Taboo 2, p.1
Taboo 2, page 1
Taboo 2: Locked In
Taboo 2: Locked In
Yoshe
www.urbanbooks.net
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1: Rasheed
Chapter 2: Sierra
Chapter 3: India
Chapter 4: Lamont
Chapter 5: Anwar
Chapter 6: Rasheed
Chapter 7: Sierra
Chapter 8: Lamont
Chapter 9: India
Chapter 10: Anwar
Chapter 11: Rasheed
Chapter 12: Sierra
Chapter 13: India
Chapter 14: Lamont
Chapter 15: Sierra
Chapter 16: Anwar
Chapter 17: Lamont
Chapter 18: India
Chapter 19: Rasheed
Chapter 20: Lamont
Chapter 21: Sierra
Chapter 22: Anwar
Chapter 23: India
Chapter 24: Sierra
Chapter 25: India
Chapter 26: Rasheed
Chapter 27: Lamont
Chapter 28: India
Chapter 29: Sierra
Chapter 30: Rasheed
Chapter 31: Anwar
Chapter 32: Sierra
Chapter 33: Lamont
Chapter 34: Rasheed
Chapter 35: India
Chapter 36: Sierra
Chapter 37: Anwar
Chapter 38: Lamont
Chapter 39: India
Chapter 40: Rasheed
Chapter 41: Lamont
Epilogue
Prologue
“Good morning, staff,” the warden said, greeting the morning roll call filled with correction officers.
Some officers said good morning as well, and some saluted him.
“I decided to take the time out to talk to you about a serious problem. I’ve been getting a lot of phone calls from the inspector general’s office with allegations of corruption that may be going on in this particular facility. This is unacceptable. These inmates are not your friends.”
The warden continued. “You are not to go beyond the scope of your duties as a New York City correction officer to provide these detainees with anything but what is required within the minimum standards. I’m pretty sure that you know what your job consists of, and you realize that you are here to uphold correction law and adhere to the rules and regulations of the department. If I find out that someone is breaking these rules, I will make sure that you will be removed from this command. Now, keeping your job is your job, and I hope that I won’t have to make that decision for you.”
The warden gave the roll call captain a nod, signaling for him to proceed. The captain began briefing the roll call and then called out names for post assignments. After everyone received their posts, roll call dispersed. A small group of female officers immediately began whispering among each other.
“You know who’s one of the people that the warden was talkin’ about, right?” said CO Watkins. She was the facility gossip queen who made it her business to know what was going on at work.
“No, who?” asked CO Porter, a heavyset female with a pretty face.
“He’s talkin’ about Howell. You know Howell. The one who has Five North steady?” asked Watkins.
CO Harris interjected, “Oh, yeah, that’s Deputy Dog’s fiancée.”
CO Butner laughed. “Now why are you callin’ Deputy Simmons ‘Deputy Dog’?” The other officers snickered along with her.
“Because he’s a dog. Can’t you look at the man and tell that he’s a dog?” Harris asked. “He was messin’ with Howell first, had a baby on her with some officer from C-95, then him and Howell got back together and God knows who else he’s doin’ right now. Damn shame that he—,” Harris began.
Watkins cut her off. “Girl, please! That’s old news! I’m just talkin’ about Howell. Now she has a child of her own. Only the father of that baby isn’t Deputy Dog.”
Porter opened her eyes real wide. She was the new jack of the small clique, having only been on the job two years. “So who is her baby daddy then?” she asked.
“An inmate,” said Harris. Porter and Butner looked at each other in amazement.
“Are you serious?” asked Butner. “How do y’all know this?”
“We just know. That’s been the rumor around here for the past two years. Her son has her last name and everything. If that was Deputy Dog’s baby, then why doesn’t he have his father’s last name, right?” asked Watkins. All the ladies nodded their heads in agreement. “Not to mention, Howell rolls with Captain Phillips, another ho who’s been known to mess around with inmates.”
