The Hustler's Daughter Volume 2

by Pinky Dior

  The

  Hustler’s Daughter

  Part 2: The Final Expedition, Havana, Cuba

  Chapter One

  Prison

  In the federal prison for women, where murderers, drug dealers, and innocent women were held prisoner, Mercedes was one of many. A female guard stood on each side of her, securing Mercedes’s arms as they walked down the corridors. She rocked an orange jail jumpsuit with her inmate number, 101790, on the back of it and a wristband with her name and identification number on it. Her long, wavy, jet-black hair flowed down the sides of her cheeks. Having her hands cuffed behind her back and cuffs tight around her ankles made it hard for her to walk straight. Girls grilled Mercedes as the guards brought her to her cell. She just grilled them back, showing them she wasn’t intimidated and that she wasn’t the bitch to be fucked with. They got to her cell and one of the guards released her legs and hands from the cuffs. Mercedes shook her wrists, which ached agonizingly from the handcuffs being too tight.

  She walked in the cell and there was a dark-skinned female there. The female looked like a straight-up tomboy. Her hair was braided straight back into four, thick, nasty-looking braids that looked like dreads. If Mercedes had seen her on the street, she would have mistaken her for a boy, because that’s exactly what she looked like. Mercedes looked over her shoulder and saw the guards standing there for several seconds, before walking away.

  The girl stood up and grilled Mercedes, looking her up and down. She carefully checked Mercedes out as she bit down on her lip.

  Damn, this little bitch is bad! The girl thought as she stood there, staring at Mercedes for several seconds without saying anything. She saw Mercedes eyeing the top bunk, about to put her stuff up there.

  The girl cleared her throat. “The top bunk is mine,” she stated as she grabbed her stuff from the bottom bunk and threw it up onto the top bunk.

  Mercedes cut her eyes and didn’t even bother saying anything to her. She just plopped down on the bottom bunk and rolled over on the hard bed. She lay down on her back and shut her pretty green eyes. Mercedes didn’t ever think that she would be in jail. She lay on the hard bed reminiscing on when she used to sleep in her comfortable canopy bed with the thick blankets and cotton pillows that made her feel like she was in heaven. She wasn’t used to this, nowhere near it, and she knew she wouldn’t want to get used to it. Mercedes remembered the letter her father had written to her, telling her that whatever a person did in life, there were always consequences no matter what, and this was Mercedes’s consequence: jail.

  The next morning, the guards banged on the cells with a baton, and then several seconds later, the gates slowly opened up, letting them know it was time for breakfast. Mercedes didn’t want to wake up. She slowly opened up her eyes and her eyelids fluttered up and down as they fought to stay open. She rubbed them with her fists, wanting to go back to sleep. But she was starving and she needed something in her stomach. Mercedes huffed as she threw her legs over the bed and ran her fingers through her long hair, pulling it back into a ponytail.

  “What are you in here for?” her cellmate asked nosily as she jumped down from the top bunk and stared at Mercedes, waiting for a response.

  But she didn’t expect to get a rude response. “It’s none of your business,” Mercedes said humbly, but with a little bit of attitude.

  The girl covered her mouth with her balled-up fist as she laughed and looked at Mercedes. An evil look spread across her face and her big nose flared, revealing that Mercedes had pissed the girl off. “I asked you a question!” her cellmate retorted with an attitude of her own. “What are you in here for?” she asked again.

  Mercedes cracked a smile as she shook her head from side to side. She stood up and stepped in front of the girl. They stood face-to-face, but Mercedes stood at a distance, giving them breathing space. “And I said it’s none of your fucking business!” Mercedes stated slowly, loud and clear and with plenty of arrogance. “And if you really want to know, how about you go and read the fucking New York Times, bitch!” Mercedes advised her, leaving the girl speechless for a couple of seconds. “Yeah,” Mercedes nodded her head up and down, thinking the girl was done saying anything to her.

