So I got with the program real quick and gave up on all the crying shit. Once that happened, I had solidified myself as someone who could be strong. I had also solidified my connection to Shanta. I still wasn’t ready to call it a full friendship, though.

  With sleep still clouding my judgment, and an attitude that could, I cocked my head to the side and glared at Shanta through squinted eyes. My growling stomach made it easy for me to be mad and agitated that early in the morning.

  “I—I—I just heard something going around.” Shanta put her hand over her heaving chest like she was about to faint. She could see that the look on my face was clearly telling her to get to the point.

  “They—they saying that they heard that there is a hit out on you. They even offering chicks in here some money to take you out. It’s serious shit and dangerous for you,” Shanta gulped.

  I let out a long, exasperated breath. “What?” I asked, alarmed. “There would be no reason for anyone to have a hit on me,” I lied. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I needed to pace, because that made me feel better when I was nervous. I started moving in circles in the tiny space around my bunk. First the note, and now this. It was a lot to think about and handle at the same time.

  “They saying that it might be as soon as tonight. They said some real dangerous people out for blood when it comes to you,” Shanta finished breathlessly.

  I let my tense shoulders fall. I rolled my eyes and inhaled, feeling like I had just gotten kicked in the pussy, for real.

  What the fuck? I thought. What Shanta was saying wasn’t really news to me after I had gotten the note, but damn! I knew the day was going to come that I would have to face the wrath of either Ahmad and his people or Terrell’s people. Still, when she said it, the reality was just like a splash of cold water to my face.

  I stopped pacing and exhaled. I decided no matter what, I was not going to let them see me sweat. There was still a good possibility that maybe even if Anderson had been derailed from helping me, he had gotten the message to his sister, the nurse. He said that she might be able to help me get out of here before anything bad could happen. Acting tough was 100 percent of what got me through each day inside, so I wasn’t about to change it now.

  I looked Shanta dead in her eyes. “Shanta, don’t worry about me. I ain’t worried about all them threats. It ain’t about shit and I’m getting used to it. I’ve already seen the worst, so at this point, let them bring it on. Those threats are coming from the outside, and I know exactly who it is,” I lied, playing it off.

  Shanta was looking at me like I was crazy not to be scared shitless. I sat back down on my bunk and she did too.

  “I already been assaulted in the last place I was at. I ain’t worried about dying, for real. I don’t know if living is worth it if I got to keep living like this. Honestly, that’s the one thing I might not be afraid of anymore—death,” I said calmly, although my heart was drumming against my chest bone.

  I could’ve won an Emmy Award in that moment. The entire time I spoke to Shanta and acted calm, it was all an act. Inside, I was a shaken, scared little girl dying to go home and get a hug from my mother before somebody murdered me like an animal in prison.

  As Shanta and I got ready to leave the dorm, I could feel my stomach churning with a mixture of anger and fear. I knew that anything was possible. At any time, the threats from Terrell’s family or Ahmad could materialize into some crazy inmate attacking me in the shower again while I was wet and helpless, or while I slept, or when I had my back turned in the library, researching my case. I had seen it happen to other women, and, trust me, I hadn’t seen any of them return once they were carried out by the medics.

  “I think this will all blow over and it may just be talk. I’m going to get out of here before anything bad can happen. Don’t you worry,” I said seriously, hoping that would make Shanta finally feel better about my potential threat.

  Shanta shook her head in agreement, but I could see in her eyes she didn’t believe it. She had seen a lot inside the prison, so it was harder to convince someone like her. It pained me to know that I had to watch my back. I had my head on a swivel, and every move I made, I did it carefully. A damn shame, if you asked me. Paranoia and anxiety had been regulars in my life since this whole debacle started. The fact that I couldn’t catch a break was really starting to get to me.

  “Either way, I got your back, Misty. I feel like there is something good about you, no matter what they say you did. It’s the same for me. They say I’m some heinous bitch, but I just call it survival. Anything I ever did out in them streets, it was to survive . . . ,” Shanta said, her voice trailing off.

