Never Gonna Be Wifey Page 14

  “A’ight, Ma, I hear you. A’ight, let me know when you want to come over.” He kissed me on the cheek.

  I grabbed his arm. “Listen, I know I ain’t been the best mom to you, but I need you to know I love you, and there’s nothing in this world that I wouldn’t do for you.” I hugged him, and he left the room without saying a word.

  I wish I could protect him, but I knew he was grown, and he made his own decisions now.

  I got up, washed my face, and went downstairs. I could smell something good in the air. I knew Jeanette was throwing down in the kitchen again. I walked in to see her and Azir sitting down at the table, laughing and talking. I stood in the doorway smiling.

  “What you standing there for? I made pancakes, sausage, eggs, and grits. Come make you a plate.”

  “Yeah, I’m starved. I like this; we haven’t done this in a while. I love seeing my li’l family together. All we got is the three of us.”

  “A’ight, Ma, enough with all this emotional crap early in the morning,” Azir laughed.

  “OK, okay, Mr. Hard as a Rock. I’ll stop showing my soft side,” I played back.

  “Hmm. I ’ont know what’s goin’ on, but I think God answered my prayer. I prayed for this day to come, and look at this; we are sittin’ here like a family, laughing and talkin’. I tell you ’bout the power of my God.”

  Both Azir and I looked at each other. We knew once she started preaching, she wouldn’t stop. Lord help us, I thought!

  Azir Jackson

  “I need a vacation. I’m goin’ to Decatur where it’s greater. See if I could stack me up some more paper. . . .” Jeezy’s voice blasted through the speakers.

  I was on my way to Mom-duke’s crib. I decided it was time that I cleaned my clothes out of the room. Shit, I had so many outfits, I could donate some.

  Jeezy’s song had me in the zone. Lately, shit ain’t been going right. I didn’t know how long I was gonna stick around. If e’erything worked out as planned, I would be closing shop and movin’ on. I ain’t no fool; if my name kept ringing bells, it’d only be a matter of time before Babylon started paying attention. I ain’t never been locked up before, and I wanted to keep it that way. Don’t get me wrong. I knew I was living foul, and if I have to lay a nigga down, I will—’cause at the end of the day, I rather be judged by twelve than carried by six. Real nigga talk.

  I parked my Jeep in the driveway and walked to the door. The house was quiet, so I was hoping Mom-dukes wasn’t home. I had too much on my brain right now, and I didn’t want to get into it with her. I wish sometimes we could have a real mother-and-son bond, but that’s all it was. A wish.

  I walked past her bedroom, then took a few steps back. I leaned my ear against the door and heard sobbing sounds. I immediately banged on the door.

  She told me to come in, so I opened the door. There she was, lying in bed. She tried her best to hide her tears, but I could see. Her eyes were puffy, and her voice was hoarse.

  I wasted no time trying to find out what was going on, and she tried her best to keep the truth away from me. She saw that I wasn’t letting up, so she finally broke down, telling me that the pussyclaat nigga she was messing around with was the reason why she was crying.

  Every second this nigga continued to breathe, he found a way to make my life hell. There was no way’round it; I needed to handle him ASAP.

  It hurt my soul to see my moms crying like that. I knew whatever it was this nigga did, it was serious. I held her tight as she bawled in my arms. This shit was blowing me to see her sitting up, crying over this bum-ass nigga that she had no business fucking wit’ in the first place.

  I sat and kicked it wit’ her for a minute. This was the first time that we actually sat down and had a grown-up conversation without yelling. I ain’t goin’ lie; it felt kind of good. She was a cool person when she ain’t got all that attitude and shit. I ended up tellin’ her ’bout how that fuck nigga called her out of her name. I didn’t hold back anything and even went as far as letting her know that I wanted to kill that nigga. I saw the surprised look that she gave me. See, she’s never really seen me in action, which was good, ’cause as soon as things pop off, the first person Babylon run to is the mother. I would never want to put or jeopardize her freedom behind some shit that I did.

  * * *

  I was a man on a mission! I put on my all-black Dickies outfit and black Nike boots. I decided to ride out on my latest toy, a Kawasaki Ninja Zx-14.

