Street Divas

by De'nesha Diamond

  His fucked-up eye twitches and shit, and some weird puss oozes out of the scar on his right cheek.

  Cringing, I pull away, but Drey’s grip tightens to the point he’s about to break my arm. “Let me go, goddamn it! Let me go!” I snatch my arm away and then turn to run back to my car, but I pull up short at the figure standing behind me.

  “Le Shelle.”

  She smiles. “You’ve been a bad girl.”

  Fear chokes off my air supply. “What?”

  LeShelle cocks her head. “That’s all you got?”

  I try to inch my way around her. “Well . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Fuck. No wonder you and Ta’Shara are best friends. You bitches got the same muthafuckin’ problem: thinking my ass is stupid.”

  “Look. I don’t know what—”

  “Spare me. I had a little talk with your friend Qiana. I know your ass has been double snitching. You gave up my boys Treasure and Mario.”

  “What?” I desperately glance over at Drey, but he folds his arms and shakes his head. “Wait now. LeShelle—”

  “Save it. You done made your fuckin’ bed—now lie in that bitch.” She snatches the gas pump out of Drey’s tank and then hoses my ass down with gasoline.

  The strong fumes singe my nostrils and burn my eyes but not so much that I don’t realize that I need to get my ass away from this crazy bitch. I break away and run back toward my car.

  “Where the fuck you going, E?” LeShelle rushes behind me.

  I hop behind the wheel and turn the key, but my car stalls.

  “Run, rat, run!” LeShelle laughs.

  I turn the key again and then hit the button for the power window.

  “I got something for your snitching ass.” LeShelle flicks on a lighter and tosses the muthafucka.

  I watch in horror as it stays lit and sails through my window.

  “NO! NO! NO!”

  WHOOOSH!!

  38

  Momma Peaches

  “ What the fuck are you talking about?” Isaac thunders, throwing his weight back against his chair and mean mugging me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “It’s a simple question,” I say, and go back to holding my breath.

  “I ain’t answering that bullshit,” he barks. “That’s what you brought your ass down here for? You wanna sweat me about some bullshit that floats around in your mind?”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Is this seriously how you want to play this?”

  He twists in his seat and looks everywhere but in my face.

  A sharp pain stabs me in the center of my chest. “You know what? You ain’t even got to say shit. How you actin’ is all the confirmation I need.”

  Isaac shakes his big, bald head as if by doing that shit he can avoid taking responsibility for the dirt he wallowed in while he was roaming the streets.

  “Look. I’m far from stupid, Isaac. And it ain’t like I don’t know that your ass was addicted to pussy the entire time we were together. Me walking in on you and Josie was confirmation enough that you didn’t have any kind of respect for me.”

  “And what about you? You gonna tell me that you weren’t dishing your dirt? You got that pussy on lockdown while I’m up in this bitch, serving my bid?”

  “Hell fucking naw. I’m getting plenty of dick, fuck you very much. And don’t change the muthafuckin’ subject. While you were out here like every other ho on patrol, did you knock up my sister? Yes or no?”

  “I don’t fuckin’ know!” he shouts.

  We stare at each other while his words linger between us for a full minute.

  “You don’t fuckin’ know?” I repeat. “But you do know whether or not you put your dick into my sister, right?”

  Isaac sucks in an impatient breath, but then finally leans forward and plants his elbows on the counter. “Peaches . . . it was a long time ago. The shit didn’t mean nothing to me.”

  “FUCK. YOU.” I jump up from my chair and slam my fist against the Plexiglas. “Be glad this muthafucka is here because I would seriously fuck you up!”

  The guards jump to attention. Two come charging up behind me and grab me before my fists fly again. “You worthless piece of shit. I fuckin’ hate your ass.”

  Isaac is on his feet, staring at me like I’ve really lost it.

  Meanwhile, I keep hollering. I have to do something to avoid the guilt that is threatening to crush my chest in. Of all people, Isaac knew how fragile my sister was. I had poured my heart out to him about how guilty I’ve always felt for the part I played in her being raped when she was a teenager. I told him through my tears about my struggle of dealing with her drug problems and juggling that with taking care of my ailing grandmother. I shouldered the burden of caring for Terrell while she was doing God knows what with God knows who. And he what, ran his ass over there and possibly put another baby on her?