  As Mercedes got ready to turn around, the girl yanked her by her arm. She had a tight grip around her arm and didn’t want to let it go. Mercedes slowly turned her head. Oh no she didn’t! Mercedes thought. She turned her entire body around with a furious look on her face. Mercedes looked down in disbelief at the girl’s hand on her arm; then looked up from her arm and directly at her cellmate’s face.

  “You better get your fucking hands off of me!” Mercedes snapped.

  “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, Jessica…Emily…whatever the fuck your name is, or what type of fucking preppy background you came from.” She chuckled, assuming Mercedes was one of those preppy, spoiled bitches who lived in a big mansion somewhere in the suburbs. Of course, Mercedes used to have that lifestyle, but she wasn’t at all the preppy type. “But listen here,” Mercedes’s cellmate continued. “I’m Sharonda. This is my jail and I run this shit, bitch! So don’t think that your pretty ass won’t get fucked up in here!” her cellmate assured her as she waved her free hand in Mercedes’s face.

  Mercedes snatched her arm by the wrist and with a firm grip. She stepped in closer, letting her know who the fuck she was and that she was no pussy. The cellmate wore a malicious smile on her face.

  “First of all, bitch,” Mercedes said sarcastically, “my name is Mercedes Carter. Not Mercedes…Mercedes Carter,” she informed her. And as soon as she had stated her full government name, the girl knew exactly who Mercedes was, especially since her last name was Carter. The Carter family’s name rang bells in the streets of New York. “I come from a very wealthy family who got money. I’m not a low class, project income bitch like you, waiting on a fucking welfare check, bitch! I’m a Carter, bitch!” Mercedes barked, enraged, as her nose flared up.

  “Fuck you and the Carter family!” the girl spat as she pointed her finger around in the air. The girl didn’t know what kind of fight she had just started, but Mercedes was sure going to finish it. The cellmate thought that Mercedes was a pretty chick that had gotten locked up for something petty. Little did she know that Mercedes was in there for murder. The girl also thought Mercedes wouldn’t react, but she thought wrong.

  “That’s what I thought.” The girl turned around.

  Mercedes quickly turned around and lifted up her tongue, quickly removing a razor blade from her mouth. She charged at the girl and pushed her up against the wall, turning her around so she was facing her. She balled up her fist and punched her in the stomach as if she was a violent man beating up on a woman. Mercedes then slit the girl’s face, giving her a buck fifty from the corner of her eye all the way down to her jaw. Mercedes got a quick look at the damage before the girl held her face as she bled out. It was open so wide you could see the white meat as the blood trickled inside of it. It was disgusting and it made Mercedes’s stomach turn, but a devilish smirk appeared on her face. The girl was still trying to throw blows back, but that quickly ended when the guards rushed into the room and snatched them both up. Mercedes got the last hit as she dropped the razor to the ground.

  "Don’t you ever fucking disrespect my family like that again, bitch!” Mercedes spit on the floor as the guards had her by her arms, escorting her out of the cell.

  Mercedes grilled her cellmate as she was being taken out of the cell and everybody cheered and watched. For a new girl, they thought she’d be the one getting beat up, but it was the other way around. There wasn’t any question about who had won. Of course, it was Mercedes. She left that girl’s face split o
pen and leaking tremendous amounts of blood. Everybody tried to catch a glimpse of the girl’s face, but they couldn’t, because she held her face down in pain and shame.

  They threw Mercedes in the hole with no clothes on and in a turtle suit. She sat there in the dark for hours, which turned to days. She couldn’t believe this shit. She had just gotten there and she was already in the hole. Mercedes shook her head from side to side in disbelief. Mercedes lay in the hole shivering, since it was so cold down there.

  A C.O. finally opened up the door and said, “Mercedes Carter.”

  Mercedes got up and walked towards the door. Two C.O.’s grabbed her up and placed cuffs on her. They escorted her back to her cell and they whispered something to each other, then aloud they said, “We are changing your cell, so get your stuff.”

  Mercedes walked out and grilled Sharonda when she got back to general population. She was wearing a thick white bandage on her face. Sharonda looked up from a book she was reading and grilled Mercedes back.

