Free California Connection 2 (Califronia Connection) by Chunichi Page A

clear.
    One of the officers approached me. “Can I get your ID?”
    I searched every pocket for my wallet. Fuck! I thought to myself in a panic. I had left my wallet in the hotel room.
    “No ID?” the officer asked, noticing my frustration.
    “Nah, man. I can give you my name, date of birth, and social, though,” I said, knowing I had the information from my fake ID memorized.
    I ran off the information to the officer as if it was my own. He jotted it down and went back to his car to run a check. I waited patiently with a few others, as another cop watched over us.
    Minutes later, the first officer returned. “Mr. Jones,” he called out to me, while pulling out his handcuffs.
    What the fuck ! I wondered what the hell was going on. I didn’t respond, I just looked at him with face of confusion.
    “We’re gonna have to take you in, son. You have an outstanding warrant out for nonpayment of child support.”
    I be damn! I knew I should have stayed my black ass in Cali. There is no way one man’s luck could be so fucked up! I already knew what was in store for me. Once I got to the jail, they would run my fingerprints and find out who I really was. From there, I would be extradited to VA. My shit was fucked up. I was going straight to jail without a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Chapter 15
     
    “The Wedding’s Off”
     
    Touch
    W hen I’d gotten home from the barbershop, I’d planned to let Jewel’s conniving ass have it. But the rational side of me just couldn’t allow that to happen so quickly. It took all I had, but I went on with the days as usual while I decided on the best way to approach things.
    I was the type of nigga that liked to have all my ducks in a row, so when I came with it, I came hard. I liked to be confident that it wasn’t shit a bitch or nigga could say to lie their way out of things. I knew I was about to make a hell of an allegation, so I wanted to be sure I had my facts straight when I did it.
    After running that day at the barbershop through my head over and over, along with all the other shit that had happened during New Year’s, I was sure that bitch was on some sheisty shit. My fucking blood was boiling as I waited patiently for her to come in from the beauty salon.
    When she got home, she rushed up to me all kissy-poo and shit. She was wearing leggings, a fitted sweater dress that grabbed tight to every curve of her perfect body, and was smelling of my favorite perfume, Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb. I had to admit, that shit was quite tempting, but that alone wasn’t gonna work this day. I had to give it to her though. She was a good actress. She could’ve won a fucking Academy Award for the act she put on, and she could have really fooled an amateur, but I wasn’t buying the bullshit she was selling.
    Before I could dig into her ass, I noticed she had some broad with her. I rolled my eyes at this woman, but Jewel didn’t seem to pay me any attention. “Who is this?” I grunted, glaring at her new woman friend. I thought Jewel would have learned her lesson with Sasha.
    “Oh, baby, this is Misty. Don’t you remember? She’s the nurse who took care of us when we were in the hospital. And, lo and behold, she does freelance wedding planning on the side. I hired her as our wedding planner.”
    “We don’t need a wedding planner,” I mumbled.
    Misty must have picked up my bad mood, because she grabbed her oversized Chanel bag and stepped toward the door. “Well, I’ll see you, Jewel. We’ll talk later.”
    “Okay, Misty.” Jewel walked her to the door and waved to her.
    “Bye, Jewel. Talk to you soon.”
    Jewel turned back to me like nothing was wrong and said, “Baby, come check out my bridesmaids’ colors. They’re going to wear lavender. I don’t want no loud, ghetto-looking colors. Yeah, baby, this wedding is gonna have class all the way.”
    I followed Jewel to her computer room, where she had all the latest bridal magazines spread out on the floor, an indication