by Wahida Clark
“Lil’ crazy-ass nigga,” Looney said while laughing. “Let these people pass.”
“Aiight. Aiight.” Andre moved out of their way. He walked back over to where Rooster was.
Looney was now driving past them. He pulled over by them. “Be easy, lil’ homie.”
BoBo leaned over with a cell phone to his ear. “I wanna holla at you later too!”
“Yeah? You know where I’m at,” Andre said, locking eyes with him.
“What?” BoBo could not believe his ears. It was not so much his smart comment but the look he gave. BoBo shook his head and pointed his finger at him. “You lucky I’m on something.”
Andre wiped his forehead sarcastically as if he were relieved. Looney threw up the Stones hand sign and drove off. He laughed to himself.
“What’s so funny?” BoBo asked angrily.
“Hey. Don’t get mad at me. Lil’ shorty just standing on his. We was the same way,” Looney reminded him.
“Fuck that lil’ nigga! He gonna make me put a foot in his ass. Hardheaded lil’ muthafucka!”
Looney drove to his woman’s cousin’s house. Looney had been supplying him with drugs for the past couple of weeks. On the strength of Looney’s woman, Tracey, he was given a chance to prove his worth.
“What’s up, Looney?”
“Hey, this my man BoBo I was telling you about. BoBo, this is Jamal,” he said, introducing them.
BoBo gave Jamal a pound but still wore the mean mug from earlier. He did not say anything while they talked.
Jamal was dark-skinned, two hundred and fifty pounds give or take at five feet nine. At twenty-two years old, he had grown up in this neighborhood and knew everybody though he held no gang affiliations. He felt it was unnecessary.
BoBo saw him as a problem just waiting to happen. Unlike Jamal, he knew how gang politics went. Soon as the guys in this neighborhood got wind of him making money, they would be on him like sharks on bloody meat. He would be fair game since he was not a member of any gang.
After several minutes, BoBo felt as if he could be silent no longer. “So these niggas ’round here ain’t gone say nothing when you start making money?” BoBo asked, knowing what he would do.
“Naw. It ain’t like that. I know all them.”
“Chill out, BoBo. Jamal got this,” Looney said.
“Chill out my ass! I can’t stand no losses.”
Looney was agitated now. The way BoBo was making it seem, he was not his own man. He was just as much in charge as BoBo. They were partners.
“I’ma get up with you, Jamal. Be easy.”
“Aiight, Looney.”
Soon as they got in his truck, Looney began thinking of a way to get what he had off his chest without snapping out on BoBo. After about ten minutes, he turned down the music. “Check this out, BoBo. Let me handle mines. Just like I let you handle yours.”
“Exactly. I handle mines! Nobody else. I don’t know that lil’ fat muthafucka.”
“I’ma say this one more time. Let me do me. Aiight?”
“Whatever, nigga.” BoBo turned the music back up.
They rode in silence, both of them in deep thought. It was like that until Looney pulled up to BoBo’s car and they parted ways.
BoBo drove around awhile before deciding to head home. He checked his phone. Two people had called since he had been in the truck with Looney. The sounds had been so loud he hadn’t heard it ringing. One number was his home number. It had been Serena obviously. The other number he hadn’t seen before. It was in the area. He figured it might be a customer. He called it back.
A female answered. “Hello?”
“Who is this?”
“You called here,” she replied in a smart tone.
“Somebody trying to call BoBo?”
“Yeah. Serena want you to come pick up the baby’s bag she left over here.”
“What? Who is this?”
“This is LaLa.”
“LaLa from the park?”
“Yeah. When you coming?”
“I’m a couple blocks away. I’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up. The fact that Serena had been out with his kids added to his anger.
When he pulled up to her building, he called her again. “Bring it on down.”
“I just got out the shower. I can’t. Come up and grab it.”
“Meet me at the door.”
“I can’t. My pores is open.”
“Damn! Aiight, let me park.”
“I’ma buzz you up. Three B.” She hung up.
He parked and walked to her building’s entrance. It was a four-story, eight-unit building. He rang her bell and waited on the series of buzzes to gain entry to the inner halls.
