Ruthless and Rotten

by Ms. Michel Moore

  Storm was left standing speechless. Mouth dry, head spinning, adrenalin racing and heart pumping still trying to come to terms that he’d somehow mistakenly had sex with London, let alone gotten his fiancée’s sister knocked up. He lowered his head in shame. “I . . . I . . . I . . .” Storm stumbled over his words attempting to offer some weak-ass explanation. “I must’ve been . . .”

  “Must’ve been what motherfucker!” Kenya, with contempt in her tone drew back damn near to the sky smacking the dog shit outta Storm’s face, “Or should I say sister fucker! How could you?” she pleaded with intense rage ready to swing on him again. “What about me? What about us?”

  Before getting a chance to react to the confusing allegations or retaliate from the dooming sting of Kenya’s strong hand, Storm was saved fortunately by his brother racing down the street swerving up into the driveway and jumping out his car.

  “Hey Bro, can you believe what this one right here and Paris dumb asses done did?” O.T. broadcasted giving Kenya the sho nuff evil eye. “They done messed our business all the way up! Royce ain’t nothing more than an old coward, but even a mouse gotta roar when his girl and baby get done!”

  “Whatever Negro! It couldn’t be helped!” Kenya yelled back while stepping inside the condo not in the mood for any more drama to entertain the neighbors. “Boy Bye! Go ya ass home for once and mind ya own business! It was an accident! I ain’t have no choice! Now be ghost, we busy!”

  “Busy?” O.T. brushed past Storm following his soon to be sister-in-law. “Is that what you retarded Detroit hoes call killing an innocent bitch and her baby and probably starting an all out drug war? She ain’t do nothing to y’all jealous tricks!”

  Kenya paused turning around pointing her finger in O.T.’s face. “For one, if you would’ve been taking care of home instead of leaving all them unanswered questions floating around, Paris probably wouldn’t have been tripping. And two, I was at the club shutting down like I was supposed to be doing. Your girl is the one that showed up with pajamas on waving a gun all around. Then she slipped up and let the next bitch gangster her for that motherfucker!” She was heated going into the kitchen to get the satchel off the table. “You can trust, if it wasn’t for me—”

  Kenya’s mouth shut as she quickly scanned the room searching for the brown paper bag containing Chocolate Bunny’s purse and the two burners. Her eyes darted from the table to the floor, the floor to the counter, the counter to the stove and back to the floor.

  “If it wasn’t for you what?” O.T. was dead on her heels standing tall chest out like he did no wrong waiting for a response.

  “Awww hell naw! Ain’t this about a bitch!”

  “Awww hell naw what Kenya?” Storm finally found the courage to speak up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Where’s that bag?” She tossed a loaf of bread and a half filled coffee mug onto the floor before kicking over two of the chairs stooping down on one knee so she could clearly see under the table. “I know I left it in here. I know I did, but I don’t see nothing. No bag and no purse!”

  “What bag?” O.T. questioned watching his older brother join in the frantic search. “What y’all looking for? And what fucking purse you talking about? Y’all both done gone nuts in this crib!”

  “I know London didn’t! Please tell me she didn’t!” An alarmed Kenya ignored O.T. placing her hand on her forehead praying that her sister hadn’t taken evidence to the murder.

  “Baby listen, I know you pissed,” Storm hesitantly bargained. “But we gotta stop that cab she in and get them guns back. Ain’t no telling what that crazy bitch gonna do next.”

  “Yeah, especially since ya nasty behind tossed her out in the streets! And was she a crazy bitch when you was hittin’ it?”

  “What!” O.T. yelled with his eyes bucked leaning against the frame of the door. “You threw ole girl out! And what guns in a bag y’all trying to get back? And damn! Who was hittin’ it?”

  “Ya scandalous brother, standing over there looking stupid, ran up in my sister behind my back and now she say she pregnant!”

  “Damn Kenya! You bullshittin’!”

