He had a decision to make. Should he tackle her for the piece before she could get off a shot, or should he run to the adjoining bathroom and grab his piece? With adrenaline fueling his decision, he leaped toward Trice, and Casper sprayed him with bullets before he could get close. As planned, she cleaned the room of all the guns, money, and drugs she could find while Casper did the same. They weren’t sure where Beast had gone. They were under the impression that he was in the other bedroom, mirroring their actions, until they heard their echoes against the house. Once the couple was sure the house had been emptied of everything worth value, they loaded the SUV.
“Where’s Beast?” Trice asked after confirming he wasn’t in the house or their ride.
“I don’t know. He had his pistol on that light-skinned nigga last time I saw him. Check the side of the house, and I’m going to check the garage.”
Trice ran around the house twice and didn’t see anything or anyone.
“He’s in here, baby,” Casper yelled, and she exhaled her anxiety. Now it was time for her to put on the real show. Three made the trip to Pomona, but only two of them would make it back.
Casper felt it was time to retire Beast. He had become self-fulfilling and disrespectful to the couple and the code of the Crips. He’d talked to Trice about killing him and running away with the profits from the lick they had hit, and she’d agreed with her man. When she walked into the garage, she pulled her heat out, and before either man could draw their guns, she shot Casper in his stomach. He hit the floor, clutching his gut in agony. Within seconds blood filled his mouth.
“Did you really think this bitch was more faithful to you than me?” Beast questioned, his words as calm as the weed smoke he exhaled. “You plotted to rob me and take me out, and you thought my bitch would help you do it? Trust no bitch or her nigga, my nigga.”
“Trice baby,” Casper moaned as blood spewed out of his mouth, “he’s playing you. The Pomona Crips are his—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Beast muttered after swiftly kicking Casper in his mouth.
Casper wanted to finish his sentence. Instead, he used the last bit of energy he had to try to scoot away from the dark blob of evil hovering over him. Every inch he gained deleted seconds off the time he had left. His sight began to darken, and seconds before death fully welcomed him, Casper got one last clear picture. It was the picture of the woman he loved and had birthed a child with executing the shot that would take him out.
“Now do you trust me?” she asked with the barrel of the gun still pointing at Casper’s corpse.
“More than I trusted you yesterday,” he said, pulling the vapors of weed deeper into his lungs before passing her the blunt. Once he exhaled, he turned to her and asked, “What do you know about that little Asian bitch Temper who works for K-Mack?”
* * *
Temper didn’t realize how tired she was until she woke up hungry Monday night. Troy stayed by her side until she closed her eyes, and after giving him and Wiggles the gram of dope she’d hidden in the fish sticks box in the refrigerator, she knew he wouldn’t be there when she opened them.
“Damn, stank bitch, I didn’t think you’d ever wake up,” Kei-Kei said, smiling, “How are you feeling with your extra-loud snoring ass?”
Temper didn’t answer her. She had more important things to tend to first, like her pad. Kei-Kei coming to check on her was a sure sign that she hadn’t spoken to Khasema. Nonetheless, with the rotten smell of a Red Lobster chain whose refrigeration system went out coming from in between her legs, she decided to use the time to wash her ass before snapping off on her.
“How did you get in here?” Troy asked. He’d stuck his head in the room to check on Temper. Instead of seeing her, he saw small blood stains on her sheets and Kei-Kei rolling a joint at the foot of her bed.
“Through the front door. How else do you think I got in, nigga?”
“I know that, dumbass. I’m trying to let you know, big stupid, that Temper ain’t here. You got to come back another time,” Troy said, grabbing Kei-Kei by the fatty meat on her arm.
“Don’t touch me, smoker. She is here with your lying ass. She went to the bathroom and then grabbed her things to get in the shower.”
“Oh, so y’all are good again?”
“Why wouldn’t we be? You need to stay off that shit. It’s eating at what little brain you have left. Wait, don’t you owe me two dollars?”
