“So I don’t want this to be over?” Swoopes countered. “You not the best of company yourself, Tootsie. Don’t get it twisted, bitch, the moment this is done, I’m out.”
“I hear you,” she smirked, “But it seems to me that you more interested in Bricks than completing this mission.”
Bricks stepped forward at the mention of his name. “Don’t get hurt, Yvonna.” When he stood up he noticed his side was sore, so he gripped it and pushed past Swoopes, knocking him a few inches forward. “You knew me and this bamma was gonna be at war when you signed him up.” He mugged him. “That’s why I’m still trying to figure out why he’s here.”
“I know you betta watch where the fuck you going, slim!” Swoopes growled although he avoided charging him. Besides, he was still winded from their recent battle outside. He would wait until he rested up later. “This nigga stay wit’ my name in his mouth man.”
Ignoring him Bricks asked Yvonna, “Who the fuck is Ebony?” He rubbed his side harder and hoped his ribs weren’t fractured. “I heard you say her name when I was walking inside.”
She rolled her eyes at him and said, “She use to live with us at the orphanage.” She turned back to the portrait. “Before now, I thought she was dead. Now I’m finding out she shacked up with this nigga. After everything we been through.”
Ming walked up to the picture and stood in front of all of them, just to be the center of attention. She wasn’t as banged up as she wanted from the fight and Yvonna shook her head. Over the weeks, Ming had proven to be a little thirstier than Yvonna originally thought and she didn’t understand why. It was like she was constantly looking for something from them, but especially Swoopes. “So he took her when she was a child? To have for himself?” She stared at Ebony’s face which in her opinion, looked sad. “To make wife?”
Yvonna was about to respond when a stinging sensation coursed through the fleshy part of her ass. “What the fuck!” She jumped around, and rubbed the area repeatedly, hoping the pain would subside. “Who just stabbed me?”
When she turned around, Ebony was aiming a BB gun in their direction. She was about to shoot again when everyone rushed her. She didn’t go down easily and they hadn’t expected her to be so strong. It was Ming who was successful in knocking her to the floor, while Swoopes and Bricks disarmed her. When the situation was under control, Yvonna approached in attack mode.
With a murderous mien she inched toward her prey. Looking down at her she stated, “You must wanna die, bitch!”
“I want to know what the fuck you doing in my house?” Ebony combated, from the floor, although she was outnumbered. Her long brown hair was spread out on the floor and one of her fake eyelashes rested on the bridge of her nose. She was disheveled but still extremely attractive. It was apparent to all that she was being taken care of. “And what have you done to my husband?”
RUFUS DAY
Rufus Day, the worlds nastiest pedophile and pimp, stood his six foot seven inch frame slyly over his pulpit. He hovered slowly, as he lustfully searched the congregation for his prey. He just finished ministering to his flock and they waited desperately for his next word. To the weak he was God, to the strong he was the devil reincarnated.
Their cheers and praises rang in the background and he adored every minute of it. Although they needed the final word of the day, before going back to their miserable lives, he needed the perfect little girl to add to his stable. His droopy eyes, which always leaked due to conjunctivitis, scanned over several hopeful candidates again. Although he was an unattractive black man, in their eyes, he was as handsome as John F. Kennedy. His flowery words, power and expensive taste in clothing, did an outstanding job of concealing his immorality.
It didn’t take him long to find the one. Her long black pigtails hung down her back, and were dressed at the ends with two pink ribbons. Her brown skin was light enough to show her naturally rosy cheeks, as she hid into her mother’s shadow, texting on her phone. She seemed preoccupied and troubled, the combination needed for him to enact his scheme. She had to be twelve, just the age to start a career in the sex industry. So sweet. So perfect.
Once he spotted the perfect schlemiel, he imagined how her young body would look naked. With a wicked vision in mind, he flipped a few pages in his bible, mainly for affect with his gold ring covered fingers. He already had his marker on the page he needed to deliver his final message, but he was nothing without a performance. Raising his manicured hand, he weakly said, “Settle down.” When the congregation didn’t simmer, he raised his voice just a tad, “I love you too, but please, settle down.”