When he reached her door it was cracked. He knocked anyway.
“Come in,” she called from inside.
He entered, closing the door behind him. He stood by the door. She came out with just a towel covering her, holding it in the back. He was shocked a little by her lack of clothing.
“Could you do me a favor?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“Put some lotion on my back?” She walked toward him with the lotion bottle in her hand. He was looking skeptical. She put some lotion in his hand and turned around. She let the towel fall to the floor to reveal her naked, glistening body. Bending over to pick it up, legs straight and slightly apart, she gave a full view of her apple bottom with a hint of her pussy.
“Sorry,” she said with a giggle. She held the towel to her chest and left the backside exposed.
He had never looked at LaLa in a sexual way before now. He had a full erection from standing so close to her naked body. He rubbed the lotion in his hands and began rubbing her back. Upon his touch, she leaned forward and stuck her behind out just a breath away from his dick.
He massaged the lotion on her entire back. “There you go.”
“Thank you.” She walked over to the couch and sat down. She began lotioning up her legs and feet. She opened her legs and exposed her womanhood, which was covered by a thick patch of fur.
He watched intently. He had to break his stare. “Where the bag at?”
“Oh yeah. It’s in there.” She pointed toward her room. The towel fell and exposed her perky 36C-cup breasts.
He went into the room as she got up to lock the door. She went to her room. He was looking around. There were pictures of Bianca on her dresser. BoBo’s mind reflected on the night that he and Looney had borrowed her car to go to the store. That’s the reason they gave her for borrowing it, anyway. Then they drove her blue 2000 Chevy Malibu to meet a guy who thought he was gaining potential customers. They robbed him of his two kilos of cocaine.
Not appreciating being beaten up and robbed, the man had gathered up some trigger-happy thugs and hit the Trey. Spotting the car, they unloaded five clips worth of bullets from their pistols into the car, where an unsuspecting Bianca and her girlfriend sat smoking a blunt. Bianca was left dead and her girlfriend, Shon Shon, was paralyzed from the waist down. Everyone had their theories of why it happened; however, other than the shooters, BoBo and Looney knew the reason.
“Where the bag at?” he asked, as if he was getting aggravated. He felt like this was a setup.
Her phone was ringing. She went to her nightstand and picked up the cordless phone that was sitting on its base. “Hello?… What’s up, Serena.”
Hearing her name caused BoBo’s heart to beat rapidly. Knowing he had no business standing in her friend’s room with her prancing around in nothing but a towel. She put her fingers to her lips, signaling him to be quiet, as if he would say something.
“All right girl, I’ma call you back… He ain’t came yet though… Don’t worry, I’ma make him come.” She placed the phone back on its charging base and threw the towel on the bed.
“What kind of games you playing?”
She walked up to him and was practically nose to nose with him. “Whatever kind you wanna play.” She began to kiss him.
Con
fused and aroused at the same time, he slowly took the lead. The initial shock of her being the aggressor wore off as his hands explored her body. The pear-scented lotion he had helped to spread over her skin diffused as their body heat rose. Kissing her lustfully, he guided her backward until her thighs met the bed.
Stopping his kissing momentarily, he took a step back and began unbuckling his belt. “This between me and you. Don’t have nobody in my business! Aiight?”
Instead of answering him, she lay back on the bed.
With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he climbed between her legs and inserted himself inside her. A moan escaped her mouth as he wasted no time in finding the nethermost regions of her womanhood. He roughly picked up the speed of his pumps in and out of her. BoBo’s viciousness turned her on. She wailed out in ecstasy, encouraging him.
The sloshing sounds her pussy made as his dick plunged into its wetness was music to his ears. She bucked away from him as if he were more than she could handle. The thrill of a new conquest added to obvious satisfaction and brought him to the point of no return quicker than he wanted. He tried to think of cars racing, dogs fighting, all who owed him money, anything besides his balls slapping against her butt cheeks as they were at the moment. Several seconds later, he was slumped over her body with all of his energy poured into her.