  “I hear you. I feel the same way,” I agreed. It felt like she was finally coming around and this gave me hope.

  Shanta smiled. “Enough of the serious shit. Let’s go get something to eat,” Shanta said as we moved into the line for our meal.

  I had no choice but to eat the food the prison provided. In this unit, there were no commissary privileges. I had heard it was because sometimes they wanted to control the food so they could systematically starve inmates at certain times in order to test certain drugs out on them. It seemed logical to believe. There were days we had all stayed locked in the dorm and only allowed to have crackers that they brought around. Those were the days I had seen the worst come out in the women I was locked up with. Those were the days fights broke out and some serious injuries happened. Those were also the days you’d hear more than one inmate screaming in the night as they were being taken away by strange men.

  Shanta and I sat down in the chow hall. I looked down at my tray of cold powdered eggs, which they tried to pass off as scrambled eggs, a rotten banana, and a piece of stale institutional bread, which was rough enough to be used as a scouring pad. Shanta seemed happy to have her meal, but I didn’t have an appetite at all. Not only because of the food, but because I felt like a target. I don’t know if I was bugging or not, but it seemed like all eyes were on me.

  I kept telling myself that the threat wasn’t real, but the idea of it was nagging at me like mosquitos buzzing in my ears. All of the inmate voices seemed super loud to me. I couldn’t make out what they were all saying, but I just knew they were talking about me. I even thought I saw some of them pointing at me. Their laughter seemed more pronounced too.

  “You good?” Shanta asked, noticing that I wasn’t eating and my eyes were darting around nervously.

  “Girl, yes. I’m good. I told you, I ain’t scared,” I lied, waving my hand like it was nothing.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the nerve of Terrell’s family or Ahmad to put a hit out on me. After all I had been through at Terrell’s fucking hands? I had stuck by his worthless ass through prison bids, him being broke, cheating, and him beating my ass whenever he felt like it. I think they all must’ve forgotten that fact.

  And as for Ahmad, he knew what it was when they got me involved in crimes for their own selfish reasons. Ahmad acted all gangster, but it was just the fact that he couldn’t stand that he had been bested by a woman. He wasn’t a real fucking man, anyway. He hid behind his henchmen and his guns.

  I would never forgive Terrell for the shit he put me through, especially, because I ended up in prison behind his ass. All the years I had spent with him, riding with him through it all. I deserved better than this bullshit. I had to shake my head as I thought about how many times I had to fight off chicks and fight off Terrell himself. It was always a constant battle being with him, and then when I finally cut it off, he couldn’t take it. I shuddered now, thinking about all the times he had put his hands on me.

  * * *

  One time, I had opened my apartment door and immediately a bulb of lightning had flashed behind my eyes and a force beyond my control had taken hold of me. With a scream stuck in the back of my throat choking me, and a brutal force pulling me down, I had scrambled on the hardwood floor of the small foyer, still not aware of what had hit me. Another blow caused an unbearable pain in my head.

  “Ah!” I had finally been able to let out a bloodcurdling scream. I could hear Terrell’s animalistic breathing. I had known what it was then. Instinctively I had placed my hands up in defense, but to no avail. Another blow to the top of my head had caused me to see stars. I felt myself stumbling backward.

  “Terrell, please!” I had finally managed to scream.

  “Where the fuck you been, Misty!” Terrell had growled as he wound his hands around my hair.

  I had been there before, so I let my body go limp. I knew the results of Terrell being like this. I’d get my ass beat.

  “Where have you been?!” he had screamed again. Then he reached under my bowed head and slammed his balled fist into my face.

  Blood had sprayed from my nose like a lawn sprinkler, sending my blood onto Terrell’s pants. That had just seemed to infuriate him even more. Blood from my nose had dripped into the back of my throat as he yanked my head back to look into my eyes. I could tell then he’d been getting high. I could hardly breathe.

  “You’re a lying bitch,” Terrell had spat.

