1. Riot St. James #3
The wig had a middle part, which I wasn’t shocked about because I knew that my cousin loved her middle parts.
She was dressed down casually in a white v- neck top that was clinging to her, showing off her small waist, and she paired the top with some jeans that were hugging her down below.
Sandals from Tory & Burch were on her feet, showing off her pretty white toes.
“I was eating. Come on. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here,” I voiced, bending down for a second, so that I could pick up the clear bag.
“How you doing? I’m officer Randall. Keep an eye on her, alright? I already had a talk with her, but I want to tell it to somebody else. I know she’s a grown woman, and you can’t make her do anything, but I don’t want her coming back here. Just watch out for her,” officer Randall said to Ari.
“I appreciate that. It shows that you care. I’ll do my best to keep her out of trouble,” Ari assured him.
He just nodded at that. I turned to look at officer Randall one last time, and he stuck his fist out for me. I pounded it, and then I quickly walked away, really needing to get the fuck away from this jail, mainly for my mental.
“Where Amir? I thought he was going to come with you,” I said, referring to her six-year-old son.
Amir was my lil man. He was bad as hell, giving Ari a run for her money. He was the reason why my cousin didn’t want any more children. She claimed that his little ass was more than enough.
“He is. He fell asleep in the back,” she told me.
Hearing that my little cousin came with her, it forced a smile out of me, and I quickly jogged over to her truck, pulled on the door handle for the back, and I found my little cousin knocked out in his booster seat.
I shook him, and I saw where his eyes popped open, but he didn’t turn his head to look over at me.
“Watch out, bruh. Move!” he snapped, not knowing who he was talking to, but was just talking. I’m telling you, this lil nigga was bad as hell.
“Wake your lil ass up, and give me a hug,” I said to him in a playful way, and the second he heard my voice, he immediately jumped up, raced to get the seatbelt off, and he jumped on me.
Amir loved me like I was his second mama. Before I got locked up, I was living with him, and Ari, so I had a very close relationship with my little cousin. Now that I was released from jail, I was going to be living with them again, so our relationship was only going to get better.
“Beannnnnn. I missed you,” was probably the nicest shit his ass said all day.
I was holding his little body in my arms, as he wrapped his arms around my neck, and his legs around my waist. Out of my peripheral, I could see Ari with her phone out, recording this moment that I was sharing with my little cousin.
I loved on him so much, placing kisses all over his face.
I wasn’t much of a crier. I rarely shed tears because life made me numb to a lot of things, but no lie, standing here, holding onto my little cousin, and seeing how happy he was, it almost made my gangsta ass shed a few tears, but I didn’t.
“What’s up Bug? I missed you too. You so handsome, man,” I revealed, lowering him down to the ground, so that he could stand in front of me, and I could examine him.
Bug was the nickname that I called my little cousin. I gave him that nickname when he was just a baby, and only I called him that. I would be ready to beat somebody’s ass for using my special nickname on him that only I was allowed to use.
“Riot, he just as big as you,” Ari said from the side, trying to be funny.
I laughed, but I kept my eyes on my little cousin, checking him out, seeing how fly he looked. Ari always kept him fly, and that was one of the things that I loved about her.
We were right in the middle of spring, so it was a little cool out this morning.
With that, Amir had on a white Palm Angels sweatshirt with the bold lettering going across the shirt.
He paired it with navy blue Palm Angels track pants, that had white stripes running down the legs of the pants.
A crisp pair of white, and navy-blue Jordan 12’s were hugging his small feet.
Amir had jet black hair. He used to have braids when he was a toddler, but Ari cut his hair for his third birthday, so these days, he would rock a fresh cut, and that’s what he had going on right now.
My little cousin was so handsome, as he stood in front of me, smiling big, just happy to be back in my presence.
“You don’t gotta go back, right?” he asked me. You could hear it in his little voice that it would break his heart if I had to turn myself back in and be away from him for another year.
“Nope. I’m home for good,” I assured him, and he smiled, loving the sound of that.
