For my money, the real threat to her throne is Profit. Though my boo ain’t been a soldier long or put in a catalog of work like a lot of niggas, there’s just something about his swagger that has our people thinking his ass is a natural-born leader. Fuck. I recognized that shit a while back. While there’s a potential war within our ranks, GG kept it 100 on her prediction with the Crips. Those niggas are all the way foul. Plus, they’re hittin’ the streets with a new product that got the crackheads and drug fiends buzzing. I’ve tasted the product and I ain’t gonna lie, the shit is tight enough to change the game.
With Fat Ace murked and Python M.I.A., those slob niggas are hustlin’ corner boys off their spot and upping the number of drive-bys. Purple flags are flying everywhere. The shit forced Lucifer to pull some soldiers from the hunt for Python to deal with the new threat, but the next thing we knew we were engaged in two wars. The dead bodies stacking on the news is like reading the roll call of who’s who of the gang royalty.
You’d think that niggas would wall up and stay the fuck out of the streets with so many bullets flying, but danger has a way of drawing people out.Vice Lords mob deep in the streets and we all have itchy fingers—my ass included.
Almost everywhere I go I keep Jayson—that’s what I named that high yellow bitch’s baby boy—strapped to my chest. I gotta say that despite having an ugly-ass daddy, Jayson is turning out to be a pretty cute kid. I ain’t claiming to be domesticated or no shit like that, but I’m getting better at taking care of him. At least he’s stopped hollering all the time and sleeps though the night. I’m just wondering if there’s something wrong with him since his head is bigger than the rest of him.
Today, I catch word that a few soldiers have talked Profit’s ass into hanging out at Da Club. I hit GG up and talk her into watching the kid for a few hours so me and my girls can be in the spot. I’m lucky that GG has also taken a liking to the kid and agrees.
Me, Lil Bit, and Adaryl ain’t old enough to be at the spot, but being Tombstone’s sister does have it privileges.
Adaryl discovered some flesh-colored bandages and lined three on each side of my face. The shit isn’t perfect, but it stops me from looking like Frankenstein and sort of like my former self—especially when the hem of my black-and-gold dress barely covers the bottom curve of my round ass and the V in the front dips two inches above my belly button, but I keep my titties protected by using that special dress tape so I can avoid wardrobe malfunctions. It don’t matter because without a bra, my nipples are saying hello to every nigga when I step into the club.
My wing girls look equally fly. Adaryl’s young, Coke-bottle curves are encased in a black catsuit while Lil Bit’s short ass is flossing a gold Gucci dress she snatched off the rack in one of the malls. We’re three teenagers tryna look grown and doing a damn good job.
“You two be on your best behavior tonight,” Cutty warns from the door. “The last thing I want is for Tombstone to be putting his foot on my neck if something happens to his kid sister.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes at all that noise Cutty is bumping and strut my ass inside. Even though I put on a hard front, inside my nerves are twisted into knots.
“Damn.Your brother be cock-blockin’ even when he ain’t here,” Lil Bit complains.
“Fuck that.” I wave her and Cutty off and then cut my way through the crowd. A few slick niggas call themselves being funny and grab my ass. When I turn to cuss them out, everyone puts on they innocent face. “Uh, huh. Scary-ass muthafuckas.” I turn and switch my hips through the crowd. Bodies are bumping and grinding to Juicy J’s latest track. Hell, I don’t even have to pull out my own shit to get the party started, there’s a thick weed cloud hovering over everybody. There’s everything from Kush, AK-47, and White Widow rolling up in here.
“Goddamn. This shit is strong.” Adaryl waves her hand in front of her face. I sneak a peek over my shoulder to see her eyes droop. She’s about as fucked up as I am.
Lil Bit already has some nigga in her face, flashing his platinum grillz and rubbing his chest on her titties for a cheap thrill. Jealousy ain’t an easy monster to try and control. There was a time not too long ago when I was the first bitch in my clique to pull niggas.
“What can I get you ladies?” the bartender asks once we make it to the counter.
“Two Blue Muthafuckas,” I order and then glance around the club.
