“I’m telling you, Dee. Kim already blew my high, letting that piece of info slip. I’m a get at the nigga and find out, yo.”
“Find out what, Coco?”
“If he had AIDS before he got with madukes. If so, then he murdered Madukes. It’s as simple as that, yo.”
“What you’re saying, Coco…?”
“I’m sayin that nigga doesn’t deserve to live any longer than madukes, yo. Madukes goes—Dontay goes.”
“You’re definitely right. He must be stopped or he could infect the whole neighborhood.”
“You feeling me, yo?”
“Yes, but we must make sure, Coco,” Deedee said. “You already know it’s no good killing the wrong man. We need to make sure. But how do we do that?”
“That’s real simple, Dee. In the hood, all you have to do is hang out in front of the building and you can find out everything about everyone coming and going in the building.”
“So we’re gonna be hanging out in the front of your building, Coco?”
“Not we… I am gonna hangout in front of my building, yo.”
“But Coco, what if someone—”
“Dee, chill yo. Those people out front of the building are bitches, ho’s, and niggas and they ain’t gonna say nada to you ’bout nothing. They gotta know you and or respect you, yo.”
“And you’re saying they wouldn’t talk to me. They all try to kick it to me, Coco.”
“True, but you gotta understand. Niggas just trying to get up in your dress… Ho’s they just like how fly you dress. And bitches hate but deal with you cuz they know you got status, yo.”
“Status? What’s that and how they know that?”
“By the way you dress, yo,” Coco deadpanned.
“Uh-huh, Coco—are you saying I’m dressing whorish?”
“No Dee, don’t be silly. I’m saying that the people in front of the building judge me and you on different standards. I’m Coco from the hood. You’re Deedee, niece of Eric Ascot… Long money,” Coco said, extending both her arms.
“All that money you’re talking about I don’t see. I have to start taking care of lil’ Dee from the hood,” Deedee laughed, patting her stomach. “All that money might not be there for Lil’ Dee from da hood, she may have to go rap and dance or sing with Aunt Coco,” Deedee laughed.
“I swear you’re the illest, yo,” Coco said, joining the laughter.
16
“Dontay, open up its Kim, I wanna talk to you,” Kim repeated. “Open the door. Someone told me you’re home. She just spoke to you a second ago. I asked her to call you. So don’t front, my nigga. Open up the door now!” Kim shouted.
She banged couple more times and rang the doorbell. There was no response. Kim moved closer, putting her ear to the door. She could hear the rustling from behind the door.
“Shyt, if you don’t open the door right now I’m gonna blow your spot up and you…” Kim lowered her voice when she heard the door being opened.
“Kim, I wasn’t expecting you. I thought Tina was with you?”
“No, she ain’t. I asked her to call you and tell you that we were together, my nigga,” Kim said.
Dontay swallowed hard when he was greeted by Kim’s cold, scrutinizing stare. He was trying to crawl away with a bag of excuses. Kim sensed his weakness and slammed the door after him.
“Let me get straight to the point, Dontay,” Kim said, sniffing around the apartment.
She walked around looking here and there. Searching, she opened a closet door, and peeked in the bedroom while Dontay stood in fear watching her. He stood in the middle of the tiny living room, and trembled while Kim circled him. She glanced around the apartment before swooping down on him. The salvo was something awful.
“What da fuck you did with all the shyt you took outta Tina’s place?”
“I don’t know what you talkin’ ’bout!”
“Listen, you piece-a-shit-sick-ass-disease-carrying crack-head, I don’t have time to waste!”
“I swear, I don’t know what you talkin’ ’bout!”
“Do not fuck around with me bitch-ass nigga. You know how I can spread a rumor—all I gotta do is tell the right people and everyone in the city will know you have the monster. Don’t tempt me, Dontay!”
Eagle to a prey she ripped into his chest and dug out his heart. Her sharp talons pulled out her cell phone, a symbol of communication to the world and started dialing.
“Shyt, I got some news for you, girl. Know that nigga that be walkin’ round the hood, calling himself ‘pimpin’’? Hmm-hmm… Yeah him he got the—”
“It was Tina’s idea,” Dontay said.
