The counselor’s area was up front between the east side and west side of the prison. When all six inmates walked into the room, it was cool and clean. Everywhere Gangsta looked he saw bad bitches of all sizes and shapes. They ranged from the mailroom lady to the mental health doctor to the GP counselors. There were three standing in a group by a table assigned for the inmates. Gangsta noticed a tall black dude placing paperwork in each chair that surrounded the table. He was fresh in bright white stripes and shined black boots.
“You men can have a seat,” one of the three counselors said to the group of new guys.
Gangsta took the end chair. He picked up the paperwork and sat down. One of the females started passing out pens and told the guys to start filling out the paperwork as they began their meeting.
Gangsta looked at one of the dude until they made eye contact. He nodded him over. The tall dude put the paperwork down and strolled over.
“What’s up?”
“Bruh, what pod you in?” Gangsta asked.
“G2, why?”
“I’m looking for a nigga named Kash. He’s from da city.”
“That’s my lil’ partna. You talkin’ ‘bout shawty from Simpson,” the dude boasted.
“Yeah, that’s my brother. Tell shawty Gangsta down here.”
“What pod you in?”
“J2.”
“I can get you moved to G2, bruh. What’s happenin’?” the tall dude asked.
“Shit, bet that, bruh.”
“Ok, bruh, when you get back, go pack yo’ shit,” the dude said, and then walked off.
***
Kash
His entire workout crew was on the big yard getting it in with dirt bags, pull-ups, and pushups. Blue walked through the gate and up to the fence. He called Kash’s name and he looked up. Kash figured Blue had made a move and had come up on something. He was always up to something. Most of the time it was some no-good shit, and that was one reason Kash fucked with him. Kash strolled up to the fence with sweat pouring down his body.
“What’s up, fool?”
“Yo’ brother down here,” Blue said.
“My brother?”
Kash was instantly confused.
“Yeah, lieutenant going to get shawty now to move him over here. Nigga’s name is Gangsta.”
“Oh, yeah,” Kash replied and was clearly excited. “Where he at?”
“Oh, he on his way, bruh. I made that move,” Blue said with a smile.
“Bet, boy, it’s finna go down major now. Let me finish this workout.”
Kash returned to the sandbag with his crew. It was his turn on the bag. He grabbed the net bag that held a black trash bag of dirt and started to lift. His muscles swelled up every time he brought the heavy bag up to his chin. Right after he dropped the bag, he dropped down to do fifty pushups. When Kash got up from the ground, he saw Gangsta coming through the gate with the lieutenant pushing a yellow cart with his property and mat inside. It’d been a while since Kash saw his partna, and it felt good to finally lay eyes on somebody he knew was solid. Leaving his crew behind, Kash walked over to the fence with a smile on his face. Gangsta finally saw him and smiled.
“What’s up, nigga?” Gangsta asked.
“Welcome to the state, baby,” Kash replied, and they touched fingers through the fence.
The fence between them was the only thing stopping a much-needed hug. Kash and Gangsta walked side by side.
“This camp straight, bruh?”
“Yeah, it’s okay. It’s gonna be better now that I got my nigga wit’ me,” Kash replied.
“You got a cellie?”
“Yeah, but we’ll switch him out. Go ahead and get situated, shawty. I’ma be in after yard call.”
Chapter 16
Terry
Ten Months Later
Nikki was standing in the yard on Johnson Road, holding a blunt high in the sky while she danced to Eric’s car system. Every now and then she would bring the blunt to her lips for a pull and inhale, and then she would turn up the wine cooler she held in her other hand.
Terry just looked at her best friend while sitting on the porch with Roxanne as a dice game was being played by the streetfull of guys.
It was Gangsta’s cousin Eric’s party, and everybody was out to show their love, especially his family. The kids ran around playing, the females did the cooking, and the men gambled and got high. Even the crackheads were welcome to the party today.
This was Terry’s first time really hanging out since she had her daughter, Keshana. She went shopping at times, but most times she would go from gangsta’s mother’s house to her own mother’s house. She never went out to enjoy herself because being a brand new mother proved to be much harder than she thought it would be.<
br />
“I know y’all hos ain’t gonna just sit there and watch me dance, right?” Nikkie asked.
She hit her blunt and walked toward her friends seated on the porch.
