by Styles, T.
“My name is Lesa.” She grinned. “And I’ve heard a few things about you.”
“All good I hope.”
“Nigga, sit the fuck down,” Juice said, unable to take anymore of his antics. “I’m sick of looking at your ass on stage. It’s time to drink and celebrate getting money.” He waved the waitress back over to the table. “Bring two more bottles of Patrón. He looked at the women. “Since I see you ladies are already drinking, did you want something to eat?”
“I can eat,” Farah said.
“Yeah ... get her some of them garlic baked wings, Randy interjected. “And bring out them scallops wrapped in bacon, too.” He took a sip of his drink. “She don’t need nothing else.”
“Damn, nigga! You ain’t even give her a chance to open her mouth,” DeWayne, their other friend, said. He was just as fine as Randy and didn’t fuck with him like that for real, but hung with him for the love of money. “Ma, is that what you want ... or can we get you something else?”
“I’ll eat that. I wasn’t that hungry anyway.”
“See, nigga ... I know my bitch.” He put his arm around her shoulder, and pulled her to him. “We good over here.” He joked, “Get your own.” Juice laid his eyes on Farah a little too long again and Randy caught him. “You need to get some oil for your eyes? ’Cause they keep getting stuck over here.”
Juice raised his glass and didn’t dispute. “My bad.” He wanted Farah to know he was watching. “Your girl like that.” Farah blushed.
She picked her cup up off the table and stirred her drink with her straw. “So where you know Farah from, Randy? Courtney asked.
“Why didn’t you ask me?” Farah said.
’Cause I’m asking him. Why ... your name Randy too?”
“I’ve known her for a minute. We met in the neighborhood,” Randy said, checking his Rolex. Although he was part owner of E.A.T., his true passion was the dope game and he had a meeting with Tornado and Markee in fifteen minutes about their trip to New York.
“Why you ask, beautiful?” His boys shook their heads because he was laying the compliments on too thick. “You know me or something?”
“Nope.” She crossed her legs. “Just asking, because I thought Farah was feeling the nigga Gary we met earlier at her house tonight.” She shrugged. “She was in the room with him so long, I could’ve sworn they were fucking.” Not being able to take anymore, Farah grabbed the bucket off the table, complete with bottles of liquor, and threw it toward Courtney. One of the bottles hit her in the nose, and the other crashed at her feet. “Bitch, I will murder you! Courtney yelled, jumping up and moving in Farah’s direction.
Farah grabbed one of the bottles on the table, held it upside down, and said, “Move one inch closer, and I will punish your ass in here!” She rocked back and forth, waiting for a chance to react. “Go ’head, Courtney! Jump! You been wanting to do it all night anyway.” The men rushed to separate the women and Randy held on to Farah tightly. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Coconut laughing at the situation brewing. It was evident now that she wasn’t having as good of a time as she faked when she first saw her ex-best friend.
“You gonna see me again, bitch!” Courtney said, trying to get back at her, knocking ice cubes out of her hair. “That much I promise.”
“Why put off later what we can do tonight?”
“It’s time to go,” Randy said, gripping Farah tightly. He took the bottle from her hands and put it on the table. He had to admit, the performance turned him on. “You know you can’t be fighting in here and shit. You too classy for all that.”
“She lying on me, Randy. Ain’t no nigga hardly been in my house. I wouldn’t cheat on you like that! That bitch don’t know shit about me.”
“I know, baby. You know better than to cross me.” He positioned her chin so that he could stare into her eyes. “Don’t you?”
“Can y’all drop me off at home?” Lesa interrupted. She was fucked up with Courtney for going too far. Ordinarily she would’ve taken her friend’s side, but tonight she was just plain messy, and all of her shit was in Farah’s house. “I’m tired anyway.”
“We can’t!” Farah shrieked. “I mean, you gotta get a ride from them. I’m going straight to Randy’s.” She couldn’t risk him dropping her off at Platinum and finding out that she lived there too.
