by Sa'id Salaam
“Say shawty.” Trigga said gently tapping her leg. The firm thigh was the first he’d touch since before going to jail and threatened to give him an erection. “We here.”
“Huh?” Cameisha frowned trying to make sense of what was going on. The ‘here’ that they were was the rental car return at the airport.
“And you can have whatever you want.” Trigga sang as he led her into the airport. He answered all her questions with either a laugh or another verse from the T.I. “I want yo body, need yo body, as long as you got me, you don’t…”
Past security on the train to the terminal and finally to the gate, he playfully ignored her pouts and protests. When they reached the gate, he pointed to flight 385 destination.
“Belize?” Cameisha read aloud. “Boy I ain’t got no clothes. My passport at home. I…”
“Here” He interrupted handing her his phone. “Call yo people and tell them to bring your passport. We shopping when we get down there.”
Cameisha used her own phone to call Jackie. Luckily today’s crazy world requires one to arrive at the airport hours early, so she had time to get her travel docs.
“Passport? Girl where you going?” Jackie demanded protectively. Cameisha may have ran the show but she was still her little sister.
“Somewhere to chill.” Meisha shot back. As she spoke she looked Trigga up and down trying to decide which position to fuck him in first. He was definitely about to get some ass.
Chapter 1 6
“Yo, you gots to be the dumbest nigga on the fucking planet. That’s saying a lot too cuz there’s some dumb asses out there, but you take the cake. Hands down, the most stupid muhfucka in the whole wide world! You! Congratulations you dumb muh fucka.” Sauvé berated complete with a mock standing ovation.
The fact that his little brother was in so much trouble only served as an ‘I told you so’ to help his cause. He added a sinister, humorless laugh as insult to injury.
“What, for trying to be a positive member of society?” Bilal whined. He came home to New York for help but all he was getting was hurt.
The two scantily clad white girls that Sauvé kept as pets moved their blond heads back and forth watching the verbal volley as if at a tennis match. The dim witted girls could pass for sisters by hair color, breast size and lack of morals but weren’t related. Their addiction to fast life and coke led them to Sauvé who treated them as human candy jars. They were treats for the master and his guests.
Sauvé had the same chocolate good looks as his younger brother but none of his humanity. The man was more monster than man and the heroine trade made him worse. The family got into the business when they came to America many years back. Momma had a couple of pounds of Afgans finest sewed into her body. When Papa got killed in a deal gone wrong, Sauvé took over and Bilal took off.
He ran away from home and dropped out of sight. He ended up in Atlanta in college. He assumed coming home as a doctor would make amends but it didn’t. Sauvé didn’t respect anything positive.
“Oh yeah! So how’d the whole positive member of society shit work for you? Huh?” Sauvé demanded. “Your dumb ass still ended up with a drug charge. Nigga I did ten mil last year and I ain’t even got a fuckin speeding ticket. Now who’s the positive member of society?”
“Whatever George. I…”
“Sauvé nigga!” He shouted, slamming his palm on the coffee table startling his blond bookends. The outburst was a glimpse of the mad man that he truly was. “Don’t you ever call me by no slave name nigga! My name is Sauvé cuz I’m a suave muh fucka! Ain’t I?”
“Yeah, you are daddy!” The girls nodded eagerly like hype men.
“Ok Sauvé. What is the lawyer saying?” Bilal asked fearfully. He had never been in trouble before so he turned to his criminal minded brother for help. That of course was a mistake. People who cannot be trusted should not be trusted.
“Oh he said you the dumbest muhfucka on the planet too! Lucky for you, you wasn’t in possession of nothing.”
“Will I, I mean, do I, um, I won’t have to go to prison will I?” Bilal asked clenching his butt cheeks together real tightly just in case. Practice.
“Yup!”Sauvé happily lied. The case was shit but he paid the lawyer extra to make sure he had to do a little time.
“I’m going to lose my license. I’m not going to be able to practice medicine anymore.” He moaned woefully.
