No Justice No Peace

NO JUSTICE

“The return of Kiley Jacoby Abrams in
How Can I Be Down?
”

by

Brenda M. Hampton

Copyright © 2005 by Brenda M. Hampton

Revised Edition January 2011

Published by Voices Books & Publishing

P.O. Box 3007

Bridgeton, MO 63044

www.voicesbooks.homestead.com

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing March 2005

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Library of Congress Catalog Cord No: Pending

ISBN 0-9761410-8-6

            It’s crazy how life is; one minute you’re here and the next minute you’re gone.  Being locked down in prison for damn near ten years, I might as well have been dead.  It was pure deep hell and definitely wasn’t no place for a man like me to be. Yes, I killed those who murdered my daddy, and yes, I’d for surely done away with the fool who killed my brother, Kareem. But, I wasn’t a threat to society.  I didn’t just kill people for nothing.  If anything, I knew I couldn’t depend on the judicial system, and if I had to take matters into my own hands, so be it.  To this day, I have no regrets for what I’d done.  I do, however, regret being in a place where some muthafuckas just don’t give a shit.  Many have killed for the fun of it, or just because they didn’t have shit else to do. But, who in their right mind would want to come to a place like this?  Papa Abrams, my daddy, said prison was no picnic and he for damn sure didn’t lie.  He’d had many connections before he was killed and I was lucky that many of those brothas still remembered the legacy he’d left behind.  I made friends easily, but for many of the other brothas, especially the younger ones, that simply wasn’t the case. 

I’d listened to them many of nights, crying for their Mama’s to save them.  No doubt, they were turned into instant bitches, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could say or do about it.  There were many brothas locked up for stupid shit like: car jackings, robberies, and minor drug possessions.  They hadn’t a clue the price they’d have to pay after being put behind bars.  It was more than anyone could imagine, and in a place like this, even their mamas couldn’t save them now.  

For me, the only good thing about being in here was seeing my boy, Quincy. We saw each other on occasion.  The guards were sure to keep us far apart as much as possible, but the times we saw each other, that’s what kept me sane.  He’d gained his respect before I got here, and for a white boy, who still considered himself a colored man, having so much respect on the inside was rare.  Either way, we still had each other.  Our bond was like no other.  I’d always known how strong our bond was, but when he took the wrap for what I’d done, I looked at him in a different way.  He was blood to me, and if anyone ever crossed him, they’d have to answer to me.  

I guess being so down on myself for being in here was my own damn fault.  It wasn’t like I didn’t have love on the outside because I did.  My son Desmon’s mother, Ginger, begged to come visit me, but I refused to let her do so.  I never wanted Desmon to see me like this and all I had were pictures from when he was five years old, up until now.  I’ll be damned if he didn’t grow up to look like Kareem.  And even though Kareem had been gunned down right in front of me, I knew having Desmon in my life again would be like having my brother once again.

            Not only that, but my ex-girlfriend Jada wrote me from time to time.  Lord knows I didn’t expect to hear from her, but her letters were just a little something else I could hang on to. Eventually, she made arrangements to visit me and seeing her sometimes was like a breath of fresh air.  After all the hurt she’d caused me in the past, she was there for me once again. We’d reminisce about how crazy our relationship was and about how much Kareem hated her.  I knew he was probably in Heaven upset with me for keeping in touch with her, but again, she was something to keep me going.  She put money on Quincy and my books and made sure we had just about everything we needed. 

Recently, though, her latest letter informed me that she’d gotten married.  She mentioned her dope-slanging fiancé every once in a while and I told her not to have any regrets.  Why wait on a muthafucka behind bars anyway? 

At first, my appeals appeared to be hopeless. And even if I were released, there was no guarantee I’d even trust Jada again.  Ya see, my trust for women had definitely come to an end.  After Officer Candi Campbell pretended to be someone she wasn’t, not only did I have little respect for women, but for the police as well.  Years ago, Candi worked her pussy on me for months to get a confession. But after all is said and done, I’m going to have the last and final laugh. Revenge is so sweet and I’ve tasted it each and every day I’ve been in here. Bottom line, my lawyer insisted there were too many FBI fuck-ups.  He continued to pursue my case for years, and since there was never any evidence found against me, and I continued to proclaim my innocence, there was no way to keep me behind bars.  My man Quincy was in the same predicament.  Yes, he’d confessed, and he’d been convicted. Money had a way, though, of working shit out for a nigga. According to our attorney, Mr. Bradshaw, the police scared both Quincy and me into confessing. All they had was bags full of money, and according to us, we didn’t know who it belonged to.  There were no drugs, certainly no weapons that connected Quincy or me to the murders, and when the time came for Candi to testify, she broke down on the stand and pleaded the fifth. With her doing that, it wasn’t enough to keep me behind bars for the rest of my life.