“A’ight ... you okay?” Lesa asked her.
“I’m good.”
“You gonna see me again,” Courtney mouthed so that only she could read her lips moving.
“Whenever you ready, bitch. Whenever you ready.”
Chapter 29
“It s cool, the girls about to be out.”
—Slade
When Markee walked into his crib, and saw his four country cousins fucking the dog shit out of five bitches, he was heated. His large body covered the doorway, and he eyed them in disgust. Markee Baker had been jealous of them his entire life. When he was younger, family members could never stop talking about how attractive Della Baker’s sons were, and how any girl able to land herself a Baker should consider herself lucky, because they hardly ever settled down. If he was the subject of conversation, the dialogue would be quite different. Instead of praises they’d talk about how Markee needed to lose weight, and get his body in order. Tired of living in their shadows, he left Mississippi and moved to DC for a better life. Six months after his arrival, he was able to save up enough money to make his way into the drug industry, hoping to prove his family wrong. No matter how much money he stacked, he could never measure up. So when his mother, Irma, called and asked him to make room for his cousins temporarily, he was furious. Not only would he have to hook them up with a key, which he left at the rental office, but he would also have to grant them access while he was out of town.
“I know y’all didn’t disrespect and bring bitches in my crib while I was in New York?” Markee wolfed. He was showing off in front of everybody.
“Sorry about this, man. We were just having a little fun in the new city,” Audio said.
Markee closed the front door, and the four men put their hands on their weapons. A white towel hung over the edge of Markee’s brown leather coat and he wiped away his sweat.
“So I guess you know these niggas?” Tornado, Markee’s main goon, asked.
“Yeah, they my mothafuckin’cousins.” Hearing the commotion, Major walked out of his room with his dick exposed, while Killa stepped out of the bathroom with Markee’s monogrammed towel wrapped around his lower body. Markee couldn’t help but steal a look at what God blessed his cousins with, and it pissed him off all over again.
“Sorry, man.” Major smiled. “We didn’t think you were coming home tonight. We done, though. The girls about to leave.”
“You didn’t think I was coming home?” He tilted his head. “Nigga, I live here!” He stabbed his finger into his chest. “This my mothafuckin’crib!”
“It’s cool, the girls about to be out,” Slade said. He handed Shannon his coat to cover her body. “Can you fellas turn around so they can get dressed?”
“You don’t run shit in here, Slade!” Markee said, eager to get out on the king of the clan. “I make the rules here. We ain’t in Mississippi now! This DC!”
“You got that,” he said with his hands raised. “I’m just trying to get them out so you can have your spot back.” Slade knew his cousin was weak and he didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his men. Right or wrong, he was out of order for bringing people in the house. And if he told his mother, she’d let him have it. “We good?”
“Fuck no!” Markee said, shaking his head from left to right. “We not good!”
“Well, what you want us to do then, nigga?” Audio yelled from the kitchen. Neither one of his bitches had bothered to get dressed. “Let you fuck one of ’em or something?”
“Ugh ... no!” one of his girls yelled. “He too fat and nasty.” Audio laughed and this infuriated Markee even more.
“You niggas think it’s a joke!
I might be the funnyman down South, but out here, mothafuckas respect me! I’m boss,” Markee continued, getting everything off his chest he wanted to since he was a kid. “Y’all ain’t got the family telling y’all that you better than me out here.” Slade shook his head, knowing he was hurt about the past, but it wasn’t his fault. On many occasions he came to the rescue for him, when the family ragged on him. So he tried to hold his tongue, because if Slade flipped, it would be a wrap and someone would have to pay.
“We know this your crib, nigga,” Killa said. “How many times you gonna say that shit?”
“Killa, stop,” Slade said, raising his hand. He looked at Shannon and her crew. “Ladies, go in the other room and put your clothes on. Let us talk to our cousin for a minute.”