When they were silent he vocalized, “Before you go home, I want to read you an important scripture.” He stuck his index finger, which blinged with clear nail polish, on his pink tongue, before flipping a few more pages and stopping. “If we can turn to First Thessalonians, chapter five, versus twelve to thirteen.” The sound of flapping paper filled the sanctuary before fading away. “This passage shows how you,” he waved his hand, “the members of AFCOG should treat your pastor.” He pointed to himself. “Now, I all know you want to treat your pastor properly. Am I right.”
The church sang, “Yes!”
“I know you do,” he grinned. Bowing his head toward the bible he begin, “The passage reads, ‘But we request of you brethren, that you appreciate those who diligently labor amongst you and have charge over you in the Lord and give you instruction.’ He looked at his victim and her mother to be sure they were paying attention. They were. “Let the church say, Amen.”
“Amen!”
When he was done, he closed the bible. “What that means is this, I am your Leader. I am your Master, and if you don’t trust me and my words, I can’t lead you to the Promise Land.” He looked at everyone before his eyes settled back on the child. “Do you hear what I’m saying?” They nodded. “As much as I would like to, I can’t walk with you to meet the Lord thy God, unless you trust in your Master. As a matter of fact, you have to trust me above all things, even above the man known as Jesus Christ.” He knew his request was heavy, but he mind fucked them so long, that he was sure they were ready to surrender. “Ya’ll not ready for what I’m saying.”
“Yes we are!” They cheered.
“I hear you, but I need for you to make it clearer.” Staring at them with penetrating eyes he continued, “So I ask you again, will you follow me?”
There was brief silence before they said, “Yes!” Their palms faced him as if they needed to feel him. Needed to be near him. Needed to smell him. “We will follow you!”
“I said, will you follow me?”
“Yes!” The church erupted in thunder.
“Then get on your knees and bow your heads.” At first they looked at each other, in confusion. But when the first person dropped, no one wanted to be the last one standing. In less than two minutes, everyone was on their knees...the choir included. He succeeded what most pimps would give their lives for, the creation of a clan.
Smiling slyly, Rufus stepped down and walked toward the middle of the church, touching members on their heads softly as he passed them by. “I am your master, and I will never lead you astray.” People wept because they believed he was as close to Jesus, as any of them would ever see in their lifetime. When his ego was fully fed, he said, “You may rise.”
Then he made his way to Marge David, the unemployed black waitress and her twelve-year-old little girl that he’d been eyeing all morning. Marge was so star struck as he moved toward her, that she could’ve sworn he had the power to take the breath from her body. The other women looked on in envy at the attention he was preparing to give the new member.
“Sister Marge, right?” His clammy hands reached out for her warm ones. When he had them in his clasps, he held onto them tightly. “What a pleasure.”
Marge unconsciously teased the brown wig she wore with her fingers, which looked like it fell off of one of the Supremes’ heads. “Reverend, I can’t believe you know my name.” She blushe
d. “I feel so special.”
“You are special. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I received your letter and have chosen Tyisha, for my Get Them On The Right Track program.” Although the word track was hopeful to Marge, in the pimp world it meant the stroll, a place where young girls and sometimes boys, sold their bodies for profit.
Marge submitted a letter to him a few weeks ago, after she learned about the program from a friend on the street. All they knew was that Rufus awarded prize money to single mothers, to help them get on their feet, and honestly, that was all she cared about. “The competition was thick, Marge, but my decision is made.” He softly touched the top of the child’s head. “Congratulations.”
Marge’s eyes widened as if she was just accepted to Yale, while Tyisha stared at him with suspicious eyes. “Say thank you, Tyisha!”
“Thanks.” She responded flicking the buttons on her phone again. She was uninterested in anything that didn’t have to do with boys. “I ‘ppreciate it. I guess.”
