Prologue:

The mysterious fire, which burned down the mansion belonging to Tommy Gibbs, claimed five lives that night. However, there were thirty-nine bodies found around the property. When the police arrived there was not one living soul around; meaning no witnesses and no suspects. There was nothing at all to go on.

It took three months to identify all the bodies around the property and notify the families. The bodies found in the rubble that was Tommy’s mansion were not identified, yet the law was sure one body belonged to Tommy himself leaving four bodies unidentified and in different stages of cremation.

After six months, the case went cold, the media had many theories, and stories went from front page headlines to the backs of the local section. The last heard was the county taking over the property since Tommy had no will or next of kin. Though he was a known drug lord and the place was obviously bought with dirty money. However, there was no proof of that other than word of mouth, and that was still iffy.

The auction was advertised in the same local section, and the property in the Oakland Hills on the hill went up for sale. The auction was held at the Oakland Police Department. The opening bid for the prime real estate was one million dollars, over four million lower than the appraised cost. The first bid came in at one point five million, the second two million and then an astonishing ten million. Shocked by the outrageous bid by panel number ninety-three no one had time to think about going higher of if it was worth it.

Once everything was auctioned, and it was time to claim their merchandise and set up payment for the items sold number ninety-three was nowhere to be found. His wooded paddle was found in an empty seat. Number ninety-three was registered as I.D.T. So.

With ninety-three, M.I.A., the property was offered to the next highest bidder after he inquired about the property and haggled. At the end of the auction, the property on the hill was bought for $2.5 million by an African American businessman moving to Oakland to start a California branch of his successful consultation firm.

The property was paid for by way of wire transfer from a bank in the Grand Caymans by Simply Perfect In Nature Ltd.

The house was placed in the name of the CEO whose name would appear on nothing else. With title in hand, Spin stepped through the opened gates looking around at the land in front of him.

He saw no reason to change the location of the empire, which had been in T-money’s control for more than a decade. Spin wanted the transition to be easy, to be smooth. After all, he’d be making a lot of changes to the game.

With T-money and his right and left hands dead along with the heads of the bay who he had taken out as they left the dinner there was no one to rise up and oppose him. He had no competition since it happened so fast and without a word.

Spin planned to build his empire on top of the existing one.

He looked down at the large shoebox under his arm and smiled, “It’s all thanks to you my nigga.”

He could already imagine how his house would look.

No, not house, his palace; a palace fit for a king.

With a smile, he looked up at where his palace would sit.

He’d be the king of the bay. Spin felt it was what he was born for.

Now he was rich, a little skinny kid from East Oakland, Who’d a thought?

Spin took a deep breath and looked back down at the box.

“I owe it all to you my nigga. You were my steppingstone, and I know the perfect place to honor you…"

Part 1: Up in flames…

Chapter 1

No, a bitch was not liked, and I didn’t give a fuck.

Being the only female drug dealer at a table of men I had strange questions aimed at me like, why I was hustlin’? Shouldn’t yo’ man be here? What did I know about the game?

Some of the questions and side comments were said so subtly that you had to think before you knew they were there. Several times while eating I got heated when I finally realized what one said.

When dinner was over, I was so happy. I expected to go home, but no, T-money wanted me to stay and join him and numbers two, three, and four in his office for a little pow-wow they always had. I could tell no one was happy about that.

T-money told them that I was invited because I was training. But they didn’t give a damn; they did not like me.

“Go ahead, let me have a word with Shi,” T-money told Easy 2, Blue 3, and Brain 4. They proceeded into the office as T-money said, “Go and start. You’re welcome to drinks and cigars.” Then he turned to me, and I thought maybe he was going to fire me. “Do you think they like you?” he asked with a smile.

I shrugged then shook my head and said, “Naw, they don’t like me at all.”

T-money nodded and said, “Why do you think they don’t like you?”

I hadn’t thought he noticed the way they were treating me and now that he did, I didn’t want any special treatment. That’d make them niggas really hate me.

“Probably because I’m a girl,” I said knowing that was the reason.

“How does them not liking you make you feel?”

Wow, I really hadn’t thought about that. I was uncomfortable and nervous, and it kinda pissed me off. Them niggas didn’t even know me.

“Uncomfortable, and pissed because they don’t know me.”

“Good,” T-money smiled.

I looked at him sideways, What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“Do you want them to like you?”

I nodded, like duh.

“Well don’t!”

I was feeling a little confused; I was totally lost. I know you probably starting to think a bitch special-ed or something since I seem to always be lost and confused. But damn it, I was sheltered.

“Lesson one, Shi: they may have issues with you being a female but that would be played out with sexual harassment. They don’t like you because now they have to share a cut of their profits with you. It’s all about money, Shi. That’s lesson one.”

Well, hell, when he put it that way it made all the sense in the world. I’d be pissed, too.

“Lesson two: you should not give a damn if they like you or not. It’s good you’re not liked. You keep your enemies close, Shi, but your friends you keep even closer. That is what I’m going to stress the most and is the most important thing I can teach you, baby girl.”

I nodded though I didn’t understand why you’d keep yo’ friends closer than yo’ enemies. I kept quiet, knowing I’d have to have him clarify that for me another time.

“So it’s okay for them not to like you, don’t try to be liked, don’t try and get to know them or get close to them. Keep them at a distance alright, but don’t you ever let them disrespect you. Command respect, be hated. Half these niggas, hell, they all don’t like me, but they respect me and fear me but mostly respect. I keep emphasizing respect over fear because fear is a dangerous thing especially fear and cowardice, but we’ll get to that another time. Right now, it’s about respect.

“You see they don’t even like one another. But they respect each other, nothing personal, it’s all about money, Shi.”

I guess he was addressing all my concerns and putting me up on game. I had no idea how I was supposed to do what he was telling me. How did I make people respect me especially if they didn’t like me?

“How do I-”

“Money, Shi,” he said cutting me off. “Do you; make yo’ money; pull yo’ weight. Show them niggas why you here.”

I nodded, hoping he’d explain more.

“Lastly, you should always feel pissed and uncomfortable. You’re in danger if you don’t feel that tension. I want it so you’ll draw down if someone moves too quickly. You won’t feel that way if you’re comfortable, or friends with these niggas. I ain’t saying don’t convers, just remember it’s all about money. It’s just business. Don’t get buddy-buddy because one of them niggas will put one in yo’ ass if asked without hesitation or regret.”

I nodded thoroughly scared.

“Don’t! I repeat don’t! Get! Comfortable Shi.”

I nodded again. This man was scaring the shit out of me. I had no idea what I was getting into.

“Okay,” he said smiling. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 2

It was widely known that T-money killed Johnny Boy, his best friend who was under federal investigation. It was also widely known that J.B.’s family was supposed to die.

Not even a handful of people knew why they survived.

And those two that knew T-money kept closer than anyone.

Chapter 3

I was sitting silently trying to act like I was invisible. Sure, T-money told me tension was good, but I so did not like the feel.

He had me so spooked that my heart was pounding, and I was barely breathing. My gun was behind my back, and I wanted it closer. I put it back there because the weight of it was getting to me. Not the physical weight but the mental weight. I put it back there because I could sort of forget it. But not now.

I was going to ask to use the bathroom to move it, but potty breaks were so childish.

T-money was asking about the progress on finding someone named Spencer. They’d been on the subject for a while, and I’d yet to know what Spencer did and why they were looking for him. It seemed that they were avoiding that particular part. What I did know though was that T-money was not happy with him.

“I need another drink,” T-money said getting up. “Shi, you sure you don’t want anything? I got sodas at the bar.”

I was gonna say no again, but I’d been looking for a reason to get away to reposition my gun. The bar was behind the double doors in the right corner of the room.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll get it. What you drinking?”

T-money smiled, “Gin.”

I nodded reaching for the cup. He passed it across the desk.

“Add a little juice for me will you?”

I nodded walking to the bar as they began a discussion on expanding.

The bar was nice. I walked around it looking for gin. I saw the Seagram’s and then began looking for juice. He had several juices in the mini fridge. I was going to yell what kind but I should know that. I looked at the orange juice and I started thinking about the song ‘Gin and Juice’ and my discussion with King.

“Oj,” he said that’s what they were talking about.

I grabbed a water for me, and the orange juice for T-money’s gin not knowing how much to put in. I was pouring the juice when there was loud crack.

I jumped and dropped the juice. My heart was pounding.

I looked up and saw T-money and the other three men jump up. I heard a gunshot and froze. No one appeared hurt just confused.

Four guys soon rushed into the office guns pointed at T-money and his crew. T-money and his crew were quickly surrounded by ten dudes in all black.

“What the fuck?” T-money yelled.

“Shut up!” I heard one of them say.

The guys searched them and took their weapons. It was so unreal I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. All I could do was watch as a little pee trickled down my leg.

Yeah nigga I peed on myself.

I heard clapping and then I saw the back of someone’s head.

“You been looking for me?” the man said. T-money was silent. “Well here I am.”

What was I supposed to do?

“Let’s go talk Spencer,” T-money said and I began to realize who the man was.

“We can talk here, sit down,” Spencer said.

I looked at T-money and realized they couldn’t see me. I could tell Spencer was the leader. I had no idea if I’d make it out alive or if they’d find me. I didn’t know why I was so scared when I had a gun too. And though I never shot anyone, I knew how to use it.

I thought about my training, about B.I.T.C.H. and…

I have no idea what possessed me. I grabbed my gun and took a deep breath.

“I caught you slippin’,” Spencer said, and that was my cue.

I swallowed and made my move. I was behind him and unnoticed. I placed my gun into the back of his fade and said, “Naw nigga, we caught you slippin’.”

All eyes went towards Spencer. I was shorter than him but could be seen.

“Put yo’ guns down,” I said.

I was aware that my voice sounded small and insignificant. I was trying to act hard though I was terrified. The adrenaline was kicking in, and a bitch was slowly getting pumped.

“You ain’t gonna get out of here alive,” Spencer said calmly.

“Neither will you,” I said realizing he was right.

I was beginning to regret what I was doing. T-money had a horrified look on his face.

“Don’t put that gun down,” Spencer said.

“Oh, I won’t,” I said being smart.

Then this nigga acted like a bitch wasn’t there, like they wasn’t worried about me.

“Your problems with me let them go.”

Spencer laughed, “So they can come after me?”

“So you think you can do this, Spencer. You think you can be me?”

“No, I can be better T-mo... See cuz you soft, you been soft for a long time. I’m surprised no one did this before. I would of did it when you didn’t kill Jonny and his family.”

My heart stopped. My dad’s name is John. He died of a stroke… but then I remembered Free and what he was supposed to tell me.

‘…drugs killed yo’ father and almost got you, yo’ sister and me,’ I remembered my mom saying.

“You killed Johnny, but not his family, you’re soft. Why’d you let them live?” Spencer asked.

It shocked me. I had a strong feeling I was part of the family that lived. But it could not be true, no not T-money.

“But I finished what you started and now I’m here to take over,” Spencer said.

I had to get a closer look at T-money.

He killed my father?

I stepped to the side and all of a sudden, my face caught fire.

‘Never get distracted,’ Brittany had told me.

Spencer moved fast after he backhanded me. He caught me before I fell twisting the gun out of my hand at the same time.

Fuck, I’d got hit, and now I was gonna die.

“I told you ‘don’t put your gun down,’” he said pushing me to the ground. “This is nice. Stay there,” he told me examining my gun.

T-money was staring at me with concern written all over his face, but he didn’t move.

“So J.B.’s son is dead?”

“Gone,” Spencer, said smiling.

I heard what he said but was having trouble comprehending.

“‘ight one last question…”

“Anything old man.”

“Who’s been giving you information?”

Spencer smiled and I was taking it all in dazed, lost and confused. Spencer was an attractive looking guy, I mean I had to notice even though I was about to die.

“I don’t know, but if he’s in here he better stand up or else he’s getting it with the rest of you.”

I was looking around, and so was T-money and numbers two, three and four.

Then number two, Easy, smiled and said, “I knew you could do it, Spin”

T-money’s eyes got big. “My own brother,” he sounded hurt and angry all at the same time.

“Sorry J-” the rest didn’t get a chance to come out.

T-money moved quickly. He had a gun and shot Easy. Then Spencer shot T-money, and he went down. I was screaming and didn’t notice it. I started hyperventilating as shots rang out sending my heart into space. It was all too confusing. I didn’t know who shot who or who was alive or who was dead.

My ears were pounding. Throbbing from the sounds of the guns. There was a sudden silence, and I wondered if I was deaf. I looked around.

The Mexican who had T-money at gunpoint said, “He’s gone.”

“He’s still alive,” I heard someone say.

I saw Easy holding his chest. He was talking slow, wheezing and breathing heavily. It seemed difficult for him to talk. Spencer went up to him.

“We did it, Spin. Help me, we need to get out of here… it’s all ours.”

Spencer smiled and then shot him in the head. “It’s all mine,” Spencer said, turned and then walked away.

I hoped they forgot all about me, but then a fat guy asked, “What we do with her?”

I saw the evil, cold look in Spencer’s brown eyes.

He looked at me and shrugged, “Hell if I care. Have fun boys.”

And he was gone.

My heart was pounding as the Mexican came over. “My name is D-loc. We ‘bout to have some fun.”

His smile would haunt me forever.

Chapter 4

West Park Apartments, East Palo Alto. It was the winter of ’88.

T-money did not waste time or hesitate. He walked up to the second floor and found the apartment at the end of the hall. Cracking his neck, he checked his gun and then sent all his rage into his foot as he kicked above the doorknob.

The door cracked and flew open with ease. The momentum brought it back at him. He pushed passed it and walked in. It was passed midnight, so he had the element of surprise.

They all should have been sleeping, and he knew the door no doubt would wake them, so he moved fast.

He walked through the small front room to the hall. The place was nice, low budget but nice. There were baby things and toys all around, but the place was clean. He walked to the hall as a door opened. There in the door way stood J.B. J.B.’s eyes widened and T-money hit him with the pistol sending him flying back.

There was a scream from the room; he knew it was Lee before he saw her. Once in the room pointing the gun down at J.B. J.B. was silent as he looked up at him.

T-money smiled, “Lee, please stop screaming. I know you’re not that excited to see me.”

She stopped and was breathing deep and fast. There was a baby’s crib to the right.

“Is that my daughter?” T-money asked backing over to the crib.

Lee was up running to the crib. T-money pistol-whipped her. T-money put the gun back on J.B. He could tell he wanted to do something, but was biding his time. J.B. was a thinker; T-money knew he was waiting for an opportunity.

T-money looked down at the sleeping girl and smiled.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he mumbled not affected by the innocent look on the sleeping baby’s cute face. “Where’s my son?”

He looked around the room and saw the sleeping boy in the bed.

“They’re so beautiful,” he said. Reaching down and slapping Lee he said, “They look just like me, Lee.”

T-money was hurt, he wanted to know why. That was the only reason they were still alive. His best friend and his girl, his love. He loved Lee.

“Tommy,” Lee cried.

“Why?” he asked looking at her. “You will all die, but I want to know… why?”

T-money was going to kill them, he’d already spread word he was looking for them. He’d do it so when the bodies were found everyone would know, and no one would fuck with T-money. They were examples.

“Tommy.”

“I loved you, Lee,” he said calmly, and it was true. And serious.

T-money loved no one, not even his junky mother. Lee was the first, and it hurt. He looked at J.B. all the while pointing the gun at him.

“You were my boy,” he took a step towards J.B. passing Lee. “I don’t owe you shit. But me killin’ yo’ ass is my favor to you… the feds are coming for you, Jay.”

T-money was smiling getting closer and closer to J.B. He bent over him and put the gun to his head. J.B. closed his eyes breathing easily seemingly accepting his fate as T-money cocked the hammer.

“No!” he heard, and it scared him.

He pulled the trigger not meaning to as Lee jumped on his back knocking him over. They rolled over J.B.’s body. T-money struggled with her, he was trying to get her off his back. He finally managed to buck her off and hurriedly got on top of her pinning her down.

He punched her in the mouth.

T-money saw the blood, and he felt better. He hit her again, and his chest began to loosen and he began breathing easily.

Lee’s screams only made it all the better. Lee’s screams woke the boy in the bed. He looked up and began crying which in turn prompted the baby girl to wake and begin wailing.

T-money grabbed Lee’s face and steadied it for his next punch. He smiled as he looked into her frightened light brown eyes and cocked his fist back.

He heard a mechanical cranking sound and then a click in his ear. He whipped his head around. T-money’s mouth went dry, and his heart stalled as he stared at J.B. pointing his gun straight at his head.

T-money opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. J.B. shook his head and pulled the trigger, sending the bullet meant for one of his children into his old friend’s head.

Chapter 5

“Shi… Shi…”

I was dead. I had to be because I was with Free. He was smiling at me. We were playing on the sit and spin at Golden Gate Park.

I saw my grandma and my momma. She had Poppa in her arms and was sitting next to a man. My father?

“Shi…”

It was him talking, calling me. As I spun, I got glimpses of his face. Strangely, he looked exactly like T-money.

“Shi…”

I opened my eyes into a world of pain. I was on my back staring up into the face of the man who played my father in my dream. T-money’s face was covered in blood.

The fog began to clear as I realized I was lying in the middle of the floor in T-money’s office staring up at a ghost.

He was supposed to be dead. I looked at him realizing what had just happened to me and that he killed my father. I was lying in his office bloodied and beat. I guessed I’d lost a lot of blood because my heart refused to beat as fast as it should.

They’d raped me, and I knew it, but the physical pain kept the mental sting of what happened away.

“Shi,” he was breathing hard. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “You need to go… get up… get out of… here”

I slowly lifted myself up as he lay on his side and then rolled onto his back. His face was bloody; he’d been shot in the head. I would have tried to help him, but the man deserved to die. I wanted to ask him questions, but I didn’t, I couldn’t. I looked around at the three bodies and pulled myself to my feet. I thought I’d known pain.

Naw, this was pain.

My legs were screaming, and between my legs were on fire.

I looked down and pulled my pants up. There was dried blood all over my legs and pants. My panties were ripped. I made it to the door and turned around leaning on the door frame.

T-money was crawling to the window. He pulled something out of his pocket. It flicked and then lit. He held the lighter to the curtains, and it slowly caught.

The curtains began to go up in flames fast. He lay faced down as if all his strength was gone, and I knew it was; he was dead.

I had to leave.

My legs were weak, so I crawled to the front door, not in fear of the fact that the place was on fire. I stood up and stumbled away from the house mind racing. I made it to my car.

How?

I don’t know, but I did.

I sat there breathing not paying attention to the pain or noticing the tears running down my face.

My cell phone startled me sometime later. Time was slipping, I felt weak. I was in so much pain. I found my phone in the armrest and pressed talk. I was ready to scream help to whoever was calling me, but the voice which came through was screaming and crying.

“Vicky?” I was becoming delirious.

“I killed him, Shi, he’s dead!”

“Vicky?”

I was not hearing right. Vicky killing? Who? No, why? What for? It wasn’t possible. Vicky couldn’t kill anyone.

“I killed him,” she yelled.

“Who?” I screamed from frustration. I felt my eyes sag; I was ready to go to sleep. T-money’s house was on fire, smoke rising in the dark night.

“I killed him,” Vicky cried.

I was crying, too.

“Who, Vicky? Who?”

I was in so much pain, but it all went out the window when she said, “My dad.”

Chapter 6

I have no idea how I got from the hills of Oakland back to East Palo Alto. I’m guessing my maternal instinct that all women have kicked in because ‘til this day I cannot remember.

All I remember is pulling up to Vicky’s, taking deep breaths and summoning all the courage and strength I had to get out the car.

Like some scary form of de-ja-vu, fear hit me when I knocked on the door. I had not been back to Vicky’s since that night and had not seen Mr. Lopez since then.

He’d haunted a few of my dreams, but other than that the situation was in the past.

Oh, but a bitch didn’t forgive or forget.

I turned the knob when I got no answer. It was unlocked. Creepy, I know.

I pushed the door open. The T.V. emitted a ghostly glow over the front room. My heart was pounding as I looked inside. My voice was hoarse, but I tried anyway.

“Vicky!”

She didn’t answer. I stepped into my past, a place I vowed to never return.

I instinctively looked towards the couch and froze. Mr. Lopez was laying there, hands wide open with a bloody wife beater. He was dead alright.

My first time seeing a dead body was at T-money’s less than an hour before. And I couldn’t get used to it, but I had to find Vicky.

I kept my eyes on Mr. Lopez expecting him to wake up and come after me. I made it to the hallway and reluctantly turned away from Mr. Lopez. There was a creepiness about the place.

“Vicky!”

My voice wasn’t loud enough. I knew I should have called the police, maybe, but I didn’t. Instead, I played like a white hoe and walked through that dark and scary ass house. I looked around. I was in so much pain but ignored it.

I pushed Vicky’s door open, and I wished I had my gun. I looked around and no Vicky. Where the fuck was this hoe? I was going to leave and search somewhere else, but my attention was drawn towards the closet.

I staggered over to the closet. It took all my strength to slide the wooded door.

“Vicky?”

I looked around.

Why I hadn’t turned on the light or thought about it? I have no idea. I looked down, and there she was.

“Vicky!”

I reached in pretty much like she’d done when I was in there and pulled her out. She was shaking and staring straight. Her cell phone was clutched in one hand, and the knife was in the other. She was in shock or grief.

She had blood all over her. I pulled her out and sat painfully down and hugged her.

“I, I, I, killed him Shi,” she said.

I was trying to put all my pain aside.

“What happened?”

I had her head resting against my chest. I was staring at the closet and trying to visualize my best friend stabbing her father to death.

It just did not add up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” I asked.

We grew silent.

“I was in his room,” she was talking in a monotone and very slow. “I was lying in his bed, we were talking. I put my hand under his pillow…”

My heart was pounding, and she was crying again.

Did he try and rape her, too? His own daughter?

“That’s why you left, you should have told me!”

“Vick, I-”

“I found your monkey panties…”

I was silent. She knew now.

“And I killed him. I love you, Shi.”

That was all. I couldn’t get any more details out of her. She was shaking, and tears were leaking out. We sat together.

I knew we do it forever. I grabbed her phone and called the only person I knew to call.

Dr. Richards’ voice answered sounding groggy and deep.

“Dr. Richards?” I said.

“Who is… Shi?”

I had no idea what to say. When she said my name, she sounded more alert and worried.

“What’s wrong honey? Are you okay?”

I wanted to cry but kept it together. Vicky was staring up at me.

“Shi?”

“Mr. Lopez is dead,” I said a little too loudly.

“Dead? What? Scheyenne, what’s going on?”

She was concerned, and I could hear it in her voice. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I had to protect Vicky, so I said, “I killed him.”

Vicky’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Scheyenne where are you?” Dr. Richards asked.

“In Vicky’s room.”

“I’m on my way. Tell me what happened.”

I heard her moving around and realized she was serious.

“He,” I didn’t know if I could say it. I’d only told King, and then I never actually said it was Mr. Lopez. I only said, ‘he.’

“He raped me.”

“Come again.” I knew she was shocked. I tried to ignore Vicky’s pleading eyes.

“He raped me…” I repeated.

“What?” she yelled. I heard the car start. “When? How?”

“I, he raped me.” That was all I could get out.

“Scheyenne, is Vicky there with you?” I nodded knowing she couldn’t see me. “Are you sure he’s dead?” I nodded again. “Scheyenne, I won’t be there for a few hours, tell Vicky to call the police… and Shi, you’re crazy. Relapse baby; don’t say anything… just relapse.” I nodded.

“Vick, call the police,” I said. I wasn’t getting off the phone with Dr. Richards. Vicky looked at me confused. “Tell them I just killed your dad… for raping me.”

Chapter 7

I was charged as an adult from the jump. I guess it was the latest trend in the state of California.

After several hours of questioning by the East Palo Alto Police, I was taken to Hillcrest Juvenile Hall.

I had shut down like Dr. Richards told me to, and I prayed she knew what she was doing. She did.

I was being taken to the police station when she arrived. She informed an officer that she was my doctor, and I’d called her after the murder. She explained that I was very emotionally and mentally disturbed due to the fact that my entire family had been massacred three years ago. She also explained that I’d complained about sexual abuse.

So, I was taken to the police station and questioned. After several hours of silence on my part, a woman was let into the interrogation room.

Her name was Deborah Guttmann.

She introduced herself as my attorney.

When she took a seat next to me she whispered, “Ebony told me to tell you not to worry she’ll take care of Vicky.”

My heart leapt to hear it because I was worried sick about Vicky. She had been taken in another room to give her witness statement.

Dr. Richards was there also giving a statement.

After a few minutes of arguing and threats from Mrs. Guttmann, I was taken – not in handcuffs because as my lawyer made perfectly clear I was the victim – to Chope Hospital for a rape kit.

Luckily, for me I’d recently been beaten and brutally raped. I say luck because it supports my story and I didn’t have to prove the abuse. What they didn’t know was Mr. Lopez was not responsible this time.

I was photographed and put in a room with a cop at the door. I was so scared I just wanted to go home. With a few more threats and arguing Mrs. Guttmann got Dr. Richards in to see me. After all, I was a mentally unstable girl with a history of being in the state hospital. It helped that Dr. Richards was a doctor who worked at said hospital.

She hugged me and kissed me, then whispered, “We’ll talk,” so that Mrs. Guttmann didn’t hear.

Dr. Richard did all the talking for me with Mrs. Guttmann and after ten minutes a defense and a game plan was established.

First Dr. Richards and Mrs. Guttmann would try and keep me out of Juvenile Hall. They’d try and keep me at the hospital for a psychological evaluation or suicide watch.

I mean I had just been sexually assaulted and killed a man. I was only sixteen, and that’s some traumatizing shit.

Mrs. Guttmann decided to use my mental history in my favor. I was incompetent to stand trial she was saying. Dr. Richards did not like that idea because she said it didn’t get rid of the charges. I would just be sent away to the state hospital until my competency was restored. Then if ever I’d be facing murder charges.

“The state hospital is a trap, believe me we know,” Dr. Richards told Mrs. Guttmann.

“Well, Ebony, because of her condition right now I’m legally obligated to declare a doubt,” Mrs. Guttmann said.

Dr. Richards nodded as she thought. I stayed silent.

“Okay,” Dr. Richards said. “But can’t it wait? I mean you said it could take up to two months to determine her competency, and I can assure you she is competent.”

Mrs. Guttmann looked at Dr. Richards and then me.

“I can maybe hold off or justify not declaring a doubt ‘til after her preliminary examination,” She said more to herself.

I had no idea what they were talking about but Dr. Richards seem to, so I just listened and let her handle it.

“Good, then what?”

“If she’s found competent then we’ll go the self-defense route, and she could possibly get manslaughter which is a lesser charge, or she can be found not guilty by reason of insanity. Manslaughter is five years but less for a juvenile.”

“The insanity plea?” Dr. Richards asked.

Mrs. Guttmann shrugged, “Two years to life in the state hospital.”

My eyes widened. I’d been given something for the pain the pain which seemed a part of my existence.

If I was found insane, I’d have to go back to the state hospital for treatment. Two years of psychotherapy in the state hospital. Two years was the minimum, but if I never got better or they felt I was not improving, I could be there for life.

Dr. Richards shook her head and said, “We’ll go with self-defense.”

