by Nene Capri
Chapter 4 - Shook Up
Frank, Money, and Twist were moving around the stash house, emptying what was left in the safes and shredding all paperwork. Derrick and Devon owed everybody. They had been fabricating the books and robbing niggas for years. They had counties worth of niggas on their asses. The worst thing they could have done was hit Dream’s money spot. And to make shit worse, Derrick was ghost, leaving the team to take all the heat from Dream and his crew.
“I can’t believe that bitch-ass nigga let this shit fall on us,” Frank said as he put fraudulent business licenses, receipts, doctored spread sheets, and contracts in the shredder.
“We just need to get the fuck outta here before that nigga catches up to us,” Money stated, moving to the last safe. His eyes widened when he saw that all the money was gone. “Muthafucka!” he gritted his teeth reaching in and moving his hand around. There was nothing but empty envelops and money bands.
“What’s wrong?” Twist asked, walking over to the safe.
“This nigga left us out here with nothing. This little bit of money ain’t shit to pack up and leave with,” Money stated, shaking his head. Shit had come full circle. “Those niggas made promises to us, now we gotta pay their debt.”
“Look, tighten the fuck up. We gotta get the fuck outta here. We split this shit three ways. We leaving these bitches behind, so no going home. And if that nigga catch up with you, you take the punishment for your own crime,” Frank said as he dumped the bag of money and began dividing the stacks.
Money just shook his head. He was not trying to die for any pussy-ass nigga that would run and leave his team, his woman, and family to suffer for his own greed. He had already vowed he was going to get ghost, but if that nigga Dream caught up with him, he was going to sing like Whitney Houston.
Twist agreed with Frank, but he wasn’t leaving his woman behind. This nigga crazy, Twist thought as he sat in the chair across from Frank, daydreaming about his plans to move. Twist was one of them goofy muthafuckas, the nigga needed an application to the Special Olympics. If you told the nigga to go right, he would go in compete circle and then ask which way.
The money was separated and divided evenly. The three men stood, gave each other a short embrace, grabbed the bags of shredded paper, and then moved toward the door.
“Don’t forget. You get caught, you on your own,” Frank reiterated, closing the deal with a bump on each man’s fist.
* * * * *
“Hello,” Leena’s low, groggy voice came through the phone.
“Hey, Leena, what’s good, ma?” Chyna asked as she stroked clear polish over her nails.
“Giiirl…I’m still fucked up from last night. What you up to?” Leena asked, trying to sit up.
“I see, you sound like you been sucking dirty sweat socks all night,” Chyna laughed while fanning her hands back and forth.
“Fuck you, ain’t my fault you let that nigga fall into Derrick’s place and boss yo’ ass around. You could have been having fun too.” She stretched and looked over at the clock, then pulled back the covers and stood up.
The smile eased off Chyna’s face. There was a heavy silence, and just as the emotions started to surface, she held them back. “Don’t judge me. I’m out here by myself.”
“Bitch, it ain’t nothing wrong with being out here by yourself. You gonna trade being honest to yourself to live another nigga’s lie. Fuck that shit. You gonna end up on the worst end of the situation,” Leena stated as she moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a coke.
“Just be there for me regardless of the outcome,” Chyna said, her voice shaky.
“I am here for you, but I do not trust that nigga Dream. You playing with fire. We need to have a sit down with the girls. This shit is getting crazy. Devon gone, Money and them can’t be reached. I don’t know what to think.”
“You haven’t heard from Money?”
“Not in two days.” She closed the refrigerator, opened the bottle of gin, and took it to the head.
“Set up a meeting with the girls. We gotta make some plans. Call me back after you speak to everybody.”
“A’ight, I’ll hit you back in a minute,” Leena said and then hung up.
Chyna sat on the couch and processed what Leena had just said. The reality of her words sank in. We are out here alone. Derrick had been taking care of everything. She didn’t have shit to fall back on, and now she had two sons to raise by herself. And to top it off, she had let a snake in her bed just to have some sort of security. She put her head back on the couch and cried. The tears she had been trying to hold in fell rapidly from her eyes. She knew that Leena was right, by fucking with Dream she was only going to end up hurt, but she needed him just as much as he needed her, and she was going to use him until she could buy her way out.