“I know you do, child.” He eyed her again and licked his lips. “And you’ll be perfect. Of course she’ll have to spend the entire summer at my home. In order for it to work I have to be with her most hours of the day.” He softly touched her head again and she pulled back. She hated the man already but he wasn’t phased. “There she’ll learn the bible fully, along with the fundamentals necessary to be a leader. And because she’s selected, she’ll receive fifteen thousand dollars.” Marge’s eyes widened. “I’ll have my secretary draft a check up right away.” The money was just enough for Marge to get out of debt and back on her feet. She couldn’t believe the amazing opportunity he provided. “I offer the money to single mothers who are having a hard time. I hope you can use it.” If she accepted, he was essentially buying her daughter’s soul and once it belonged to him, he would not let go.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, Marge said, “I can certainly use the money! This is awesome! Praise God!” She raised her hands to the sky again. “Praise his name!”
He gently tugged her chin and looked into her eyes. “Don’t praise God, Sister Marge. Praise me.”
BILAL Jr.
The small bedroom was pitch dark as Bilal Jr., pretended like he didn’t hear his older brother Laser, fucking the dog shit out of his girlfriend Owl, on the bottom bunk. He faked sleep on the floor to hide his cowardice. He would kill himself before he let either of them know that he was weakened by his brother’s indiscretions. Besides, Owl, who earned her name because of her smooth dark skin and wide eyes, was a freak. He knew it the day he stepped to her at the corner store.
“Turn over,” Laser whispered to Owl in the darkness. “I wanna hit that back hole for a minute. You know how I like it.” They had been fucking nonstop since Bilal, Jr. met her six months earlier.
“No, that shit hurts.” She responded coyly. “Anyway, what’s wrong with my pussy? I want to get mine off too.”
“Your cave is lovely, ma. I been told you that. But I wanna do something a little different tonight. So stop fucking around and turn over.”
“Shhh, you talking too loud, Bilal. gonna hear you.” She giggled, as she rustled with the covers. Bilal, Jr. widened the slits in his eyes to see if she complied. Because of the murkiness of the room, all he could see was the white sheet shuffling and bodies moving beneath them. “You never were good at keeping your voice on the low. Wit’ your loud ass.”
Laser was growing impatient with Owl. Although she was good for a decent nut, she played too many games before he got what he wanted. “Shut up, bitch. That lil nigga know I’m fucking you already. Stop tripping.”
Prior to that moment, Bilal, Jr. assumed that Laser believed he was sleep whenever she’d sneak over the house late at night. Now he felt like a gump, who was too afraid to fight back. But when it came to his twin brothers, particularly Laser, he felt inferior. They were bigger than him and in his opinion that made them stronger.
“No he don’t, Laser. You always lying and shit.” Owl’s voice was heavy with embarrassment. It was cool to play the freak when she thought it was behind Bilal, Jr.’s back. Now she wondered if her actions were being made public without her authorization. Perhaps they were videotaping her freak-whore ass. And if that was the case, she had to perform properly for the cameras, by denying that she was loose. “If he knew I was here, how come he ain’t say nothing?”
“Cause he’s a fragile lil ass nigga at best. That’s why. Plus he know if he say something out the way to me, I’ma turn his teeth to sand,” he chuckled, “now grab them ankles, so I can bust right quick. I’m almost there.” Owl was suddenly aggravated and the springs on the bed screeched loudly, indicating that she’d gotten up and off the bunk.
“I’m leaving. You gotta get somebody else to be a freak with.” Her feet slapped against the wooden floor. “My mamma ain’t raise no fool. I know what’s happening in here.”
Whatever, bitch. He thought. Irritated he said, “You know I don’t game, Owl. Especially when I’m trying to fuck.”
“Well that’s what you trying to do to me now, run game.” Her statement seemed all over the place. She thought she was his little secret, like he told her all the time. “Trying to smut me out in the family!”
“You the one creeping over here in the middle of the night. Don’t try to act like you don’t know what it is.” Laser spit. “You ain’t nothing but a wet hole, you got me fucked up.”
“Like I said, I’m gone! Ya’ll not ‘bout to tell everybody I put out to both of ya’ll.”
“Bitch, you not going nowhere!” Laser’s feet shuffled against the floor and because it was dark, he accidently stepped on Bilal, Jr.’s forearm because he couldn’t see him, nor did he care. Although it was certainly obvious that Bilal, Jr. was awake now, he remained as still as a corpse in a grave. “You not gonna come up in here and play games with my dick like that.” He forcefully grabbed her arm and she could’ve sworn he was preparing to rip it out of the socket. She heard that Laser was one visit away from being confined to a mental institution, but now she had living proof.
