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  "Word, word. But you know I'm always ready to put in that work. Just say the word," Jay said eagerly between puffs.

  Jay was a young cat from New York, who had migrated down south a couple of years ago on some music shit. For some reason, he thought it would be easier to make it in the music business here than anywhere else. It wasn't long before he realized he was sadly mistaken and started knocking niggas off. He'd tied up and robbed so many cats that it was in my best interest to put him on my payroll before I ended up becoming a victim.

  "I got one hundred bands for you. Half now, half later."

  "That's what I'm talking about. That's why I fuck with you." Jay nodded his head and passed the blunt to me. He rubbed his hands together and let out an excited whistle. "Who is this nigga? Where he be at? Give me all the specifics."

  While rolling through the hood, I gave all the info I had on Quin. This was another obstacle I had to overcome. Ending Quin's life was the only way to solve the beef between us. It was either catch or be caught.

  3: Jahzara

  “Hey, love! Do you wanna try and eat something today? I made some taco soup for you,” Kira, the nurse, sang into my ear.

  I heard her speaking to me, but, for some reason, my mouth just wouldn’t spit out any words. My mind was totally frozen on the events that had taken place over the last couple of days. My girl Tomeka had been killed right in front of my eyes and by the hands of our so-called best friend Honey. The lifetime of friendship that we had was now over, and, unfortunately, it had ended tragically. I wished there was something that I could’ve done to keep it all from happening. Maybe, if I would’ve followed my gut when it was telling me that something wasn’t right with that note that Honey left on my door, telling me to meet her and Tomeka. Then, maybe, she would still be here. I knew that something wasn’t right, but I showed up instead, hoping that, just maybe, the bitch was really looking to reconcile our friendship. I’d never been so naïve in my entire life. Never had I allowed a bitch to get me off track like that. I’d seen plenty of grimy bitches come and go in my time dealing with my husband, my ex-husband Quin, so I should’ve known that Honey was up to no good.

  Quin... I thought. My husband had come home from jail after four years and some months, stuck a gun in my face, and damn near killed me. I know that my choice to choose another man over him, right in front of his face, had only added fuel to his already burning fire, but what did he expect me to do? He sent me divorce papers in the mail all because of some shit he’d heard. Then, when he got out, he immediately came to me questioning me about his bricks. That instantly got me to thinking that he’d been speaking to somebody that was close to me on the outside. I knew it had to be none other than that bitch Honey. That was the main reason why I ran to be with Imran and not him. Even after hearing that Imran and Quin had old beef and that it was possible that Imran had been playing me this whole time, I still chose Imran. For some reason, the possibility of Imran using me sounded far better than the possibility that my husband was sleeping around with Honey.

  “I really think that you should eat some of this soup. It will definitely help you to get some of your energy back,” the nurse said, while bringing the spoon towards my lips, waiting for me to wrap my mouth around it.

  I have to admit that the shit smelled good and the emptiness in the bottom of my stomach was dying to be filled. I attempted to open my mouth, but the swelling in my lips made me think twice. Kira looked down at me and flashed a slight smile before she poured a little soup between the opening of my lips. I allowed the broth to drip into my mouth and swallowed as much as I could without putting a strain on my muscles.

  “Good, right?”

  “Ye…Yes,” I shakily said with a crack in my voice.

  “Oh, wow! If I had known that my special tortilla soup would get you to speak, I would’ve made it the first day I got here,” she said with that bright smile of hers.

  She was a petite woman who looked to be in her early thirties. She wore a short cut and had a nice set of wide hips. I couldn’t help but wonder how Imran knew such a pretty, educated woman such as her. Kira gave me another spoon of soup and dabbed at my mouth to catch the juice that rolled down the side of my face. After eating half a bowl of tortilla soup, I replenished my body with water.

  “I think, maybe, I should call Imran and let him know that you are a little more active than you were earlier when he was here.”

  “No,“ I reached my hand out to grab Kira before she walked away. “I…I don't want to…see him right now."

  Kira turned to look at me with a solemn look in her eyes. She only nodded her head and took her seat back in the chair next to the bed. She grabbed a hold of my hand and just stared at me. Tears ran down my cheeks, and I brought my hand up to stop them, feeling the welted scars that ran across my face. This only caused me to cry out in pure agony because I knew my shit was fucked up. I could feel the gap in my mouth where my teeth are missing, felt the dents, and bumpy bruises on my face that symbolized fire when you touched them. I wanted to see a mirror just to find out how bad I really looked.

  "I need to…to use the restroom," I said to Kira.

  "You have a catheter placed inside of you. I don't think it's in your best…"

  "I need to see a mirror. I just…just want to see the damage."

  "You don't need to look at your scars. It's only been a few days, and they haven't had time to heal," Kira explained.

  "No, I need to see. I need a mirror."

  Kira gazed at me for a few moments before getting up to leave the room. She returned some minutes later, carrying a small square mirror that was barely bigger than the size of my hand. She placed the mirror in my possession, and, slowly, I brought it up to my face. There was so much swelling that it was damn near impossible for me to even recognize who I was.