Porter shook her head. “Those hoes are so scandalous! Why would someone risk their job like that? I couldn’t do it. I need my job.”
Harris gave Butner a pound. “I second you on that. Howell must have some real self-esteem issues. I mean, she’s a pretty girl; why she would want to deal with an inmate is beyond me. Isn’t she and Deputy Dog supposed to be gettin’ married?”
“I heard that, too,” said Watkins. “But I also heard that the inmate she supposedly had the baby by, last name is Gordon. He used to be housed in Five North a few years ago.”
“Girl, I know who you’re talkin’ about!” said Harris excitedly. Porter and Butner looked on. “I remember that inmate. His name is Rasheed Gordon. He was a tall guy with locks in his hair. Nice-lookin’ guy, too. Yes, he was.”
Butner and Porter laughed at Harris. Watkins didn’t. “Please, girl. Gordon, or whatever his name was, was an inmate. I don’t look at inmates in a sexual manner. I am not physically attracted to them at all! I just don’t like them and I dare one of these nasty-ass crooks to try to holler at me!”
Harris rolled her eyes at Watkins. “C’mon, Watkins. You are goin’ really hard right now. If a man is nice lookin’, he’s nice lookin’. Bein’ an inmate has nothin’ to do with it. A man is still a man.”
Watkins turned her nose up. She was adamant about her opinion. “Well, I wouldn’t mess around with an inmate, I don’t care how fine he is, and I damn sure don’t want to be around any officer who fucks with one. If I even see an officer gettin’ too familiar with an inmate, I’m reportin’ them to the inspector general’s office.” Watkins looked down the corridor. Sierra Howell was walking toward them. “Oh, wow, speakin’ of the devil. Here goes the little fraternizer right now,” she whispered.
When Howell arrived in front of the four female officers, she said hello to all of them with a smile on her face.
“Hey, girl!” greeted Watkins, putting on a fake smile. Harris, Butner, and Porter just waved.
“Good mornin’, ladies,” said Sierra. “How’s everybody doin’?”
“We’re fine, Howell,” replied Harris. “So how’s Five North treatin’ you?”
Sierra shrugged. “Eh, it’s okay. I’ve been there for a while now so I’m used to it.”
“You have a son, right?” asked Watkins.
“Yeah, I do. He’s two years old now,” replied Sierra.
“That’s sweet. How is he?” Harris asked.
“Oh, he’s doin’ good, girl. Gettin’ big and gettin’ into everything,” Sierra said with a laugh. “You know the terrible twos.” She paused for a second. “Well, let me go to this search. I’ll talk to y’all later. Have a safe tour, everybody.”
They all waved at Howell and watched her walk off. “That’s a damn shame,” said Harris.
“Inmate-lovin’ heifer,” said Watkins, shaking her head. “So disgustin’.”
Chapter 1
Rasheed
It was 8:32 in the morning in Atlanta, Georgia and Rasheed Gordon couldn’t sleep. He turned over and stared at the caramel-skinned beauty lying next to him. The woman was snoring, exhausted from the good loving that he had just given her for the last two hours. Rasheed put the sheet over her curvy frame and sighed as he sat on the edge of his bed, trying to figure out why he still felt unfulfilled.
When he thought about it, he really didn’t have anything to complain about at this point in his life. What man wouldn’t want what he had? Rasheed only had access to a different woman every night, money in his bank account, and a nice roof over his head. What could be missing from his life? For one thing, he had a beautiful baby boy, that lived in Brooklyn.
After pondering the thought for a few moments, Rasheed finally came to the conclusion that he didn’t want to live in Atlanta anymore. After living there with his older brother, Karim, for almost two years, it was time to go back home. The bottom line was that Southern living wasn’t for Rasheed Gordon, a native New Yorker. He thought that Atlanta was a great city, and looked even better on the videos that flashed across his television. The novelty of living in a new city had worn off.
