She Gave Her All to the Hood's Finest 5

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She Gave Her All to the Hood's Finest 5 Page 6

by Shvonne Latrice


  “I see. Just making sure you wasn’t stalking me or nothing. I ain’t want any problems with Mac.”

  Mac King was her producer, and he was also her nigga. He was a big ass messy dude who swore he was from the hood in Los Angeles, but none of the street niggas ever heard of him before he got famous. He stayed talking shit and pressing music industry niggas from behind a screen, that were from ‘his city’ except Tony Wacko and anybody signed to Make A Killing. I guess his ass knew better and knew Tony put the music shit second; he was a hood nigga first.

  “Yes, he’s wild.” She drank some of her pink drink and then lifted the carafe to offer me some, but I shook my head. “Okay, so I want something crazy for my video. You know I’m known for the weird shit. Well, for this song in particular, I want it to be like in a world of robots.” She polished her drink off as I pulled my notebook from my bag and began to write. “That’s so cute you use an actual pen and paper, not your phone or laptop.”

  “Yeah, this shit helps to have it on paper versus my phone. It’s a habit of mine, but it works.”

  “It does. Your videos are always on point. That’s why I told my manager to holler at you.”

  “Oh, having me do the video was yo’ idea? I thought it was the label.”

  “Nope, me. And I’m big time, so my label does whatever the fuck I say at this point.”

  “Oh, I believe you.”

  “So,” she got up, “in the video, I think we should get some kind of metallic paint or something because I want to be a robot but sexy, so I don’t want any kind of armor on or anything.”

  “Yeah, hell nah. Part of your career is how you look, so we definitely want to show off yo’ figure and shit. The whole theme of the video can be like pink and purple, including the robot suits, but everyone else will be certain colors, and you’ll be a totally different one so that you’ll stand out.” I spoke and began writing, but when I looked up, Roxie was smiling.

  “Yes, I love that.”

  “Aye, what you doing?” I picked my head back up from writing again to see Roxie stripping completely naked. She looked better without clothes for sure.

  “I’m about to swim in one of my pools. Damn, nigga. You ain’t ever seen a naked bitch before?”

  “I seen plenty, but they usually warn my ass before I look up seeing ass and titties.”

  “Yeah. I guess this does need a warning label.” She winked before turning away from me to walk to her pool. When I realized I was watching her every step like a hawk, I snapped myself out of it. “Where are you going?” She came up from under the water when she saw me pack my shit up and start walking to go back inside.

  “I have to be somewhere, and I pretty much have everything that I need to start making some calls. I will hit you with the time and locations so we can make sure everything is cool with your schedule before I book it.”

  “Okay, sounds good. Can’t wait.” She showed me her warm smile before swimming off.

  After this shoot, I was never talking to her ass again; way too much fucking temptation.

  I felt like my ass could breathe again when I got back in my car, so after a few moments of just thoughts running rampant, I pulled off, headed to Star’s spot.

  Speaking of Star, ever since her ass came through on her word and put me on child support, she’d been living lovely. She always made her own money selling them fitness programs and shit, but with my eighteen thousand dollar a month child support checks, plus her extra fame due to being my baby mama—which meant more programs sold—baby girl was living lavishly.

  I hated to think she was using that child support money for shit she wanted, but there was no way for me to prove that. And as crazy as Star had been, there was a time where we were in love and I fucked with her, so seeing her keep herself fly didn’t bother me as much as it would bother the next nigga in my situation.

  When I was about ten minutes away, I dialed her up through my car.

  “Hello?” A male voice answered, almost making me crash my whip because I had to double check what my car screen read.

  When I verified it had Star’s name, I asked, “Who the fuck is this?”

  “Oh, my bad; hold on.”

  Before I could stop him, I heard his ass walking briskly and then Star grab the phone.

  “Hey, Nehemiah.”

  “Who the fuck was that?” I hissed, almost rear ending the truck in front of me that kept braking unnecessarily.

  “What did you call me for?”

