by Quan Millz
All of a sudden, I heard a voice say, “For promoting prostitution in the first degree. Also wire fraud.” I glanced over my shoulder. It was fucking Darryl! He wasn’t dressed like a street nigga. He had on a short-sleeve black shirt, some jeans and old ass Jordans. A big ass black bulletproof vest that had the letters “CPD” written on it in white wrapped around his chest.
“NAH, NIGGA, YOU SET ME UP!”
“No…You set yourself up. Take her down to the precinct.” Darryl flashed a smile then walked off as the two cops hauled me and Kiara downstairs and into the back of a cruiser.
Chapter Three
“Nashawna Spearman! Let’s go! Bond hearing is coming up!” a white female jail guard howled as she opened the jail cell.
It was a Friday morning. Ten am just struck the clock inside of my cell.
On any other Friday morning, I would’ve had my tired ass still in bed. I usually danced from seven till four am on Thursday nights, so my Friday mornings were reserved for a bitch to get her beauty sleep.
But now, here I was sitting inside a shared jail cell. I was on high alert, observing these other crazy looking bitches. They were gawking me down as if I owed them something! This one bitch in the corner looked like she was ready to eat me the fuck alive! Bitch cray cray for real. Look like Queen Latifah on steroids.
In all of my twenty-three years of living, I ain’t never stepped foot inside of a jail cell. Never even been inside of a police station. Yeah, even though my baby daddy locked up, I ain’t never visited his ass. Not once! I don’t do jail.
I was sitting in my bed all the way off to the side when the jail guard called my name. No longer in my sexy ass outfit, I was now in a baggy, Cook County Jail-issued orange jumpsuit wondering how all of this even went the fuck down!
I quickly got up off my bed and ran toward the cell opening next to the guard. I was still trying to wrap my head around why the bitches inside of here looked like straight up niggas. Built like them, too! Another bitch in here look like Lil Wayne and a zombie crack head ass bitch had a baby.
The jail guard proceeded to slap handcuffs on me and then led me out of the cell and down to a bullpen – a fucking cage that was like a waiting area. The bullpen was already packed with other inmates. We were all waiting for our hearing time at court.
I was fucking livid. Turned out that fucking Darryl was an undercover jake and was working to bust prostitution rings inside of strip clubs. I damn sure wasn’t a part of no ring though. I did all of my hoe activities on my own. It was so crazy though – just as I was about to finesse that nigga, his ass finessed me first!
This shit was just so unbelievable! Seemed like the cops ain’t had nothing better else to do but to go after a hardworking hoe that was just tryna put food on her fucking table. But I guess that was part of the game, right? That was some bullshit for real though…
Something should’ve told me that fat ass nigga was on some other shit. Just the way he moved. The questions he asked. Something was just off about him. He was so insistent on paying me, too. Like, I fucked other niggas from the club all the time yet he was the first willing to pay big money for my honey.
The noise and crowdedness of the bullpen was making me nauseous. I just wanted this shit to be over already. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that this clown really busted me for prostitution. I didn’t even realize that shit was still against the law!
My stomach grumbled. I hadn’t eaten a damn thing yet since I’d been here. Some funky ass breakfast was served to us at six AM this morning, however, I refused to eat that nasty shit slop! Besides, I was gonna bond out anyways and head my ass straight home where I had some real food in my fridge!
Luckily, I had talked to one of my guys and I got hooked up with a bail bondsman. My bond was apparently set at $20,000 so I only had to come up with $2,000 to get the fuck up out of here.
“NuNu!” I turned around when I heard a familiar voice calling my name. It was Kiara. “GIRL!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!?” I yelled.
Kiara, still looking scared as hell, meandered through the thick crowd of women and stood by my side. “Bitch, I’m mad at you! You said nothing was gonna happen!”
“Kiara, don’t even start that mess now! It’s not even a big deal. Besides, didn’t you bond out?!?”
“No! I can’t afford it!”
“Why you ain’t call your peoples?!?”
“I did! They can’t afford it! And they said I should’ve known better! I can’t stay in here, girl! I got fucking kids! You lied to me!”
“Bitch, I didn’t lie to you! You knew the risks of what we were doing, so don’t fucking go there!”
