“Okay, boo. My relief is coming down the hall. Talk to you later,” Tiffany said and turned off the intercom.
Cedric had plans on going to breakfast, but found himself going back to sleep. When he did wake up, he already knew he'd missed breakfast because everybody else in the cellblock was up and about. He got on up, used the bathroom, washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and washed his face. On his way out of his cell, he grabbed a honeybun out of his box.
Cedric sat down in front of the television news, eating the honeybun. Although watching CNN, his attention was really on the conversation some of the guys were having about Montana being found dead after shift change this morning. Damn, she put that pussy on me good last night, Cedric thought to himself. It was the only logical conclusion he could come up with for not hearing the officers and nurses come in and take Montana's corpse out on the gurney.
The brother who had slipped the lock for him last night came walking over and sat down next to him on the bench. He handed Cedric a small, folded piece of paper. “Here you go, young blood. You're going to need this.”
Cedric took the piece of paper and immediately stuffed it in his right sock. “What's that?” asked Cedric.
“SIM card for your line, li’l homie. I'll let you call and activate it when I pull out after lunch,” the guy replied.
“That's love, big homie,” Cedric said and pounded him up.
“You play bones, li’l homie?” he asked Cedric.
“Yeah, bro. What's up? You want to play a few games?” Cedric said.
“Come on. Let's see what you got, youngster,” he replied.
They left from in front of the television and sat down at the domino table, where the baldheaded man was already waiting for them.
“By the way, my name is James Slaughter. And that's my brother, DeQuan Slaughter,” James said, introducing himself and his brother.
“It's a pleasure meeting y'all. My name is Cedric Livingston.”
The three men talked while playing dominoes. Neither one of them spoke of what had happened the night before. James even knew Cedric had fucked Tiffany, but the pen had its rules. The code of silence was the golden rule amongst the rules behind the wall.
***
Dink was doing what he knew best, checking trap. Bumping “Ghetto Dope”, he drove from the east side of Albany to the west in his brand new Cadillac Seville collecting dues. Although the murder rate had been at an all-time low, the few murders that did occur were his doing. Taking shorts on his money was the one thing he couldn't come to terms with, and everybody knew it.
Dink pulled up in front of Trav's trap house and hopped out. Fiends were coming and going, so he knew business was good. He swaggered up to the porch and took a seat, waiting for Trav to come back outside.
He rolled and fired up a blunt of sticky green while he waited on his right hand man to finish serving his customers. A fiend, who couldn't have been older than twenty-two, walked up on the porch. She was a 5'9” redhead who was pale, but still had a little shape about herself. The perfect example of what Dink considered a functional junkie.
Instead of knocking on the door and walking in, she sat in the chair next to him. “Can I smoke with you?” she asked.
Dink damn near choked to death on the smoke trying to respond. “No disrespect, but I don't know where ya mouth been. You know how y'all get when it comes to wanting that blow,” Dink replied.
She sucked her teeth. “First of all, I don't suck on glass dicks. I only snort a line of coke every now and then to take the edge off a fucked up life away. Secondly, I don't care for sucking dicks either. And my name is Mindy.”
Dink pulled out his stash of marijuana and a White Owl blunt and handed it to her. “Roll your own problems.”
Mindy busted the blunt down with her thumb nails and dumped the tobacco out. She broke down three big buds of the sticky green and spread it across the length of the blunt. Dink watched as she twisted and licked the blunt to make it stick. The way she wrapped her moist lips around it had his mind on exploring her sexuality.
“What?” asked Mindy. She pretty much knew what he was thinking: the same as every other man thought when it came to a woman.
Dink hit his blunt hard. He held in the smoke for a few seconds before exhaling. “You already know what's on a nigga mind, Mindy. We ain't going to role-play this conversation out. I'm Dink.”
Mindy laughed and fired up the blunt of sticky green. “Are you married or in a relationship with someone else?”