Kim’s conversation came to an abrupt pause. She slowly looked Dontay up and down from his fake alligator shoes to his hairdo. She noticed for the first time that his curls never quite curled. Dontay was rocking a badly done perm and Kim let him know.
“You fuckin’ bad-hair-having nigga naps-for-curls! How da fuck you gonna bring my girl in this convo like that…? Shyt, this between me and you my nigga, don’t even try to bring Tina’s name up. Shyt, me and her went out that night, my nigga!”
“Put the cell phone down, please. I’ll tell you,” Dontay pleaded.
“I’m a call you back, Mommy. This gon’ take a minute,” Kim said, ending the call.
She eyed Dontay with fury. With shaky hands, he was reaching to get a cigarette. He groped to retrieve the pack and a book of matches at the same time. Kim shook her head as he put the cigarette to his mouth and lit it.
“Fucking loser, you best be tellin’ da truth…” she said and her voice trailed when she heard him speaking.
“I know that. I know y’all went out together. She called me and told me to go check if her was window open. And then told me to take all the bags, she was gonna return them to the store or sump’n. She ain’t told me that your bags were there, too.”
“Really nigga, and what about my money that was in one of the bags and shyt?”
“What money? I ain’t touch no money. I gave her back the bags the next evening!”
This revelation left Kim speechless. She blinked rapidly several times, trying to digest the information. She processed the facts slowly while Dontay smoked.
“You sayin’ Tina came and took all the bags and that was it?”
“Yes, that was it. She hit me with a lil’ dough and I swear that was it, Kim.”
She stared at Dontay with a menacing look. There was evil in her eyes and he shuddered in fear, but Kim was deep in thoughts. She glanced at him, looking him up and down. Then Kim turned to walk away. She looked back with a smirk when she heard Dontay.
“Kim, please. I’m a pimp under pressure, there’s a monster on my back. I don’t wanna take my life, but if you get on your horn, and start talkin’ then that shit be all over the place. I don’t want that stinkness following me around,” Dontay pleaded.
“I could care less, my nigga. Ain’t karma a bitch…? A pimp with AIDS… Life’s a bitch and then you die.”
“I’m still tryin’ to live like Magic, and die respectable is what I’m sayin’, Kim. Please don’t blow up my spot,” Dontay said, sucking nervously on the cigarette.
“You know, Dontay, when I was a teenager, I really thought I loved you. Remember those times, back in the days when you used to roll up in your big phat whips? Oh man, you used to make me wet. I ain’t mad atcha, my nigga. If what you’re sayin’ is true then you ain’t got shyt to worry ’bout.”
“Kim, Kim I remember, back in the days I was big time. Now I’m trying to repeat it. I’m a be on top again, Kim. It’s my body that’s got the monster in it, not my mind,” Dontay said, pointing to his dome.
Kim took a couple steps back, and quizzically stared at Dontay. She was summing him up. He appeared physically alright. A lot of women may find him handsome, she thought. But she knew he carried a deadly virus. Kim continued to listen to the excitement building in Dontay.
“They got drugs for all that. Look at Magic Joh
nson, Number thirty-two—that’s me. I’m starting with this… My modeling biz about to jump off, Kim, I’m also doing camera work, videos and so on,” he said, winking lecherously at her. “Kim, you got all the right assets to be my bottom… I mean my top model, and you’ll get prime spots in videos and—”
“Nigga, I’m good. I just came here to find out that shyt with Tina’s. So I just want you to know that you can drop me from your list of candidates, my nigga.”
“A’ight then, Kim. I respect that.”
“Do your shyt just don’t include me in it.”
“But you should check your girlfriend real good. She might be trying to do you wrong. Check the facts and you’ll see,” Dontay said, exhaling smoke with a sigh of relief.
“Yes, I’ll do that. Like I said, if you’re tellin’ da truth then pimp on, my nigga. But I find out your ass up to no good, then its gon be ho’s up, and pimp’s down, my nigga. Believe that!”
With a swish of her ass, Kim walked past a stunned Dontay. Pulling out her cell phone, she was out the door, and down the hallway. She got on the elevator, thinking about what Dontay had told her. She dialed on her cell phone, no service. Kim’s hectic mind couldn’t rest until she called Tina. She had her on speed dial and hit the button as soon as she got off the elevator. Kim listened intently as her call went straight to voicemail.