  “Naw O.T. I wish I was, but I ain’t!” Kenya ran toward the front door scrambling to grab her car keys. “Now I gotta find his no good baby momma before she does some more trifling mess. The gun Paris had, not to mention the burner we kept behind the bar is in that bag! This night just keeps getting better and better!”

  “Y’all two stay here.” O.T. insisted knowing his brother and Kenya had some serious talking to do. “I’ll find her! It ain’t but one way the cab could’ve went. The main freeway is shut down and all the traffic is rerouted.”

  “Oh, yeah, you right. I forgot about that.” Storm blurted out not yet ready for the confrontation of a lifetime. “You sure you don’t want me to bounce with you?”

  “Did I hear you correct?” Kenya rolled her eyes in disbelief throwing her keys down onto the floor. “What’d you say?”

  “I was just saying.”

  “You was just saying what?” she shifted her weight to one hip.

  Storm shook his head shrugging his shoulders. “I was . . .”

  “Nigga please! You really tripping! Your best bet, right about now, is to get the fuck to explaining!”

  “I don’t even remember ever touching that girl! I can’t stand the ho!” Storm started defending himself and getting his nuts back since O.T. was there watching him get chin checked by his girl.

  “Yeah dude, you’s tripping, but hold it down fam!” O.T. chuckled amused knowing his older sibling was about to catch it. “I got this, but on the real, you and her probably need to double back to Alley Cats, do some damage control and get rid of that body. Thelma and Louise messy dumb asses, nine outta ten, got my home girl Chocolate Bunny stretched out on top of the bar like it ain’t shit!”

  “Fuck you with the all them jokes!” Kenya shouted as O.T. pulled out in search of London. “Fuck you!”

  LONDON

  “Dang this traffic is backed up. Where is everybody going this late or should I say early?”

  The cab driver glanced at the young antsy girl in his mirror and smiled. “Even at four-oh-five in the morning ya gonna have slowdowns Miss. With all the construction going on in town, what was once a twenty minute ride has since doubled.”

  “Oh,” London sighed, settling back in the seat staring at the bright red glare coming from the broken brake lights of a rusty old Ford Tempo. “I guess what I need to do will just have to wait twenty extra minutes. I know the delay isn’t your fault.”

  As she sat there with a suitcase on one side of the seat, clutching the brown paper bag, which held the fate of her sister and Paris, London closed her eyes trying her best to fight off the mildew smells of the car’s interior that were making her increasingly nauseous.

  “I’ll hurry Miss, but Police Headquarters is clear across town, so please bear with me.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled eyes still shut heartbreakingly reflecting on the ultrasound of Chocolate Bunny’s innocent now deceased baby she had tucked in her own purse.

  Every bump and pothole seemed to rattle the cab’s frame shaking an already nervous London. As the car stopped and started, swerved and veered from lane to lane, she somehow managed to doze off. Before the expectant mother could get a chance to get into a deep sleep, she was abruptly awakened by the sound of the cab driver cursing.

  “What in the hell is wrong with these folks?” He irately argued. “Why do some of our people think they above the law? Where are the police when you need them?”

  “Huh?” London’s ears got on high alert after hearing the word police. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  “Some out of control lunatic behind us is dodging in and out of traffic!” The driver hissed watching defensively out his rear mirror. “He’s gonna cause an accident if he ain’t careful!”

  London gazed out the back window just in time to see a pair of high beam head lights loom past barely avoiding s
ideswiping the cab. As she twisted her body back around to the front, the bag she was holding fell to the floor causing the two guns to fall out. “Oh, no!” she panicked leaning over to conceal them.

  “Hey what you doing?” the driver yelled out to the mystery driver. “What do you want?”

  When London raised her head, she was greeted by the unpleasant sight of O.T.’s huge closed fist banging on the window.

  “Open the door London!”

  “Mister, are you crazy?” The driver answered for her.

  “Open the damn door girl!” This time O.T. used his Tims to put a massive size twelve dent in the door.

  “Leave me alone! Leave me alone!”