“So, I’m not gonna be a doctor anymore, wah, wah, wah.” Sauvé mocked. “Good! Fuck that lame ass shit. We street dudes. Hood niggas, nigga.”
“Why must you always be so crass?” Bilal inquired in the civilized tone that drove his goon for a brother crazy.
“Crass? Crass! You Gray Poupon ass nigga. You know I slick think you gay. You gay lil bruh? You suck dick?” Sauvé demanded hotly and stood.
“Absolutely not!” Bilal shot back outraged. It was some good, young pussy that got him in all this mess in the first place. He had a nice woman his own age but she was boring. He wanted some excitement and he got it.
“Sure you are. That’s what’s wrong with you. Amber, Darla, suck his dick.” Sauvé said putting the white girls in motion instantly. Head on demand, how cool is that!
“No!” Bilal protested, knocking Amber’s hand away from his zipper.
“Yes!” Bilal screamed so ferociously it scared the shit out of every one present. Only crazy people scream like that.
Bilal was smart enough to be afraid of his brother. He was present when he killed his first man over what added up to nothing. Sauvé just wanted to bust his cherry so he killed a junkie for begging for a sack. Not to mention he learned enough in medical school to know that his brother was severely mentally ill. He was at least three kinds of crazy: Bi-polar, manic depressive with a dash of schizophrenia sprinkled on top like garnish.
Bilal could only offer defiant sigh as Amber removed his penis from his pants. It was soft when it entered her mouth but harder than Suduko when it reached her tonsils. She shared the blow job with Darla until the good doctor exploded. Darla made him blow but she shared it with Amber like a porno flick.
“Feel better nigga?” Sauvé asked happily. “See fuck some goldfish, niggas need to keep a couple of white girls around the house.”
“Yes, I feel better.” Bilal shot back dryly. He felt violated even though that was the best head of his life. A double header is what its called in baseball.
“Aight, so what’s up with this young bitch who got you in all this trouble?”
“Leave her out of this!" Bilal said protectively. Even hearing Cameisha referred to as bitch made him wince.
“Leave her out of this? You lose everything behind this hoe and you say leave her? What is it about this bitch?” Sauvé frowned painfully. He was a descendant of the fuck-a-hoe tribe and simply could not understand how or why men fell in love with women.
Bilal certainly couldn’t explain the twinkle in her eye when she smiled or the way she scrunches her face up when she comes or the fact that her vagina taste like strawberry-mango smoothie. Nah, he wouldn’t be able to relate. For Sauvé, all women were bitches and bitches ere only good for three things: Head, pussy or ass.
“Look at your dumb sucka for love ass smiling just thinking about the hoe. The dead hoe.” Sauvé spat.
“No! Leave her alone. Don’t you dare touch her.” Bilal demanded.
“Oh I ain’t gonna touch her. You are! As soon as you get out of prison…you gonna put a bullet in her head or I’ma put one in yours.” Sauvé yelled. “That’s right prison stupid. You going to prison and where is that bitch now? Where?”
Chapter 1 7
“What’s wrong with you?” Cameisha asked as Trigga suddenly went stiff. They had been playing the dozens, cracking on each other until the plane began to taxi to the runway.
“Nothing, I’m straight shawty.” He managed through chattering teeth. She assumed correctly that he had a case of flight fright. This was his first time on an airplane. First time out of th
e city of Atlanta except for prison.
“Well I ain’t straight, I’m scared to fly.” Cameisha lied. “Can you hold my hand please?”
“Scared to fly?” Trigga laughed as if the notion was absurd. “Come on shawty. I got you.”
The couple interlocked fingers like couples do. Cameisha laid her head on his shoulder and picked up where they left off. “Your head so big it got its own moon.”
“Oh yeah?” Trigga laughed. “Your neck so long male giraffes be like ‘who dat’?
They landed in South America a couple hours later and stepped into a different world. Everything and everyone was different than anything either of them ever experienced.
“What the heck is that?” Cameisha exclaimed at the sky blue mass out the window as they rode to the hotel.
