A lady sat against the corner, talking on the phone, which was mounted to the wall. Inmates on the seventh floor weren’t allowed face-to-face. We’d heard the warden had approved a videoconference, which would soon allow visitors and inmates to see one another without having the violent inmate leave the unit. That was good, but only if they didn’t start using that for all of us.
I spotted Beaux and Precious sitting in the back of the room. Good. All prisoners preferred sitting away from the guard at the door. One guard couldn’t keep watch over all of us.
“Hey, bro. Precious,” I said, exchanging a quick hug with both.
Beaux immediately said, “You need to come home. Mom is willing to put up her house for collateral. I can sell your stuff, take out a loan, and use what’s in my savings to help bail you out.”
Precious said, “I’ve been working two jobs and got two thousand to help.”
She opened her legs. She wasn’t wearing any panties. I got instant wood. My dick crawled toward my knee. When I saw the cell poking out of her pussy, I almost peed in my pants. My dick wanted to trade places with that phone.
I scratched my bald head. I’d never snuck in contraband. How was I going to get a feel and the phone without getting caught?
Staring between Precious’s legs, wishing I could dial Madison, I asked my brother, “How’s Moms doing?” Hopefully, Madison hadn’t changed her number.
“Not good,” he said, then looked away. He pressed his fingers deep into his eyes; then he cleared his throat. “But don’t you worry. Let’s focus on getting you out of here.”
Beaux was the sensible one who had convinced me to save money. Things had to be bad if they were willing to risk everything for me to go home. What if Sarah Lee Washington, the strongest woman I knew, was waiting to see me before she’d let go? What if her not seeing me made her hold on? I didn’t want my mama to die.
“I love you—and no matter what, I’m going to be here for you,” Precious said.
“I love you too, Precious.” A short time in the pen and lying came as easy as breathing.
I was an inmate who would say whatever I thought Precious wanted to hear. Some of these guys exchanged vows with women whom they’d never be with if they weren’t in here. Others juggled three or four females for visitation, proposed to each one, and had all of them putting money on their books. Me? I was faithful to Madison.
“Don’t let Mom sign over the house.”
“She’s not living there. I had to move her in with me.”
“That won’t last, bro. You know Mom. She was probably waiting for you to come here so she could get back to her house.”
Beaux laughed, then said, “True dat. That’s why I need you to let me handle your bail.”
I pressed my fingers deep into my eyes to force back the tears. “Bro, I need you to send G-double-A’s family a thousand dollars.”
G-double-A’s mom was taking care of his son until G-double-A got out. In a way, I was helping my friend and myself at the same time.
Beaux stared at me. “We just sent this dude’s mom a g.”
“Just do it. For me. Please,” I pleaded.
“I don’t trust this dude, Granville.”
“I checked him out, bro. He’s legit. He’s going to get me off.”
“That’s my job,” Precious said, spreading her knees, reminding me about the phone. She pushed it out a little, then sucked it back in.
Seeing a real pussy I couldn’t touch was pissing me off. I wanted to bend her over, raise her skirt, yank out that phone, and fuck the shit out of her. I stood and motioned for the guards. “I’m ready.”
“What about?” Precious’s eyes moved in the direction of the cell phone.
“I need you on the out, not the inside. Tell Mom I love her, bro. See you guys next week.”
I’d changed my mind about the phone. If we’d gotten caught, I might be sent to the seventh floor, transferred, denied visitation, or faced with a new charge. It wasn’t worth it.
Happy to be back on the sixth floor, I sat on the stool at the table next to No Chainz.
“You got it?” No Chainz asked.
“Changed my mind.”
“Probably best. Good move, G.”
“You take care of that?” G-double-A asked. “Since I’m representing you when you represent yourself, we need to get your subpoena list together,” he said, sitting on the stool next to me.
“Who was that woman you went in the room with. That’s your wife?” I asked.
G-double-A shook his head. “That was Sindy. You can say she’s my advisor.”