  “Do you know this man?” The driver questioned London scared his window was about to be shattered in pieces. “Why is he doing this to my cab?”

  “London, I’m not playing with ya ass! Open this motherfucker!” O.T. ordered pulling on the door handle as other drivers looked on.

  Traffic let up slightly and temporary the cabby was able to escape the attack on his vehicle moving up three or four yards before stopping again. O.T. forced to run alongside the car was now even more agitated and determined for London to get out.

  “Should I call the police Miss? I don’t want trouble!”

  “No, no just wait!” London was confused on what to do next. “Let me just crack the window and see what he wants.”

  “No! If you want to argue with your boyfriend, take your belongings and get out the cab! Please!” bam, bam, bam . . .

  “I’m done with the games!” O.T. promised with certaintly in his voice. “Now get out this fucking cab and let’s go home!”

  “Leave me alone!” London begged trying to press her body over to the other side of the seat her suitcase was occupying.

  The driver knew that his cab would surely have more damage he would’ve undoubtfully been responsible for paying if he continued to let, what he believed to be a late night/early morning lovers’ quarrel to go on. He then made the cowardly decision to unlock the rear door giving O.T. full and complete access to his now distraught passenger. Hearing the clicking sound and the quick motion of the cab’s door being flung open, London got chills not knowing what to expect next.

  “Hurry up before this traffic starts to move or some of these nosy suckers call the damn cops!”

  “Get your hands off me!” London screamed as she was being manhandled drug across the cracked imitation leather seats.

  “Or what?”

  “Don’t touch me!” she tried squirming away.

  “Come on with the dumb shit Ms. Lady!”

  “Who do you think you are? Leave me alone!”

  “Shut the fuck up with all the dramatics and let’s go!”

  O.T. reached over retrieving the suitcase with one hand as he made London step out onto the curb with the other forcefully marching her to his car.

  “Okay! Okay! Just stop yanking on my arm! You’re hurting me!”

  “Well come on!” O.T. loosened his grip tossing the luggage in his vehicles back seat. “Where’s the bag?”

  “What?” London tried in vain to hide the worn ripped sack behind her back. “What are you talking about?”

  “Cut the act girl, me and you know better than that. If I’m out here, snatching ya black-ass out this damn cab, you know I already know! So just give me the mystery bag with them burners, climb ya silly pregnant-ass in the car and let’s ride!”

  “Where are we going?” London looked straight ahead out the windshield, arms folded, embarrassed O.T. knew the whole awful truth, “Because I’m not going back to Kenya’s!”

  “Don’t worry I don’t think ya ass is wanted back over there anyhow. And besides all that, where was you on your way to with these guns anyway?”

  “No where!” London sadly realized she really could’ve turned her own flesh and blood in to the authorities. “I don’t have anybody else here in town that I even know.”

  O.T. started the car and drove off dipping onto a dimly lit side street several blocks over and parked. Turning off the headlights he instinctively ducked down as the red and blue flashing lights of a police squad car flew passed in the direction they’d just left. Carefully easing in an upright position O.T. grabbed the burners as he stepped out. Hitting the button release popping the trunk, the seasoned law breaker cleverly hid the guns in a small corner section that he had designed for such an occasion. The stash box which was under a few old oil stained football jerseys, covered by two spare tires, jumper cables and a rusty jack was ideal.

  Making sure no one in their right mind would want to touch or disturb anything in the trunk he pissed across the entire contents. Even though the smell would start to reek when the trunk got heated it was the lesser of two evils. Smelly trunk or catching several cases! You do the math! Fuck the cops! And fuck them finding two guns he knew for sure had more than a couple of bodies on them, he’d scrub his shit out later! For now it was time to ride! Hopping back inside, he stared at London who was crying hysterically coming to terms that her once perfect life was now shot to hell.

  “All you females going nuts tonight! It must be a full moon!” O.T. rubbed his chin taking his cell phone off his hip. “Let me at least tell Storm and Kenya I got them thangs back. Then I’ll figure out something.”

