Chapter 16
Scheming
Ijumped up outta my sleep; I could tell I had been sleeping too long.
I sat straight up in bed, rubbed my eyes, and looked around.
The sun was already hitting the yard, bouncing off the walls of the block, lighting up everything I hated about being locked in.
I thought by now I would be getting calls from the guards about Groom and this bond, but that wasn’t the case.
I walked outta my cell, checked to see who was on duty, and walked back in my cell and called Mr. Groom’s cell.
No answer, straight to voicemail. I looked at the phone and called his bitch ass again. This time, it rang and then went to voicemail.
That nigga was dogging me. My blood started to heat up like I’d been walking through hell. I sat on my bed and set the phone beside me, waiting for him to call me back.
Noise started to get loud on the block, more niggas were starting to wake up, and some other niggas started to fight. I sat on my bed watching it all, knowing what was gonna happen next.
Lockdown.
Monte came in shortly after they called it, slamming the cell door shut.
“Niggas know how to fuck up every damn thing,” he said, looking in my direction, and by the look on my face, he could tell I didn’t care about the shit. “You good, nigga?”
“Hell nah, that bitch ass lawyer of mine dogging me. The nigga was supposed to try to get me a bond today, but I haven’t heard shit from him.”
He shook his head. “Damn, nigga, that’s tough. Did you call his office?”
I shook my finger at him. “You are a smart nigga.”
I hopped on my phone and called the office, waiting for somebody to answer.
I felt like the walls were closing in on me.
Like I could hear every lil’ thing in surround sound, all the cell doors locking in unison.
Niggas inside their cell mad and cussing out the group of niggas that was going to the hole.
Finally, his receptionist picked up.
“Groom’s Law Firm, how can I help you?”
“Yeah,” I said low. “I’ve been trying to call Mr. Groom’s cell phone, and he’s not picking up for me,” I responded.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, as I could hear her typing. “Mr. Groom is not in yet. Can I take a message?”
“Man, what? That nigga was supposed to file shit to get me a bond.”
“What’s your name?” she fired back.
“Gio, Gio Cannon.”
There was a slight pause. She continued to type, and then this bitch said, “I’m sorry, sir, nothing was filed today.”
“What the fuck you mean?!” I yelled into the phone.
Monte looked at me crazy; I know my face was twisted up. I jumped off the bed and tried to keep myself from yelling.
“What the fuck do you mean that nigga didn’t file shit? He came here, I talked to him, and he told me he was on the shit. Did my girl tell him to pull out?”
The bitched slammed on them damn keys some more.
“No, Mr. Cannon, nobody asked him to pull out. He just didn’t file anything or have a court runner do it. And again, he’s not in today, and nothing for you was passed on to anybody else.”
I nodded. “Tell that bitch I’d better know something by the end of the day.”
“Sir—"
“Bitch, you heard what the fuck you said.”
I cut that bitch off and hung up the phone and hid it, shaking my head.
“That nigga didn’t even file anything; he’s not even in the fuckin’ office.”
“Damn, nigga,” Monte said. “She gonna tell him to come view you?”
I nodded. “She better, I’m not playin’ with that nigga.”
Monte ain’t say nothing right away.
The block got quiet after a while, not really quiet, but the type of noise just sitting in the background. Niggas talking through vents, somebody still mad about the fight, my nigga Chuck doing his walk through, giving me a nod as he walked by.
I laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I was supposed to pullin’ up, getting my girl back on some cool Romeo and Juliet shit, but instead, I was still sittin’ behind the fuckin’ wall. I sucked my teeth, pissed at that fuckin’ lawyer, and took my ass to sleep.
After a while, I felt a tap on my foot, and I looked down to see the guard, Charlie, standing there.
“Your lawyer here.”
I nodded and sat straight up.
“’Bout fuckin’ time.”
I hopped off the bed, got cuffed, and got taken down to the visiting rooms.
Charlie took me down the hall and opened the door to the room.
“You better have a good ass excuse,” I said before the cuffs were even off me.
I walked around the table, and he looked at me worried.
“Mr. Cannon, I’m sorry. Listen, I was late getting everything submitted for the day, but it will be in front of the judge first thing in the morning.”
I shook my head. “Nigga, you know you’re playin’ with my life?!”
He nodded. “I know I dropped the ball, and I’m sorry, but I’m for sure that I will have you out tomorrow.”
I nodded and stared at him before I responded.
“You better have me out tomorrow, or that’s your ass.”
He stood up and knocked on the door. The guard came in, and I stood up for the guard to cuff me. I walked out while staring him down.
When I got back to my cell and was alone, I made a call to Bully.
“What you need, nigga?” he asked, answering the phone.
“I need you to be at court in the morning. My bitch ass lawyer was supposed to do my bond today, but he said he got me in the morning. Where is the money I left with Islah?”
He laughed. “Gone, nigga, to wherever she’s moving to.”
I sucked my teeth. I didn’t want to hear that shit.
“Oh, yeah, I saw her last night.”
I smiled. “Oh yeah? She was around the way?”
“Yeah, bringing me your house key.”
I let out a deep breath to try to keep myself from yellin’.
“She did what?”
“Brought me your house key.”
I shook my head and ran my tongue across my teeth.
“Just be at the courthouse tomorrow. I will handle that shit later.”
We hung up, and I chilled for the rest of the day in my cell, thinking about Islah and talking to a few niggas that came through.
After the last count, I went straight to sleep, thinking about Islah, seeing her face, touching her soft skin.
I missed her.
I wanted her,
I didn’t give a fuck what she thought about us; I had the last say.
The next morning, I was up before count, praying that Groom didn’t fuck up.
After breakfast, I got called to pack my shit, and I left it all for Monte.
The guard came to get me and laughed.
“You don’t want none of that shit, huh?”
I shook my head. “The only thing I want is these cuffs on me for the last time; let’s go.”
He laughed, cuffed me up, and took me down to processing. About twenty minutes later I was walking out the damn jail to see not my girl waiting for me like I used to, but Bully’s big ass.
I dapped him up and thanked him for scooping a nigga.
“Where to, nigga?”
“Take me to the crib.”
Bully nodded and pulled off.
I fell asleep on the ride and woke up to Bully elbowing me in my side.
“Wake the fuck up, nigga, we here, and damn, this house is nice.”
I laughed, stretched, and we hopped out. Bully gave me the key, and we walked inside; Bully went to check out the place while I went to the living room, looking at all my shit that was left there.
My clothes, shoes, car keys, old shit out the closets, and pictures with me and Islah.
I picked one frame up and stared at it. I could still remember the day we took it. I walked over the window, still holding the picture, when Bully called my name.
As I went to sit it down, I saw it.
The ring.
Her ring.
I picked it up and stared at it, ignoring Bully calling me, until he came back into the living room.
“Nigga, you hear me callin’ you? That damn pull in your backyard is callin’ for a part—what is that?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Her ring.” I tried to say it calm, but I heard the attitude in my voice.
Bully stayed silent as I stared into the ring as if it could tell me where the fuck she was at.
“Take me to my car, I need to get back in motion,” I said, setting the ring back down on the window. “I need to get this house ready for my girl.”