“You got in any fights while you were locked up?” he asked me. His question made me laugh, but I wasn’t going to tell him all that happened while I was locked up.
Truth is, this jail stay wasn’t easy. I made a few associates while I was locked up, but for the most part, most of those bitches on the inside hated me.
Shit, my first week being in there, I fucked around and got food poisoning because the bitches that were in charge of working the cafeteria put some shit in my food, and it had me down bad for weeks.
I never told my family about that shit either because I didn’t want them to worry about me.
Ari, speaking on my weight wasn’t her jumping the gun.
I was tiny. I’ve always been small, but I came out smaller than I was when I went in because jail made me paranoid, so I was in that bitch starving myself, not eating, fearing that a bitch was trying to take me out.
I have some fucked up stories that I can tell that I’m sure was going to play on my mental now that I was free and change me in a way that probably wasn’t for the best.
“No. I was chilling,” I lied to him.
I was in a couple of fights, I’ve been jumped while I was on the inside, and I dodged death at least twice. I didn’t have to share that though. I wouldn’t dare tell my family that shit.
“Come on, ya’ll. Let’s get in the car. I know Bean ready to get the hell from over here,” Ari said, reading my mind.
I knew that Amir could get in the car on his own, but I still lifted him up, put him inside his booster seat, and I assisted him with putting on his seat belt. Once he was good, I kissed his cheek and closed the door behind me.
I went over to the passenger door, that I pulled open, and I sat down on the red seats.
Her car was squeaky clean, and you could still smell that new car smell in here.
I turned to the back to look at Amir, who was now playing on his iPad, and on the seat next to him, you could see Ari’s Chanel purse.
My cousin worked as a bottle girl at a popular strip club here in Miami.
She was popular because of that. That job had afforded her the nice townhouse that she had, this nice car, and everything else. I was happy for her.
“I know this probably not the first stop you want to make, but auntie Keyshawn told me to bring you to her shop as soon as I get you, so that’s where we about to go.
Look at your head, Bean. You look like a little dyke,” she said, reaching her hand over, so that she could rub it through the braids that I had in.
My cellmate put straight back braids in my hair about a month ago, and this is how I had been rocking it.
If you let me, I would rock my hair like this for the rest of the year and wouldn’t see a problem with it.
I was such a beautiful girl, but there wasn’t shit girly about me.
I moved like a nigga, and it would piss my mama off because my mama was girly as hell, while I was the complete opposite.
I had a lot of sandy brown hair. That came from my father.
I don’t know much about hair, but over the years, I’ve always heard my mom tell me that I had 3A type hair.
My curls were loose and defined. It had a lot of body, and bounce to it.
It was hard for me to keep up with it because I didn’t know shit about doing hair.
While I was locked up, my roommate would keep it braided, so that’s what I had going on right now. About fifteen straight back braids were in my hair, and the braids went down to the middle of my back.
I truly looked like the little dyke that Ari said.
I was already built like a 12-year-old little boy, so me having the nerve to put these braids in my hair wasn’t helping me look like a girl in any circumstance.
I was wearing the gray sweatshirt and sweatpants that the jail provided for me.
I was in the smallest size that they had, and it still was too big for me.
Up under these clothes were titties that were barely an A cup, a flat stomach, small hips, and small ass.
“I may just tell her to cut all this shit off. I don’t be knowing what the fuck to do with my hair,” I said to Ari, as she pulled out of the parking spot.
“Because you don’t try to learn. You want to run around, and act like a nigga. You are such a beautiful girl, Riot. The niggas that you could snag if you would just tap into your feminine side,” she went on to say, and I sucked my teeth, not wanting to hear that shit at all.
I was one bitch that it just wouldn’t be in your best interest to talk to me about a nigga.
I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t gay. I swear I wasn’t into girls at all.
I did look at some men, and find them attractive, but that was as far as it went with me.
I’ve never in my life had a boyfriend. Never even kissed a boy, so from there, you should know that I wasn’t fuckin.
Never even came close to losing my virginity.