* * * * *
Leena and Joselyn pulled up to the night club, and ladies’ night was jumping. They stepped out, jeans tight and heels high. All eyes were glued to the sway of their hips as they walked toward the entrance. The music hit them hard in the face when the door opened, and then the smoke and heat followed.
Leena’s booty switched hard on her way to the bar, while Joselyn lagged a little farther behind. She was eyeing the crowd of contorted bodies moving to the beat, looking for Trion. Her heart said he was gone, but her mind saw his face on almost every man in attendance. She perched her thick thighs up on the bar stool and ordered something strong.
“Do you see Chyna and Kenyatta?’ Leena asked, pushing herself forward to place her order.
“Nah, not yet,” Jocelyn said, taking her eyes for another stroll over the room.
“Let’s grab a table,” Leena said, collecting her drink from the bar top.
The two ladies moved through the crowd to a booth and took a seat. Jocelyn’s stomach was in knots, but she sipped her drink and tried to remain calm. Shit was worse than she thought. Derrick had left them with their ass out, her man was missing, and the whole crew was falling apart.
“There they go.” Leena stood up and waved Chyna and Kenyatta over.
Joselyn tried to perk up and force a smile. Chyna led the way, rocking her hips to the beat as she avoided the reaching hands. Her confidence was on ten, and she felt every bit of her sexy with every stride. Her dark-red, skin-tight jeans and white, backless halter top had all of her chocolate on full display.
Kenyatta moved behind her in a white cat suit with a zebra print thong and bra underneath. She pursed her lips and swung her shoulder-length hair as she stared out at all of the thirst in the room.
“Hey, divas,” Chyna said, leaning in to kiss her girls on their cheeks.
Leena was all smiles.
“What we drinking? A bitch wanna walk outta here sideways.” Chyna picked up Leena’s drink and took a sip.
“Bitch, don’t play.” Leena took the drink from her hand.
“Hater,” Chyna said as she waved over the waitress. “Hey, mama. Can you bring us two bottles of peach Cîroc and some cans of Sprit?” she yelled over the music.
“Is that all?” the woman asked, wrote it down, and was gone.
The ladies waited until the waitress moved into the crowd and then huddled together to address the shit storm that had fallen into their laps.
“So what’s up?” Leena asked, looking at Chyna.
“I don’t know, girl. Devon is gone, Derrick is underground, and now Twist, Frank, and Money are unaccounted for.”
“Damn, Derrick ain’t check on his kids?” Jocelyn asked with her lips twisted.
“Not yet. I’m scared as hell. I took them to my grandmother’s house, just in case shit gets crazy,” Chyna said, looking at the puzzled looks on her girls’ faces.
“Have you heard anything from Trion?” Chyna asked Jocelyn.
“No, and I’m just as scared as you are. You know they don’t play with home. I am trying to stay positive, but shit don’t feel right,” Jocelyn said, moving her head slowly from side to side.
“Look, the mai
n thing we have to do is act like shit is normal. We don’t know anything, and we don’t have shit to do with whatever they had going on in the background. Stack whatever paper you can for just in case and move smart,” Kenyatta stated matter-of-factly.
“That shit is easy for you to say. You aren’t in as deep as we are,” Chyna said, throwing a little shade in her direction.
“Oh, you think because none of them niggas cuffed me, I’m exempt? Just knowing them and hanging out with y’all asses makes me look suspect. But fuck it, it is what it is. I’m going to do me.” She crossed her legs. “Plus, I know you ain’t that scared, you fucking the number one suspect.” She hurled some shade into Chyna’s corner.
“Don’t worry about who I’m fucking,” Chyna spat back.
“Oh, I wasn’t. But you need to be,” Kenyatta stated firmly.
“Look, all this is unnecessary,” Leena cut in before the next round of punches was thrown.