She walked out to the corner and waved her arm to hail a cab. Three gypsy cabbies immediately responded. Kim jumped into the first one. A couple of minutes later, the taxi rolled to a stop outside Tina’s building. After paying the driver, Kim jumped out and ran inside the building. Kim pulled out her keys, and fidgeted with them to find the spare keys to Tina’s apartment. Kim walked quickly to the lobby, and got in the elevator.
Soon after, Kim was standing outside Tina’s apartment door. She tinkered with the keys, trying to figure the right one. Kim tried to open the door, but couldn’t figure out the right combination of keys.
“I’m gonna wait right here or wake this bitch outta bed,” she sighed ringing the doorbell in frustration.
There was rustling behind the door and she heard Tina’s voice. Kim impatiently waited with hands on her hips, while tapping her heels.
“Who…?”
“It’s Kim, bitch!”
The door opened and Kim barged in past a surprised Tina. She walked down a short hallway to the living room and saw Flack pulling on his clothes. Tina, clad in a housecoat, was walking behind her.
“We gotta talk, bitch!” Kim said.
“It wasn’t what I planned, but—” Flack started chatting nervously, but Kim waved her arm, cutting him off.
“Shyt, I don’t give a fuck about your bitch ass!”
“I ain’t seen no tags on him, ho,” Tina said.
“I never meant to hurt—” Flack started again, but was rudely by Kim.
“Shyt nigga, please!”
“As you can see he just had to skin my kitty cat alive,” Tina said, letting her housecoat slip just enough for Kim to see her nudity beneath. “He ate the shit outta my pussy,” she laughed, looking at Flack.
He slipped into his pants, and seemed to relax when he saw that Kim was not yelling at him. Maybe she wasn’t mad at him. Maybe he could have them both. Tina was standing practically naked, and Kim sat down on the sofa. She was looking around at the empty liquor bottles, and clipped blunt in the ashtray when she felt Flack sitting next to her. He reached over, trying to hug her.
“Shyt, if you ever touch me—they be calling you numb nubs, okay?” Kim said in her nastiest tone.
“You better leave her alone, Flack. That ho’ mad as hell. And ain’t no calming down a mad ho’,” Tina laughed, lighting a cigarette. “Why you so mad, ho’? Duh, he wanted this pussy more than yours. You know that’s how niggas are. They always want to have the best pussy, ho.”
“Look, I don’t give a shyt about this fucking bitch-ass nigga! I just wanna know why you fuckin’ tried to play me, bitch?”
“You mean Flack? You said you fuckin’ with Eric Ascot. How many fuckin’ men you want for yourself, ho?”
“I’m really not talking ’bout this piece a shit of a nigga!” Kim said, her tone getting harsher. “Who gives a fuck about what he do… This’ between me, you, and Dontay, bitch!”
“Y’all ain’t gotta notice that I’m here while y’all busy arguing about some other nigga and all,” Flack said.
Kim and Tina both stared at the shirtless man with contempt. Then they looked at each other, and shook their heads simultaneously.
“Shyt, get da fuck outta here. Bird-ass nigga!”
“Who you think you talkin’ to like that, bitch? This ain’t your crib!” Flack said to Kim.
“It’s mine. And nigga, you ain’t gon’ be up here callin’ my girl a bitch. So muthafucka you gotta get da fuck up outta here right now!” Tina said, signaling with her thumb conspicuously in the air like an irate baseball umpire throwing out an anguished batter. “Fuck that, nigga!”
Flack jumped up, and put on his shirt. He quickly fixed his clothes. Then without saying anything, he angrily stomped out the door. Kim and Tina kept their eyes on him, waiting for him to leave. Flack stared at them for a beat then he left, slamming the door. Kim and Tina both shook their heads. Then they resumed their conversation.
“So bitch, word has it that you sent Dontay to rob the place, and take all the shyt,” Kim said. “Is that true?”
“Shut da front door, ho! Whose words? Dontay…? He ain’t nothing but a wanna be fake-ass pimp-dying of AIDS.”