“What time you think Profit and them showing up?” Lil Bit asks, peeping at her cell phone for the time.
“I don’t know. They’ll get here when they get here.” Irritated, I eyeball the door.
The bartender sets down our drinks. “Here you go, ladies. Compliments of the house.”
“Well, all right now!” Lil Bit shrieks, slapping high-fives and reaching for her glass at the same time. My girl may be small, but the bitch drinks like a fish. I already know that I’m going to have to keep one eye on her while checking for my boo to arrive.
Off the bat, I see chicken heads grinding on a whole lotta bustas who ain’t gonna do nuthin’ but pour liquor down they throats, bust ’em out, and then call it a night. “These niggas are whack as hell,” I complain.
“You want to go somewhere else?” Lil Bit asks, bouncing in her chair to the beat.
I shrug and try not to sulk that ain’t no nigga approached me to dance yet. An hour later, Lil Bit and Adaryl return from burning up the dance floor while I’m sucking on my third drink and holding up the bar counter. Where the fuck is Profit’s ass at? I’m feeling like a real busta right now.
“Hey.You don’t think Profit is already here and is hugged up with some tricks back there?” I ask.
My girls bob their shoulders.
“Anything is possible,” Adaryl says, signaling the bartender for another drink. “I hear they have private parties back there.”
“Shiiit.” I’m out here for a party that I can’t get at?
My girls laugh as I stretch my neck as far as possible to see if I can catch a glimpse of Profit in VIP. “C’mon.” I hop off my stool and adjust my skirt.
“Where are we going?” Lil Bit asks, frowning up as another nigga eases up on her.
“To VIP.” I grab her by the wrist and drag her ass with me.
“Oooh. You finally gonna make a move?” she asks, grabbing Adaryl’s wrist so that we form a train.
I don’t answer because I ain’t sure of what I’m going to do. All I know is that I want to see Profit. When we approach the all-important gateway to VIP, Hennessey, with his big bulky ass, blocks our entrance.
“Where do you think you girls are going?”
“Where does it look like?” I cop as much attitude as he dishes out—but he ain’t having it. “Naw, shawty.You’re not on the list.”
“I’m on all the lists,” I correct him.
“Not until you have a couple of more birthdays,” he says, crossing his arms.
“C’mon, Qiana.” Adaryl grabs my elbow. “Let’s go.”
Annoyed, I jerk free with embarrassment scorching my face. “Do you know who my brother is?”
“Of course I do. That’s why I ain’t letting your ass up in here. This here section is for grown niggas ’bout to do grown-ass thangs.You and your girls can go back and hold up the bar or shake your ass on the floor, but what goes on in here ain’t for you.”
“What the fuck? Are you serious?”
“Don’t I look serious?” he asks, tilting down his shades so I can see his ink-black eyes.
“I’m the same age as Profit and you let his ass in.”
“Shawty, you’re seventeen and who said he was here yet?”
“Ain’t he?”
Hennessey shrugs. “Maybe—maybe not.Who’s to say?” He stretches his big baboon lips into a smile.
“Why, you big, greasy—”
“Qiana, let’s just go.” Lil Bit snatches my arm back.
“Listen to your little girlfriend there cause you ain’t gettin’ up here tonight, Qiana.”
&nb
sp; Me and this Godzilla muthafucka engage in a stare-off, while I fight the urge to fuck him up. In the end, I have to walk away with my tail tucked between my legs. To make shit worse, the niggas let the giggling bitches that was standing behind us switch they asses on through. I give Hennessey a What the fuck? look only for him to smirk at me. I toss him my middle finger and make a mental promise that the next time I see his big ass, I’m fuckin’ him up on sight.
Bottom lip sagging, I let Lil Bit drag me back toward the bar. Halfway through, one bold muthafucka steps in my path and causes me to slam into his chest and break the hand connection with my girl.
“Whoa, sexy,” his deep baritone rumbles above me. “Where’s the fire?”