“She is just saying what we all are thinking. Shit, somebody had to say it,” Jocelyn cut in.
“Look, I didn’t come out to fight with y’all. I got mad love for all of you, and I don’t want to see anything happen to any one of us. I’m doing the best I can, y’all just be careful, that’s all.”
“We will,” Leena said, looking at her girls. She had a strong feeling this night would soon be just a memory of the last time things were good between them.
“Let’s just turn up,” Kenyatta changed the atmosphere in their section. The waitress was coming their way, and all she saw was hot liquor and then her ass up against something rock hard and swinging.
When the drinks hit the table, Kenyatta started to pour one after the next, filling their empty glasses as soon as they hit the table. After drinking, they floated out to the dance floor. They moved to the rhythm like no one was watching. For the moment they were free, and all of their problems seemed far in the background.
When “No Hands” by Waka Flocka came on, it was on. Kenyatta went to the floor and came back up, shaking her ass like loose change. Niggas were pointing and howling, and she was moving like she was getting ready to take the stage and work the pole. She flung her hair and moved her body perfectly to the beat.
Chyna got behind her, held her waist, and got nasty with it. They were putting on a show. Leena and Jocelyn held their glasses in the air and tried to keep up. Chyna stuck her tongue out and twerked her ass as she turned to face Leena. When she went full circle and her eyes met with Dream, she almost pissed her pants. He was standing by the bar with his arms folded over his chest, staring at her with a wrinkled brow. He looked as if she disgusted him.
Chyna froze in place. Leena looked into the direction of her gaze, and her eyes squinted damn-near closed. She rolled her tongue over her teeth as she steadied her breathing.
“Y’all go ahead, I’ma sit down for a minute,” Chyna said, fanning herself and moving to the booth to take a seat.
“Damn, where you going?” Kenyatta asked as she kept popping her ass.
Dream was already on his way over to them. He was dressed in crisp, dark-grey jeans and a t-shirt. Giuseppe graced his feet.
Jocelyn turned and followed Chyna to the table she poured a drink and took it to the head. The very sight of Dream made her ass itch.
“You having fun?” his deep voice barked over the music.
“I’m good,” Chyna looked up into his eyes and forced a smile.
“Come here for a minute,” he ordered and then turned to walk away.
Chyna took a deep breath and got up to follow him.
Kenyatta came back to the table, breathing heavily and sweating. She grabbed a napkin from the table and patted her face and neck “Where’s that bitch going?” she asked, taking her drink into her hand and sipping fast from the straw.
“She’ll be right back,” Leena said and then sat down. As far as she was concerned, the evening was now fucked up. As soon as she got a chance, she was going to let Chyna’s ass have it.
Kenyatta looked back and forth at the sour faces on Leena and Jocelyn, shrugged her shoulders, placed her drink on the table, and went back to the dance floor.
Jocelyn looked over at Leena and mouthed the words, “I don’t trust that nigga.” Her nostrils flared in disgust when the last word left her lips.
“I got it, ma,” Leena stated as she crossed her legs and stared out at the crowd.
Dream took Chyna by the hand and lead her to the bathroom. She trotted behind him as he moved through the dudes that were posted up near the door. He pushed the door open hard, pulled her into a stall, and locked the door. Within seconds his hands were all over her body. After releasing her breasts from her top, he placed his mouth over her nipples and sucked each one hard and fast.
“Dream, wait,” Chyna tried to resist.
“Nah, you were out there acting like you wanted to get fucked,” he growled as he unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down past her butt. He squeezed her ass cheeks tightly and then turned her around, positioning her ass right on his stiffened dick.
Chyna was breathing heavily, and her head was spinning as the heat from his touch mixed with the Cîroc, caused her to feel off balance. She placed her hands on the wall, pulling slightly away from him.
Dream ignored her attempt to get free and pushed her forward.
Chyna gripped the top of the toilet and held on tight as she felt him maneuver her thong to the side and push his hard dick into her dry opening. She pressed her lips together tightly as she tried to muffle the moans that were trying to escape her mouth.
