Ruthless and Rotten

by Ms. Michel Moore

  “What are you doing sitting out here?” Kenya’s facial expression changed when she got a good look at her twin sister. “And why the hell do you have on my fucking clothes? Storm bought me that damn outfit! Go take it the fuck off!”

  As Kenya waited for her answer, London grew angry at the fact that everything always had to be about Kenya. She twisted her upper lip and grinned. “You always think that you and your girl Paris are so high and mighty, don’t you?”

  “What that got to do with why you wearing my damn stuff?” Kenya fumed at her twin, trying to change the subject. “Tell me that!”

  “Whatever!” London ignored her sister, while trying to wrap her head around what had just happened between her and not one brother, but two siblings.

  “Well, I’m waiting.” Kenya tapped her foot as if she was a scolding parent or teacher. “Why do you have my shit on your back and my new shoes on your feet? Are you gonna answer me or what?”

  London stood up, rubbing her sore wrist that was starting to bruise and let her twin have it full blast. “I’ll tell you what, Kenya. I’ve got a bright idea for you. Why don’t you get your uppity, stuck-up, trying-to-forget-where-you-came-from-ass inside the house and try answering some questions your damn self?”

  “What are you talking about?” Kenya was puzzled by her sister’s statement. “What do you mean? Stop talking in secret, cryptic code all the time and try being normal for once.”

  “What I mean is that you should stop worrying so much about your damn precious little clothes that I borrowed and go in there.” London pointed over her shoulder back toward the door. “Your foolish-ass boyfriend, Storm, is wide awake and seems to be somewhat in his right mind. And if I’m not mistaken, something tells me he wants to see you. Now, how’s that for being normal!”

  “Oh, my God! Move outta my way!” Kenya ran past London and up to her and Storm’s bedroom. She could hear him screaming out her name louder with each step she took. It was now time for Kenya to face him, explain her ridiculous, unnecessary lies, and try her best to make shit right again.

  15

  You Dirty Bitch

  Kenya neared the door of the bedroom, almost coming to a complete stop. She leaned against the wall, taking several deep breaths. Her pulse was racing and a sudden feeling of jitters caused her to tear up. Trying to get herself together, Kenya’s ears were filled with the echoing of Storm’s enraged yells.

  “Kenya! Kenya!” he ranted and raved. “Where the fuck are you at? Don’t let me get out of this motherfucking bed! I’m not playing around with your no-good ass!”

  She was frozen with denial. Kenya had never once, since meeting Storm, heard him even raise his voice at her. Now he was lying a few feet away, injured and laid up in the bed, sounding like he was ready to break his foot off into her ass.

  Damn! I can’t put this shit off any longer. It ain’t gonna do nothing but make matters worse. After one more deep breath Kenya turned the corner going in.

  “Oh, I see your stankin’-ass finally decided to come back, huh?” Storm’s hands were clenched onto the thin blanket that was on the bed. “I know you heard me calling you!” Kenya was quiet, not believing the bitter and callous words that were flying out of Storm’s mouth. She couldn’t move out the doorway as he continued to go off. “If my leg wasn’t fucked up it would be me and you, ho, and mostly me! Believe that!” Storm struggled to get up without success, finally resting his weak body back on the mattress. “Bring your no-good, dick-sucking ass over here!” he demanded, firmly fighting through the excruciating pain he was in. Kenya remained still as tears of pain flowed down her cheeks. Silent, she had no response to him and his insults. She felt guilty enough for what he was going through. In reality, Kenya had no true, solid defense, because if she’d only been honest from the jump maybe some—if not all—the crap that her man had to suffer and endure could’ve been avoided totally. “I said come here, bitch! I swear to God I ain’t gonna ask you no more, Kenya—bring your ass!”

  “Wait, listen, Storm,” she finally got the courage to say. “Please, baby, I can explain everything if you just give me a chance to.”

  “We been together for months on top of months. You had all the time in the world to confess your double, rotten-ass life and now you wanna be calm and talk.”

  “But—” Kenya tried once more to speak.

  “But what, bitch? What the fuck can you say?”

  “Please, Storm!”