  The scars were deep rooted, burned to touch, and just sickening to look at it. I slowly pulled my mouth open and gasped at the space that once held two perfectly good teeth. Agitation welled up in my body and embarrassment set in while a stream of tears rolled down my cheeks, disturbing my open flesh. Kira sat on the side of me and rubbed her hand down my back.

  "It's okay. Wounds heal. They're not permanent. Give it time, okay? And the dentist said that he could have your smile back to normal in no time," Kira said softly into my ear.

  I placed my head against her chest and cried silently. Cried for my pain and the pain that I would forever feel for Tomeka.

  "Can I use the phone? I need to check in with my parents. They need to know that I'm okay."

  She reached next to her and pulled out a cell phone from her purse. Once she handed it to me, I quickly dialed my parent’s home and waited for someone to answer. Just when I was about to hang up, I heard my mother's weary voice over the line.

  "Hello."

  "Mama…it's me. Jah…"

  "Jahzara? Oh, my, God! Honey, I've been so worried. James! Baby, it's Jahzara. She's alive," my mother communicated to my father.

  "Mama, I'm okay. I just wanted to call and let you guys know that I'm fine."

  "You don't sound fine, Jahzara. What's going on with you and Quin? He’s waving guns in your face, disrespecting me and your daddy like that. Jahzara, I told you…"

  "Mama, I gotta go okay."

  "Jahzara, wait! Some detective man called here asking for you. They said they had some questions for you concerning Honey. She's in jail or being held for questioning for a murder. Jahzara, what do you have to do with a murder?"

  My heart pounded against my chest upon hearing that the police wanted to talk to me. They have Honey, and she’s in jail, I thought as a feeling of relief washed over me but scared me at the same time.

  Why the fuck are they asking for me? I wondered. What the hell is Honey up to now?

  "Mama, did they leave a number?" I asked, not sure if I really wanted it. I didn’t want to get involved in the murder of Tomeka.

  I called out a number for Kira to write down. Then, I tol
d her to tell my mom that I would visit her and my dad soon. After ending the call, I contemplated whether or not I should call the detectives. I mean, what did they want with me? They have the person that they need. What more can I do for them?

  4: Honey

  A couple of days later

  Taking a long puff off of the Marlboro, I blew out a cloud of smoke and looked around the dingy cell. I'd just been transferred from Tyler back up to Dallas, where I would be arraigned the next day. They are charging me with the murder of Jane Doe. They called her Jane Doe because I refused to tell them who Tomeka was. I refused to tell them anything actually. I hadn't opened my mouth up to one person since I was cuffed and thrown in the back of the squad car. They were gonna have to put that work in if they wanted to convict me on anything.

  "Honey Mendez!"

  I looked up to see a guard unlocking the cell doors. After stepping forward, I was escorted to the outside of the cell where the guard grabbed me by my arm and pulled me down the long hall, never saying a word to me. I assumed that, because I was on the other side of that cage, I was about to go home. Why else would they let me out of that hell hole, if it wasn't time for my arraignment?

  "Third seat to your right. You have fifteen minutes," the guard said, pushing me forward and then turning to walk away.

  I entered into the visitation room and made my way down to the third seat, just as the guard said. Looking through the thick glass, I frowned at the person sitting on the other side. Her head was down, but I knew from looking at her freshly manicured nails that it was her. All the damage I had done to her and her damn nails were still on point. I started to turn around and let the guard know that I was finished with my visit but decided that I would hear just what she wanted.

  I took a seat in front of her and grabbed the raggedy-ass phone that sat on the side of the wall. She finally brought her attention up to me, and I couldn’t help but smirk at her. She was so fucked up. The once flawless skin tone she had carried was no more. I was certain that one or more of those scars was guaranteed to leave some permanent marks. It served her ass well for betraying me.

  "¿Qué pasa, mami? What's up?" I asked when she finally put the phone to her ear.

  "Nice to see you have a smile on your face," she uttered with her hand covering her mouth.

  "Hiding those pretty teeth, are we?" I chuckled. I knew her shit was missing and couldn't help but rub it in.

  "Why, Honey? What the hell happened to us?"

  "Sorry. You're gonna have to remove your hand. I can't understand you," I smirked.

  Jahzara removes her hand from her mouth before she spoke again, "Why did you do all of this? What brought us to this point?"

  "Oh! You gonna act like you don't know? This has been brewing since we were younger. The fact that you always thought you were better than the rest of us. Your parents were holier than thou and took you away from the hood and that just made you even worse. I used to hate whenever you came to visit because you always reminded us of how bad we had it."

  "Honey, what are you talking about? I never threw that shit in y'all’s face. I hated living in the fuckin' suburbs because I was away from you and Tomeka. I never once felt I was better than you!"