  “Terrell, please!” I had gasped, huffing out each word.

  I had continued pleading as he dragged me across the floor farther into the apartment. I could feel the skin on my knees stinging from carpet burns. An open-handed slap had landed on my cheek. I saw small squirming flashes of light out of the side of my eyes. I said a silent prayer that Terrell didn’t kick me, like he had before.

  I was sure my ribs hadn’t fully healed from the last time and I feared that another kick or blow would surely send bone fragments into my heart and kill me instantly. The pain had pulsed through my head and had become so unbearable, I had placed my hand on top of Terrell’s hand, which was embedded in my hair.

  “You be trying to play a nigga. I know you out there doing shit, Misty!” he had roared, continuing his assault. “You fucking niggas behind my back, right? Right?!” Terrell had boomed like a maniac.

  It didn’t make a difference if I had answered “no” or “yes.” He had been blinded by anger at that point. I had known that he would beat me until he got tired. Then he would help me up off the floor and force me to have sex with him. It had been a cycle that, unfortunately, I had become familiar with.

  As Terrell dragged me through my apartment, I had kicked and screamed, but that didn’t deter him. In fact, he had punched me in the chest so hard, it caused me to involuntarily emit a loud cough. He’d literally knocked the wind out of me. Urine had run down my legs and I could hardly stay awake. When Terrell had finally gotten finished that day, he stood me up and helped me to the bedroom.

  “I’m sorry. I just love you so much,” he had whispered as he placed me on the floor of the bathroom so he could clean me up. His mood had switched so far that I knew he was the living and breathing Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I had struggled to breathe because every breath hurt. I felt like all of my ribs had been broken. My knees burned from the friction burns I had suffered from being dragged. As bad as I had wanted to scream out or even moan, I hadn’t wanted to take a chance on making him angry again.

  “Come here, let me help you clean up,” Terrell had consoled in a low, soft voice that was completely different than the booming, maniacal voice he’d been using just a few minutes earlier.

  I had struggled to open my eyes, since blood and tears had dried and crusted around them, almost sealing them shut. I had lain in a fetal position, every inch of my body aching. Terrell had gone to the linen closet and gotten a hand towel. I heard the water running. Then I felt a warm rag against my battered skin. I had shrunken away from his touch, but I was careful not to piss him off.

  “I am so sorry,” he had said, wiping more blood from my face and neck.

  Never again. I will never stand for this again, I had vowed silently as tears danced down my face. I had promised myself that day I wasn’t going to take any more beatings from Terrell without fighting back.

  Even after all of those beatings, I had tried to forgive him and believe him when he had said he wouldn’t do it again, but what happened? He would turn right around and do it again. All of this on top of the fact that he was always cheating!

  I had a right to fight back. And when he attacked me the last time, I had a right to kill his ass. I had a right to end his abuse.

  * * *

  As for Ahmad, I knew he was dangerous. I should’ve never gone along with the stupid-ass plan about getting involved with the federal investigation that my former boss was under. If I had known that they were dangerous kingpins and illegal businessmen, I would’ve told the feds to kiss my ass and taken that little-ass pill charge that they threatened me with. But, no, I had to be a chickenshit and let them talk me into it. Now look at me. I went from potentially getting federal drug charges to getting a murder charge. That’s what happens when you get involved with shit on the black market.

  I swiped roughly at the tears cropping up in my eyes. I couldn’t afford for anyone to see me having a moment of weakness. Anyway, in the end, after the Ahmad setup, there was no getting out of it. The fucking feds were on that shit and they didn’t give one fuck about me helping them.

  I’m telling you, money and power will make niggas kill their own family, so I should’ve known that not one of them would be thinking about saving my ass. They were all out for self, and I got caught in the fray.

  I was shaking my head in disgust. It was all me when it came down to it. The planning and takedown of Ahmad and his crew was all my handiwork. I didn’t think I had all of that conniving in me, but, apparently, I was more talented than I thought.