  “Please Storm, what?” he lividly hissed as he pounded his closed fist into the mattress. “Please don’t be mad that I’m a backstabbing little whore? Is that what you wanna say after all this time—is it?”

  Once again Kenya grew speechless. Terrified by his behavior, she still hadn’t got within reach of Storm’s bedside in fear of what he might actually do. Staring down at the carpet as she cried, she saw one of her earrings on the floor. Noticing it was the mate to the one that London was wearing; Kenya made a mental note to check her sister later on, knowing damn well that this wasn’t the time.

  “I guess you playing the dum-dum role now. Well, I’ll tell you what, Kenya, consider all the fake games as over.” Storm swallowed slowly, trying to regain his self-control. “You ain’t gotta say shit, after all, the writing is already on the wall. Just know that because of you and your scheming I damn near got killed. Look what they did to me because of your wannabe-police ass!”

  “Wait, Storm, are you going to give me at least a chance to try to make you see my side in all of this?” Kenya held up her hand, trying to reason with him. “Please, Storm. I’m begging you. Just listen.”

  “What you gonna tell me, huh?” He managed to laugh as Kenya gathered up the nerve to get a little closer to the man who she loved with all of her heart. “You gonna tell me that you ain’t know nothing about that P.A.I.D. bullshit, right? You gonna tell me that you ain’t trying to undermine my entire operation and shut shit down, right? Is that what you about to say Kenya—is it?”

  Storm found some inner strength and reached out, yanking Kenya onto the bed with him. She didn’t try to resist, feeling like if he kicked her ass and got it out of his system, maybe then he’d give her a chance to explain. Kenya was willing to make any sacrifice that it took to get things back to normal, even if it meant getting beat the fuck down in her own bed without putting up a fight. Storm tossed her around the king-sized bed with rage and fury as he kept the questions and harsh accusations coming.

  “What’s wrong, Kenya? I don’t hear you telling me any more of those lies about you loving me so much!” he shouted as spit flew in her face. Yet Kenya didn’t once scream or try to get away from the assault. “I guess you played me from the jump, huh?” Storm ripped Kenya’s shirt off of her back, exposing her red-laced bra. The sight of her plump breasts usually excited him, but this time was much different. After seeing O.T.’s hands rubbing and feeling on them earlier as she sucked his dick, Storm wanted to throw up. Pissed at the sheer thought, he then smacked Kenya across her jaw with all his force. Not able to withstand the blow, she flew out the bed and hit the floor, dazed and dizzy. “Yeah, I guess you ain’t London Roberts, either, with your good snitching rat ass?” Storm was enraged and out of control, as he threw the lamp off the nightstand at Kenya’s head, “And I guess you wasn’t just down on the floor swallowing my little brothers’ dick damn near whole in front of my face neither, huh?”

  Out of nowhere, the bedroom door flung open, causing both Kenya and Storm to turn and wait for the shit to hit the fan. The next round was sure to be worse than the first.

  “Is that you, O.T.?” Storm asked as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Is it?”

  Kenya planned on breaking the news about her twin sister, but the hell with it. She was now here to do it herself.

  “No, it’s not your henpecked little brother! It’s me, London Roberts. The same London Roberts who was sucking his dick! Is that okay with you?” London stood with her hands on her hips, angrier than Kenya had ever seen her
before in her life. “And if you touch my sister like that again I’m going to kill you with my bare hands!”

  Storm’s eyes seemed to be jumping out of their sockets. He rubbed them both, thinking that he must be hallucinating from the strong dosage of medication that they were keeping him doped up on. “I don’t understand. What the fuck is going on?” He placed his palm on his forehead to check for a fever. “Kenya, who is she? I mean, which one of you is Kenya? I’m confused. What’s going on? What are y’all trying to do to me? What is this?”

  Storm started to hyperventilate from the shock and stress. He now was physically exhausted from struggling with Kenya. His body was still weak from his injuries and couldn’t take the turmoil that was taking place. Without warning, he passed out cold.

  It was a couple of hours later when Storm finally regained consciousness. O.T. was now sitting on the edge of the bed and laughing as his brother thankfully woke up once again.