Twisting a frown before I glance up, I’m ready to take my anger out on this dude, but my venom evaporates the minute my eyes fall on this sexy muthafucka. He’s six four, green eyes, honey-baked, and built like a heavyweight champion. My ass blinks a couple of times to make sure that those four drinks I had ain’t fucking with me. But this nigga gets finer with every blink I make. Dressed head-to-toe in white, the brothah stands out like a diamond in a pile of coal—with the name DIESEL tatted around his neck. That shit alone causes an extra gallon of honey to drip out of my honeypot.
When I don’t answer, his sexy, plump lips spread out into a smile. “What? Cat got your tongue, Scar?”
My anger blazes back. “Fuck you!”
That shit tickles his balls because the next thing I know his muscular arm wraps around my waist and pulls me up to his frame. Any other complaint I have dies when I feel this nigga’s anaconda rub against my wet panties.
“If fuckin’ is what you got in mind we can make that shit happen right here.”
Watching his green eyes twinkle, I realize this muthafucka is serious. Despite the desire rolling through me, I push at his chest, but the nigga’s hold doesn’t allow an inch to separate us.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
As much as my horny ass wants to jump him, my spidey sense is going haywire. “Ha. Ha, muthafucka.Who the fuck put you up to this?”
With his other hand, he puts a fat blunt up to his lips. His light green gaze turns pale blue while he studies me. Once he pulls the blunt away, he leans forward and tells me, “Open your mouth.”
Under a trance, I obey and cum instantly when he blows that sweet skunk into my mouth. That shit takes my ass to another level.
“You feeling that, baby?” His lips hitch up to one side because he already knows the answer.
“Who the fuck is you?”
“The man of your dreams, thought you knew.” This time he puts the blunt to my lips and tells me to “suck.”
Again, my ass follows his orders. In no time at all I’m so high I can’t feel my feet. Something in my belly starts fluttering when I watch him lower his head and open his mouth. Puckering my lips, I blow a steady stream of smoke back into his mouth. Before I’m done, he catches me off-guard and closes his mouth over mine. I’ve never tasted anything so sweet. Everything around me disappears.
When our lips part, I open my eyes and I am horrified to see that I got my arms wrapped around his thick neck and I’m grinding on him like I’m tryna to get his ass pregnant. Embarrassed, I spring back, but his hold remains firm.
“Where are you going, Scar?”
“Stop calling me that.” I mush the front of his head.
“What?” His lips stretch wider. “I like a roughneck bitch with battle scars. What’s your government name, shawty?”
I stare while I weigh whether I’m really mad. Cocky muthafucka is probably used to bitches falling all over his ass. “It’s Nonya. As in ‘none of your business.’”
“What if I made it my business?” His arm loosens.
I’m speechless on that shit.
“You got a man, Nonya?”
“What if I do?”
“I might take him out back so I can holler at him for a minute.” He puffs on his blunt again while he stares me down. “How old are you, ma?”
“Old a damn ’nuff.Why?”
“Why you think? I’m feelin’ you, but I ain’t interested in going back in the joint for bustin’ out no Girl Scout.”
“I’m definitely no Girl Scout.”
No lie, his blue eyes are now green again. Is his ass a human lie detector?
“Besides, I don’t know you and I only fucks with my people. You feel me?”
“Your peoples, huh?” His lips hitch higher. “So you are a gangsta bitch.”
“A gangsta diva, nigga.” I toss up my VL signs and wait to see what the fuck he’s gonna do next.
“Whatever, ma. Do you. I don’t play that follow-the-leader bullshit. I’m my own nigga. I look out for number one. You feel me?”
He releases me and I try to squash my disappointment as he turns and walks away. For some reason, I follow his ass all the way to a booth on the opposite side of the club where another brothah is whispering in another chick’s ear. When she looks up, my heart sinks.
“What the hell are you doin’ up in here?” Amira, a Flower that lives a couple of doors down from me, asks.
“I’m minding my damn business, tryna set an example for your ass,” I spit back at her. I know she ain’t dumb enough to drop dime on my game.
Diesel snickers.
“Whatever.” Amira shifts her glassy gaze between me and this new nigga before scooting out of the booth. “C’mon. Let’s dance.”
