Dirty DNA (G Street Chronicles Presents)

by BlaQue

  “Hola Mami.” Juan said with a Chester the Molester type smile. That shit made me uneasy, and made the hair on the back of my neck stand to attention.

  “Hello.” I said in a low monotone just trying to hurry the shit along because I ain’t trust Juan one bit, and I think Pinky felt it because she reached for the briefcase that was in my hand.

  Pinky stepped up to the car with her long dreads hanging down her curvy frame. She extended the briefcase to the opening in the car and Juan shook his head.

  “YaYa, my dear we did not discuss you bringing company. No matter how beautiful the company is, this punta should not be approaching me.” Juan said addressing me.

  As if Juan pushed the button in Pinky’s mind that screamed, kill a nigga, she pushed the briefcase in my chest and pulled her Nina from her side holster under her pink Harley jacket. It was all done in one swift, fluid movement. It was obvious that Juan didn’t know he was fucking with a trained killer and he flinched at the sight of the steel that he was staring down the barrel of.

  “Juan I assure you that you do not want to make an enemy of Pinky.” She is a good girl, but she can be a very bad girl if need be.” I said handing the briefcase to him. All the while Pinky did not lower her aim from Juan’s face.

  “I think you will find all of what you are expecting is there and we should never cross paths again. I even want to thank you for the service you provided for my family for that ‘thing’ you did.”

  Juan looked as confused as a mentally-challenged three year old that had just had a set of algebraic equations put in front of him.

  “I see you are confused. Maybe I should fill you in. Papi was no friend of mine. Actually, he was an enemy and he was definitely on his way out; whether you did it or I did it, he was done. I guess you didn’t do your homework on who you were fucking with? I am sure my father wouldn’t appreciate you threatening me and making me pay Papi’s debt. But since you came along at the right time, I figured I would entertain you by giving you what you asked for. Juan, please don’t ever disrespect me or my business associate again.” I said.

  Juan finally found the balls to speak up. “And just who is your father and why should I care about who he is?” He sneered.

  “Darnell Clayton. Is that enough to make you understand the caliber of bitch you are fucking with?” I responded sparking a Djarum cigar.

  I watched Juan’s face frown up and fidget in his seat. He didn’t look too happy to know that he was being one-upped by a female. I started to realize that most of these dudes didn’t like to be showed up by a bitch. Maybe it was an ego thing. No matter what it was, they had better deal with it because I was here to stay. I wasn’t going anywhere unless someone toe tagged my ass. Pinky still hadn’t forgiven Juan for his disrespect. She kept her aim trained on his dome and wasn’t going to drop her piece until she either got the apology she wanted, or she did his ass.

  “Look YaYa, I want no problems with you or your family. Let’s just forget all of this happened. We are done here.” He said unsure of how to get out of the bullshit he had placed himself in. He closed the briefcase and was getting ready to make an exit when Pinky let off round after round into the car. She lit up that car like the Fourth of July. Juan’s driver had holes in his chest the size of golf balls. Juan’s head was no more.

  Pinky calmly reached on what was left of Juan’s lap and removed my briefcase. She handed it to me. I released the latches and handed her all the money inside the briefcase. I smirked knowing it was money well spent! There was no way I was going to let Juan live! She gave me a knowing nod and walked calmly back to her bike, pulled on her helmet, mounted her pink motorcycle, and exited the garage. I started walking back to my own vehicle quickly and saw what I had forgotten. My baby brother was watching me looking shook like he was next up on my hit list. I slid in the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  “Here hold this.” I said handing him the briefcase. I pushed on the gas and drove out of the garage because I was sure the whole damn city of Capital Heights heard them hot ones sound off.

  Once we got out of the garage safely, I instructed Neko who sat motionless in the passenger seat, to wipe down the briefcase. I pulled out a J of Kush from the ashtray and sparked it up. I thought about what I was going to say to Neko. I figured, sorry little brother for exposing you to a murder wasn’t going to cut it.