  “Open up your eyes, faggot-ass sleeping beauty. I ain’t got all day to be waiting around to kick your pretty candy-sweet ass in the new Madden!” He teased as he normally did.

  Storm was still slightly weak, but managed to sit up and get off into O.T.’s ass. “Later for all that. Man, where the fuck is Kenya at? I had one of the craziest dreams in the world, or should I say fucking nightmares. It was two of them bitches!”

  “Hold up, dude, that wasn’t no dream. It is.” O.T. got his brother a cold glass of water to drink while he explained. “Your woman got an identical twin sister. Her name is London and trust me, you can’t hardly tell them the fuck apart! Apparently, the girl been living back in Detroit all this time.” O.T. shrugged his shoulders and rubbed his head. “Why didn’t she tell you about her? I mean, that’s wild. Kenya is straight out of order!”

  “Fuck all that bull! Where is she at?” Storm asked loudly. “I don’t believe all that twin stuff! Where the hell is she?”

  “Who, London?”

  “Hell naw, Kenya!” Storm frowned. “Matter of fact, yeah, go get both of them.” He still didn’t think that it could be possible that Kenya had a sister, let alone a twin sister. “Show me both of them side by side, then I’ll believe that bullshit! Until then—”

  “Yeah, all right then.” O.T. left out the room and walked downstairs to inform the girls that Storm was awake. “Hey Kenya, he’s up, but ol’ boy don’t think that it’s two of y’all. He thinks that he was just bugging out on all that medication that Big Doc B got him hyped up on. He wanna see you and London, together.”

  “Well, too fucking bad! I don’t want to see that no-good female-beating brother of yours!” London rolled her eyes as she kept a cold, wet rag pressed onto Kenya’s swollen face. “After what he did to my sister I should call the damn police and press charges on him!” She leaped to her feet with anger.

  “Bitch! I wish you would call five-oh on Storm!”

  O.T. was now standing toe-to-toe with London, who wasn’t in the mood for backing down. She still had a beef with him from earlier, but discussing that part would have to wait. Also sitting in the living room with a permanent grim expression was Paris. O.T. and his girl had been feuding ever since she stepped foot back inside their apartment. O.T., cold busted, had the nerve to try to lie about being at the mall with Chocolate Bunny. Even after Paris described stitch by stitch everything that the slut was wearing, just like a cheater, he still denied it.

  Paris knew that her girl Jordan saw his ass, no doubt about it, but she wasn’t gonna put her on front street or throw her up underneath the bus. Paris had just enough time to smack the shit out of O.T. and brace up to battle with his lunatic butt, when the call came in that Storm was awake and asking for him. The two promised to settle things up later that night as they put their differences aside and rushed over. Paris, fed up with his bully routine, got up in O.T.’s face, daring him to put his hands on London, Kenya, or her. O.T., feeling outnumbered, decided to try to reason with the hostile females, mainly Kenya.

  “Listen, I don’t know if all three of y’all is bleeding at the same time or what, but you gotta expect for Storm to be tripping right about now!” O.T. leaned over and looked Kenya in her eyes. “Don’t none of us know what the fuck he had to go through and endure over there, do we? What the hell, that guy been shot, leg fucked the hell up, ear sliced, and almost starved to death, and you hoes wanna bug out because one of y’all got roughed up a little for starting all the bullshit from jump!”

  Kenya was starting to feel remorse and guilt for having an attitude that Storm had kicked her ass without giving her a chance to talk. “I guess you’re right, O.T.” She removed the rag from her black-and-blue bruised jaw and got up off the couch. “Please, London, can you just go up there with me to see him for a minute?”

  London folded her arms and turned her focus on the green grass and flowers that were right outside the huge picture window. She ignored her sister’s request, acting as if the devil himself had asked for help burning Bibles on Easter Sunday morning.

  “Get your punk-ass up them damn stairs before I drag you up there!” O.T. pushed London, who swung on him, but missed.

  “Paris, I strongly suggest you get your coward so-called man before I say something that everyone will regret.” London caught herself from falling into the sofa table. “Now that I think about it . . .”