  Still not talented enough to save myself from sitting in prison, though. No way. I lost this battle.

  10

  THE TIME HAS COME

  Just like Shanta had warned, my time had finally come. I was asleep in my bunk when I felt a big, rough hand slam into my face. It covered my nose and mouth, which caused my eyes to pop open in shock. I opened my mouth and tried to scream, but the sound was muffled by the massive hand. My chest felt like it would cave in from the jackhammer of fear slamming into it. I just knew my heart would explode. This had been one of my worst fears all of my life—being woken out of my sleep by an attacker.

  The hand belonged to a huge man, who breathed hard like an animal. He smelled like shaving cream and cigarettes. Grunting like he was struggling, he grabbed me up out of my bunk, like I was a rag doll, and threw me over his shoulder. He started carrying me away, like this was something I should’ve expected.

  “Get off of me! What are you doing? Get the fuck off of me! Help!” I screamed out, and started kicking my legs frantically. I punched the hulk of a man in his big back and squirmed my torso, trying to cause him to drop me. It didn’t matter that the way I hung, caveman style, over one of his huge shoulders, would’ve caused me to crash to the hard concrete floors and probably crush my skull. At that point, I wasn’t thinking about anything but getting away.

  Oh my God, I sucked in my breath because I could barely breathe. I was in a state of shock. “Put me down! Let me go! Get the fuck off of me!” I hollered, slamming my tiny fists into his back. I moved my head and tried to bite the hulk in his back, but I couldn’t get a good enough angle to really sink my teeth in. He held on to me so tight, I felt like he had me in a vise.

  I had no idea what was happening, but I knew it wasn’t going to be good. As I fought, I caught a glimpse of a CO that I thought could be Anderson. I wasn’t sure if it was him. My vision was too blurry. The gorilla-sized man was moving so fast with me, I couldn’t be sure if who I was seeing was actually Anderson. But I decided that I was going to try, anyway.

  “Anderson! Help me! Anderson, is that you? Help me! Don’t let them do this to me! You know me!” I screamed. I could feel the blood rushing to my head as I flailed and kicked and screamed for dear life.

  The CO that I thought was Anderson didn’t say a word. He just kept following behind the mysterious man as he carried me. I knew I would see Anderson sooner or later, but I thought it would be when he was helping me get the hell out of this place. I guess the note I received was true. Anderson had betrayed me. I couldn’t be sure, but since everything else in my life seemed to be headed straight to hell, him betraying me wouldn’t come as a surprise. I was used to people fucking me over and abusing me for their own purposes.

  The big guy carried me down a long, sterile white hallway. But not without a fight. The whole time I continued kicking, punching, and screaming. All of my efforts were for nothing, though; I was no match for the guy. In fact, he acted like my hardest punches felt good, instead of hurting him. All I had served to do was make myself tired as hell by the time he stopped moving with me. I was winded and my head pounded. Every nerve ending in my body was standing at attention. I must say, I don’t think I had ever been that afraid in my life. I felt like I was being held by one arm while dangling over the edge of a cliff that was hundreds of thousands of feet up in the air. It was a spine-chilling fear that could send anyone into cardiac arrest.

  The big brute finally took me into a brightly lit room at the end of the long hallway. From his shoulders, I could see women all over the room. Some were in beds; some were strapped in chairs; some were standing against the walls. They all seemed to be in different stages of consciousness. Some looked like they were experiencing hysteria, flopping around in chairs and fighting against restraints. I swallowed the huge lump that had formed in my throat and managed enough air to scream again. I felt like I was suddenly thrust into a scary TV show, like The Twilight Zone or Black Mirror.

  “Help me! Somebody help me! What the fuck is this!” I hollered with every ounce of power I had in my voice box. Some of the women looked at me, and some seemed like they were too spaced-out to even notice me. The big man finally lowered me from his shoulders and onto the floor.

  “Be quiet. If you know like I know, you will just stand still and be quiet,” the man hissed in my face.