Before Troy could say another word, the swing of a golf club had cut across his peripheral vision, and Temper had connected it to Kei-Kei’s shoulder. The weed hit the floor as Kei-Kei screamed out in horror.
“You thought I wouldn’t find out that you were fucking Khasema?” Temper yelled with the same vacant look she’d had in her eyes after giving birth. Where pain should have been, there was nothing except anger.
“Hold up, Temper. You got me too fucked up,” Kei-Kei said, using Troy to shield her from another swing of the club. “How are you going to take the word of the streets over me?”
“Bitch, stop lying. He told me, ho. Smiling in my face and fucking my trick behind my back. You’re a dead bitch.”
Temper advanced on her, and her uncle extended his arm to hold her back.
“Stop, Tee. I can’t let you beat this girl down with that club. You’re better than this shit here.”
“He’s lying. I swear he is, and when he gets out, I’m going to have his ass fucked up. I put that shit on my mama. I ain’t never fucked his grimy ass.”
Kei-Kei couldn’t get the lies out of her mouth fast enough, and Temper’s face said she didn’t believe them. Her neighbor, Tiny, used to push weight for Khasema and let Kei-Kei put money on her phone to accept his collect calls. As of late, Tiny was going through her own jail shit with her baby daddy, and she was never home. It had been weeks since she had heard Khasema’s voice. They wrote to each other every day, though. Kei’Lani was catching feelings for him in a big way, and seeing that she was the only person with freedom who was writing him consistently, he shared those feelings.
It wasn’t her goal to stab Temper in her back. Kei’Lani asked her all the time about their relationship, and Temper assured her that there wasn’t “shit between them.” If she had known it was a lie and there was a baby on the way, she would have cut off the pussy before it got this serious. She was invested now and didn’t know what to do with the love she had for her blood sister’s baby daddy. Her only sister of any sort had just given birth to a baby by the first man she’d ever loved. She was sure their situation would make them prime guests on The Jerry Springer Show. After going back and forth with Temper, she broke down and told the truth, albeit only half.
“Y’all were beefing when I strolled up to buy a sack from that nigga, and he wanted to smoke, sip, and talk about you. You know how I get off that gin and juice. He took advantage of it. He ate my pussy or whatever. I promise you that was all. I haven’t even talked to that nigga since.”
“So you gon’ sit here and tell me you’re not writing him?” Temper said, lowering the club.
“Hell nah. You know my mama wouldn’t let me get any letters from a nigga in jail without opening and reading them first. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, damn. When you told me that you were in labor with his baby, I knew I had to put you up on that small shit. I wanted to make sure you were good first. Ain’t nothing or no one more important to me than you.”
“Fuck you, bitch. You should’ve told me. It’s not like the nigga was mine anyways. I thought we were better than that shit.” Temper’s voice was back to its normal tone, and the anger had left her face.
“We are better than that. Ain’t no nigga coming between us, ever. You know I don’t rock like that.”
Troy put his arms down and slowly moved from between the girls. Did fat ass just say Temper was in labor? Then all that blood is from her having a baby, but where’s the baby? He decided now wasn’t the time to ask.
“Y’all good?” he spoke up, ready to terminate his position a
s the middleman in the club fight.
“Yeah, Unc, we’re good. We just need to talk this shit out. My bad, Kei-Kei. I should have known that nigga was lying. He’s a bitch, and that’s what bitch-ass niggas do.”
“It’s all good. He’s just locked up, stressing. That second strike they gave him was a wakeup call. Mr. Untouchable did all that hustling in the streets and can’t deal with the charge. Girl, fuck him. He’s missing the outside world and trying to stir up shit out here to keep himself relevant in the hood.”
As Temper placed the club down on her dresser, Troy made his way out of the room. He got in his favorite position at the door and eavesdropped for a minute or two to gather more information. Once he confirmed that Temper did have a baby, he watched television with his mama, feeling heartbroken.
“So how are you feeling? I saw the blood on your covers.”
“I’m straight, just bleeding heavy as fuck. It’s like having a year’s worth of periods all at once, and that shit funky,” Temper said, locking her door.