“Sit yo’ drunk ass down,” Terry said with a smile.
“Shut up.”
“Let me hit that,” Terry said and reached for the blunt.
Nikki looked her friend over and then finally passed the blunt. Terry hit it twice and instantly choked while pushing it back to Nikki.
“You should’ve never took a break. Kids be smarter when you smoke while you’re pregnant.”
“Bitch, hush,” Terry shouted while still choking.
The food smelled great. She couldn’t wait to dig in. Aunt Becky needs to speed up, Terry thought while watching the kids play in the street. Every time a car would ride down the street, the kids would clear out, and when they rode past the kids would get right back to it. Terry couldn’t help but wonder if her daughter would be just like the little girls she saw now who were too grown.
Terry shook her head for her own answer and said, “Hell no.”
“What?” Roxanne asked, breaking her train of thought.
“Oh, nothing, I was just thinking out loud.”
She refused to let her daughter get caught up by the streets. She refused to let Keshana grow up as she did. Terry focused on the loud music coming from a drop-top car riding down Johnson Road. All the kids cleared out of the way as it came through. The car pulled into the yard and she noticed Zay driving with three more guys.
It had been almost a year since the last time they saw each other, and boy was he looking good. He was decked out in gray Gucci from the sandals to the hat to his belt and buckle. Word on the streets was he had a New York connection named Bam who supplied him in Atlanta.
Everybody who was with Zay went to the dice game, but not him. Zay hung up the phone he was on, put it in his pocket, and walked toward the girls on the porch. A lump formed in Terry’s throat and made it hard to swallow. He looks better than ever before, she thought to herself.
“What’s up, y’all?” he asked all three of them.
“Let me hold somethin’, rich-ass Zay,” Nikki said while rolling another blunt.
He smiled. He looked down and back up, but this time he found Terry eyes.
“’Sup wit’cha?” he asked.
“Hey, Zarack.”
She called his full name. She was hoping he didn’t notice how nervous she was looking. She wanted to hug him.
“Come here right quick.”
Terry stood up wearing some brown Prada capri pants with the shirt to match and some sandals that showed off her cute feet. Her jet-black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The baby had given her a few extra pounds all in the correct places. She walked down the few steps into the yard toward the car Zay posted up on.
“How is the baby?” Zay asked once they stepped off.
“She’s good.” Terry nervously looked everywhere but at him.
She was scared because she did miss him and the times they shared together. She was confused because maybe she missed gangsta instead. Terry loved gangsta, but he wasn’t there. He was never really there, and Zay always had been around. He had never left the streets, and at the same time had plenty of money.
“How you doing, though?” he asked as he reached out and took her hand. “I mean, you looking all good and shit.”
“I’m good.”
“Do you miss me? I miss da fuck out of you.”
“No, you don’t,” Terry said, weakening.
“I promise I do.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Let’s take a quick ride.”
“To where?”
Now Terry pulled her hand away from him, and her heart was beating heavy in her chest.
“Let’s go to Low Low’s right quick,” Zay replied.
“The store?”
“Yes. We’ll go there and back.”
Zay opened the door and Terry slid in and across the leather seat. Nikki quickly made her way over to her friend with a smile on her face.
“Bitch, you ‘bout to give Zay some of that pussy!” Nikki said, drunk.
“Shut up, ho. Ain’t nobody ‘bout to do no shit like dat.”
Zay climbed in and cranked up. Nikki tossed a rubber into the car. It fell in Zay’s lap.
“No more babies,” she said and walked off, laughing.
Zay pulled off and looked at Terry.
“What was that all about?”
“That bitch is just drunk,” Terry replied.
She was too mad at Nikki for being so stupid. She sat back as the drop-top sped down Johnson Road and made a quick right, but not toward the store.
“Zarack, where are you going?”
“Ma’s house. You know she miss you a lot, and then we going to Low Low’s,” Zay replied and mashed the gas a little harder.
His mother stayed on Gun Club in a small white and yellow brick house. Zay’s mother always treated Terry like her own, and that alone made Terry regret not even giving her a phone call out of respect.
When Zay pulled up, Terry noticed his mother’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway. She started to protest, but didn’t. They both got out and strolled to the door. Terry prayed that Zay’s mother was there, but she had a gut feeling she wasn’t.