            By now, I’m sure she knows I’m on my way out.  The police probably got her and that bitch Veronica under police protection, while at the same time, plans to keep a close eye on me.  Honestly, Quincy and I want those bitches bad for how they played us.  I’ve dreamed about snapping Candi’s neck plenty of nights, and all I think about was the smirk on Veronica’s face when the officers cuffed me and escorted me to the police car.  Even though Candi had fallen in love with me, she fucked herself by not testifying. Had she done that, maybe things would be different.  Who knows?  But, I know I’m delighted to be getting out of this hellhole.  I can’t wait to see my son, and to have sex with Ginger again. In her letters, she talked about what my release day would be like.  How much sex we would have.  Moreso, how desperate she is to feel me again.  She’s definitely no anxious than I am.  Just the thought of fucking her makes me come, and when I have her in my arms again, it for damn sure will be on. 

            So, one more night and I’m out of this place.  Bradshaw is in the works of tying up Quincy’s case and said it would be just a matter of months before he’ll be released. He’s just as anxious as I am, and I promised him I’d have things in order by the time he made it out.  I wasn’t sure what I would do, but selling drugs again was not an option.  Rufus had gotten out of jail a few years back and started to run his game in L.A again. He sent money to Bradshaw, Ginger and Desmon, and always sent a little something extra for me as well. 

According to Ginger, though, her and Desmon were barely making it.  She complained that the money Rufus sent wasn’t enough, but I suggested she find a fucking job and stop sucking up the welfare system.  She claimed she’d been kicked off welfare and said she’d been getting a disability check because of her injured back, along with food stamps.  When I accused her of being lazy, she stopped writing me.  Several months later, she said that she took my advice and got a job as a waitress at a nightclub.  She insisted every bit helped and said she had no choice because Desmon was a handful to raise. She claimed she’d been to hell and back with him.   Said he was hardheaded, disrespectful, and was headed down the wrong path.  When I asked her to have him write me, he never did.  I’d send him thinking of you cards, and cards on his birthday, but never got a response. I’d made many more attempts to reach out to him, but I guess he wasn’t having it.  Still, this was our time.  It was time for me to make things right and to make sure my son didn’t wound up like me.  I didn’t have much to be proud of, but I stood by my name.  The Abrams men were known for sticking together through thick and thin, and whether Desmon liked it or not, he’d have to soon adjust.

Chapter One

I didn’t sleep a wink throughout the entire night.  Of course, getting the fuck out of here weighed heavy on my mind.  When the buzzer sounded off for breakfast, I was on the floor doing my morning sit-ups.  I’d become overly obsessed with working out and had taken my body to a whole new level.  It was solid as a rock, smooth as a baby’s bottom and tight. Even my thighs, I couldn’t believe how thick they’d gotten, and my waistline was a perfect thirty-four inches wide. 

            Frank, my roomy, hopped down from the top bunk and placed his foot on my chest.  He grabbed the towel I used to wipe my sweat and snapped it in my face.

            “You think you the shit ‘cause you gettin’ out of here, don’t you nigga?” he laughed.

            I snatched the towel and rose up on my elbows. “Believe it or not, my stomach feeling kind of queasy. I think I’m glad, but I know everything ain’t gon be all gravy on the outside either.”

            “It might not be,” Frank said, removing his foot.  He took a seat on the bottom bunk. “But anythang beats being up in here.”

            “You got that shit right.”

            The guard yelled in at us. “Come on, ladies, stop messing around and move it!”

            We looked at each other and shook our heads.  Any other day, I would cuss Joe’s ass out for mouthing at us like that, but today, I refused to let him steal my joy. Instead, I gathered my things for my shower, and afterwards, Frank and me headed for the dining hall.  Nobody told me what time I’d be released, so after I ate, and had a chance to see Quincy, hopefully, I’d be on my way out.

            My eyes searched the noisy hall for Quincy.  Sometimes he’d show and sometimes he wouldn’t.  It depended on if the guards found something else for him to do. They knew I’d be anxious to say goodbye, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they came up with some shit to keep him occupied. 

            The clock ticked away.  I’d finished breakfast and gave my last goodbyes to several fellas who stopped by the table to holla and wish me well.  When I saw Quincy’s roomy, Pedro, I eased my way over to him.

            I dropped my almost empty tray on the table, sitting next to him. “Say, man, where’s Quincy?”

            “He’s in the laundry room,” he answered with a mouth full of food. “You know they don’t wanna let you see him today.”

            “Shit!” I yelled and then looked around.  I patted Pedro on his back and told him good luck.

            “Don’t do it, Kiley,” he warned. “If they catch yo ass sneakin’ around they’ll put you in the hole, mon.”

