La Familia

by Paradise Gomez

  I scrambled to get outside. I didn’t know who was shot, me or him. The passenger door flew open and I crashed in a thud to the ground on my side. I crawled on my hands and knees against the rocks and dirt and then spun over on my back and glared at the car. The gun was on the ground also, away from me. Macky stumbled from the car, screaming, “Fuckin’ bitch, you shot me!”

  He was bleeding more. He had been shot, but it wasn’t life threatening. The bullet had zinged by his ear and he was still a threat.

  Macky looked dazed and confused. I continued to watch him stumble from the car and stagger my way. I was scared. There was lots of blood, more on him than me. I jumped to my feet, when he snatched up the gun and I ran away. I popped off my heels and took off sprinting. I had to get away. I didn’t even turn around to see if he was chasing me. I soon found myself lost amid the thick shrubbery and trees that seemed to go on for miles. I didn’t have a clue where I was. I only knew that I was somewhere in New Jersey.

  I ran for what seemed like forever. I didn’t cry out for help. I was scared to, thinking my cries for help would lead him to me. I was tired and breathless. I propped against a large tree and unruffled myself. There was no one around me, only darkness and a peculiar surrounding. I pulled out my cell phone and wanted to dial Mouse’s number. I had to get home. I had to leave here. I started to dial my friend’s number, but abruptly, this wave of grief overcame me and I found myself crying hysterically. I dropped to my knees with my face in anguish and my heart pounding immensely. It felt like I almost couldn’t breathe. Once again, my future was nothing. It was all a lie. I wasn’t sucking or fuckin’ anyone to get a record deal. I was a gangsta bitch, but I wasn’t a slut or that desperate to sleep with a nigga to sign a contract.

  My life was still in danger, though. That maniac was still out there with my gun in his hand, and the only thing I could think about was making it home. I felt weak, hurt, and alone. I dried my tears, touched my bruises, and stood up. I thought about Search. I felt I betrayed him. I shouldn’t have gone behind his back and got with Macky. It turned out to be a serious mistake.

  I had to find my way home and be careful. I looked at my cell phone; there was barely a signal to make a call. I had to roam around and find a signal. It took me twenty minutes to find a decent signal where I was able to make a phone call. I hurriedly dialed Mouse’s number. It rang.

  “Please, pick up. Please, pick up,” I prayed.

  “Sammy?” I heard Mouse answered.

  She sounded like an angel on the other end of the phone.

  “Mouse, I need your help. Help me,” I cried out.

  Chapter Nine

  Mouse

  Every day is a beautiful day when you have peace of mind. I was intoxicated with love and lust. For me, being with Rico and in love, the sun shined brighter, the birds sang louder, and every step was more assured. And my moans bounced off from wall to wall with ecstasy. His touch sent a warm tingle throughout my body. Rico was hitting this pussy from the back. Our intimacy was so strong, our connection with each other unbreakable. I was curved over, knees spread against the carpet, feeling his masculine penis part my moistened lips, exposing my hardened clit; and my breasts flapped away from his hard thrust inside of me.

  “Ooooh, fuck me, Rico. Ooooh, shit, baby, love me right,” I cooed.

  We both were buck naked in the living room. The sixty-inch plasma flat screen was playing a muted Friday After Next. We had stopped watching it a long time ago and began entertaining each other passionately. I loved the way my boo was all over me, sliding his hard cock in and out of me effortlessly. He gripped my hips and I felt his hard dick pounding me, making me scream, tears in my eyes and ready to receive his precious gift while I was getting thoroughly fucked.

  The dick pounding inside me made me bite my lips as I tried to hold back the moans and sounds of pleasure. I always longed to feel his erection invade and manipulate me. I gave him all access to every part of me; if he wanted to fuck me in the ass, I wasn’t going to stop him. We just needed some Vaseline and patience. I felt every inch of him inside me; my womanly juices was all over him.

  I thought he wanted to cum inside me from the back, but he turned me over and I spread my legs for him. There was something comfortable about lying back and feeling your lover pleasing you from head to toe. I wasn’t being selfish, just completely satisfied. I wrapped my legs around him with him on top of me, blanketing me with heated passion. We kissed fervently and he fucked me profoundly while pulling my legs back to my chest, exposing me completely and giving him all access.