  Kenya remembered all the accusations that Storm made, including going down on O.T. and the fact that London owned up to it and even seemed proud. Kenya knew her twin’s personality had turned foul and spiteful. She was in pain and sore, but knew that if London let that little cat out the bag, everybody in the house would be thumping.

  “Please, London, I’m begging you.” Kenya gave her the look, knowing exactly what her twin was only seconds from saying. “I’ll do anything you want me to do. Just come on!” Kenya pulled her stubborn sister by the arm and led her up the staircase.

  London turned back, giving O.T. the evil eye as she watched Paris start to argue with him.

  The twins were almost at the bedroom door, when Kenya stopped and whispered in London’s ear. “I know you and O.T. was fucking around this afternoon and that shit was rotten as hell. Me and you can kick it about that later tonight, but you got to promise me that no matter what, you won’t go off on Storm. He was confused and he’s still in so much pain, physically and mentally.” Kenya held both of London’s hands. “Please, London, be calm, for me!”

  “All right—for you, Kenya I will and only you. I’ll be on my best behavior, because as far as Storm and O.T. are concerned. I’m past being done!”

  The twins joined hands as they slowly walked into the bedroom, making eye contact with Storm.

  PARIS

  “Damn O.T., why you always gotta go for bad all the time? Especially when it comes to females! Shit already fucked up enough without you trying to fight Kenya’s sister because she don’t wanna jump when you want her to.” Paris was sick and tired of him and his wild ways. “I bet you don’t be all mean-mugging and posted up in that nasty tramp Chocolate Bunny’s face with that madness, do you?”

  O.T. leaned back on the love seat and sucked his teeth like a woman. “I already told your ass I don’t know what the fuck you talking about, so do me and yourself a favor and stop jumping to conclusions, blaming me for shit I ain’t do before I really do backtrack and bang her black ass again!”

  “You know what, you can do what the hell you want to do, but remember, two can play that game. It’s nothing!” Paris took her purse off of the coffee table and nonchalantly made her way to the front door. “So think about that the next time your smart-ass goes missing in action!”

  Paris started up her car and sped away, leaving O.T. looking dumbfounded.

  “Kick rocks bitch!” he mumbled, walking upstairs.

  16

  It’s True

  “Hi Storm,” Kenya spoke in a low, soft tone. “O.T. told me that you wanted to see me—or should I say us.” She pointed over to London.

  Sto
rm, still extremely sore from earlier, sat all the way up in the bed, wiping his eyes. “Come here, Kenya. Come closer so I can see.” The twins held each other’s arms, carefully approaching Storm, who was shaking his head in disbelief. He squinted as the girls came closer to the light. “Shit! What kinda game is this?”

  “Storm, I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you about London,” Kenya begged, getting on her knees at the edge on the bed. “I just didn’t think that you’d understand.”

  “What? Why not? Have I ever given you a reason to fear me, Kenya? Have I ever tried to control you? All this mess could have been avoided!” He came to terms the best he could.

  “No.” Full of shame she dropped her head to avoid eye contact with him, letting her hair drape over her distraught, battered face. “Never once, Storm.”

  “Then why?” he asked, keeping his eyes glued to London as he questioned Kenya. “What was the big fucking deal? Can you tell me that?”

  The sound of him raising his voice caused London to speak up and intervene on her sister’s behalf. “It seems as if to me that you have some kind of anger management issues. That trait must run in your family,” London sarcastically added. “My sister probably didn’t tell you about me because she figured that you would disapprove of anyone who wasn’t agreeable with your criminal behavior or lifestyle.”

  “Oh yeah, is that right?” he fired back, not moved by her speech.

  “It appears that way to me, especially by the looks of Kenya’s face, you freaking animal!”

  Storm had momentary forgotten about the harsh-ass kicking that he’d put on his girl. Remorsefully, he reached over, touching Kenya on her chin. “Look up at me.” She obliged, hesitantly moving the hair out of her face, exposing the damage that would more than likely take days—maybe weeks—to heal. “Damn, Kenya! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do all of that. You just caught me off guard.” He then pulled her off the floor and onto the bed with him. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”