  “Where’s Mason, Isaac?” I shout while being dragged backward. “What the fuck did you do with Mason?”

  “I didn’t have shit to do with that bullshit,” he shouts back with his own guards trying to extract him from the room.

  “Bullshit!” How the fuck can I believe anything this nigga says now? All these fucking years, he never once said or acknowledged that maybe it was his son who had gone missing. Never once did he even try to look for him. He watched me day after day go crazy, wondering where that poor child could be. Who Alice sold him to or what sick bastard stole him out of his home.

  All these years, I let my fucking heart ignore and dismiss a whole lot of things because . . . what? What the hell was I thinking? I can’t even remember anymore. By the time I’m back at my car, I’m literally sick to my stomach. For all my fucking street smarts, how come I always pick the worst men? Why have I always picked liars, addicts, and rapists?

  I sit there a long fucking time, feeling sorry for myself before my mind drifts back to the man I got waiting for me at home. Cedric. Sure he’s the son of my first love and technically my parole officer, but at least he’s got his shit together. He ain’t out here in these streets chasing fifteen cents and slinging bullets around like life is one big-ass video game. No. He’s a grown-up.

  “And he loves me.” I lift my head and meet my eyes in the rearview mirror. “And he wants to marry me,” I remind myself. Though I seriously doubt my ass really wants to get married again, I do feel better knowing that I got somebody at home who cares for me.

  “Fuck you, Isaac.” I start the car, flip the prison building the bird, and then blaze up out of there.

  By the time I get to Shotgun Row, I’m feeling a little more like my old self. I push Isaac and all his lies to the back of my mind as I park and climb out of the car. In case Betty or Josie is hanging around, I push on a smile so that those haters don’t get the ghetto grapevine going.

  However, as I stroll up the porch steps, I get this weird feeling churning in my belly, and the hairs on the backs of my arms and neck stand up. When I push open the door, those feelings only intensify.

  “Cedric?” I call out, shutting the front door behind me. “Baby, I’m back.” I move through the house. Maybe he’s taking a nap?

  I hold still for a second and then strain my ears to catch any strange sounds. The whole thing gives me a sense of déjà vu as I creep toward the bedroom. Yet, when I step into the bedroom, I see Cedric stretched out on the floor with blood pooling around his head. “Shit!”

  Rushing over to him, I drop down to check and see if he’s even breathing. But the minute I touch him, I know he’s gone.

  “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I need to go get help. I jump to my feet and turn, but then gasp aloud when I see this bitch standing behind me.

  “Hello, Maybelline.”

  Despite the long silver hair, recognition settles in. “Alice?”

  She gives me a thin smile. “Glad to know that you remember me.”

  Before I can say another fucking word, this bitch swings and hits me with something so hard that it knocks me t
he fuck out.

  39

  LeShelle

  The small spikes on my chain collar dig into my skin and intensifies the pleasure coursing throughout my body while Python focuses on tearing up my G-spot from the back. It’s been a hot minute since his ass has handled this pussy the way I like it, but he’s on his muthafuckin’ job now.

  “Your ass is always talking shit,” Python growls, and reaches around to tug and twist one of the heavy nipple clamps locked onto my titties. “Now look at you. You’re loving this dick, ain’t you?”

  “Awwww, shit,” I moan. I can’t do much either, since my hands are handcuffed behind my back.

  Python switches it up and jerks the chain on my collar. My neck is pulled back while those spikes dig in deeper. “Uh-huh. Your ass needs to be trained again. Lately you’ve been rolling around this muthafucka thinking your ass got the bigger dick.”

  I try to answer, but I feel a powerful nut rising all the way up from my big toe. “Aw, shit,” I repeat, ready to pass out from both the pleasure and the pain.

  “Ain’t that right, baby? You think your ass has a dick bigger than mine?”