I stayed quiet even when Mrs. Guttmann tried to talk to me. With all this talk, I was really scared.

I’d been raped repeatedly, beat, and seen four people killed, and five dead bodies in the last twenty-four hours; that’s a lot.

Dr. Richards and Mrs. Guttmann were unsuccessful in keeping me in the hospital. Apparently, San Mateo County’s Hillcrest Juvenile Hall had a suicide watch room equipped with camera and on call mental health staff. However, if Dr. Richards wanted she could have privileged access to me.

I was taken away scared outside my mind.

The booking process was grueling. I would not speak, not even for my free phone call. I was later led to a locker room looking room and asked to remove my clothes by a female who was at least 200-pounds overweight. I was strip searched, and that shit is so humiliating and degrading.

I was given a thick painter’s smock and a blanket just as thick and lead to a room off the hall from booking. I was placed in a small, dirty room. I had no idea what was stuck to the walls, and it smelled like pee. There was a mattress on the filthy floor and a camera in the corner.

I swear Vicky bettah be happy. She’s so lucky she’s my bitch.

I was there for the weekend and got visits from Dr. Richards both days. The first day I was led to a small room with two chairs. She occupied one. We were locked in.

“You go to court Monday morning,” she said when I sat down. I nodded. My messed up hair and appearance in a Ferguson gown didn’t faze her. Guess she seen it all the time. I was so used to not talking I didn’t know if I could.

“Vicky’s staying in a hotel room next door to mine,” she informed me.

I nodded and let out a sigh. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come out.

“Mrs. Guttmann is a good lawyer. She has a good reputation.

“I hired her because I heard these public defenders are called public pretenders,” she laughed. The humor was lost on me.

“What happened, Shi?” she asked after a long silence.

I was going to tell her everything, even about my drug dealing. I’d sat in that cold, nasty, dirty, stank ass room thinking of what to say. I was gonna tell her about me getting high. I was gonna tell her all of it, but instead I cried.

Chapter 8

Monday came, and Vicky was in court with Dr. Richards, King, and surprisingly MaMaw. I was given orange pants, sweater and shower shoes for court.

I’d seen court shows on T.V. and the courtroom I was in looked like a low budget one.

The audience was allotted five chairs against a wall, and there was no jury box. The judge was a woman named Judge Diaz and this hoe looked dead-on Judge Judy.

The D.A. was a fat man who looked like a walrus named Staffer.

It was supposed to be my arraignment. My name was called, and my charges were read. I was accused of first-degree murder. I was supposed to leave after my name was read; I guess I was supposed to go back to my cell.

But noooo, Mr. Bitch-ass-Staffer said, “Your honor the people would like to make a special motion. Ms. Iverson stabbed a man to death. If the deceased did in any way try to harm Ms. Iverson, the first five stabs to his torso should have immobilized him… he never left the couch and Ms. Iverson continued to stab long after the he was dead…” he stopped talking abruptly letting the judge picture it. Mrs. Guttmann looked at me confused and then at the D.A. who said, “The people have compelling evidence that Ms. Iverson did this with malice intent. She knew what she was doing and the attack was-”

“Objection your honor, this is an arraignment, not a trial. My client is innocent, the allegations have yet to be proven,” Mrs. Guttmann half yelled.

It made me feel better that she was talking since she was supposed to be defending me.

“Mr. Staffer this is an arraignment,” Judge Diaz said.

“The people are making a motion to charge Ms. Iverson as an adult.”

The courtroom went silent.

Mrs. Guttmann went off. She yelled and screamed and argued.

An hour later, I was no longer a minor charged with murder looking at single digits if convicted; I was an adult with the prospect of sitting on death row.

I was transported to San Mateo County’s Redwood City Jail, and because I was still physically a minor, I was placed in protective custody. Yes, still not talking and in my smock.

I had no bail, but I could get one now that I was an adult in the eyes of the penal system. It was horrible.

Vicky, Dr. Richards, King and MaMaw came to every one of my court dates.

The self-defense claim was out; it stopped being self-defense once he was dead. Mr. Lopez had sixty-four holes in him. I hadn’t really had time to talk to Vicky and my mail, our conversations were monitored so I couldn’t ask the hoe what the hell she was thinking. I guessed she went crazy when she found my panties under her dad’s pillow.

She put it all together and killed him.

She loved me more than her father, and that was saying something because Mr. Lopez was Vicky’s only parent and they were really close.

She got everything and he spoiled her because of the loss of her mother. At my preliminary hearing, Mrs. Guttmann introduced the reason of insanity defense as a scare tactic, hoping the government would lessen the charge since the evidence was overwhelmingly in my favor for an insanity plea.

But they didn’t, Mrs. Guttmann filed every motion she could think of and the government was pushing for life.

I know I was sixteen. Life? I heard juvenile life was twelve years. I’d get out when I turned twenty-eight. But I wasn’t being charged as a juvenile, I was an adult. So, they were offering adult life, which is ‘til I die.

The D.A. only offered the cops on the scene and the pathologist as witnesses.

Mrs. Guttmann told me that San Mateo County, just like Santa Clara County, had a ninety-nine point nine percent conviction rate, mainly because defendants plea out. She also told me that the two counties were not interested in finding the truth but to convict, that’s why they did not call Dr. Richards or Vicky. But, you know Mrs. Guttmann did.

She called Dr. Richards and they went over her credentials, how we met and my institutionalization. They went over my phone call to her the night of the murder. They also went over what she knew about my mental health and her professional opinion.

“Dr. Richards…” Mrs. Guttmann said. “Are you aware of Ms. Iverson’s psychological diagnoses?”

“Yes, I am.”

“What are they?”

“Ms. Iverson has been diagnosed as schizoaffective which is a relatively new term in mental health.”

“Can you tell the court what that is?”

“Yes, in general schizoaffective disorder is a person who suffers from schizophrenia and has depressive and bipolar symptoms.”

Mrs. Guttmann nodded, “No further questions.”

The D.A. who was now a woman named Bell spoke from the table. I thought she’d walk around, but the preliminary hearing was like a mock trial. The courtroom looked different from the Juvenile Hall’s one. They jury and audience had seats.

“Mrs. Richards,” the D.A. said, and that was her first mistake.

“Mrs. Bell, I went to school for ten plus years and received not only a doctorate but a masters in psychology. I am a doctor. My name is Dr. Richards, not Mrs. Richards. So, if you would be so kind as to use the title I’d appreciate it very much…

“I mean I feel I’ve earned it.”

The room was silent, and I couldn’t help but smile. Dr. Richards winked at me.

“Dr. Richards is it your clinical and professional opinion as a consulting doctor on Ms. Iverson’s case that she is schizoaffective,” Mrs. Bell said clearly upset about being checked.

“I am not sure what you just asked, but I’ll answer yes, it is my understanding that she has been diagnosed as schizoaffective,” Dr. Richards was unmovable.

She didn’t crack a smile, but I could see the twinkle in her eye.

“You’ve testified that you’ve spent an unusual amount of time with Ms. Iverson which means you’ve had time to observe her, and I am sure made your own diagnoses.”

“I have.”

“Tell me, Dr. Richards, do you believe Ms. Iverson is schizoaffective?”

My heart was pounding, and I felt my stomach drop when she said, “No.”

Mrs. Guttmann started scribbling notes.

“Then why is she diagnosed as such?”

Dr. Richards sighed, she looked pained as she said, “Mrs. Bell, I was not the doctor who diagnosed her. What Dr. Felter saw I do not. I do not believe Ms. Iverson is schizoaffective.”

“Well, what do you believe or think?”

The D.A. was on it because if she could turn my witness against me and give doubt about my insanity plea then she had leverage.

“I don’t think Ms. Iverson suffers from schizoaffective disorder, depressive disorder, or bipolar disorder.”

My mouth dropped.

What was she doing? Was she turning on me?

I guessed she was under oath, so she had to tell the truth. I was grinding my teeth as I listened.

“Ms. Iverson is a very sad girl who has experienced a traumatic event which caused her a lot of grief. Has she experienced depression? Of course, who wouldn’t when their family is killed that way and so suddenly?

“But does she suffer from depression?

“No. Depression is a chemical imbalance, and like its sister bipolar disorder it can be helped with medication.

“No amount of medication can change what happened to that child…”

“So you believe there is no such chemical imbalance in Ms. Iverson which causes her to act? She is in complete control?”

Dr. Richards smiled and shrugged, “More or less, yes.”

I was wondering why Mrs. Guttmann wasn’t saying anything, and I know she wanted to.

“Is it possible she made up the rape?”

Dr. Richards shook her head, “No. I believe it happened.”

“Well, why didn’t she tell anyone? Why hold back?”

“Objection,” Mrs. Guttmann finally yelled.

“Sustained, Mrs. Bell yes or no questions and please reframe from a line of questioning based on hearsay,” the ancient looking judge said dully.

“Dr. Richards, tell us. The defendant is pleading not guilty by reason of insanity. Tell the court your honest professional opinion about that as it regards to the defendant. Is or was Ms. Iverson insane?... In your opinion.”

“From my time with Ms. Iverson and per my diagnosis of Ms. Iverson… yes, I believe she was.”

I was on the edge of my seat hands cuffed and legs shackled. I was barely breathing, I thought she had turned on me. She said I had no mental illness, at least I thought that’s what she said. I held my breath hoping Mrs. Bell asked what I and obviously, Mrs. Guttmann was thinking.

“Diagnosis? You just testified she had one diagnosis which you disagreed with. You testified in your opinion she has no chemical imbalance.”

Dr. Richards nodded, “And like I said it is my opinion that she does not have a chemical imbalance and yes she does have one current diagnosis and like I said I did not diagnose her nor agree with the diagnosis. You never asked my diagnosis.”

“Your diagnosis?”

“Yes Mrs. Bell my diagnosis. I am a clinical psychologist, and I have spent a lot of time with Ms. Iverson, why wouldn’t I have diagnosed her?”

“Well Mrs.… Dr. Richards, what is your diagnosis?”

Dr. Richards smiled, “Before I answer let me say this: all mental health disorders are not all the responsibility of chemicals. Trauma is a major factor in a lot of cases and Ms. Iverson has been through a very traumatic ordeal.

“I believe Ms. Iverson suffers from P.T.S.D. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder which can cause flash backs, black outs, depressive and bipolar symptoms and on occasion depending how severe the trauma and which is common in rape victims: psychosis.”

I had no idea what that was but psycho hit me, and I guessed it was good because Mrs. Bell had no further questions.

Neither did Mrs. Guttmann.

The next witness was Dr. Felter and let me tell you after she was done testifying I could not have been happier to see her ole hatin’ ass. Her last statement to Mrs. Guttmann almost made me cry it was so beautiful.

“I am not surprised anything like this happened. I am only surprised that she did not hurt more people or herself sooner. It was bound to happen, Scheyenne is a very troubled young lady who needs a lot of help. She had no reason being released when she was, and I was against it. However, I was out voted, and she was prematurely discharged without medication.”

Leave it to this bitch to make me seem like a serial killer. Hell, she even got my name right. I was so proud of her.

The last witness Mrs. Guttmann called was Vicky, and Vicky; that girl did it.

The judge ate her up. She cried and all, and it was her dad I killed, and she was on my side. She explained finding my panties and how she knew. She explained she forced me to come over to talk when her dad was gone. I’d gotten there while she was in the shower and she told me to wait for her in the front room. She heard noises and then me scream. She was trying to get dressed quickly. When she did, she found her dad dead on the couch, and she found me in the closet holding the knife, stuck and unresponsive.

Then she said the moneymaker.

“Daddy had a drinking problem.”

I swear that’s my bitch. And I loved her.

I was supposed to get a bail hearing at the same time as my prelim… well, the judge surprised us all. He stated that he was going to drop the charges unless the government amended them because I was clearly the victim and out of my fucking mind.

A month later, I pled out to a minor’s misdemeanor for involuntary manslaughter and was given an undetermined stay in the state hospital.

And that was how a bitch was once again committed to the state hospital.

Part 2: I stand alone…

Chapter 9

The second time in the state hospital was completely different. Maybe because this time I was part of the criminally insane.

Dr. Richards had some pull but not a lot thanks to Dr. Felter’s ole hatin’ ass. So I saw her every day, and we talked, but it wasn’t the same as before.

King wrote me a lot, and I called, but I didn’t have much to say. I mean I didn’t know what to say.

With T-money gone, he said it was not the same. He had no idea who to buy from because his old distributors were dry. He managed, though. He still had a little stashed away, but they had bills. It was going fast.

MaMaw wanted to come visit me, so she and King were setting up a schedule and time to drive down. King was procrastinating because I had no idea what to say and I really didn’t want to see them, well I didn’t want them to see me.

Dr. Richards offered to take Vicky in, but Vicky wanted to stay close to home so Dr. Richards spoke with Amekia’s parents who were more than happy to take Vicky in for the year ‘til she graduated. They’d voted for Mr. Lopez.

Vicky wrote me of course, and I called until her cell phone got cut off. I wrote and was waiting for Amekia’s number, which I should have already had when I got an unexpected visit.

I’d been in a meeting as we called my therapy sessions when Dr. Richards came in. One of my many doctors assigned to me was Dr. Z, short for a thirteen letterer. She was some white hoe that was surprisingly nice and sympathetic to my fragile little mind.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, if it’s not too much can you cut today’s session short? I need to borrow Scheyenne,” Dr. Richards asked.

Dr. Z smiled, “Sure, we were actually cutting it short today so Scheyenne could make me a list of emotions commonly miscategorized as anger.”

I had no idea I was going to do that.

“Thank you, Reba, you’re the best.”

Dr. Z smiled looking pleased to have the compliment.

I got up without a word and followed Dr. Richards.

“I have a surprise for you, Shi.”

I followed her to my room. I did not have a roommate yet because I was in the stage of my therapy that the doctors thought reflection time alone was key.

I looked at Dr. Richards and walked into my single bedroom with the view of the courtyard.

The door closed behind me. I looked at it and then back into the room. Dr. Richards was not in the room with me. Someone else was.

My eyes watered, and a bitch felt like Celie from the Color Purple when she saw Nettie for the first time after all of them years.

Vicky was sitting on my bed looking frazzled – whatever that means – yet fierce as ever. All she was wearing were sweats and a M.A. P.E. shirt with her name on it. I didn’t see any makeup, and her hair was pulled back into a simple high ponytail.

I’d been in for six months, and this was my first visit and the first time in about a year being this close to Vicky without a glass in-between us. She looked plain but beautiful, like the little girl I knew back in elementary school, innocent.

She smiled at me, and her tears came first then mine. We did the Celie-Netty-tetter-totter thing ‘til we were close enough to hug.

Then we cried.

I guess that’s why the hoe didn’t wear no makeup. My bitch was smart.

We sat next to each other on the bed. I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m pregnant.”

I almost got whiplash the way I swung my head around. She was staring at the ground. I looked at her stomach; still flat.

“Russell?” I didn’t know what else to say. I was so fucking shocked.

“I can’t keep it.” Speech was failing my ass as she kept talking. “Daddy drank too much, and he didn’t have life insurance… it lapsed a few years ago.”

I felt horrible, I would have felt even worse if I really did kill him.

“I’m too young, I need to finish school, Shi I can’t have a baby. I have no one, no family to help me… nothing.”

I couldn’t say she had me. I was doing two to life in a mental institution. She was crying. I knew the decision must have been hard; I could tell by her face.

“It’s better that way.”

“When did you find out?” I asked.

“A few weeks ago, I… I didn’t wanna tell you on the phone or in a letter. I told Dr. Richards and we talked about it, and I told her my decision. She came and got me and here I am.”

I was nodding being torn up inside.

“You’re all I have left, Shi. It’s always been me, and you and I’d, I’d keep the baby if I had you out there with me but…”

I nodded. Boy was she making me feel guilty as hell. We were all we had left, all the family we had.

“What about Russell?”

She was shaking her head wiping tears.

“First, I wasn’t gonna tell him. But I decided he had the right to know, his family don’t like me I guess, said it ain’t his and they won’t have nothing to do with me or the baby. I told him we could do it alone. He don’t agree, and we’ll probably never talk again, but it’s my choice.”

She sounded cold, far away. I could feel Vicky’s pain. We sat in silence, her head on my shoulder and my arm around her.

“Shi,” her voice was flat.

“Hmm.”

“What happened?”

I still had not told anyone. It was the only part of my therapy I was not progressing in. Dr. Richards had not pushed, but other doctors had and still I stayed silent. I shut down.

I couldn’t just tell Vicky I killed her dad for raping me. I took a deep breath and told her about my date and run in with her father.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrugged.

I had a hard time believing it myself still.

“He stole something you can never get back.”

I ignored the comment and told her about the day I left.

“I swear I would have killed that bastard then if I knew.”

I said nothing at all, and it was silent again.

“How’d you know?”

“I told you Shi, your panties in his room; it didn’t take a lot to put it together. I left his room, and I went to mine, and it all began falling in place… I was so mad at him, Shi… for hurting you, for taking you away,” she explained crying again. “Girl, I don’t remember it all, just calling you and all the blood.” I nodded absentmindedly. She was talking about it as if she’d stepped on an ant. “Shi… my dad didn’t rape you that night, but you… what happened?”

She deserved an answer, but I just wasn’t ready. I think I was still in denial. I asked if we could talk about something else.

She said, “Yeah,” after I promised to tell her.

“How’s King?” I asked, and she shrugged.

“Ain’t really seen or talked to him in a while, no need to. We were only connected through you.” I nodded, I’d spoken to him a week ago. The question was to change the subject. “But I heard he’s doing bad.” I looked at her guessing she knew about the slowing in the game since T-money died. T-money, the man I had not thought about because it brought all the unanswered questions and pain.

“Why?” I decided to ask seeing how much she knew, and the answer she gave me left me numb and speechless.

Chapter 10

I wasn’t told because MaMaw did not want me worrying.

She told me, “Child, you have enough on yah plate. You don’t need to be worryin’ ‘bout no ole woman like me. God will provide and find away.”

She had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and her diabetes was taking its toll.

She had a stroke and passed away in her sleep a month after Vicky’s visit. Of course, I didn’t get to go to the funeral though Dr. Richards tried to get me there and was willing to lose her job by just up and taking me. But I told her it was okay I mean I didn’t really wanna go, I didn’t think I could take it. I put on a strong face, but a bitch was weak… for about a day.

That day Dr. Richards spent the night on an air mattress next to my bed.

The next morning I was fine.

It was as if nothing happened at all. However, something did happen, and I wouldn’t talk about it or even think about MaMaw.

I went to my meetings and had even been complemented on progress and my upbeat attitude. I was being really receptive and taking my treatment seriously one of the doctors commented although I didn’t talk about what got me back in the state hospital or MaMaw. I was doing very well for a week, and that’s about when Dr. Richards had, had enough.

I was talking to an old lady named Myrtle who was a lifer because she was a danger not only to herself but others. She’d been institutionalized all her life, and she was comfortable. I made a lunch date with her after we played a very slow game of tetherball. She talked my ears off about her cats and all her grandkids. I knew she just needed someone to talk to and was so happy to have someone to unload on that she made up all sorts of shit that was probably real only in her mind.

I went to my room, got my robe, loofa, and soap and went down to take a shower. When I got back to my room to change Dr. Richards was sitting on my bed, and she was not happy.

“Scheyenne, sit down,” was the first thing she said.

I was in my robe, but I sat down smiling, ignoring her anger. Ignorance is fucking bliss.

“This is not healthy,” she said. “I spoke to all your doctors and read your file. You know I check up on you.”

I smiled and nodded realizing I hadn’t seen her in two days, which was strange since I saw her every day, even on her days off. But like I said, ‘Ignorance is bliss.’

“You were raped and beat. You’ve not once said a damn thing about it. You think acting like it didn’t happen will make it go away? You think it’ll make it not happen? Not real?”

“No, it’s just I cannot control what others do, all I can do is live my life. I can’t change the past so why dwell on it?” I told her as I began drying the little water that got in my hair with the sleeve of my robe.

“Bullshit!” I blinked. “Someone you love and were very close to just died.”

“And I grieved; you spent the night rem-”

“When was the last time you talked about her? Thought about her for that matter?”

I didn’t say anything. I was too busy thinking about my lunch date with Myrtle that I was missing. I didn’t want her thinking I stood her up.

I sighed, “Is that all, Dr. Richards? I have a lunch date with Myrtle, and I want to-”

She was shaking her head, “Scheyenne, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dr. Richards,” I smiled really touched. It came out so quick; I hadn’t said that word to anyone in a long time. But I meant it, and it was true.

“And that’s why I’m doing this.”

“What?” I asked lifting my eyebrow.

“Scheyenne, I’ve been in a meeting all morning with Dr. Baker, that bitch Felter and the rest of the board… I twisted some arms and after designing a specialized treatment plan and explaining what I was intending to do… I’ve been assigned as the leading doctor on your case and given a green light.”

I smiled, “Good.”

“First thing I did was take all the other doctors off your case, so, you will only deal with me.”

“Thank you,” I said happy as hell.

I mean Dr. Richards was officially my doctor now. I loved her. She was so real she fixed me last time. I owed her a lot.

“Next, I’ve compiled an extensive collection of material for you to look through.”

“Alright,” I smiled wondering what type of work I’d be doing. I was getting excited with all she was telling me. I don’t know my dumb ass was looking at it like a freaking project, which I guess it was.

“Come on,” she said getting up.

“But my lunch-”

“Scheyenne, get dressed!”

I was shocked by the authority in her voice; I hadn’t heard her sound like that since the first day we met when she followed me out into the hall. I got up and went to my closet and began getting dressed.

Fully dressed I followed Dr. Richards out of my unit and to an elevator. We went to the eighth floor. I’d heard about the eighth floor; the eighth floor was for hard-core people. People who needed to be physically restrained. People who were dangerous and locked down. Had I been violent I’d be there because I was a criminal commitment. I noticed the difference as soon as I stepped off the elevator.

It was dark and cold with a metallic jailhouse feel. The halls were lined with large steel doors with a small window and a sl0t to slide things through. I was wondering who we were going to see and if it was some type of scared straight thing.

The hall we were walking down turned and I saw a desk where some people in scrubs sat. There were camera monitors of the rooms; I could see little people here and there.

I was led passed the camera monitors and down another hall. The last door was opened. Dr. Richards stood aside and motioned for me to go in. Heart pounding as I tried to think of what I would see I walked in.

The room had no windows and a camera in the top corner. There was a regular bed with the regular bedding and a steel desk with a steel stool coming out of the ground. On top of the desk were stacks of papers. There was barely enough room to move around in. The bed took up most of the room.

“Scheyenne,” I turned and looked at Dr. Richards. “You can’t run away from yourself… I won’t let you. This is for your own good, I love you…” She looked sad; as she spoke, she didn’t look at me. “I love you, and I’ll be back to see you tomorrow to see if you’ve made any progress.”

I was confused.

She stepped back and closed the door with a loud clink. I walked up calmly and tried the door. There was no knob, and it wouldn’t budge, it was locked from the outside. But still I didn’t register anything other than my classic slight confusion. I shrugged and walked over to the desk and opened the first folder and my heart stopped.

Staring up at me was a picture of MaMaw. I tried to ignore it. The next picture was of Poppa. The next was my mom, then G-dub, Mr. Lopez, and finally Free. There were more, but I couldn’t look. I turned and ran to the door. I banged and clawed at it not making a sound while my heart throbbed in my ears.

“Dr. Richards,” I began screaming. I was kicking the door. I had to leave. I had to get out; the walls were closing in on me. I sat down after tiring myself out. I was on the ground in the corner of the room rocking back and forth singing every song I could remember aloud. I did it to stop the sound of my mind, which may have made no actual sound at all but seemed to be the loudest thing I had ever heard.

Chapter 11

The memorial service for Tommy ‘T-money’ Gibbs was not planned until it was confirmed he was in the house. The memorial service was not open to the public and lightly attended. It was scheduled early and postponed several times until everyone’s schedule permitted. Janell, with the assistance of the small black book she rescued out of T-money’s desk in his upstairs office, created the guest list and called the invitations in.

Over the last eight months, she lost many hours of sleep helping the then homeless girls that once living in the Money Mansion find homes and stable jobs all the while trying to make sure they at least went to school part time. She’d had many a discussion with T-money and knew what he wanted done for the girls in case of his demise, which he always thought about. T-money had more than enough money to take care of all of them for life if need be.

The memorial was held at the home in Elk Grove California that Janell bought with T-money’s encouragement.

“It’s always best to have your own shit,” T-money told her. “Just in case.”

He was right. Janell was able to drive her Porsche to Elk Grove and sleep in a warm bed after it all was said and done.

The memorial was scheduled for nine o’clock. The first to arrive were the five women T-money dubbed B.I.T.C.H.

Janell had her reasons for who she invited to the memorial service, and T-money loved B.I.T.C.H. just as much as they loved him. They’d done a lot of work for him and were as loyal as they came.

Several of them cried which Janell thought was strange seeing what they did for a living.

Janell led them to the living room where they made small talk, mostly about T-money.

At nine o’clock on the dot, everyone else arrived.

At nine thirty, Janell sat in a love seat staring at the ten people she’d called to her home for T-money’s memorial.

B.I.T.C.H., looking very much like the grieving daughters, shared a sofa. Even without makeup their skin glowed, and they looked flawless.

Seated close by was a large-as in tall-black man in a polo, slacks and deck shoes. His bald head and glasses gave him a mixed matched look. Like he was, a white business tycoon trapped in a black basketball player’s body. His name was Lavoy Tavern. He was a young kid selling drugs in Oakland to pay for his mother’s medical bills. T-money found out about his situation and decided to have a sit down with him. Once T-money learned, he wanted to go to college and study criminal justice he made him empty his pockets of all the drugs he had. Extracting a promise from him T-money paid his mother’s medical bills and put him on a plane to Washington D.C. where the boy started college. Now, Lavoy went by L.T. and was D.E.A. With his help, T-money kept a low profile and had inside information. T-money was never picked up because of Lavoy and his quick work with destroying documents. He owed T-money his life and gladly risked both his career and life for the man because without T-money he wouldn’t have either one of them. He would have either ended up dead or in jail like so many of his childhood friends.

Seated next to him was a high yellow man wearing the customary F.B.I. wear. His name was Tavonte Hodges. He had a lot of contact with Lavoy trying to keep T-money a secret from the government and Uncle Sam. His previous record had been sealed long ago, and the Tommy Gibbs who lived in Oakland Hills was just another rich entrepreneur who owned real estate around the world. He sat back watching his bank account grow. Lavoy and Tavonte have been a good team over the last ten years and were very successful. They’ve both had virtually no contact with T-money other than the rare package of information and pictures of their families.

Silva Moreno was a short Mexican man who looked like he was still in his teens. T-money met Silva when he ran away from a group home and was hiding in one of his crack houses. On a routine visit to make sure, the place was not a safety violation T-money noticed Silva was very young and looked nothing like any of the other junkies. Silva was packed up and sent to college after he’d gotten his GED and became an emancipated minor with the help of T-money. He was now a defense lawyer; the supervising partner in the law firm T-money established and paid for.

The Firm was based in Oakland and specialized in criminal law specifically drug and tax law. The Firm was also known to have good civil litigators also.