Zay used his key to enter the crib. The beautiful living room was still the same as she remembered. She heard the door lock and instantly regretting that she ever rode with Zay. She saw in his eyes what he truly wanted. She wanted the same thing, but with Gangsta, not Zay. Terry knew if they were alone she wouldn’t be strong enough to beat the urge. She loved Gangsta, but she lusted for Zay.
Terry felt him grab her waist, and he slowly turned her to face him. She loved his eyes and always had. His lips found her lips. His tongue invaded her mouth, and then she pulled back.
“No, Zarack. Uhn-uh.”
“Baby, I miss you.” He kissed her neck and then sucked it. He knew it was her spot. “You always been my boo.”
“But, Gangsta,” she moaned as he unbuttoned her pants.
“He ain’t gotta know, boo.”
Zay pulled her shirt over her head. Her stomach was still flat with not a mark on it. You couldn’t tell she recently had a child. Her breasts were still firm, but just a little bigger as he took a nipple into his mouth.
“What if yo’ mom comes home?”
Her hand held his head as he loved her breast. She missed this feeling.
“She’s out of town, baby, so we good.”
Zay led her to the sofa and laid her down. He pulled her pants off, and then her panties. He stepped back and pulled his own clothes off. Terry knew she was doing the wrong thing. She knew it was wrong, but it felt so good when Zay entered her wet walls.
***
Gangsta
Eight months to go was his thought daily. Eight months and he would be a free man to do as he pleased and not be told to do this or that. Not be told when to get up, when to go to sleep, or what to wear. He wouldn’t have to follow any more rules or listen to any more orders. All he had were laws to abide by, and he was certain he was gonna break them.
Gangsta truly didn’t have a plan. He had a stash and a few good friends, but no direction. He knew every step made by him had to be smooth and light because he escaped the grips of the courtroom. Now he was a father of two, and neither of his babies’ mothers knew of the other. Both were oblivious of their children having a sister or a brother. Gangsta knew the truth had to be out in the open. His son was one month and his daughter was four. Gangsta was about to have some mad babies’ mothers, no matter how he put it.
It was near chow call, and it was hamburger and hot dog day. Gangsta and Kash weren’t going because they were expecting a drop to be made. Blue had convinced Ms. Wishob to mule for him, though he had no money, so Gangsta and Kash funded the entire play.
For the past ten months, the three of them linked up, made moves, and took lo
sses. They won some, and every chance they got they tried to get at every female officer or male officer who was about the business. The trio hardly had issues, though, and Kash did most of the fighting.
Kash strolled into the cell. Gangsta and him had been cellies for the past seven months. He had just finished working out.
“What’s happenin’, fool?”
“Man, shit, bruh. I’m ‘bout to whip one,” Gangsta said, referring to the bombay.
“The ho just left outta shawty’s room,” Kash confirmed with a slick smile.
“Ok, cool.”
“I’m finna hit dis shower.” Kash kicked off his shoes. “Blue should be pulling up in the next minute or two.”
Gangsta stood from the bunk and went into his locker to get the bombay material while Kash got ready for the shower. Moments later, Blue entered the cell with a net bag and a huge smile on his face. He pulled the door closed and locked all three of them inside, and then he passed the net bag over. Gangsta sat the bombay cup down and put up a flap over the window of the cell door for added privacy.
Kash poured the contents out of the net bag. It held six phones and a half-pound of Kush that Veedo sent along with two hundred pills.
“Where’s the scale?” Kash asked Gangsta.
“Gotta wait until the man gets back from chow. You know all dat shit put up,” Gangsta replied while picking up one of the phones and turning on its power.
Blue grabbed the bombay cup to start whipin’. He was proud of himself for making the play happen as he promised his partnas he would.
Kash went ahead and got his shower out of the way while Blue and Gangsta began sacking up the pills and bomb. It was a Wednesday, so Gangsta hoped by the next Wednesday they would be done and ready for another bomb. The camp was dry, so it shouldn’t be a problem rolling fast. The plan was that all three of the guys would keep a phone and sell the other three to pay the mule. The phones were free through Kash’s connection. The guys could split all the profit from the pills and loud after paying Veedo’s wholesale price.
The Streets Bleed Murder Box Set Page 15