  We switched positions again; I climbed on top of him with my nipples crushed against his chest and my breath panting against his. He slipped his arms around me and filled his hands with my ass, his dick piston inside of me. He was all I could think about. He was filling every gap inside of me with his powerful and thick machine.

  “I’m cumming,” Rico cried out.

  “Cum for me, daddy,” I said loudly, feeling my entire body dancing with excitement.

  He felt so good inside of me with me being on top of him, straddling his fine physique. He cupped my breast and gripped my ass, grunting like an animal. My pussy had him speaking in tongues and his face twisted with ample pleasure.

  “I’m coming, baby, shit!” he groaned and squirmed underneath me.

  I worked my thick and shapely hips against him like a race jockey pushing his horse for the win. He squeezed my ass with both hands and grunted with a lasting passion. I felt his penis growing and throbbing harder inside of me. A few more thrusts into my pink luscious lips that engulfed his dick and I felt his strong release within me, his semen swimming around in me, with the sexual rawness turning us into an entwined bliss.

  I lay against my man’s chest and exhaled. He wrapped his arms around me and held me like a blanket of comfort. I closed my eyes and rested for a minute. I needed that dick. It was only round one with Rico with more sexual pleasures to come. The man had stamina. His energy level was high and he could go for another two rounds at least until he was finally done sexing.

  It was a quiet night in our home. With my eyes closed and Rico’s breath nestling my ear, I was about to be in slumber land. But my cell phone ringing and vibrating on the table disrupted the peaceful and calm moment. I wasn’t going to answer it, thought to just let the voice mail pick up, but something inside me told me to answer it.

  I pulled myself away from Rico’s pleasing grasp, hearing him say, “You really gonna answer that?”

  “I think it’s important,” I replied.

  It was almost midnight. He sat up and watched me rush for the cell phone buck naked. The caller ID showed that it was Sammy calling. It had to be important. I started to think something terrible had happened: who got beat down, who got shot, or who was locked up?

  I snatched the phone from the table before the last ring and answered, “Sammy?”

  I couldn’t even speak a sentence when I heard Sammy frantically shout into the phone, “Mouse, I need ya help! Help me.”

  “Sammy, what happened? Sammy, where are you?” I shouted with worry.

  “He tried to rape and kill me,” she exclaimed. It sounded like she had been crying.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What? Who tried to fuckin’ kill and rape you?” I screamed out. “Sammy, fuckin’ talk to me, what is goin’ on?”

  By now, Rico was off his ass and came toward me with a concerned stare. “What’s goin’ on wit’ Sammy?” he asked.

  With tears streaming down my face, I replied, “I don’t fuckin’ know!”

  Rico took the phone from my hands and said, “Sammy, talk to us. Where the fuck are you?”

  I was going crazy. Someone tried to rape and kill my best friend. I was ready to go ham, call up our crew, bring out the pistols, and look for this muthafucka who was living on borrowed time. I just needed a name from Sammy, that’s it.

  “A’ight, just stay there. We on our way there now; just keep ya phone on
,” I heard Rico say to her.

  “Where is she?” I asked Rico frantically.

  “She’s in New Jersey, by the GW Bridge, near some park or shore,” he told me.

  New Jersey? The GW Bridge? I was confused.

  I hurried to get dressed, putting on anything within my reach. Now wasn’t the time to be looking cute. We didn’t have any time to waste. Rico pulled out a few pistols from the bedroom and stuffed the 9 mm into his waistband and handed me the .45. I concealed it on my person and we rushed out the door.

  Under the cover of night, we hurried to his ride. I jumped into the passenger seat with my mind racing with so much shit. Who the fuck did Sammy go to New Jersey with? And why?

  We rushed toward Jersey, getting on the Cross Bronx Expressway and racing to the bridge. Traffic was sparse, and while on the way there, I kept calling Sammy’s phone. We knew she was near the GW Bridge, but we needed a specific location.

  We got to Sammy an hour later. It was hard trying to find her, her calls kept dropping, but we finally did. She was near a dark road by some rocky shore and looking a fuckin’ mess. I didn’t even give Rico a chance to stop the car and park; I hurried toward her and ran to aid my friend.

  “Sammy,” I called out.