Mickal Glenn was a dark nerdy looking black man who T-money pulled out of the drug game. T-money usually worked with the youngsters with a future and dreams. The ones who dared to dream and sold drugs as a means not a way. Mickal was a mathematics major and soon became a banker. He worked as the branch manager at a Bank of America in Stockton and a consultant for T-money. All of T-money’s money was handled by Mickal. When T-money wanted to make a large purchase, or wash money, Mickal handled almost all of it and knew where everything was.

The last person Janell called had the most to lose, and he was visibly the most nervous. But, T-money’s name got him there. His name was Jeremy Pointer, and he was T-money’s first success story. He was also two people under the director of the C.I.A.

Janell smiled and began, “I don’t know how much you all know about T-money and the events surrounding his death. But, before we get into all that, let me tell you the real story so that we are all on the same page, and we are clear about what happened between T-money and his old best friend, Johnny…”

Chapter 12

I fell asleep sitting on the ground.

I woke up in the bed. Dr. Richards was sitting on the desk next to the papers and folders.

“Did you read any of this?” There was no need to respond; she knew I hadn’t. She sighed, “Well, we can’t start. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

My eyes got big when she tried to walk out.

“No! Please, just let me go back to my room, Dr. Richards. I understand what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it… really. But-”

She was shaking her head, and I saw that she looked old and sad.

“No you don’t, baby, not yet you don’t.”

She opened and closed the door.

I sat up looking at the files. I could not open that door, so I curled up in bed and sang and hummed. I did all I could to keep my mind occupied. I had no idea what time it was, and there was no windows, so I couldn’t see the outside world.

That was the night the nightmares started.

Poppa was crying and haunting me. So was my mother and G-dub. I woke up in a cold sweat, tears in my eyes. My heart was pounding, and I stayed awake in bed looking around, waiting for someone to come from under the bed. I don’t know how long I stayed that way because I lost all track of time.

When Dr. Richards finally came in I didn’t move, just laid down staring at her.

“Scheyenne,” she said. I didn’t answer; nothing I said would change anything or get me out of that room. She wanted me to grieve, she was trying to force me, and I didn’t want to deal with all that. I couldn’t deal with it all, it was just too much. I couldn’t handle it alone.

I don’t know, I guess a bitch was traumatized.

I’d been offered food, but I wasn’t eating. I didn’t wanna. They started putting the trays inside my room and letting them stack up. Meals were the only way to tell time.

The first day was the longest, and I slept a lot. I realized when I got privy to the counting food front Dr. Richards came to see me twice. The first time Dr. Richards saw my food untouched and noticed I wasn’t eating, she said nothing. But the next day she spoke on it.

“Shi, you’re not eating,” she said like I didn’t fucking know that.

She sat on the desk. I obviously wasn’t ready to move forward since I had not touched her paperwork.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I ain’t hungry.”

I could barely hear my own voice.

I knew I was hurting her by not eating, and I didn’t care. She nodded and then left.

The next day she came back it was the same you’re-not-eating-I’m-not-hungry thing.

“Scheyenne, not eating isn’t going to get you out of here… First, it takes a few days to dehydrate yourself, so that’s the first concern. If you don’t drink anything by tomorrow, I will have you strapped down and an I.V. started.”

I was lying in bed unimpressed.

She wouldn’t dare.

“Starving takes longer, but for insurance I’ll have a feeding tube put in also,” she said and then left.

She was lying.

The next day she came back while I was sleep with a roll of tape. When I woke up, I saw her and my heart stopped. This bitch was taping the pictures up over the desk.

“No!” I moaned getting ready to cry. “Please.”

They were haunting me and the times I didn’t have nightmares and actually slept were rare and short lived. But Dr. Richards did not know, and she wasn’t listening.

“Stop! Stop it!” I screamed.

She was busy working, hurting me more. I tried to close my eyes, but the images were burned in my mind. I could see them staring at me.

“Dr. Richards… please,” I was not crying anymore I was begging.

I rolled on my side staring at the door and breathing. When she was finished, she walked to the door.

“You take them down, I’ll be back to put them up again tomorrow. I’ll laminate them, I’ll wallpaper this room, Shi. You need to look at them.”

I said nothing, just stared straight ahead.

“Look at them!” she yelled.

It scared me, and I jumped but stayed in bed.

She turned to leave, and I heard my voice say, “I’m having nightmares.”

She didn’t leave. She stood there, back to me. “I’m sorry to hear that. But I can’t help you, Shi, if you won’t help yourself.”

And she left me alone with them staring at me, haunting me.

Chapter 13

I have said it before: grief is a funny thing, well, not funny but a strange thing.

I believe it was day five. I was one day away from an I.V. and feeding tube. Dr. Richards had come each day and gone. I had a feeling she was probably watching me on the camera.

Anyway, grief is weird in the way that it strikes at any time without warning.

I was having a nightmare, it was the strangest one I’d had. I was… I guess I was awake. I was on my back looking up at the ceiling. I could not move. The room was dark. My eyes looked around, but my body was paralyzed. I couldn’t even move my head. I couldn’t breathe. My heart was pounding in my ears, and my chest was burning. It was then that I saw the first face hovering over me.

Mr. Lopez pumping and sweating on top of me, then his nasty worm-like penis. I blinked it away and still I could not move.

I tried yelling, screaming, but nothing came out.

Then another face.

It was one of the men from T-money’s, the Mexican one with the long hair. He slapped me and then he punched me because I wouldn’t stay still. I wouldn’t let him open my legs. He kept hitting me in the face until he got my legs open and pants off. I could see the other three holding me down. Each one had a hold of one of my limbs and one held my chest. Once my legs were opened the Mexican 1 climbed on top of me, shoving his penis into my dry vagina. The friction and pain was horrible. He kept going and when he was done he left and then someone else climbed on top of me. They took their turns, each one making sure to hit me at least once whether I complained or not until I blacked out from the pain.

I felt like I was going to die as the faces faded. I still couldn’t breathe. I could feel a tear roll down from my eye as the room began to darken and my eyes started to roll back. My chest was tight, and my stomach ached. Then before it all went black, I shot up straight with the quickness gasping for air.

I knew it couldn’t have been a dream. The tears were still in my eyes.

I looked around gasping for air, and that’s when it hit me.

I looked at the pictures on the wall. I stared at the picture of my mother for what I can only think of as forever. I’d thought I’d grieved, I thought I’d known she was gone… dead. But I hadn’t, I hadn’t grieved for any of them. I didn’t accept it.

The finality hit me.

I’d never see her again, never hear her, never call, and never write. My mind was finally getting it as I looked at G-dub, and then Poppa, and then Free.

The tears were falling when I saw Mr. Lopez who stole my virginity.

I began reliving it all. The deaths, the rapes, the killings. It all hit me. T-money killed my father. Spencer’s potential involvement in the murder of my family and mostly his involvement with my brother’s death.

I got out of bed slowly and walked over to the desk staring at the pictures. There was a little bit of light shining through the window on the door. Tears streaming down my face I sat on the stool. I had not eaten, drank anything, or showered in five days. I was a mess, and I knew I stank. I’d ain’t used the bathroom in two days because I’d taken nothing in. But I didn’t care it didn’t faze me. I grabbed a folder and opened it.

Inside was MaMaw’s obituary. I cried my way through it. I flipped through the folder. It was all about MaMaw. Pictures and our letters. The ones I wrote her. I moved the folder aside and picked up another one.

Dr. Richards put together as many pictures of my family as she could get and what appeared to be every newspaper and internet article on the burning house she could find.

I read and cried knowing the pictures came from Vicky.

The more I read the more I cried, and the better I felt. When I was done with it all I was dry. I could no longer cry, but still I flipped through it all. I stared at pictures being eaten up by their memories. I’d lost and been through too much.

By the time Dr. Richards came, my grief consumed me. I was no longer sad, but bitter.

I’d been robbed, and I felt life owed me something and if not life then someone show ‘nuff did. I thought about and realized Spencer more than likely was the one who set the fire. The one who killed Free; Free who hadn’t been found and I knew was dead, though I had no proof of that or no body. I didn’t put it past him; he authorized my rape.

And they needed to be avenged they needed retribution. They needed to have peace. Their blood cried up to me.

I felt I was able to lay MaMaw to rest because I knew she was… dead.

There, I said it.

Dead.

I was able to lay my little brother, my mom, and grandma to rest because I knew they were all dead. They, too, were dead.

But Free?

For some strange reason that slim hope stayed with me. That slim hope that since his body wasn’t found like AJ’s then he could still be out there.

I needed to know what happened to my family, father included and I knew only one man alive who might have those answers. That was the same man I felt had to pay in order for my family and me to have peace.

I’d decided that all those who hurt me had to pay and I vowed they would, somehow. I swallowed my rage and vowed the men who raped me would pay, and I’d find out what happened to my family. I’d avenge them at all cost.

Spencer had to die. The thought seemed to ease me, and the thought of me doing it did not scare me at all. But before I killed him, I’d make him wish he were dead.

I didn’t even think how I’d do it. I couldn’t picture it, but still Spencer would pay what he owed me, and that’s a family; he owed me a life.

And I guarantee he would feel my pain.

Chapter 14

“Hi, I’m Victoria Lopez, and I was wondering if you were hiring?” she asked the manager at McDonalds. She’d been job hunting after school for a few months. She didn’t feel comfortable getting money from Amekia or her parents, besides she wouldn’t get enough from them.

Vicky was accustomed to a certain lifestyle. She was not rich but well off, and she had everything she asked for.

She knew it was because of her mother’s death that her dad spoiled her and got her anything she wanted.

Somehow, her dad was still doing it although he long since ran out of money from the death of her mother. He began taking out loans and refinancing the house. Vicky had no idea what her father did with all the money because it sure as hell wasn’t spent on her.

She guessed he drank it away.

She began to hate him and could really care less that he was gone.

After all, he didn’t love her; he loved Shi, and she could not forgive him for what he did to them.

Chapter 15

I had to be at the state hospital for at least two years. I took it as a learning experience and I bade my time working out, plotting and bullshitting everyone except Dr. Richards.

My delusional fantasies of revenge was a part of my grieving and healthy, so long as I was not planning on killing any and every one. You know like them white kids? You saw that Columbine shit, that shit was crazy. Those little crazy white bastards killed everyone except the niggas they was mad at.

Dr. Richards knew I wasn’t like that and that I was more prone to being hurt by a fly than actually hurting one. So self-expression was something good. Besides she didn’t know I had a suspect in mind. I couldn’t tell her all my little deep dark secrets. I knew she felt the same way when her daughter was killed.

I’d written Vicky a lot and she’d written me back, and it hurt me when I read her letters. She’d gotten a job at Taco Bell and then soon she got another one at a gas station. Then she quit school to work full time. She said she’d get her G.E.D. later or take the C.H.S.P.E. like I did.

I so wanted to get out and help her, but I had to wait. There was nothing else I could do.

Coping was something I would never learn. But, I did understand I needed to stop stressing off the things outside of me that I could not control.

And so I schemed, plotted and planned. My experience with the legal system got me very interested in law. I began reading the California Penal Code book and researching random laws.

After a year, I was confident enough to defend people in open court. But that was not my goal. I’d planned to cover my ass and use the law to help me. I researched drug laws, proposition 36… I researched murder and the degrees. Robbery and its degrees and pimping.

I read tons of case laws and learned a lot. I understood why people were convicted and the many applications of the law. I understood the various ways the state applied the laws and the various ways one defended itself. I understood why people were convicted and why convictions were overturned. I studied it all. It interested me and I was getting ready for war.

Chapter 16

Francesca Owens stared at the beautiful woman sitting across from her. She was a legend and her beauty mythical. If she’d said she was the reincarnation of the Greek goddess of beauty and love Aphrodite she would not doubt it.

Her jaw was thin and strong, her features well defined. Age seem to agree with her; she only got more beautiful.

Her name was Gwendolyn Barriessa, and the name sent chills down everyone’s spine.

Barry had masters in criminal justice and about a bucket load of other degrees. In a man’s world Barry had something to prove which she was making quick work doing. She was the first woman to hold her title as the Deputy Director of Operations of the Central Intelligence Agency. Nevertheless, it was no accomplishment to her. No, her eyes were on the position above hers, the Director.

LaMarr Tate was in his late sixties and -Barry felt- getting too old for the job. At forty-three, she wasn’t getting any younger. She wanted his job though she just about ran the C.I.A. she felt she only made him look good.

The limo they were riding in exited 101 by way of Woodside Road in Redwood City. They’d flown from Langley into San Francisco International Airport. The limo turned onto Veterans Blvd. Barry broke the silence, which may have been awkward had Owens not been her assistant for the past seven years. “She gets off work in five minutes,” Barry said.

“And ready to go to her other job,” Owens said looking through papers.

Barry nodded, “If I can convince her to help us she won’t need either job.”

“I take it you’ll be approaching her?”

Barry smiled, “If you want something done…”

Owens was always dazzled by her smile because it was not often she graced the world with it.

“I wonder if anyone back at Langley is opposed to sending a woman to do-” Owens looked at Barry who had her eyebrow raised as she interrupted Owens and said, “A woman’s job?”

Owens laughed nervously. Barry did not. It was over they were back to business. Owens enjoyed the rare occasions when her tough-no-bullshit-boss let her hair down and showed a little humanity.

The black Limo pulled into the Taco Bell parking lot at nine o’clock on the dot.

Owens and Barry waited in silence watching the door.

Barry came to the Bay Area to get into the thick of things. She knew it was her fault being as it was her operation. Barry was personally touring every city in the Bay when she happened over her.

The young woman was walking from Redwood City’s Sequoia Station. She was stunning, beautiful; she looked so young and innocent.

Barry followed her to work at Taco Bell and ordered something she’d never eat off the menu. The brain, which got her so far so quickly, was busy at work. After the girl welcomed her to Taco Bell, Barry knew she found what she’d need to fix the mess that was made. Her only other challenge was to make sure the girl was trust worthy so the same thing would not happen again.

Barry did an extensive background check and put agents on the girl 24/7. Barry knew more about the girl than the girl knew about herself. And she was perfect. Though what she needed from her would mean being dishonest, sneaky and manipulative.

Barry knew with what she was offering the girl she would not refuse the proposition she was going to make her. And what Barry needed of her the agency could not teach. She’d have one job, one objective, one mission after which the sky was the limit. Barry knew she would more than likely take the money and run rather than a career. Barry hoped greed wouldn’t be an issue again.

The girl came out of Taco Bell ten minutes after nine.

“Show time,” Owens said as Barry opened her door and stepped out.

She smoothed the wrinkles out of her gray Armani pants suit, which matched her eyes perfectly. Pushing her black horn rimmed glasses up on her nose she raked her hands through her dark red hair and walked to the young woman.

Smiling she said, “Hello.”

The woman gave her a glance and said, “Hi,” and kept walking. Barry blocked her way still smiling. The woman stopped, “Is there something I can do for you?”

Barry gave a musical laugh, which the girl did not join in on. The two women were beautiful. Mature beauty and young beauty.

“Actually, yes,” Barry smiled. “Though that depends on how you look at it because I believe I can do something for you.”

Taking off her glasses for dramatic effect Barry leveled her stone cold gray eyes, which seem to pierce down to one’s soul, at the girl.

Looking her deep in the eyes she said, “But believe me, we’ll both get something from this.”

The girl looked at her cell phone impatiently.

“Don’t worry about work,” Barry said. She turned and pointed at the limo, “I’ll give you a ride if need be.” The girl didn’t look scared, but totally uninterested. “But I believe you won’t need it anymore, Victoria.”

The girl’s eyes got big as she took a step back. “How-”

“Oh, Victoria, you’d be surprised at how much I know about you.” The two women stared at one another in silence. “Why don’t you let me give you a ride while I explain?” Vicky looked left and then right looking fixed to run. “Victoria, if I wanted to hurt you I would have already done so. I just have a job opportunity…” She wasn’t buying it. “Well, let me at least walk you to the bust stop,” Barry capitalized thinking quick, knowing she would not be going to work after she explained herself.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Victoria, said.

Barry moved aside and Victoria began walking. Barry took her place beside her. Once outside Taco Bell’s parking lot Barry handed Victoria her badge.

“Victoria, I am Agent Barriessa, the Deputy Director of Operations of the C.I.A. Your government may need your help…”

Chapter 17

It did not go as planned and my two years turned into three.

Dr. Richards was lobbying for my release of course but my best friend Dr. Felter was just about petitioning and collecting signatures to keep me in.

Each case conference Dr. Felter sat on the panel and she had signatures and recommendations ready. Dr. Richards was my head doctor and the most she could do was give her report and recommendation. She could argue to release me, but she would be out voted. I was a liability since they’d released me and I killed a man. They did not want to be responsible for me killing again.

It was May of 2004. I’d been in three years and was going up for release board. I’d learned to be patient, and I didn’t expect to really be released even with Dr. Richards assuring me that I was going to this time. After all, she’d been telling me for the last two years and nothing’s happened.

I sat in the hallway, and when the door opened, I was shocked and instantly knew something was wrong. Dr. Richards being my head doctor always came out to call me in, but this time it was Dr. Felter like before when she was my head doctor.

I followed Dr. Felter into the room and sat down. I didn’t see Dr. Richards at all, she was M.I.A.

Dr. Felter smiled, “How are you doing, Scheyenne?”

“Okay and yourself?”

Dr. Felter kept her fake smile plastered on her face, “Good… nervous?”

I nodded, “a little.” I was calm and sort of detached. Although I convinced myself I didn’t really care, but I was still feeling a little nervous. I mean this right here was a shot for me to be free again no matter how small a chance of that happening would be. I knew I wasn’t going anywhere, especially without Dr. Richards. Dr. Felter would have them eating out of her hand. She’d bully them into doing what she wanted.

“Scheyenne, I will be taking over your case as head doctor. Dr. Richards took a leave of absence affective this morning.”

“Is she alright?” I asked worried. I’d just seen her yesterday, and she ain’t said nothing to me about no leave of absence.

“Family emergency.”

I nodded, I didn’t know her family per se, and I never met them, though it felt like I knew them. I knew her little boys’ names and her husband’s birthday. Besides, to me she was family.

“Well, shall we get started? Dr. Richie will fill in for me as I fill in for Dr. Richards. Now, Scheyenne, tell-”

The door behind opened, and we all looked.

Standing in the open door looking very professional in a pants suit was Dr. Richards. She strutted in, grabbed a chair, and pulled it up next to me. She sat down crossing her thick legs and then her arms as she settled in.

Dr. Felter, all the other doctors and me were shocked.

“Eb-Dr. Richards? What are you doing here? I was under the impression you were on leave for a family emergency.”

“I am, Jean, and I’m dealing with it as we speak.”

I was shocked to see her, and I couldn’t help but smile. Apparently, I was her family emergency.

“Well, Ebony, if you will wait outside; seeing as you are on leave and not working-”

“Oh that’s okay I’ll just stay right here.”

Dr. Felter shook her head, “Ebony, you must have forgotten that these are strictly confidential, and your presence would be a violation of Doctor/Patient Confidentiality. This is a medical issue and, Ebony, seeing as you are not working you are no longer a doctor on this panel or this case... temporarily that is.”

With a smile, Dr. Richards said, “Exactly. I’m not here as a doctor, Jean. I am here as a median, I am here to make sure Ms. Iverson here understands her rights and the proceedings. I want to make sure she has a fair and impartial hearing…”

“What?”

“According to the Welfare and Institutions Code Ms. Iverson as a committed patient has the right to help in these proceedings-”

“I know what the Institutions Code says.”

“She has not waived her right to assistance yet. Have you, Scheyenne?”

I shook my head.

Sighing as if frustrated and dealing with a little child Dr. Felter said, “Ebony, an employee and doctor on this staff cannot sit in such a position, it’s a conflict of interest. Your opinion could be prejudicial.”

Dr. Richards smiled as she replied smoothly, “Well, Jean, if I am correct as of this morning I am no longer a member of this staff... Temporarily that is. I am on unpaid leave.” Dr. Felter was silent but turning red. She was heated. “Would you like to run this by Dr. Baker first?” Dr. Felter was fuming; you could see the steam rising off her. Before anything else could be said Dr. Richards said, “Scheyenne, please explain to the board what you’ve been up to.” Dr. Richards had a smug smile on her face; she’d gone head to head with Dr. Felter yet again and yet again won.

I happily went through my normal routine of explaining my treatment, relapse prevention, what got me recommitted etc. I answered all the questions perfectly, even the ole off the wall shit Dr. Felter was making up and throwing my way. Regardless, I was on it, she couldn’t spin me up. I was on a roll, a bitch wanted out, and Dr. Richards’s presence seem to make it obtainable.

The hearing moved into two hours with Dr. Richards there on my side making sure I was not railroaded and was able to speak and explain myself as much as I wanted.

When it seemed all the questions were answered Dr. Felter said, “I believe we’ve heard enough. The board and I believe you’ve come a long way Scheyenne and-”

“And this hearing is not over yet Jean,” Dr. Richards said calmly. “I believe Ms. Iverson has a right to have people speak on her behalf. I think they’re called character witnesses.”

Dr. Felter was silent, but you could see the darts flying straight out of her eyes. I looked at Dr. Richards; I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Are there such people?” Dr. Felter spat rather than asked.

Dr. Richards smiled, stood up and walked to the door. I sat still waiting to see what was going on.

Dr. Richards opened the door and leaned out, within seconds I saw Myrtle. I was lost as she sat down in the chair Dr. Richards once occupied right next to me.

“Hi, Shi,” she smiled.

“Hey?”

“This is a life commit, I believe you all know Ms. Randell,” Dr. Richards said. “Ms. Randell, tell us what you know about, Scheyenne.”

For the first time since I met Myrtle three years ago, she spoke and made perfect sense. She told them about how she met a little girl who was mad at the world and how I grew and changed in front of her eyes. How I helped her and kept her company when no one else was there or would. She explained that I didn’t have to, but I became her friend, and like the daughter, she never had. I was so f’in touched.

The next person was the housing lady who controlled room arrangements: Mrs. Taylor.

A whole string of staff came through speaking on my behalf; even Dr. Z was there for me.

I was freakin’ touched.

I hadn’t realized anything I did helped anyone, and if it did, I didn’t know or think that they’d feel the way they felt. I mean I was just being me not trying to be nice or helpful...

The hearing was moving into four hours when Dr. Richards said, “That was just staff. I have a few people who know Scheyenne outside of here who can tell you more about Scheyenne.”

I was wondering who she was talking about. The door opened, and someone came in and sat next to me. I only saw the person out the corner of my eye, and I thought it was Dr. Richards at first. But when I turned, my eyes grew, and my mouth dropped.

“Hey, Shi,” Amekia said.

I smiled at how much she’d changed. She looked like a woman.

“Ms. Sims, can you tell us something we don’t know about Scheyenne?”

Amekia went on a long-winded monologue. She was stopped periodically and asked questions. She answered kindly, hell sweetly. She was a friend of mine who considered me her best friend and the reason she made it through high school. She explained her issues with self-esteem and how I made her feel just as beautiful as all the skinny girls in heels and makeup. Amekia’s infectious laugh left the room light. The only tension was from the fuming Dr. Felter.

I was excited to see my friend and turned to see who was next.

My heart stopped. A light-skinned man in a button up and jeans came in. His shadow fade looked freshly done, and his green eyes were almost glowing. King sat down and was introduced as my boyfriend. And this nigga made me sound like Mother Teresa, and he wished his Ma-Maw were able to be there to tell them what I did for her. He explained for her though and ended with me getting my High School diploma early with dedication and determination. King was excused, and I turned to see who was next trying not to lapse into deep thought about him and what used to be us.

A light-skinned woman with long dark hair and highlights walked in. She was around my height and I’d grown in the past three years. Her makeup was flawless, and her body was banging, I had to give her that. Seeing her took me back to when I’d met B.I.T.C.H. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen her before for the life of me. She sat next to me and her perfume made her presence known. She had on a pants suit like Dr. Richards with black sandal heels. Her manicured toes matched her manicured hands.

Everyone was silent.

“And who are you?” Dr. Felter asked not bothering to be polite or hide attitude.

When the woman opened her mouth to answer, I knew who she was. I turned to stare at her. She’d changed, and I was ashamed I hadn’t remembered her.

“I am Shi’s best friend, Victoria Lopez.”

You could hear a mouse pissing on cotton it was so damn quiet in the room as the doctors stared opened mouthed at the woman whose father I’d killed.

Chapter 18

I was not released then.

Because of the length of the hearing, the board needed time to deliberate. Though Dr. Felter would have been happy to deny me right then and there.

I got to visit with Amekia, King, and Vicky for a few hours after my hearing. When they left I felt a strong yearning to be with them. Especially Vicky. I had not seen her for a little over a year, and by looking at her a year was a very long time. She said she was working two jobs and had a place in East Palo Alto.

Amekia was still in school for psychology and worked at the V.A. where my mom use to work. She still lived at home.

King had moved to Modesto after Ma-Maw died and had a legal job, a girlfriend, and a baby girl. I was not worried or surprised. We hadn’t spoken in years, and I’d let him go. I had to since my mind was on other things and I wouldn’t be able to love him right. I loved the man, though. That’s why I let him go.

Being raped did not turn me into no dike at all, but it did make me grossed out by men.

After our visit, my friends returned to their lives, and I returned to mine, and we promised to keep in touch.

Dr. Richards was back at work the very next day, ready to take over as my doctor again. I’d guessed I was not getting released because a week passed and I was still there.

Dr. Richards said all she could do was listen, not make an opinion or vote seeing as she was not present as a doctor at the hearing. All she told me was they were still considering it and to keep up hope and to pray. She said she was working on it.

I was in my room writing Vicky a letter about what was going on when Dr. Richards knocked on the door and walked in.

“Wha’chu doing?” she asked closing the door and walking to me.

“Writing Vicky,” I said as she sat down on the bed.

“Wouldn’t you rather tell her in person?”

I shrugged and then looked at her. My heart was pounding, “She’s here?”

Dr. Richards laughed shaking her head. “No, but I told you I’d get you out of here. I’m just sorry it took so long.” I wasn’t processing it. “Shi, you can start packing, you’ve just been granted outpatient status.”

I looked at her, and then we both screamed together. I didn’t know what to do or how to act. I guess I was institutionalized because I was sort of scared to leave. But then I began to quickly realize it was now time to put my plan in motion. It was finally time.

After Dr. Richards and I talked for about an hour about where I was going to live when I got released and how I would get there. I was released after that. Dr. Richards had me sign some papers and then gave me five hundred dollars of her own money and took me to the Grey Hound Station. I lied and said I wanted to just ride, and think, and see the sights. I said I wanted to surprise Vicky, I told her that’s where I was going to live.

But I had no idea where I was going to live. I mean for what I was planning I couldn’t live with Vicky. I could put her in danger, and I didn’t want her all up in mine. The thing was I had to be released somewhere so, hell, it was to Vicky’s.

At the Grey Hound Station with a small duffel bag full of all my paperwork and some clothes, I hugged Dr. Richards and said, “Goodbye,” and promised to call as soon as I got to Vicky’s.

I hopped on the bus in Bakersfield and pulled out my papers. I was seated in the back next to the bathroom.

As the bus started, I began thinking of my next move.

I had a lot of work to do.