Karim Gordon had made a substantial amount of money in real estate and promoting in the city of Atlanta, but Rasheed knew that it was no place for a man like him. Down there, he was an unknown, merely a shadowy figure that lurked behind his big brother. He yearned to be back in the five boroughs, in his Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood, where he was a shining star and loved by many.
At the beckoning of Karim, Rasheed thought that his life would be much better in Atlanta than it was in Brooklyn. And it was. It was just too slow for him. Rasheed found himself missing the fast-paced action of New York City and the eclectic mix of people who lived there.
The Gordons were a well-known family in their Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood. Miss Carrie, the matriarch of the clan, raised all seven of her children along with Karim and Rasheed right on Halsey Street. The
Karim and Rasheed came to live with Miss Carrie when they were only seven and five years old, respectively. Their mother, Lavon, was murdered by their abusive father, Jihad, who eventually killed himself too. It was an adjustment for the brothers, who had lived the early years of their lives under the strict rules of their Muslim father.
For Karim, the living arrangement worked out fine, but Rasheed proved to be the hardheaded child. The shock of losing his parents to such tragedy obviously had a long-term effect on him. He chose to follow in the footsteps of his much older uncles and become one with the streets, as if he had something to prove. Unfortunately, it took him numerous scrapes with the law and brushes with death to see that the streets didn’t have love for anyone.
After his oldest uncle, Peppy, was killed by Dominican drug dealers, the surviving Gordon brothers—Nayshawn, Shaka, and Kemper—did a 360-degree turnaround. They took their hustling proceeds and obtained all sorts of businesses: a tire and autobody shop, a construction company, and younger sister Carrie opened a beauty parlor.
Ironically, Miss Carrie was a registered nurse for many years and was more than happy that her unruly children had finally come to their senses. Even though his uncles got their lives on track, Rasheed still chose to sell drugs and live a reckless lifestyle when he had access to jobs and money. He had to admit that the jail bids that he had done were because of some bad choices he’d made in the past. But it was the streets that he craved that caused him to have no regard for the law.
Rasheed walked over to the huge stand-up mirror that was tucked in the corner of his oversized bedroom. He looked in the mirror, wrapped his long locks in a ponytail, and flexed his prominent biceps, posing from every angle. Rasheed smiled and patted his chest.
A nigga looks pretty damn good to be thirty-three years old, Rasheed thought.
Looking at his reflection also made him think about his mother, Lavon. She was a gorgeous woman, with long, wavy hair, and her skin was the color of bronze, inherited from her own mother, Miss Carrie Gordon. Even though Rasheed had heard it numerous times, it wasn’t until adulthood that he realized that he actually was a male replica of his mother. He moved closer to the mirror to inspect himself. Rasheed shook his head in amazement.
“Damn, I do look like Mommy,” he said to himself. “God bless her soul.”
Rasheed looked around the room and sighed. He had recently expressed to Karim how he felt about moving back home. Rasheed knew that any mention of him wanting to leave Atlanta would not sit right with his serious-minded brother. Preparing himself for an argument, Rasheed felt his heart beating rapidly through his chest as he called out to Karim from his bedroom.
“Yo, Karim!” Rasheed shouted. “Can you make my plane reservations for me?” Realizing that he was kind of loud, he turned around to look at the sleeping female in his bed. She didn’t flinch. Rasheed shook his head.
This broad looks real comfortable in my bed and I can’t even sleep right now, Rasheed thought. Rasheed shook his head. He was going to be kicking her out real soon.
A laugh could be heard coming from the kitchen. “Hell no! You’re a grown man with your own money. You can make your own reservations. That’s the problem now. You’re always waitin’ for somebody to do somethin’ for you.”
Rasheed walked out of his bedroom. He slowly walked down the stairs that led to the kitchen area.