  “Neko, I didn’t mean for you to ever see anything like that. Shit just happened and Pinky ain’t to be fucked with. She has a hot head. I’m…I’m sorry.” My voice trailed off as I inhaled the thick smoke from the blunt. I exhaled the smoke and my mind drifted to thoughts of how my Dad had introduced me to this game. It wasn’t quite as harsh, but I did get brought into the game to serve my purpose and maybe Neko was brought in to serve his. Maybe by some sick twist of fate, it was meant for him to be present for the events of the day. Maybe it was time for him to get his feet wet.

  Neko just nodded his head up and down as if it were all cool. We rode in silence all the way to Georgetown. I caught him watching me from time to time as though he were with a complete stranger. I hated the looks he gave me. It made me feel unclean. True bill, I didn’t even know what I had unearthed by exposing my brother to my murder and mayhem. I said it before. Christa bred a killer in me. Who knew her DNA was so powerful? It was like I had added fuel to a smoldering fire. Neko was hungry to know all about the “Family Business” and would not take no for an answer. It was like murder woke him up and turned him on. Instead of all the things we talked about that fateful day, he did the opposite. He wasn’t interested in school and his friends. He wanted to go to the gun range and run the streets. He was smoking weed and staying out all night. He lost interest in his art and was constantly on my ass about putting him on. How could I deny him a taste of the streets?

  Speaking of the streets, they were talking and my name was ringing bells in them muthafuckas. Niggas and bitches both knew I was, “that bitch,” and I wasn’t gonna’ let anyone or anything get in my way of making money. Pinky’s actions had just further boosted my reputation. I was loving it! It was like riding an orgasm out until I was spent from the passion.

  Chapter 16

  Island Café

  Upsher Street

  NW Washington, DC

  I was about seven pulls into my J when my cell phone began vibrating on the table next to me. Lazily, I looked at it and wondered why NiQue didn’t have any other friends outside of me to bother early on a Saturday morning.

  “Yo, what it do?” I answered.

  “Nothing girl, just let Dread out the door. I told you that nigga would make his way back over to get some of this good good.” NiQue giggled. “That nigga can flow like shit girl. I might make him my man. He just told me that he just got signed. He and a few of his other boys that fuck with Cap Citi Entertainment just got the green lights for the mainstream. ” She continued.

  “Maybe we could both fuck with some big time rappers.” She said excitedly.

  I shook my head and let out a plume of smoke. I was not interested in hearing the torrid details of her session with who was supposed to be my play thing. Nor was I interested in her trying to make plans to become that man’s girl. I knew he only fucked her because I had mysteriously disappeared. NiQue most likely threw the pussy at him sideways and he didn’t know she was my friend. I listened to her babble on and on until she mentioned Sheik.

  “Wait you saw Sheik last night? Where did you see him?”

  “See now I know you weren’t listening to anything I said to you because I just told you I saw him up at Black’s Carwash on Florida Avenue. Apparently, Dread and Black are boys and Dread went to get his ride cleaned. When we were pulling out of the carwash, I saw Sheik. He spotted me and asked me where your black ass was.” She laughed.

  “NiQue, I don’t ever listen to your ass girl because you never make any damn sense. Now what did Sheik say he wanted?”

  “He just asked me where you were and if I would tell you to cal
l him. He said he got some more business for you.” She said.

  I sunk back into the bed feeling defeated. He didn’t want me, he wanted to handle business. I hadn’t been fucked in over a month. The last piece of dick I had was dead and gone and wasn’t coming back. Maybe that was what was wrong with me. I had been real snappish and ready to squabble with anyone who wanted to try me. Lack of sex could make me an evil bitch. NiQue was still going on and on in my ear, and I had no clue what the fuck she was saying. I decided I was going to interrupt her and try to get her to go out with me.

  “Damn, Motor Mouth. Can I get a word in edgewise?” I said.

