Chapter 1 #2
Three hundred and forty days. This jail had been my home for the last three hundred and forty fucking days.
Seeing the same niggas every single fucking day that didn’t share blood with you made you never want to do illegal shit ever again.
Dealing with these lowdown, dirty-ass CO’s made you want to get out, find their asses, and beat the fuck out of them to see if they could really back up all that tough shit they spat inside these walls.
Three hundred and forty days of my freedom were taken from me, and another felony was added to my record.
Three hundred and forty days of sharing dirty showers, surviving on oodles and noodles, missing holidays, and missing time with my family.
All because of one bad decision. Not only did I miss my family, but I’d gone a year without pussy.
I had the opportunity to knock some of these BBL bandit-ass COs off, but with how I was feeling, I was staying far away from these bitches in and outside of prison.
If I hadn’t learned shit else in this motherfucker, I’d learned discipline.
The guard removed the cuffs from my wrist, and I refrained from rubbing them.
He’d had them way too tight, but that wasn’t nothing new.
Lowdown COs made my fucking ass itch. They’d better hope I didn’t catch their asses on the streets.
I was walking a straight and narrow, but I could maybe risk freedom one more time to beat their asses.
The lady behind the discharge glass gave me “fuck me” eyes, even though she was old enough to be my mama.
Ignoring her advances, I waited for her to hand me my check.
I wasn’t expecting it to be the eight bands I’d had in my pocket when I arrived, but if it was anything less than six, I was acting a damn fool.
I didn’t give a fuck if it was my first day out; stealing from me was some shit that I didn’t tolerate.
Snatching the check from the small gap in the glass that separated us, I was shocked to see that it was for the entire eight grand.
She’d said something to me, but I walked off, waiting to be buzzed out as I placed the check in my pocket.
My brother, Turo, had dropped off a Nike set with socks, underwear, a white beater, and Jordan 1s days ago.
It felt good to be out of those dingy-ass prison clothing and would feel even better when they opened this door so I could all but run to my brother, Tulscan.
Baaaaaannnng
The door swung open, and instead of sunlight, I was greeted by gray skies.
I knew them niggas outside were mad as fuck that the clouds were blocking the sun during their free time.
Looking from the sky to the guards to the rusty gates that surrounded the building, I inhaled the damp air.
I had replayed this day in my head over a million times in the past year, but not once did I imagine it being all dark and gloomy.
In my dreams, the sun was shining as I skipped to my brother’s ride.
I didn’t give a damn if there had been a tornado outside—as long as I was out of this place, I was cool.
The fresh air did something to my soul, producing a broad smile on my face.
I didn't care what anybody said, even in the yard, the air was tainted. It didn’t breathe the same.
As I walked through the gates and made a right, the view of the parking lot had me quickening my steps.
When I didn’t spot Tulscan’s G-Wagon, my smile dropped.
I’d talked to that nigga every day this week, multiple times a day, about the time I was being released.
I scanned the parking lot one more time just to make sure I hadn’t missed his car.
I didn’t have a phone because it hadn’t been on me when I got locked up.
There was no way in hell I was turning my ass back around and asking to use their phone.
I would walk if I had to. I was two hours outside of Atlanta, but I’d take the bus if need be.
But shit, I didn’t have no bus funding since I declined the jail’s offer for the MetroCard when they presented it in anticipation of today.
I also didn’t have an ID on me to be able to cash the damn check.
Fuck it.
I decided I would walk because all that mattered was my freedom. Freedom, family, and this eight-thousand-dollar check were all I had, but that was more than ninety percent of those niggas behind bars had.
“Damn, it’s been that long that you don’t recognize your brother?”
Pausing in my stride, I turned to see a dark-skinned nigga leaning against a big-ass, tricked-out pickup truck.
My brothers and I shared the exact same face.
I got a bit lighter than them during the winter months, like now, with it being February.
This nigga, though. He and I shared a handful of features.
Our nose, eyes, and lip shape were identical, but he didn’t look like a Payne.
Still, my mother had confirmed he was indeed my brother.