  I put on my helmet with the mirror-tinted visor and pulled off. It took me no time to get to the spot. I parked my bike in the alley behind the coffee shop and walked around the side of the building so I could watch this chump handling business. It was a little past nine o’clock when I noticed the assistant leaving. I knew then he would be following shortly. I jumped on my bike and pulled to the side just in time to see him pull off in his dark-colored Dodge Charger. I eased out in traffic without raising suspicion and followed closely, careful not to speed.

  I thought it was crazy how these niggas be in the streets but didn’t have no street sense. The nigga didn’t notice that a bike followed him from Decatur all the way to Atlanta. Talk ’bout dumbass niggas. I watched closely as he pulled into a driveway and got out of the car. Then I sped up close enough to the driveway, and as I pulled my pistol out, I saw the look of shock on his face as he noticed what was ’bout to take place.

  Bop! Bop! Bop! Shots rang out. He fell to the ground, and I jumped off the bike, ran up on him, and emptied the clip in his face.

  “Dead yuh fi dead pussyhole,” I said as I ran back to my bike and burned tires. In seconds, I was ghost and got the hell out of Atlanta.

  I made it back to Decatur and pulled over in an empty parking lot. I pulled the gun apart and threw it in the woods behind an abandoned building. I kept the barrel so I could take it to the scrap yard. After that, I stopped by the store and grabbed me a pack of Dutches. I made it to the house and circled the block three times before I rode into my subdivision.

  Whoo! What a day, I thought.

  Walking in, I went directly to the bar and poured me a glass of Jamaican White Rum, no water or ice. I took it straight to the dome. Then I rolled me a big head and poured another glass of rum before I walked into the living room.

  This shit felt good as fuck. I got another killin’ under my belt. The only difference, this one was close to my heart. This pussyclaat nigga violated me, but more importantly, he violated my moms. I bet that pussy ain’t laughing right now! Betta yet, that nigga’s lights went out for good.

  I barely even watched my 50-inch plasma TV, but I needed to see what the news people were reporting. Channel 2 had breaking news: A murder in an upper-class neighborhood in the Buckhead area. There were lots of police cars, news people, and nosy neighbors. The news reporter stated that Atlanta PD believed that this was drug-related since the victim was a known drug dealer and gangbanger. I watched as the reporter pointed to the medical examiner roll the corpse. I cut my TV off and took a few more pulls out of this ganja I was smoking. Relaxing with my blunt, liquor, and Bob Marley chanting in the background, I sat back on the sofa.

  Today was a good day if I do say so myself . . . “This is for you, Pops.” I raised my glass to salute the man that I’d never met.

  Chapter Eleven

  Shayna Jackson

  “Hello, Miss Jackson. I’m Superintendent Beckenham, and this is Investigator Clarkston from the Bureau of Prison Headquarters. Sit down.”

  “Hello.” I took a seat across from the two big burly officers.

  Hmm, this is some serious shit, I thought. I straightened myself up and put on my game face. I was on alert. Had to make sure I was on point; I didn’t trust these crackers. I already knew they were trying to cover their asses, especially after the news carried it the other day. That shit didn’t look good. “Federal inmate raped while in custody.” My lawyer must smell money, ’cause this fool been talking to everybody who would listen.

  “All right, Miss
Jackson, I know you’ve told the story before, but I need you to tell it to us again.”

  “Really? I wrote a statement. Shouldn’t that be enough? I even gave up his semen. You don’t believe me, do you?” I busted out crying.

  “No, that’s not what I’m implying. I’m sorry if you feel like that. You’re a victim and deserve justice. This should never happen to any woman.” This racist-ass slave master looked straight at me and lied, right to my face.

  I didn’t pay him any mind. I started to tell them my story from beginning to end, without blinking. They had no idea who they were fucking with. My freedom depended on this; there was no way I was going to mess that up. By the time I was finished, both of them were sitting there with pity plastered across their faces. The superintendent even looked like he had tears in his eyes. What a fucking fool, I thought.