The nigga she’s with climbs out behind her. Diesel cocks his head up with another smile. “You know how to clear a table.”
I fight back a cocky smile.
He reaches for the Cîroc bottle on the table and refreshes one of the empty glasses. “So what’s up, ma? You wanna holler at an independent nigga now?”
“I hate to tell you but every nigga up in here is VL. Where you from?”
“ATL, baby. All day.” He pops his collar.
“You a long way from home.What—you get lost?”
“Just moved to town.”
“You chose to move to this muthafuckin’ city? What—you got a thing for graveyards or some shit?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. It ain’t so bad here.”
“You have pretty eyes, but clearly you’re blind.”
“I don’t know about that. I certainly like what I see in front of me. Who knows, you might even get around to telling me your real name.”
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I waver on what I wanna do about this nigga. Maybe I tease him for too long because suddenly his mood changes up.
“A’ight. Look. Let me help you out, ma.You can go ahead and step. I’m a grown man. I don’t play games.” He tilts up his drink.
My time has run out. I have to piss or get off the pot. “My name is Qiana.”
He nods and then repeats my name with his sexy baritone pouring over each letter. “Qiana.”
My ass is in love.
22
Trigger
This shit is like taking candy from a baby.
Things are falling into place just like my girl planned. The minute I spot Bishop in Da Club, I know just how to play his punk-ass. It don’t hurt that he ain’t that hard to look at neither. He’s a cross between pretty-boy and handsome, his swag is a little off point. He’s trying too hard to impress and exude power. If the rumors in the streets are to be believed, his pouting ass can’t handle the fact that his sister, Lucifer, is the one with the balls sagging to the ground. If he had a bitch like me, it would help knock that insecurity chip off his shoulder.
I’ve seen Lucifer a time or two. I wouldn’t mind getting a taste of her ass myself. Everything about her screams money, power, and respect. A few months back, she was slicing muthafuckas’ dicks off and jamming them down they throats. Shit like that gets my clit hard.
Yeah. I fuck bitches and niggas. I don’t give a fuck as long as I nut.
When Bishop finally spots me, I have an image of sexing him and his sister at the same time�
��that would be a nice VL sandwich.
The smile on my face is huge by the time Bishop pushes up on me.
“Damn, shawty. If you tell me that you got a nigga, I’ma have to put a bullet to his head on general principle.”
Whack. Holding my smile like a professional, I slide my hands down the front of his pants and grip his shit. Holy fuck! “I’m feeling you now, daddy.” From my other hand, I take a sip of my apple martini.
Bishop’s lips stretch wider. “Now this is what I’m talking about—a woman who goes straight for what she wants.What’s your name?”
“Sweet Pussy.”
He laughs. “Is that right?”
I nod. “You wanna sample?”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
I release the pipe in his pants and dip my finger into my drink. “Open up.”
On some zombie shit, he does exactly what I say and then I tip my finger into his mouth. He closes his thick lips around it. Instead of sucking, I feel his tongue rotate around it and then beat the tip like it was a clit.
Yeah. I gonna break this nigga off a piece.
Bishop releases my finger and eases his hand around my waist for a good grip of my round ass. “How would you like to go to a private party?”
“I looooove parties.”
His smile matches the size of mine as I allow him to lead me toward the back of the club. I spot my girls Shariffa and Jaqorya in the crowd and wink. Guarding the entranceway to the VIP is this big mountain of a dude who is in some kind of private competition to see how far he can stretch his belly. Bishop nods and the human blob steps aside.
“Ooooh, a baby boy with power,” I purr.
“All day, every day.”
We enter the VIP, but then stroll to the back of it where there’s another door that leads to a huge backroom. In the center is a large poker table and a cluster of slobs flagging gold and black.
Heads snap our way while Bishop escorts me through more thick clouds of weed.
“My nigga. My nigga.Where did you find that dime piece?” one slob with orange-red hair asks, checking me out like a CT scan.
“Roll your tongue back up into your mouth, son. I got this,” Bishop brags.
Gangsta Divas Page 13
