Mrs. K breathed heavily as she tried to get back up and go after Laurie, but Rosa pulled her back again. “You better not put your hands on her again.” Mrs. K looked at Rosa. Her chest heaved in and out. She was upset, but she dared not to move. She respected Rosa, she didn’t want to challenge the thick, Latino woman. She witnessed Rosa in their kickboxing class get down and, plus, she knew she was wrong. Rosa rushed over and helped Laurie off the ground. Laurie cried hysterically. When Rosa saw the red hand print of her cheek, her heart dropped and her eyes began to water. “This is your baby.” She pulled a crying Laurie into her chest and held her tight. She looked at Calvin and turned her nose. She then looked at Mrs. K., who was sitting on the floor resting her head on her lap. Without saying a word, she escorted Laurie to the kitchen.
“I hate her, I hate her, I wish she dies,” Laurie sobbed.
“Do not talk like that about your mother. Never,” Rose countered.
Calvin reached his hand for Dena. “Get up,” he told her. She looked at his hand and slowly reached out hers to grab it. The two walked hand and hand to her room.
Once Calvin and Dena made it into the room, she let his hand go and continued to her bathroom, locking the door behind her. Dena walked over to her Jacuzzi style tub and prepared a hot bath. She wasn’t in the mood for bubbles, but she didn’t hesitant to pour a nice amount of Calgon into the water. She walked over to her sink and placed both hands on it. Looking into the mirror, she stared at the bags that had formed under her eyes. Nothing but stress, she thought. Life had really taken a toll on her and so sudden. That was the worst. It was like she was being hit back to back with problems, giving her no time to solve or recover from the last. Her hurt was heavy and her soul weak. Stop crying, Dena, she coached herself. You are not weak.
In the bedroom, Calvin thought about how weak Dena had been over the last weeks and knew that he would be putting his plan in motion soon. Seeing her in her current state, he felt it was time. Calvin grabbed his black bag and pulled out a pill bottle. He poured the contaminated powder on one side of the plate. He then reached in his bag and grabbed a small baggie that was filled with pure cocaine, and poured it on the other side of the plate in a shape of an S. He put both of the drug filled contents back in his bag and sat the plate on the nightstand next to him.
Brrrr, brrr. His cell went off. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the screen, it was his mother. He glanced over at the digital clock on the wall, it was well after midnight. “What up, ma, are you alright?” He was a bit concerned.
“Thank God you are ok.” Mrs. Lewis let out a relieved breath.
“What’s the matter, momma?” Mrs. Lewis had his undivided attention.
“I was coming in from bingo a little while ago.”
Calvin looked at the clock again. “This time of the morning?”
“The girls, we took a bus to the casino. They dropped me off at home and waited for me to get in the house. When I got here, there was an envelope on the porch. And, on the front there was a picture of a blue coffin. There was a body drawn in chalk, and yellow and black police tape drawing on it. In bold letters, it read, Black in Yellow. And, underneath, it said, A Coward dies a thousand deaths a G dies but once.”
“A G dies but once,” he repeated above a whisper. That bitch ass nigga Pastor G called himself looking for him. If they weren’t at the hospital that day, he would have killed that fool. He knew it was just a matter of time before they ran into each other again and he couldn’t wait, but the nigga going to his mom’s house was straight disrespect. “Look, I’m on my way. Get your…”
“Baby, I am at Sister Pearly house. I will be fine. I am only staying here tonight and then I am going back home.”
“You ain’t going back there.”
“Ain’t no wanna be pastor gangster going to scare me. I am going back home. You just do your part and dead his ass.” Calvin stayed quiet for a minute to gather his thoughts.
“Ma you ain’t gotta worry about that. You already know.”
“I sure do, and I will ask God to keep you covered. I hope that fake ass pastor rots in hell.”
“Humph,” was Calvin’s response.
“I am about to take my insulin and go to bed. We will talk tomorrow.”
“I love you.”
“And, I love you.” They both fell silent. “Calvin.”
“Yes, momma.”
“You are all I got left.”
“You have Jazz, how is she?”