“C’mon, Karim. Are you serious? Can you make that call for me? You know that I’m not good with things like that and the money isn’t an issue. It’s just that I was all set to go to New York this week!” Rasheed said with a sour look on his face. He was also anticipating being home in time for the second birthday of his son, Messiah. It looked like that wasn’t going to happen.
Karim stood in the kitchen wearing a Ralph Lauren robe and slippers while fixing his breakfast. He was just as handsome as Rasheed, just shorter and stockier like their deceased father, Jihad. Although they were brothers, their differences were obvious. Karim was the calmer of the two, and while he didn’t take mess from anyone, he was the logical thinker. Rasheed was the brother who was quick to fight or pick up a weapon to settle his disagreements with violence.
Karim believed that he had too much invested and had worked too hard to throw away his life for that kind of temperament. This was one of the reasons why he wanted Rasheed by his side. His brother was the wild child of the Gordon family and Karim thought that moving Rasheed to Atlanta was a good idea, especially after he was shot in New York almost three years ago.
Annoyed with the constant talk of Brooklyn and Rasheed’s refusal to conform to their laid-back lifestyle, Karim was secretly glad to see him go at that point.
After pouring some egg whites into a frying pan, Karim turned the fire down to medium and looked at his younger brother.
“I done already told your stubborn ass—if you wanna go back to Brooklyn, then that’s on you,” he replied.
“That means make your own plane reservations for your trip. I don’t want no part of it.”
Rasheed rubbed his hands through his neat locks. “Sounds like you have an attitude because I wanna move back to New York.” He looked around the spacious four-bedroom house that Karim called home. “Don’t get me wrong, this is a nice layout, but I gotta get outta here, man. Ain’t nothin’ down here for me,” Rasheed exclaimed.
Karim turned his eggs over and checked on his turkey bacon that was frying in another pan. He poured some Tropicana orange juice in a glass and sipped it. After a few seconds passed, Karim looked at Rasheed.
“So what am I supposed to do about that? You’ve been livin’ down here for the last two years and some change, and even made a good name for yourself here in Atlanta. You had the opportunity to reinvent yourself, to become a better man and make an honest livin’. Now you wanna throw all this shit away to move back to Brooklyn? You’re crazy!”
Karim placed the glass of orange juice on the granite countertop and waved his hand at Rasheed.
“All I can say is that if you move back to New York and you get into some more shit, don’t call me!” Karim added, taking a bite of some toast.
Rasheed smirked. “So it’s like that? Don’t call you, huh?”
Karim turned his back to Rasheed and continued to prepare his breakfast. “You know, Rah, you was never a nigga who listened to any reason. You always had to be the one to do the exact opposite of what anyone told you to do. But you’d think that after all you went through in New York, you would wanna stay here in Atlanta.”
Getting even more aggravated with Rasheed’s request, Karim turned around with the cooking spatula in his hand.
“Now, I’m not Nana, I’m not Nayshawn or Shaka and I damn sure ain’t Kemp, who cosigns a lot of your bullshit. The first time I suggested that you move to Atlanta, you wanted to bring your thievin’ girlfriend, Tamir, down here with you. I said no to that. Then you dumped her for Sierra Howell, the correction officer you met when you were locked up on Rikers for your last parole violation. Now when you’re released from jail, you have nothin’ but drama with Tamir and Sierra goin’ at each other’s throats.
“So I give you another invitation to come down here, to put all of that drama behind you when Tyke, Sierra’s ex-man, comes home from jail. This opens another can of worms because you and Tyke never got along with each other growin’ up. You and Tyke started beefin’ over Sierra and he ends up killin’ Tamir to get back at you! Then to keep him from killin’ you and Sierra, you put a hit out on him!”
Karim continued as Rasheed just stood there, with a bored look on his face as he listened to his own drama. “So after all that, you end up gettin’ shot by some homo-thug dude named Scooter who you were locked up with on Rikers. By this time, you had no other choice but to move down here.