“Who cares who she was? This nigga is always clocking dough,” No Chainz said, staring at G-double-A. “Besides, how many inmates you got on payroll?”
G-double-A looked No Chainz in the eyes, then answered, “Not you. But that can change.”
I didn’t miss that, but time was my money. I’d find out what the deal was with my boy later tonight when we in our cell. I cleared my throat and spread my thighs, then said, “Loretta Lovelace, Precious Dawson, Chaz DuBois.”
No Chainz asked, “What about Chicago, man? And Madison. Don’t leave out the groom and the bride.”
I looked away from the list after G-double-A wrote their names. I didn’t care about Roosevelt DuBois, but I was in love with Madison and she was carrying my baby. I named everyone I knew who was at the reception, then added, “Let’s get a list of employees who worked that day.”
“You’re not so dumb, dude. That’s going to cost extra, but that’s an excellent idea. The more witnesses who testify, the greater chance you have for a mistrial. If their testimonies don’t match, that could confuse the jury during their deliberation.”
I smiled. “Really? That’s how I’m going to get off?”
No Chainz patted me hard on the back. “Yeah, nigga. They still haven’t found the weapon. Chicago can’t say you did it if he didn’t see you fire on him. This is Texas. Damn near everybody carries a gun.”
G-double-A agreed. “I’ll write, ‘Did you have a gun on you at the time of the shooting?’ and you make sure to ask each witness that question.”
Wow, I was starting to feel better about being released. I’d hate for Moms to die while I was locked up.
CHAPTER 22
Chicago
Being in a hospital brought back memories.
I sat in the cafeteria with Mrs. Tyler, texting Loretta: Hey, I apologize for how things transpired. Let’s get together and talk later this week.
She responded right away: I’d like that.
Mrs. Tyler was seated next to me. Her husband had come late yesterday after Madison’s surgery, but he hadn’t stayed long. He said, “I have to make sure the business doesn’t go under while she’s under.” Then Madison’s dad left fifteen minutes after he had arrived. He’d left so quickly—I didn’t have time to ask how I could help him.
I texted Chaz: Where are you?
He replied: At home.
See you in a few to discuss the next game.
Johnny made me realize that emotional detachment was a real coping mechanism for some men. My grandfather Wally visited me once while I was sick. I knew men who avoided going to the doctor for routine checkups and postponed dental appointments until a toothache or abscess sent them running for help.
My dad was there for me, but no one physically had cared for me more than Loretta. Regardless of what I’d paid her, I couldn’t put a price tag on what she’d done. I wanted that type of person for my wife.
“God will bless you, Chicago,” Mrs. Tyler said.
Being with her made me wonder why I hadn’t spent more time with Mrs. Tyler. Outside of the announcement of my marrying Madison, our families had never met. That day in my suite, during halftime Madison and I told our parents we were getting married. My mother hadn’t hesitated to express she was opposed. But now that I think back, Mrs. Tyler’s reaction wasn’t good or bad. It was indifferent.
I expected more from Madison’s mo
ther right now. Didn’t get why she was so down. What was done couldn’t be undone. She seemed more sorry for herself than concerned about her daughter.
Good health was our greatest asset. Not money or material possessions. “He already has blessed me. I know a lot has happened, but I love Madison.”
She started crying. I put my arm around her shoulders.
“It’s all my fault. She blames me. I should’ve warned her.”
This was not the time for Mrs. Tyler to become the victim. I should’ve said, “It’s not your fault,” but that would’ve been a lie. She should have told Madison that breast cancer ran in their family. If Madison and I had a daughter, we were going to make sure she knew everything and take her to get tested early as possible.
“I’m going to check in on Madison, and then I have to meet up with my brother. I’ll be back tonight,” I said. I’d barely touched my salad. I didn’t have much of an appetite.
“Okay,” Mrs. Tyler said, crying into her plate.