“She is being stubborn like you. It’s been a week, go see her.” Calvin thought about the day he went to her house and she went off on him. His vain popped from the side of his neck when that nigga Ken told him to leave because he was upsetting Jazz. He hadn’t seen his baby girl since. He hoped that now that he was all that she had, she would be more receptive to him and possibly forgive him for what she said he did to Pam.
“I will tomorrow, later. I’m going to go tomorrow.” And, they hung up.
Calvin didn’t see her walk in the room, it was the aroma from her body fragrance that gave her away. He turned around to face her. Dena stood at the end of the bed with her arms folded. He didn’t address her. He laid back in the bed and thought about how he had another nigga to deal with.
“I want you out of my house,” Dena demanded. She didn’t get an immediate reaction out of him. “Now,” she fumed.
Calvin chuckled. “Are you sure about that?” He was still lying down with his eyes closed.
“Yes, I do not allow drugs in my house and don’t deal with addicts.” Calvin jumped up so fast, it startled Dena. He was all in her face.
“Are you calling me out my name?” She stared at him without saying a word. “I ain’t no fucking addict. I do that shit to relax, just like you drink. Your daughter smoke weed.” He caught the surprised expression, but didn’t address it. “I get my nose dirty from time to time. I’ve been doing this shit since I was twenty. That’s twenty three years. That shit ain’t got no control over me. Have you seen any signs of a nigga being an addict? I mean, you do know what one is?”
Dena thought about. She would have never known if she didn’t see the plate on the dresser, but that wasn’t the point. “I just don’t like drugs in my house. I don’t deal with people who mess with drugs.”
Calvin bit his bottom lip. He and Dena stared eye to eye. “Fuck it,” he told her and walked over to the walk in closet to grab the items that he had over there. He made sure to leave the gifts that she brought. He packed his bag, walked toward the door, and placed his hands on the doorknob. He turned and looked at her. She hated to see him go, but she had no choice. Drugs was the reason her daddy used to rape her, drugs was what got her first love killed. Her husband put drugs before their family, drugs were what caused Diesel to make so many mistakes. The things he did to Paris and Jazz was so unlike him.
“When I leave, I ain’t coming back,” he warned.
“Drugs are evil. Drug have been hurting me since I was a kid and still does. I hate what it does to people, especially my loved ones.”
“I’m not weak, Dena. The only one that can control me is my woman, she controls my heart. And, my momma, she controls everything. I ain’t no weak ass nigga.” He shook his head. “Fuck I am explain to your stuck up ass for? You think your shit don’t stink. Man. Bye.” He walked out of the door. Dena thought about how she turned her back on her late husband and how she wasn’t a good support for Diesel when she found out he was using. Maybe if she would have been there for them, they would still be there. Maybe it was the way the universe was allowing her to make her wrong a right. She ran to the door. Calvin was almost to the front door.
“Please, please, don’t go.” Her voice echoed throughout the mansion. Calvin opened the front door. “Please, CALVIN, come back!” He turned and looked at her. “Please.” She leaned against the stair rail. When he didn’t budge, she ran down after him. “Calvin. I am sorry. Please, can you come back up so we can talk?” He stared at her. “Ple
ase. I love you.”
Got her ass, he thought. He played the role as if he was undecided by standing there shaking his head. “Apologize,” he demanded
“I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry. I need you.”
He gave her a head nod. “Baby, your man ain’t weak. I got my shit under control.”
She touched his face. “Drugs don’t have anything to do with you being shot and robbed?” She was referring to the lie he told her the night he was shot at Ken and Jazz’s studio, and the day him and G had a fight at the hospital.
“Fuck no.” He leaned in and kissed her, and she kissed him back. “Let’s go upstairs,” he told her and took her by the hand.