“Nigga, fuck off!” She pushed him to the floor and opened the door. A blast of light from the living room, spilled into the space, as she stormed out wearing only her panties. Her sweaty ass cheeks moved up and down in pursuit of the front door. Not bothering to get dressed, her clothes were balled up and stuffed securely in the pit of her underarm. She lived a few houses down the block but the real kicker was that it was cold as hell outside, but at the moment, loose booty didn’t give a fuck. She wanted out. “Red niggas trying to play me.”
“Make sure you lock that door, girl.” Easter, one of Bilal, Jr.’s aunts screamed at Owl. “I’m tired of your little whore ass running in and out of here fucking my nephews anyway.” Owl slammed the door and her feet trekking over the snow-covered grass could be heard outside, before finally fading into the night. “Don’t let that bitch back in here!” Easter continued. “I don’t trust that young girl.”
Treyana, who was Laser and Uzi’s mother, had six brothers and sisters. Their names were Gabe, Hall, Easter, Tabitha, Tahir and Oakes. They were the epitome of everything wrong with the hood. In fact, they were so over the top, that if you took the first letter of their names in that order and put them together, it would spell GHETTO. Before she died by the hands of Yvonna Harris, Treyana was just as unruly.
When Treyana was murdered by Yvonna, Laser and his twin brother Uzi were placed in foster care. Originally the government wanted to place them with family, but when the six of them showed up for court wearing ‘RIP Treyana’ t-shirts, with the words ‘FUCK THE POLICE’ on the back in red, the courts decided they would be better off in the system.
Laser and Uziya aka Uzi lasted all of three years in foster care. The first year they did well, all things considered. Even though they lost their mother and Avante, who they believed was their father, they made a way. Everything changed when one day after returning home from school, they were met by their social worker. In no unc
ertain terms she told them that because of their natural good looks, their foster father was growing uncomfortable with having them in his home and around his lovely wife.
Laser and Uzi were growing into young men so attractive, that an insecure man would rather have them executed by hanging, than to have them anywhere near his spouse. Although the social worker pissed Uzi off with the news, he knew where his foster father was coming from. He saw how Denise, their foster mother, gazed at Laser as he played handyman around the house. The twin brothers spent no less than two hours a day in the gym, and they both were physically fit and sexually active. If their foster father did anything but get rid of them, without a doubt, Laser would be fucking the shit out of the man’s wife by the end of the year.
The second and third foster homes were murder on their spirits as well. They constantly fought to prove that just because their hair was curly, it didn’t mean their dicks didn’t get hard, or that they wouldn’t defend themselves and each other. Before long, no foster family wanted them around, no matter how much the checks were. So the twins decided that it was time to find their aunts and uncles, and that’s exactly what they did. Although the four bedroom home in Washington DC couldn’t comfortably fit them all, they’d made it work and had been living with them ever since.
When Owl stormed out of the house, Laser flicked the light switch on and stood over Bilal, Jr. His toes were inches from his nose and he let them remain to taunt him. Although the light’s glow peeked through Bilal, Jr.’s eyelids, his body remained in the fetal position, as if he were still sleep. He didn’t want to face Laser because he didn’t know what to say. Not only was Laser fucking his girl consistently, he could care less about his feelings.
When Bilal, Jr. continued to play possum, Laser tapped him softly on the nose with his big toe. “Get up, nigga. I know your bitch ass up.” Out of both of the brothers, Laser was the evil one. There always seemed to be something dark moving him, and guiding his actions. When Bilal, Jr. didn’t budge Laser stomped on his face hard. His wet lips smeared across the bottom of his foot. “Lil nigga, I said stop faking and wake your bitch ass up! I saw you move when that bitch bounced.” He stood over his body preparing to crack his jaw, if he didn’t stand up within fifteen seconds.
Shyt List 5: Smokin' Crazies The Finale' (The Cartel Publications Presents) Page 2