He puffed on the blunt again while the memory of his ex-wife haunted him. She had grown tired of hearing about all of the street drama he was always in, so she'd taken the children and dipped to Tulsa, Oklahoma, where her mother and father lived. It wasn't a week later that she'd sent the divorce papers through the mail with a letter informing him she would make arrangements for him to see his children twice a month. Since then, he'd been playing the field.
“No and no. I'm very single. Used to be married. My wife jumped ship on a nigga,” Dink said.
Mindy hit the blunt and nodded her head in deep thought. “Damn. Sorry to hear that, but I'm not the hit it and quit it type.”
“Who said anything about a one night stand?” asked Dink.
Mindy took another puff and smiled. “We might be on to something then, Dink. What's your number?”
“Let me see your phone?” he asked.
Mindy handed him her phone. Dink created a contact with his number and name, and then gave it back. She stood and walked off the porch.
“Where you headed?” asked Dink.
“To work. I'm good now. Some good green is as good as a line. I'll be in touch,” she said without stopping or turning around.
Dink watched her walk to the curb and jump behind the wheel of a glossy red Mitsubishi Eclipse sitting on chrome five stars and low profile tires. I know the bitch ain't broke looking for a come-up, he thought to himself as she drove off.
Travis finally came limping out of the house onto the front porch behind three customers. He plopped down in the chair next to Dink and accepted the blunt Dink held out to him. “What's up, fam?” asked Travis.
“You know me, my nigga, bill collecting for the next drop. What you got for me?” Dink said.
Travis just so happened to look up the street and saw his little nephew down by the courts. “I got everything needed, fam. Excuse me for a minute.” He limped down the porch steps and out to the curb. “Li'l Tony, bring your li’l bad ass here! I know you hear me!”
Li'l Tony came running up the street. Travis waited on the curb. Once he got to him, Travis limped back up onto the porch and sat back down.
“Boy, why your li’l bad ass ain't in school? Lie to me, I'm going to embarrass ya ass in front of company,” Travis said coldly.
Li'l Tony stood before his uncle and Dink on the porch. He didn't want the ass cutting Travis was ready to give him, so lying wasn't an option. “I ain't going to lie to you, Unc, I got suspended last week for fucking a broad in the bathroom during lunch break. Mama don't know about it either.”
Dink busted out laughing. “Dammit, man! You can't be mad at the li’l nigga for that!”
“Nah, but he know what time it is. Don't you?” Travis said.
Li'l Tony nodded his head. “Yes sir. Stay in school, go to college, and become somebody other than just another nigga on the block slanging dope in the hood.”
“Fucking right,” said Travis. “Now take your bad ass in the house. I'm not going to tell your mama, but your li’l ass going to work while you're around here. Understood?”
“Yeah, Unc, I understand,” said Tony before walking inside.
“Don't be sneaking drinking up my Ciroc either!” Travis yelled.
Dink continued to laugh. “I like that li’l nigga, fam. He just doing the same shit we used to do back in the days.”
“Yeah, but this ain't back in the days, fam. Cops killing young innocent black children on the regular. Especially young black me
n. I ain't trying to have my nephew become another statistic. Hold on.” Travis stepped into the house.
Dink thought about what his right hand man had just said. It was reality. Cops were killing young brothers on routine stops every other day in different states. The cruelty of the reality had him mad, and he was definitely thinking about having something done about it.
“Here you go, fam. Dink?” Travis said nudging him on the shoulder with the duffle bag. “You alright, my nigga?”
Dink stood up and grabbed the duffle bag. “I'm good, fam. Just thinking about the shit you said a minute ago. That's some real deep shit, my nigga. How much is this?”
“$75,000, fam,” Travis replied.
“You be on it, bro. I appreciate ya. We'll get up later on. Probably hit The Fox since it's Friday.” Dink said while walking off the porch. He walked to his car, got in, and drove off, still thinking about what he wanted to do.