  “It ain’t over, bitch!” she threatened.

  Mercedes ignored her as she grabbed her stuff. She noticed that Sharonda had gone through her things. “Go in my shit again and see what will happen to you!” Mercedes said with a disrespectful tone, and her New York accent and swagger came straight out.

  Mercedes turned to the guards, who had heard everything, but they didn’t say anything. It was as if they enjoyed seeing when the girls argued, which then escalated to fights. They escorted her to another cell, which was on the same floor, just in a different section. Mercedes held her belongings closely to her chest as she walked into her new cell. The guards yelled out to close the cell and she looked behind her as the cell gate slowly closed.

  Mercedes turned back around and her cellmate was staring at her. She was a pretty older woman and looked as if she was in her mid-thirties. Mercedes didn’t know for sure; she just took a wild guess. She stood in front of her as her new cellmate got up to greet her. She had a pretty caramel complexion, long brown hair that reached to mid-back and was braided into two French braids, and small lips. She was petite, but her body was nice and thick.

  Mercedes grilled the older woman and the woman stared back, letting her know she wasn’t afraid of Mercedes and didn’t want any type of trouble.

  “My name is Alana.” She extended her hand, but Mercedes looked down at her hand and then back up at her. “What’s your name?”

  Mercedes didn’t want to pass herself off as the girl that got friendly with motherfuckers and then they started asking favors and all that. She had heard stories about how girls in jail got down, and on that note, she was good. “Can I help you?” Mercedes shot her a nasty stare.

  “You don’t scare me, girl, not at all.” The older woman laughed as she dropped her hand to her side and shook her head.

  Mercedes wanted to say something, but she decided not to. She tossed her belongings on the bottom bunk, lay down, picked up her book, and started reading it.

  “What are you reading?” the woman questioned.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she replied dryly.

  “Oh, I was just asking.” Alana cocked back her head as she eyed the cover, wanting to know what she was reading, because she had read too many books in the many years that she had been locked up.

  “Listen, I didn’t come here to make friends.” Mercedes looked at Alana. “Now, old lady, back off!” Mercedes snapped.

  The lady threw her hands up, giving up as she hopped up on the top cell bunk and let Mercedes be. Mercedes felt bad because Alana seemed as if she was a friendly lady. But she assured herself that it wouldn’t help her out in any way, so she decided to keep it like that.

  ***

  The next day came quickly. Mercedes lay on her back on her bed, reading a novel written by Dutch entitled Dynasty that she had gotten from the jail library. Mercedes never used to read, but since she was in there, she decided to occupy her free time by doing something. She had heard about the author Dutch and about his gangsta Dutch series that everybody read and raved about in the streets. Those books were off the chain and everybody had stuck their noses into his books, so Mercedes figured she’d do the same. Mercedes lowered her book as she looked up and heard the buzzing of the gates.

  A female guard stood there, opening up the gate. “Mercedes Carter, you have a visit.”

  Mercedes smiled inside. She got up from her bed, stood up, and quickly put on her orange jumpsuit.

  “Damn, eighteen years I’ve been in here and not one visit,” Alana said to herself.

  Mercedes looked up and smiled. That’s what the fuck you get! Mercedes hid her book underneath her pillow and emerged from the cell. The guards motioned for her to turn around and gripped her arms as they walked her to the visiting area.

  “Over there.” The guard pointed to where her visitor was sitting.

  Mercedes walked over and a gracious smile appeared across her face when she saw her mother sitting down on the opposite side of where Mercedes was about to sit. Mercedes pulled out the chair and sat down.

  “What’s up, Ma?”

  “Hey baby.” Maria smiled. “How are you doing in here?”

  “I got enough money in my canteen. I’m eating.” They both chuckled.

  “Yeah, I just put a couple of bucks in your canteen,” her mother added in. She looked at Mercedes and felt bad for her. She had never once in her lifetime come to visit anyone in jail—not even her husband when he was alive. “I see you’re still as beautiful as the last time I saw you,” her mother complimented her. “It looks like you stepped right out the hair salon,” her mother joked, but the look on her face was serious.