Walking away, I shook my head. Yesterday Madison’s surgery was a success. While we waited for Madison to recover, I got to know her mom a little better. Mrs. Tyler was a nice woman, but she seemed sheltered. She didn’t have any siblings, but where were her friends? Cousins? She didn’t belong to any organizations. “Outside of my Madison and Johnny,” Mrs. Tyler said, “you’re my closest family. I can’t wait until the baby is born.”
Johnny didn’t appear to be the isolating type. Men who made sure their wives didn’t have a life or identity outside of them were big-time cheaters and/or wife beaters.
I thought about the two friends my wife has, or had—I wasn’t sure. Neither of them had been to the hospital. Tisha, I understood her not coming. Loretta, not so much. I know she had an argument with my wife at my condo and I stayed out of it. They needed to release their pent up anger. But Madison hadn’t done anything to hurt Loretta enough to keep her from being at the hospital.
Quietly I entered the room. I wiped the drool from my wife’s face. So many little things kept reminding me of what Loretta had done for me. I kissed Madison’s forehead. “Baby, I’m going over to Chaz’s place for a moment. Your mom is in the cafeteria. I’ll be back later.”
Sleepily she said, “Thanks, babe.” She smiled, then closed her eyes.
The drive home was about forty-five minutes. The valet attendant got in my car as soon as I got out. I went straight to my brother’s place.
Tap, tap, tap, tap . . . tap, tap.
Banging on the door or ringing the bell was not what we did. We had keys to each other’s condos, but we didn’t use them unless we had to. I’d forgotten to ask, but I hoped Loretta wasn’t here. Some of what I had to say, I wouldn’t in front of her.
“Hey, come on in.” Chaz didn’t ask if I wanted a drink. He poured two glasses of scotch. “Let’s sit on the balcony.”
I sat, sipped my drink and stared up at the sky. I sipped again. It was about seventy-five degrees and the sun was fading into an amazing blend of orange, yellow, and red hues. I inhaled real deeply, then held my breath.
Exhaling, I said, “Thank You, Lord.”
I could walk. I could speak. I was in my right mind. I hadn’t lost my job. And I was sitting next to one of the persons whom I never wanted to live without. My family and Madison were the others.
“Man, I’m grateful to be alive. I don’t know why He spared me—”
“But I thank Him every day. I love you, Chicago. I was scared to death, man. Thought I’d die if you didn’t make it.”
Tears streamed down Chaz’s face. We hadn’t talked about the shooting since it happened. I stared at the sky as though I could see God in heaven nodding at me. I was sure He approved of how I was handling things.
My eyes watered. I whispered, “I feel you. You should know that I’m going to help Madison’s dad save their company.”
“Hold up. Wait.” Chaz sat on the edge of his chair. “Are you crazy?”
“The Good Book says your wife is supposed to come first. Before your mother and everybody else. Do I live by the Word? Or do as I please?”
“You don’t want me to answer that. And you might want to hold off on that decision until after the trial. A woman can destroy a man’s life in a nanosecond.”
“Correction, the wrong woman. Good women make us better. The right one makes us our best.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘the right one,’ and, trust me, you’ve got the wrong one,” Chaz said.
“I used to believe good women didn’t exist until—”
Chaz interrupted, “Until Obama became president, and—”
“Exactly. As I move forward, that’s what I want.”
Chaz scooted back in his chair.
The first family gave me hope of having the perfect marriage. I wanted a woman whom I loved so hard, I was willing to die for her. Not because she’d dated some crazy dude. Men should never defend a dishonorable woman. But this guy was someone my wife had lied to me about. She’d claimed she’d met him before she’d met me. Sexed him before she’d sexed me. I believed her. That was the only reason I didn’t call off my wedding. I didn’t care about that hater e-mailing me a videotape of him fucking Madison. I never watched the entire clip anyway. Finding out Madison was the liar—Chaz was right.
“Man, I still want to forgive my wife, but you’re right. I might have to let her go.”
“Damn straight, I’m right. You’re not going to get the president’s stamp of approval on Madison. And you sure as hell won’t have the chance you deserve with Sindy—I mean, another woman if that baby Madison is carrying has your DNA. That could be dude’s baby, man. Wake up!”