  She looked at me with these hurt and angry eyes. Her tearstained face was dirty and bruised, her dress was torn, and she had blood on her. I automatically started to think the worse. When I reached her, I hugged my best friend tightly. Oh my God, what happened to her?

  “Talk to me, Sammy. Where is he at? Is that muthafucka still around here?” I shouted at the same time looking around the area to see if there was anyone else, but nothing. No one else was around.

  I got nothing but silence back from Sammy, though.

  Sammy was strong. This incident didn’t break her. I knew it didn’t break her. She was shaken up, but Sammy was going to bounce back from this and someone out there was a dead man walking, he just didn’t know it yet. We only needed a name and the pistol would do the screaming.

  I locked eyes with Sammy and asked her, “Sammy, who the fuck did this shit to you? Just give me a fuckin’ name and they are dead.”

  She didn’t answer me. Rico finally made his way over with the screw face and pistol in his hand. He was ready for some conflict, but it was only us in the mix. The perpetrator was probably long gone from here.

  “Who the fuck did this to you, Sammy?” he also asked.

  There was still silence and anger with Sammy. I understood the anger, but why was she so fuckin’ silent?

  “Fuck that, we taking you to the hospital,” I said, grabbing her arm.

  “I’m not goin’ to no fuckin’ hospital, Mouse,” she finally spoke, pulling away from me. “I’m okay!”

  “Well, damn, at least we know you can still speak,” I replied dryly.

  “Give us a name, Sammy, and I promise you by week’s end, he’s dead,” Rico said with conviction.

  “I just wanna go home and get some rest,” she replied coyly.

  “You not gonna tell us who the fuck did this to you?” I asked angrily.

  “I just wanna go home and chill, Mouse, that’s all. Forget about it,” she returned with a slight attitude.

  “What?”

  “Fuck it, let’s just go,” Rico chimed.

  I was becoming upset with her for not telling me who it was who tried to rape and kill her. This shit was serious and she was taking it lightly. Whoever it was, he wasn’t going to get away with it. I promised her that.

  We walked back to the car in silence. Sammy crawled into the back seat and I climbed inside behind her. The stillness was troubling me, but Rico and I didn’t continue to press the issue. I wanted to, though.

  Why wasn’t she saying who the nigga was? Was it someone close to us, in our circle or clique? Was she in shock? Was it Search? Nah, he wouldn’t have done the unthinkable to Sammy. We were all friends and Search wasn’t that kind of dude. And Sammy wasn’t the type to trust anyone, and why the fuck was she in New Jersey? So many questions I wanted to ask her, but why ask when this bitch wasn’t trying to answer anything?

  Shit, we were Edenwald Blood Vixens, we always looked out for each other, thick and thin, blood in, blood out, and nothing had changed since I got with Rico. I was still Mouse, that bitch ready to pop the fuck off at the drop of a hat.

  Rico pulled off and started heading back to the bridge. Sammy seemed to be lost in her thoughts. I gazed out the window, staring at the water below and the city skyline from afar. It was a beautiful night, but the mood in the car was so sour. I was still itching to find out who the nigga was. I glanced back at Sammy; she carried a stone-cold expression. She had some minor bruises and cuts; in spite of that, she was fine in my eyes. Maybe she needed to rest and clean up, collect herself and get her mind right, and then she would tell us what went down.

  How did my night begin so perfect and end up so fucked up? But this been our life for so long. It was like you expected shit to happen when things been cool for too long. I started the spring being in a new and loving relationship and we were grinding in this music business. And then just like that, shit can go so wrong within the blink of an eye.

  We arrived at Edenwald and pulled up to Sammy’s building. I wasn’t leaving her alone for the night. I planned on being by her side until everything was cool with her and she told me what happened. Rico was cool with it. He dropped us off and went about his business. I walked with Sammy into the building lobby and then into her apartment. Our turbulent homes were similar, her with her sick mother and me with my abusive father. The apartment was dark and reeked of a foul odor. There wasn’t anything nice in Sammy’s apartment; everything from the little furniture they had to the pots and pans in the kitchen looked run-down and hand-me-down. And the foul smell came from the bathroom; there was a backed-up toilet.

  In her bedroom, Sammy stripped down to her underwear and just climbed into her bed, which was only a shabby mattress against a dirty floor. She threw the sheets over her head and closed her eyes.