Part 3:…so I hustle

Chapter 19

I got to the San Jose Grey Hound Station at eleven. I grabbed my bags and went to the waiting area. I needed somewhere to sleep though I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

After a while I found my way to Santa Clara Street. I started down it and was surprised to see there was a bus running. I stood at the stop for the 22 which was on its way to Palo Alto. I climbed on the bus and dropped my dollar fifty in and soon realized that the bus was packed with sleeping people.

I could tell they all were homeless.

With little effort I blended right in after finding myself a seat and surprisingly I went right to sleep.

A bitch was trying to get into grimy mode, trying to get into Shiesty Shi mode.

The next day after a very rough and restless night I set out on a journey. I found a Metro PCS store in Mountain View off El Camino and bought me a simple Nokia under the name Shiesty Shi.

Next I went to a Capri Motel on El Camino in Redwood City and paid two fifty for a week. The room looked dirty but…well, two fifty.

My car had been impounded a long time ago. It was evidence at first and then who knows. I had to start over, I was starting over. Once the room was paid for, and I was somewhat settled I went across the street to Target to buy some hygiene, underwear, and clothes.

I called Dr. Richards at the hospital. I apologized for not calling earlier, but I was tired after my long bus ride I explained. She understood and was okay with it, she was just happy to hear from me.

My mission was to make a name for myself and then get it out there. I spent the night in San Francisco looking for information. I needed weed, so I could make some money and with T-money dead I had no idea where to cop it. I saw several prostitutes; most were not women though they looked the part.

I was approached on my second night out looking for weed. I needed more than a dime and people did not like sharing information. I guess they were so secretive because I could have been a cop. Anyways, on my second night out I was approached by a prostitute named Diamond. He was light skinned with a big ass and small breasts – if you can call them that – which was a result of paper. Diamond had a large chin, and I was amazed that the nigga wanted to be a woman and thought he could pass for one.

“I don’t mean to be all up in yo’ business girl, but if you trying to make some money, you gotta do a better job than that.” His voice was cigarette burned, and raspy.

“Scuse me?” I asked with an attitude.

I was dressed in a large puff coat, some cargo pants and Reebok's. I looked like a straight nigga.

“If you want the boys to notice you, you need something else. Show some skin, yeah its cold, but so what? Money talks…”

I looked at him. He thought I was a fucking prostitute.

“I’m Shi,” I said formulating a plan.

I needed some money and was thinking of how to get it.

“Diamond,” he smiled. He was in a short skirt with fishnets, a tight shirt and some heels. His makeup was nice, I guess if you ignored the razor bumps.

“Let me ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“How much money do you usually make?” I asked genuinely curious.

He shrugged, “Depends. I usually get five hundred on slow nights.

I nodded knowing the nigga was lying. But I was curious. I wanted to know what type of weirdoes picked up transsexual prostitutes and what type of weirdo you were to be a transsexual prostitute. I mean I didn’t have much experience with homos, but I thought a homo liked niggas hints being a homo.

“I don’t fuck half the niggas and hell most of the time I get my dick sucked.”

I don’t know why it was so strange hearing him say he had a dick, I mean sure the nigga had a dick but…I don’t know.

“Guys actually want to pick up transsexuals?” I was trying to hide my shock.

Diamond laughed, “Baby they love us. We get more business than actual fish. Half these bitches on the track come equipped with a dick.”

I had no idea, and my mind was racing. Total shock.

“Do you guys have pimps?”

“Some, but not many. We usually regulate ourselves. I mean what the hell I look like given a nigga all my hard earned?”

I nodded. I figured as much. I’d learned most females usually had pimps for a variety of reasons. Mostly for protection.

“You ever get arrested?”

“Girl, you don’t know. Like every other week. Shit, I’m just waiting for my parole officer to find me and send me back up state.” And the nigga was on parole.

I wanted to ask what made him want to be a woman, and I hella wanted to know how he looked as a guy. But, I let it go.

“So at least five hundred and arrested often. Is it worth it?”

“Easy money, but ain’t no amount worth going to jail, but it’s a risk we willing to take. We gotta survive.”

“What if I told you I could make you double and if you’re ever arrested again you’ll never get convicted.” Diamond lifted an arched eyebrow. “But I must ask you,” I said thinking of T-money for some reason. “Is this a means or a way?”

Chapter 20

First, we needed money for our operation, so Diamond hit the track hard. I explained I was not a prostitute nor a pimp, but I knew about prostitution. I told him I helped women become legal prostitutes which are called escorts.

I told Diamond sex between two consenting adults was not illegal. Neither was receiving money for spending the evening with a person. The sex needed to be pleasure, not business. The money needed to be accepted up front for his services. The next thing was he could be tipped if the person liked him. Tipped not for sex but for his time. It was all in the wording.

It took Diamond three days to make a thousand dollars. With it we bought a laptop and paid for another week in my room which we were sharing. After that Diamond set out to put together a crew.

We had a camera thanks to Diamond’s sticky fingers.

I soon found out transsexuals had issues with the word him and he. So I adjusted and started calling Diamond she. I mean he/she technically looked like a girl, I guess…in a way.

Diamond was a popular tranny and knew everyone. Diamond also had a mouth piece; I knew that because she sold everyone she spoke to on the idea of doubling their income by basically trusting my word.

In a week we had nine interested, well, we had ten but had to turn one down. I looked over the six transsexuals and four women. They were all either black or Mexican or mixed. All except one. She called herself Snow. She was a white girl with blond hair and blue eyes. She was very pretty.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Snow, as in snow bunny,” she said.

“As in white, or white girl?” I asked looking her over.

“Yeah, I’m white.”

“Just plain white, no mix?” I asked.

She shook her head and said, “German.”

“I’m sorry but that ain’t gonna work.”

“Because I’m white?” she asked.

I nodded, “Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse saying something under her breath. She left slamming the door behind her.

“Shi, Snow’s cool peoples and she pull her own. We could use her,” Diamond said. I shook my head. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“You ever hear of the white slave trade?” Diamond looked lost and so did the other girls listening in. “It’s basically what white people did to us. It’s selling white people for a profit, and it extends to pimping which this could be considered. A white slave trade conviction could get you a life sentence.”

Diamond nodded and didn't question me anymore. She knew I knew what I was doing.

We took down names and told the group to be in their best and sexiest outfits because we needed pictures. I had big, very big plans for these girls, or…for them.

I’d been surfing the Internet a lot in the state hospital. I’d learned about a few sites that let you advertise everything.

Before we got started with the pictures I laid the ground work.

“Okay, look, first off. I am not a pimp.

“I’m in this for the money like you…I am sure most of you know you don’t need me to make money. And to clear the record, I am not yo’ pimp.

“I am your business associate. I am here to help market and advertise you, I am here to help you manage your money and get to where you trying to go and keep y’all asses out of jail in the process…I repeat, I am not a pimp.

“I am a manager, a guidance counselor, here to guide you into the art I like to call law fucking. You will become legal prostitutes, in a way, codenamed Escorts. I am not yo’ pimp…

“One reason is because you are not prostitutes. Now before we get started I need to know how many of you are prostituting as a means versus a way…”

“What?”

I smiled at Monique, a beautiful transsexual with large breasts. Fooled me.

“Do you know what the difference between doing something as a means versus doing something as a way?” No one said anything. “How many of you want to be prostitutes for the rest of your lives? Make a career out of it?” No one said anything. “Then it is not “the” way. How many of you are doing this until they are able to get something or meet a goal like paying for school or paying your debts?

“Tish, what do you want to do with your life?” I asked a Mexican girl with a small frame.

“I want to be a translator.”

I nodded. “Good, you have a goal. Now, I am here to see that you meet that goal, to help you get into school, to work and make money and then quit and be a translator.”

I had to act like I was there to help.

“My goal is to get you all working and moved into a place, so there will be no more motel hopping. Now, if you are here as a means to get something you want…welcome. But if this is your way of life and your only way to get what you need and want no hard feeling but do it movin’.”

No one left. I saw a smile on Diamond's face as she listened to me. She was rubbing off on me. I was learning how to convince people of bullshit.

After we took pictures of everyone I had Diamond go and get me a prepaid credit card with three-hundred dollars on it. Each girl pitched in fifty bucks. The only place I knew to get on the internet was the library. However, I saw a few places advertising Wi-Fi. I tried not to think about how out of place I felt in the world after four years of being locked away. I got back into the swing of things quick. Wi-Fi helped; I went to a Starbucks and started with a site called men4rentnow.com. I put the trannies on there; their rates were two fifty an hour. I wrote what I hoped were good, sexy, seductive profiles and paid for them. Next, I went to my myredbook.com and put everyone up on there in there respected places and paid for the ads. Next came backpage.com and then craigslist.com where I posted profiles under erotic encounters.

It took me over two hours to get all that done because I had to open email accounts and then decided whether or not to give my number and then I had to learn how to add pictures to the sites. But when you’re trying to make money you’re on a mission you make due real quick.

I’d packed the computer up and was on my way back to the room when my phone began ringing.

We were in business.

Chapter 21

I answered the phone, “Simply Shi’s, this is Shiesty Shi, how may I help you?”

Some guys asked questions, and some apologized and swore they were calling a friend and dialed the wrong number. I quickly explained that Simply Shi’s was an escorting service, and the Shi Girls and their services were discreet and perfectly legal. I also explained that the Shi Girls were not prostitutes, however, were adults, grown women who if they so wished could engage in any activities they wanted while out on a date.

I explained the way it worked and how they would have to pay the girl up front for their time and how they could set up another date if they wanted to. I only lost two people. One guy said he’d call later and another just hung up.

By the time I got off the bus in Redwood City and was back at the room the girls were booked for the week. I’d had to change some dates around because a guy would be desperate and need a certain time. They were charged more.

I took half off the top of what the girls earned. Twenty five percent went to me, and the other half was for food and other expenses though they did not know how much my cut was; so I’d get a little more here and there.

Within two weeks a bitch was a thousand-air. I bought me a used little ’90 Mitsubishi Gallant. It was mostly used to transport some girls for house calls, which cost more and opened up a new market for out calls. I was happy and the girls were happy; we were all getting paid.

I was amazed at how many guys were interested in trannies and the tales they told me about their dates. By the end of the month we were going apartment hunting. There was a new complex opening in East Palo Alto called Court Yard at Bay Road.

We got a four bedroom thanks to Diamond’s knowledge of making fake pay stubs. I had my own room in our four bed room apartment. The girls shared the others. We got the Comcast cable, phone, and internet bundle. We all pitched in and decorated our apartment and Diamond got a nice car from a man who was just short of in love.

The things the girls got were amazing. Shopping sprees were normal. Tammy, a transsexual, had one dude buying us groceries. We were living it up and making a lot of money in the process. But it was a means and I was almost where I needed to be.

I’d spent the majority of my birthday alone and came home around nine. I was just driving around looking and taking in the new sights. East Palo Alto had changed a lot with the Ikea, the mall and hotel.

When I got home and opened the door all the girls were there and yelled, “Surprise!” The place was decorated with balloons and banners saying, ‘Happy Birthday,’ and I saw a cake. I had a talk with Dr. Richards who wished me a happy birthday and whom I lied to and told that I was going to the movies with Vicky, Amekia, and King.

All the girls took the night off to celebrate my birthday with me. I was given a birthday tiara and gifts from everyone. Diamond handed me a champagne glass. “Cider,” she said and I almost cried. They knew me so well. I’d only known them for a few months and looking at all of them made me start to miss my family.

We drank cider, watched movies and talked it up for the rest of the night and into the morning.

At two everyone was tired and after a kiss, hug, and one more birthday wish was going to bed.

Diamond was the last to go to bed, and I had a question.

“Diamond, where would I get weed?”

She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I knew she knew where to buy weed because I smelled it a few times on the girls and Diamond knew everything. I was sure they were doing more than smoking weed, too, but it was really none of my business so long as it didn’t interfere with their work. I mean they still made their money, and it wasn’t a condition of being a Shi Girl.

But now I was ready for the next phase of my plan, and I needed weed.

“I gotta guy. How much you need?”

Diamond knew I didn’t smoke, but she didn’t question why I was interested in it though I knew her nosey ass wanted to.

I smiled and shrugged like it was no biggy and said, “A few pounds.”

Chapter 22

Spin was the big name now, like T-money had once been. But unlike T-money’s name it was not spoken often. It took two weeks to fill my order, and I sent Diamond to pay for it and pick it up.

She did a lot of fast talking and had her guy thinking it was for a rich white man she was dating. She told them that he was throwing a large sex party.

“You wanna come?” Diamond asked to shut him up.

Diamond said she had to screen a lot of questions and make up a lot of bullshit to keep the heat off. She didn’t know that I wanted the heat but then again I guess it wasn’t time for that, so it was a good think she did what she had to do to keep the heat off. Five pounds of weed was a lot and bound to create questions and get to the higher ups. And that’s what I wanted; that’s why I had Diamond drop the name Shiesty Shi a few times in her stories. No, not to bust me out but to give them something to think about. And she made my name like Spin’s, as if it was spoken by accident and by speaking it I’d pop up like Candy Man and kill someone.

She told me she said things like Shiesty Shi’s paying for this…Shiesty Shi been looking for weed and I heard Shiesty Shi’s back.

‘Who’s Shiesty Shi?’

‘You know Shiesty Shi…’

‘Where she back from?’

There was a shrug…hopefully they thought I was back from prison.

I got the weed from Diamond and it nearly wiped out all my funds. I rented a public storage and put the weed away. I had something that needed to be done before Shiesty Shi made her public debut. I needed a new look, I needed to become Shiesty Shi. Over the few months I’d been out I stressed and thought often of who Shiesty Shi was and what Shiesty Shi would look like.

And what I came up with was the total opposite of me.

I already had the mind set and now it was time to look the part. I knew the girls were good at makeup, hair, nails, and stuff and I was sure they were capable of a makeover. Diamond had even offered and been putting little ideas in my head. But I had someone else in mind for the job. Someone I knew could make me beautiful, a piece. Someone I knew could flip a bitch and satisfaction was guaranteed.

I just didn’t know how I’d contact them for the life of me.

There was only one way I knew just might get me in contact with them and it would require some luck and patience.

So, I told Diamond to take off from her dates and gave her the first phone I’d bought which had become our business phone. I told her to keep setting up dates and keep the girls working. She had become my part-time assistant so she didn’t need a lot of instructions. She was also a hustla so she’d get the money.

I reminded her of the rules and the law and then I jumped into my car and headed for Modesto. I had no idea how long it would take me, but I was determined to find the little farm-style house on the country road.

Chapter 23

The question was what did they want done?

Taking Spencer out could have been done easily. Did they want to take over the game?

Janell didn’t. She could care less about the game and what happened to it. It didn’t matter anyway; someone would always step up and be there.

There would never be another T-money though.

Janell didn’t think Spencer deserved to live; none of them did, especially after Janell told them the unedited version of what happened between T-money and J.B. However, they were all adults and not only did they want Spencer to suffer but get his. Death would be too easy. There was other ways to take a man’s life.

“Let the state kill him,” Silva suggested.

“Hell naw, that’s not good enough,” Charika said.

“It’ll be after twenty something years on death row,” Silva shot back.

“It would be giving him a break,” Tamekia said.

“You might as well let us kill him,” Charika said.

“What I can do to him in five minutes will make twenty years on death row look like a cake walk,” Helen said without looking at anyone.

“Your hands don’t need to be dirty,” Lavoy said.

“Yeah, but I’m thinking a life sentence would be perfect for our boy,” Tavonte added coolly.

“I’m sure you are able to make his stay very unpleasant,” Janell said to Tavonte.

He smiled, “We pick up a lot of state cases and every federal prison ain’t Disney Land. Especially if we can get him to P.C. up.”

“Can you?” Silva asked.

“We have ways,” Tavonte smiled.

“So are we shooting for a life sentence?” Lavoy asked.

“We’d have to connect him to murder and drug trafficking.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Jeremy asked still noticeably nervous.

“That’s why we’re here,” Brittany said. “We take him down from the inside out.”

“Do you have a plan?” Mickal asked.

“A loose one, but I’ll need access to money Mickal.”

Mickal nodded at Janell, “Anything, T-money has lots of it. Hell most of it is buried so deep I can’t find it and I’m the one who dug the hole.”

“And law enforcement when we’re ready.”

“Well that’s why D.E.A. and F.B.I. is here, with the drugs involved and all. Why exactly am I here? Did you not know which agency to pick and called us all?” Jeremy said rudely.

“The D.E.A. works hand and hand with the F.B.I, all your investigations lead to federal prison,” Janell said knowing the C.I.A. was the odd man out in the government and liked it that way.

“Then why is the C.I.A. here?” Jeremy asked not hiding his impatience.

Janell smiled, “Oh, I have a reason and it’s a very minor role yet the most important. Something you can do at a level not even the F.B.I. can undue.”

Everyone was staring at Jeremy looking very uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry Mr. United States Spy we’ve been trained by one of your own,” Brittany said. “With the help of The D.E.A. and F.B.I. we’ll cover your ass.”

Janell loved B.I.T.C.H. and silently thanked T-money for them. She hadn’t even formulated a plan, yet they backed her as if she discussed one with them.

Janell went around the room trying to figure out what type of evidence they needed and how they could legally obtain it. She also led the discussion on charges they were trying to get evidence for. She laughed when at the very end of the list Tavonte said, “Oh and I almost forgot, mail tampering.” He smiled and shrugged, “Everyone indicted by the F.B.I. usually has a mail tampering charge.”

Janell looked around and asked, “When can we meet again?”

“Probably not a good idea if we’re setting a man up for a life stay in prison,” Jeremy said standing up.

“It’s an investigation,” I’esha said.

“I’m positive the D.E.A. and F.B.I. are the same in regards of civilian involvement in investigations especially without approval from the powers that be… I also take it this investigation will not be mentioned in F.B.I. or D.E.A. headquarters, at least not for some time that is.”

Lavoy sighed, “It's off the record until we have enough probable cause to really investigate Jeremy.”

“Then there’s the problem of introducing the case and how we caught wind of it,” Tavonte said.

Jeremy smiled smugly with an I-told-you-so look on his face.

“But that can be taken care of by an informant,” Lavoy said making Jeremy’s nostrils flare.

Everyone nodded.

“We need to have him in place,” Lavoy said thinking of planting the informant inside of Spencer’s organization.

“Her,” Tamekia corrected. “We’ll need her in place.”

Janell knew B.I.T.C.H. would be the ones to infiltrate Spencer’s little operation if that was in fact going to be the plan.

“Look, I’m down just send me the estimate and I’ll get you the money,” Mickal said. “The bank hasn’t caught wind of T-money’s death yet and I’ve been keeping regular activity on the accounts.”

“How do we communicate?” Janell asked.

“You can call F.B.I. headquarters, our lines are secure,” Tavonte said.

“Ours too,” Lavoy said.

Everyone preferred a simple phone call where not a lot was said. After, they’d find a way to meet again.

“This is my last time showing my face,” Jeremy said.

“I’ll get word to you and when I do please be ready and have what you need from me…and please make sure you follow instructions.”

Janell nodded.

Over the last three and a half years she worked closely with B.I.T.C.H. watching Spencer, formulating plans, and gathering bits and pieces of the information they’d need.

The plan was simple; however every single detail was scrutinized.

And now it was time. B.I.T.C.H. was ready to go in. They were all ready.

Janell received a letter from a Bobby Jim from Arizona that day. He asked her to call a number at ten o’clock p.m. on the dot. Janell was waiting to call. She had already spoken with B.I.T.C.H., Mickal, Silva, Lavoy, and Tavonte and told them it was time.

They were waiting on Jeremy and she was positive he and Bobby Jim were one and the same. She looked at the list of names she’d need identities for, identifications, backgrounds, and histories the likes only the C.I.A. could create. And that is what she needed Jeremy for, to create people, real people from ages twenty to thirty. She also needed B.I.T.C.H.’s fingerprints gone out of any and every files and system they were in… if they were in any.

She had everything she need written down and at nine fifty-nine she began dialing Bobby Jim’s number.

Chapter 24

Spin City, that’s what he referred to his palace as. The large mansion could easily be confused for a castle. The construction was just under thirteen million. Spin paid four million upfront and once complete Spin was given a month to make a final payment of eight million dollars. The money never made it; neither did the construction crew.

“I hate being in debt,” Spin told K.C. as he D-loc and Rod sat in his new fortress. “Go settle the account for me and make sure there’s no hard feelings. I don’t want to have to be watchin’ my back,” he said the day after his home was completely decorated. That was the same day Spin made his public debut two years ago and began distributing the drugs he’d stolen from T-money.

“Who T-money was getting his shit from?” Spin said in his office behind his desk.

“He grew his own weed and brought it in from Mexico and Africa,” Rod said and K.C. nodded, “Everything else was bought mostly from the Colombians and occasionally the Jamaicans and the Mexicans.”

“He was spontaneous and got from who he wanted to when he wanted to. Kept the competition going and prices fare if not low,” K.C. said. Spin nodded.

“A way to keep them honest,” Spin said not revealing whether he had a way of getting drugs or not. They’d been buying from the Colombians, Spin doubted T-money paid them what they were charging him, but it was all good because he had connections. Things would get better.

The only thing which made up for the price increase was the fact that street value was almost double since the drought. Spin had the right contacts, though the pricing might not have been fair; he had no control over that. He wanted more money because money was power. That was how T-money stayed on top so long.

Spin had his crew and word was out that there was a new King Pin, a new King of the Bay.

Spin already had the name made for himself. He was the nigga that killed T-money, something no one else thought possible and no one else had the balls to do. They were scared of the repercussions and what would happen to them and their families after the fact. T-money was not to be fucked with...but Spin was the man, the nigga that brought T-money down after thirteen years.

Spin was not to be fucked with and with just about three years on top he was just about untouchable.

Chapter 25

Brittany had the girls rounded up in the Hummer 2. They were going to Modesto; to the little house off the dirt road T-money bought for them so they could train and stash their things. It was also their little quiet place, their getaway, their sanctuary. ‘Command Central,’ Charika called it.

It was where they went to plot and plan and prepare for missions. And that was where they were headed. They were going to fine tune their plan and make sure they had the who’s, what’s, when’s and where’s down.

Everyone had a part and a lot of emotions invested into their plan. They all were very dedicated and highly emotional which in the case of females was not a good thing, and in the case of B.I.T.C.H. even worse.

All of them were prepared, capable, and wanting to put one in Spencer’s head but they couldn’t. That was not the plan. They were supposed to infiltrate his organization and gather evidence.

A woman was every man’s weakness and that was why they’d been so successful. Seduction and underestimation was how they kept the element of surprise.

Not only did they need to discuss who would have the honor of seducing Spencer but they needed to make sure she would not kill him in his sleep or the first chance she got. It was an undercover operation in which one of them would possibly have to sleep with him.

They’d be going undercover for an undetermined amount of time, which was new to them. Their longest undercover operation was a little less than twenty-four hours. At that time they only needed to get close to a Columbian mob boss who tried to get over on T-money. Brittany acted like a dumb stripper who was invited to give a private party. She invited her other stripper friends to entertain forty heavily armed men. After slicing the targets neck, she and the girls shot their way out. Surprisingly none of them were hurt. Though they could have eliminated the risk by Brittany taking him into another room for privacy having the odds stacked was more fun.

Brittany parked the Hummer 2 on the side of the house where she always parked. She was surprised to see a white car already there.

“Looks like we have company,” Tamekia said leaning into the front seat.

“Did anyone invite a white car?” Charika asked from the passenger seat.

No one answered.

Sighing Brittany opened her door and got out pulling a nine-millimeter from under the seat. She cocked it and then slammed her door.

The rest of the girls got out fully armed.

I’esha went to check the car while Brittany, Charika, and Tamekia silently went for the back door.

* * *

Helen pulled a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun from the trunk and rested it over her shoulder as she walked to the front door. She opened the door and looked around the living room.

“I feel bad for whoever decided to break into this house,” she mumbled spotting a jacket on the sofa.

As the other’s covered and checked the down stairs Helen preceded up the stairs nonchalantly. She acted like she had not a care in the world.

I wonder if they have a gun, she thought hoping for some action.

She didn’t want to just shoot them; she wanted a battle.

Though she did not show it T-money’s death was killing her. He was the only person to show her love when her parents would leave her alone for months on end with no food. It was T-money who found her wandering the streets of Campbell alone looking for food and love. It was T-money who gave her both, took her shopping, and made sure someone took her to school and was there when she got back. He made sure she had everything she needed. Someone was there with her until her parents decided to come back. And it was T-money who got rid of the bodies after she killed them.

Helen felt T-money understood her though she didn’t understand herself.

Helen looked in the open rooms as she passed. When she got to the one at the end of the hall, she held the shotgun up, ready to blast. She opened the door slowly and saw the lump sleeping in the bed.

Helen rolled her eyes and walked quietly to the bed. Jamming the gun in the lump she said, “This is so not your lucky day, the big bad bears are home Goldie Locks.”

There was no response.

“Helen!” she heard Brittany call.

“I’m in here,” she answered without taking her eyes off the lump.

“Helen? Helen!” the lump said.

Helen was surprised it was a female.

The girls came into the room weapons in hand and ready.

“Helen,” the lump called again.

“How do you know her name?” Brittany asked.

“Because you just called me,” Helen answered for the lump.

“No! It’s me! You’re Brittany, I’esha, Tamekia, Charika, and Helen… B.I.T.C.H. It’s me…”

“Me who?” Charika asked lifting an eyebrow gun still pointed.

“Shi…”

* * *

There was silence. Brittany moved Helen and aimed her gun. “Roll over slowly,” she instructed. “Don’t try nothing, you got five guns on you.”

Brittany was holding her breath. She had not known what happened to Shi, all she knew was that she was in the house with T-money. She was part of his crew, the crew that was dead. She hadn’t asked Janell and doubted Shi was alive since Janell didn’t mention any current news on her.

Brittany hadn’t really thought much about her until Janell told them about T-money and old J.B.

The lump turned over slowly, and Brittany’s heart stopped as she looked into Shi’s brown eyes.

Chapter 26

Other than almost having my back blown through my stomach I was happy to see them.

When she saw me, Brittany dropped her gun, and I could have sworn I saw tears in her eyes. Charika jumped on the bed and hugged me so tight I almost shit on myself. They were just as happy to see me; I even saw Helen smile.

They all sat their weapons down and jumped in the bed with me except for Helen who leaned against the wall still holding her shotgun.

“Where the hell? Shi, what happened to you?” Charika asked.

“We thought you were…dead,” I’esha added.

“T-money’s dead and the house burned down," Tamekia said shaking her head as she stared at me unbelievingly.

They were really surprised to see me, and I guess talking themselves into believing I was real. I mean they thought I’d died. Wow!

I smiled and said, “You must not read the papers.” They stared at me silently. “I went to the State Hospital for murder.”

I had confused faces looking at me.

“Really?” Helen said sticking the shotgun in the front of her pants and squeezing her way onto the bed.

“Well, I didn’t do it-,” I said.

“I know, we’re all innocent,” Helen smiled.

“-my best friend Vicky killed him, her dad, she called-”

“How?”

I looked at Helen. Her eyes were wide with wonder and glazing over.

“A knife. I was-”

“How?” she asked again smiling wider.

“Stabbed him. She called me-”

“How many times?”

“Helen, really? Let the girl talk,” Brittany said mugging Helen.

