She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest 4

by Shvonne Latrice

  “Nah, I don’t mean no harm, I jus—” Prince backed down.

  “Be happy all I did was compliment yo’ bitch instead of taking her ass around back and bending her over like I want to.”

  Excuse me? And I couldn’t believe Prince was cowering. Then again, Tony was a bit intimidating and unbelievably brash.

  “My bad. Thank you.” Prince covered his chest with his hand to show his sincerity.

  “Bitch ass nigga coming to my city and running his mouth. Hurry the fuck up and move so I can order my shit, nigga.” Tony hissed as his friends in the establishment laughed at Prince’s expense. His little girlfriend giggled too. I guess she was over his wandering eyes.

  I paid for my food and quickly wanted to get out of Tony’s way. Prince had left my ass in here. I was embarrassed for him though, so I couldn’t blame him for dipping.

  “Excuse me.” I spoke lowly, about to slip around Tony.

  He blocked me slightly and touched my curly hair. It took forever for me to look up into his sexy face.

  “This shit naturally gold?”

  “Mhm, yes.” I nodded nervously.

  He said nothing and instead turned his attention to the Asian man to begin ordering. I felt eyes on me, and when I looked back, it was his woman. Just that quickly, she hated me.

  “Come on, shit!” Prince rushed me as soon as I opened the passenger side door.

  “You left me inside! And you let him talk to me rudely!” I was floored by his behavior a minute ago. Even though I was a little turned on by who I now knew as Tony, I still didn’t like his bluntness. Prince should’ve spoke up.

  “What the fuck did you want me to do, Camarih? Fight him? Let him shoot my ass? I got a fucking career to think about. I can’t be out here squabbling and getting lit the fuck up.” He sped out of the lot and onto King Boulevard. “Shouldn’t be wearing them little ass shorts anyway. I don’t even like confrontation.”

  “Yeah, tell your fans that.” I mumbled.

  “Bitch!” Prince yelled out, and next thing I knew, I was being smacked across the face. “Baby, my bad. That was a bad reflex.” He kept glancing at me periodically as he drove toward my mama’s home.

  I was on mute. Usually, I would have hit him back, but I was drained. I just wanted to eat my food and lie down—nothing more.

  As soon as he swooped over in front of my mom’s place, I pulled the lever to get out of the car, but Prince grabbed my arm.

  “Let me go, Phillip.”

  “Baby, you forgive me?”

  “Let. Me. Go. Take your car home to Beverly Hills where people won’t break into it.”

  Yanking away, I got out of the car fully to head toward my mama’s door. I was exiting one hell and going right into another.

  Later that evening…

  I was lying down in my bed, with my bedroom door locked, doing research like always. I was really into skincare, and when I could afford to, I would order ingredients off of Amazon to whip up different products. If I had it my way, I would have started a skincare line by now, but unfortunately, I didn’t have the money or the connections. I knew people thought I was living the life being connected to Prince, but his upgrades in life didn’t roll over onto me.

  Yes, he bought me a few bags, and a funky pair of shoes, but that type of shit meant nothing to me. I wanted to get my own money to buy myself those things. From him, I needed love and support. I shook my head because I knew that would never happen.

  As soon as I sat up, feeling my stomach grumble, my phone began to ring. I saw it was my best friend, Isis, so I quickly scooped it up to answer.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I prayed she wanted to get out of the house so I wouldn’t have to be cooped up here.

  “Nothing. What you doing? Hopefully not with that trash ass nigga you call your boyfriend.”

  Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Isis, don’t start. I had a bad enough day as it is.”

  “Spill. I’m sure it had something to do with Peasant.”

  “His name is Prince.” I grinned, shaking my head at her rude ass.

  “Actually, it’s Phillip, but whatever.”

  “We got into an argument after I left the doctor because he let some super hood ass nigga push up on me.”

  I left out the part about him slapping me because I knew Isis would be pulling out her combat boots and Vaseline, ready to fuck Prince up.

  “Was he fine?”

  “Isis!”

  “What, bitch! I’m just trying to see something.”

  We chuckled in unison.