“And he also knew that we went to the club and your ass called him and told him to go take the bags outta your place, like you been robbed. Shyt, I can’t believe you tried to play me by going through all that trouble, bitch. If you didn’t want me to have the money—all you had to do was not give me it to me, bitch!”
“All that screaming must make you thirsty. You want a drink, ho?”
“Don’t try to appease me with no drink, bitch. You actually tried to play me. I still can’t get over that, bitch. Of all the dirty schemes you played on other people, I mean you tried to do your girl Kim dirty?”
“Shut your face, bitch! It ain’t even like that,” Tina said.
“Okay, I guess I better roll up a blunt and get comfy for this one. Here comes bull-shyt,” Kim said, undoing the straps on her espadrilles and unbuckling her name belt.
Then Kim stood and shimmied out of her tight jeans. Folding it and laying on a cluttered side table, she poured a drink and sipped. Then she pulled out a bag of weed.
“Shyt! That tasted like piss. Yee-uck! What’s that?” Kim said, making a gas-face.
“It’s Brugal, some type of cheap-ass Dominican rum,” Tina said. “That nigga bought it. I told you ’is ass was cheap.”
“Fuck all that other shyt. He already showed his true colors.”
“I’m just sayin’ that nigga is not the one. He—”
“I’m already onto the next nigga,” Kim said with a smirk.
“You don’t have to get defensive, ho!”
“Trust me, I’m not defensive, bitch. I just wanna hear your explanation of this whole shyt. What you thought you’d accomplish with all this scheming, bitch?” Kim said, pouring a drink from another bottle.
Nodding in delight, she said, “This da shyt.” She continued rolling the blunt while listening to Tina.
“I really wasn’t trying to do anything. I just had to ah… You know? Justify the numbers. Money was going out and nothing coming in, and I, ah figure if I can make some on the money we already spent then you know?”
“But you forgot one thing, rich bitch. Kim is smart. Okay, you remember that,” Kim said, and lit the blunt.
“Shut da front door! It’s how rich people think, ho. I don’t want to ever go back to being a broke-ass bitch from the projects.”
“So you were thinking like a rich bitch, huh?” Kim asked, taking a sip and puffing.
“I gotta make that dough work for us, ho.
And I have to make moves.”
“Let me get this shyt straight. You was gonna use poor ol’ stupid nigga-ass Kim. She ain’t gonna know the difference ’bout shyt. Kim so damn dumb she’ll eat her own name written on a piece of paper, huh? Tell me that was the plan?” Kim said.
“Shut your face! That was not no plan, ho!”
“Damn right it wasn’t cuz that shyt is not gonna work. My mommy didn’t raise no dumb-ass-kids. Maybe my middle brother that’s locked up. But I can read between the lines, bitch,” Kim said, puffing on the blunt.
“And I got us more money, ho,” Tina said.
“Oh really…? You did, huh?”
Tina disregarded Kim’s sarcasm. Under her veneer, Tina’s wily mind was busy at work. She was already thinking of a way to repay Dontay. Kim was her best friend. Neither of them graduated but they went to high school together. From murder to stripping, Tina had done everything illegal and legal to make money. She did all she wanted to do and always felt like the leader. Kim adored her free spirit, but was more conservative. She wanted the money and rewards, without doing the dirty work.
“Only thing is we have to do this one thing,” Tina said, watching Kim licking her dried lips, preparing for another blunt. “You not gonna share?” she asked.
“You already got my nigga what else you want? My blunt…? Nah bitch go roll your own shyt.”
“Shut you face, ho’! My money in that ounce too,” Tina said.
“I ain’t sayin no to that, bitch. I’m saying you gonna have to roll your own shyt!”
“Okay, I remember when… Hold up, hold up,” Tina said, walking away.
Returning in a hot minute later, she carried two bags. She handed Kim the bag filled with money. Kim skeptically gazed at the shopping bag then at Tina.
“Whatcha got in the other bag?” Kim asked and passed Tina the blunt.
“I’ll tell you later, ho’.”
Kim opened it and a wide smile lit up her face. She stuck her hands in the shopping bag and fingered the money stacked in it.
“Hmm, my money,” she hummed.
“I done told you, ho’. We gotta do sump’n for that dough,” Tina said, puffing the blunt and watching Kim.
Ghetto Girls 6 Page 17