  “You know what the fuck I called you for. I always hit you when I’m close and about to pick up Timothy.”

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  “Star—”

  The phone beeped, letting me know her stupid ass hung up, so as soon as the traffic light turned green, I floored it. When I got to her new house, I noticed no cars were in the driveway. Assuming that nigga who answered her phone took her shit for a drive, I climbed out the car and made my way to the door. Star’s crib wasn’t no shit like what Roxie had, at all, but it was nice as hell for a normal person.

  I realized I’d been on her porch waiting, wallowing in my thoughts for a long ass time, so I rang the doorbell again. Again, too much time went by and no one answered the door, so I whipped my phone out to call her.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Star’s voice came through the speaker.

  “Star, where the fuck you at? I’m outside yo’ shit to get Timothy.”

  “Oh dang, my bad. Timothy and I are on the way to my friend’s house out in Calabasas.”

  “Why the fuck would you take my muthafuckin son any damn where when you know it’s my time to have his ass!”

  “I forgot! Don’t fucking yell at me!”

  “How the fuck you forget when I just talked to yo’ ass about ten minutes ago! And you was at home!” I was ready to choke her out, and I wasn’t the type of nigga who’d put his hands on a female.

  “Nope. I was gone already.”

  Her stupid ass was lying because I heard the nigga walk through her crib to hand her the phone.

  “So why you ain’t mention being gone when I just fucking called?”

  “I told you I forgot.”

  I could hear the wind blowing from her riding or driving in a car.

  Inhaling deeply, I chanted some calming words in my head so I wouldn’t talk to the mother of my son like she had a fucking tail.

  “Star, bring my fucking son back tonight, and I will come get him.”

  “No. Calabasas is too far, and traffic is a bitch. You can come get him in the…” She stopped to respond to that same nigga who’d answered her phone earlier. After giggling at him, she continued. “You can come get him tomorrow afternoon when I’m back.”

  “You got a nigga I’ve never met around my son?”

  “Stop being jealous and worry about the niggas creeping around that hoe you call a girlfriend.”

  “Star—”

  Click.

  I was gon’ have to take her crazy ass back to court. Only reason I didn’t want to was because my income had tripled since the last time, and I was afraid she’d get more money in child support.

  I never thought I’d say this, but I was low-key starting to hate Star’s ass.

  6

  Camarih

  I fastened the buckle on my sandal heels and then got up to put my watch on my wrist before grabbing my purse. I was about to meet Shanece at the mall to buy an outfit for an event that Make A Killing was having. I felt I had enough clothes and shoes, some stuff with the tags on it still, but Tony insisted that I go.

  He just enjoyed spoiling me, and I couldn’t say I hated it. It wasn’t an every single day thing, but a few times a month, he would splurge on me. Sometimes he’d go all out, like when he bought me a Rolls-Royce truck with orange interior. I didn’t drive that shit for a month, but now I couldn’t stay out of it. The way it drove alone was worth the price.

  Walking out of the bedroom, I texted Shanece to let her know that I was leaving, and before
I got to the den to get my baby, I could hear Tony talking to him.

  “See this? Now yo’ shit is clean again.” He held up our baby’s tiny Jordan shoe. “You can’t let these hoes and hating ass niggas see you with dirty ass kicks.” He slipped the sneaker onto him as I chuckled softly, not wanting him to hear me as I peeked around the corner. “Now you be good today, aight, cuz? I heard about you wilding in these streets.” He pecked his cheek. “You yelled at yo’ aunt Jilly, you pulled her hair, you hit Rubie’s big lipped ass in the ear, which I ain’t tripping too much off of, but her big ass is pregnant. Then you scratched Shanece’s gums. You can’t hit females that you cool with, cuz. Now them hoes that’s busted, over five feet eleven, and be popping hot shit like you won’t box they fucking head, by all means, slap her ass the fuck up—”

  “Okay, Houston!” I had to make myself known. “And he didn’t mean to do those things to Jilly and my friends. He just got excited.”