            “I’m not sneaking around.  I’m going to look for Quincy.”

            “Be careful.  And tell yo girlfriend, when you see huh, I said to let you suck those titties.” He put his hands in front of his chest. “Mon, she got great looking titties.” He referred to the pictures of Ginger taped to the wall beside my bed.

            I laughed with Pedro and got up to find Quincy. 

            After I dumped my tray, I eased my way to the door.  Nobody seemed to notice, as the room was still packed with loud talking men.  Shortly, a fight broke out and since the guards were occupied with that, I walked abruptly to the laundry room to find Quincy.  Both guards who stood nearby the laundry room were pretty cool, so I politely asked them if I could talk to Quincy for a minute.  They yelled Quincy’s name, and when he turned around, he saw me.  He strutted to the door with a blue bandana tied around his head.  His black spiked hair showed at the top and he grinned from ear to ear. We both looked each other up and down in our light blue button down shirts and dark blue pants.  I’m sure Quincy was thinking this was the last time he’d see me dressed in this bullshit.

            “What’s up, man?” he said. He tightly grabbed my hand and bumped his chest against mine.

            “You know what’s up, fool.  I came to tell you I’d see you in a minute.”

            “A minute it is. And hopefully, not too much longer.”

            “It shouldn’t be.  Bradshaw said maybe a few more months.”

            Quincy couldn’t stop smiling. “Yeah, that’s what he told me.  But, I’m truly hurt that you’re leaving, damn!  I can’t believe you’re hours away from being a free man.”

            “Me either.  I feel as if I’m dreaming and I can’t wait to see my son.”

            “Is Ginger picking you up?”

            “Yeah. Nobody told me what time I’d be leaving, but I told her to be outside no later than eight o’clock this morning.”

            Quincy looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost nine o’clock already.”

            “I know.  And they’d better hurry it the fuck up before I change my mind.”

            We laughed.

            Quincy punched my chest. “So, what you got planned?  With how big you’ve gotten, you might want to train for boxing.”

            I punched him back. “Look at you, nigga.  I see that the exercise yard did you some favors too.  When I used to punch you like that, you’d fall backwards.”

            “Bullshit, Kiley.  You ain’t never punched me and I almost fell backwards.  You thinking about that weak ass brother of yours, Kareem.”

            I thought about Kareem, who I missed so much. “He does come to mind quite often.  I can’t believe how much him and Desmon have in common.  Ginger say I got my work cut out for me.”

            “I’m sure you do, especially if he’s anything like Kareem was.” Quincy looked at the ground and cleared his throat. “So, uh, like I said…you got plans or what?”

            “Plans on getting my son together, fucking the shit out of my gal, and finding a job.  You know I’m gonna chill at her place, right?”

            “Yep,” Quincy said, as we looked at the guard Joe rushing our way. Quincy opened his arms up for a hug. “Take care, Kiley.  And please, please, please don’t bust nobody’s damn head open until I get out.”

            “I won’t.  As long as you promise to keep yo ass out of the hole until you get out.”

            “Will do, my brotha.  Certainly, will do.”

            Quincy and me exchanged the love and before Joe could even open his mouth, Quincy went back into the laundry room.

            “I’ve been looking for you, Mr. Lee,” Joe spat.

            “It’s Kiley, Joe.  And there’s no doubt that you knew where to find me.”

            “Don’t get smart with me, boy! You’d better watch your mouth or I’ll make sure you spend a few more days in here, chatting with the ladies.” He shoved my arm, nudging me back towards my cell.  “Hurry up and gather your things before I decide to tell the warden you snuck off to give your girlee a goodbye kiss.”

            I didn’t even respond to Joe.  He’d caused me many of days in the hole, but today was not going to be the day. 

Gathering my things was just the beginning.  They fucked around so long that by the time I even made it to the gates, it was almost three o’clock in the afternoon.  Ginger told me she’d be in a white Ford Escort, and as the rusty gates slowly opened, I finally smelled freedom in the air. I saw Ginger’s car from a distance and headed to it.  As soon as she saw me, she got out and hurried towards me.  I hoped to see Desmon follow, but he was nowhere in sight.  My pearly whites showed and that’s when Ginger jumped up, straddling my hips. 

“I am so damn glad to see you,” she said staring into my light brown eyes.  I held her tightly around her waist, and without saying a word, I sucked her lips into mine.

We kissed for a while, and after Ginger slid off my hips, she stood in front of me with her arms resting on my shoulders. She moved her head from side to side. “You look so, so good.  I can’t believe how handsome you’ve gotten.”

“I must say ten years has done nothing but enhance your booty too, girl.” I laughed. “I mean, your beauty.”

She blushed and playfully pushed my shoulder. “So, I see you’ve picked up a sense of humor?”