“I don’t want them bitches in my room! I don’t want them in my house!” Markee continued. “If they gotta get dressed, make ’em do it out here.” Then he looked at Major. “Tell that bitch to get dressed out here too.” He pointed at the girl behind him in his bedroom’s doorway. “Y’all been in there long enough anyway. My sheets probably got all kind of butt juice on them now. And y’all washing my shit, too!”
“Markee, we fam,” Slade said, using his body to cover Shannon. “So you ain’t got to be doing all of this in front of your crew. Because you already know what it is if I go off, and not one of them punks would be able to hold me back.”
“Nigga, you don’t know me,” Corey, one of Markee’s goons, said. “You don’t know shit about me.”
Slade looked at him and said, “You right, nigga, that’s why I’m not talking to you.”
“Just tell them bitches to get the fuck out!” Markee continued, clapping his hands. It was so important that he get them to follow his order for the first time in life that he wasn’t thinking straight.
Slade’s jaw flexed because he couldn’t reason with him while he was grandstanding. There he was ... fat and sweaty in his leather coat ... he was a hot-ass mess. And there the Baker Boys were: fit, handsome, and surrounded by naked women ... so it was easy to relate to his envy. “Ladies, get dressed in the kitchen.” Slade pointed. He was tired of talking to him.
“You think it’s a joke?” He looked at his men. “Toss them bitches out!”
When Corey decided to be the first to step up to bat, Slade hit him with a sleeper that neither his face nor body could handle. Lying face up on the floor, with his eyes closed, it was apparent that he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon. Seeing the chaos, the girls huddled up in a corner in the living room, and scrambled to put their clothes on where they stood.
The rest of the Baker Boys rushed the other two goons, while Slade handled the third. Markee stepped out of the way, finally realizing the trouble he started, all because his ego was out of control. The girls were screaming at the top of their lungs as the country boys put the beat down of a lifetime on Markee’s crew. When shit got too bloody, Shannon and her friends quickly exited the apartment, afraid that someone would start shooting and they would be caught up in the crossfire.
“Y’all breaking my shit!” Markee yelled, watching his table and chairs smash to the floor like wet paper. “Not my entertainment center! Please!”
Still having respect for his cousin, Slade grabbed his opponent into the hallway by his coat, so he wouldn’t fuck up his entire crib. Following suit, Major, Killa, Audio, and the others also moved into the hallway. All you could hear was screaming and yelling as the Baker Boys beat Markee’s men to an infantile state.
Chapter 30
“Don’t worry. I got an idea.”
—Chloe
Chloe and Mia were sitting on the couch in the living room eating all of Lesa’s Oreo cookies and drinking her milk. Having smoked two blunts back to back, their minds were calm, and they were contemplating what to stuff between their jaws next. “Did you notice how clear Farah’s face is now?” Chloe asked. “When Dr. Martin called earlier, he said she not seeing him, but doing something else. I wonder what that is?”
“She snapped on me when I called him the last time she got sick,” Mia started. “She must be doing something right though, because she look good.”
“Well, I need to find out what it is because I’m tired of having to be careful everywhere I go. We can’t go out if it’s too sunny, we can’t be around certain odors ... I’m just sick of it!”
“What’s funny is Grandma got the same shit and she look fine,” Mia said.
“Yeah ... but she don’t use soap, and she ain’t got no friends either because of her body odor. Mamma likes to look pretty and wear perfumes and lotions. I guess that’s why it’s hitting her bad now. Me and you only use the basics, but after a while, we might have to cut everything off too.”
“We gonna be all right and so is Mamma. You just keep taking your medicine before—”
Loud screams rang out in the hallway and Chloe, still wearing Lesa’s dress, which was covered in weed holes, threw the apartment door open to see what was going on. When she looked outside she couldn’t believe her eyes. “Either I’ve died and gone to heaven, or I see three half-naked niggas fighting in the hallway.” Chloe smiled, looking at the Baker Boys. Slade was the only one dressed and the rest had on boxers and T-shirts, and it was fine with her.
“We both must be two dead bitches,” Mia said with her mouth hung open. ’Cause I see the same damn thing!”
