Black Love AKA She's a ryder

By Hood Chronicles

She's A Ryder is the highly anticipated third installment in Hood Chronicles’ Black Love series. When Ahmad, the love of Camille's life, is sentenced to prison, she finds herself plagued with an age-old question: will she ride with him or die emotionally without him? Ahmad’s journey into a new world of brutality behind bars forces him to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to cope with the chaos that surrounds him. Choosing to free Camille and focus on survival, Ahmad ends their relationship, creating a void in her heart that yearns to be filled. Searching for love in all of the wrong places, Camille finds herself on the arms of one of the most notorious gangsters after a series of failed suitors. Meanwhile, on the inside, Ahmad establishes ties with a female corrections officer in order to keep money circulating while releasing sexual frustrations. In this gripping tale of struggling romance, both parties try their best to escape the inevitable when it comes to their hearts innermost desires for one another. With violence, deception, and destruction in their every direction, happily ever after is a reality in which neither can foresee. Follow Ahmad and Camille’s thrilling story as an unconditional love unfolds like never before!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hood Chronicles
• Release date: May 23, 2017

Book preview

Chapter 1

Incarcerated Hearts

The courtroom was in silence awaiting the jury’s decision as Ahmad prayed to hear a not guilty verdict. He looked back at his loving girlfriend whose eyes were filled with tears. Ahmad was facing fifteen years for an armed robbery charge. Originally, he was also facing murder charges, but his co-defendant entered a guilty plea in order to save his partner from bearing such a great burden.

Camille didn’t know what to do as her man awaited the juror’s decision. It seemed like only yesterday that the two were making love and holding each other so happily in one another’s arms. Images of how the two first met danced through Camille’s mind.

As a freshman, Camille worked as an office aide at the school. One day while passing out passes to the teachers, she ran across Ahmad.

What’s up, pretty lady? he asked, grasping her attention.

Not a thing, she replied with a small smirk across her young lips.

Oh, really. Well, where you headed in such a rush? he questioned as he noticed her pace remained speedy.

I’m headed back to the main office to finish my work.

Oh, you one of them good little girls? he teased, opening the hallway doors for her.

And I see you’re a gentleman.

He smiled. Yeah, I’ll be that for you.

Camille couldn’t help but to blush.

Ahmad was a sophomore, and all the girls talked about how cute he was. They also talked about his no-nonsense reputation. The boys feared him, and the girls wanted him.

Camille gave Ahmad a chance and fell in love with him. She was surprised at all the affection and romance he showed her. He displayed an absolutely different side of himself to her. As the two grew more involved and became closer, Ahmad had no choice but to show her his gangsta attitude.

Camille loved the way he handled business. For her whole life, she had been kept under her parents’ watchful eye. However, Ahmad began to show her that dangerous side of life that she began to crave. He taught her to cook dope and shoot a gun. All the activities of the underworld that he engaged in, Camille was a part of it.

The two high school sweethearts became inseparable. Although five years later, it seemed that separation was almost an assured thing. Once Camille graduated from high school, she moved to the Midwest to attend college. Ahmad dropped out his senior year. Her family disowned her after she dropped out her freshman year to be with Ahmad. He never wanted her to quit school, but it became unbearable to be away from him for so long.

She moved in with him and took a job as a data entry clerk at a bank. Camille only made ten dollars an hour, but judging from the way her and Ahmad lived, you couldn’t tell. Ahmad stayed grinding in the streets, hustling all ways possible. He moved up from pounds to kilos, his robbing crew terrorized local clubs, and he gambled with the big boys every chance he got. Ahmad was definitely a trick of all trades.

At this very moment, it seemed that all his tricks had caught up with him.

Guilty! the jurors exclaimed.

Ahmad dropped his head as the reality of their words crushed him. A tear never left his eyes as he looked back at Camille. She was the exact opposite. Ahmad watched as she wailed in tears for her man.

No! Please don’t take him away from me! she cried. Please! Her cries were to no avail. Camille looked on as the officers took Ahmad back to his holding cell.

After a year of fighting this case and being away from her man, Camille had just watched him get sent away for what seemed like an eternity. Camille dropped her head into her hands while her cousin, India, caressed her shoulders.

Don’t worry, boo. It ain’t the end of the world, India spoke.

He’ll be back soon? Camille asked, raising her teary eyes to face her cousin.

Yes, he will, her cousin confirmed.