  Fuck, yeah.

  Python pulls the chain harder. No doubt my ass has blood oozing beneath my collar. Still, I don’t want to answer his question. I want to hold out for as long as I can because I’m addicted to pain. I don’t know how it happened or when it happened, but it did. I’m no longer that little girl who used to cry herself to sleep at night with her panties full of blood. Where I once was weak, I now am strong.

  Two more hard strokes and I’m screaming up toward the ceiling while honey gushes down my legs and around his cock.

  “Did I tell your ass to come?” Python asks, sliding out of my wet trenches and slapping the back of my ass with it. “Hmm? You think you can do whatever the fuck you want to do, huh?”

  I turn my head and grin devilishly at him.

  He shakes his head. “Yeah. You need to be trained again. There’s only room for one muthafucka to be sagging up in this bed.” He dips his thick finger into my asshole and twirls that bitch all around. Before I know it, he shoves in another and then another. More honey flows down my leg in anticipation of him cramming in his monster cock and splitting my shit wide open, but Python wants to play some more.

  “C’mon. Get your ass up.” He stands up from the bed and then drags me by my chain over to the metal hook we got hanging from the ceiling. Next, he hooks my collar onto it and then walks over to the corner of the room and pulls the hook up like a pulley until I’m standing on my tiptoes.

  A new level of pain shoots throughout my body, and my clit thumps in double time. “Ahhhhh.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. This is much better,” he says, locking the chain in place and then stroking his dick as he approaches me again. “Now this is how I should keep your ass, strung up all day every day.”

  I choke and gag while he picks up a leather riding crop. My heart races while I struggle to stay on my tiptoes.

  “Get ready, baby. Because I’m about to light that ass up,” he promises. “I want to hear your ass tell me who the fuck wears the pants in this muthafucka.” Without even waiting for my ass to respond, he sends that crop flying across my ass.

  Smack!

  I jump at the burning sting and then lose my balance. My collar digs so deep into my neck that I almost black out.

  Python laughs while I scramble to get back on my toes. However, my relief lasts less than a second before the next series of blows takes my breath away.

  Smack! Smack! Smack!

  My entire ass and thighs feel like they’re on fire.

  And still I’m coming like a muthafucka. To change it up, Python strolls around in front of me and starts hitting me across the nipples, which are already straining from the weight of the nipple clamps.

  Smack! Smack! Smack!

  “Sheeiiiit,” I yell.

  Smack!

  “Who’s the fuckin’ man, Shelle?”

  Smack!

  “Sheeiiitt.” I turn and try to get away from the blows, but it doesn’t help. Python is happy to chase me in a complete circle.

  Smack! Smack! Smack!

  “I’m waiting.” He laughs.

  Smack! Smack! Smack!

  I can’t take the shit no more. “You are!”

  “Who?” Python presses. “I didn’t hear you.”

  Smack!

  “YOU, BABY! You’re the man!”

  “Damn muthafuckin’ straight.” He gives me one last, hard smack that literally makes stars dance in front of my eyes.

  Still this nigga ain’t through. He moves up behind me.

  “Spread your legs,” he says, using the riding crop to slap in between my thighs until I obey. “Yeah. There you go.” He rubs his cock between my legs until it’s coated with my pussy’s thick honey.

  It gets harder by the second to remain on my toes, and every time I slip a little bit, I’m gagging and choking like a bitch seconds from meeting her maker. I can’t say that I completely trust this muthafucka not to murk my ass up here, but it’s that not knowing that adds to the danger and gets me off.

  Python’s thick finger pries open my ass cheeks, and then with one thrust, my ass is on fire again.

  “Sssssss. Oh.” He locks his hands on my hips while I dangle like a slab of beef.

  More stars start dancing behind my eyes. My entire body is radiating with pain. “Awwwwww. Awwwww.”I’matmylimit . I can’t take any more, but I no longer have the ability to beg for mercy. Hell. I barely have the ability to get air into my lungs. Python isn’t in any hurry to reach his nut, so the pain just intensifies to a whole new level.