  “He was.” I thought back to Tony. “Caramel, nicely built, tall, covered in tattoos, sexy haircut, and smelled like he had some dick that would make me direct deposit my check into his account.”

  We both burst into laughter.

  “Got damn! You should’ve paid him to fuck you right in front of Prince.”

  “He was fine enough for a bitch to pay some coins for the dick.”

  “Girl, you got my pussy perking up.”

  “TMI, Isis. His name was Tony, and he called this his city, so I guess he’s well known to some. People were breaking their necks to greet him yet ignored Prince when we walked in.”

  “Tony? I knew that description sounded familiar. Tony Wacko from Leimert Park. He’s sexy as a bitch, but he a little off and disrespectful.”

  “I’ve gathered that. He expressed both of those traits in Hong Kong, and I’m sure the Wacko last name wasn’t given just for fun.”

  I wanted to know more, but I didn’t want Isis to think I was interested, even though I was. A man had never been on my mind after one encounter, not even the love of my life, Driz. I think it was just a lust thing with Tony, however.

  “Yeah, he—”

  “Hang up, bitch!” A male voice barked on the other side of the phone. It sounded like Isis’s boyfriend, Jeoff, but he never spoke to her that way, so I was in shock at the moment. This had to be a nigga that sounded like him, because it couldn’t be the Jeoff that worshipped her.

  “Jeoff, hold on—”

  “I said get off!” He roared before the line went dead.

  “Oh hell no!” I hopped off of my bed and slipped my feet into my all white Reeboks with the gum bottom that I always wore, especially when I knew I was about to be fighting.

  I grabbed my purse after pulling a hoodie on and began tying my hair up as I darted from my bedroom and through the living room.

  “Where you going?” my mama asked, swaying her body to “Living for the Love of You” by The Isley Brothers. Her girlfriend, Bobi, was holding her from behind, kissing on her neck.

  “Out,” was all I said, and because she didn’t really give a fuck, she didn’t reply as I slammed the door behind me.

  I hurried to my 2003 Toyota Avalon that I bought myself after a year of crucial saving, and then sped off to Isis’s place. Isis lived in Watts near where my father stayed.

  I made it there in about twenty minutes and got excited when I saw Jeoff’s vehicle still there. This place belonged to Isis’s parents, but her mother was in hospice, and her father died when we were in 9th grade, so it was pretty much hers.

  I could hear her and Jeoff arguing as I rushed up the walkway, so I quickly began beating on the door. Remembering Isis gave me a spare key for emergencies, I used it, entering the house and ready to turn the fuck up on Jeoff. Throwing my purse down onto the couch, I charged his loud disrespectful ass.

  “No, no, Camarih.” Isis blocked me.

  “Yeah. Get yo’ fucking friend and tell her to leave!” Jeoff hissed.

  “Nigga, fuck you!” I shouted back, wanting to cave his face in. And I knew I could.

  I’d fucked Prince up on multiple occasions, and he was bigger than Jeoff. Only reason I stopped fighting Prince was because I would always feel bad for his ass when he’d be begging me to stop fucking his big ass up. I was only five feet four, and he was six feet, but he was no match for me when angered. That was one of the reasons I was forced to attend conti
nuation school, because I’d gotten kicked out due to beating too many bitches down, despite the fact that they were always starting with me.

  “Yeah, fuck me, and then maybe y’all two can be even.” Jeoff laughed.

  “What?” I frowned, genuinely confused.

  “Jeoff, stop.” Isis gave him a look before turning back to me. “Bestie, just go so he and I can sort this out.” She pleaded. She had her red hair in two French braids, and her pale skin was red as a cherry right now.

  “No. I’m not fucking leaving you here.”

  I didn’t know why Isis was so worried right now. She was such a firecracker and always had been. That was why we’d gotten along so well since day one. It was nothing for us to fuck some bitches up together, on any given day.

  “Yeah, hurry up and leave, Camarih, before you get ya feelings hurt. I’m sure you don’t wanna hear how ya bestie has been fucking ya man and is pregnant by him. Oh shit, my bad.” Jeoff covered his mouth.

