Wicked
A COUPLE DAYS LATER
“Man, you gon’ put me on once you’re out of here?
” Marco asked me. This nigga was getting ready to be released in a few days.
Every day, he’d come by here questioning me about when I made it on the outside.
I fucked with him in here, but I wasn’t about to welcome him into the family out there.
He should know that people do what they gotta do to survive on the inside.
“You already got the answer to that, now get the fuck out my face and let me eat my food in peace.”
Marco’s jaw muscles clenched. He may have been angry, but I wasn’t worried about him doing shit to me. Marco peeled away from my doorway and strolled off. I stuffed my burrito into my mouth and took a bite from it. Someone popped up in my peripheral.
“Thought I told you to get the fuck outta here, Marco. You want this fork in yo’ got damn eye?” I yanked the fork from the table and swung my arm around before realizing it was one of the C.O.s standing there.
“You got a visitor.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Let’s go.”
Putting the fork and burrito down, I got up from my cot and followed him out into the hallway.
I freely roamed ’til we made it to the door.
He turned, cuffed me and then looked up at the camera.
After his head nod, the door buzzed and he pulled it open.
He led me toward a door and turned the knob.
The only time that I came in here was if one of the family was here to see me.
Something must be wrong because I ain’t heard shit from anyone all day.
He opened the door, and I stepped inside to see a woman with her back facing me.
She sat there with her curly black hair that fell to the center of her back.
I could smell her before fully entering the room.
Candy. At least that’s what she smelled like.
As if she’d made a trip to the candy store and took a bath in the ingredients.
Her head whipped in my direction, and her dark eyes caught me in a trance. Her glossy full lips had an orange hue to them. They curved, displaying her perfect pearly whites.
The officer removed the cuffs from my wrists and shut the door behind me. I rounded the table and took a seat in front of her. “Who the fuck are you?” I admired her amber complexion.
“Aww, I thought you would’ve been happy to see me. If you’re gonna be rude, I can just go,” she replied, pointing her thumb over her shoulder.
“CancerGrl?”
“Bingo.” She relaxed back in her seat, giving me the perfect view of her breasts in the tight ass t-shirt she wore. They weren’t too small nor too big. They were the perfect size for me.
“How the fuck you get in here? I gotta put you on the list for visitation.” I noticed she was the second person able to get in here to me without my permission. I was gon’ have to speak to somebody about this shit.
“I have my ways. You were asking about seeing me, so I made it happen.”
My eyes roamed the top half of her frame. Damn, she looks better than I expected.
Out of all the time that we’d been talking, I never knew what she looked like.
For whatever reason, I thought that maybe she was a bit thicker or something.
I’m not sure how many women would spend their time talking to someone and didn’t know what they looked like and wasn’t getting much out of them but a conversation.
“You like what you see?” she asked, bringing me from my thoughts.
“Hell yeah.”
“Good. I’ve been dying to find out what you looked like. You’re not too bad yourself.”
Leaning back in my seat, I folded my arms over my chest. “Not too bad, huh?” The corner of her mouth ticked.
“What you want me to say? You make my pussy wet?”
“Do I?”
“I’m not getting into all that with you. I came here to see you and now that I have, I can leave.” She lifted from the table, and I caught her by the wrist.
“What if I ain’t ready for you to leave just yet?”
Her eyes wandered from my hand up to my face. “What do I get out of sitting here with you?”
“Good conversation, money… hell, whatever the fuck you want.”
“Money?” She chuckled and eased back down into her seat. “You’re locked up.”
“And yo’ fucking point? You must ain’t do yo’ research on me or something.”
“I just used yo’ inmate number to get in here to see you.
I don’t know yo’ real name either Mr. Madness.
” She called me by the name that I’d used on my account from when I was talking to her online.
I chose the name Madness because I didn’t want to use my real name.
Had I done that, my account would’ve been swarming with bitches that had ill intentions. I ain’t want that.
“Castro Saint-Mercier, but everybody calls me Wicked.”
Her eyes expanded like saucers. “As in the Saint-Merciers?”
“Yeah…”
“Wow. This is wild. I gotta go.” She bolted to her feet and knocked on the door.
“Do yo’ research and get back to me, baby girl.” My eyes darted to her small onion booty. The guard opened the door and she stepped out into the hallway. “I ain’t get yo’ name though.”
“Aria. Aria Hollister,” she replied and disappeared down the hallway.