“Over fifty times, lots of blood everywhere. After he was dead she kept stabbing him,” I said to satisfy Helen’s morbid curiosity. She squealed with delight and smiled.

I told them what happened that night at T-money’s; I left out the part when I found out that T-money killed my father. I mean after all they were “his girls.” I needed their help, not to be killed for bad mouthing T-money. I told them about the rape, and I saw the changes in their faces and attitude. I told them about Vicky and what happened with her dad and the murder; I even told them about him raping me.

“I took the rap and with the help of a doctor I met in the State Hospital the first time I got committed, got out of murder. I was supposed to be out a year in a half ago but this dumb bitch Dr. Felter had me stay, and I’d still be there if-”

“You want me to pay her a visit?”

“No, Helen, its coo’ thank you. But I’m home now,” I smiled.

“Wow!” I’esha said, and they exchanged looks, which made me feel like I wasn’t being told something. I felt left out. But that was okay because it didn’t make me feel so bad for keeping my plans and real motives to myself. I’d only tell them what I needed to in order to get them to help me.

“Don’t think we ain’t happy to see you and all girl but…whachu want?” I’esha asked.

I smiled.

“Money?” Charika asked. I shook my head, and she said, “Oh good because I don’t do loans, bitch.”

I laughed.

“Crack?” Tamekia said. “Oh, girl, don’t tell me you on the shit."

I laughed even harder, “Y’all crazy.”

“For real, Shi, what’s up?” Brittany asked seriously. “I know you ain’t just here to kick it.”

“Well,” I said deciding not to bullshit them when they were being so blunt. I didn’t really know how to ask them for what I wanted. But I tried, “I need to…look…pretty? You know, I need a makeover, so I’m beautiful.”

“Oh, girl, um…but you…you are prett…beauti…ful? I mean look at you, you…” Charika said searching for the compliment bless her heart and no one was helping her.

“Don’t lie to me, I look like a grimy ass pretty nigga,” I said rolling my eyes.

Everyone sighed, and Brittany said, “Oh good, I thought I’d have to break it to you.”

I smiled, “No really. I ain’t saying I’m ugly. I just need to look like y’all and maybe brush up on a little training.” I said the training part fast, but Brittany caught it. She lifted an eyebrow and squinted at me as if trying to read my mind.

“Trying to impress someone?” Charika asked with a smile.

“Something like that. I might have a little competition so yeah, I came to you guys, the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.

“I know with y’all help can’t nah bitch compete with me.”

Tamekia laughed, “Girl… keep going.”

“See that’s why I love her,” Charika said.

“How old are you now?” I’esha asked.

“Turned twenty last week.”

Their eyes got big.

“Damn, girl, you all grown up,” Charika said.

“Now that you done pumpin’ a bitches head up do you mind telling us why you want more training?”

I shrugged, “I’m rusty.” Brittany wasn’t buying it. “How long?” I asked before anyone could question it. They had to help me; I wasn’t giving them no chances to say no.

Tamekia touched my cornrows making a face and I’esha touched my face while Charika looked at my attire.

“I’ma say the fastest a week. I mean girl you got potential, but you ain’t helping none,” Charika said.

“I need to learn how to be a girl again,” I said realizing I had not been one since elementary school. “I don’t even know how to walk in heels, I don’t know no designers…I don’t even own a dress.”

Charika screamed in horror holding her mouth as everyone’s eyes got wide with shock and horror, even Helen’s.

“Two weeks,” I’esha said.

“Yeah this ain’t just no simple makeover Shi, you was never made…” Tamekia said.

I smiled.

“That’s just the makeover. Is there anything specific you’re trying to brush up on?” Brittany asked back on the training tip. She didn’t miss a beat.

“Fighting, ya’ know. Karate, boxing?” I looked Brittany in the eyes and then said, “How to kill.”

The girls looked at one another. Even Helen seem to be in on the group stares. I thought I’d hear “no,” I mean after all T-money told them he didn’t want me to be a killer. But T-money was gone, and I was ready to argue the point, I was not taking no.

“You may never learn how to kill Shi. I mean you can kill, but you need to realize there is an after math. A psychological aspect that cannot be learned,” Brittany said grimly.

“You have to be incapable of love, of feeling,” Charika said.

“You have to be able to detach yourself, you have to become indifferent,” Tamekia added.

“Killing is troublesome for everyone. I don’t care who it is. Even serial killers have trouble with it, that’s why they cannot be alone. Shi, this is not for you girl.

“We all have trouble killing. Yeah we love it, and we make it fun but it took years of hard living and broken hearts to develop our tough attitudes and to find the right justification for taking a human life.

“We make ourselves believe the world would be a much better place without them. We make ourselves believe that we’re doing the world a good and saving people from growing up like we did.”

It was silent while everyone stared at me after I’esha’s speech they were waiting for me to change my mind.

“A good killer has no emotions and is somewhat of a psycho whose only fear is themselves and getting caught. Getting caught because going to jail and being trapped in a box with their own conscience is what motivates a killer to not get caught.

“I’d die before I’ll let them take me,” Tamekia said.

I’esha put her hand on my shoulder, but I didn’t look at her. They would not talk me out of this. “Actually killing a person is not really that hard, the hardest part from not getting caught to dealing with it psychologically is turning it off. The hardest part is stopping because it is very simple to kill a person. Anyone could do it…look at your friend.”

I nodded thinking of Vicky.

“Our hearts turned to stone long ago,” Helen said, and my throat went dry at the sound of her voice. It scared the hell outta me.

I looked around at them looking at me. I made eye contact with each one of them to show I was serious and not backing down.

Swallowing and trying to be hard I said, “I don’t have years. How long?”

Brittany sighed and rolled her eyes, “Give us a month.”

Chapter 27

“We’ve got a few problems,” K.C. announced to Spin who was playing Madden 2k3 with D-loc in his game room.

Rod was getting a drink at the bar.

“Oh shit, did you see that?” Spin yelled.

“I bet you can’t do that shit again,” D-loc yelled back.

“Bet…now what’s going on? In yo’ face cuz; check that shit out,” Spin yelled.

“Pam’s been coming up short and that nigga B-Dub been losing money. They say his ass been giving shit away fo’ brain.”

Spin scored another touchdown and then paused the game. “Let’s go,” Spin sighed getting up.

The four got into Spin’s new Lexus bubble. K.C. drove while Spin played with the dials in the backseat. The sound system began blasting Dr. Dre’s Chronic album. Spin joked and smiled with D-loc who was in the back seat with him rapping the lyrics.

Three songs later, they were driving through a torn down residential area in East Oakland. The Lexus stopped in front of a boarded up run down house. It was a crack den where crack heads hid out and stayed to shoot up.

Spin and his entourage got out and walked up the driveway.

“What a dump,” he said walking to the door. “I don’t think they gonna meet inspection…Rod, K.C. I got five gallons in the trunk. Wet up them windows and doors,” Spin instructed pulling out his glock.

D-loc followed him inside the damp, dark, musty hell hole. Drug addicts in all forms and stages of their addiction were littered around high as hell.

Spin walked by them all unnoticed like the Angel of Death. Walking through the place, he found a room in the back.

B-Dub was a white boy who thought and would swear in front of God that he was black since he was raised around nothing but black people, in East Oakland of all places. He was skinny with a fade.

Spin found him in the back room naked fucking an old dirty woman. There was no doubt in Spin’s mind she was a crack head.

Spin smiled as he walked up behind B-Dub without making a sound and looked down over his shoulder at the discolored face and broken skin. “Awe dawg, you could do so much better,” Spin said.

B-Dub turned around fast not losing a stroke. Spin hit him in the face with the butt of his gun. He landed hard on top of the crack head.

“Damn, cuz, you got her high first?” Spin said as B-Dub rolled off her looking up at Spin with a mouth full of blood eyes wide.

“What a fucking gentlemen,” D-loc said from behind Spin.

The woman did not move.

“You don’t look too happy to see me,” Spin said to B-Dub. Shrugging Spin sat on the bed, “I heard you given my shit away for sexual favors.”

B-Dub did not answer. He just sat silently staring at Spin scared shitless.

“Once, okay it’s understandable, but once I find out about it it’s one too many,” Spin said pointing the gun at B-Dub who hid behind his hands. B-Dub was on the floor cowering against the wall still naked. Spin stood up, “Stand up B-Dub.”

“Spin, I, I, I…” he stuttered climbing to his feet.

“It’s okay, shhh,” Spin said smiling as B-Dub stood covering himself. “Don’t be shy nigga, we all got the same thing up in here…and shit nigga yo’ skin might not be black but from the waist down..." Spin laughed, and D-loc joined. B-Dub gave a nervous laugh.

Spin stopped laughing abruptly. Looking down at B-Dubs leg his face showed concern. “B-Dub you should have your knee looked at, you’re losing a lot of blood,” Spin said sounding concerned.

“Huh?” B-Dub asked looking down.

“Loc, don’t you see that?” Spin asked over his shoulder.

“I’m surprised he can still stand up,” D-loc said with a smile.

“He can’t,” Spin said shooting B-Dub in his knee.

B-Dub screamed and fell on the ground. D-loc laughed.

“I think you oughta get outta here B-Dub,” Spin said walking away without the hint of a smile on his face. “The whole place is on fire.”

B-Dub was screaming and holding his knee trying to stop the pain and blood from pouring out.

“I’d listen to his predictions,” D-loc said following Spin out.

K.C. threw his cigarette at the front door when Spin and D-loc walked out.

They got back into the Lexus as the house went up.

“Call the police and tell them about the fire when we get on the way-way,” Spin said from the backseat.

B-Dub was one of many examples and Spin believed examples needed to be kept alive.

Chapter 28

A diamond, that was the only way to describe Sinclair Rainy. She was very beautiful to look at, perfect even, yet as hard as one got.

Clair as she was known was born in East Oakland in ’88. She never knew her father though she searched for him. Clair also never knew her mother who died of birth complications. When Clair was born her mother, Rena would not stop bleeding. She’d had three other children before Clair, however; Clair was the one that killed her.

Rena was a drug addict turned prostitute. She was known around the town as a bop, a toss-up. She was loose and easy, every one of all ages had her.

Clair was raised by her aunty Mia up until she was five when Mia died.

Mia was in her late sixties when Clair was born. After Mia’s death, Clair was introduced to the institution of the foster care system. Clair and her siblings wound up in Detroit Michigan where they were bounced around for thirteen years. If the physical, mental, emotional and sexual abuse she received in the foster homes and juvenile system did not harden her the streets of Detroit did.

Clair was a gangsta who had shot, stabbed, beat, sold drugs and even killed by the time she was legal. Though her light skin and hazel almost red eyes did not look it, Clair was hard. Her southern charm and drawl was there if anything only to mislead.

The thing which made her all the more dangerous was Clair knew she was bad, she knew how to use it and she did.

Living the way she had for the past thirteen years she’d seen and had to do things she wasn’t proud of and was haunted every night by. She didn’t like to admit it, but she was slightly off.

Clair was a diamond and no one would ever doubt it by looking at her sweet face.

She sat in the Toyota she stole from the Oakland Grey Hound Station.

When she turned eighteen, she took all the money and left. Now there she was back in East Oakland for the first time in thirteen years sitting in the stolen car she had to ditch. She needed a new one since she’d had it for forty-eight hours, and it would be in the system as missing if it had been reported.

She watched the midnight blue Lexus pull away from the burning house. She got another glimpse of Spencer Washington. Spin as he was going by. Her heart was banging in her chest as she sat back in the seat watching his every move.

“Hi Spin, I’m Clair,” she said to herself looking at him. She had to meet him, that’s why she was there, why she was back.

It would be so easy, but she knew she couldn’t just walk up to him; he might get the wrong idea. She was not just your average bop like her mother was. She was not some Oakland rippa. She sighed as the car drove away.

All Clair wanted to do was touch him; look in his eyes. She wanted to make sure he was real. Clair waited two minutes before she continued to follow him like she’d been doing for the past month.

Finding him once she got to the Bay was easy. She knew how to get what she wanted and to meet Spin she was prepared to do anything, even go through one of the niggas he seemed to always be with.

After Spin returned home, Clair would go search for another car to steal so she could continue her surveillance until the moment was right. The moment she’d been waiting her entire life for.

However, just like the cuts of a diamond her timing had to be perfect.

Chapter 29

King was sitting in the front room of his three bedroom apartment.

His girlfriend Chantel was at work; she was a medical assistant. His daughter Taya was at day care.

He was supposed to be at work but decided not to go. He was tired of working forty something hours a week for barely no pay.

He remembered when he’d made what he makes in a week at his legit job in a day. He remembered when Shi came into his life, and they worked together. She was good, he had to admit, and he still loved her. He met Chantel when Shi was in the Mental Institution, and he’d flirted with her but stayed faithful to Shi, though she did not want him to. She gave him permission to go, she wanted him to.

He loved Shi and he wouldn’t. He thought he’d need sex, but jacking off every now and then was cool. He was going to wait for Shi. But then MaMaw got sick, and the letters were not enough.

Shi was just too far away, physically and emotionally.

When MaMaw passed, he was a wreck. It was he who found her in her bed. Chantel was there, and she comforted him. She saw him through the entire thing. Then it happened, the sex was great, seeing as he hadn’t had it in years.

There were just some things the hand could not do that a pussy could. He did it once, and the guilt ate him up. He’d planned on telling Shi, confessing but he didn’t. He couldn’t bring it up; he didn’t know how.

He was vulnerable.

He tried to justify it to himself. She was there when he needed someone and had no one. He and Chantel became close, he and Shi a distant memory. The letters became further apart and slowly they drifted.

He was excited to see her when he went to speak for her at the hospital. But it wasn’t the same; Shi wasn’t the same. They weren’t the same. They’d grown apart, and now he had a girlfriend, no, fiancée and a baby.

There were no hard feelings. He caught himself thinking about Shi a lot even when he was with Chantel. So when he played hooky because his emotions were not in a good place; he smoked and allowed himself to think of better times.

Times when MaMaw was alive. Times when he and Shi were together and happy.

King rolled a blunt and took a hit. His cell phone rang.

He slowly grabbed it and looked at the caller ID. It wasn’t a number he knew. It was from the 650, the Bay Area.

King wondered who’d be calling him. He was going to let it go to voicemail. He wanted alone time and didn’t want to be bothered until he absolutely had to and that wasn’t until a quarter to five.

Chantel got off work at four then went to pick up Taya and made it home around five.

Not knowing why King pressed the green talk button.

“Talk to me,” he said taking another hit.

“Hey,” a female said and King knew who it was. She didn’t sound the same, but the heart knows.

He swallowed smoke as he said, “Hey.” He had not spoken to Shi or heard from her since he saw her at the state hospital. “Happy late birthday,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said.

The line was silent for a while. He hadn’t known she was out; he’d thought she might be but he wasn’t sure. He just waited for the call and now were it was, and he had no idea what to say.

But he didn’t have to say anything. She spoke, and what she said made him stiffen. His heart skipped as she said, “I think I might know who killed Anthony.”

Chapter 30

Vicky had no idea what was going on. She was not only pissed off but fidgety. It was twelve, and she was supposed to be at work.

But Shi needed her. “It’s important,” Shi said, and so Vicky came.

She had to, Shi needed her. Vicky was tired of always being there when Shi called; when she needed. Things were different, she couldn’t just drop everything for Shi anymore, she could lose everything. And at the moment she had much more to lose.

She walked from her West Park Apartment to the McDonald's on University.

Her car’s transmission went out which was fucked up. She had just bought the car two weeks prior, and now it sat in her parking stall. What made it all the more messed up was the fact that she could have bought another one but then again she couldn’t. She had to keep up the image; she had to continue to play the part. She had to act like nothing changed and live on a budget in her rat hole working her dead end jobs.

She usually caught the bus to work. But she wasn’t headed to work. She was sitting in McDonald's waiting for Shi.

It’s all about Shi, she thought. It’s always been about Shi.

Shi was the one her dad loved, and Shi was the reason he was dead. Vicky felt bad about all the bad thoughts she had about Shi.

Shi was her best friend, her sister. They’d grown up together. But things were different, times had changed, Shi had been gone for over three years. Shi had been gone for far too long. Shi hadn’t been there for Vicky at all over those years, though Vicky knew the reason Shi was gone it didn’t change her thinking.

Shi had taken the case, had lied and not told a soul what had really happened.

Shi could have gone to jail for the rest of her life.

Times had changed, and things had happened, things Vicky was dying to tell Shi but couldn’t. At least not yet, and it hurt Vicky to think maybe not ever.

Vicky sighed, it was frustrating. Shi was her friend no matter which way she cut it or looked at it.

And that was the reason she’d called out of work and sat waiting in McDonald's risking her future.

Looking at the menu, Vicky wanted so badly to order something, but it was not in the budget. She had to keep up the front and live her pauper life. “How the mighty have fallen,” Vicky mumbled to herself.

She remembered when she had any and everything she wanted. She thought when her dad died she’d have money like when her mother passed, but her dad did not expect to die. Not so soon anyway, thus he didn’t prepare for it. The city had helped with everything, and her father had a proper reception and burial. She’d even had a little pity money from people, but that ran out long ago.

There she was twenty-two, working or rather slaving over two jobs just to make ends. But that was now; times were changing for the better she hoped. She’d gotten her G.E.D. and now had a high school diploma, she didn’t earn.

Her newest and third job was to work the other two she had and live life as normally as always until the time was right.

Vicky sighed as her stomach rumbled. She decided to move to a booth away from the food.

She relocated near the restrooms when she saw a familiar face. King walked in through the front doors. He looked around and then walked towards the restrooms looking like he was looking for someone.

Vicky was going to attempt to hide but decided not to. It’d be more embarrassing if he seen her trying to hide. She was wearing some tight jeans and a hoody. She had on her makeup, which she wouldn’t be caught dead without.

She could have pulled the hood over her head but smiled and said, “King?” He looked at her and after realizing who it was smiled. “Visiting?” she asked with a smile.

King walked to her, “Naw I’m looking for Shi. You?”

Vicky shrugged, “same, she called and said it was important and here I am.” King sat down. “Any idea what it’s about?” Vicky asked looking into his green eyes.

Vicky was hiding her contempt. Shi had been out for a few months, and Vicky hadn’t heard from her since she went to her hearing. And Shi finally decided to call.

Vicky thought that was fucked up, but she tried not to dwell on it.

“She said she knows who killed my brother.”

Vicky’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what to say or think. Shi had not told her anything nonetheless that she knew who killed AJ

And Vicky knew whoever killed AJ would be who killed Free, or at least knew who did, or even where Free was. Vicky sighed thinking about it all.

“Hungry?”

She looked at King.

“Not really,” she lied.

“I’m gonna go get something; you sure you don’t want anything?”

Vicky acted like she was thinking as her stomach rumbled. “Well, I ain’t ate all day maybe I should. Get me a Big Mac meal with a sprite please… super-size it,” she said looking in her purse as if she was intending to pay. King stood and began walking away. “Hold on, I gotta get my money,” Vicky said.

“I got it.”

She was relieved he was a gentleman, and she didn’t misread him.

King returned five minutes later. He sat down when the front doors opened, and a beautiful brown-skinned girl with her hair pulled back and pinned up with a clip came in. She looked like a kid though Vicky knew she wasn’t. She’s pretty Vicky thought wondering who she was.

She looked familiar.

She wore a tight Baby Phat shirt which stretched over her D’s and showed her navel which was pierced. Her hip huggers were denim and were tight enough to give a yeast infection. She had on white K-Swiss. Her arched eyebrows and manicure looked perfect. Vicky could tell her eyes were smoked out from across the room. She was rocking the hell out of a black and gray Gucci purse and Vicky wondered whether it was a knock off.

The girl looked around, and Vicky could tell she worked out. Her body was well proportioned, beautiful.

“Don’t we know her from somewhere?” Vicky asked King looking at the girl.

He turned to look, and the woman saw them. She smiled a flawless pearly white smile and Vicky was sure she knew her. She knew that smile which belonged to someone else, not the girl she was looking at. However, she couldn’t place where.

Her black lip liner and glossy lips sparkled.

“I don’t know,” King said as she approached.

“So!” the girl said standing behind King.

Vicky lifted an eyebrow. “So what?” she shot back with an attitude ready to clown her pretty ass because she no doubt was there trying to get at King whom Vicky could not help but realize was fine as hell.

“What do you think?” the girl said looking nervous.

Vicky recognized the voice but coming from the girl she was looking at seemed out of place.

“Shi?” Vicky heard King asked sounding just as lost as she was.

Chapter 31

Makeup does motha-fuckin’ wonders.

Okay a bitch barely recognized herself and seeing the looks on Vicky and King’s faces confirmed it.

B.I.T.C.H. did the damn thang.

First, I was taken shopping by Charika and I’esha who introduced me to the world of designer clothes.

Tamekia and Brittany introduced me to hair and the Mac Counter.

Helen even pitched in with skin care and let me tell you I was shocked. I did not know that bitch actually worked to look crazy or that she was a girly-girl on the low. She told me not to say anything or she’d kill me, and I believed the psycho bitch. So to the grave it goes.

After a week’s crash course, I was shown how to apply makeup for several hours until I got it right. I was put in high heels for three hours a day, not including the time it took me to walk half a mile in them. Oh yeah, them hoes were serious. A bitches feet had blisters and somemo’e shit, but I knew how to walk in heels.

B.I.T.C.H. grilled me relentlessly, and I hated Cosmo Girl, Vogue and every other fashion magazine there was, yet I read and would still read them all to see what the latest were.

After I had all the essentials down, we moved to hair. Charika and I’esha permed the front and sides of my hair and braided the back into a beehive and then they sowed twenty inch human hair tracks in. They explained that sew-ins were better than glue because glue pulled yo’ hair out and damaged it. I was taught how to wrap and take care of my hair. I was given a variety of products, sprays, oils sheens, grease, flat irons, rollers, hot comb, the works.

“Be easy with the grease and oil, you don’t want your tracks to be all gummy and sticky and stank looking,” Charika advised me.

I was still learning and knew it would be an ongoing process. At first, I felt uncomfortable especially showing skin, but once I saw myself in the mirror it was a wrap. I mean a bitch was sexy, I was a piece, and I liked it. I felt like a girl again after all them years and working out in the state hospital seem to help. I had a nice body; I was no longer that skinny girl with bushy eyebrows.

I was bad and knew it. I was Shiesty Shi.

King could not keep his eyes off me when I sat down next to Vicky. I could only imagine how they felt and what they were thinking. They had not seen me in months, and when they had I was regular ole bushy eye browed Shi.

King was still fine, and I still had feelings for him. The problem was it was too late for us. "You look nice,” he said.

I smiled at him and replied, “Thank you.”

“Shi, what’s this?” Vicky asked. Her eyes were twinkling.

Vicky always wanted me to be a girl and now there I was.

“One of many changes,” I told her going into my purse and pulling out my Metro. I checked the time and said, “Spencer.”

I looked at King praying that he knew who he was, I knew Vicky didn’t.

“Who’s that?” Vicky asked.

“I was hoping you could tell us,” I said still looking at King as he shrugged and then shook his head.

“Goes by the name Spin.”

I’d found out from Diamond the nigga who’s been running the drug game since T-money died was a nigga named Spin. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Spin and Spencer were one in the same.

“Word is he’s running the Bay now. He and his crew brought down T-money. He claims he is the game now; pretty smart really,” King said putting ketchup on his fries. “When T-money died no one could get anything since T-money ran it all. Because there was no drugs coming in, the price of drugs started going up, dimes became dubs….”

“How’s that smart?” Vicky asked offering me some of her fries. I shook my head not taking my eyes off King.

“As soon as the prices go up all of a sudden Spin’s got it.”

I nodded, “the nigga pulled a fast one…anything else?”

I needed to know everything about the nigga.

“Like what?” King took another bite of his burger.

Seeing his green eyes sent longing through me.

“How’s he running the game?”

“Ruthless, rogue. He got something to prove. He out trying to make a big name for himself, like trying to overshadow T-money’s name, T-money’s big name.”

I nodded. It had been over four years; I figured he should have made a splash already.

“He’s no T-money,” King said, and I thought damn right.

T-money killed my father.

I need to think…

“He got kids? A girl?”

King looked at me as he slowly chewed. He was still sexy as fuck.

“I don’t know, Shi. Why?”

My eyes widened and then I caught myself. Was he jealous?

“You said you knew who killed Ant.”

I nodded wondering just how much of my plan to reveal. I chose the safe side and said, “I’m not one hunit, but I believe Spin might be involved in Free and AJ’s deaths.”

I’d ran the night over and over in my head and picked every little thing I remembered hearing apart. Spin had said he finished what T-money started. He said Free was gone when T-money asked. I was sure if he had not killed them, himself then he knew who did or even where Free was.

Besides that I owed him one for the authorizing my rape.

King looked at me, and I saw his green eyes go dark.

“Look, I want to find out what happened to Free King. And to do that I need to get to Spin…alive.”

I didn’t think King would kill or could kill. My King was not capable of that. But then again he was no longer mine.

“‘ight but once I find out that nigga had anything to do with Ant’s death I’m puttin’ one between his eyes.”

I looked at King thinking not before I do. I nodded, and we sat in silence.

“So what’s the plain?” King asked sometime later.

I took a deep breath, “there’s a lot to it but essentially I need to get in good with him, get close to him so he can…I mean he will tell me what I wanna know.”

“Is that what this is about?” Vicky finally spoke waving her hand over me.

I ignored the question, “I feel bad asking you for your help with something like this because you have a family now-”

“Someone killed my family when they killed Ant. Shi don’t worry about mines, I’m capable of protecting them rogue.”

I looked at him and fought back tears. I remembered when I was his. When he protected me. His girl took my place; I was supposed to have his first child and it hurt. But I’d given it up for Vicky, and I’d do it again.

“What do you need me to do?” King asked sipping his soda.

“Move some weight like we use to and put the name Shiesty Shi out in the streets.” I saw him smile. Shiesty Shi was first uttered by him, and I could tell he remembered. “You still got connections?”

King nodded, “More or less. A few people survived the takeover. I took my money and ran, became a square.”

I smiled he was anything but.

“You know how I do,” I said referring to the weed.

“This is gonna be a repeat of before. I want to be noticed. We gonna buy mo’e weed than they can sell, I wanna buy him out.”

King nodded as he looked up in the air thinking.

“Shi, what do you need me for?” Vicky asked sipping her soda.

“I’m on my way to the top, Vick, and you coming along for the ride. You know I can’t leave you behind.”

We smiled at one another.

“I missed you, Shi,” she said wiping her eyes and hugging me.

“Okay, Shi before we move any further and I really get into this plan I need to know how’s this going to be funded. I mean I got a little stash, but that’s about a pound or two. It’ll take more than that to get his attention and even still that’ll take stupid dummy ass long.”

“Not if we have the money for more. How many pounds do you think will get his attention?”

King shrugged, “I don’t know ten, maybe, fifteen.” I nodded ten pounds of weed was twenty racks if I could get it for two racks a pound like before. “That might get some attention,” King said.

I didn’t need a might.

“What about fifty?”

“Fifty racks? Fifty racks will only get you-” he stopped when he saw me shaking my head.

“Now who’s acting brand new?” I smiled at him. “I’m talking about fifty pounds of Royal Purp.”

I knew Vicky had no idea what was going on, but she even looked at me funny.