  Shock had again taken over me for the second time tonight as I slowly turned to make eye contact with Isis. She was shaking her head slightly, but the tears in her eyes told me Jeoff’s ignorant ass wasn’t lying.

  “Camarih, listen. It’s more to it than you think, and I—”

  WHAM!

  It seemed my fist had a mind of its own as it rammed itself into Isis’s face. Blood trickled from her nose, so I gave her another before she swung back. We began fighting hard, and next thing I knew, I had her bent backwards over the couch as I pounded her face in. I couldn’t believe what the fuck she had done to me.

  She supposedly hated Prince, yet not only was she sexing him, but she was having his child? I was disgusted, hurt, and beyond infuriated.

  “Aight!” Jeoff yanked me off of Isis, who just laid there breathing profusely and crying like a newborn in the delivery room.

  WHAM!

  As soon as Jeoff put me down, I gave his ass a broken nose as well.

  “Bitch, I better not ever see you out, or I’m gon’ fuck you up every time.” I sniffled, wiping my tears with my sleeve.

  “Get out, you crazy bi—ah!” Jeoff bent over to cup his balls after I kneed his ass in them.

  Snatching the door open, I ran outside, letting the cold night air of Los Angeles hit me. Getting into my car, I dropped my face into my hands and just sobbed uncontrollably.

  Why did it seem like the only person who cared about and loved me was dead? I knew the day that bullet pierced Driz’s skull was the end of my happiness and the beginning of my eternal misery.

  Houston “Tony Wacko” Terranova

  That same night…

  “You know I like you best when my dick is down ya throat.” I gripped this hoe Joy’s hair tightly in my hand as she bobbed up and down on my dick, while I dipped through my city using my other.

  She sped up, giving my balls the best fucking massage as I pulled up to a red light, letting a load off in her fucking mouth. As usual, Joy swallowed that shit with a smile, before sitting her sexy ass up and adjusting herself in my passenger seat.

  “Nice to see you’re satisfied.” She giggled, fixing her shit in the visor mirror. “Maybe now I won’t have to worry about you complimenting other girls in my presence like earlier.” She closed the mirror.

  “If I see a fine bitch, I’m gon’ tell her. I don’t give a fuck who around—you, her nigga, or her muthafuckin daddy. None of y’all gon’ say shit.”

  I licked my lips thinking about that cute bitch from the Chinese food place. Her body was thick, her light skin had a supple glow to it, and even her curly hair was shiny as fuck, smelling like fucking strawberries or some shit. I ain’t really know. A nigga didn’t eat fruit like that.

  Her face only made shit better, but her body was sexy enough for her to be ugly as fuck. Bitch was definitely a 20/10.

  “See, that’s what I’m talking about, Tony! When—”

  “Quit all that fucking yelling!” I barked back at Joy, irritated as fuck, mainly because she’d interrupted my thoughts of that golden-haired hoe. I had never in my life seen her ass before, and if I ran up on her again, I was for sure fucking.

  Calming down, Joy exhaled. “She wasn’t even all that cute, and she looked broke as fuck.”

  “Wearing nothing expensive nor out there and still look better than a lot of you hoes,” I retorted because it was true.

  Joy and I had the same fucking conversations every time I saw her ass. I wasn’t her nigga, and I was never gon’ be her nigga. The thought of being with only her ass, and marriage, plus all that other bullshit niggas was into, made my muthafuckin skin crawl.

  I liked to fuck on these hoes when I wanted to and then for them to go on about their fucking way. I loved women way too much to be tied down, especially to a nagging ass female like Joy. If pigs flew one day, making me decide to settle down, it’d at least have to be a bitch I could get along with when my dick wasn’t in her mouth.

  “I just don’t get what I’m doing wrong, Tony.” Joy sobbed. “We’ve been fucking around for four years and—” She was cut off when I turned my music up to drown her crybaby ass out. I didn’t need the same damn speech she loved to give. I guess she figured if she said it enough times, a nigga would switch up.

  I wasn’t in the mood for the bullshit. I’d told her stupid ass plenty of times that she could stop fucking with me, and sometimes she would, for maybe forty-eight hours. Then her ass would be right back blowing me up, trying to see me.