And I’ll be waiting on that day. Ain’t nothing going to stand between me and him being together. Our love is forever, Camille said, trying to lift her own spirits.

India wiped her cousin’s wet eyes as the two exited the courtroom and headed home.

****

All the other inmates watched as Ahmad entered his pod and went directly to his room. They knew that this signified an ugly turnout. Eazy, Ahmad’s cellmate, sat up as Ahmad entered.

Didn’t go well, huh? he asked.

Not at all. Ahmad hopped on his bunk. Fifteen years with the possibility of parole.

Hey, that’s good news! At least you know if you keep your nose clean that they might parole you out. Ahmad took a look at his cellmate and looked back at the ceiling. Yeah, you’re right, his cellmate confirmed. With your attitude, you’ll be doing fifteen to the door.

What the fuck that supposed to mean? Ahmad said, leaping to his feet on the offense.

It means exactly what you’re doing now. Jumping off the deep end. If you go down the road with the rapid-fire mentality you got now, man, you gonna end up killing somebody, Eazy admonished.

Ahmad had grown close to Eazy over his year in the County. Eazy was already in prison for killing five men. He was back in the County on appeal. Ahmad respected Eazy because he handled and minded his own business.

Eazy took a liking to Ahmad as well. After serving ten years in already, he had seen a lot of dumb, young men. Ahmad was different. He was young, but far from dumb. Eazy was in his mid-thirties. Ahmad was a fresh twenty.

And catch more time, Eazy finished.

His words echoed through Ahmad’s head. Ahmad knew that he was prone to snap on anybody at any given time. He learned that mentality from the streets. If you play, expect to be played, he always told himself.

Sit down, young’n, Eazy said, placing his muscular arms on Ahmad’s frail shoulders. Listen, this is the time to clear your mind. You’re headed on a real journey, young brother, and it ain’t gonna be all peaches and cream. Muthafuckas gonna try you, and you can’t beat everybody. You can try, but trust me, Eazy said, raising his shirt.

Ahmad looked at the stab wounds his body displayed. It always made him nauseous whenever he seen it.

Eazy continued. If you don’t wanna end up like this, then trust me. Use your head more than your hands.

Ahmad lay down on his bunk and thought of all the dangers he would have to face. As he lay, a tear finally shed from his eye as he thought of Camille. Damn, I’m gonna miss you, baby, he whispered to himself.

Eazy watched as Smurf invited himself into their cell with his loud mouth flapping. Eazy knew that Ahmad couldn’t stand Smurf, and usually kept the two far apart. Smurf was the same age as Ahmad but had the sense of a circus clown. Eazy tried to talk to him as he did all the youth he crossed, but Smurf was bent on being a thug for life as he would chant.

With a slight smirk, Eazy remained quiet. He knew that Ahmad would have to vent his frustration, and what better way than on a knucklehead.

Who told you to come pass that threshold? Ahmad asked.

I did. You know I make my own rules, Smurf boldly replied.

Listen, this ain’t the time to be playing with me!

Nigga, I don’t play. I came to get something to eat, Smurf said, going into Ahmad’s locker box.

Wrong box! Eazy stated.

Oh, my bad. I thought this was yours, Eazy.

Nigga, you get shit from my bunkmate everyday! You ain’t never went in my locker. You know which is which, muthafucka! Ahmad exploded, hopping to his feet.

Nigga, calm down. Honest mistake, Smurf replied. Hey, this your bitch? Smurf stood pointing at a picture of Camille taped to the locker box door.

Eazy tapped Ahmad on the leg, signaling for him to simmer down.

No, that’s my lady, nigga, Ahmad calmly replied.

Smurf laughed. She’s a real dime piece. Mind if I keep her warm while you bidding? he joked.

Eazy took a look up at Ahmad, knowing that common sense had just left the building. Ahmad threw a right hook, spinning Smurf in a three-sixty. Then he grabbed him by his head and rammed it into the wall. Eazy simply shook his head as Ahmad went to work on the young fool. Smurf pleaded for mercy as blood leaked from his nose. Ahmad refused to let up.

Bitch nigga, I’ll kill you! Ahmad exclaimed, kicking Smurf under the sink in the corner of the small cell.

A crowd quickly came to see what all the commotion was about. Eazy didn’t like for everyone to be at his cell door. He was a vet. He knew that was the only thing that signaled to the police that something was going down.