Chaz wasn’t slick. He was working on hooking me up to get my mind moving in a different direction from Madison. He held my hand.
“Let us pray that the child inside Madison’s womb is not a DuBois.”
In a way I hoped he was right. A divorce would be imminent. I could meet someone new and start fresh.
Breaking his grip, I said, “I’m no fool, man. Whether the kid is mine or not, I’m going to do right by Madison through her recovery and delivery. She needs me.”
If a man knew there was a possibility the child could be his, he shouldn’t abandon the woman until he was sure. Some of my players would rather have a broken leg than hear a girl say, “I’m pregnant.” The way I was handling my situation, regardless of the outcome, I’d have no regrets.
“No, Loretta is the one who needs you,” Chaz said, dragging the word “needs.”
In a playful way I said, “You sure say some dumb stuff, man.”
We laughed and drank. Chaz refilled our glasses. We drank, then laughed.
“Mm, mm, mm.” I flashed back to a moment with Madison.
Chaz broke our silence. “Out with it.”
My smile grew wider. “Madison got me sprung. The way she French-kissed my asshole,” I said, giving my brother intimate details.
“Mm, mm, mm,” he said. “Look here. I don’t care what she did to you. I don’t trust Madison. So I’m letting Loretta end our relationship.”
“After all she’s done for me!” I protested.
“Apparently, the only thing she didn’t do for you was French-kiss your asshole.”
We laughed. Whatever came up came out, when talking with Chaz. Couldn’t blame him for being honest.
“When did you know you were done with Loretta?”
“Date numero uno,” he said. “Loretta is too stiff. She tries too hard to be likable. She’s no challenge in or out of bed. I need a scintillating, sexy, sophisticated woman, who’s a straight-up freak with bedroom skills beyond the ordinary.”
“Good luck,” I told him, chuckling into my glass.
Shaking his head, Chaz said, “Naw, man. She exists. Met her at this non-profit called I’m Not Locked Up, when I was upgrading their computer system.”
My brother had put his business on hold to fill in for me with the team. I guess this was a favor he’d done fo
r someone. Probably that Sindy woman.
“So you met a receptionist?”
“Hell, no. You’ll get to meet her. Soon. But let’s keep it real,” he said. “Loretta did all of that shit for herself. I didn’t interfere because she was helping you get stronger every day. Despite all she’s done, something is wrong with that girl, but I’m not sure what—”
“And you’re not staying around to find out, so you’re going to piss her off enough for her to call it off.”
Chaz smiled.
I reluctantly asked, “What are you going to do?”
“You know me. I’ve got it all planned. Let me handle that situation with Johnny Tyler too.”
I nodded. We tipped our glasses together.
My brother said, “When I cut ’em off, you cut ’em off too. Deal?”
I didn’t have ultimate control over what he did with Loretta. He could handle the situation with Madison’s dad because I was probably too close to focus strictly on business. I felt comfortable knowing whatever Chaz did, I had the last word about my marriage, and I wasn’t afraid to terminate it.
I nodded at my lil brother, then said, “Deal.”
CHAPTER 23
Loretta
“Baby, suck my dick right now.”
Again? Chaz’s sex drive was in overdrive. It was my fault. I should’ve taken care of his needs, too, while I was taking care of Chicago’s. I didn’t mind accommodating Chaz; but if I had to keep this up, when was he going to put a ring on my finger?
Not wanting to ruin the moment, I knelt on the mattress, leaned my head between his knees, held his stiff shaft, and began licking his balls. My tongue circled his scrotum, then teased the sensitive spot below his sac.
“Lick my asshole, Loretta. I love it when you do that.”
Since when? Chaz had this new request, which was making me uncomfortable. I’d never put my mouth on a man’s asshole. If I was going to keep this man, I had to please him. Since taking over for Chicago, I wondered if Chaz was getting his new idea from sexing other women.
I'd Rather Be With You Page 12