  "Yeah, right! Always coming through rocking the finest threads that church money could buy. Always bragging about how you had the better boyfriend. You were just so phony with Tomeka and me. Then, you came back to the hood with your husband and acted like you were a queen on a throne. Bitch, please! Too bad you didn't know I was fucking your king the whole time he was free."

  The way Jahzara looked at me told me that she wasn't at all shocked by my admission. It was like she already knew that Quin had had a taste of me.

  "You should've told your new boy toy to play along like the rest, and none of this would have ever happened."

  "So, because Imran wouldn't sleep with you, you killed Tomeka and damn near killed me?"

  "I didn't kill Tomeka. You did. And, no, not because he wouldn't sleep with me but because he had the nerve to deny me when my own daddy wouldn't deny me."

  Jahzara shook her head with pity and allowed a single tear to drop from her eye. I held my emotions back. This bitch didn't deserve to see my pain. She had seen my struggle, and it did nothing but make her feel like she was the baddest bitch.

  "You're sick, Honey. You need help. I know that you wouldn't have killed Tomeka if…"

  "Bitch, fuck you! I'm not sick! You killed Tomeka, and everyone will fucking know it! You killed her! Fucking puta!"

  "I didn't do shit to her! You killed her! You did this to us! You crazy fuck!" Jahzara screamed.

  She slammed the phone down and got up from her seat. Hearing her call me crazy and placing the blame for Tomeka’s death on me sent me into a rage. She knew that all of this had happened because she was an uptight bitch that thought she ruled the fuckin' universe. She had always thought she was better because her father was a pastor of a big-time church. The bitch lived in the hood because she wanted to and sold drugs because she got a joy out of it. She danced at a strip club because it was fun for her. Jahzara had shit made and had made a fuckin' mockery of my and Tomeka's lives.

  "Take your ass back to fuckin' Plano, bitch, with your rich-ass parents! Fuck you with your uppity ass! I wish you were dead bitch, so I could spit on your grave!" I gawked up a glob of spit, shot it at Jahzara, and then took the phone and tossed it into the thick glass hoping that somehow it would shatter and hit her.

  Before I knew it, I was grabbed by a couple of guards and pulled up from the chair. They lifted me off of the ground where my feet were left dangling in the air. I began to scream every threat I could think of at Jahzara, hoping that she could hear me. I hated that bitch. If she thought I had made her life hell before, she hadn’t seen anything yet.

  5 Quin

  Freedom didn’t taste as sweet as I had imagined it would. After spending a little more than four years behind bars, I dreamed of the day I would be released from the confinement of the government. So many different scenarios had played in my head, but not once did I ever think that I would come home and my wife would be running in to the arms of one of my biggest enemies. I had thought about taking a nice long vacation with Jahzara since we never got the chance to go on a honeymoon, but that thought was shattered along with the rest. Hearing about her betrayal was bad, but seeing it with my own eyes had been the worst.

  I had sent the divorce papers in the mail, hoping that she would reject them, come and see me, and tell me that the shit I’d heard was false. I wanted her to confirm that she hadn’t been prostituting and sleeping with any nigga that had an unlimited amount of bands. I wanted her to relieve my mind, help me to think about anything other than another nigga lying up with her, lying between her legs, lying in my fucking bed, in my fucking house. That was not some shit a dude that was on lockdown liked to have invade his everyday thoughts. It was hard enough getting through a bid with limited contact with your loved ones but, then, to find out that the one person you counted on to be there for you was there for somebody else…

  I'm tired of livin' fucked up, tired of livin' bad

  Tired of hearing grandma tellin' me

  When you gonna go to church Chad

  Now I'm tryin' to live up to the image

  That she would want me to be

  But I got one foot in the street

  And every week I flip a key

  I never wanted to be a G

  But niggas depend on me

  “Aye, tell him, Pimp. They don’t understand,” I sighed.

  I turned the volume down on the stereo and grabbed the stack of divorce papers from the passenger side seat. I had stared at these papers every day, mainly the signature that read Jahzara Simmons. She had agreed to the terms that are stated in each paragraph. She had agreed to grant me a divorce without putting up so much as a fight. She had agreed that the marriage was irreconcilable and that she would rather be with that nigga Imran.

  I tosse
d the packet to the side and took in a deep, sharp, breath before firing up a Black & Mild that sat in the ashtray in the center of my ride. Just as I was about to crank up and head back home, Jahzara pulled into the driveway of her parent’s home. I had been camping out here for a few days now, hoping that I would eventually run into her again. There are some things that we needed to discuss, mainly the reasons she betrayed me and the way that she did, but I, also, wanted to know why she didn’t challenge the divorce. Why it was so easy for her to give up and let me go?

  “Jahzara!” I yelled outside of the window.

  She seemed a little alarmed. She reached inside of her purse as if to pull something out of it. I held both hands in the air to show her that I didn’t have a pistol on me and just wanted to talk to her. She looked around before walking in my direction where she stood a few feet away from my car.

  “What’s up? Can we talk?”