“WELL, I had to do what I had to do!”
I paused for a moment and thought about what she just said. “Fuck you talkin’ about?” I asked.
“Girl, I told them detectives the truth about everything!”
“YOU WHAT?!? BITCH, ARE YOU CRAZY?!? YOU SNITCHED?!?”
Suddenly the chatter inside the bullpen dissipated and all eyes were on us. “I did what I had to do! Bitch, I got kids! You don’t!”
“FUCK YOU, YOU OLE RAGGEDY ASS, INFORMANT ASS BITCH! I SHOULD BEAT CHO ASS!” Just as I was about to wrap my paws around this scaredy pussy ass hoe for running her mouth to twelve, I heard my name being called again.
“Nashawna Spearman! You’re next!”
“Bitch, you lucky they called my name! We gon see about this shit though! Stupid, retarded ass hoe!”
“Fuck you, NuNu! You a bird anyways! All yo stupid shit gon come back to you!”
“FUCK YOU, HOE!”
“HEY! HEY! CUT THAT OUT OR BOTH YOU HUSSIES ARE GOING TO SOLITARY CONFINEMENT!” the jail guard howled as she pulled me out of the bull pen. Guess she sensed the sudden beef and she looked like she was ready to break up a fight. It wasn’t gon be no fight though ‘cuz I was gonna beat that bitch’s ass!
Chapter Four
“Where are we going?” I asked the jail guard as she escorted me down to an area past the actual bond court hearing room. “Just be quiet…The prosecutors wanna cut you a deal.”
“But I bonded out!” I said with a raised brow. This bitch fuckin’ with me.
“Okay? And? I’m just taking you to where you’ve been requested to go, young lady,” the guard explained.
We arrived at a separate area not too far away from the court. Then I was walked into a small visitation room. This mixed-up, Jhene Aiko-looking ass bitch and an older white dude with a head full of gray hair were sitting down at the table engaging in small talk.
The moment I walked in, their light conversation ceased. The white guy threw his gaze toward me and said, “Good morning, Ms.Spearman. Have a seat.”
The white jail guard, who looked like a straight-up bulldagger, then walked me over to an empty seat nestled between these two muhfuckas. She took the cuffs off my hand and then I proceeded to sit down. “Why am I here? I bonded out. I’m confused…”
“Well, not so fast, young lady,” the mixed-looking hoe said. She looked like she was about in her late-twenties. Maybe early thirties. “We filed a motion to delay your bond hearing so we can offer you a plea deal. Just because you bonded out doesn’t mean you’re free.”
“I know what the fuck bond out mean, lady! I ain’t stupid. And I wanna speak to a lawyer!”
The white guy looked at the mixed bitch and gave her this look. It was like he was low-key telling her to shut the fuck up ‘cuz she was dead ass wrong for talking to me like I was some lil ass kid. He then he looked at me and said, “She didn’t mean it like that. But, we want you to consider a plea deal before any of this goes to trial.”
“Nah, fuck that! I ain’t taking no plea at all! And I ain’t sayin’ shit! Where’s my lawyer?!?”
Suddenly, the white guy yanked out some paperwork from a briefcase, flew past a few pages and then slid the thick wad of paper toward me. “Look at that,” he said. “You see your friend is running her mouth to us left and right. Look, we’re abou
t to offer her a deal, too. But understand this, she’s gonna get off if she tells us more about your shenanigans. But You…You go to state prison for eight years.”
“THE FUCK FOR WHAT?!? Just for selling my own pussy?!?” This muhfuckas was on some other shit! Eight years! And then they was accusing me of wire fraud?!? I don’t even know what that means! Nah, I’m gonna fight this bullshit.
“Nashawna, no, and please lower your voice,” the mixed bitch said.
“Who the fuck is ya’ll anyways?” I asked.
“Oh, sorry we didn’t introduce ourselves. I’m Mark Rowan. Assistant State’s Attorney with the Cook County Prosecutor’s office. This is my colleague, Rasheedah. Nice to meet you,” the man said as he extended his hand to shake mines.
