eye.
“So you’ve never stepped out on him?” he asks, eyeing me as if he’s not convinced.
I slowly shake my head. Rationalize in my head, lie in my heart, that what I’m doing isn’t really cheating. That it’s only a means to an end. Just until my baby gets home. I glance over at him. “Nope.” I say, looking him dead in the eyes.
He seems surprised. “Not
I’m kind of surprised myself that he’s sitting here asking me this shit. All the years I’ve known Stax, and all the times I’ve seen him since Jasper’s been locked up, he’s never come out his face to ask me about cheating. But today he is. Hmmm.
“I have no desire to fuck another man,” I tell him, bluntly.
“That’s wassup, ma. Not too many females out here gonna hold their man down behind the wall without having another muhfucka knockin’ their guts around, feel me?”
“Well, you make sure you tell him what I said, and remind him of how lucky he is.”
He grins. “Oh, I got you, ma. Jasp doesn’t even know I’m kickin’ this to you, though.” I roll my eyes up in my head, disbelievingly. He laughs. “Nah, real talk. I was only askin’.”
“Hmmm…why, are you taking a poll or something?”
He keeps laughing. “Nah, not at all. I’m sayin’…I admire you for holdin’ it down. That’s all.”
“Thanks. But don’t think this prison shit has been easy on me,” I confess, quickly glancing over at him. “Doing a bid with a man comes with its challenges, trust me.”
“Oh, I know it’s not easy—for you or anyone else. But, look at you. You holdin’ shit down. And Jasp doesn’t haveta worry about you playin’ him. Hell, my baby mother was shittin’ on me the whole time I was locked up. And I was lucky if I got a visit once a month, if that. I couldn’t really hate on her, though, ’cause when I was on the bricks I was doin’ me, feel me? And she put up wit’ alotta shit.”
I nod, turning into the prison entrance, then driving around until I find a parking space. “I hear you. So, how ya’ll doing anyway?”
“We good,” he says, opening and closing his legs, then pressing his hand down into his lap. I cut my eye over at him, glancing down in his lap, then quickly shift my eyes back on the road in front of me. For a brief second, I could swear I saw a lump forming in his pants. “You know, we have our ups and downs, but it’s all good.”
When I finally find a parking space, I pull in, then shut the engine off, looking over at Stax. “Out of curiosity, why’d you come home to her, knowing what she was doing?”
“On some real shit,” he says, pulling his bottom lip in. “She’s my son’s mother.”
I never really noticed how his brown eyes sparkle when the light hits them until now. Damn. It’s a good thing that: one, I’m not sexually attracted to him; two, I have healthy boundaries and don’t believe in fucking my man’s family or friends; and, three, I promised Jasper I wouldn’t give up any of this pussy while he was locked up. Otherwise I’d probably have dropped down on his dick at least once by now.
I twist my lips, raising my eyebrow. “That’s the only reason?”
“Nah,” he says, pausing. “I had no other place to go.”
“And now?”
“’Cause she’s pregnant again,” he says, opening his door. I open mine as well, but don’t get out of the car until after I check my face and whatnot in the mirror. I put on a fresh coat of lipstick, then pull the key out of the ignition. I remove my ID and money from my wallet, then pop the trunk to put my handbag inside. I get out of the car, then make sure my prison garb—a simple, ankle-length, long-sleeved black dress and a cute pair of four-inch, black Prada heels—is on point. Yes, I’m going to a prison, but I still have to keep it sexy. However, I try not to wear anything that is too revealing or provocative—no cleavage, nothing form-fitting. No open-toed shoes. Or anything that is beige, tan, or orange (because the inmates wear those colors) to keep the CO’s from turning me away, like I’ve seen them do to other chicks. And just in case there’s a hating-ass female officer on duty, I keep a change of clothes in the trunk for backup.
“By the way, congratulations,” I finally say, grabbing my clear plastic purse with my tokens for the vending machines out of the trunk, then shutting it and activating the car alarm.
“For what?”
“For having another baby,” I say, tilting my head.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Wow, you don’t sound too happy about it.”
He stuffs his hands in his front pockets. “I’m not. But, hey, what am I gonna do? She wanted another baby.”
Hmmph, why the hell females wanna keep having babies is beyond me. This’ll be her third child. One with some dude she was fucking with way before Stax, and now two with him. Two damn baby daddies. I catch myself from rolling my eyes up in my head. I shake my head. Poor thing!
SIX
After we sign in, we go through security. Now this is the shit I really hate—the fucking pat-downs! The security here has been tighter over the last several months. Jasper was telling me how there’s been a lot of drugs being smuggled up in here, and how the CO’s have been running down on them with the dogs and whatnot. Still, what this ho is doing doesn’t feel right. Hell, it isn’t right! It feels more like a grab-down the way this mannish, manhandling bitch is grabbing at my goddamn titties! I know the frisks are to make sure no one’s bringing in contraband—like so many dumb-ass bitches do, but this he-man bitch right here is taking it a bit too far if you ask me. It’s almost like the freaky bitch is trying to get her rocks off. I want to scream on her black ass. But I keep my mouth shut ’cause I’m not trying to have her cancel my visit. Like she did a few weeks ago to this chick— who, by the way, takes two buses and a train, then walks from the train station to get here—because she said something slick to her about the way she was grabbing her up. I felt so bad for her.
Anyway, after the frisking, we finally get to the visiting area and find a table facing the door that the inmates come out of so that Jasper can see us as soon as he walks out. I scan the room, looking at all these Bama-fied bitches in their late wears, some of them carrying snotty-nosed babies, dragging loud-ass toddlers, or both. There’s a sprinkle of decent-looking chicks with some cute kids here. And you can tell they have good home training. Then there are the mules, the bitches smuggling in the damn drugs, stuffing them in their pussies, all in the name of love—and in the promise of a life with their men beyond these walls. Promises that’ll be broken the minute the nigga touches down.
The more I look around the room, the more disgusted I feel myself becoming. I am so sick of this shit! Some of these chicks look so comfortable and happy and excited being here. And here I am, sitting here—in my designer wear and bling—feeling so out of place. This whole prison shit is depressing.
“Yo, I’ma hit the bathroom,” Stax says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You want something outta the vending machine while I’m up?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” I watch him walk toward the men’s room, then glance down at my watch. We’ve been here for almost ten minutes already. Five minutes later, the first batch of inmates are coming out. I keep my eye on the door, waiting. Then scan the room, turning my lips up as two female CO’s walk in. Jasper had pointed them out a few months ago, telling me how they were both fucking inmates here. Hmmph. Nasty bitches! How the hell you gonna be fucking on the job? Yeah, I’m doing what I’m doing, but I’m not jeopardizing my damn career and livelihood behind it. I’ve heard over the years how some chicks have gotten caught up in a bunch of bullshit over some jailhouse cock.
Ten minutes later, another batch is coming through the door. Jasper is the fourth one to enter. Even in his prison-issued khakis, he’s still a sexy motherfucker! He quickly scans the room looking for me. I smile, standing up. His face lights up as he smiles back at me. I admire him as he makes his way over to me. His swagger is so damn
