Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do

by Shvonne Latrice

“Damn, well how many fucking points I got now?”

  “About negative ten.”

  “For what?” I frowned, looking her up and down.

  “You were late, you didn’t open the door for me when we walked into the restaurant, and I had to tell you to pull my chair out.”

  “I mean, I’ve never had to do any of that before.”

  “Because you’re used to going on dates with hood rats I bet.”

  “Fuck you.”

  She laughed for the first time since I’d met her, so it made me smile back at her.

  “How old are you, Manny?”

  “I’m twenty-five.”

  “Yeah, too old to not be automatically opening doors and pulling out chairs. You’re lucky you’re cute, otherwise…” She bucked her eyes and shook her head as she closed the menu.

  “So I’m cute?” I gave her my signature look that got all the panties wet.

  “Yeah, you are. And stop with that face; you look dumb.”

  I was baffled as hell by her statement, but I wasn’t gon’ let her see me sweat.

  “You’re the only one who thinks so. I get all types of females with that face and every muthafuckin’ thing else I got going for me.”

  “Well then why are you so hell-bent on taking me out? Because you’re not going to get sex from me.”

  “That’s now.”

  “No, that’s always. Not unless you marry me, which I highly doubt you will do.”

  “So you’ve never had sex before?” I felt like I was across the table from an alien.

  “That’s my business. Just know if you, Manny, want to sleep with me, you’ll have to put a ring on it.”

  As I stared at Alivia, surprised, she wore an evil smirk on her face. Before I could reply, the waiter came to take our orders. She brought our juices shortly after.

  Our conversation continued, and even after we got our food, we kept talking. Alivia was interesting as hell, sexy, and I liked her, but I wasn’t sure if I was willing to put in all that work just to fuck with her. I was used to females who didn’t require much, like Jasmine, but Alivia had me feeling like I’d signed up for an AP Calculus class.

  “So I’ll text you then.” I sighed once we were outside of the cafe. “Maybe we can go to a movie.”

  “Okay. That’s fine. Matinee is cheap, so that’ll be good.”

  “Well I was thinking more of a night time date.”

  “I can’t.”

  “What, do you strip by night or something? Why can’t we ever chill after the sun has gone down?” I snickered, but she was stale faced.

  “Why does it matter? What’s the difference? You think if it’s later in the day, you’d have a better chance of fucking me?”

  “You right. I guess there is no difference now that I’m thinking about it.” I didn’t want her to know that she was right about the fucking portion.

  “Great. Thanks for the food, Manny. It was good.”

  “You’re welcome. I liked hanging out with you.”

  She smiled gently up at me and then stared off into the street for a little bit before backing away and waving. I waved back before exhaling.

  Belly

  “A tattoo, nigga?” Manny looked over at me with a surprised expression.

  We were at this location for Siggy’s video shoot. Nigga had been trying to rap for the longest, and now that he’d acquired a little bit of fame via being in my entourage, ContraBandz, that clout afforded him things he couldn’t get before. Producers were more willing to work with him, he was making money off social media in order to pay those producers, and of course, females were willing to be in his videos if needed.

  “It ain’t nothing too much,” I replied to Manny, drinking my water.

  I had to cut out liquor because I had a fight in a few months and was back training for hours on end per day. I enjoyed training, becoming stronger and shit, but hated that I couldn’t fuck with Hennessy, and couldn’t smoke as much if it all if I wanted to be in top notch shape.

  My goal was to become a lineal champion, and in order to do so, I needed to beat everybody’s ass for a lack of better words. And no weed or drank was worth me not achieving that shit.

  “Must have been her idea.”

  “Nah, it was mutual.”

  Blaise and I had decided to get each other’s initials on the inner wrist area. I said I would never do no shit like that, but for Blaise, I wanted to. I fucked with her so heavily that even if she tried to break up with me and I let her, I wouldn’t ever cover this shit.

  She was a different type of female, and even though it’d been a struggle for me to try and change for her, I’d progressed a whole muthafuckin’ lot, and I appreciated her for even making me wanna try that shit. I’d been one hundred in our fucking relationship ever since smashing Cadence though.