***
T and Henry were at the studio with a couple of new artists. To Henry, they sounded good. But T wasn't feeling their vibe. He cut the music off and turned on the booth intercom. “Say, young gangstas, y'all got to spice that shit up. The lyrics on point, but y'all niggas ain’t putting out enough emotion with this shit. Take that shit from the top,” T demanded and turned the track on again.
Henry had twisted a blunt and fired up while T was giving orders. He bobbed his head to the funky track the two new artists were rapping to. “Yo, T, that shit really dope,” Henry said
“Yeah, they alright, Li'l Henry, but the sound quality ain't hitting on shit. That's the problem,” T said.
“When did you become the music scholar?” asked Henry.
“The day I decided to do this shit, fam. It ain't rocket science. All it take is an old soul and some good ears to know the difference between quality and bullshit.” T looked through the booth at the artists. “See, that's the bullshit.” He turned off the track and turned on the loudspeaker. “Get the fuck out of my studio.”
The two young men threw their hands up in a “what's up” gesture.
“I said, get the fuck out of my studio! Don't make me repeat myself!” T said demandingly.
Reluctantly, they took off the booth headphones, grabbed their gear, and walked out of the booth. Passing by T and Henry, one of the artists made a smart remark under his breath that T heard clearly.
“What the fuck you mumbling for, li’l nigga? Something wrong with your vocal cords?” T said in a not so polite way.
“Nah, fool, I'm good. Are you?” he replied.
Hearing the sarcasm in his voice, T jumped up and caught him with a three piece snack, two quick jabs and a left hook to the jaw, sending the artist down to the carpeted floor. “When y'all young niggas going to learn not to pop off at ya mouth if you ain't ready to pop off for real?” T said as he started stomping him out.
Henry continued to smoke. He didn't move to stop T, however, he kept a watchful eye on the other man. Finally, T quit stomping the young man. He gestured for his partner to help him up.
“Take your scary ass partner and kick rocks,” T said angrily.
They left without exchanging words with T.
“What's wrong with this generation?” asked T as he sat down next to Henry. “They ain't built for shit, but they got a lot of mouth.”
Henry simply nodded in agreement while inhaling the chronic smoke. They chilled and smoked three more blunts at the studio before deciding to leave.
Chapter Five
Sopia was living her best life. Her restaurant was the hottest spot in town. Every now and then Mike would come through to check on her, but her girl Tanya made her cut that visit off. They had grown strong, and Sopia was cool with meeting whatever demands she made.
Matter of fact, Sopia had made Tanya the manager. The two had moved in together in a nice ranch style four bedroom house by the lake. Since they weren't worried about having company or thinking about adopting children, they turned one of the extra bedrooms into a gym, another into a Jacuzzi room, and the third one into an office. The office was Tanya's idea because she enjoyed keeping up with their finances and she loved doing research and writing poetry.
It was 3:26 p.m. Everything was starting to wind down. Although owner and manager, Sopia and Tanya still did their part, whether it was helping to cook or washing dishes. They normally closed at 4:30, however, they would stick around inspecting the dining, prepping, and cooking areas before leaving. Usually, that would keep them busy until around 6:40 because they inspected each area like a real inspector.
That was another one of Tanya's ideas. She would always remind Sopia about being safe rather than sorry. The dining area had cleared, and the kitchen help were gathering the dirty dishes off of the tables. After washing and towel drying the dishes and utensils, Sopia told them they could go ahead and leave for the day, that she and Tanya would handle putting everything up and lock up for the evening.
With everyone gone except for them, Sopia and Tanya put the dishes and utensils away, inspected each area, and retired to their office inside of the restaurant for a while. Sopia looked at the clock on the wall. It was 6:39 p.m.
“Tanya, what's up, boo? How you feeling?” asked Sopia.
Tanya, who always dressed in body dresses and heels, sat on top of the office desk in front of her. “Sopia, why you ask a question you already know the answer to?” She eased her dress up, revealing she had no panties on, and slid the straps off of her shoulders and took her bra off.
Sopia stood licking her lips while taking in the flawless dark chocolate body before her. Every time she looked at Tanya's exposed sex and blemish-free naked body always seemed like the first time, Sopia thought to herself.