With a neutral expression on my face, I approached him.
His hand was crossed at his belt, and there was a Jesus piece on his neck.
I didn’t know what cologne he was wearing, but that shit greeted me before I even got within an inch of him.
He was going to have to pass the name of that to me, and when I got back straight, I would add it to my collection.
As for now, I wasn’t buying shit that wasn’t a necessity.
Instead of slapping his hand, I stood an arm’s length away from him and waited for him to tell me why he was here instead of my brother, my real brother.
“First day out. I hope it’s yo’ last one.”
Chuckling, I couldn’t even check him about getting on me. I was too damn old to be up in here on bullshit-ass charges. So, I would give him that because if I could help it, I wouldn’t be in this bitch ever again.
“Hell yeah, it is.”
We both glared at each other. The last time I’d seen this nigga was when I sold him a painting Turo had stolen while on a mission with the Navarros.
This nigga had paid a grip for that bitch, and when he revealed that he was my brother, I knew it was the only reason he’d gotten the painting up off me.
We exchanged numbers, and he’d propositioned me to join the mob.
After our first conversation, we hadn’t made a move beyond that.
I was skeptical about the shit, but when my mama confirmed he was indeed my brother, I decided, as long as it was getting me rich, I was joining whatever the fuck it was he wanted me to join.
My mother’s sons didn’t agree with the shit, but I was past whatever they were talking about.
Before I could reach back out to the nigga since it had taken him so long to reach out to me, I’d caught a charge and had been in this bitch ever since.
I hadn’t even thought about his ass once while doing my bid, so seeing him out here was shocking, to say the least.
“You not fucking with me,” my daddy’s son rubbed his hand down his goatee.
“I’m just tryna see what you on. Why you here?”
“Shit, why you here?” he retorted.
My expression hardened. “Because I put my trust in the wrong muthafucka.”
“You here on domestic violence charges. Let’s call it what the fuck it is. You put your trust in the wrong bitch.”
His words stung. But the shit was true.
I’d been a fucking player; fucking women by the boatloads.
I was a young turnt nigga. Many of my brothers had settled down.
Tulscan was the latest one to do so, wifing up a fine-ass real estate agent from the Bay.
But me? I was having my fucking way. I told my brother that I was moving from the A to Jagoda Bay.
I was excited to not only be in the same city as my sister and nephews, but was glad to be thrown into a world of new fine-ass women.
While visiting for Tuscany’s baby shower, I was able to get a glimpse of just how Jagoda Bay gave it up.
The women there were top-fucking tier. Right when I was about to have my newest sister-in-law find me a spot in her city, I let her and my brother’s lovey-dovey shit rub off on me.
I met a bitch, fell for her, and moved her in.
That shit not only halted my move, but also ruined my fucking life.
As fine as Stella was, the bitch was equally toxic.
All we did was fuck and fight. The shit had never been physical, though.
Not until I caught her stank pussy ass in my bed fucking another nigga.
I don’t even put my hands on women, but I tried to murk her and that nigga.
Due to the neighborhood I lived in, my black ass was hauled to jail and has been here ever since.
Stella was the reason I’d turned down many of the fine-ass COs who tried to get this pressure up out of me.
I was good on pussy for now. I just wanted to get my shit back in order.
“Aye, I’m not here to kick you while you down.” My daddy’s son brought me back from taking a walk down memory lane.
“Couldn’t fool me,” I replied, my face still neutral.
Even though this nigga was dressed plainly in a navy hoodie, matching sweats, and white Forces, I could tell that his life had elevated since he’d bought the portrait.
He had to have some money at the time to drop a ticket on the painting, but now, I could tell he was really holding from his truck to his demeanor.
He wasn’t flashy and didn’t have on any jewelry outside of the gold Jesus piece, but his aura gave off that he was caked up.
I wasn’t counting no other niggas pockets, though, even if we came from the same nutsack.
I just wanted to know what the fuck this nigga wanted so I could be on my merry way.
“We come from the same man,” he flatly stated. He didn’t seem to be too enthusiastic about what he’d just said, further confusing me.