  Whenever my son got happy, he did things, and sometimes it resulted in him pulling your hair or hitting you. As long as you didn’t tickle him or do anything to make him laugh or get excited, you’d be fine. I mean, he was smiling and giggling when he did all that to them, so of course he meant no harm.

  “Nah, cuz just know when he being disrespected, so he acts accordingly.” Tony picked our baby up from the couch and kissed his face. “Aight, little nigga, have fun, and if you see any of them hoe ass niggas eyeing ya mama, throw up on her muthafuckin ass.”

  “Houston!” I laughed, taking my baby and straightening his little hoodie. I put him in his stroller that was already set up and waiting, thanks to his daddy, then I kissed Tony before I left.

  I got to Shanece about twenty minutes later, and she came right out once I arrived, so we were on our way to Rodeo Drive.

  “You’re gonna be nice today, Houston?” She looked into the back seat at my son. “He is so cute. Look at him, smiling like he’s sweet.”

  “He is sweet, Shanece.”

  We both laughed at my statement, but I was serious. I didn’t care what anybody said. My baby was a good little boy. He gave me no problems 90 percent of the time.

  When we got to Rodeo, we started at the top where Fendi and Louis Vuitton were, then made our way down the street, looking and shopping for stuff we liked. Our last stop was Chanel since we were on our way back and it was on the other side of the street. I found a purse there, two actually, but I refused to get them both. I just could not justify spending ten grand on two measly purses. I didn’t care how rich I was.

  “Mmm, he’s cute,” Shanece let me know as we waited for the sales associate to bring her the jacket she wanted to see.

  “Yeah, but he’s a little short for my liking.” I eyed the man who’d come up the stairs of the Chanel store.

  “Well, your man is abnormally tall, so yeah, I bet he is short to you. He gotta be like six feet even.” Shanece eyed him with her champagne in hand.

  “You’re acting like my man is six feet eight. He’s a couple inches shorter than that. Plus, aren’t you married?” I laughed.

  “I am. I wouldn’t trade my nigga for him. I’m just commenting on what I see.” She shrugged one shoulder before we giggled. “And a couple inches shorter than six feet eight is big as fuck, shawty.”

  “Whatever.” I waved her off with a half smile.

  Looking him over some more, she added, “I’ve seen him before.”

  “You have?”

  “Yeah, he’s famous for sure.” She squinted her eyes. “I wanna say he’s been up at Scene Magazine headquarters a couple times, but he wasn’t the artist.”

  “Hmm.” I watched the dark-skinned brother with fresh braids study a pair of heels. When he looked our way, we both awkwardly turned and couldn’t help but to laugh.

  “Ah Bah!” My son yelled angrily, and I realized his stroller was facing the other way.

  When he was awake, he liked to keep an eye on me. If he couldn’t see me, he would first get angry then cry if that didn’t locate me. If someone was holding him, unless it was his father, he stared at me while in their arms the entire time, until I got him back.

  “He is just like his damn daddy, always having to make sure he knows where you are.” Shanece laughed as I turned my baby’s stroller so he could see me. Like always, he locked his eyes right on me, trying not to doze off.

  “You are such a little tyrant.” I cooed, making him half smile, exposing his one dimple, the only thing he inherited from me.

  About ten minutes later, I felt a presence nearing us from behind, so I turned a little, expecting to see the sales associate, but it was old boy.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.” He smiled, drowning us with the scent of his heavy cologne.

  Just by looking at him, the way he carried himself and his clothing, I knew he had some money on him. He was flashier with the brands than my Tony, so I knew he had less money than Tony. You would never see my husband in a full-on Gucci outfit. He always said that was broke nigga shit. He’d have a few pieces on but never the whole shebang.

  “Afternoon,” Shanece and I spoke in unison.

  “Y’all doing some shopping I see.” The man licked his lips.

  “Yes, a little.” Shanece nodded, sipping her drink.

  “Shopping for clothes and niggas too, huh?” He kept his eyes on me, flashing his smile that was covered with diamonds.

  “No, absolutely not. Just for clothes and whatever other material items we like.” I made sure to clarify.