“What are you waiting for, boo? Come make love to me,” Tanya demanded while spreading her legs.
Sopia closed the distance between them quickly. She immediately went face first between Tanya's thighs, licking, thrusting her tongue inside of her and sucking on her clitoris. Tanya moaned and rubbed the crown and back of Sopia's head. “Mmm, Sopia, baby... Yes, baby... Yes... Make love to me,” she demanded.
Sopia responded to her demands by thrusting her tongue deeper and sucking harder on her clitoris, which caused Tanya to thrust her hips forward as the orgasm claimed her body. After Tanya's fruity tasting juices flowed around her tongue, Sopia stood up straight and undressed herself. Tanya smiled and leaned back on the desk, gesturing with her finger for Sopia to climb on top of her, and she did.
They tongued kissed and lip locked in between moans while Sopia slid her body up and down gently on top of Tanya's. Their breast and sexes pressed hard against each other, and their clitorises rubbed every time Sopia slid up and down.
“Oh, baby… I love making love to you, Tanya. Mmm, baby. I'm about to cum, baby,” Sopia whispered softly into her left ear.
Tanya began grinding with her hips. As she felt Sopia's body began to tremble, she held her firmly against her body. Sopia slid up and down on top of her faster and faster, moaning uncontrollably in her ear, until she came.
“Damn, baby, I can't get enough of you,” Sopia said, breathing hard.
Tanya held on to her trembling body and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you too, boo. Come on, get up, so we can go home. Round two is on me when we get there.”
Sopia got up and got dressed. Tanya didn't bother putting her bra back on. She pulled the straps back over her shoulders and stood up and pulled the dress back down to cover her exposed sex. Sopia couldn't help but look at her lustfully.
They locked up the restaurant and walked hand in hand out to the glossy money green drop-top Mustang. Tanya hopped behind the wheel, leaving Sopia to get in on the passenger side. “You must knew I didn't feel like driving?” Sopia said.
“I know my wifey,” Tanya replied as she put the car in gear and drove off.
It was 8:18 p.m. when they made it home. Tanya kept to her word. She sexed Sopia in the shower and in the bed before they laid down to sleep.
&
nbsp; ***
Dinner was almost ready to be served at the estate. Li'l Will and his family sat around the dining room table. His mother, Ruby, was talking about taking the children to church on Saturday and Sunday. Dee had agreed to go along with them.
Li'l Will straight up declined going. He knew from all of the dirt he'd done and was still doing that he was beyond saving. Machumu declined the invitation as well, reminding them she was Jehovah's Witness. That left Ruby and her grandchildren and Dee.
“Y'all need to get ya lives right with the Lord,” Ruby said.
“Mama Ruby, you got to remember, everybody serves God differently,” Machumu said in response to her comment.
Li'l Will held his head in his hands and sighed, knowing his wife had just opened up an argument. And sure enough, his mother didn't let Machumu's reply slide.
“Now hold on a minute, young lady. Jesus Christ is Lord of lords and King of kings,” Ruby said confidently.
Li'l Will peeped at his wife through his fingers. He was shaking his head, trying to tell her to leave well enough alone, but she looked him off, turning all of her attention to his mother.
“Mama Ruby, I believe in Jesus Christ too. The difference between what I believe and what you believe is how you choose to understand what you're reading. I do my own research. I don't go by another man's interpretation,” Machumu said defensively.
“Child, you must be possessed with an evil spirit. Satan, get thee behind me!” Ruby yelled.
Machumu was about to respond when feminine laughter sounded through the air. Everybody's attention went to the open doorway, where Renika stood laughing at the scene.
“Hey, everybody,” Renika said.
Ruby stood up and walked over to where she stood and hugged her. “Aww, look at my grandbaby all grown up and looking good.”
Renika hugged her back. “I'm good, Grandma.” She sniffed the air. “What's for dinner? Did you do the cooking, Grandma?”
Blood 4 Blood Page 3