“I still don’t believe I didn’t know you were pregnant. We’re together all day every day, and I couldn’t tell. So what did you decide to do with my nephew?” Kei-Kei asked on her knees, trying to salvage as much weed as she could out of the brown carpet.
“I already told you what was up. Stop calling the bastard your nephew. What you need to be talking about is what the fuck we’re doing for my seventeenth birthday. I’m trying to get so fucked up that I don’t even remember it.”
“I heard that shit. Are we staying in the hood, or should I call up them white bitches I go to school with? You know those hoes stay with that good green, and their parents don’t ever be home.”
“Hell yeah, call those bitches up and tell them to re-up.” Temper laughed as she pulled a packed suitcase out of her closet. She’d packed it months earlier when she planned on leaving before giving birth, except her money said otherwise. What she had in her pocket would only allow her to get as far as San Bernardino, California, at the time. Now that she had saved up a little over $3,000 and she didn’t have pregnancy holding her down, she could bounce.
“You know I got you. I’m going to make sure your birthday is the shit. My bad about that weak shit with Khasema’s three-ounce-dick-having ass, but on the real, he could eat the hell out of this pussy.” Kei-Kei laughed, and Temper joined in as she removed her birth certificate and social security card from her dresser drawer.
“Man, that nigga ate pussy like he was sucking up the last Oodles of Noodles in the bowl,” Temper said, laughing harder than before.
“Bitch, you ain’t lying. A washrag to the pussy ain’t got shit on the vinegar-and-water moves he busts with his tongue.”
“What was his tongue made from anyways?” Temper laughed, then quoted a line from her favorite movie, Coming to America. “‘What is that, velvet?’”
“Naw, I think that muthafucka was patent leather or made from that same shit they use for the Slip ’N Slide mat. It had a slightly rubbery yet glossed feel.”
“Bitch, you’re dead wrong for that one.” Temper squealed, “Oh, ‘extra baby oil on a condom’ tongue-having ass.”
“He was gargling with Turtle Wax. I bet my next nut on it,” Kei-Kei hollered with tears of laughter forming in her eyes. “His tongue felt like a bowling alley lane after you cross that line, ol’ strike mouth.”
“Damn, I can’t believe they gave the clit whisperer his second strike. Guess it’s a good thing his grown ass used to suck his thumb. Makes it easy to adjust to dick.” She shrugged.
“Them niggas already tried him in there. He was on lockdown for like two weeks for fighting and couldn’t even write me back,” Kei’Lani added as she laughed until her head hurt.
Temper walked into the living room with her bags in one hand and the golf club in the other. After cracking Kei-Kei over her back with it, she went upside her head with it for good measure, leaving the girl knocked out, face down on her bedroom carpet. She was going to hit Kei-Kei before she left the house regardless of what her uncle said. She knew Kei-Kei was dumb and would get caught up in her lie about not writing him just as fast as she told it.
“Let’s go, Unc. I’m ready for my twenty feet.”
Troy saw the club and then shot down the hallway to Temper’s room as she made her way to her grandmother.
“I told you I’d be out of your house before I turned eighteen.”
Grandmama Jo believed in raising Temper with tough love, and it would be no different upon her departure.
“You ain’t walked out yet. I’ll believe it when you come back in a year or two to visit me if these cigarettes haven’t sent me to glory first,” she said, lighting another one.
“I’m not coming back, Granny. This is it.”
“That’s good to hear. Well, I guess you can give me a hug goodbye,” she said as Troy walked back into the room with his jaw open from finding Kei-Kei out as though she hadn’t been to sleep in months.
They hugged tightly, and Grandmama Jo let go after planting a kiss on her granddaughter’s forehead.
“It’s not going to hurt you to write every now and then to let us know you’re okay. You’re turning seventeen, not eighteen, but I think you can handle yourself. I’ll tell you one thing, though, if you fuck up before eighteen, I’m telling the law your ass ran away. Oh, and if you run across a stack of money, don’t forget about my trips to the casino. Go on and go. You’re making me miss the news.”