Dream slammed himself into her. Sweat began to form on his forehead, dripping down on her back as he gripped her hips tighter, going deeper with every push.
“Dreaam...” she moaned lowly as she tried to move forward to lessen some of the pain from his stroke.
“Don’t run now. Move this pussy how you were moving on the dance floor. Act like I’m all those niggas watching and fuck me,” he ordered, gritting his teeth.
“Please stop,” she begged.
Dream got more charged with her every cry and plea.
Chyna tried to close her eyes and pretend she wasn’t there, but the voices that came and went were commenting on what was going on in the stall, letting her know it was real.
When Dream felt the urge to release, he pumped faster and faster, until he was right on the edge. He quickly pulled out, grabbed her arm—bringing her to him—and pushed her to her knees, forcing his dick damn near all the way down her throat.
Chyna gagged and sucked as he pushed her head, holding onto a handful of her hair. She squeezed her jaws, hoping to bring the whole ordeal to an end. When he grunted and released, she pulled back.
“Stay on the head and don’t spill a drop,” he ordered.
Chyna sucked on the swollen head of his dick, swallowing all he gave.
Dream pushed her back and walked out of the stall with his dick semi-hard and swinging. He walked over to the sink, grabbed some paper towels, and cleaned himself off.
Chyna closed the door, grabbed a wad of tissue, wiped her mouth, spit into the toilet, and then grabbed another wad to clean between her legs. She put her panties back in place and pulled up her jeans. She maneuvered her breasts back into her tight top and leaned up against the wall. She wanted to just disappear.
“Come on, ma,” Dream yelled out over the stall as he straightened his clothes.
Chyna took in some air and then opened the door. When she emerged all eyes were on her. A guy nodded and held his dick like he wanted next. Several women stood in a huddle, sniffing powder and downing pills. A crowd of men stood around watching like hungry wolves waiting to devour their prey. She walked to the sink and washed her hands and face. When she looked up into the mirror, she was repulsed by what she saw. She wanted to vomit right where she stood. Chyna tried to pull herself together with all the gawking eyes on her, but she couldn’t stop the tears from falling swiftly from her eyes. She wiped them away, took a deep breath, fingered throug
h her hair and applied some lip gloss. She turned toward Dream’s intense stare.
“Next time don’t ask for what you really don’t want,” he scolded her like a child. “Let’s go.” He moved back allowing her to pass.
Chyna looked down at the floor as she moved out of the door. When she got to the entrance to the dance floor, she forced her head up high and added a slight smile to her face.
Dream came up behind her and spoke firmly into her ear. “Get ya shit and meet me at the house so I can finish.”
Chyna cringed but nodded, then headed to her girls.
Dream moved to the front door and whispered to a few dudes before moving out of the club.
“Damn, bitch, you look like you been freaking.” Kenyatta danced in front of her.
“You know how it is when the pussy is new and good.” She slapped hands with Kenyatta, chuckled, grabbed the bottle by the neck, and filled her glass to the top. “I’m about to pull out, y’all good?”
“Pull out?” Jocelyn asked. She couldn’t take another second of the charade she was putting on.
“Yeah, I gotta go,” she took the Cîroc to the head. She drank the hot liquid and breathed out fire.
“Fuck that, we just got here,” Kenyatta slurred as she pretended to pout.
Jocelyn stood up and took Chyna by the arm. “We gotta talk.” She walked off, pulling Chyna along with her.
“Jay, what’s wrong? Why you pulling me?’ Chyna tried to snatch away.
Leena took Kenyatta by the hand and lead her out as well.
“What the fuck is going on?” Kenyatta asked, trying not to spill her drink on her all white. “Damn it.” She looked down at the liquid on her pants leg and shoes.
“Just come on.” Leena held her hand tightly and didn’t let go.
“This is the last time I come out with you bitter bitches,” she announced, setting her glass on the bar as she passed.
When they got to the parking lot, Chyna and Jocelyn were already heated up.