“Where? You got that kinda money?” he asked.

I shook my head, “I can get it. Will a hundred open some eyes?”

He was staring at me, and I could tell he was doing the math.

“Yeah, we could work it. But where we gonna get that kind of money, rogue?”

I smiled at his fine ass and said, “I have a plan.”

Chapter 32

“ROB A BANK!” Vicky asked for the twelfth day in a row and the thousandth time.

All I could do is tell her to trust a bitch, and she was doing a good job at it.

She’d been with me all twelve days planning and lost her job in the process. She was going crazy about it for a minute until I told her it would be okay and I was going to take care of her. It took her a few days, but she finally stopped complaining around the fourth day, and we were good.

I assembled the team. Me, Diamond, Vicky and King. We all had our parts, and the plan was full proof.

When I explained it all to them, what I’d need and how it’d go down they were speechless.

Not because a bitch was serious about robbing a bank, they’d gotten passed that part. The issue was who’d do the actual robbing and how I’d had planned it to be done.

No guns and by…

“KIDS?” Vicky was the first to say something.

I smiled, “The younger the better and it’d be— see if we can find homeless kids. Diamond, do you know any run aways or kids on the track?”

Diamond just blinked.

“Shi?” King said.

“We can go in there shooting King and get the money, but if we’re… if someone gets hurt or we’re caught we’d get way more time than a minor would.”

“But we don’t plan on getting caught,” he said.

“Exactly, but if they do get caught we’ll take care of them and they’ll have money when they get out in a year, hell, two max.”

King was shaking his head; using children did not sit right with him either. But it was Vicky that inspired my plan to make a whole new turn.

“And if it don’t work, Shi? Not only will we be without the money but the kids will be locked up for nothing.”

“For attempted bank robbery,” I said drawing on my self-learned law degree. “How would you like it if the kids had a one in three chance of getting caught?” No one spoke. “Trust me,” I said formulating my newest plan in which we’d share some of the risk and increase our chances of getting our money.

I only needed to sell them on the idea.

“Oh and Diamond, we’ll need some meth and a few pipes.” Everyone was staring at me as if I had lost my mind. I sighed, “Haven’t any of you heard of proposition 36?”

Chapter 33

Six prepaid Verizon Wireless phones were bought with cash. Twenty minutes were free with activation, and it supported mobile to mobile for a dollar a day. I bought six headsets with the phones.

King supplied us with three unregistered, unloaded guns and Diamond got us three homeless teenage prostitutes with no identification. They never saw none of our faces. Diamond approached them dressed as Chris the man he was born as. And let me tell you he made a better man and looked nothing like he did as a female. That was the reason Chris would be going into the bank.

I called one phone, and three wayed another and that one three wayed another until we were all on one line.

I explained if the signal dropped then they were to get out money or not.

We’d work in teams. We were all in place and ready at ten o’clock.

Vicky stood across the street from Washington Mutual Bank in downtown Palo Alto. The cellphones were our timers.

At one after ten Vicky picked up a pay phone and dialed 911. We were all in place listening on three-way, well six-way.

“They need help!” she yelled into the phone. “They’re going to kill someone, they’re robbing the bank.” This bitch was a good actress. I smiled listening silently. “I got out, but they’re still in there…I don’t know I’m downtown…on Hamilton…I don’t know. Oh my God, oh my God…Calm down? They got guns, I almost died…” I heard the phone slam down. “Phase one complete,” Vicky said into the phone.

“All units report, bank robbery in progress 300 Hamilton suspects armed and dangerous,” King said listening to the police scanner.

We all stayed in place waiting for Vicky, our eyes in Palo Alto. We heard sirens and commotion just as Vicky said, “First officers on the scene.”

Within five minutes, Vicky reported over ten police cars cruising up and parking.

“They’re here, guns out looking at the building,” Vicky said.

It was ten minutes past ten when Chris entered City Bank in Palo Alto off El Camino and California Ave and when the three homeless girls minus a gun did the same at the Bank of America across the street from City Bank. The homeless girls wore hoodies and were given a hand written note to give the teller. One girl would watch the door, one would chill in the bank as if she was there waiting on someone, and the other would hand the teller the note.

After they got the money, they would run outside and drop the bag of money in a trashcan and get the hell out of there. They were supposed to be done by ten twenty so they could catch the twenty-two down town. They would ride the bus across Organ Expressway where they would get off and walk to the Stanford Motor Lodge and go to their room.

Chris would go in armed and request the money and run out the back. City Bank had a guard that hung around outside the bank. Chris would run out the back to a large parking lot, throw the money in an open car window and keep it moving to the next parking lot. She was supposed to go through the back of Kinko’s and hit the bathroom and make the transformation from Chris back to Diamond.

I’d go get the money out of the trashcan and King should be picking me up in the car Diamond threw the money in. We’d go to drop the money off in Mountain View at a Motel 6 and then go swoop up Diamond and Vicky.

The girls were given fifty dollars in singles. They were also given a key and a locker number and told to go separately to the 24hour Fitness in Mountain View at five p.m. where they would find the five thousand dollars they were promised.

I was listening nervously on the phone as the girl named Zoe said, “‘Scuse me ma’am, I need to make a withdrawal.”

I heard the teller say, “Sure do you have your deposit slip?”

There was silence, and I knew she slid the note.

Then I heard Chris say, “Look bitch I want to go home to my kids and I’m sure you wanna do the same so let’s work together.”

“Okay,” I heard and smiled.

At ten seventeen, I heard Zoe say, “Thank you,” and then, “B of A hit.”

The phone call from the girls ended and at ten twenty King said, “Robbery at Bank of America on El Camino all available units report.”

I smiled as my heart pounded, “Wamu?”

Vicky said, “just now entering the bank. I guess they called the bank first.”

“CB we need you home,” I said dry swallowing.

“Don’t have me come back,” I heard Chris say and then, “Leaving now.”

I sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Chris yell. “I think you better get in there, there’s some nut with a gun.”

I was silent.

“Who was that?” King asked, we heard heavy breathing and running.

“Security,” Chris panted. “CB hit, drop made I’m gone.”

Chris’ line went dead. I took a deep breath and walked across the street from the Olive Garden to Bank of America. “‘ight see y’all in a few,” I said grabbing the little Dora the Explorer backpack out of the trash and putting it in my large purse which was a fashion statement and came in handy.

I had the world in that bag.

King pulled up as police siren’s made their presence known. I could see them turning on the opposite side coming off Organ Expressway. They’d have to flip a bitch to get to Bank of America, and then there was still City Bank to get to also.

I jumped in the rental car, and we calmly drove off rubber necking just like the best nosey white people.

By eleven, we were all in the Motel 6 in Mountain View screaming and yelling. I could not believe it; I’d just successfully robbed a bank.

A bitch felt like them hoes on Set It Off. We’d got away with a hundred and ninety thousand. The girls got the ninety thousand, which was way more than they kept in them registers. I wanted to ask them about it but contact was eliminated for safety reasons. Didn’t want the bitches snitching or asking fo’ mo’e money. Don’t even; I had a plan for this money.

Diamond had the teller empty out all the drawers, which I was surprised, went down without an alarm going off or a dye pack slipped in.

Robbing a bank was easier than I thought.

“With a gun in yo’ face your first thought ain’t to be brave,” Diamond said looking at me. “How much we get?”

“Ninety racks,” I told her. Yeah I lied. I counted the Dora backpack and hid all but ten racks and then I took more than half of what Diamond got out of the back before we went to pick them up.

“Fuck, you sure?”

I nodded sadly.

Everyone knew the goal and based on the goal the money would be split four ways. First, I’d take half and then it would be split four ways. The take would have been a little under twenty thousand for King, Vicky, and Diamond.

Diamond sighed, and I said, “Don’t trip, girl. I guess I can make it work. I’ll pay y’all the eighteen racks anyway. I mean come on I ain’t greedy and we just robbed a motha fucking bank!”

I got them pumped up again. We all chilled and talked about what we were gonna spend our money on. We had an early dinner, and I cashed Diamond out.

Her car was in the parking lot. She offered to take Vicky home while me and King took the rental back. She wanted King and I back together, so she thought quality time would help.

“Naw it’s in my name,” Vicky lied.

“I gotta take it back, and King drove me up there.”

Diamond shrugged.

“I’ll be at home later,” I told her with a smile.

She took her duffle bag sized white purse full of money and left.

When we were all in the car and headed towards Showers Drive King said, “So ninety subtracted eighteen, eighty two racks. I don’t know about Vick, but I ain’t trippin’ off the money. I barely had any exposure and hell we could flip eighty-two easily. That’s forty pounds.”

“Oh no, we’re buying fifty.”

He looked at me, but Vicky was the one who spoke. “Girl you can have my share we already talked, I’m just happy to have my best friend back. I mean I been struggling, and I’m happy to keep on as long as your by my side.”

I turned and smiled at my best friend, my sister.

“But fifty is at least a hunit racks Shi,” King said ignoring me and Vicky’s display of affection. “We short twenty eight. I mean I got like twelve, do—”

“We don’t need it,” I said as we hit 101. He looked at me, and I was afraid he’d hit something. “We’ve got enough.”

I know he was wondering if I’d had a stash all along or how we’d get twenty eight thousand dollars.

“We hit the banks for one hundred and ninety racks, and I gave Diamond her cut.”

“Shit, Shi!” I heard Vicky say. “But I thought…” Vicky was talking to herself in the backseat.

I looked at King smiling at me. “Shiesty Shi,” he was shaking his head and smiling.

I fucking missed him and his sexy ass smile. I regretted the fact I couldn’t give him what he needed. Still I fucking missed him.

“I missed you,” he said laughing.

I just smiled, over analyzing my next move.

Chapter 34

First thing I did the next morning was ask Diamond to make some fake check stubs. I gave her the amount, and when they were through I went to a used car lot.

I found a white 2000 BMW. I don’t know why but I fucking loved those cars.

After I found a ’03 Lexus coup. I dropped twenty on it off the lot. It was silver.

I parked my new BMW down the street from Deals on Wheels and then I drove the silver Lexus to Courtyard at Bay Road. I got the check stubs, and I made an appointment at a luxury apartment in San Jose.

I drove to West Park and went to Vicky’s apartment. She was dressed and ready because I told her the day before I’d be by. We had to handle some business I told her. There was no questions asked, and she was ready.

She opened the door, I handed her the car keys and walked away.

“Shi,” she called after me. She was behind me by the time I hit the stairs. “Where we goin’?” she asked.

I didn’t say anything. Smiling I walked outside followed by Vicky. I went to the Lexus and looked at her.

“Damn, where’d ya’ get that?” she asked.

“You ask too many questions and none of the right ones.”

I opened the passenger door.

“How much this shit cost?”

I could see the longing in her eyes. I reached in the glove compartment and said, “It don’t matter.” I handed her the pink slip. She looked at it, then up at me and then down at the pink slip again. I’d put her name in the transfer box.

Her mouth dropped.

“Let’s go to the D.M.V. then to get my car before it gets towed.”

She thanked me all the way to the D.M.V. and then all the way to get my car. She inspected it, and we drove to San Jose.

We walked into the office of the luxury condo apartment building, and I told them I was interested in a three-bedroom apartment.

I was taken to the twelfth floor and was sold by the time the manager opened the door. They furnished the apartments and had a gym, swimming pool, hot tub, and a spa. It was a luxury apartment at five racks a month. The place was P.H.A.T. I only thought they had apartments like that in New York and shit.

“So!” the manager said after the tour.

Vicky looked at me; she’d been wide mouthed the entire time. She loved it and told me she’d be there every day. “You gonna think I live here,” she joked.

I looked at the manager and said, “Ask my sister, it’s her apartment.”

Vicky damn near fainted. As we made our way back to the office, I told the manager we’d be back. I gave Vicky her stubs, and we went and signed her a one-year lease, and we paid the lease off plus utilities. Seventy racks and now Vicky was living in luxury. I had to take care of my girl…right?

Because Vicky’s new apartment had everything a human could possibly need Vicky decided she’d only be taking her clothes and pictures. The small twenty-inch T.V. she said could stay. She left West Park damn near furnished.

I decided to let her get comfortable before I was ready to go again.

“Shi, it’s seven thirty; where we going now?” she asked exhausted.

“Bitch, the mall don’t close ‘til nine,” I smiled.

I was cramming the last five years of our lives that we missed into a day. It was the bonding I missed and was trying to make up for. When you got it, you got it.

Vicky and I went to the Great Mall in Milpitas. I ain’t never been there either, and it was tight and big as hell.

We made two trips to the car by nine. I had no idea how much we spent, and I didn’t care. We had fun.

I learned more about fashion and Vicky introduced me to the world of accessories. We tried clothes and shoes on knowing we’d buy them. We bought jewelry, expensive shit. We got glasses and purses. I hadn’t been shopping in over three years, and I made the most of it. This time I listened to Vicky and we only argued on color. Some of the shit we bought you could paint a bitch in it was so fucking tight.

We got looks, and I felt fine, sexy. Niggas with their bitches was on us, and I’m sure we would have been approached if for nothing but the high maintenance way we looked. Hell, if we didn’t have niggas and wasn’t spending they doe’-which them lames could not compete with-then we had our own which made them ask; what could I do for them other than offer dick?

Yes, I was really getting into the pretty girl thing, and I tell you it was easy. I was walking with my head so high up in the air that I swore I felt my nose bleeding hella times. A bitch was having the time of her life.

But leave it to King to ruin it all. He’d been working on putting a bitches name in the streets and setting up our business deal for fifty pounds of weed. He was also trying to make sure Spin would be at the meeting. I’d just got myself an iPhone and had my Metro’s number ported over to At&t. I had a little pink thing to cover it and had it in my purse.

It began to ring when Vicky started the car. I looked down at the large screen lost; the shit only had one button. It was all touch screen, and I was fucking happy when the shit had ‘answer’ in green on the screen next to the red ‘ignore.’

I’d just gotten my nails done, and I was getting use to them. I pressed the screen awkwardly and then looked at it. I could hear something and so I put it to my ear.

Vicky laughed, “Girl, I don’t know why you got that thing,”

“Hello,” King’s voice rang in crystal clear. “Shi?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell?”

“New phone, what’s up?”

“Well yo’ name is out there, they know you lookin’ to drop a hunit racks on fifty. Because of the amount they say they can work with a hunit.”

“Okay,” I said trying to calculate how much I just spent in the last twelve hours.

“They ain’t got it but they will.”

“When?”

“They want to meet with you next month, and they want half to see if you serious, then they’ll get fifty and we give the other half.”

I didn’t like that at all.

“Spin gonna be there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, King, I won’t be there. You’ll go for me, and if there is any questions tell them if they want my business then have Spin call and we’ll work something out.” The line went silent. “Hello?" I thought he hung up.

“I-” he laughed. “You crazy Shi, and that’s why I love you.”

“Love yah, too, Boo,” I said.

“What you been up to?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes and switched ears as I moved my hair out the way. I sighed, “Shopping with my best.”

“Uh oh, Shi will…. do we have the money?” he asked.

I felt bad because I knew we were at least ten racks short.

“We’ll have it,” I said knowing that if I had to do over again, I would.

Chapter 35

I let a full week of chillin’ and King buggin’ pass before I decided to worry about the eighteen g’s we were short.

I drove to my storage and I grabbed the five pounds Diamond bought and called the crew together.

“‘ight,” I said meeting at the apartment I got with the girls in East Palo Alto. Everyone was there including Vicky and King. The girls were all working on their own and had cars. Two had quit and started working legit and was going to school. I still kept a small cut from them, way smaller than before. I only took 15%, and that was because they liked me.

Diamond was the new me, she didn’t work often and just made appointments and took care of the apartment and bills. She and I had discussions on what we would do once all the girls were where they were supposed to be. There was talk about a new batch of girls but…

…it was a means not a way.

A few girls were planning on moving out and branching off on their own. I mean hell I just made them legal prostitutes. And it would have really been an issue with me, however, that part of my life was passing, and my means for a way were changed. To be blunt they were no longer any of my concern. However, no matter what they still claimed to be Shi Girls and Madame Shiesty Shi was the H.B.I.C.

No one was use to the new me, but everyone loved it and had questions. But I had to stay focus.

“Look girls, I need a very big favor. Y’all know I’m about mine and money is my goal. Ok, I need to get one hunit racks, and I got ‘bout seventy five,” I lied. I didn’t want Diamond getting all suspicious. “I’m branching off, and I now got another hustle. I got about five pounds of Royal Purp I need to move, and I want yo’ help.

"Don’t act brand new y’all know the get down. Sell it to yo’ dates if you have to, I don’t know, and I don’t care I just need it gone…” They were all silent. “I’ll pay y’all of course but I ask y’all to treat it as a minimum wage part time gig that y’all do full time. Once I get a-hunit I’ll take care of y’all, y’all know I will.”

They all nodded. I fucking loved those bitches.

“I’ll be packaging the shit, and I’ll let you know the get down on prices and shit. We trying to make a name, so I’m slashing prices. I wanna get rid of this shit.

“If a nigga trips off the package or look give him another dime for half the price, he still on one give him another for a third; don’t take no for an answer…” They were all nodding and I felt good. They were following me, and my puzzle pieces were finally falling into place.

“…and if they ask whose shit it is?”

“Shiesty Shi’s,” they all said.

“Who’s the boss?”

“Shiesty Shi.”

“That’s my girls, now spread my name as much as possible. I’ll get at y’all in a few days.”

The meeting was over, and I turned to talk to King. It was time for me to work my magic on five pounds of weed and pray my ass off that these simple ass niggas fell for it again. The price of weed was up and if it was anything like before I could easily double my money.

“Shi?” I turned, and Diamond was handing me the little Nokia I bought when I first got out of the hospital. It was all but forgotten by me since I was on my second phone and the one I had made the one she was holding look like a cheap toy from the dollar store. “I forgot to tell you this lady keep on calling for you.”

I lifted my perfectly arched eyebrow, “Who?”

Diamond shrugged, “I don’t know Dr. Something.”

My heart sank. “Richards? Dr. Richards?”

“Yeah, her.”

I’d forgot all about her. I hadn’t spoken to her in over a month, and I was too busy to think about it. Things were moving too fast. I had got a new number and forgot to give it to her.

I knew she must have been going crazy about now.

“When’s the last time she called?” I asked looking around for my purse. I was about to call her back not knowing what the hell I was going to say.

“She on the phone right now,” Diamond said putting the small phone in my hand.

Swallowing the dry lump in my throat I said, “Hello.”

“Scheyenne? Oh my God are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I smiled trying to think up lies for the questions she was yet to ask.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m, I’m okay Dr. Richards.”

“Simply Shi’s?’

Fuck I thought. “Dr. Richards are you free?”

“Huh? When?”

“Now.”

The line went silent. I used the silence to go to my purse on the couch and grab my phone.

“You need me to come out there?”

“No, I’ll come to you,” I said opening up my Google Map app.

“How?”

“I’ll drive.”

“Scheyenne?”

“I’ll explain when I see you. What’s the address?”

She reluctantly gave it to me, and I punched it into my cellphone. I clicked driving directions. Bakersfield was five hours away, and it was eight o’clock.

“Will you be up by one?” I asked.

“I’ll stay up Shi,” she said and I could tell she was confused and conflicted on me coming.

“Here’s my new number,” I said giving her my number. After I made sure she had it down I said, “I’ll see you in five hours.”

I took a quick shower there and put on some sweats which were tight as hell. I put on a tee shirt, grabbed my big bag purse, put up my hair, told everyone where I was going, declined a riding buddy, guaranteed my safety, got a pack of sunflower seeds out the cabinet, a red bull from the fridge, got in my car, looked at my smart phone and started my journey in silence.

No radio, I had to think what I was going to tell Dr. Richards and how much of it would be the truth.

Chapter 36

I called when I got there.

Dr. Richards lived in a large yellow and white house. Her house looked out of place amongst the smaller houses.

I parked in the drive way and got out of my car holding my purse in the crook of my arm just like the white girls. I walked to the front door which was opened and Dr. Richards had taken up residence like a worried parent.

I stepped into the large living room. All the lights in the house seem to be on and bright as hell.

“Wha—” Dr. Richards stopped in her tracks after closing the door and turning to look at me. “Shi?” I smiled at her. “You look…beautiful, what is all this?”

“You like?”

She gave me a big hug with an even bigger smile. “I was so worried about you and look at you girl.”

“I know, I had a makeover. It’s the new me, I’ve been reborn.”

I thought I saw tears in her eyes as she said, “you’re so grown now.”

“Ah come on mom,” I joked and we shared a laugh.

She led me to a sofa and I felt so good seeing her; I could not stop smiling.

“Who did yo’ hair? And you got nails…” She was so amazed. “Those tracks?” I smiled. “They look so real.”

“Sew in, Shake ‘N’ Go.”

“Damn Shi.” We just smiled at one another. “Simply Shi’s?” she asked.

I laughed, “You got me, I’ma pimp.” She laughed as I said, “Well actually a Madame.”

“Girl you too much.”

“I been through a lot in the pass year but Dr. Richards…I’m here, and I’m happy, and I’m going to become somebody-”

“You already are somebody baby,” Dr. Richards said, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Before a tear could even think to come to my eyes I pushed on, “I’m going to go to school for cosmetology, it’s a thirteen week course, and I’ll probably own my own shop.’

I sat there for hours owing and awing Dr. Richards; not necessarily lying but not telling the truth.

Dr. Richards insisted that I don’t drive back when we got done talking at four. But I told her I needed to be back by two p.m.

She said she wanted me to meet the family. For some reason I didn’t feel worthy and that made me a little jumpy and really want to get back on the road. But I stayed.

She led me to a guest room where I got comfortable and knocked out.

When I woke up at twelve I’d missed breakfast but not lunch. I found my way to the bathroom and when I came out a little black boy who looked dead on Dr. Richards was waiting. He looked at me up and down and then his eyes grew wide. “Ma! She up!” he screamed scaring the hell out of me.

Over lunch I met Erik who looked the same as his pictures, I met E.J. the oldest boy, Sammy the middle child and the youngest George also known as Lil’ Tate for some strange reason. He was the one who I met outside of the bathroom.

The entire family was kind and warm. And E.J. was infatuated with me, and it was so cute. None of them wanted to leave my side, they were all so nice and loving and welcoming. They were just like Dr. Richards.

They had heard so much about me as I them. We felt like we already knew one another, like we was…family.

I forgot all about having to be back in the bay by two. I had to leave, well…I wanted to leave I guess. Or did I?

When I spoke to Vicky, King and later on Diamond my mind changed so many times.

First I told Vicky I’d be leaving in a minute. Then I told King I’ll be gone by four and Diamond was told I was just staying for dinner.

I just couldn’t say no. I didn’t say no.

I was with a family, and I felt a part of that family. It had been so long since I felt a part of something and had that feeling I was getting with the Richards’. So not only didn’t I or couldn’t I say no. For the life of me I wouldn’t say no.

Chapter 37

“Shiesty Shi?” Spin said looking at K.C. and Rod. They nodded, “who the hell is this bitch?”

K.C. shrugged, and rod said, “Some chick trying to move major weight.”

Spin nodded. He looked at D-loc who had a bag of powder. He stuck his pinky in and sniffed a small amount off his finger. Spin rolled his eyes.

D-loc just started sniffin’ coke out of nowhere. They bought from Columbians, and he used to taste it to check it out. Then one day he began sniffin’. Now, he stayed with an ounce on him, he was constantly playing with his nose.

Spin was waiting for it to become a problem before he intervened. The thing was D-loc had been functioning better since he started doing coke.

“She the bitch that won’t fifty?” Spin asked. K.C. nodded. “Well, she serious?”

K.C. and Rod shrugged. “We met with her people-”

“People?” Spin asked. “People? She got people? What kind of people?”

“Some nigga named King from P.A. He say he work fo’ Shiesty Shi. Said they willing to drop a hunit on it.”

Spin nodded, the price hadn’t returned to normal since he killed T-money and hoarded the drugs he had. So he could easily get another fifty, probably a hundred more out of them. But he’d deal with that later. “Well, what happened?”

“We sent message saying we’ll meet, and we need fifty up front to see if they real. We’ll drop the fifty, and we get the other fifty from them,” Rod explained.

“And?”

“Her man said she didn’t like that and gave us this,” Rod handed Spin a piece of paper.

He could smell the perfume on it. It was a phone number. “Said give her a call when you wanna do serious business.”

Spin raised his eyebrow. “Loc who is this bitch?”

D-loc looked up at Spin. “Don’t know, ain’t nobody eva seen her ass. But she selling weed already, the bitch a hustla. She got money coming in all over… I done been hearing her name for a while now, first with the Shy Girls and-”

“Shy Girls?” Spin asked.

“The bitch’s a pimp, got bout ten hoes working for her, half of her hoes ain’t real bitches I heard. But I’m hearing they bringing it in. Don’t even stand on the track no moe’ all by appointments.”

Spin stared at D-loc and then the number. Who the fuck was this bitch?

50 pounds was lot, a hundred g’s at the least. Spin could pass up the money, but there was something strange about all of it.

“Where’d she get the shit she selling now?” Spin asked hoping she wasn’t some out of towner trying to compete and take over the Bay because Spin had no competition nor did he like it. Men, women or children…if there was a threat they’d all get wet.

Spin treated them equal.

“Don’t know, I think us. Coupla months back someone asked fo’ five pounds…and I think I heard it was fo’ Shiesty Shi..."

“But that should be gone by-”

“Now,” Spin finished nodding. “Who is this bitch?” he asked again.

Curiosity would kill any nigga, but Spin didn’t care. Besides he was untouchable. Before a nigga could get one off he’d have at least twelve in him. Guessing she could be an enemy, a threat. Spin decided that he had to know or try to find out. And if he didn’t find out he’d just have the bitch killed just in case.

Spin tossed the paper across his desk and said, “Call her. I wanna meet her.” Everyone exchanged looks, “And tell her to have my money, and I’ll have what she wants.”

If I decide to kill her I might as well profit from it Spin thought.

Chapter 38

Janell sat in the back of the black Hummer 2 as Brittany drove. “Kendrick Chapman and Rodney Jenkins,” Brittany said. “We have Charika and I’esha working on them.”

“Okay,” Janell responded looking at papers in her lap. “And Daniel Loca?”

“I’ll have the honors. Tamekia's assigned to Spin.”

“No killing, just collect information.”

“It’s all good, but we do always have Helen as a stand by,” Brittany said knowing Janell knew why. “I don’t want them hurt Janell.” Brittany said.

Janell swallowed and said, “Me either… So don’t get hurt. Once you make it inside y’all know what y’all need to do. If there is any sign of danger, tell them to do what’s necessary.”

Brittany nodded, she’d already done that.

Brittany hated the fact that she would have to let another man touch her, but it was for T-money and she’d do anything for him… even die.

Chapter 39

“The fuck you mean the bitch hung up on you?” Spin yelled at K.C.

“I called and told her we, well you might be interested in doing business with her. She said that was cool and why were you not calling her… I told her you were very busy.

“She said she was busy too, and maybe you two can schedule a time when your both not busy. Then she asked me not to call her anymore, and if I needed her to go through her people and to tell you to feel free to call her. She said, ‘goodbye,’ and hung up.”

Spin blinked…who the fuck is this bitch? he thought staring at K.C. He was debating and seriously considering just putting’ her down, whoever she was.