Chill out! That’s enough, Eazy said, grabbing Ahmad.

Two more inmates grabbed Smurf and took him out of their cell.

I should go and kill that muthafucka, Eazy! Ahmad snapped.

Why? Don’t you ever want to go home?

Man, I ain’t no sucka! What? I’m supposed to just let niggas try me? Ahmad questioned in heat.

I didn’t say that. All I’m stressing is that you gotta learn to keep your composure. What you gonna do when it’s a million Smurfs in your dorm with you?

Man, fuck this shit! Ahmad exited his cell.

Eazy let out a sigh as he watched Ahmad leave. Boy oh boy! I’m going to pray for you.

Ahmad walked down the steps over to the five telephones hanging on the walls. He grabbed one and quickly dialed Camille’s number.

****

Camille lay stretched out on her bed going through photo albums of her and Ahmad together. India flipped through the television stations as she kept her cousin company. Ever since Ahmad had gotten locked up, India remained by her cousin’s side. She had practically moved in.

When the phone started to ring, Camille raced to answer it. Hello?

You have a collect call from Ahmad, the operator said with Ahmad’s greeting.

Camille quickly accepted his call. Baby, you alright? she asked.

Yeah, as alright as I’m gonna be.

I already miss you, boo, she replied with her sexy baby voice.

Shit, how you think I feel? All that good pussy you carrying around, I been beating my dick like it stole my money, he joked.

Camille giggled into the phone. Nigga, you still crazy.

I’ll never change.

That’s good. I’ll do the same, she promised.

That’s what I’m talking about.

Is that Ahmad? Let me holla at him! India exclaimed.

Hold on, boo, India wanna holla. She handed her cousin the line.

What’s up, boo? India started.

Shit, slow motion, he answered.

I just wanted to tell you to keep ya head up ‘cause we gonna hold you down out here.

I appreciate it.

Here’s your girl, though. She looking like she about to bust me in the head, so let me let y’all talk, India joked.

Ahmad called Camille back ten times that night. He would’ve called more if they didn’t have to lock down.

That night, Camille lay in her bed feening for Ahmad. She squirmed in-between her sheets, reflecting on how he put his thing down. She began to ooze as she pictured the two making love. Camille reminisced over the last time she felt his masculine touch. Ahmad always knew how to please her. He knew all her hot spots, and did his best to make sure her pleasure came before his.

Camille let her hands slide down into her panties and went to work. Before she knew it, she was fondling herself as she lay imaging Ahmad’s nude figure. Camille fiddled with her clit while dunking her free fingers inside her sugary walls. She began to moan as vivid pictures of her and Ahmad at play flashed in her mind.

Camille reached down to her voluptuous bosom and began to pull on her erect nipple. She bit down on her lip as she anxiously awaited her climax. After a few more minutes of self-love, Camille let out a gigantic groan as she came all over her fingertips. Her legs quaked as she tried to regain her composure.

After she was done, she went into the shower to clean herself up. Damn, I miss my baby, she said to herself as she cleansed her body. It’s all good, though, ‘cause we gon’ make it.

****

Ahmad lay in his bed thinking of his love. I can’t believe this shit, he thought. All of his dreams, desires, and wants had to be put on hold because of one disastrous decision. He thought of his actions and evaluated the actions of his entire life.

Ahmad knew he was a menace. He never denied it, but now he wished he could go back. Many nights he played back the horrible night that his case took place. Everything seemed so perfect . . . until Zaye opened fire.

Let’s just get this bread and vacate as soon as possible, Ahmad said.

Zaye exhaled a cloud of weed smoke and cocked back his nine millimeter. Shit, I been ready.

Nigga, don’t go in here getting trigga happy. Move in; move out, Ahmad commanded.

The two entered the convenience store with their masks on and went straight into action.

Nobody move. Nobody get hurt! Ahmad said, waving his chrome glocks at the three customers in line.

Zaye gathered the other four shoppers and brought them to the front. Everybody throw your jewelry in this bag, and don’t say a word, he instructed, handing a man the sack.

Ahmad hopped over the counter and told the cashier to put everything in his bag. The cashier did as instructed. Ahmad watched as he tossed bundles of money into the bag. When all the registers and safes were empty, Ahmad patted the elderly man on the back.

Good job. Let’s roll! he said, hopping back over the counter and heading for the exit.