Part Two
Chapter 9- Jay Bo
Jay Bo sat on the edge of the bed in his hotel room. The only light was the one from his cigarette. He was in deep thought. It had been almost a month since he killed Diesel Kenslow, and now he was ready to make his next move. It was just a matter of time before his parole officer came looking for him to send him back to jail. He hadn't checked in once since he been out and he wasn't planning on it. The thing he gave a fuck about was killing the muthafuckas that hurt his sister. Paris was all he had. She was the only reason why he looked forward to making parole. She was his hope, his inspiration, and a muthafucka took her from him. When Jay Bo called home and Paris told him how she was beat up and damn near raped at the club where she worked, Jay Bo was hurt because he thought he should be there to protect her and he was angry with himself because he wasn't. When he got the news that Paris was killed shortly after that, he thought he was going to lose his mind. People would say that he did if they knew how he stuck on the special unit yard and killed three inmates that were in jail for the very same thing Diesel did to Paris, rape a woman. He hated those niggas with all his heart. He wished they all burned in hell. He believed they would, but hell wouldn’t got there quick enough. It had to be Allah to grant him his freedom. Only two years after his sister died, he went up for parole and it was granted. The state didn’t know, but they fucked up.
Jay Bo got up from the bed, walked into the bathroom, and hopped in the shower. It was almost time for the club to open. Foxxy, a chick from the club he hooked up with, told him that it was the night that GMAN, the bouncer, would be returning to work; Paris had told him about how the bouncer rushed in there and helped her rush Diesel. She told him everything.
****
“I knew the nigga was fucking with the white bitch and Jazz cousin, Yay,” she told her brother when he called.
“Nigga, what’s his name?” JB wanted to know.
“Diesel, Yay momma said she thinks his last name is Kenslow.”
“Diesel Kenslow.” He made a mental note. “Finish telling me.”
“So, we fucking like an hour, the nigga was acting mad wild, like a fucking animal. On my brother, he hit every hole.” She paused and waited for his reaction. She and her brother were cool, they talked about everything, but she still felt funny with talking about her sex life.
“Finish, P,” he said somberly.
“So, an hour in he was still at it. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ he kept shouting as he banged my pussy up. I’m like, no, that's enough. I tried to move, but he locked his arm around my neck. I couldn’t breathe. ‘Oh shit. Oh shit...’ he grunted as he kept screwing me, and then, ‘Ahhhhhhh...’ Diesel finally busted. His 6'2, one hundred and ninety pound body collapsed on top of me. I’m like, nigga, get the fuck off me. He lifted up and I got up. My ass and coochie were throbbing. I was pissed, I start going off on his ass, you crazy muthafucka. What the fuck you on, nigga? Don't say Viagra because you on some other shit… I swear I wanted to spit on that nigga. He pulled up his paints and was like, ‘Shut up. If you can't handle real dick, get out the business.’ I’m like, no the fuck you didn’t. I placed my hands on my hips as I watched him grab a water bottle and drink it like he had not a care in the world. Nigga, fuck you, I yelled, you on some shit. Ain't no way it took that long to bust, and you was acting like an animal in the pussy. I fixed my thong and bikini top. My bag was still around my wrist. I told him, I think you owe me a tip. He told me fuck me, bitch, and he didn’t owe me shit. When he said that, I went off. I asked him who the fuck is his wannabe black ass talking to like that? Just like that, Diesel’s hand went in the air, connected to the side of my face, and I flew on the couch. You know I wasn’t going out like that. I grabbed the ice bucket and threw it at his ass. I jumped from the couch and charged at him. That nigga gave me a right, left, I couldn’t do shit but fall backward onto the table. The way he stood over me, I got kind of scared. I start screaming for him to get the fuck out, I then spit the blood from my mouth in his face. I tried to kick him in the nuts, but I missed and that’s when the nigga back handed me. He went to hit me again and that’s when the bouncer, GMAN ran in and we jumped his ass before he got tossed out the club.”
After listening to his sister tell him how she was damn near raped and disrespected, JB was so mad he had tears in his eyes. “That nigga is good as dead. Call Meechie.” He and Meechie were best friends. The three of them had always been more like family.
“He already know, he is supposed to be over here to take me to find the nigga. Yay know about him because Jazz mess with him.”
“Alright, tell Meechie I said handle that nigga ASAP. I will call tomorrow. Tell the bouncer I said good looking out. I owe him one.”
“I will,” she said, wishing he was there.
“Alright, baby girl. I know Yay will lead y’all to the nigga. She got your back one hundred percent.”
Humph, thought Paris. After Trina told her about Yay kidnapping her baby, and she hadn’t called and checked on her, she was salty. She wouldn’t mention to her brother, though. She didn’t want him to know that she was on some grimy shit herself, and that was to blackmail Diesel’s momma for the safe return of the baby, which she later ended up getting killed by her best friend for the money. Yay was a cold bitch, but JB had yet to find that out.