At that moment the guilt of his betrayal started to seep in. Why did he just have sex with his woman’s one and only friend? On top of that, without a condom? What if she went back and told or told someone who did? Was she worth losing Serena for? Of course not, if she would fuck Serena’s man. The questions kept coming.
She got up and got him a towel. He wiped up and left with the baby’s bag.
BoBo could not believe the string of events that had taken place over the past few weeks. LaLa, Serena’s friend, had thrown herself at him and he had caught more than a handful. Although he had felt like it was a setup, he accepted a serving anyway. He had been helping himself to LaLa’s servings since then. His guilt quickly subsided.
Andre had gotten on his last nerve. His smart comments had caused BoBo to hit him in the jaw. He had to admit he admired the young guy’s spunk. Andre had actually hit him back. Having to prove himself to a fifteen-year-old was the last thing he thought he would have to do that day. Tired and out of breath, he still had to showcase his skills. A few of his comrades had told him that he was wrong for it. But, like he told them, if you let the youngsters get out of hand, all hell would break loose.
He and Tasha had hooked up a few times. She was sprung on him. He tried to punish her for the way he hated her boyfriend. Alpo was a known member of the Gangster Disciples, who happened to be the main rivals of the Black P. Stones. Even though he dogged her, she seemed to love him for it. Each tryst he had with her, he thought that maybe she was setting him up for her man. He loved living life on the edge. Most of the things he did were for the thrill or excitement of it.
Business had picked up. He and Looney were making more money these days and, just like BoBo had told him, Jamal had caused problems. He stayed in a Black Disciple neighborhood. They were another street gang that were opposite the Stones. They got wind of Jamal’s selling in their hood and robbed him. It was as BoBo predicted. Jamal was not a Stone nor was he trying to become one, yet, on the strength of Looney, BoBo found himself engaged in some out-of-the-neighborhood beef. In his eyes, Jamal was a fat coward who was not worth a quarter.
Carla had proven her worth once again. She had lured the young baller into a hotel with a promise of not only some top-notch cocaine but also some grade-A sexual satisfaction.
The plan had been for her to get the guy naked and comfortable. BoBo would bust in and pretend to have been watching her and plotting on sticking her up for the longest. When he kicked in the door, Carla was on top of the young baller, moaning in pure ecstasy as she rode him. Jealousy enraged BoBo and he played his part a little too well.
“Don’t move, muthafuckas!” he yelled, entering with his gun pointed at them. He walked over to them where they lay frozen. The shock had scared the young baller’s hard-on away. BoBo punched Carla, knocking her to the floor. “Watch that bitch, breed. She move, shoot her ass in the leg,” he told his masked partner in crime. Breed was a nickname that members of the Black Gangsters called themselves. They were yet another rival gang of the Black P. Stones. If any retribution was to come for what they were doing, BoBo wanted it to lead in his enemies’ direction.
“I got her, Gangster,” the guy BoBo had brought along told him as he aimed his pistol in her direction.
They hog-tied the young baller and Carla. They were naked and defenseless, and a few smacks from BoBo and Carla pretended to break down and tell where the imaginary drugs were at in her car. BoBo had to show the young baller, who was trying to play the tough-guy role and not give up so easily, that it was not a game.
“Hand me that duct tape, breed,” BoBo asked of his partner. He went to the bathroom and got a face towel. He took it and stuffed it into the guy’s mouth and taped it. He got down by the guy’s ear and whispered, “Now this is gonna hurt you more than it hurts me.” He stood and let out a menacing laugh. The baller’s eyes widened as he wondered what BoBo would do.
BoBo grabbed his ankles and dragged him into the bathroom. Without any concern he lifted him and dropped him into the bathtub. The muffled screams could be heard through the duct tape.
“Awww! Stop the bloodclot crying, tough guy,” BoBo mocked in a Jamaican accent. He turned on the cold water and plugged up the tub. He flipped the guy over onto his back. He whistled the beat to the Game and 50 Cent’s “This Is How We Do” as the tub filled. When the water rose above his legs, BoBo turned it off. “You cold, tough guy?”
