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As far she was concerned, wash your ass and go—nothing more, nothing less. She could primp in her cell if she wanted. She looked over her shoulder making sure she left nothing behind, then shuffled off in her shower shoes just as two females were walking in.
Reluctantly, they let her walk by. Then one of them muttered behind her back, “Bitch.”
“Yup,” Heaven snapped over her shoulder. “And I’m a bitch you don’t want to fuck with. Now carry on.”
She walked off, cursing under her breath for having said anything. That’s what the hating-ass bitch had wanted her to do. Feed into her miserable shit.
And she had—for a slight moment.
As she headed down the tier, she heard yelling coming from one of the cells. “Bitch, I know you stole it. Just give it back before you piss me off.”
“Bitch, shut your dirty-ass up! I ain’t steal ya shit.”
It was Clitina and her cellmate arguing.
“You a fuckin’ lyin’-ass bitch! I want my silk scarf back.”
“Eat my ass, bitch! I don’t even wear silk, ho! So fuck outta here!”
Heaven shook her head and kept walking.
“Miss Heaven,” Clitina called out, sticking her head out her cell. “You hear this bitch, tryna say I stole her fuckin’ scarf. If I’ma steal some shit from a bitch, it ain’t gonna be no fuckin’ old-ass dirty scarf. This bitch dumb as fuck. I steal new shit.”
“No bitch, you dumb. And so is your retarded-ass mammy for givin’ you that fucked-up-ass name. You—”
Clitina charged back inside; all Heaven heard after that was, whap! Whap! Whap!
Then came the sound of loud tussling, and threats. “I’ma kill you, bitch!”
“Not before I kill you, you bum-bitch!”
They were both going to find their asses in lockup if they didn’t find a way to fight more quietly.
Though she wanted to turn back and say something to them, she took a deep breath, and kept on walking. She had her own shit to deal with.
When she finally returned to her cell, Sabina had the privacy curtain up and was still on the phone, supposedly talking to her boyfriend (you know, the bastard on the streets living his life while she rotted away in prison for his shit) in the same spot Heaven had left her, sitting Indian-style in the middle of her bunk.
“What you mean you can’t come see me?” she whispered. “Why not?”
She looked over at Heaven and shook her head as she mouthed, “This black fucker.”
“This black fucker?” Really?
Heaven frowned.
“A warrant? For what?” Sabina rolled her eyes. “Mmhmm. Interesting. But whatever,” she hissed. “Anyway, I need you to send me money . . . I don’t know, like two, three, hundred . . . whaaaat? What you mean you ain’t got it? Where’s all your money? You sell drugs, nigga. I know you got it. So stop playing with me . . . uh-huh . . . Well, what about a hundred. I haven’t asked you for shit . . . so do you think you can handle that? It’s not like you’re accepting my collect calls. I was nothing but good to you on the streets, nigga . . .”
Heaven cringed inwardly, shooting her a sharp look. There was something about hearing a white person using that word even if it wasn’t used with the “E” and “R” at the end of the word.
The bitch still had no right to use it, or speak it. She didn’t give a damn how many black dicks she sucked and fucked. Now she wanted her ass off her phone. She wanted to yank it from her ear and slap her in the face with it. But she had to grit her teeth and let it slide until she was done with her conversation. Then she’d confront her ass.
She knew it wasn’t any of her business how the two of them communicated or argued. Still, the shit irked her. Maybe he accepted that shit, but she didn’t.
And she planned on telling her so.
She angrily applied cocoa butter cream all over her skin, then slipped into a pair of commissary-bought pajama bottoms. She turned her back to Sabina, slid off her robe, and put on a tank top.
Then stared at the television—arms folded, and waited.
