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Beat That Bitch With a Bat . . .
Hair in a loose ponytail, and a white headband around her forehead, Heaven—donned in a white sports bra and a pair of white gym shorts, which had been cut shorter in the back so that her ass cheeks peeked out from beneath the bottom of her shorts—stretched in the yard. Her crisp white Nikes gleamed in the sun.
To avoid unnecessary drama, she rarely came out to the yard. But, today, she agreed with Sabina. She needed some sunshine and to breathe in some fresh air for a change. Besides, she felt like running; something she hadn’t done since her incarceration. She did several yoga stretches to loosen her already limber limbs. Then, once she finished, she held her head up to the sky for a few moments, and let the sun shine down on her face. She needed the vitamin D.
Clusters of women huddled together talking and laughing as the air flooded with different types of music floating out of a variety of portable speakers.
She scanned the yard for any signs of trouble, then took off running. Although no one had come at her crazy lately, she still had to watch her back. Her only ally thus far was Sabina, but she doubted White Chocolate would be any real help if some major shit popped off.
The yard was huge, with a full outdoor basketball court, two tennis courts, and it even had an in-ground swimming pool that never got used. The grounds looked more like the surroundings of a country club more so than that of a women’s prison.
As she rounded the track, almost completing her first lap, she spotted Sabina sitting over on the bleachers holding court with a mixed group of mostly black and Latino women, either sharing tales of her dick-sucking escapades or gossiping about which female officers were fucking the male officers.
Over to the left, she noticed a group of women playing a game of hoops on a smaller basketball court. Then there were three younger women with headphones on, dancing provocatively to what Heaven believed to be some form of reggae as they dropped their asses, then eased them back up, then rocked their hips and thrust their pelvis.
One of the girls danced the raunchiest, her tongue darting in and out of her mouth as she made erotic faces, while her hands traveled over her body. Another girl came behind her and slapped her ass.
The others laughed.
Heaven squinted. One of the young women dancing all nasty-like looked like . . .
She rounded the bend.
Ohmygod. It was . . . her.
Clitina.
Just thinking her name made Heaven cringe. But what surprised her was, she’d taken her weave out and was now sporting six thick cornrows, the ends sweeping past her ass. Heaven hadn’t seen her since she’d apologized to her on the tier, which had been almost three weeks ago. And the way she moved her body, Heaven couldn’t help but think what a lucrative gold mine she’d be at somebody’s strip club. Still, all she saw in her mind’s eye was the young girl in a pair of cruddy, bloody drawers.
Heaven frowned, wondering if she’d used the Monistat she’d given her.
Still, it amazed her at how quickly the girl had acclimated to prison. It was as if she were hanging on the streets with her girlfriends without a care in the world.
Heaven shook her head, and kept moving around the track. She tried to focus on her run, and not the nasty ways of some of the women she was surrounded by, or the number of days, months, years she still had left on her prison sentence.
She missed being home—badly. The nights went by quickly. But the days seemed to drag on forever. She’d be an old bitch by the time she’d hit the streets. At least that was how it felt to her. Ten years, felt like a hundred instead.
Two laps, three laps, unaware of the burning gazes on her, Heaven pushed herself to run as many miles as she could. Lungs burning, legs aching, she increased her pace as her feet pounded the graveled outdoor track, her ass bouncing like two basketballs as her feet hit the gravel.
Her body screamed. She was practically on fire. Her skin felt like it had been lit by a blowtorch. Sweat rolled down her neck and soaked into the shirt that clung to her body like a second skin. Yet, she continued to push herself.
Another lap later, she finally forced herself to slow down until she was practically speed walking. She took the towel she had draped around her neck, then took one of the ends and mopped her sweaty brows as she slowed her pace even more, bringing herself to a normal walk.
As much as she hated taking showers in an open shower area, her body longed to be under the spigot, so she planned to head back inside the prison to get in the shower before the rest of the women started pouring back inside from the yard.
She was about to pass by Clitina and her friends again, when Clitina spotted her, and waved.
Heaven waved back.
Clitina blew a large pink bubble, then popped it back into her mouth. She said something to the three other girls, who in turn looked at Heaven, but
she didn’t pay it—or them, any mind. One of the girls—a small-waist, wide-hipped girl with spiky dark hair, and intricate tattoos that covered one entire arm—cut her eye over to the right, and frowned.
Out of her peripheral, Heaven saw someone walking in her direction, so she turned to see who the girl was frowning at. The approaching figure was the tall, lanky girl with the dreads who’d played lookout on the day Heaven had to slice up the stud, Snake—months ago.
And she wasn’t alone.
Shit.