  “All right,” London sobbed into her shirts sleeve as she watched him make the call. “Thank you.”

  Meanwhile back at the condo . . .

  Kenya slammed the front door almost off the hinges before turning around eagerly to resume her tirade and once again get off into Storm’s ass. “Now back to you!”

  “Please Sweetie! Just listen!” He clutched his hands together wishing all of this was just an awful nightmare and he would soon wake up to a home cooked breakfast in bed. “I swear to God I don’t know what happened!”

  “How can you honestly stand here and take a damn cop to the bullshit? Either you fucking nuts or you think I am!” Kenya insisted. “Whatever the case my sister is pregnant! Now is you the father or what?”

  “Okay, okay, okay.” Storm attempted taking her hand to lead her to the couch. “Can we talk quietly?”

  “You mean as quiet as you and London was when y’all was banging right beneath my nose? You mean that quiet?”

  “Please Baby!”

  “Don’t call me baby ever again! You can save that title for your unborn child. Now tell me what in the hell exactly happened and when! And you better tell the truth or I swear!”

  Storm sat down and tried to relive that disastrous night months ago. He now knew why London had done a three-sixty when it came to the way she looked at him or the way she’d speak to him when they were alone. It all made painful sense. She, not Kenya was the first one to get a taste of his hard pipe the night he discovered he could get an erection again. He remembered being hung over the next day with a headache pounding hard enough to knock the average man on his knees. That was the day the once self-made Kingpin came to the realization he’d had enough of feeling sorry for himself and others pitying him.

  The cards were dealt so he distinctively played his hand the best he was raised to. Now, bingo! Just like that, in a snap of the fingers, in a drop of a dime, he was back where he started from, fucked in the game. London was again the ultimate cause of his life to be in utter turmoil.

  “Okay Baby. I mean Kenya.” He caught himself. “All I can recall was that night I had gotten real drunk. You were gone to the club and London was here. I do think I remember that much.”

  “And . . . don’t stop.” Kenya demanded taking a seat across from Storm rolling her eyes, “Then what?”

  “I was thinking about you all that day. I was hoping that you wouldn’t get tired of me and the fact that I wasn’t hitting you off in the sex department like I used to.”

  “Hmph.” Twisting her neck, sucking her teeth with ghetto-ness expertise that would put most gutter rats to shame, Kenya urged him to continue. “Where is this going?”

&nb
sp; “You know back then I was drinking heavy and popping them pain killers like a motherfucker.”

  “So!”

  “So all them chemicals in a nigga’s body seriously fucks with his brain and shit! Plus, damn, I thought my leg wasn’t gonna never be right.” Storm got on the defensive as he tried to momentarily flip the script. “That stuff had me bugging most of the time and acting a straight fool! I was half out my mind most the damn day and all the nights back then!”

  “And what exactly that got to do with having sex with my sister?” Kenya stood to her feet passionately pacing the room tired of the back and forth word game her and him were playing. “In a hot minute I’m about to go psycho on your ass if you don’t just tell the truth.”

  “I’m trying, but remember Kenya, the truth don’t come so easy in this house!”

  “Nigga please don’t bring that way back when shit up! You better try harder!” Kenya threatened picking up a small but heavy marble statue. “I’m done playing!”

  “Damn! I am. Just go easy!” Storm reasoned. “The whole incident is cloudy in my mind. Somehow I must’ve mistaken her for you and let her seduced me or something.”

  “She seduced you? London? My sister?”

  “Yeah, you should hear some of the slick shit she be kicking when you ain’t around. If I really raped her, why she ain’t call the damn police? Shit, we all just finished eating dinner earlier! I’m telling you Kenya, ya sister been on a mission.”

  “Well it seems like mission accomplished around this bitch! And why this the first time I done heard about her supposedly chasing behind you?”

  “I love ya girl! I’d never do anything to hurt you.” Storm eased his way over to his fiancée trying his best to embrace her. “I love you.”