  “I see.” He eyed me for longer than I wanted. “This your baby, huh?”

  “Maybe.”

  He laughed.

  “I already know who your nigga is just by looking at him. He don’t look nothing like you; all Wacko.”

  “Okay, I apologize for the wait, Mrs. Bias. We had a hard time locating the jacket.” The sales associate returned to assist Shanece.

  “Well, umm…” I raised a brow.

  “Mac.” The guy stuck his hand out for me to shake.

  “It was nice meeting you.”

  “Damn, you want me to leave?”

  “I mean, you can stay here if you want to, it doesn’t matter to me.” I got up since the associate was ready to ring us up. Mac looked me over lustfully from head to toe. He then shook his head in disbelief, running his tongue over his lips.

  “I just want you to know that if you ever feel like that nigga ain’t appreciative, you can hit me up.”

  “Nigga, please. It’s not that easy. You know whose girl I am, and you thought you could spit that weak shit to me, and my knees would knock?” I laughed, and Shanece joined me as I handed my card to the associate to go process. “You don’t have enough money, game, swag, or height for me to even let you see the color of my panties. Also, my man would kill you if he knew you were simply breathing my same air right now.”

  “He really would,” Shanece added.

  “My bad.” He smirked, throwing his hands up and walking off slowly but making sure to get another full look at me.

  “Damn, girl. Why you have to talk to him like that? Had his corny ass smiling to save face.”

  Shanece and I guffawed together at her statement because of how true it was.

  “My watch was bigger than his. Come on now.”

  Again, we laughed loudly together.

  A little while later, the associate came out with our bags. I noticed she had two for me when I’d only gotten one purse. If her ass charged me for both the purses I liked, at five grand apiece, she and I were about to have it out.

  “Cora, I only got one bag,” I let her know in a sweet tone.

  “Yes, I know, honey.” She looked around for a moment and then pointed to Mac before saying, “He got you the other one.” The look in her eyes let me know that she was impressed by my ‘game’.

  “Oh, well no, I don’t want it.”

  “Why not? It’s a free bag, girlfriend, and one of our most expensive!”

  “I only take gifts from my man. An
d I cannot walk in the house with a free bag.”

  Tony wasn’t one of those rich niggas who just let his woman buy whatever with his money without checking things. He didn’t care what I bought myself, but he was surely going to ask to see the receipt for his records and check his statement. He budgeted everything and wanted to know where every single cent of his was going. So if he saw a purse but no receipt, we’d have an issue. Plus, I didn’t want shit from that nigga Mac.

  “Oh, but he paid for it already.” Cora appeared to be afraid, and when I looked around, I saw Mac had left.

  I took the shopping bag, and as and we walked out of the store, I saw him on the phone, smoking.

  “Here.” I reached it out to him.

  “You sure you wanna do that? I know you wanted both.”

  “No. I wanted the one I got. Take this.”

  “Nah. I wanna go to sleep tonight knowing you got something I bought you.”

  “Oop!” Shanece’s messy ass commented.

  Smiling up at him, I walked right to the nearby trashcan and slammed the fresh Chanel shopping bag into it, causing everyone who was in eyeshot jaws to drop. Without another word, I pushed my baby’s stroller and walked off with Shanece, leaving his whack ass stunned.

  “Girl, maybe he wants to die,” Shanece said. “Are you gonna tell Wacko?”

  “No!”

  “Why, Camarih? You remember how he reacted about the check from Stallion.”

  “Yes, and where is Stallion now because of it?” I bucked my eyes as we got closer to the place we planned to have lunch at.

  “True. What if he finds out?”

  “He won’t. I threw the gift away, and I doubt I will see homeboy again.”

  “Are you sure? I told you I’ve seen him somewhere, and I’m sure he’s in the music business.”

  “Well if I do see him again, I’m sure I will be with Houston, and I doubt he will try anything with him on my arm.”

  “He for sure won’t.” Shanece shook her head as we followed the chipper white girl to our table. “But what if you’re not with Houston?”

 

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