Payback Is A Mutha. Wahida Clark
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want you to ask me my name.”
He flashed them pearly whites again, and stood up. “I’ll get at you before the night is out.”
“Damn, he looks paid.” Shan whispered teasingly in Brianna’s ear as they watched him walk away. “Who was that? You just met him?” she said as she sat down. “Do you already know him? Damn, you move fast.”
“His name is Skye and I plan on getting to know him before we leave up out of here.” She put his card in her purse. “So you’re through getting your dance on?”
“For now, yeah.” Shan was fanning herself and looking around for a waitress. “I’m thirsty as hell! Oh shit, this is my song!” She snapped her fingers and began chair dancing while singing along with Khia. “All you ladies pop that thang like this/shake your body don’t stop don’t quit/just do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.” She abruptly stopped and began frowning.
“What’s the matter with you?”
Brianna turned towards the door to see what or who had Shan’s thong crawling up the crack of her ass. Who she saw was a nigga who she wanted to see but at the same time didn’t want to see if that was who her girl was sweatin’. It was Briggen. One of the biggest ballers in Memphis. Foine. Six foot two, clean shaven and cut up. Nigga looking good as Tyson Beckford. He was dressed in all black and he was busy meetin’ and greetin’. His demeanor reminded her of the character Nino Brown in New Jack City. A little more polished but very cocky. Hook had promised to introduce her to him but he never did. Shan snapped her out of her thoughts.
“I’m ready to go,” she snapped.
“What’s up?” B asked while deep down she was filled with envy and hoping that Briggen wasn’t the one who took Shan to Las Vegas.
“There goes that nigga Calvin I was telling you about.”
“Damn, Shan, you should know who you’re opening your legs for!” She shook her head back and forth in disgust. “You call him Calvin. Who the fuck is Calvin? That’s Briggen. He’s one of the biggest dope dealers in Memphis. He also owns Sharia’s Beauty Salon in the South Memphis, that auto shop you went to, a daycare center and nine times out of ten the way he stepped up in this place, he owns this club. For real, for real, if you play your hand right you got it made in tha shade; why you playin’! The only downside is he has at least three or four steady bitches who he fucks with.”
Shan rolled her eyes at Brianna, not wanting to believe what she just heard, and sank deeper into her chair.
“Ain’t this some shit!” she mumbled.
“Yeah, I must say so myself.” Brianna said, not able to conceal her jealousy. “So what’s your next move?” She was watching everybody who was somebody trying to holla at Briggen as he got closer to their table.
“I want to get the fuck outta here. My night is shot. I feel like I’m about to throw up.” She stood up. “Let’s bounce.” When she went to turn around she ran right into a hard chest and some Armani cologne.
“I thought that was you.”
“Do I know you? “She looked at him as if she was confused. “Oh! Your name is Calvin; or is it Briggen?”
3
FOREVER
“Thompson! Let’s go! You’re out of here!” The CO yelled as he kicked the bars.
Forever pulled the covers from over his head. He was just dreaming that he had Beyoncé’s legs thrown over his shoulders and he was knee deep in that pussy.
“What’d you say? Who did you call?”
“You, Thompson! Let’s go! You want out the hole or what? I always did think that you liked it over here,” the short muscled CO yelled.
“I don’t like your big mouth.”
“What was that?”
“You heard me man.” Forever stood his six foot frame up and stretched. If the rapper Method Man was to look at Forever he would be looking at himself. Even their raspy voices resembled. The only difference was the light brown eyes that Forever owned. “Damn,” he muttered. “I was just getting ready to bust a nut inside Beyoncé.” He stretched again, trying to make himself become fully awake. He had another night of uninterrupted sleep, being that his neighbor was dragged out two nights ago in a strait jacket. Every night he would scream, holler, and cuss at the imaginary children in his cell. So Forever was blessed with a few days and nights of peace and quiet all to himself. Seg will fuck with a nigga’s mind. The only thing Forever liked was he had the cell all to himself. Being by yourself in a cell is a big blessing. The other advantages were you didn’t have to work and your meals were brought to you. But from there, it was all downhill. Locked down twenty-three hours a day, one phone call a month, a shower every other day and your mail constantly fucked with. The only thing to do was read, sleep, write letters, and do push-ups and sit-ups. And in Forever’s case, no visits. After he pissed off his hard-on he washed his face, brushed his teeth, and threw on his prison gear. He had been in the hole, or seg, for eight months.
The prison officials finally decided to end their eight-month-long investigation on him. An inmate overdosed on some heroin and Forever was the suspect only because the dead person was his cellmate and Forever was the number one suspect of getting drugs smuggled into the prison. However, they were never able to prove it. Surprisingly, no one was brave enough to come forward and rat him out.
He packed up all of his belongings and was now ready to go back to General Population. He missed not being able to get his hustle on. So, hell yeah, he was looking forward to going back into GP.
As soon as the officer opened the door, Forever picked up the plastic bag with his belongings and headed to the civilization that he knew eight months ago. As he walked through the halls many peeps were hollering at him. When he reached his unit his right-hand man and cousin, Zeke, was mopping the floor. Zeke looked like the stereotypical prison convict. He had dark skin, a bald head, was five foot eleven, two hundred sixty pounds, with plenty of tattoos hugging his overly muscled frame. He had a thin scar running from the back of his ear down to his shoulder blade. The flip side is he looked good and had a charming personality that goes over well with the ladies.
“What up nigga?” Forever yelled.
Zeke looked up at his boy and grinned. “It’s about time your punk ass came off of vacation.”
“Man, I wish I was on a vacation.” They gave each other dap and then embraced. “I’m glad as fuck to get outta there. Let me throw this bag in my house and jump on this phone. I gotta call Nyla. I haven’t got any mail from her in over a week.”
“Then what?”
“Then what? I’ma shit, shower, and shave. After that I’ll get with you. I know you’re ready to bring me up to speed on things but foreal, foreal, I’m in no hurry.” He smiled. “I got that feeling that I won’t like what I’m gonna hear.”
“You’re right about that. I’ll be out in the yard.” Zeke went back to mopping the hallway.
The first time Forever tried to reach Nyla, his wife and daughter’s mother, he didn’t get an answer. So he decided to go ahead and shower and shave. As soon as he did that he was called to get his property and to see his counselor for work placement. After he argued to no avail about losing his old job of cleaning the visiting hall he was assigned to a different orderly job for the new computer teacher. He would be cleaning her office, the computer classroom and hallway. After that he headed outside to the weight pile and was anxious to breathe some fresh air. As soon as he stepped foot outside he stopped, inhaled, looked up to the sky and welcomed the sun beaming down on his face. “Yeah!” he yelled out.
“What up Forever!” Jay yelled, disturbing Forever’s moment. Forever’s eyes scanned the yard, taking in the typical prison yard scene. Blacks in one area. Whites in another. Latinos