Zaye watched as Ahmad broke out of the store.

Ahmad quickly placed the sacks into the trunk of his car and pulled up to the store. What the hell is he doing? he asked himself as he noticed Zaye still in the store.

Ahmad’s eyes grew enormous as he watched him let off two shots into the old man at the register. He burst out of the door and hopped into the car.

Man, what the fuck is wrong with you? Ahmad exploded.

Man, he hit the button! Ride on before the folks get here! Zaye cried.

Shit! Ahmad exclaimed, hitting the gas.

It took a week for the two to be apprehended. A witness watched the whole thing from the time the two put their masks on to the time they peeled out. The lady made careful observations as she watched from a payphone outside of the store.

Ahmad played back the whole incident in his head before awakening back to his incarcerated reality. He tried to think about Camille, but even those thoughts became intertwined with negativity. Is she a ryder, or is she just waiting to jump ship? he thought.

Smurf’s words echoed in his mind: Can I keep her warm? Ahmad knew that Smurf definitely wouldn’t be the one, but someone had to. Nobody could last that long. Ahmad, however, couldn’t picture Camille giving his loving away. Of course, she promised to stick by his side, but Ahmad just couldn’t see it. True, she stayed down this long, but it was over now. He had been sentenced, and his time had to be served.

It wouldn’t be fair for me to keep her on hold anyway. I did this, and I gotta pay the price, not Camille. She deserves to live her life, he whispered to himself.

In reality, he didn’t want to lose her, but it didn’t feel right to keep her. Besides, he couldn’t trust that she would be faithful to him behind bars. With the ego Ahmad possessed, he couldn’t just sit back and be played.

Ahmad was simply confused. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. Only moments ago, the two exchanged laughs, shared romantic memories, and elevated each other’s minds. Yet, Ahmad knew that as time went on, all of that would flourish. He didn’t want to sit around and wait for it to happen. Ahmad always wanted to be in control of his own destiny. If he and Camille had to end, then he was going to be the one to put an end to their relationship.

Ahmad closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Before his subconscious took over, he had already made his mind up. He was going to let Camille know the deal on his next visit.

****

Camille sprayed Ahmad’s favorite perfume on her body as she prepared to go and visit her man. At the tender age of nineteen, she was a sight for sore eyes and a virtue for the vivacious. Camille stood at five-three, weighing around one hundred and forty-five pounds.

She gently squeezed her luscious hips and thick buttocks into her tight-fitting denim jeans. Then she placed her petite and polished feet into a pair of cute sandals. She pulled a powder blue halter-top over her voluptuous breasts and tied her hair back into a long ponytail.

Her chocolate complexion glistened as she stepped outside into the sun. Camille took her Donna Karan shades and placed them over her beautiful chestnut colored eyes.

All the people waiting to visit their incarcerated folks watched as Camille entered the jail.

Hello, I’m here to visit Ahmad Jenkins, Camille said to the officer seated at the front desk. She already had her identification presented for him to check.

Alright. Just take a seat over there, he said, pointing into the waiting area. We’ll let you go up and see him when he’s ready.

Thanks.

As she made her way to find a seat, all eyes were on her as she waited for her man. Camille was too focused on Ahmad to even pay any of the men gawking at her any attention. She had been wondering why he hadn’t called her in the last few days. As long as he had been locked up, he never missed a day. She hoped he was all right.

Maybe he’s just trying to deal with this sentence on his own, she thought. Well, I won’t let him. We’re in this together. She smiled to herself.

Camille Jackson! the officer at the front desk called.

She happily hopped to her feet and rushed to the desk. Yes, sir.

Here you go, he said, handing her back her identification.

Can I go up now?

I’m sorry, ma’am, but your friend denied your visit.

Camille’s smile quickly turned upside down. He denied my visit? she repeated, confused.

That’s what I said.

You’re kidding, right?

Ma’am, good-bye, the officer replied coldly.

Camille couldn’t believe it. She exited the county jail furious. I know this nigga didn’t! she exclaimed, flying down the highway.

India watched as Camille burst into the house.

What you doing back so early? she questioned, eating a pint of ice cream.

I can’t believe this shit! Camille snapped.

India placed her ice cream down on the coffee table. What’s the matter?

Ahmad refused my visit.

He did what?

He ain’t been calling like usual, and now this! Something is terribly wrong.

I can’t explain that, India replied.