“Where’s the number?” Spin asked calmly while thinking I’m gonna kill this bitch.

“Spin we don’t need her money. Fuck that bitch; she came to us, she needs us.”

Spin looked at D-loc. He was right but still Spin wanted the money. He was also curious about the hoe. And although the bitch was pissing him off he had to, but hated to admit the bitch had balls. She was fucking bold.

Bitch must not know who she’s dealing with, Spin thought picking up the phone on his desk. He looked at K.C. and waited for him to hand him her number. Spin began dialing the number K.C. followed D-loc and Rod out of the office.

Spin sat listening to the phone ring. He thought it would go to voicemail but then someone picked up.

“Hello,” she said.

She sounded sexy. Spin tried to gage her voice to see if he could tell how she looked.

“Who’s this?” Spin asked.

“Who’s this?” the female echoed with an attitude.

“I asked first cuz.”

“First off you called my phone; now you obviously know who you looking fo’ that you called this number.”

“Let me talk to Shiesty Shi cuz,” Spin said getting upset.

“Don’t call my phone asking who I am nigga, you don’t pay naaa bill. When you call someone you say, ‘hello my name is…’ and then you ask may I speak with whopty whoop.

“Now, I’m hanging up; you can try again later.”

The line clicked. Spin stared at the phone. What the fuck? he thought. He was heated, but he had to laugh, who the fuck was that crazy hoe? I hope that ain’t Shiesty Shi Spin thought hitting redial.

The phone rang twice and then the same woman picked up again.

“Hello…”

She must be playing. Spin knew she had caller I.D. and that she knew who was calling.

“Hello,” Spin said and then biting his tongue said, “may I speak with Shiesty Shi?”

“May, I ask who’s calling?”

You may Spin thought and then decided to say his name. He knew once he made his presence known Shi would run to the phone, and there will be apologies. “Spin.”

“Oh, hey. This is Shi. How are you doing Spin?”

Spin could not believe the bitch was Shiesty Shi. He knew she knew who he was from the jump.

“You have some business for me?”

“Yes I do, I’d like to cop fifty pounds, and I got one hunit g’s…is that possible?”

“Of course my boys were ready to do business,” Spin said leaning back in his chair.

“And so was mine but I ain’t frontin’ fifty g’s Spin. Now we can do business or not, I got the money, you got the shit.”

Spin sighed, “Well we can work a little something out.”

“If ‘WE’ do then ‘WE’ need to show up, if ‘WE’ ain’t gonna show up then ‘WE’ can have ‘OUR’ people take care of this.”

Spin smiled, “If you wanted to see a nigga all you had to do was ask.”

The line was silent.

“I’d like to know who I’m doing business with.”

“How about tonight?”

“I’m busy.”

Spin looked at the phone and then put it back to his ear, “What?”

“I have something to do,” she said slowly. “How about tomorrow?”

“I’m busy,” Spin replied playing her game.

“Well you call me and let me know when you ain’t busy other than today, and I’ll see what my schedules like. Bye Spin.”

She hung up.

Spin was staring at the phone shocked. She showed no fear at all, and it made him wonder if she knew who she was fucking with.

“Who the fuck is this bitch?” he asked himself walking to the game room.

He sat down in recliner thinking about Shiesty Shi as Rod and K.C. played And1 Street Ball.

“So what happened?” K.C. asked not looking away from his game.

Before Spin could answer a loud Ding Dong echoed through the house. The game was paused, and everyone looked at one another.

Who the fuck is that? Spin wondered silently.

Sure he had a door bell, but that was the first it had ever been used. No one rang a door bell but people on television.

D-loc was sniffin’ a line off the bar.

Spin City was gated like T-money’s mansion. He did not have the security set up like T-money however when someone wanted in they had to press the button at the speaker box which Spin could answer in any of the many rooms. The speakers were equipped with a camera. Spin hadn’t heard the buzzer nor had he buzzed anyone through the gates.

Only a fool would attack him especially on his own turf.

Spin looked at D-loc who was shaking his head.

“Y’all expecting anyone?” Spin asked looking at Rod and K.C. as the doorbell Ding Donged again.

Everyone shook their heads.

D-loc pulled out his glock and sighed, “Don’t trip I’ll take care of it.”

He was walking out of the room mumbling.

The room was silent for a minute, and then K.C. looked at Spin as Rod un-paused the game.

“So…” he said turning back to the game.

“She said she was busy today,” Spin told him acting as if the doorbell had not interrupted the conversation.

“And… fuck that was a three…”

“Naw nigga a brick,” Rod shouted back at K.C.

“She hung up.” K.C. stopped and looked at Spin who said, “I’ll call back and talk to her later.”

“Spin we got a problem.”

Spin looked up at D-loc standing in the doorway to the game room.

“Wha-”

D-loc was pushed into the room, and Spin saw the gun. Instinctively he reached for his and so did K.C. and Rod forgetting all about the game.

Behind D-loc stepping in the doorway was a tall figure in a trench coat with a hoody. Spin noticed he had D-loc’s gun.

“Wrong house cuz,” Spin yelled heart pounding.

The figure kicked D-loc forward still pointing the gun.

“Oh I’m in the right place,” the figure said pulling off the hood.

Spin was shocked to see it was a woman. He began wondering was it Shiesty Shi. Her long burgundy hair fell to her shoulders and her brown eyes which were almost red glowed.

Smiling she let the gun twirl around her trigger finger and then tossed it to the floor.

“Sorry,” she said smiling her perfectly white smile. “The only way I could get yo’ attention.”

Spin heard the unmistakable southern accent. Still holding his gun he did not look as D-loc retrieved his.

“Well, what can we do for a pretty young woman like you,” Spin asked.

“It’s not what you can do for me,” she said taking off the trench coat, and the zip up hoody to reveal a nice body.

She had on skinny jeans with black knee high boots with heels. She had on a tight white tee with a longer black tee under it.

Flipping her hair she finished, “…it’s what I’m gonna do for you.

“Hello Spin, my name’s Clair…”

Chapter 40

My heart was fucking pounding. Spin had called me for the seventh time requesting a meeting and each time the nigga was getting bolder and bolder.

I had to remember that his ass was the enemy, but it was getting harder and harder to look at him that way. He was actually funny and very charming.

“You ever been to the Cheese Cake Factory?” he asked me his last call.

“No!” I answered. I was trying to be a bitch with my short answers.

“Well how ‘bout we meet there and talk business?”

I couldn’t help, but smile as I laughed, “With yo’ boys close by?”

“They can share a booth with your boys,” he said.

I was silent. Yes a bitch was really considering it. I mean it was a way to get close to him, and that was my goal…right?

“Would this be business or pleasure?”

“A little bit of both.”

“Well Spin I’m sorry, I don’t mix business with pleasure, and no I am not available to meet tomorrow. How about you think of giving me more than a few hours’ notice,” I said.

I really didn’t have anything better to do. At first I was biding time until we made the money we needed back. Now I was just fucking with him. It’s strange because I always thought of him as the inhuman monster who murdered my family or my brother at the very least but when I got on the phone with him. It was different. All of that was forgotten.

“What if you undercover?” he asked.

I knew from King that, that was the reason for the short notice. He did not want to give us time to set up the meeting place.

“That’s the risk you’re gonna have to take,” I smiled. Yes, a bitch was blushing and feeling like a little school girl. “Well Spin I gotta go. Bye…oh and I’m not five oh.”

I hung up the phone before he could respond.

I’d found myself looking forward to his calls. He always called me at the same time; nine o’clock p.m. and we always stayed on the phone at least thirty minutes depending on how I was feeling and what I was doing. I was staying with Vicky at her new apartment and loving it. We were making up for the lost years watching chick flicks, doing facials, painting our nails and shopping. We were treating life like one big sleep over and having quality time. Girl’s night every night. Our diet consisted of ice cream, pizza and popcorn.

A bitch was starting to feel like she was getting fat, so we started going to the twenty four hour gym on the same floor as Vicky’s at the end of the hall.

But no matter what I made time for my little conversations with Spin.

The day I decided to meet Spin was not my idea. Vicky and I were making our rounds. I was going to Court Yard at Bay Road to collect my money from the girls. When I got there something did not feel right.

Diamond smiled, and I could see something there. She handed me over five racks, and I would have left, but something made me look around. I don’t know I could tell my girls were troubled. I sat on the sofa determined to find whatever it was out.

I decided I wanted a little info.

“So, how’s things?”

Diamond sat down and crossed her legs. “Good, Vahlery and Sasha moved out Tuesday, but they both dropped off a g’ each.”

I nodded and then asked, “How’s Hope?” I was ready to run down the list of all my girls.

“She’s cool, her and Faith do a lot of work together since they started the double dates.”

I nodded again. “Tam?”

Diamond shrugged, “Tammy is, Tammy.” Diamond tried to smile.

“Where is Tammy? I wanna see her; we ain’t had a talk in forever.”

And I saw it. The bitch looked nervous. Diamond was good, a stone cold liar and manipulator. But after being around the bitch fo’ so long I knew when she was lying and hiding shit. She was a quick thinker, but when she was caught off guard it showed.

“She’s on a date.”

I smiled at Diamond and then got up and started towards the back of the apartment. She said nothing, she only followed me. I mean what could she say? I opened the first door and saw Fantasy-a tranny-and Serenity-a regular girl-wildly sleeping in the same bed. Nothing unusual there.

I walked to my old room which was slowly being converted into everyone’s room. Dime was sitting on my bed looking pissed. She was a real girl or shall I say born a woman. When she saw me her eyes widened.

“What’s up Piece?” I smiled.

“Hey S Square,” she said slowly.

I smiled Shiesty Shi or Double S or S Square as Dime called me. I noticed her voice was shaky.

“What’s going on-” I stopped short and turned around.

Dime was looking at diamond, and I had a feeling Diamond was doing something behind my back.

What the fuck was going on.

I saw the light on in the bathroom. I walked passed Diamond and pushed the door open. I was confused at what I saw. Tammy was standing over the sink quickly applying makeup to Double D’s face. They both turned to look at me.

“What the fuck happened?” I asked looking at Double D’s caked on makeup and swollen eye. “Diamond!” I yelled, and she was behind me.

“It’s okay Shi, I fell.”

“On your eye?” I yelled at Double D. No one responded, and I lifted my eyebrow. “Tell me how the fuck you fall on yo’ eye bitch. What you hit it on the door knob?”

“Shi, it’s not that bad,” Tammy said.

“Not that bad?” I yelled. I was getting fucking pissed really quick, “The bitch can’t see.”

“Shi it’s not what it looks like. It was a misunderstanding.”

I turned to look at Diamond. “A misunderstanding? That don’t look like no misunderstanding,” I yelled pointing at Double D. “That look like she got her ass beat-”

“Shi!”

It was Vicky. She’d been waiting for me in the car.

“Back here,” I yelled and we silently waited for her. When Vicky made it to the bathroom I said, “Come here Vick. What does that look like?” I was pointing at Double D who would not look at me.

“It looks like someone beat her up.”

“What? That’s what I said, but they tell me it’s a misunderstanding, not an ass whooping.”

Diamond sighed loudly, “This is why we didn’t want to tell you.”

“Well you still ain’t told me so why don’t you start with who the fuck did that?”

No one spoke. So I sucked my teeth and stormed off towards the living room. I grabbed the note book we logged the dates in and began flipping through it. Everyone was behind me as I found Double D’s last date. Her last date was the night before with someone named SW with a five one oh area code. He had to be the one who did it. I was sure her ass didn’t go on no dates looking like that not even with makeup. The problem was I wanted them to tell me.

“Who was it?”

“He didn’t know she was a tranny Shi,” Tammy tried me.

“Bull motha fuckin’ shit bitch!” I said. I was fucking heated. “All y’all ads say what y’all is unless Diamond left that out.” Diamond mugged me when I said that. “I didn’t think so, and since it wasn’t our error I won’t even consider any other excuse. I don’t care if the nigga can’t read or only know text talk, his illiterate ass should have told you he was cool and let you on yo’ merry way. Now which one is he? SW?”

No one said anything. I tucked the notebook under my arm.

“Double D, I’m auditing you and I’m gonna call ‘eryone up in here starting with SW and fuck they ass up. Hell I’m bound to get the right nigga.”

Her one eye got big. Most of their customers were not only repeats but on the down low. Drama scared them, they didn’t want people knowing, and if I beat someone’s ass then Double D would lose clients.

“It’s him,” I heard Dime say. “His name is Sick Wid It; they met at room six-o-five at the Oakland Marriott by the airport.”

I nodded and dropped the notebook and made a beeline for the door.

“Shi don’t do nothing dumb, this nigga is like six foot three, three hun—”

I slammed the door behind me and went straight to my car. Vicky was behind me in seconds. I popped the trunk and lifted up the compartment for the spare tire praying that nigga was still at the room. I grabbed the balled up shirt closed the trunk and tossed Vicky the keys. “We’re going to the Marriott in Oakland by the airport, you drive.”

She got in started the car and drove. I waited ‘til we was on the Dumbarton Bridge before I opened the shirt. I took the nine-millimeter I got from King for the bank robberies out. I took out the clip which I filled after the robberies.

Vicky was starting at me and trying to watch the road at the same time. I took the clip out and emptied it into the shirt and then put the clip back in. There was one bullet still in the chamber. That was all I would need. I didn’t wanna get carried away.

“Shi? What are you gonna do?”

The truth was I had no idea what I was going to do. I’d never shot anyone before, but the adrenaline made me fearless and feel I was capable.

We got to Oakland at three and by three twenty I tapped on room six-o-five with my gun. I could see the peephole darken as someone looked out. I had no doubt that the nigga would open the door. I mean what could a five six one hundred and forty five pound bitch with long hair in a sundress with flip flops do?

The door opened a little, the chair lock was on.

“What?”

“I’m looking fo’ Sick Wid It,” I said in my best ignorant ghetto bitches voice.

“What?”

“You Sick Wid It?”

“Yeah, who you?”

I smiled and stepped back a little. I could see his big black ass nose through the crack in the door. Taking a deep breath I put all my strength in my foot and kicked the door. The lock broke, and the door hit him in the face.

“Fuck!” he yelled.

I walked in scared as hell and shut the door behind me. The room was dark, but I could see. I reached and turned on a light. I didn’t have time for my eyes to really adjust to the darkness.

The room was a mess. He had a gun, it fell when the door hit him. I hurriedly swooped it and pointed both of them at him. My foot was killing me, but the adrenaline kept me going.

“Crazy bitch,” he said looking up at me.

You have no idea, I thought.

The man was huge. “Sit yo’ big ass down. We need to talk.”

He sat down but I had a feeling he didn’t like being told what to do by a woman and a gun.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Hi Sick Wid It, I’m Shi,” I smiled leaning against a wall.

“Shi?”

“Yes as in Shiesty Shi, Simply Shi, as in Shi Girls, you know one of the girls you hit?”

“That wasn’t no bitch.”

“She looks like one.”

“That’s a fuckin’ nigga.”

“And you knew that when you called and asked for her.”

He was shaking his head. “Homie said y’all had some pretty bitches-”

I sighed loudly. He looked at me with his yellow nasty ass looking eyes.

“Bitch is, so derogatory…it’s like really degrading to women, let’s call them beezies.”

I waved my hand indicating he could continue his story.

“I called for a bi— beezy and the bi—” he groaned loud clearly frustrated. A gun in yo’ face held by a crazy bitch-oh my bad beezy, a gun in your face held by a crazy beezy-is a good motivator.

“She told me about the other beezy, and I said I wanted her.”

“Are you telling me we failed to notify you that said beezy was packin’?” I thought that was a nice way to say a gender challenged individual. What about you?

He looked at me.

“Anywhere in the conversation or description did you hear the words T and S?”

He just stared at me.

“What does T.S. mean Mr. Wid It?”

He swallowed.

The nigga was fucking huge. His hand could cup my entire head, and I knew if he got the chance… yeah, I’d be gone. Hell he’d probably eat me after. However, at that moment he looked like a big baby.

“I take it you do know the lingo seeing as it ain’t no secret Simply Shi has transsexuals as well as real girls. And even if you did not know when you found out you should have simply kicked the bitch out, hell, don’t pay her.”

I took a step towards him and began to speak in a sympathetic tone.

“I just wanted to talk to you, I didn’t mean it to go down like this, but I hate it when people hit on smaller people.”

He nodded and said, “It was a misunderstanding, I’m sorry.”

I smiled and so did he. His yellow ass teeth were disgusting. The nigga was waiting to pounce, but I did before he could.

“Then I apologize to you for this misunderstanding,” I slapped the shit out of him with his own gun. He turned towards me, and I brought the butt of it into his eye. His fat ass screamed like a bitch grabbing his face.

Oh my fucking God.

The feeling I had, the violence almost made me nutt. I had to physically restrain myself.

“I hope you didn’t misunderstand that,” I yelled.

I turned to leave with both guns in my hands.

“The fuck you the pimp?” he screamed holding his eye with one hand.

I turned around and I don’t know. It was automatic. I’d been debating shooting the nigga. Just to see how it felt to shoot someone. When I saw his big ass hunched over looking up at me, I remember Double D and how she looked.

Keep yo’ hands to yo’self, I thought and shot the nigga right through the top of his left hand. He was screaming loudly. I headed to the door in a hurry but before I left I turned and said, “And Shiesty Shi ain’t no pimp… But, I’m something like one.” I slammed the door liking my little dramatic movie line.

When I left I almost fell, my legs were so unsteady. But the adrenaline had me on one. I hurried to the car. It was Oakland, I didn’t think no one called the cops but if they did hell Lord knows when they’d arrive. Damn, so why was I rushing?

Vicky was staring at me as I climbed into the car breathing heavily.

“Shi, that shit was scary. I thought you was hurt.”

“Let’s go,” I said as my phone rang.

It was King. “Shi what the hell’s going on? Vicky called me talking ‘bout you was gonna kill someone.”

I smiled and put my feet up on the dashboard. “Don’t worry its good. What’s up?”

“I was calling to see what’s going on with Spin.”

“Oh we’re still working out our meeting.”

“Shi, you been cupcakin’ with that nigga fo’ almost a month.” The tone of his voice told me he was jealous. I smiled, but it didn’t make me feel good.

“Okay, Okay when’s a good time for you?” I said sarcastically.

“Tell um we’ll meet him on Tuesday and Shi make sure it’s a crowded place just in case.”

“‘kay anything else?” I asked voice still dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, I think we need to do this on our turf.”

Where the hell was we gonna go in East Palo Alto? The library? McDonalds? Ikea?

“So, you wanna set it up at Three Brothers on University?”

He sighed, “Cute Shi. How about downtown?”

Downtown Palo Alto? I shrugged and said, “I’ll call you back in ten.”

I hung up and rolled my eyes.

“Home?” Vicky asked, and I nodded.

I found Spin’s cell number with ease since we talked like all the time.

“What’s good lil’ mah?”

I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m craving cheesecake.”

He laughed, “And so you call me?”

“You offered.”

“You don’t mix business with pleasure-”

“On an empty stomach,” I smiled as he laughed. “Besides it’s more business. So majority wins.” I knew I was flirting, and I guess King was right, I was cupcakin’.

“It’s yo’ world baby girl. When we gonna do this?”

“Tuesday. You free?”

“If not I will be.”

“Awe, fo’ me?”

He laughed, “You crazy Shi.” Damn, second time in the last hour, maybe I was a little off. What you think? “‘ight you got a time?”

“Eight? Nine?”

“Nine is cool; do you need me to come swoop you?”

I laughed, “Spin I’m buying weed from you, this ain’t no date. Besides I’m closer to the Cheesecake Factory.”

“Huh? Where… you already in the City? I—”

“No, there’s one in Downtown Palo Alto.” He was silent, and I knew all sorts of danger and warning signs were going off in his head, but before he could protest I said in a sing song voice, “See you Tuesday at nine,” and hung up.

Chapter 41

The apartment complex was located down the street from the Oakland Bart Station. MacArthur Station was closed, and the night was cold.

The apartment was number thirteen on the second floor.

The place was leased to Gretchen Winslow; Pam Jones’s grandmother. Pam was one of the many cookers for Spin. She cooked his crack and rocked it up. After his last visit in which she was lucky to escape with her life she was a little shaky at the least.

Spin had scared her when he put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest as he continued his sick game of Russian roulette. When she heard the click of the last chamber she pissed herself…literally.

She was sitting in the front room with all the lights on when she heard the knock on the door. A crack head she thought ignoring it. They came by at all hours to buy from her. She was usually sleep and would not hear the door about then, so she left it alone.

There came another loud knock, and she did not move. She would wait it out. After five minutes of straight knocking Pam got up to look in the peep hole.

No one was there, but she still heard knocking.

Scary shit she thought. Fuck that I ain’t opening it.

Pam turned around and saw the window next to the television was open and blowing air, moving the curtains.

What the fuck? she thought walking over to close it.

The knocking stopped after the window closed.

Sighing Pam walked down the short hall to her bedroom. She had no idea why she couldn’t sleep. But she decided to lie down and try again.

Pam walked into the room and didn’t notice the door closing slowly behind her. She sat on her bed and began taking her clothes off hoping a good shower would relax her enough to put her to sleep.

Pam took off her shirt and stood to take off her pants. She turned to her left and standing before her was a white woman in powder blue silk pajama bottoms and a white tee shirt.

“God!” Pam screamed grabbing her chest.

Pam was coming back to reality and was about to go bad on the white bitch when the woman said, “You don’t have to call me God when we’re alone Pam.” Then her hand moved around quickly, and Pam tried to follow. There was something metal and shiny swinging around rapidly in her hand.

Pam realized it was a butterfly knife as her hand came to a halt. The white woman swung the knife quickly slicing Pam’s neck. Pam’s last thought before she died was why am I on the ground?

Flipping the knife closed Helen walked to the kitchen looking for a black trash bag.

Chapter 42

D-loc and K.C. rode to Pam’s house to collect. It was already dark, but the sun was still half way up.

D-loc pulled his gold Hummer2 in front of the building and double parked. He reached into the arm rest, grabbed his nine and the bag of coke. He dipped the finger nail he’d grown for this very reason inside and pulled out a little pile.

Holding it to his nose he plugged one nostril and snorted. His head shot back on the headrest, and he waited as the drug picked him up.

He didn’t need it he told himself. He was just having fun.

When he felt the little peek of energy he shivered and shook his head.

“Let’s go,” he said a little too loud. K.C. stared at him. “What?” he asked.

K.C. shook his head and got out of the car. D-loc followed putting his gun in his waist band.

They walked to Pam’s apartment, K.C. knocked on the door.

“You heard what happened to Villa and his bitch?” D-loc asked K.C.

“Young Pac fucked her…”

D-loc’s eyes got big, “Naw.”

“Yeah, nigga what was you talking ‘bout?”

“Bruce-Bruce,” D-loc said.

“Damn baby girl’s a hoe, Rod was up in it too,” K.C. said. “The bad part is Villa don’t know ‘bout it. She only there taking his money.”

“Damn, Mah was born with a dick in her,” D-loc laughed. “But yeah, I’m talking ‘bout Villa just got out and she pregnant.”

K.C. looked at D-loc and started laughing.

D-loc pounded on the door.

“I’m comin’,” he heard her yell and then the door swung open. “If y’all ain’t the police then y’all need to calm y’all happy asses down.”

D-loc was stuck. She was well tanned and mixed with something other than Mexican. Black? Maybe, white? Her hair was pulled into a long black high pony tail, and her blue eyes shone brighter because of her hair color. She was perfect with a small earring in her nose.

She wore no makeup and looked flawless. D-loc looked down at her spaghetti strap t-shirt which stopped above her navel. Her breasts were perfect for her body and perky.

She can’t have on no bra, he thought looking down at the black cutoff jeans with the pockets showing.

“Who the fuck is you?” K.C. was the first to speak.

“The fuck is you nigga?” she shot back, and D-loc bit his lip as he got hard.

K.C. walked in moving the girl back by force. “Where’s Pam?”

D-loc followed.

“What the fuck? Get out!”

“Shut up bitch,” K.C. yelled. “Where the fuck is Pam?”

“Bitch? Nigga you’s the bitch. I’m gonna-” K.C. grabbed her by both arms. “Let me go!”

He took one hand and grabbed his gun as D-loc closed the door. He placed it to her temple, “I said shut up… bitch.”

She was silent, her wide eyes scared. And D-loc thought she looked even better. He’d made up his mind that he wanted her, and he’d have her too. He was debating whether it’d be by will or force when he grabbed K.C.

“Aye cuz, let me handle this.”

K.C. reluctantly moved his gun and walked off.

“Hey,” D-loc said stepping up to her. She had to be five eight because he was five eleven and she was almost his height. “I’m D-loc,” he said putting out his hand.

Fuck she is fine, he thought.

“I’m Ariel, Ari,” she said nervously shaking his hand.

D-loc could smell her fruity perfume and the contact with her soft hands was driving him crazy.

“That’s K.C. Don’t trip off him he ain’t too happy, we looked fo’ Pam she lives here.”

Ari nodded, “I’m her cousin. She asked me to watch her place ‘til she get back.”

D-loc nodded and smiled. Ari smiled uneasily, and he could tell she was nervous. And it turned him on even more. He loved it when they were scared.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

She shrugged and said, “I don’t know, but that bitch need to come on. She been gone for a few days already, and I ain’t heard from the hoe. Ain’t even answering her phone.”

D-loc nodded thinking they were going to have to kill Pam. She more than likely stole they shit and the money and ran. But D-loc asked anyway, “Did she leave anything for us?”

Ari looked at him but did not answer right away. Then she squinted, “I don’t think so.”

“She didn’t leave nothing for Spin?”

“Huh? Oh! Oh! That’s y’all? Shit I’m sorry, I thought y’all was crack heads and then when he pulled out the gun-” she was laughing. D-loc couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful she was. “I thought y’all was gonna rob me. Yeah, she left shit and-” She looked shy. “I hope you don’t mind I cooked it and-”

“You can cook?”

She shrugged, and D-loc smiled.

She walked over to the sofa and lifted the middle seat cushion. K.C. watched on uninterested. She came back with a stack of money.

“I sold it all.” D-loc blinked. Pam never sold it all. “Five grand,” she said and he took it looking amazed.

“Aye,” he said and gave her two g’s. “You wanna make that every week?” She looked at him. “You can take Pam’s spot, we’ll deal with it if or when she comes back.” D-loc knew it was her cousin, but money was money. She took the money, “What do I do?”

“What you just did babe. Make money,” D-loc smiled then waved to K.C. so they could leave. “We’ll be back with mo’e,” he said. “We gonna be seeing a lot of each other.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

D-loc smiled at her. “What’s your number?”

She gave it to him biting her lip seductively.

“I’ll holla,” he said leaving.

She closed the door after he left and put her back to it breathing deeply to calm her nerves. She walked to the kitchen where she pulled out her phone. She pressed three and call.

“Hello,” the woman answered.

“It’s me. I made contact,” she said.

“How was it?”

“The nigga’s a love sick puppy,” she said.

“Good, keep in touch Brit.”

Chapter 43

I had on an all-white fitted Vera Wang pants suit. It was custom fitted and hugged everything. Underneath I wore a black lace push up bra and that thing had my breasts on tens. My breasts and stomach were visible, but I still looked professional… yet sexy.