  “Thanks, Ma,” Mercedes chuckled. “You look beautiful too, Ma.”

  Maria held her head down and held back the tears that were engulfing her eyes. Maria’s face wasn’t burned to the degree that people would stare at her and call her ugly. Only one side of her face was burned, but not too badly. Mercedes eyed her mother’s outfit as she covered her body, trying to hide the burns, which were on her arms.

  “So Ma, did Auntie Brenda find a place yet?” Mercedes tried to switch up the subject because she saw her mother getting emotional.

  “Well, they relocated them to a shelter down in Brooklyn, and they got me living in a shelter too.” Maria sighed.

  “A shelter? Ma, what happened to the house? Did you ever sell it?”

  “Yeah, I sold it,” Maria admitted. “The cops tried to seize the house and the cars, but they couldn’t, because the house was in my name and I showed them the working papers from my salon. I didn’t make much from the house sale, because I sold it on such a short notice. I took the money and put it away for a rainy day. So now, I’m just living in a shelter near Brenda to help her out with the kids as well. But the cars… I had some people drive them up and store them in a garage until I settle down and figure something out.”

  “He taught us well, didn’t he?” Mercedes smirked, referring to her father.

  “Yes he did, sweetie. Your father was a very wonderful and smart man,” Maria reminisced. “Your father was just everything I’ve always wanted in life, my dream man. Oh yeah, I also closed down the hair salon.”

  “What? Why, Ma? Why did you do that?”

  “Because with everything that is going on, your father’s death is weighing down on me. And with you getting locked up, I just can’t.”

  Mercedes knew her mom was about to break down and cry, so she quickly changed the subject. “It’s cool, Ma. So what’s up with the lawyer? Did you find one for me?”

  “Well, I called up your father’s old lawyer. Her name is Ms. Alberto. Well, she actually doesn’t like to be called by that. Her name is Karen,” Maria informed her. “So she said that she would handle your case.”

  “Is she good?” Mercedes wondered. “Because I need a top-notch lawyer. Money ain’t a thang,” Mercedes assured her mother.

  “Of course, Mercedes. She’s one of the top lawyers who deals with a lot
of drug dealers and murderers, and she only deals with the ones who have a lot of money. She’s won most of her cases, and every time your father got caught up by the law, he always beat whatever he was charged with. Why do you think your father was always around?”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Mercedes raved. “Because they trying to give me life.” Mercedes remembered one of the detectives saying that to her when they were putting her in the back of the NYPD police cruiser.

  “Life? Uh-uh, my baby isn’t staying in here for no life! Trust and believe, it would go down in that courtroom!” They both busted out into laughter.

  Mercedes shook her head. “You are crazy, Ma!” Mercedes smiled. “Did you tell Candy and the girls about coming to my court date?” Mercedes asked.

  “Yes, baby, I talked to them, and they said they will be there at nine o’clock sharp to support you.” Maria smiled. “Don’t worry, baby, the rest of the Carter family will be there too: Brenda and her kids and friends of the family.”

  “Good! I need all the support I can get.” Mercedes was happy. Silence filled the phone as Mercedes nervously she bit down on her bottom lip and played with her fingers. “Ma?” Mercedes looked up at her mom.

  “Yes, baby?”

  “What if I wanted to…to inherit daddy’s business?”

  “What?” Maria screamed. Maria toned down her voice as she noticed that all eyes were on her. “What do you mean inherit your father’s business?” Maria lowered her voice, which was raging in anger. She stared intensely into her daughter’s eyes, wondering what she was thinking.

  “Ma, calm down.” Mercedes took in a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about it lately and, I mean, no one is around to run the family business. I think it’s my part to take the lead of the Carter family. I mean, why not, Ma?”

  “Because, Mercedes, you will end up dead or in jail for life!” her mother yelled as she looked around. “And I can’t allow them to take you from me too. You’re the only daughter that I have.” Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t picture her daughter taking over her husband’s business; she wouldn’t allow it.