“Something like that.”  I took her hand and we walked towards her car.  “So, you know what I’m about to ask, don’t you?”

“And based on my letters, you should know what I’m about to tell you.  I haven’t a clue where Desmon is.  Yesterday, I asked him if he wanted to come with me and he didn’t answer.”

I nodded and opened the car door for Ginger.  I then went to the passenger’s side and got in.  Ginger leaned over and gave me another kiss.  She wiped her lipstick off my thick lips and traced my goatee with her finger.

“Are you as happy to see me as I am to see you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Then why doesn’t it seem like it?”

“Ginger, you know I’m not a man who shows his emotions.  Never have been and never will be.  Just know I’m happy to see you.”

“And what about me makes you happy?”

“I’m happy that you look good for a thirty-eight year old woman, I’m happy that your round beautiful eyes still light up when you see me, I’m happy that your hair is still braided how I like it, and I’m delighted that your body has not changed one bit.”

She winked and rubbed my cleanly shaven baldhead. “I’m happy too. Now, let’s hurry home so I can get you out of your clothes and hold your body in my arms.  You know, those pictures you sent had me playing with myself many of nights.”

I laughed and reached over to rub Ginger’s caramel thick legs.  As she drove, I eased my hand between them, and placed my fingers where I’d dreamed many of nights they would go.  She squirmed around in her seat and widened her legs as I quickly brought her juices down. She grabbed my wrist and looked over at me while stopped at the light.

“Couldn’t you wait?” she whispered.

“I just wanted to feel it.  Haven’t felt it in a long time and I wanted to make sure it was exactly how I left it.”

“I don’t know about all that, but whoever’s been there lately, don’t stand a chance now that you’re back.”

In broad daylight, Ginger pulled over to the curb and reached to unzip my pants.  She pulled my dick from my pants, covering it with her mouth.  The wetness of her sopping mouth and her lips tightening on my head, made me come quickly. I gripped the back of her neck and held it until she swallowed the last drop. My breathing was heavy and it took me a minute to calm myself.

Ginger lifted her head and wiped across her mouth. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” she said, zipping my pants.  “I have another surprise waiting for you.”

“I can’t see it being any better than that.”

She chuckled, but her surprise was to show me the new place she’d gotten.  She still lived in East St. Louis, but this townhouse was slightly bigger.  As we walked through the door, she had black and silver balloons all over the living room with a banner that said welcome home.  I was truly touched, but since Desmon was still nowhere in sight, I was a bit disappointed.  I reached for Ginger’s hand and kissed the back of it.

“You are so sweet, and thank you for making me feel at home.”

“Anything for you, Mr. Kiley Jacoby Abrams.  Now, what would you like for dinner?”

“Whatever you feel up to cooking is fine with me.  Anything…except red meat.  Chicken is fine, but I don’t eat red meat anymore.  Besides, whatever you cook, I’m sure it’ll beat what I’ve been served.”

She threw her hand back. “Baby, that’s over and done with.  You don’t ever have to worry about going back to that place again.”

Ginger smiled and gave me a quick tour of her new place.  It was cool, but with all the money Rufus said he’d sent, I thought it would be a lot better.  She still had some of the old furniture from her previous place and the only difference was the townhouse had a basement.  What pissed me off more than anything was how cluttered it was.  Ginger had never been a good housekeeper and for a woman who barely worked, she knew better. As for the basement, she said that Desmon’s room took up most of that. When I asked if I could go see it, she told me to feel free. 

Before I went downstairs to check out his room, I stayed in the kitchen and watched Ginger cook dinner for us.  She rambled on and on about her friends and family, but I couldn’t get my mind off what I felt between her legs today.  She’d definitely been fucking somebody, and the slight stench that came from it, implied recently. It wasn’t like I expected her to be celibate since I’d been gone.  Then again, maybe I wished she had.  She was still as sexy as the day I left, and proving that to me, she wore a tight blue jean ruffled skirt that hugged her fat ass and clung well to her curvy hips.  The tiny red tank shirt she had on showed her midriff and squeezed her breasts closely together. She had long micro braids that hung down her back, and since they were clearly away from her face, anybody could see how beautiful she really was. 

            When she snapped her fingers in my face, I was in another world.

            “Kiley, what is wrong with you?  You’ve been too quiet.”

“I’m just thinking, baby, that’s all.”

“Thinking about what?” she said, and then walked back over by the stove to check on the grilled chicken that was smoking up the kitchen.

I removed my shirt, laying it on the kitchen table. I stood shirtless and undid the top button on the pair of 501 wide-legged Levis’ I wore.  Ginger turned around, scanning my muscular frame from head to toe.  By the look in my seductive eyes, she could tell what was on my mind.