I had on open toed black Gucci heels. I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail. It was getting time for a touch up, but with oil sheen and ceramic flat iron I was still doing it.

I’d debated bangs but decided to go without.

It took me four hours to get ready.

I wore dark eye liner and fake lashes. I highlighted my cheeks with my foundation and blush. I was doing a natural look but still a bitch had to smoke her eyes out for the Gods. The dark makeup made my skin glow and my eyes pop.

Let me tell you something. When you forget something, you forget. And when you remember something, its memories can be painful.

I was looking at myself in the mirror I had on silver earrings which hung like chandeliers. Vicky came into the room. She’d been angry because she wanted to go, but I said it was way too dangerous. And that made her really wanna go. She had not been part of my preparations because she called herself being mad. I was standing in the mirror when she came in.

“Sexy,” she smiled.

I didn’t turn around to look as she walked up behind me in the mirror. I had to be sexy; this was a major part of my plan. I was already in good with Spin; at least I hoped I was. All I needed now was his nose wide enough. I had no idea how I’d ask or approach the situation, but I’d find a way when the time was right.

“Missing one thing,” Vicky said reaching around me in a backwards hug.

She was putting a necklace around my neck. I was smiling until I looked down and saw the platinum heart. My heart stopped as my smile dropped and then faded. I felt a sting, and I forced myself not to cry. Hell, I willed myself. I’ll be damned if I fucked off the makeup that took me an hour to apply.

I hadn’t seen the necklace since Juvenile hall over four years ago and while I was trying to ignore my hurt I’d slipped it outside my mind.

It was clasped around my neck, and I felt a weight. I took a deep breath. It would keep me focused on my goal. I looked up at Vicky and smiled.

My phone rang. It was King and time to go.

Chapter 44

King fitted me with a nine. He gave me his shoulder holster. I tucked the gun under my suit jacket.

“Shi, I know you know how to hold one. Remember I taught you? If you have to use it just remember it has a kick…”

I nodded dumbly as he explained how to use a gun to me. I hadn’t told him or Vicky about B.I.T.C.H. and what they taught me back then since I was in so much pain and before I could heal off to work and then…

If only he knew.

We were at the Cheesecake Factory at eight thirty. When we got to the door I saw Diamond dressed as Chris. I looked at King.

“Sexy,” Chris said smiling.

I looked at Diamond and then King again as he said, “Meet Goldie. It’s more than likely gonna be four of them. I was trying to even the odds.”

I nodded, and we went inside.

We were seated in the back and told the waitress we had people meeting us.

The Cheesecake Factory was huge and very fancy looking. The nicest looking restaurant I’d seen. The dark atmosphere was I guess supposed to be romantic, but it was scary to me.

We all sat at the booth together.

“You okay?” I looked at King my heart pounding. I guess he picked up on the way I was feeling because he said, “You can do this Shi.”

I was nodding. I would do it since there was no other option.

King had been eyeing me all night, and I knew he wanted me. But I’ve yet to have consensual sex, and I didn’t know what to do or even if I was ready.

I didn’t even know if I could do it.

“I-” I stopped as the waitress who seated us led a small group towards us.

Damn it black people are so damn obvious. If them motha fuckas wasn’t drug dealers then I don’t know what they were. Dressed in baggy clothes with chains and watches. I mean the niggas looked like thugs.

The Mexican one had a long pony tail with hella rubber bands holding it down. When they got to our table my heart stopped. I recognized three of them, and I prayed they didn’t recognize me. The last time I saw them was in a nightmare about seven months ago.

Spin stood behind them like he was using them as a shield. They moved aside and he came into view as King, Chris and I stood.

My heart skipped as it tried to beat.

Spin didn’t look anything like I remembered. The nigga was fine. He was dark skinned with a shadow fade and ice pick sideburns. His light brown eyes stood out amongst the dark skin. His features were soft yet hard, and he reminded me of Morris Chestnut.

I could tell somewhere under all the fabric he was wearing there was a nice body. Spin was fucking fine, sexy as hell.

He smiled and his platinum grill which was iced out gleamed. I was damn near close to checking my pants to see if they were wet too, because I shoe nuff was.

“Shi?” he asked, and I smiled and put out my hand.

His voice was deeper than it had been on the phone. It was like water as he spoke.

He grabbed my hand not hard but firmly and shook it as I said, “Spin.”

He looked me up and down, “So nice to finally meet you. These are my patnas D-loc, K.C. and Rod.”

Though I knew D-loc’s name because he was so kind to introduce himself before he raped me, the other two who took their turns and or held me down weren’t so courteous. K.C. didn’t take part in the actual raping. His job and participation was holding me down.

I swallowed hard as I met their gazes. I was fucking relieved when I realized they did not recognize me. Whether it was because the makeover or because no one remembered the hoes they beat and raped I have no idea.

D-loc gave me a lustful look, and I almost vomited. I’m not saying the nigga was bad looking like Rod was but usually when you’re raped you don’t see the nigga as a saint. Hell, or anything human for that matter. D-loc reached out his hand to shake mine, and I could not bear to touch him. I didn’t want his dirty ass touching me. So I turned like I didn’t see his attempt and said, “These are my peoples, Goldie and King.”

Sups were exchanged. Oh my God Chris was a boy. The way he was acting they would have never knew he was gay or lived life as a female and to be honest he’d make some woman happy. He didn’t look that bad.

“‘ight, Shi you don’t mind if I search them?” Spin asked.

“Not at all if you don’t mind y’all being searched, especially in this crowded restaurant,” I smiled and he was shocked. I mean come on this wasn’t the damn God Father or some damn mob movie. “What are you searching for? We didn’t carry a hunit racks up in here like you didn’t carry my shit up in this place.”

“Well, for pieces, see if they packin’.”

“Are y’all?”

He looked at his homies who I was trying my fucking hardest to keep from shooting. The hate was turning to rage, and I had to stop lookin’ at them or else I would not have been responsible for my actions.

“Look Spin, y’all packin’ and so are we. Not only is it four on three but we’re responsible enough not to accidentally shoot no one. Are y’all?” I was speaking very calmly and smiling. He was thinking, and I knew I’d have to keep on talking. I mean I didn’t care to be honest, I’d just walk out. I was not letting them take my gun, hell or King’s or Chris’. Shit I wasn’t letting them niggas touch me. “I take that as a yes. Now let’s sit down all the white people are starting to stare.”

Chapter 45

The meeting was the hardest shit, no, the most uncomfortablest shit, hell the most hardest most uncomfortablest shit I done ever been through in my life.

It was technically a first impression type of thing. Sure we practically knew each other from our phone calls, but it was our first time meeting in person. The first impression rule still applied. I had to be Shiesty Shi for more than thirty minutes this time.

I was this no nonsense gangsta bitch. I had to be on my toes constantly. I had to be better than the men. Because I was a woman I had more to prove and because I was beautiful respect would not come easily.

I had Spin distracted with my breasts the entire night. Nevertheless we had a very nice meal which I insisted on splitting with him since it wasn’t a date, and because I didn’t need him or his money. I had my own. I fielded questions and kept them away from personal topics, it wasn’t a date.

We concluded our business and the weed and money traded hands during the course of our meal. We never left the table; our people took care of that. It all went smooth. I ordered an Oreo Cheesecake to go because them things go. I declined taking a walk with him and talking more though I did want to. We did not only talk weed and what I was doing and wanted to do. He asked if I wanted to work for him, I no thank youed him because I was not selling drugs as a career, just until I got something, and no, I wouldn’t tell him what that something was. That was personal.

And we were not on a date.

Neither were we on a date the second or the third or even the fourth time we went out. We were not accompanied by our crews and I still paid my half.

“I don’t want to get use to anyone paying my way, ain’t nothing free.”

He didn’t argue with that.

It wasn’t until the fifth date that he made a proposal. “How about you pay for me, take me on a date and then the next time I pay for you.”

I smiled. It was cute, and that was the only reason I agreed. And once I said yes it was settled. After five meetings over the course of three months we were going on a date. I kept King busy with the weed; we had more than enough. I doctored it up, and I kept him and the girls selling. We were making a grip too. At the rate we were going we’d more than double what we paid.

Hiding my dates with Spin was somewhat easy. I lied my ass off to Vicky, and for the most part she believed me. King, I just flat out did not tell unless he asked. Then I told him I was set to go out with him to test the water, but I told him I was going to cancel. To his knowledge we’d only seen one another one other time. King was too scared and paranoid, not wanting me to get hurt and all.

But Spin wouldn’t hurt me. The nigga was wide open.

Chapter 46

“She did what?” Spin could not believe his ears. Rod was smiling, and D-Loc was laughing while K.C. and Clair sat stone faced. “What do you mean?” Spin asked again. He was not angry though Sick Wit It worked for him and he was short on money because of his absence.

Spin didn’t care for Sick Wit It. Sick Wit It worked for T-money and as soon as T-money died he began badmouthing him. Most of the others who worked closely with T-money were killed or went off doing their own things. Only the nickel and dimers who worked for T-money remained since they had never met him nor had any real ties. All they cared about was their money, not where the shit came from.

“She shot him,” D-Loc managed to get out between a laugh.

“Where? I, is he dead?”

Rod shook his head trying his hardest to get what he had out without laughing again. “Word is he beat one of them fags she workin’.”

“And so she shot him?” Spin joined in laughing with Rod and D-Loc.

K.C. and Clair’s face still had no humor on it.

“She gave him a matching shiner,” K.C. said causing Spin, Rod and D-loc to laugh even harder.

Spin couldn’t help but smile. Sick Wit It outweighed Shi by at least three hundred pounds and was so much taller than her it was a shame. Either he was a real bitch which Spin didn’t doubt or Shi was really gangsta. He guessed both, and it turned him on, making him want her even more.

Though it was not officially said, they were dating. Spin really liked her to the point where she made him nervous. She made his stomach uneasy, and that never happened to him around any female, so he knew there had to be something about her.

He’d talked to her every day and to-the-lefted the other bitches he was fucking. He was investing all his time and energy into Shi. She was different, self-made and best of all not like the other hoes; she was not a gold digger. They’d been dating or going out for over six months and she still insisted on paying her own way. She was a strong woman sort of like Clair, and he liked that.

“I cannot get use to your lifestyle,” she’d told him. He had bought her shit that he’d seen at the mall and jewelry stores. And all the things were now in a room upstairs for storage. She wouldn’t accept any spontaneous or expensive gifts, and Spin knew she wouldn’t accept any gift from him. She was proud and could hold and handle her own; not to mention a fucking piece.

Spin thought she was sexy; fucking fine and her personality only made her looks all the more better. Though she acted tough and gangsta she was down to earth and very respectful. She was funny, and Spin caught himself laughing and smiling whenever he say her number and before she even picked up the phone. The thing that intrigued Spin the most was the fact that it was not about sex. Yes, Shi was sexy, and he wanted her in his bed, but he could wait. It seemed like they had all the time in the world. He didn’t want her in his bed just for sex or a night. No, he wanted her to always be there. He wanted to see her when he woke up and when he went to sleep.

Spin could not remember the last time he had butterflies or been in love with a woman. He didn’t know if it was love. For the past seven years bitches had not played a part in his life. He was on a paper chase and now that he caught it he was making up for lost time by fucking everything moving. He was until he met Shi that is. She was always on his mind, and it was driving him crazy. He’d already made up his mind he wanted her, but he didn’t know how to approach her or if he did what she’d say.

Spin wasn’t the type to take ‘no’ for an answer at all, but if she said, “No,” he’d accept it and keep trying.

“So?” Spin looked at K.C. as he asked, “What you gonna do about her?”

“Well looks like Sick got what he deserved, but I’ll talk to her and let her know she can’t be pickin’ on my employees,” Spin said laughing along with Rod and D-Loc.

Clair shook her head. Spin was acting funny, and all over a bitch. Bitches came, and bitches went, but he was not letting Shi go. Clair saw her as a threat and danger to Spin since she found out about her. She sat back watching helplessly as Spin opened up to her. It’s a mistake she thought having no idea exactly how she would handle it. Whatever she did, she knew Shi had to go.

Chapter 47

I told King about Spin's birthday party, and he insisted on attending with me. I couldn’t stop Vicky from going because I made the mistake of telling her where it was, and she’s a grown woman, she could go to Sweet Jimmie’s, and she was twenty one and older. But I still tried.

“Vicky these men are dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She wasn’t havin’ it. I’d told her I’d seen the men that raped me and since then she really did not like the idea of me being around them or Spin.

“Shi, the only way my half black ass is staying here is if yo’ black ass is sittin’ next to me,” she told me while applying make-up effortlessly.

We all rode together and the shit made me so fucking uncomfortable. I told Vicky everything and King nothing. But the issue was both did not know I’d been dating Spin for eight months. He’d asked me to move in and all but I couldn’t do that. I told him I needed my space and my freedom and my independence. I kept telling myself I’d tell Vicky and King. I mean it was all part of my plan.

Wasn’t it?

I was so fucked. I mean we hadn’t had sex, but we kissed. We spent nights together at the East Palo Alto Marriott. We’d lie together just talking. There was one tense moment a while back when he asked me what my government was.

I stared at him. “Scheyenne,” I told him nervously.

“Scheyenne what?” he smiled down at me.

I took a deep breath. I could easily have lied and told the nigga a fake last name but…call a bitch wild. Y’all know I like living on the edge. I looked his ass in his eyes and said, “Iverson.”

My heart skipped a beat as I saw a spark in his eyes. They widened, and I waited fo’ his move. A bitch was ready. I’da went for the nine but not yet, I was waiting for him.

“Like the ball player?” he smiled.

I was shocked but managed to nod.

“Allen Iverson?”

I nodded.

After that he asked about my life and aspirations. He got the hint that the past was off limits real fast. I told him about selling drugs so I could go to cosmetology school and open my own shop. It was a pipe dream I know, but I liked it. Spin told me if I’d let him he could make it all happen. But I told him no.

Now there I was in the car with Vicky and King. How the fuck was I gonna keep my secret a secret? I thought I could.

Sweet Jimmie’s was a club on a corner in Oakland. The music was loud as hell.

I was wearing a black Prada wrap around dress with sling back heels. My accessories were pearls, and my hair was done up and let down a little. You know one of them old white people dues, I was channeling my elegance. The make-up was a mixture of dark and light. I had a .22-bought by King-strapped to my upper thigh.

Vicky had on pants and a tee but was rocking the fuck out of it.

I got into V.I.P. in the back, and I knew there was no way in hell I’d successfully get through the night without Vicky or King knowing.

When I spotted Spin, I saw some ole long haired light skinned bitch all up on him. She was practically naked, and her body was on point, but that wasn’t the point. I made a beeline over to the sofa. The girls back was to me. She was on her knees in front of him laughing. “You so crazy. So birthday boy where’s yo’ bitch?” I heard her say.

“Right behind you,” I yelled over the music folding my arms.

Spin looked at me. I had no fucking idea why I was getting all territorial especially when I was trying to keep our relationship a secret. Spin smiled at me, but I was focused on the hoe. I was ‘bout to have to get gangsta on the bitch. She turned her head and stood up. Our eyes locked, and my mouth dropped.

“Sup baby,” Spin called getting up and hugging me. He kissed me on my cheek and said, “This is—”

“—Rita,” the woman said staring into my eyes.

I knew I wasn’t crazy.

“Rita, this is my girl Shi,” Spin introduced us.

The last time I saw this bitch her name was not no Rita. But I played it off and shook her hand with a smile. King and Vicky were now at my side, and I introduced them all.

“I heard so much about yo’ fine ass Vicky,” Spin said. Vicky gave a fake smile. “Anything y’all want put it on my tab.”

Vicky turned on heels, and left and King wished him Happy Birthday and bounced. Rita had moved on, and I sat next to my man on the sofa confused. My mind and heart was louder than the music. I was stuck just thinking. Why was I jealous? Was I jealous?

“You okay?” Spin asked. I looked at him and smiled. “You didn’t even say Happy Birthday.”

“Happy Birthday.”

He rolled his eyes, and I laughed. I saw King lurking around staring at us. Then I saw another familiar face. Her dark skin and short hair caught my eye in the dark club. She was hanging all over Rod. Then that pig ass nigga D-Loc came by and introduced us to his girlfriend and Spin’s newest employee.

My mind was going on over drive.

Ari?

Naw, I knew this bitch, and she knew me. She didn’t take her eyes off me as they talked to Spin. It wasn’t until I saw K.C. through the V.I.P. at the bar with another familiar face that I got up.

“I’ll be back. I wanna go check on Vicky.” Spin nodded standing up. “No, let me. I’ll be back.” I stood up quick and bumped into someone. “Sorry,” I said turning to see a very beautiful young looking light skinned girl. She spilled her drink on her shirt. She looked down and then up at me with eyes that seemed to glow red. She took a deep breath; the hoe was muggin’ the fuck out of me.

“Aye Clair, this is Shi,” Spin said from next to me. Her mouth dropped as she looked at him then me.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

She lifted a nicely arched brow. I wondered where she got her shit done at, though I already didn’t like the bitch, and not just because she could be one of Spin’s hoes.

“Clair is the first lady of my dynasty,” Spin smiled.

She looked smug.

Okay, girls know when girls don’t like one another even when niggas miss it. So, I politely rolled my eyes and said, “Excuse me.”

I walked to the bar and stood next to the girl who was staring at K.C. a few seats down from him. Before I could speak someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and saw Ari.

“Hey Shi,” she yelled over the music.

“Where’s Helen?” I asked knowing where the other four were.

Charika turned around and saw me talking to Brittany. “What are you doing here?” she yelled over the music.

“I was gonna ask y’all the same question Charika.”

“Sorry the names Vi.”

I lifted my eyebrow, “Cute.”

I was really confused as to why B.I.T.C.H. was in the club.

Coincidence?

Naw. I couldn’t believe that.

A few seconds later I saw I’esha come over followed by Tamekia. “What are you doing here?” they both yelled.

Rita or Tamekia as I remembered her had her hands on her hips.

“Same as y’all, enjoyin’ the party,” I said innocently.

“With Spencer?” Tamekia asked.

I wanted to know why she had so much interest in him. B.I.T.C.H. did not strike me as the type to hit on guys and go out of their way to a get them; especially not Spencer. Something was going on.

D-loc came over as we all started arguing trying to get the other to tell why they were there. We stopped instantly, he grabbed Brittany and said, “We’ll be back.” I steadied myself and returned to the V.I.P. Vicky met me at the door.

“I don’t like his ass Shi,” she said as Spin came toward us.

“Me either,” I lied faking a smile.

Spin took me out on the dance floor. I was nervous as hell. A bitch didn’t know how to dance. But I saw enough videos to fake my way to the top. I hoped I was freakin’ right and poppin’ it right. I guess I was. I was sweating, and I was tired. We turned to the V.I.P., and I fell on the couch. I got some water.

“I’ll be back,” Spin said.

King found me. He sat down. “Y’all look kinda cozy.”

I looked at him and rolled my eyes. I was secure with my Mac makeup. It was new and would not start running. I rolled my eyes. “Are you enjoying the party or just watching me?”

He blinked. I was holding onto my heart necklace when Vicky came over. “Don’t forget he’s the enemy,” King said. He was so fine especially when he was jealous.

“And that’s why I’m keeping him close,” I commented.

He just stared at me and so did Vicky. I had a feeling they’d already had the intervention planned. Mac Dre had everybody thizzin’, but the look on King’s face was not because he smelled piss. He was heated. He was about to speak when the music stopped.

A slow song played in the background. The Dj yelled, “yo’ it’s the nigga Spin’s birthday.” Everyone yelled. “Yay, he got a few words.”

I saw Spin. “I wanna thank y’all for coming and kickin’ it.” Everybody yelled. Then he said, “Shi! Where you at?”

I stood up looking confused. I saw that bitch Clair hawkin’ me. Vicky and King followed me to the main dance floor.

“There she is,” he said when he saw me. He was up at the Dj’s booth. I looked up at him feeling my arms noticing everyone looking at me.

“Aye, that’s my girl, and I’m tellin’ y’all she got a nigga,” I smiled. “Look, I’ma stop the mushy shit in a minute. Shi, I wanna wake up to you every morning. I’ll treat you right, yo’ dreams are mine and together we can meet them. Fuck it I’m getting nervous, aye Shi will you take my last name?”

My mouth dropped, and the club was dead silent. I looked at King and then Vicky who were both wide eyed staring at me. I looked back up at Spin’s scared expression. He was biting his lip and staring at me, he looked like he was bracing himself for my no.

"It’s the man’s birthday Shi; give him his wish,” the Dj. yelled into the mic.

“Scheyenne, I love you and I really do want to spend my life with you. I swear Shi, I’ll be yo’ friend first. I ain’t never felt this way about no one. You got a nigga wide open, no lies, and no secrets. I—” he stopped.

I wasn’t thinking, I was lost. Was he serious? In front of all these people?

“Shi will you marry me?”

My brain was yelling, “NO! Yet my head was nodding up and down.

“Yes,” I yelled. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Chapter 48

“WHAT!” Janell yelled.

She was in her hotel room at the Hilton in Oakland. B.I.T.C.H. was there. It was important, so they risked the meeting.

“She said ‘yes,’” Brittany said sitting in a chair. “This was not the plan? What the fuck do you mean he asked her to marry him, and she said, ‘yes,’” she yelled.

“Janell calm your happy ass down before I calm you down,” Helen said standing up. “Smile or I can put one on your face.”

“Helen!” Brittany sighed.

“Nelly, we didn’t know. Shi completely blind sighted us,” Charika said.

“Yeah, we had no idea she was even in contact with him or knew him,” Tamekia said.

“How did you not know?”

“We weren’t following him just his crew. We needed to get to them first,” I’esha said.

Janell was hyperventilating, “This is so not good.”

“We know Nelly,” Charika said.

“But we need to pull this shit together,” Brittany said. Janell was thinking, there was a migraine forming in her head. “So, what’s do we do?”

“Keep trying to get information…stick to the plan as best you can,” Janell said then sighing she added, “The most important part is Shi. Keep her safe.”

Chapter 49

The good, the bad and the ugly, that’s the best way I could describe what happened the next few months leading up to my wedding.

The bad and the ugly went hand and hand so I’ll tell you about that first.

Well, I received so much fucking hell when I got home about Spin, my fiancé who gave me a diamond ring that I am sure could be used to feed a small country. It was heavy as hell too. I avoided Vicky and King who were not trying to be anywhere near Spin and whom I’m sure was plotting on me. I was invited to Spin’s, and since our relationship was now public knowledge and I was future wifey… I mean there was just no way I could say ‘no.’ There was no valid excuse I could use. I was marrying him so I’d have to get use to his lifestyle, but knowing I’d be facing the wrath of Vicky and King I went home with him… you know, just to get it over with. Okay y’all know why I went damn.

But as you know I couldn’t hide and duck calls forever.

First was King.

“ARE, YOU, FUCKING, CRAZY?!” King asked through clinched teeth.

I gave a shy smile; I was ready with an answer. I sat down on a couch.

“King, don’t do this to me. You knew what I was doing, and now I’m in the lion’s den. Yes it is dangerous, we’ve established that, but I’m a big girl and can hold my own. I need to find out what happened to my brother… please, don’t stand in the way of that.” I rubbed the Tiffany’s heart Free had given me for dramatic effect. We just stood staring at one another. After a few long seconds he sighed, and his face changed. It went from rage to somewhere in-between anger and sympathy, or was it understanding? Hell, I was just happy he wasn’t mad. “Trust me, please.” I tried to make it seem like I was begging him and needed him. Why? Shit, I don’t know, probably because I did in some strange way. “I got this nigga wide open.”

We lapsed into silence, and I could tell he was thinking and thinking hard. He took a deep breath and said, “I’m not concerned about how wide open he is Shi. I’m concerned about how wide open yo’ nose is rogue.”

I blinked saying nothing, that’s all I could do. Sure I could have easily told him I had no feeling for Spin but…

Next, was Vicky and before she got a chance to speak I did.

“Be happy for me, please! I’m one step closer.”

She sighed, “I don’t like him and I’m scared for you Shi.” I nodded, I could understand that. “And I won’t act like I do like him.”

And that was the end. It wasn’t so bad, I guess. Okay, it was. I could see the hurt in King’s eyes and to stop it from eating me alive I kept telling myself he had a woman and a kid. We’d been over for so long though I knew he still had feelings for me like I had for him.

“Shi, don’t make me kill him,” King said looking into my eyes.

I would never have thought him capable until I saw the look in those green eyes. They were dark. After he had his say he got up and left and he barely called or spoke to me after that.

The next part was Vicky found herself a man. She met him at the club, and his name was K.C. Yes, the K.C.

It was all bad and ugly. Vicky was already too deep in this shit, and I did not like it. She was too close to the danger, and it was so not cool.

Chapter 50

A bitch had to start a new chapter for y’all for this.

The good.

I was forced by Spin to enroll in cosmetology school. He said it was part one of his wedding present. Our wedding was planned by Angelo’s, a big wedding planning company I’d never heard of that supposedly catered to the stars and charged a small fortune an hour. Spin was pulling out all the stops and was spending it all.

It was my first wedding and he wanted it special.

Angelo’s did it all; all we had to do was give money, a yes or no and a color.

Spin introduced me to his mom, and she fell in love with me. She was so sweet and darling. I met his brother and sisters and his niece and nephew. They all loved me, and I could see myself liking them.

My dress was going to be custom made by Vera Wang herself and I was not allowed to see it at all. Not until it was ready to be put on. I guess for one hundred and eighty thousand dollars–one hundred thousand of it only to make it priority and get it done by the wedding-I shouldn’t worry. I know right, shit for that amount I hoped the shit had diamonds in it.

By January 2007 the entire wedding was planned, and dates were set. We were getting married on a beach in the Virgin Islands on February 14^th 2007.

The invitations were sent out to my motley crew of I believe twenty. The girls were invited, and two were bride’s maids, Vicky was of course my maiden of honor. Dr. Richards and her family were invited, and so were King and his family. I’d spoken to Dr. Richards regularly but didn’t tell her I was getting married. I just sent the invitation, and when she got it a week later I receive the phone call I’d been waiting for.

“Shi?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t you yes ma’am me,” she said and I smiled.

“So how’s your day?” I asked casually.

“Scheyenne Henrietta Iverson?”

“Yes Dr. Richards.”

“You’re getting married?”

“Oh that,” I laughed.

“Who is he?”

“Guy I’ve been seeing.” I had not told her about Spin because I didn’t want her involved like at all.

“Is it serious? I mean it has to be y’all getting married. When do I get to meet him? Hopefully before the wedding.”

“Of course, at the dinner.”

“Oh I have that invitation here. Okay now that that’s out of the way.” Dr. Richards took a deep breath and screamed. We yelled and screamed for the next few minutes, and then our conversation slowly went into talk about marriage. I so didn’t want her involved, but I was getting married, I had to have her there.

I went to all the meetings I’d had with Vick in tow. She stood by giving me advice but mostly being a silent spectator. She seemed bored and distant. I felt kinda bad; I mean here I was getting married without her. We were supposed to do everything together…but hell this was about me. It was Shi’s moment and life ain’t perfect. I mean look how her first time and how mines turned out.

Vicky’s time would come, and when it did I’d be there holding her train with a smile.

>END OF SAMPLE<