*****
JB wanted to find Yay. Meechie had told him that she never showed up to Paris’ funeral or contacted him after he told her she was found dead. His gut told him that Yay and Paris got into some mess, and his sister ended up getting caught up behind it. He assumed that Yay was scared for her life, so she disappeared. It had to be deep because when he went by the projects to pay Yay’s mom a visit, they said she was found shot and killed in her home. Something wasn’t right and he needed Yay to let him know what it was. Jay Bo reached his hand into the shower. He turned on the hot water, and then the cold. Without checking the temperature, he took off his boxers and got in. Before Jay Bo hit the club, he thought it'd be a good idea to go by Jazz’s house since he hadn't stopped by in few weeks. It was late, but fuck. He was going to knock on her door himself and ask had she seen Yay. Foxxy told him the last place that she dropped Yay off at was Jazz’s place, but each time he showed up to the house she wasn't there. He didn't want to alert Yay, so he never knocked on the door. He wanted to try one more time before he got at the bouncer.
JB hoped in his blue narc car and made his way to Jazz’s house. When he pulled up, all the lights were on and there was a Rover parked in the driveway. Her nigga must be here, he thought as he put his gun in the pocket of his hoodie and got out. Jay Bo stood at the door and knocked. He noticed there was a doorbell, so he rang it. Within a few minutes, Jay Bo was eye to eye with a brown skinned dude. He seized the muscular guy up. He was a lot bigger then he was, but he didn’t give a fuck. He was heated and didn’t mind dying.
“Who are you and what you doing at my door?” Calvin looked the young nigga up and down. He regretted that he wasn’t strapped. He’d left his gun back at Dena’s house.
“I’m looking for Yay-Yay, I heard this was where she stayed.”
“Naw, she don’t live here.” He gave the little nigga a once over.
“Well, do you know how to get in touch with her? I’m Paris’ brother, her best friend that w
as killed.”
Calvin knew exactly who Paris was. Yay had also told him about Paris being killed, but she never told she did it. “Alright, well, I’m her pops. I’ll let her know you looking for her.” Jay Bo thanked him and gave Calvin his number. His next stop was the strip club. He looked at his watch. It was too early. Fuck, I’ll just chill in the parking lot, he thought as he made his way to Starz.
Wack & Yay Yay
It was almost nine at night and Wack was still lying around the house in sweats and a t-shirt, something that he rarely ever did. Wack had been in his funk for a couple of weeks now. Yay knew that was so unlike him not to leave the house and the way he'd snap at her when she tried to talk to him, she kept her distance because she didn't want to rub him the wrong way. Wack got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen to get a beer. Yay stood over the stove taking the chicken from the boiling water. She was about to prepare chicken tacos. When Wack walked over to the fridge, she glanced at him. She wanted so bad to ask him what was up, but the nigga’s demeanor was a sure sign to leave him the fuck alone. Wack opened the fridge, looked inside, and when he didn't see what he was looking for, he slammed the door so hard, it startled Yay.
"Damn, ain't no fucking beer?" Wack barked.
"No, I can go get some when I'm done in the kitchen," Yay responded, hoping that was a start of their conversation. But, Wack ignored her and walked back into the living room, grabbed his cap, keys, and left.
Wack’s first stop was the liquor store. He needed something to drink and to get his nose dirty. He was carrying the blame of three people’s death. Three people that he cared about in his own way. Even before he found out Sabrina was his daughter, he cared about the young girl. He may not have had her best interest at heart, but he didn't want anything bad to happen to her, either. Then, his nigga No Limit, his partner in crime, a nigga that was down for whatever and whenever, was gone. That was a hard bite to swallow, but he knew he had to get over it soon. Then, there was Lisa. When he heard the news of her killing herself, he was shocked. He was a little fucked up behind it, too. What drove her to it, he wasn’t for sure, but he had a feeling it had something to do with men. He knew she was very insecure and loved hard, but he didn’t hesitate to use that to his advantage.
Too Salty: Ain't a Damn Thang Changed (Part 6) Page 6