  “Okay, Mrs. Jackson, my office is doing a thorough investigation. The officer will have no contact with you. Your lawyer is in contact with my office. I do give you my sincere apologies that this happened to you. I promise you that you will be given justice,” the BOP idiot said.

  “Thank you so much. I can’t sleep, can’t eat. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I thought I was safe here, but this happened. He threatened me; he told me that if I tell, y’all wouldn’t believe me and would give me more time.”

  “Don’t you worry ’bout a thing. My office is handling everything. I’m going to make sure you never have to experience this again. You’re free to go. I’ll be contacting your lawyer.”

  “Okay. Thank you, gentlemen, so much. I’m glad someone believes me,” I bawled.

  “Okay, Mrs. Jackson.” He opened the door for me. I saw in his eyes that he was ready for me to get the fuck on.

  I pranced out of the office, still wiping tears in case they were watching me from the office window.

  Oh Lord, that was a task, but I got it done. I was feeling confident that things would work out in my favor. Shit, I didn’t really lie; I am a federal inmate, which meant I had no rights, so I couldn’t consent to sleep with him. So, technically, in a court of law, he raped me.

  I walked back to the unit and saw a bunch of low-life hood rats standing at the door; the minute they saw me, they started to whisper. I walked past them and looked them dead in their eyes. I saw the fear as they turned their heads.

  I walked into the unit and headed straight to the phone, where I dialed my lawyer’s number.

  “Miss Jackson, how are you doing today?”

  “I’m terrible. Can’t sleep at nights. Can’t stop crying. The superintendent and some man from BOP came to see me today,” I cried.

  “Okay. That’s great. I’m sure they just wanted you to go over what happened. I filed a motion on your behalf for immediate release. So sit tight, I’m working every angle, not leaving any stone unturned.”

  I could’ve hugged him! Shit, I probably would’ve sucked this fool’s cock right now. That’s the kind of news that I was waiting to hear. God knows I was tired of this hellhole. I was ready to go and get back to my life.

  “Okay, thank you. I do appreciate you being there for me.”

  “Take care of yourself. Let me work on the legal side. Give me a call next week, ’cause I’m pushing for immediate release.” Those were the last words I heard before the phone cut off.

  I walked out of the phone booth, smiling ear to ear.

  “You evil bitch. I knew that it was some shit wit’ you. Gonzalez is a good officer; he treated us better than anybody else. You know damn well that man didn’t rape you. You threw yourself on him. I watched you, bitch. You got everybody ’round here fooled, except me. Bitch, I can see through your lies,” this Big Bertha bitch yelled as she hovered over me.

  I almost snapped on this ho, but I quickly remembered I have too much to lose.

  “Listen up, bitch. Mind your own business and stay out of mine. You don’t know what Gonzalez did to me. I might’ve flirted with him, but that didn’t give him the right to rape me. You’re a woman and should understand how I’m feeling.”

  “Bitch, I don’t believe you. You come in here acting like you better than us—well, I have news for you. Your shit stink just like the rest of us. Look around you; you have an eight-digit number, and you are in khakis just like the rest of us. Bitch, you just a common ho, tryin’a pretend like you high class. Too bad Gonzalez didn’t see you for the rotten snake that you really are.”

  “Listen, you crackhead bitch; I tried to be nice to yo’ slow ass. I’m done being nice to you. Run the fuck along, find some pussy to suck on, and get the fuck out of my way.” I pushed her ass out of my way.

  The nerve of this bitch. She called her ass trying to check me over a police-ass nigga. That big bitch betta continue pressing her bunk and stay the fuck up outta my way. I’m definitely not what she wanted.

  I walked to my bunk because it was almost count time. I was so caught up in everything going on that I’d forgotten to eat. I opened my locker and grabbed a cup of noodles. Oh, I was so tired of eating that shit. Before prison, I thought that shit was all them project bitches ate. Oh well, it won’t be much longer, I thought.

  “Hey, Miss Shayna, you ’ont happen to have another one of those to spare?”