  “Ssssss. I fuckin’ love your ass, girl,” Python hisses, catching my attention. “I don’t know why the hell you still fuck with me, but I’m glad you do.”

  I blink. What the hell did he say?

  In the next second, he whips his cock out and blasts all over my ass and then smears his warm nut into the skin of my burning ass.

  “Ssssssss.”

  Ten minutes later, I’m unhooked and a funky mess lying across our bed.

  “You’re a real fuckin’ soldier,” Python says, leaning over to kiss my shoulder. “You really have proved yourself over and over again.”

  “Glad you recognize.”

  “I’ve recognized it for a long time, but . . . bullshit clouded my judgment.”

  Bullshit named Melanie Johnson. I roll my eyes.

  “Anyway, I made a promise to your ass, and I’m a man of my word.” He reaches for the chain attached to the collar around my neck and removes something from the end. “This is for you. You earned it, baby.”

  Stunned, I stare at a beautiful diamond ring.

  A smile hitches the side of his face. “Let’s do this shit.”

  “Fuck, yeah.” I jut out my left hand so that he can slide this fat rock onto it. While I’m doing this, my heart is racing like a muthafucka.

  “You happy now?”

  Fuck, yeah. But I tell him, “Not until I get yo ass in front of a minister and say ‘I do.’ ”

  “Just like a woman—never satisfied.”

  “What the fuck ever,” I sass back, and then lean in to suck on his bottom lip to get round two started. “Chronic” starts bumping from his cell phone. I groan because this shit keeps happening. “Let it go to voice mail,” I tell him.

  “Sorry, Ma. Business before pleasure.” He rolls to the other side of the bed and picks up his cell.

  “Talk to me.”

  I sit up and hold my hand out to admire my ring again. This shit is finally going to happen.

  “WHAT?”

  I jump at Python’s roar and then start scrambling out of bed in case it’s time for me to grab my gat and haul ass.

  “I’m on my fuckin’ way,” he says, and springs up out of the bed, too. When he hangs up, he announces, “Something’s gone down at Momma Peaches’s. Stay here.”

  “No. I’ll come with you.”

  “N
ah. I need you to stay with Lil Man. I’ll be back once I know something.” He snatches up his clothes.

  “But—”

  “STAY HERE!”

  Before I can say shit else, his ass blazes out of here like there’s a fire lit under it. Once I hear the front door slam, I roll my eyes and shake my head. Then my attention is drawn back to the ring on my finger. I know just the person I want to see this muthafucka.

  40

  Yolanda

  My babies Malcolm, Amin, and Vivian act like they don’t remember me. That shit has thrown me for a loop as I watch them run around the park. They each treat me like I’m a stranger trying to offer them bad candy or some shit.

  “Don’t worry,” Ms. Terry says. “Give them more time.”

  I cut my gaze back at her as she sits next to me on the park bench. “Don’t play me. Y’all got to be turning them against me. Malcolm and Amin are six and seven. Why wouldn’t they remember me?”

  “They remember. They were five and six when the state took them. They’re not going to make it easy for you.” Ms. Terry sighs. “Vivian is another story. She’s probably following her brothers’ lead on this.”

  I shake my head and cross my arms. “This is some bullshit.”

  Ms. Terry draws in a deep breath. “Look, Ms. Turner. I know this is hard on you, but you got to know that it’s even harder on them. So far your children have been bounced around from one foster home to another. Your boys are showing signs of ADHD in school and lean toward violence when they don’t get their way in certain situations.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m a bad mother. I got it.” I roll my eyes up to the sky, but it’s not enough to stop the tears from streaking down my face. I’m a complete fuckup, with my kids, with Python, and even with taking out LeShelle’s evil ass. Shit. I can’t do nothing right. Let everybody else tell it.

  “Ms. Turner, are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” I backhand the tears off my face and return my attention to my children. Despite ignoring me, they look like they’re having a great time running around chasing each other. Little Vivian is holding her own. Now more than ever, I’m happy that I named her after Baby Thug. Even though there’s no blood relation, it’s still a little reminder that Baby was once here.