The baller nodded his head up and down. BoBo took his hand and scooped water in his face. He jerked to the side, hoping to dodge the cold water.
“Good! Now I’ma ask your ass one more time. Where’s that money?” He then snatched the duct tape from his face.
“Ahhhhhh!”
“Shhhh! Keep it down, muthafucka!” BoBo said sternly.
“M-m-m-m-man, I’m t-t-t-telling you I a-a-a-a-ain’t ga-ga-ga-ga-got no m-m-m-m-m-m-money,” he stuttered badly.
BoBo went into a rage. He hit the guy in the jaw and viciously began stuffing the towel back into his mouth. He wrapped duct tape around and around his head as the guy gagged. “You still think this is a game, huh? Fuck it! Die then!” He pulled out of his pocket a stun gun. He pressed the button and the current from the voltage showed. The guy shook his head wildly side to side mumbling what sounded like “Wait.” The water was turning brown beneath him as the foul smell of human waste filled the air.
“You stanking muthafucka! I should kill your ass. What? You got something to tell me?”
The guy nodded his head frantically.
“It’s about money, I hope.”
He was still nodding. BoBo unwound the tape from around his head and mouth. He was so shook up, he hardly stuttered while telling BoBo how to operate the stash spot in his car to get to the twenty thousand dollars hidden inside.
BoBo dragged him back into the room. He took the guy’s keys and asked him which ones he needed. “Watch them. I’ll be right back.”
The money was where the guy had said it would be. Taking it, BoBo put it in their getaway car. When he returned to the room, he thought about the torture he had wanted to inflict upon the guy. It was more to soothe his jealousy than anything else. Having gotten what he came for, he and his guy left with Carla and her friend still hog-tied. But not before giving his stun gun a test run. He placed it to the baller’s nuts and laughed as the guy shook until he passed out. While laughing, BoBo then placed it on Carla’s ass and gave her a couple of volts.
The sun was out and beaming. Since it was a Saturday, the park was the place to be. It was not packed, however there was a nice amount of people out. BoBo stood under a tree kicking it with a few other guys. They were cracking jokes an
d reminiscing about how it was back in the day. A group of young guys walking a couple pit bulls came past them. BoBo had his back to the guys with the dogs. The first person in the crowd of youngsters he noticed was Andre. An uneasiness came over him. He was not sure why. It was as if Andre had crept up on him.
“All is well?” one of the guys sitting under the tree asked the group of teenagers.
They all gave each other the Stone handshake. Everybody except Andre and BoBo.
“What y’all lil’ niggas on?” one of the older guys asked.
“Shit. Just walking the security,” one of the guys with a dog answered.
They made small talk for a minute.
“It’s hotter than a muthafucka out here!” Andre said, then raised his T-shirt to wipe his face. The butt of his pistol showed, sticking up from his waistband.
“That’s from all that heat you carrying,” another older guy joked.
Andre as well as the rest of the youngsters laughed. “Let’s ride out, y’all,” he told the group.
They said their good-byes and walked past. BoBo was mad but did not feel he could show it. He felt like Andre was silently taunting him. Which he was.
Hours went by and more and more people came to the park as the sun set. It was almost dark outside when the ground began to vibrate tremendously.
“Damn! Who is that?” a female asked.
“I don’t know, but they beating,” her female friend answered.
BoBo and his crew wondered too. These sounds were louder than anyone’s around the neighborhood. They were getting closer and closer. A moment later, a Cadillac Escalade EXT with a sky-blue metallic paint job and twenty-six-inch spinning Davin rims turned the corner and all eyes were on the truck. It slowed down by the crowd where BoBo and a group were standing, then stopped right in front of it.
The tinted window eased down as the music was turned down. A dark-skinned guy with a bald head and a face that would remind you of a chubby Michael Jordan spoke to the crowd. “Is BoBo out here?”
Guys reached under their shirts and in their pants.
“Who the fuck is you?” one of them asked.
“Whoa. I ain’t on nothing.” He showed both of his hands. “I’m just trying to get up with him. Tell him Alpo came through.” He then raised the window and drove off. He pumped the music back up.