  “Chantelle, aren’t you tired of begging? Damn, bitch, you need a hustle or something,” I said, slammed my locker, and walked off. That poor bitch stayed begging for soap to wash her ass or noodles. Fuck, I was tired of her ass. I was ready to go!

  * * *

  Over the next couple of days, I spoke to Alonzo over the phone. I don’t know what it was about this man, but I couldn’t seem to get him off my mind. His words were so soothing, and he seemed so different from all the other lames that tried to get with me. His in-control attitude turned me on. I swear I thought it was Alijah reincarnated.

  “Ha-ha, bitch, you trippin’,” I said to myself. Alijah’s ass was dead and buried in some hole in Jamaica. They lucky I wasn’t home, because I’m the wife; I would’ve burned his fucking body. That fucked-up-ass nigga took my daddy away from me. I should’ve killed his little monkey when I had the chance. Speaking of him, I wonder whatever happened to him. He should be around twenty or twenty-one, the same amount of time I’ve been in here. Hmm, his ass might be up in somebody’s jail if he was anything like his daddy. I can’t wait ’til I get out of here. I got plans . . . big plans.

  Chapter Twelve

  Shayna Jackson

  “Shayna Jackson to visitation.”

  “Shayna, that’s you, girl. You might have good news.”

  “You just don’t get it, do you? Mind your own fucking business, bitch,” I yelled at my nosy-ass bunkie.

  I got off my bunk, put my sneakers on, and strolled off to the R&D. I hope this is it, I thought.

  “Come in, Miss Jackson,” Lieutenant Hernandez said.

  I stepped into the office and noticed Superintendent Beckenham standing there.

  “Hello, again, Miss Jackson. Sit down.” He pointed to the seat.

  What’s going on here? I thought.

  “In our last meeting, I told you I was going to get to the bottom of what happened to you. I had my team investigate, and no stones were left unturned. That led me to the conclusion that Officer Gonzalez did violate you; I want to give you my sincere apology, and I promise you, he will be arrested and get his day in court to answer to this heinous crime against you.”

  “Oh my God. I thought he would not be arrested for what he did,” I busted out crying.

  “Well, Miss Jackson, after all you’ve been through, I spoke to the Bureau of Prisons. Your lawyer and I are pushing for immediate release.”

  I froze in my seat. Did this cracker say immediate release? I wanted to jump up and down, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to continue acting as if I was a victim.

  “Your release papers are submitted; we are waiting for the judge to sign off on them, which could be any day.”

  I was at a loss for words; I continued cryin
g. They thought I was crying because I was victimized. Hell nah! I was crying because in a few days or weeks, I knew I’d be walking out of this hellhole. I knew the judge would see fit to send me home. The case was already shedding a negative light on the federal government and the Bureau of Prisons.

  “I think we are finished here. You will hear from us in a few days. In the meantime, your counselor will be discussing your terms of release with you.”

  “Thank you,” I managed to mumble through all the crying that I was doing.

  I walked out of the office and headed toward the track. I needed a minute to gather my thoughts. Shit, I’ve wasted all these years; I wish that I had thought about this a long time ago. All kinds of emotions filled my mind . . . the thought of being able to walk the streets again. I smiled as I sniffed the fresh air. Oh, I couldn’t wait to be able to sleep in my own bed and do what the fuck I wanted to do.

  “Sierra Rogers, get ready! The game is not over until I say so,” I said under my breath. There was not one day that I was in here that I haven’t thought about her and that li’l monkey. This bitch was the sole reason that I was locked up. Ever since that bitch walked into my life, all she did was create havoc. I was disappointed when I learned she wasn’t dead. What the fuck? That bitch must have nine lives; I shot her close range last time, and I thought I killed her, only to find out her old ghetto ass lived. I thought of us meeting again. I won’t rest until that bitch is in the ground, where the fuck she belongs. I was so engulfed in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the rain was coming down until I was soaked! I got into the unit and took a quick shower before count time.

  After dinner, I decided to make a phone call to Alonzo. For the past month, we have grown closer. This fool had no idea that he was just another fool. For the time being, he served a purpose, even though I found myself thinking about him when I went to bed and when I woke up.