“The ocean!” The taxi driver laughed. Most Americans had never seen water that color and asked that question. In New York, the water at the beach is a green-brown murky color.
“We gotta hit that water shawty.” Trigga said excitedly. The both snapped their heads in every direction seeing things not found in their world.
Taking the experienced travel agent at her word, Trigga reserved a room in a quaint local hotel instead of the large chain hotels. They could still walk over to the hotel’s disco and restaurants.
The room’s didn’t even have A/C but were cooled instead by a gentle breeze from the ocean. Sparsely furnished, it didn’t have a TV, just a bed, dresser and small desk. A large flat screen was mounted over the bar for those interested in watching TV. The large circular bed was draped by sheer mosquito netting that let air through but kept bugs out.
“Nice!” Both Cameisha and Trigga exclaimed when they walked in. They both looked at the lone bed and accepted what it meant. The chase was over.
“Thank you.” Meisha turned to him and said. She stepped closer so he could hug her if he wanted. He did. She leaned her face towards him so that he could kiss her if he wanted. He did
The kiss was soft and tentative but she felt him stiffen against her body hard and decisive. She pressed into the erection letting him know he could have her right here, right now but he didn’t. To her surprise he pulled away.
“We better hit some stores and get clothes and stuff.” He said with a voice thick from lust. Meisha frowned from confusion but followed him out of the room.
“Where to first?” A gold tooth dred asked eagerly. “Snorkeling? Parasailing? Weed? Whatever?”
“I’ma holla at you bout some weed when I get back and we finna do all that other stuff you said too.” Trigga replied.
“How much is weed down here?” Cameisha heard herself ask.
“One, two hundred a pound.” The dred said losing his Caribbean accent.
“Damn! Well what blow go for?” Trigga had to know.
“Bout ten bands a key here but if you want it delivered at your door in the states its 17.”
“Aight shawty.” Trigga said with a ‘yeah right’ twist of his lips. He couldn’t imagine the bell hop selling kilos. “We need a taxi to the stores.”
The first stop in the shopping district was a mini department store resembling a throwback Woolworths. There they shopped for underclothes and toiletries. Cameisha hated the cotton bloomers but didn’t have much of a choice.
The next stop was a little shop that carried all the fashions kids wore back home. It was odd seeing people dressed like rappers all the way down here. Trigga grabbed shorts off the rack while Meisha browsed.
“Oh my.” Cameisha said slyly to a skimpy little orange bathing suit. She snatched it up and rushed into the dressing stall. She quickly stripped and eased into the strips of fabric then stepped out and stopped time. “What choo think about this one?”
Trigga’s chin nearly hit the floor when his mouth dropped open at the sight of a nearly naked Cameisha. The spaghetti strap top had two orange triangles on her nipples. Another triangle was pulled tightly against her shaved vagina displaying a nice fat camel toe. She turned around and literally showed her ass. Besides the thin strap concealed in the crack of her ass, there was nothing but those sweet tan cheeks.
“Hell naw! My woman ain’t hardly ‘bout to be walking ‘round with her ass out!” Trigga shouted.
“Your woman!” Meisha shot back matching his tone then softened. “Ok baby.”
Cameisha skipped happily back into the dressing room. The sales girl was right behind her with a matching pair of shorts and sarong. She pulled the shorts and wrapped the cloth around her waist and came out for her man’s approval. His smile said all that needed saying.
The rest of the day was a blur in the frenzy of activities as soon as they put their bags down at the hotel they were whisked away to go diving and sightseeing, next was parasailing and jet skies. They snacked on mangoes and coconuts but by the time they made it back to the hotel they were exhausted and famished.
Trigga led Cameisha into the hotels small dining room. Both of them were red and stinging from the direct sunlight. The room was deserted except for a young couple with their son. They were about to take an empty table until the woman waved them over.
“Come and join us.” She said in a vintage New York accent. She was in her early twenties, pretty with curly brown hair and sun bronzed skin. She was also at least six months pregnant.