I know one thing, I’m going to sit by this phone and wait for him to call me. There has to be a good explanation for this one.

A week had flown by, and Camille still hadn’t received a call from Ahmad.

India watched her cousin come in from work. Girl, you look beat, she commented.

Did Ahmad call? was Camille’s only response.

No, he didn’t, India replied dryly.

I can’t believe this. Camille plopped down beside her cousin. What have I done? Tears began to flow down her face as the pain became unbearable.

India couldn’t stand to see her cousin like this. Listen, he’s denied three of your visits. He won’t call. I don’t know who this nigga think he is. I do know that he should be glad to have a beautiful, intelligent sista such as yourself going out of her way to come and try to see his black ass! India snapped. Look, if he can’t appreciate you, then to hell with him. I can’t stand to see you crying over a nigga. Girl, this world full of them!

I don’t want no any nigga. I want my nigga, Camille said, drying her eyes.

You can’t want a nigga that don’t want you, India replied coldly.

Camille gave her cousin a cold stare. I can’t believe you just said that.

Truth hurts.

Camille made her way to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. I want some answers, she said, grabbing a pen and some paper. And it won’t be over until I get some.

‘Dear Ahmad’ . . . she began to write.

Chapter 2

Tragic Endings and New Beginnings

All the inmates at the county jail gathered in the middle of the dorm around the officer as he began to call names for mail.

Ahmad Jenkins! the officer yelled.

Yeah, right here, Ahmad answered, retrieving his letter. He shook his head as he read Camille’s name across the envelope. This girl just won’t take a hint, he whispered to himself.

He entered his cell, sat on his bunk, and began to read her missive.

Dear, Ahmad, he started. "Baby, I write you this letter with mixed emotions. In all honesty, I don’t know where I stand with you, and the torment of my uncertainty is fast becoming unbearable. It’s hard to believe that only a short time ago we had such a loving relationship. To me, it is even more difficult to comprehend why you would throw all that away with one blink of an eye.

"If I had said or done something to hurt you deeply, then I could accept such a reaction, but I haven’t. So, what could the cause be off this sudden cooling of emotions? Ahmad, I love you very much, but I am confused and bewildered by your unreasonable behavior. If there is something that is bothering you, tell me about it.

"I am confident that our love will enable us to work things out, but if you let your emotions get the best of you, all will be lost. If you only knew how much you mean to me and how much this situation hurts me!

Boo, when you receive this letter, I hope that you’ll find it in your heart to call me tonight. If not, I’ll be coming to visit you again on Tuesday. Please, don’t have me drive all the way down there only to be turned away. Ahmad, I love you! he said as he finished her last words.

****

Camille sat impatiently waiting for the officer to either let her see Ahmad, or tell her to leave.

Camille Jackson! he called from his desk.

Yes, sir, she replied, preparing for another let down.

You can head on up, the officer stated with a grin.

A huge smile spread across Camille’s face as she hopped on the elevator. Once the elevator doors opened, she went straight into the first booth and took her seat. She was anxious to see Ahmad. Her eyes grew large as she watched him from the other side of the window coming into view. She thought he was still fine, even in his county blues.

Camille loved his thin, trimmed sideburns and low cut fade with waves swirling all around his head. His peanut butter skin complexion seemed to gleam as he sat down in the booth.

Ahmad’s firm demeanor still hadn’t changed. No signs of happiness were shown on his face or body language. What’s up? he asked dryly, speaking into the tiny holes in the window.

That’s what I been trying to figure out, baby. Things ain’t been the same lately, Camille admitted.

How could it be? We in two different worlds, Ahmad replied.

Camille smiled. Baby, you’ll never leave out of my world.

That’s a lie. I’m already gone.

Camille couldn’t believe his harsh words. What the hell are you talking about, Ahmad?

Ahmad dropped his head, not wanting to do the inevitable. Listen, he started, ain’t no use in trying to hold on to what we had. It’s over, Camille.

Ahmad’s words felt like a knife carving into her heart. Tears instantly dropped from her eyes as she looked at him confused.

I can’t do this, and you can’t do this. We’d never last, Camille. These muthafuckas just gave me fifteen fucking years! Ahmad snapped, growing angry.

I wouldn’t give a fuck if they gave you a hundred years! I love you, and this is how you’re going to do me? Camille exploded.

"I’m sorry, but what’s done is done. You can go and move on with your life without