  “What was mutual?” The homie Rocko walked up. He’d been over there talking to Siggy, Cole, and Ozzy as they directed people where to set shit up at this spot.

  “Nigga, you know you can’t just walk up on muthafuckas with that funky ass breath,” I replied, causing Manny to burst into laughter.

  Every muthafucka that grew up with us in Inglewood near Roger’s Park, from Hyde all the way to Ivy knew Rocko had bad ass breath. I wasn’t sure what this nigga’s diet was, or if he was just rolling out the bed and getting on with his day, but that mouth was deadly as fuck. He had that breath that made you cop a fucking attitude as soon as the shit traveled up ya fucking nose.

  “Man, fuck y’all. I told y’all I got a condition.” He sucked his teeth and grabbed a beer from the ice chest on the floor.

  “Condition? You ain’t got shit. You just ain’t brushing yo’ whole mouth or something my nigga,” Manny commented as we both laughed. “You don’t even work, so why you be rushing in the morning?”

  Manny and I doubled over in laughter, so even Rocko had to chuckle.

  “The bitches don’t complain.” Rocko shrugged.

  “Well them hoes noses is broke, because I swear to God yo’ shit smells like straight up stripper ass and mildew.”

  “Nigga, I’m ’bout to die.” Manny clutched his stomach as he chortled hard as fuck right along with me.

  “Y’all niggas just some haters.” Rocko snickered, just as the ladies for the video arrived.

  I spotted Kharla, who I already knew was coming because Siggy asked if it was cool. I wasn’t tripping. This was how she made her money, so I wasn’t gon’ stop her cash flow just because I had a girl. Plus, Kharla was one of the best, and niggas loved using her for videos, especially if they thought they could fuck with her afterward. She never would though because of me.

  Rocko, Manny, and I continued chopping it up as the girls got ready, and the set workers finished putting everything together. Cole and Ozzy came to join us, allowing Siggy to do his first scene, which was solo. As we watched, I noticed Kharla and a few other females coming over, all dressed in little ass jean shorts and various tops.

  “Hi.” Kharla walked right up on me.

  “Sup.”

  She sat right near me, just as the other bitches found places to sit as well. I admit she looked good, but that was nothing new. Kharla had always been fine as fuck. She wasn’t Blaise though; none of these hoes were.

  “So I figure you’re still boo’d up. I thought you weren’t anymore, but then Blaise posted on her Instastory, wearing a Hood’s Champ t-shirt from your merchandise line.”

  “Well I don’t know why you thought we weren’t together.”

  “Because you were just with Cadence, Cortez, and she made it obvious.” Kharla sounded angry as hell, and when I looked over at her, I swear she was about to cry.

  “Nobody was with Cadence.”

  “She posted your hand on her thigh on her story a while back, and I know your hand tattoos. It was obvious she was in your lap. So are you only with Blaise, or are you spending your time elsewhere? I miss you, and I apologize for how I acted backstage at your last fight.”

&
nbsp; I was thanking God Blaise didn’t see that shit. If she did, I would’ve had no choice but to choke Cadence’s ass out.

  “Kharla, I really don’t give a fuck.” I glanced off, halfway listening to the loud ass conversation the homies and my brother were having with the other females, as Siggy’s song played.

  “So it’s all—” Kharla stopped talking when she peeped my wrist from me drinking from my water jug. I didn’t notice until I looked her way, then followed her eyes back to it. “Cortez, you can’t be serious about Blaise.”

  “Blaise?” One of the other hoes walked over to be closer to Kharla and me. “Oh, I did hear that y’all fuck around. I didn’t think it was on a serious thing though because of how she is.” She sat down by Kharla, and since the chair was turned, she was sort of facing me.

  “What the fuck you know about how she is?” I scowled.

  “Oh, me, her, and Nichole used to kick it a lot. A few other girls too. She always had a rich nigga. Hell, Five, Evan Davis, VIP, Merlin. We all had the same goal, but Blaise was racking in the ballers effortlessly and staying under the radar. She was goals!” The girl laughed, pissing me the fuck off. “Ah! What the fuck!” She screeched and hopped up from her chair.