Temper smiled when she saw the tear fall from her grandmother’s “good eye,” as she jokingly called it, and walked out the door with Troy on her tail.
“You got your ID, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah, I do, but didn’t I tell you not to hit that girl with that club? She’s in there snoring and shaking on the floor. You know her mama is going to have a fit over this shit, and if I have to give her the dick to calm her down, it’s gon’ cost you.”
“Fuck her and her mama. That bitch will live.”
The cab pulled up with perfect timing, and Troy got in without asking any questions.
“Take us to the Greyhound station and keep the meter running. He’ll need a ride back here.”
Troy didn’t question her. He had a more important question he needed to ask. “Where’s the baby, Tee? Is it a boy or a girl, and why isn’t it with you?”
“What baby? If there were a baby, he would be leaving with me and not at home being raised by his daddy’s mother.” She left the twisted lie at that.
“No good can come of this, Temper Taz.”
“You might be right, Unc, but you never said getting those twenty feet would be easy, nor that I would like what it takes to get them. Whatever happens from here, I already chalked it up as collateral damage. My life can’t get any worse than what it is,” she stated with a shrug.
“As long as you know to expect shit, I don’t have shit else to say.”
* * *
“Where are you getting this ticket to?” he asked when they stepped inside the bus station.
“One one-way ticket to Las Vegas, please.”
Temper smiled at him while she handed her information to the desk agent who listed Troy as one of her legal guardians, and Troy gave the lady his ID.
“The next one leaves in forty-five minutes. It’s the last one going there tonight. If that’s too soon, there’s one that leaves at—”
“That’s perfect,” Temper interrupted, handing her the money and giving Troy the hundred-dollar bill she had gotten from her grandmother. “That’s for the cab ride home, and you can keep the change.”
“Why Vegas?” he asked, pocketing the money.
“It’s the fastest place to get out of California so I can get ghost.”
The agent handed her the ticket before Troy said another word.
“Well, you might want to stay in the restroom until your bus arrives, because I’m keeping this money. Hell, I can walk home from here, but that cab driver will be coming inside look
ing for us.”
Temper laughed as she nodded her head in agreement. “You’re never going to change.”
“Nope. I’m fine as is, but I hope you do.” He kissed her on the cheek, grabbed a bag sitting unmanned by the counter, and made his way out of the building through the emergency exit.
Chapter Five
Temper didn’t know where her final destination would be, yet she was sure she wouldn’t get there by Greyhound. She wasn’t 18, which meant buying another bus ticket wasn’t an option. She didn’t know anyone in Vegas, and truth be told, her immaturity and lack of education made her choose it. She couldn’t think of anywhere else to go and hadn’t researched other cities. Vegas was where all her big homies went to move their work, pimp the bitches who were foolish enough to believe that they were selling their ass for love, and to have fun. Temper didn’t have to research Vegas. From what she’d heard, it was precisely where she needed to be.
The usual four-hour ride was six thanks to the unnecessary stops the bus made on the way. She wasn’t in a rush to get there. The rocky bus ride made her body ache, and the bathroom wasn’t fit for her to freshen up with the heavy bleeding she was doing.
When she arrived in Las Vegas, the first thing she noticed was that the bus station mirrored the one in Los Angeles. It was covered in bums and beggars too. The loiterers weren’t begging for bus tickets. They were there to beg for money from those traveling to Sin City to gamble. She was approached by one before she could grab her bag.
“I’ll tote those bags for you if you want,” a voice said over her shoulder.
“I’m good.”
“Can I have a dollar then? I’m hungry.”
“You can’t have shit, and you can get the fuck away from me before I beat yo’ ass,” Temper said louder than she usually spoke, and brought everyone’s eyes to her situation.
“Leave the young girl alone, vato, before I help her kick your begging ass,” a Mexican accent said from behind her as the shadow of a woman began to cover the light Temper was using to get her bags.
“Get your bags, chola. I got you.”
Carl Weber's Kingpins Page 7