  Joy was beautiful, and the pussy was good, so you damn right when I wanted to fuck her, I did. I had no hard feelings toward her, so it wasn’t like a nigga was ever upset about her choosing to not fuck with me for two days.

  Females were never my fucking priority. I liked pussy, and as long as it was available when I needed it to be, I was satisfied. All the extra shit was for the birds, including putting a claim on the shit. About 90 percent of the hoes I smashed were always hollering how their pussy belonged to me, but I didn’t want the rights to that shit at all. All bitches were nothing but something for me to bust a nut with, and I didn’t give a fuck about none of their asses enough to care what nigga hit next; and that included Joy.

  Pulling up to my apartment building, I cut the car off and said, “Aye, when I come back down, I’ll drop yo’ ass off at home.”

  “Home?” Joy wiped her eyes. “Why? Where are you going?”

  “To kick it.” I hopped out the car, and so did she.

  “I wanna come kick it too.” Joy followed me. She stayed trying to be attached to my hip all day, thinking that would keep me from doing whatever the fuck I needed to do. Shit killed me. No matter how long she’d known me, she always felt like her antics would work.

  “You wanna kick it and you still got my dick on ya breath? At least go home and brush ya fucking teeth.”

  “I have a brush here.” She followed me into my spot, and I closed the door behind her. If Joy wanted to witness what may happen tonight, then that was on her ass.

  I showered since I didn’t believe in walking around with saliva on my dick, and then I got dressed while Joy cleaned her teeth with the brush her sneaky ass had left over here.

  After I made her leave to go sit in the car and wait for me, I checked my stash to be sure my money was right. I did this every morning and every night, despite the fact that I lived alone. I was a paranoid nigga when it came to my bread, because that shit was for a purpose and not for me to just floss on niggas and females like most of the muthafuckas from ’round here.

  At the moment, I sold drugs, but not to these normal cokeheads around Leimert Park, but to muthafuckas in the industry. The money was better, and I was less likely to be caught up by one time. Ever since I could remember, I’d always been struggling with money, because despite both of my parents having jobs, we lived check to check. So although a nigga wanted to make his money the legit way, I became a victim of the shit I grew up around.

  In Leimert Park, you only made money one way—slanging dope—and I
refused to be around this muthafucka broke as a bitch. So when the opportunity to leave the block and sell that shit to these uppity ass celebs presented itself, I took it. I made a nice amount of fucking money, but I only spent what I needed and saved the rest, which was why I still lived in the hood I grew up in. I loved it over here though because it was home.

  Right now a nigga had about $280,000 saved and I planned to use that shit to buy a bunch of studio equipment and get some shit popping. One day I would be one of them rich ass record executives, but the only way to get there was to stay focused on the muthafuckin topic at hand, so I didn’t have time for no relationships with these busted open ass females. Either you was getting fucked and nothing else, or you was gon’ move the fuck around.

  “Get off me,” I told Joy as soon as I slid into the driver’s side of my whip.

  Pouting, she folded her arms as I sped out toward one of the smoke shops the homies and I usually kicked it in front of. The niggas I fucked with were all solid. I didn’t allow muthafuckas with questionable street code morals and stunted mentalities to hang around me, because that shit would fuck with you. A nigga like me needed to stay motivated at all fucking times.

  “What’s good, Wacko?” My homeboy Eitan slapped hands with me before I did the same with the other homies Cornell and Abel.

  Eitan and I grew up together, and like me, he had his eyes on the prize and didn’t just wanna get swallowed up in the bullshit like niggas were expected to. He was a fire ass rapper, and part of my plan was to make him blow up. We’d gotten some local celebrity for his ass, but as you know, that wasn’t enough.

  The homies and I started rolling up, just as Rahim appeared. I met him on a Vegas trip one night at the club, and after we got to chopping it up, he decided he wanted to move here, be Eitan’s producer. No matter where I was, I was always making needed connections.

  After all the greetings and shit were over, we started smoking as Joy stood there, hugging herself due to the cold air.

  “Babe, can I get your jacket?” She looked to me, trying to seem all sad. Joy was a pretty ass bitch, but like I said, that wasn’t enough.