He was equally pretty in an uptown pretty thug type of way. The talkative little boy wore a collage of their faces on his. The menu for the night was shrimp quesadillas so that’s what they all ordered.
“Where you guys from?” The pretty lady asked with a slightly masculine tone underneath a girly one. His southern slang and her mixed accent made it hard for her to guess.
“ATL!” Trigga said proudly.
“The Bronx, University Ave.”Cameisha replied just as proudly. “What about yall?”
“Harlem.” They said in unison as their child rambled on without an audience, not that he needed one because once he learned to talk he never stopped.
“So what do you guys do?” The woman inquired. It was odd to see a couple so young in Central America. Kids their age usually went to local hotels to fuck.
“Dope boy.” Trigga replied between bites. “She go to school but she’s a dope girl.”
“Cool!” The man laughed at his candor. “We use to sell drugs. We rob banks now, a lot quicker and easier. Make sure you holla at rude boy, he might be able to help.”
“The dred who works here?” Trigga frowned curiously. He doubted the man really had prices he listed earlier, not working as a bell hop.
“Son don’t work here. He owns here.” The woman stated.
“Yeah he was a kingpin in New York until he got deported. He still plugged in like a wall socket though.” He added.
The couples dined and chatted until hungers were slacked and thirst quenched. He pulled a crisp c-not from a thick stack of c-notes that looked like they came straight out a bank vault because they did come straight out of a bank vault and laid it on the table. It was enough to pay bills, tip and room for the night.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get your names?” The woman asked as they stood to leave.
“Oh, I’m Cameisha but call me Meisha and this is Tavarious also know as Trigga.” Meisha smiled.
“Nice to meet you Meisha and Trigga. I’m Andrea but call me Dre and this is Ra.”
“Ra and Dre, nice to meet you guys too.” She replied.
Once Trigga and Cameisha got to the room they rushed into bed. They hugged once, kissed twice and fell soundly to sleep.
Chapter 1 8
Troy was left with strict instruction to personally handle all sales until Trigga returned. He put his brother J-bo on and they ruled the trap. Wasn’t shit else selling as long as they had that glass. It meant stepping on toes but eggs must be broken to make an omelet. Likewise, necks must be broken to crown a king.
“Say shawty, my brother said to sell me two ounces.” Keith demanded as he stormed into the trap.
“You talked to Tri
gga?” Troy asked twisting his lips. He knew it was a lie on several levels since Trigga was out of the country and he told him the exact opposite before he left. Not to sell Keith shit.
“Yeah, he was just at the house and said to see you.”
“Shawty, that nigga on another planet.” Troy said, mixing up planets and continents. Simple mistake for a dumb ass. Once again he gave up more information than needed. “He in Brazil with his lady.”
“Yall on some bullshit not letting nobody else eat!” He spat bitterly. Troy felt him though because they were all stuck with the mediocre coke and couldn’t sell it, not around there with the good dope. Once they flipped the two kilos at street level they could buy four and supply the traps. Even then they wouldn’t sell weight. You could either work their pack or not eat. Simple as that.
“Look shawty. I’ll front you one, just brang me back 600. That’s like fifteen 'hunned free money.” Troy explained.
He deliberately spelled out the free money part hoping it would be enough incentive for Keith not to fuck him. It wasn’t, he was a low life piece of shit to his core and unable to do right by anyone. Living proof that some people were created for the fire. They spent their whole time on earth striving for hell.
Troy even planned to make up the short from his own money. Sometimes you have to pay tribute to tyrants and he understood that. Besides, Shemika had been switching her fat ass around him all day. Word was he had it so he could have it.
Just like Shemika got the word that Trigga and Troy had that check, he heard the word about her. Word was she had that wet-wet and fiyah head for the low-low. A meal and some good weed granted access to the playground between her legs.
Luckily, both the burger joint and liquor store had drive through which allowed him to get her to a cheap hotel that much quicker. She was slightly saddened when he purchased regular sized condoms along with the liquor and beer. She preferred 40 ounce dicks just like her malt liquor.
