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Tiaz was bussed from the courthouse to the County jail. After going through all of the bullshit they put a person through when he first came through that shithole, he made his way to the telephone, slapping hands with the cats he knew and mad dogging others. He was surprised at how his name was ringing off behind the walls. Dudes were talking about how he was putting it down and giving it up in the streets. Although he got some love, he knew he’d also feel the hate. The two coincided with one another. It wouldn’t be long before he had to set a mothafucka straight so they’d know that he wasn’t one for the bullshit.
Tiaz pushed the thought of having to check a nigga to the back of his mental. Right now, he was focused on getting in touch with someone on the outside so they could get his money and hire him a decent lawyer.
Tiaz stepped to the payphone and reached for the receiver. Before his hand could grasp it, a bony one grabbed it. His eyes followed the bony hand, up its arm and over to the face of the body it belonged to. It was in the possession of a dark-skinned man with nappy hair and some serious acne. His face looked like plastic bubble wrap and his eyes were as yellow as lemons. His uniform was two sizes too small so his limbs looked like tree branches coming out of his sleeves and pants. He sized the thug up, studying him as if he was the tallest stack of shit he’d ever laid eyes on.
“My man, now I know you aren’t tryna use my phone without asking?” Dark-skinned asked.
“Your phone?” Tiaz frowned. “I don’t see your name on the mothafucka.”
“The hell you don’t.” Dark-skinned pointed to the name on the phone.
“Your name is Pacific Bell?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Ya damn skippy, now pay up.” Dark-skinned rubbed his thumb and index finger together. “What chu got, money? Commissary?”
“How about an ass whopping?” Tiaz punched him in the mouth with all of his might. The force behind the punch was so great that it caused him to bump the back of his head on the wall and slide down to the floor. The dark-skinned man’s bottom jaw split straight down the middle and his grill quickly filled with blood as he tried to push the separated halves back together. The pain was so intense that it brought tears to his eyes. Tiaz went to work on him, kicking and stomping him as he held his arms up trying to shield his face.
Tiaz was so occupied with giving the man the business that he neglected to watch his back. A look of surprise came over him when he felt sharp metal puncturing his back and ribcage. He swung around with his full strength, bringing his balled fist across the jaw of a stockier, muscular cat. The blow caught the man off guard and caused him to stagger to the side, but he held tight to his shank. He righted himself before he could fall and wiped his bleeding mouth with the back of his hand.
His eyes took on a frightening glint and a satanic grin emerged on his face. The sight of blood seemed to entice him. He charged at Tiaz. The thug sidestepped him, grabbed the back on his neck and gripped his wrist. He twisted his wrist so hard and fast that a sharp pain shot through it. It was the equivalent of piercing the skin with a hot needle and it made the man drop his shank. The man’s mind was quickly taken off of his wrist when his face smashed into the wall and his forehead split open like a coconut. The man fell to the floor in a heap, groaning in pain. He slowly made to get up when the cats Tiaz knew from the hood finally rushed in and mopped him and the dark-skinned man up. All he could do was watch before collapsing to the floor from blood loss. An alarm blared inside of his ears. The last thing he saw were the C.O.s suited and booted in riot gear rushing in to restore order.