The Streets Keep Calling Read Online Free Page B

I came, she let it shoot all over her face. Trixy was a real freak. We fucked three times within four hours and she still wanted more. But fuck that, I was done. Fucking with Trixy, I would end up missing my appointment with my parole officer. This girl was on a mission, and she definitely proved to me she was all grown up now.
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    The chirping sound of the alarm clock woke me at seven o’clock in the morning. That shit was like music to my ears. I preferred that any day over the sound of a prison guard shouting at me, “Motherfucker, get the hell up! Chow time.” When I got home after that long night with Trixy, I made sure I set the alarm so I didn’t miss my first appointment with my parole officer. I hopped out of the bed and headed to the bathroom. As I brushed my teeth, bacon and eggs began lingering in the air. After putting on my clothes, last night came to mind. Damn, that pussy was good. Trixy wore my ass out. She’s definitely not a virgin anymore. I knew from that day I was going to continue to get into that tight little cave on a regular basis. Even though I had a hell of a time with Trixy the night before, I still couldn’t get my wife off my mind. My face instantly frowned up, and my heart started to pound when I thought about what that bitch had said to me about giving up my parental rights so she could let another nigga raise my kids. I’ll be dead before I have some next nigga playing Daddy to my kids. I felt the rage start to build up inside me, so I had to stop myself and get back on track. I looked in the mirror as I spoke to myself, “Today is a brand new beginning for me. I’m at my crossroads and will go the right way. I will not let bitches, money, or the streets bring me down. The meeting with my parole officer is top priority today.”
    After getting my thoughts and priorities back on track, I headed to the kitchen, where my moms was hard at work cooking breakfast.
    â€œMorning, Ma,” I greeted her, with a kiss on the cheek. She had made a feast for me. My favorite meal of the day had always been breakfast.
    â€œHey, baby, how did you sleep last night?” she asked with one hand turning over frying bacon and the other holding a cigarette.
    â€œPretty good.”
    â€œLet me fix you a plate to get your day started off right,” she offered.
    â€œThanks, Ma. Before I went in, you promised me you would stop smoking,” I reminded her.
    â€œWith stress from my job, bills, and you locked up, I needed something to help me cope. I’ll tell you what, Breeze. If you can go out there and get a job, I’ll quit smoking cold turkey,” she vowed while laying my plate on the kitchen table in front of me.
    â€œIt’s a deal,” I agreed. While I ate, I tried not to think about Maria’s conniving ass, but the bitch kept popping back up. This chick won’t even let me see my own damn kids. Every time I thought about her, my head started hurting.
    I rushed and finished my food, then headed out the door. I wanted to make sure I was at least thirty minutes early for my appointment. I thought that would impress my parole officer. From what I’d heard, a P.O. could make or break you, and I damn sure didn’t need anyone else going against me. My odds of survival were bad enough already. Once I was on the bus, I decided I would relax on the way there and have my daily conversation with my main man upstairs. I figured if I put it in his hands, I’d be okay. I put my hand on the cross hanging off the necklace Moses had given me, and closed my eyes.
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    â€œByron Miller,” a man called out as I waited in the foyer. Once I got up, he led me to his office. I didn’t know what to expect.
    â€œYour name is Byron Miller?” he questioned.
    â€œYeah.” I nodded.
    â€œWell, son, my name is Winston Hicks and I’m going to be your parole officer,” he explained while pulling out a cup from his desk