  “You think you can stay off of that dude’s dick long enough to go out with me tonight? Girl, I haven’t had any form of sex since our dearly departed Papi. I have to find a replacement.” I said.

  I told her I would call her later after I found something hot to wear. After all, I was on a mission to get a plaything until I got up with, Mr. Sheik the Real Thing. I deaded the J and swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I turned to face the mirror that was on the adjacent wall. My chocolate skin was glowing and my body wasn’t a size six, but I got hips and curves that will make a nigga sick. I loved me all over. I was ready for someone to love me all over too. I got dressed and headed down the hall to check on Neko. That lil’ nigga was really getting beside himself. He was staying out late and I know he was getting higher than gas prices.

  I let myself into his room without knocking and there was my baby brother standing upright with some little tramp seated on the edge of the bed with his dick lodged down her throat. Neko had his head thrown back in ecstasy with his hands planted firmly on the back of the girls head. He was so busy thrusting in and out of her mouth that he didn’t even see me. I was glad he hadn’t seen me too because that would have been real awkward. I backed out of Neko’s room and headed for the steps. Right before I grabbed the handle to leave out the door, I reminded myself to have a serious talk with my baby brother about hood chicks and bringing them to the house. I also reminded myself to grab him some rubbers because a baby was something none of us were ready to have. I turned the handle and Daddy was standing on the other side of the front door.

  “Hi Daddy! I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” I sang, pulling him in for a hug. I then noticed something was very wrong because my father didn’t hug me back. He barely acknowledged my presence in front of him. I immediately stepped back and examined his worried face.

  “Is there something going on that I need to know about Daddy?” I asked him with fear mounting.

  Daddy tried to smile and tell me there was nothing to worry about. He tried to tell me that he was just tired and still had some business to take care of before he could settle in for a mid-day nap. I knew he wasn’t telling me everything. Over the years I got used to my father being elusive and secretive. It was just a part of who he was and what he did. He stepped into the house and I stepped back in with him. He was holding a piece of paper in his hands and was not trying to let me see what was on it. I decided I wasn’t going to pester him with questions about what was really going on and why he looked shook. I just let him know that Neko had company and that I was going to step out for awhile. I gave him the weekly numbers since it was the first time I had seen him in week. We never kept the same time and hours. We had both gotten so busy, we barely crossed paths. If it weren’t for Neko giving me status updates on Daddy, I would never know what was going on with him.

  I kissed my father’s cheek and tried to steal a glance of the solitary sheet of paper that looked to be the source of his worry. He pulled the paper out of my reach and sight when I went to kiss him. I headed out the door, finally making it to the car, and pulling out of the driveway. I figured I wouldn’t go too far to shop. The Solbiato shop was only a little ways down the block. I found a space, although I was kicking myself for driving down the block. The parking in Georgetown was horrendous. It would take a solid hour to just find someplace to park at times. I found a space because it was early and the serious shoppers hadn’t hit G-town yet. I knew it wouldn’t be too long before the die-hard shopping fanatics would be flooding the overly populated streets. I walked into the shop and was drawn to the bright colors. That was the “in thing” for the summer; bright clothes and shoes.

  I saw a tall man in the corner of the store that appeared to work in the shop. I needed him to get an item off of the wall that I wanted to try on. As I approached him, I saw he was definitely not an employee. What caught my attention was the design on the back of his shirt. It was the logo for Cap Citi. Either the dude was on Crack’s team or he had just purchased the shirt from somewhere. Either way, the shirt was sick and I wanted one. I knew Neko would like it. It was a picture of the U.S. Capital and it had flames surrounding it. The words under the Capital set in flames said, “We make this Citi Hot!”

  “Excuse me, but where can I get a shirt like that?” I asked the dude wearing it.