This cracka must’ve thought I was stupid. I wasn’t gon budge to nothin’. I wasn’t gon say shit! Not even sign shit! I wasn’t even gonna shake this cracka’s hand. Got me fucked up. I could’ve been out already but these muhfuckas was on some straight bullshit.
He pulled his hand back and rolled his eyes. “Anyways, look, you’re making this more difficult than what it needs to be. Here’s our deal to you. You’ll be on probation for three years. You can’t dance at the strip club anymore. And also, you have to do three-hundred hours of community service.”
“Why I can’t work at the strip club no more?!? That ain’t against the law!” I protested. “Besides, ya’ll still ain’t tell me what the fuck I did! Ya’ll got me on this bogus charge!”
“When you made that CashApp arrangement through text message with Darryl, that’s also considered a wire fraud charge, missy. Now that right there is serious jail time. You know why? Because that’s the Feds. We already spoke to them. They are willing to drop that charge if you just accept our deal. If not, we’ll then refer your case over to the Feds. They will dig and dig until they hit lava. You wanna go down that route? Feds don’t like to do plea deals either. At least with us, we are lenient.”
“Why you lenient or whatever the fuck that means?!?”
“Lenient means forgiving,” Rasheeda, the other prosecutor, replied. “Look, young lady, you still have a life ahead of you. And we know you have a son.”
“Okay, and? I barely see him!”
“Well, that can change if you do the right thing. Besides, you might have a change a heart one day. You want him to visit you behind a piece of glass?” Mark asked with a raised brow.
Suddenly, I began to get somewhat nervous. I slowly shook my head wondering if this was all some big setup. “And what about Kiara? She just gets to walk away?”
“Yes…,” Rasheeda said. “But don’t worry about Kiara. Worry about you.”
“You damn right!”
“So what is it going to be?” Mark asked.
“FINE! Fuck it! What I gotta sign?”
Mark quickly yanked another set of papers from his briefcase, flipped through the thick paperwork and then handed me back the file with his finger pointed to a signature line. He pulled out a pen from his suit jacket’s pocket and handed it to me. “Sign there and date it.”
“This some straight-up bullshit. Where the fuck I’m finne do community service at anyways?!?”
“Glad you asked. After you get out, your probation officer is going to arrange community service for you. Capeesh?” Mark said.
“Fine. Whatever…” I leaned back in the chair and held my arms by their elbows. I shook my head out of disbelief.
Chapter Five
After I got done talking to the two prosecutors, I was immediately taken back to my cell. I changed my clothes and then was taken back down to finish my release paperwork.
I had called Jessica just before I was taken back to my cell. I told her what had happened to me and Kiara. I apologized for going after her nigga the way I did. Yeah, so, I fucked Tay. But he wasn’t shit no way. She knew he was a fuckboy, too. Nigga ain’t have no job. Had three kids he can’t even take care of. And then the nigga is community dick. He’d fuck any and everything with a hole. She gave his ass the boot finally. Anyways – so, we squashed our beef immediately. Then I had asked her if she could bring me a change of clothes. I also asked if she could take me back to my crib. She didn’t even hesitate. In fact, not only did she bring me a change of clothes, but she was outside waiting for me to get out. That was what a real ass friend supposed to do. Shit, what a real ass bitch supposed to do…unlike Kiara’s scary snitchin’ ass.
But bahhhbaaaayyyy! I knew one thing for sure though. If AND WHEN (‘cuz I know it’s coming) I see that raggedy ass, tired ass, stank pussy-smellin’ bitch in the streets, I’m finne cut her ass. AND then I’mma let everyone know her ass a snitch. I should even cut her stupid ass in front of her ugly ass, retarded ass kids so they can see they stupid ass mammy ain’t on shit. I’on give a fuck! Bitch crossed me big time!
But now that I thought about it, I got papers on me now. Three years of fucking probation! I’on believe this shit! Just for selling my OWN pussy, mind you.
ANYWAYS…
I was no longer in a jumpsuit. I was in a t-shirt, some leggings and some Jordan’s. Basic shit. But it was better than that jail-issued orange one-piece.
With a jail guard to my side, I sauntered down into my probation officer’s office. He was some short, chubby old nigga with a perm. Nigga looked like a Temptation. He was reading a newspaper when he walked in.