  When I’d went down to fix my shoe, I saw Manny’s lighter on the ground, so I flamed that shit up by her toes since she had on some dusty ass Gucci sandals.

  “Keep talking that dumb shit about my girl and watch me burn through all the dead ass skin on them ostrich claws.” I tossed the lighter back onto the ground and sat back.

  Niggas were paying us attention now, so they began laughing at her. That bitch didn’t say shit else to me or about Blaise for the rest of the shoot. Kharla tried to stick by me as much as she could in between shots, but I paid her ass no mind. And as soon as the director said shit was a wrap, I dipped, skipping out on the party everybody was about to have with them hoes. I knew a few wanted me to stay, including Kharla, because as soon as I made it clear that I wasn’t staying, they dipped too.

  I’d texted Blaise on my way out, and since she said she was home, I headed straight to her crib.

  “Hi.” She answered the door, smiling.

  “Where’s my best friend?” I inquired after kissing her.

  Laughing, she replied, “Island is fast asleep, so it’s just us.”

  “I ain’t gotta worry about ya mama trying to suck on my balls then.” I came in, closing the door as she walked across the spacious living room to the couch. I went to sit next to her, eying the burning fireplace.

  “Leave my mother alone, Cortez. That’s rude.”

  “She act like that with every nigga you’ve dated?”

  “No. Well, she’s usually nice, but she was for sure flirting with you. I’m sure it was harmless though, because trust me, she’d much rather pimp me out than do anything with you.”

  “Pimp you out?” I pulled her feet into my lap, admiring her buttery brown thighs. “I thought you just supported her.”

  Blaise tousled her hair with her lips slightly parted, like she didn’t want to elaborate, but that wasn’t an option.

  “She just…” she shrugged, “wants me to live well. Anyway, she’s not here. She went back to the house Merlin bought her because she needs her space.” Blaise simpered at me.

  “You fucked with that NBA Player Evan Davis?”

  “A long time ago.” Again she shrugged, wearing a worried expression.

  “That rapper VIP?”

  “Cortez, why? It was a minute ago, a little after Five-Star. I… What, you don’t like me anymore now? Or you think I’m a gold digger?”

  I brought her over into my lap and kissed her supple cheek, then turned her face so I could hit her lips up a couple times.

  “I don’t give a fuck about none of that shit, to be honest. I just asked because I wanna know everything about you. I wasn’t questioning you for any other fucking reason. What I look like letting you go over another muthafucka?”

  The last thing I was worried about was what nigga had fucked or fucked with Blaise before me. She was mine now, and that shit was that. That hawk of a bitch mentioned it at the shoot, and since I’d never ran across that information before, I wanted to know.

  “Okay. You swear you don’t wanna break up?”

  We both smiled widely as fuck for a second.

  “Nah. You could’ve been a streetwalker on Figueroa and I wouldn’t wanna break up with you.”

  “Good; you better not.”

  She turned to straddle me, and my hands went right to her ass. I started pushing her tube top down as we kissed like maniacs, but she stopped me.

  “Tell me you not on yo’ fucking period. My dick is hard as shit right now.”

  “I’m not yet. But, baby, can you make me a sweet potato waffle. I tried, but it wasn’t like yours.”

  She changed her voice, making it all soft and shit as she kissed me, hands on the sides of my face.

  “Aight, man, move. Get the fuck off me.” She laughed heartily as she retreated from my lap. “Had me come over here to be yo’ fucking house slave. Want me to cook for you then dick you down. I’m brown skinned; that shit is for them light-skinned niggas.”

  Blaise continued chortling from her living room as I pulled what I needed from around her kitchen.

  “Thank you, baby.” She panted from laughing so fucking hard.

  “Fuck you.”

  Blaise

  Just two weeks later…

  “Baby, every time I ride with you and you listen to rap, I feel like we’re about to do a drive-by.” I glanced over at Belly’s fine ass, whipping his Range like it was a pinto, while rapping along to this artist named Skeme. He just turned to me, smiling, still singing along.