  “Just lock the door when you leave, Mouse,” she said to me in a nonchalant manner.

  “So, that’s it?” I spat. “You not gonna tell me what happened to you? You just gonna go to sleep like everything is good?”

  “I just wanna sleep, Mouse, that’s all.”

  I sucked my teeth with aggravation. I couldn’t believe this shit. What was she trying hide from me? Was she scared about something or someone? I wasn’t leaving though. I was going to sleep on the couch and talk to her in the morning. I closed her bedroom door and let her be.

  The next morning, I woke up to find Sammy smoking a cigarette in the building hallway. She was seated with her back against the wall, knees up and puffing in silence. I walked up to her and asked, “Everything okay with you?”

  “Yeah, I’m good,” she replied coolly.

  “So, you gonna tell me what happened last night?” I asked.

  She took another pull from her cigarette and looked up at me with this deadpan gaze. “I’m not tryin’ to talk about it right now, Mouse,” she replied.

  “You know what, Sammy? I’m ya best friend, and I always gonna have ya back. But right now, real talk and shit, I’m startin’ to feel some type of way. Some nigga out there disrespected you to the third degree, and you tryin’ to take this shit lightly. The muthafucka shouldn’t even be breathing right now,” I exclaimed heatedly. “You can’t even give me his fuckin’ name.”

  She took another pull from the Newport and continued to remain nonchalant about the situation. It was pissing me off.

  “Just leave me alone, Mouse. I’m good,” she replied softly.

  “What?”

  Sammy stood up, took one final pull from her cigarette and flicked it down the hallway. She looked at me, deadpan. I didn’t know what was on her mind.

  “We still gotta do this show at the Manhattan Center next week,” she had the audacity to bring up.

  I didn’t give a fuck about doing
a show right now at some Manhattan Center. I cared about my friend. “Are you serious, Sammy?” I exclaimed.

  “The show don’t stop, it goes on, right? I’m good, Mouse. Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself. It was nothing. I just blown it out of proportion.”

  I glared at my best friend. I seriously wanted to smack some sense into her head. “So you calling me up after midnight, with you crying, and pleading for me to come pick you up from New Jersey is blowing shit out of proportion. Wow. Really? Sammy, what the fuck is wrong wit’ you? This ain’t you!”

  “Mouse, just fuckin’ drop it, a’ight? I’m okay and let’s just do this show next week. That’s all that matters,” she proclaimed.

  I heard enough. She was talking crazy. I retorted, “Fuck you, Sammy! I’m here for you always, and it seems like you don’t trust me or somethin’ to tell me what happened. So fuck you!”

  I stormed off, marching down the stairway. When she didn’t try to call me back, it angered me so much more. I was ready to put my fist through one of these brick walls. I continued to march outside the building. I was so upset that I was feeling sick to my stomach. Suddenly, this nauseated feeling came over me and I hurried to the nearest trashcan and threw up chunks. I started to feel lightheaded and weak. I needed to eat something. Thinking and worrying about this bitch had me ready to pass out.

  I walked farther from Sammy’s building, and being back in my old hood always felt great. I wasn’t rushing to go back to where I rested my head; sometimes, it was just too quiet on Rico’s block, and when he wasn’t around, I would be bored to death. It felt like I was becoming his housewife or somebody. I was cooking for my man, cleaning, and he was always in the pussy or I was sucking his dick like a porn star. I’d been out of the loop for almost two months and I just needed to chill for a moment.

  I figured since I was around the way, I might as well go by my old apartment and pick up the rest of my things. Hopefully, my father wasn’t home or didn’t change the locks. When I got to my building, it was still the same. It hadn’t been that long since I moved out, but this nostalgic feeling came over me. I walked inside and took the elevator to my floor. I had my keys already in my hand and slowly approached my apartment. I put my ear to the door and listened: silence. No music was playing and there was no loud talking. It meant nobody was probably home. I twisted the key and pushed open the door. The shades were drawn and it was dark inside. It smelled, too. The kitchen was a mess, dirty dishes piling up in the sink, trash overflowing in the trashcan, molded food displayed on the messy table with roaches crawling everywhere; it was horrendous. The rest of the apartment wasn’t any better, clothes and trash was everywhere, and remnants of what looked like a large get-together showed.