  He turned to face me and he took my breath away. He was tall. I mean really tall. He stood about 6’6” and had long soft hair that was pulled into a ponytail. I silently wished that I knew how to braid hair. Especially if that meant that fine ass nigga would be between my legs. His skin was smooth and even, and his eyes were inviting.

  “You can get them off of my label’s website.” He answered.

  Damn, maybe I didn’t have to go to the club to find Mr. Right Now. I think Mr. Right Now had run into me.

  I finally spoke up. “Oh, so you are signed to Crack’s label?” I asked.

  He gave me the once over and was surprised to see that I knew who Crack was.

  “Oh, so you know my people then huh?” He asked.

  “I might.” I laughed.

  “Well, it sounds like you know more than most. But you can get the shirts from the website.” He said and then turned to finish his task of sifting through the jeans.

  “Well, thank you for the information…Ahhhh, I didn’t catch your name.” I said hoping he wasn’t going to just end the conversation like that. I was interested in seeing him naked and he was going to allow me that opportunity.

  “The name is Nato but you can call me Jo.” He offered.

  “May I ask how you got Jo from Nato?” I asked trying to keep the conversation going.

  “My stage name is Nato and that is short for Niggas Are Taking Over. Jo is my name.” He said smiling.

  His smile was infectious and I smiled up at him, hoping he could sense that I wanted him to take me in the dressing room and fuck me. I learned that Jo was one of the newest members of The Cap Citi label and was well on his way to being what The Cap called, “God’s Gift.” We stood in the store and talked for awhile.

  “Well Miss…you never gave me your name.” He said looking me over again.

  “You never asked for it, so I ain’t offer it.” I said real cocky like. “Since you want to know…my name is YaYa.”

  “So, YaYa, do you have plans this evening? I would like to get to know you better.”

  I remembered that I had already made plans with NiQue.

  “Yeah, I have plans to go out with my girl. We planned on hitting up the club.” I informed him.

  “Well, are you busy now? I have to go to the studio and handle this music thing and then I am free. Why don’t you go with me and then we can get lunch or something?”

  I wasted no time accepting his offer and decided that going with him was a better option than sitting alone at home with Daddy, who was in his own world; or Neko, who was sure to be into something if he was even home. I purchased my items and walked out of the store with Nato. We headed to my car, since he didn’t drive, and I followed his directions to a neighborhood Southeast. Once we pulled up in front of our destination, I cut the motor off and exited the car following NATO’s moves. We walked up the steps to a house that sat right on MLK Jr. Avenue. He used his keys and opened the doors to the Cap Citi recording studio. The entrance was painted red and there were all sorts of fr
amed pictures of Crack and Dread and various other people posing with stars. Dread was in one of the pictures with a mean mug on his face, giving Mark Wahlberg a pound. There were pictures of Crack with celebrities like Dr. Dre and the famous pimp, Bishop Don Juan.

  I was amazed that Crack was doing so well. It looked as though he was eating good and so was everyone around him. I paused to check out a few more pictures of Dread and couldn’t figure out why I was so taken by him. Even though I was standing there with a handsome specimen of a man, I couldn’t help but be envious of NiQue. We walked further into the house and the living room area was a reception area. Nato explained that there was a receptionist that worked there Monday through Friday. They were using the studio for themselves and renting it out whenever the Cap Citi artists weren’t using the studio. They had a very nice hustle going on and I respected it.

  We walked down some steps and into a sitting area. You could tell it was where all the magic happened. There was a booth and a separate room for the sound engineers equipped with top-of-the-line sound equipment. There were some guys seated in plush chairs and some hood rat looking groupies seated with them. There were thick plumes of smoke coming from the rotation of Js that were being passed around the room in a cipher. The men were free-styling, trying to impress the chicks that were obviously thirsty for them. The men all acknowledged me and Nato, then they went back to their lyrical battle. Out of a room from the back walked Crack, Dread, and some other dude who had a thick African accent. They were laughing and talking when they noticed they had a new guest in their presence.