  Belly loved Skeme because he was from Inglewood like him. They were from rival Blood gangs, but Belly explained to me that it was cool. You could fuck with whomever you wanted to fuck with; his words, not mine.

  “You’re just paranoid as fuck, Blaise.” He made a left.

  “Every person you listen to is a gangbanger, but since you are too, I guess that’s who you like.”

  “Quit hating. And name a good ass rapper from LA that don’t bang? And not one of them foo-foo ass muthafuckas from Moreno Valley with no bars.” I didn’t reply because I couldn’t think of one. If a rapper came up out of Los Angeles, he was most likely a gangbanger. “Exactly. That shit is culture out here for niggas.”

  “Whatever. Just don’t be banging with me in the car.” I smiled.

  “Only thing I’m trying to bang on in the car is that pussy.”

  “Okay, Cortez.” I knocked his big hand off of my thigh as he chuckled. “Oh, right here, baby.” I pointed to Five-Star’s mother’s home. She was spending time with Island this weekend, but now I was back to pick her up.

  Five-Star’s mother was a good grandma, but she condoned her son’s behavior as long as he blew cash on her. She didn’t dare want to upset her rich ass son, so no matter what he did, she acted blind to it.

  “Damn, this shit is dope.” Belly ducked his head down some to peer out of the windshield at the house.

  “I know. All this house for one woman.” I unbuckled my seat belt. “Be right back.”

  Belly nodded and put the car in park, just before I climbed out. As I walked further up the driveway, I noticed one of Five-Star’s cars parked around the side, which alarmed me, because I didn’t know if his mom was home too.

  Karen, Five-Star’s mom, knew I didn’t like him being around Island alone, because he was too reckless. His other children were older than her, so they didn’t need as much watching, but she did.

  The last time I allowed him to have Island alone, I came to get her, and all of his friends were in the same room with my baby, smoking blunt after blunt. I threatened to only allow him to see her under supervision, but his mother convinced me not to and that she wouldn’t let him be alone with Island.

  I agreed because I didn’t feel like going back to court, and I already
felt kind of bad that he had to pay me so much child support monthly. He was making more money than when the judgment went through, so I knew they’d increase it if we went back in front of a judge at this point.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Karen answered the door, holding Island.

  I took her immediately, smelling her hair and body to be sure she didn’t reek of marijuana or anything. If she did, I was about to turn this bitch out.

  “Hi, Karen. I almost thought you’d left her here with him alone.” I followed her to retrieve Island’s bag.

  “Why she can’t be alone with me?” Five-Star appeared with two of his homeboys, and to my surprise, his baby mama Tahani. When he sat at the bar inside of the room we were in, she wedged herself between his legs so that her back was to his chest and gave me a smirk as if I was going to get jealous.

  “Jelani, I’m not in the mood. And I told you not to have her around Island,” I added. I was pissed as hell this bitch Tahani had been with my daughter.

  It was not like I’d chosen this rule to be a bitch. Tahani couldn’t stand me, and vice versa, so much so that she bad mouthed me on social media constantly. It was like she was obsessed with me. I never responded to her, ever, yet she continuously threw subliminal shots and everything. Plus, Karen had told me that she’d heard Tahani talking trash about me in front of my daughter, and that was a no for me.

  “You know he about to marry baby girl, so she gon’ always be around,” Five-Star’s homeboy commented.

  “Exactly. She been down for me.” Five-Star grinned.

  “No side chick pregnancy was gon’ interrupt what Jelani and I have.” Tahani leaned back some to lie her head on Five-Star’s chest.

  “Side chick? If you need to believe I was a side chick to make yourself feel better, then okay, Tahani.”

  “You were!” she barked. She was hot, dead giveaway that she knew what she was saying was some bullshit.

  “Your nigga buys million dollar condos for side chicks? He stops talking to you for six months straight over a side chick? He hits ignore on your calls for side chicks? Damn, you really have a winner.” I laughed extra loudly to piss her off, and it worked.