11. Vani #2
I was also certain that everyone thought I was dumb as hell for not telling the police that the drugs belonged to Jared.
But that wasn’t how it worked. He didn’t force me to take his money and agree to transport his drugs.
He didn’t force me to be distracted and run a red light with an insane amount of meth in the fucking car.
And he damn sure didn’t force me to be so money hungry that I didn’t even ask him what the fuck was in the car.
When I found out it was meth I almost shit a brick.
When I was nervous or upset, I didn’t have an appetite.
Add in the fact that the food they served looked and smelled like dog food, and I went three days without eating.
Someone put money on my account and right when I started feeling lightheaded, I got a cup of Ramen noodles and a honeybun from the commissary.
A lot of the people in the county jail were either detoxing from drugs or too focused on trying to get out to care about the next person.
I knew prison would be a completely different ballgame, however.
What really annoyed me was when a woman that was in for trying to smuggle drugs in to her boyfriend that was in prison wanted to act like we were besties.
I didn’t catch a charge for a man, and I wasn’t in that muhfucka to make friends.
All I did was sleep and cry. I didn’t give a damn about crying and appearing weak because I was so frustrated and pissed that I could probably kill a bitch with my bare hands.
I was little, but I had never been pussy.
I couldn’t have visits for the first week.
As soon as I was told I could have visitors, the Feds did in fact pick up the case, and I was transported to federal jail.
When my parents came to visit me, my mother was crying like somebody died.
The visit broke me so bad that I didn’t even want them to come back.
The second visit that broke me was from Darius.
Seeing him sitting there with red eyes like he had been crying made my stomach sink. I had really fucked up.
“What the fuck happened, Vani?” his eyes were so sad that tears filled mine. I had let so many people down including myself.
Darius knew there was only so much I could say because we were separated by glass and talking to one another over phones.
“Just decided to make some quick money,” I mumbled not even able to make eye contact when I said it.
Darius was silent. Probably baffled because he never knew I was so stupid. Money was one thing I didn’t need. I mean, you could never have too much money, but I wasn’t hurting for it to the point of having to do dumb shit for it.
“I know ‘em?” he finally spoke.
My head was down when I nodded. All I could do was stare at the table I was seated at. It felt like I was dreaming and all I wanted was to wake up.
“Vani.”
The way Darius said my name made a chill creep down my spine. It was assertive and held so much meaning. He was disappointed. He was hurt. Maybe he was even apologetic. Lifting my head, I sniffed and peered at him.
“That nigga is gon’ come claim his own shit.
” The way his jaw muscle ticked, the way his nostrils expanded, Darius was pissed.
I could hear the subtle threat in his words, and I simply shook my head.
Him killing Jared wasn’t going to make my problems go away.
I just wanted him to leave the situation alone.
I made the mess. Me. No one else. I was responsible for ruining my own life, and I couldn’t be mad with anyone but myself.
“You gon’ walk down three and a half years?” his eyes darted back and forth across my face.
Crazy thing was, I was always afraid it would be him doing time and me having to live without him. This was a plot twist like a muhfucka. “I don’t have a choice.” The lump that formed in my throat made it difficult for me to swallow.
The mere thought of being in prison for more than three years made my knees buckle.
Even though I didn’t eat enough to make me anywhere near full, I had the sudden urge to regurgitate everything I’d swallowed in the past few hours.
Even with a clean record, it being my first offense, and the possibility of attending a drug rehabilitation program while I was down, the least amount of time the lawyer saw me doing was forty months.
Darius’ eyes closed briefly. “Why the fuck would you do that, Vani? Why?” his orbs bore into me like he really wanted a long, drawn-out explanation.
“Why doesn’t matter, Darius. I made a dumb ass decision, and I have to eat that. No one made me do it. No one. I did it on my own.” I choked over the last word and forced down a sob. I was tired of crying because it wasn’t changing shit.
“Fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
He was so handsome. I looked at the lips I wouldn’t get to kiss and the huge, muscular arms I wouldn’t be wrapped in again, and I began to sob uncontrollably.
I didn’t want to. That was the last place I wanted to break down, but I couldn’t contain it.
When Darius saw me, his jaw muscles flexed as he looked upward trying not to cry himself.
I was over it. I had fucked up so bad, and there wasn’t anything I could do to fix it.
At that moment, I didn’t give a damn about Bree or any other woman, but I realized that jealousy and stupidity had caused me to hand Darius over on a silver platter to whatever woman he chose next.
Because why the fuck would he wait on me for three years?
I placed the receiver in the cradle and stood up.
There wasn’t shit I could do but my time.
Nothing on the outside mattered anymore, so with tears streaming down my face, I turned my back on Darius and waited on the officer to take me back to my cell.