“Nashawna Spearman,” he said and smiled.
“Yes.”
“Have a seat, young lady,” he replied. The jail guard then walked off. I sat down.
“My name is Walter Baines. I’ll be your assigned probation officer for the next three years. I see you are new to all of this. So, I’m going to go over everything, okay?”
“Okay…,” I replied, slightly rolling my eyes as I sat back in the chair.
Walter’s fat ugly ass scanned me up and down for a second and then uttered, “Drop the attitude. I’m not the one, young lady.”
“I ain’t got an attitude!” I said rolling my neck. Well, I did have a little attitude. But not ‘cuz of him. ‘Cuz of all of this bullshit.
“I hear an attitude though…”
Then silence came between us.
He said, “Look. I’m gonna try to make this as easy as possible for the both of us.”
For the next thirty minutes or so, he went over every single rule I had to abide by. I had to check in with him every week on Thursdays. I had to be in the house before nine. I couldn’t work at any strip or gentlemen’s club. I had to track that I was looking for “gainful, full-time employment” or whatever the fuck that meant. Mr. Baines went on and on until finally, he came down to talking about my community service requirement.
“Okay, the State is also mandating you complete three-hundred hours of community service. I have three options for you. First one is a homeless shelter. St. Sabina in Auburn-Gresham is our partner. The second is a food pantry out in Roseland. The third is a church on 35th street. Apostolic Missionary Baptist Church. You’d be working with young women there.”
“Shit, just make me do to the church. The two other ones sound far from where I live.”
“That’s what I thought you’d choose. Good choice. I know Pastor Wilson personally. He’s a good man. A true servant of the people. You know, he’s also running for Mayor.”
“Oh okay…,” I replied not really caring. I just want this old, fat nigga to hurry the fuck up so I can jet. I need some dick, too. And really some weed. But now I was going to be tested for drugs and alcohol literally every two weeks. So sparking up a blunt was going to be a big no-no. But dick I can get and get plenty of. A bitch wanted some crab legs, too. I know just the perfect nigga to give me that combo.
“Here’s the contact information for the church. Please call Gloria Jackson, the church’s secretary, to arrange your service requirement. I will need her written confirmation ASAP. Have her fill out this form when you meet with her and bring this back on our next appointment,” Mr. Baines explained
as he handed me a slew of paperwork.
“Got it!” I replied with a fake smile.
“Well, that’s about it,” he said as he stood up. I stood up, too. Thank God! “By the way…,” Mr. Baines said as he reached his hand out to shake mines. I slowly shook it back. “Too bad you can’t dance no more though. I used to see you all the time at The Factory.”
Mr. Baines scanned me up and down and then bit his lip.
“What?!?” I exclaimed with a scrunched face.
“Storm, right?”
My eyes widened. I’d be damned! “Look, I gotta go!” I stormed out of his office. Eww! I can’t believe I was gonna have to deal with this fucking low-life creep for the next three years. Oh hell no! This nigga done seen me strip?!?!? I was gonna complain about that and get a new probation officer.
I took off and made my way into the parking lot of the jail.
“NuNu!”
I heard someone calling my name.
I spun on my feet for a second until I saw Jessica waving me down as she stood outside of her car.
“Hurry up, bitch! I’m tryna get my pussy ate!”
Chapter Six
I playfully ran up to Jessica and said, “Girl, you crazy as fuck! Why would you scream that shit out loud in the parking lot for all of these niggas to hear you?!?”
“Girl, I’on CUR! It’s the muhfuckin' truth anyways!” Jessica laughed as wind blew through her purple bundles. My bitch stayed glowed the fuck up out here in these streets.
Jessica was a thick ass redbone who would remind you of Meg The Stallion but with lighter skin. Her eyes were a mix of light green and blue. Her mama was Dominican and Puerto Rican and her daddy was half-black and half-Italian. That was where she got her mixed looks from.
“You ain’t never lied. I wanna get mines ate, too. But now I’m too stressed the fuck out. I just want some weed, dick and vodka, bitch. I am just so upset all this fucking happened,” I explained as I got into her Beemer.