The Baker Boys had beaten Markee’s crew so badly that all he could do was lean up against the wall and shake his head. Instead of begging his cousins to stop, he was now saying, “Please don’t kill’em, y’all. Don’t kill’em. They some good dudes. This going too far now.”
Slade and his brothers didn’t hear his pleas. Things had been taken to another level and it was entirely his fault. Two goons were able to get away after Audio, Killa, and Major let them go, after hearing cop sirens in the background. Slade, on the other hand, had snapped a long time ago. This was one of the things the brothers feared. There was nothing anybody could do to stop him.
Slade’s mind was elsewhere as he held Tornado up by his shirt, and repeatedly hit him in the center of the face with a closed fist. Tornado’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and his teeth cut into the flesh of his fingers, but he felt no pain. Slade thought about Knox, and the fact that he hadn’t heard from him in days. He thought about his cousin Devon, and how he died over a beef that had nothing to do with him. The beat down was now so brutal that the Baker Boys, Markee, Chloe, and Mia stood in the hallway in shock. Slade was mad at the world and unfortunately Markee’s goon was taking the brunt of his frustration.
“The cops coming!” the pudgy kid said.
“Slade,” Killa said, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Let him go, man.”
He didn’t hear him, or any other sound around him. “Slade, we gotta go, man,” Audio said, walking up to him. “The cops are outside.”
He could not be stopped until Major said, “What about Mamma? And Knox? You gonna get locked up and get her stressed out even more? Let him go, man. It’s over.”
Hearing their names brought him back to reality and he looked at the man who was no longer moving, and released his shirt. His body dropped and his head bounced on the floor like a ball. He wiped the blood off of his hand, and onto his jeans, before looking at everyone. In his right state of mind, he could finally hear the commotion outside of the building. “Let’s go back in the house.”
“You can’t come in here,” Markee said. “They gonna look here first. I can throw him off.”
“Then let’s run,” Audio said.
“It’s one way in and out,” Markee informed him.
“Y’all can come in,” Chloe offered. “They won’t know y’all are here.”
Mia looked at her sister and said, “What you talking about? This not even our place!”
“Right, so what do we care?” Before Mia could dispute, the Baker Boys piled into Farah’s apartment and Chloe locked the door. The moment she turned around and faced them, Audio w
as eyeing her. This was the first time she was in the presence of a man who she felt was her equal, and considering her violent nature, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
Slade ran up to the window, move the blinds slightly, and looked outside. The red, white, and blue lights were flashing in so many directions it was blinding. “There gotta be, like, ten cop cars out there!” he reported. “Shit! Why Markee make me do that?”
“Fuck! What we gonna do now?” Major asked. “We came out here to wait for Knox; now we ’bout to get locked the fuck up! That white mothafucka from Mississippi definitely gonna find us.”
“Now who went too far, Slade?” Audio said. “I fought a few niggas in a gas station ... but you beat a nigga to the pulp in front of witnesses. And you talking about me.”
“Why you speaking all wild in front of company?” Slade asked, looking at the women.
“Sorry, man,” Audio said. “I lost it for a minute. I just feel like breaking Markee’s jaw. Why he put us out there like that? All he had to do was let them bitches get dressed.”
“We gonna be good,” Slade said. “You just gotta give me a second to think.” Chloe and Mia sat on the sofa and looked up at the men. Their bodies, their faces, their presence had them feeling some kind of way. “I’m sorry about this,” Slade said, looking at them. He stepped away from the window. “We gonna leave the moment the cops bounce. Just give us a second for this to blow over.”
“It’s not a problem. We weren’t doing shit anyway but getting high,” Chloe offered. “Y’all want anything to eat or drink?”
“Water would be good,” Audio said. Chloe jumped up and swaggered to the kitchen, so he could witness the way her body wiggled and her ass bounced. He was paying close attention, and could certainly go another sex round, despite fucking two bitches earlier and fighting in the hallway.
