“I said, what the fuck was that?”
“Practice,” he replied not bothered at all by the fact that I had a gun to his head. “Put that thing down before you hurt yourself.”
“Practice?” I yelled. “Practice? I could have been killed!”
“Exactly,” Braxton said, hopping on the interstate. “No better way to practice than in a real-life situation. Now put that gun down . . . please. I’m on your side.”
“How are you on my side when you want to see me dead?” I asked, slowly lowering my weapon.
“I knew you weren’t going to die.”
“How?”
“You have Pat Pat’s blood in you. I saw the fire in your eyes the moment I met you. You don’t even know it yet.”
“Know what?”
“You were bred for this. You killed a nigga, and I bet you don’t even feel bad about it. Word of advice, though, if you plan on getting close enough to Marco to kill him, head shots only, ma.”
I was silent for a second because he was right. I killed somebody, and the only thing I felt was a growl in my stomach because I was hungry again. I shook my head, trying to get the dead kid’s face out of it.
“How did you know they were there?” I asked. “DBD, I mean.”
“They been around setting up shop in all our old trap spots,” he said. “And the only reason they know the locations of them is because—”
“Marco is telling them where they are,” I finished for him. “Damn. That nigga is older than me and still being childish.”
“We used to be coo,” Braxton told me. “He asked me to join his little movement, teach his people everything I knew.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“You don’t bite the hand that feeds you,” he answered simply. “Pat Pat always been like a mom to me. She took me in when I was twenty-one and new to the state. She found me asleep at a bus stop the day after I got into this savage brawl. I broke a nigga’s neck with my bare hands. To this day, I don’t know what made her stop for me, but she asked me if I wanted a job. I asked her what she needed me to do, and she said ‘protect me.’ Ever since then, that’s what I’ve been doin’. I’ll body an entire group of niggas behind Pat Pat.”
“That’s deep.”
“As fuck,” he agreed, getting off the interstate. “That’s why when she asked me to train you to take her place, it wasn’t a question.”
“Wait, train me to take her place? That’s not what she told me.”
“I know,” he said, pulling into the parking lot of a business. “But if she would have told you that she was training you to be the new Queen Pin of Houston, I guarantee you that you wouldn’t be in this car with me right now.”
“If she would have told me that she was sending me to put in work already, I wouldn’t have been in this car with you either.” I cut my eyes at him, and he shot me back a sly smile.
“Actually, she don’t know that I took you on that hit with me. I was supposed to handle that before I pulled up on y’all.”
“What?”
“Yeah, so don’t tell her that,” he said opening his door.
“Where are we now?”
“Where I was supposed to take you, the gun range. Put that 9 back in the glove compartment. The registered guns are in the trunk. I hope you’re ready, because you’re not leaving here until you’re a pro.”
“Can we go get some food first?”
“You think Marco is going to wait for you to get some food when he has an automatic pointed at your head and an extended clip?”
I sighed deeply and put the gun back where I pulled it from. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter 5
“Oooh, Daddy! It’s been forever since you fucked me like that!”
The woman lay her head on her man’s shoulder whirling her fingers around the short hairs on his chest. She was in love, and the feeling that he gave her was a blissful one. Sabrina Tillman looked up into Marco’s sexy face and sucked his bottom lip one more time.
“Girl, you better stop before Daddy gives you round four,” he joked and kissed her forehead.
“I won’t complain,” she said lowering her eyes at him. “You know I’m always down to fuck.”
“I wish I could slang this dick for you one more time,” Marco said, sliding over so her head hit the pillow, “but I gotta go. There’s a few things that I need to tend to today, and I already took half the day off to lay up with you.”
Brina pouted and stuck her bottom lip out. The high she still had from the two lines of coke she’d snorted was still on ten, and her pussy was throbbing to get hit one more time. Marco had always been the only man who was able to fulfill all of her sexual desires. Since she’d met him all those years ago, she could honestly say he was the only man to dive into her sea of gooey love since. Well, besides her own fingers occasionally when he was out handling business.
“OK, baby,” she said and sat up in the bed to watch him get himself together.
Marco was like wine. He was the kind of man that got better with time, and she couldn’t help but to twirl her finger on her clit, watching him throw his clothes back on. She loved when he didn’t take a shower after they fucked. She enjoyed when he left the house with her scent still on him. It made her feel like she had left her mark.
“Mmm,” she moaned as her fingers worked magic between her thick brown thighs. Her pussy was a little hairy that day, but Marco never minded a little hair in his food. “Marco, you are so sexy.”
“You still think that way after all of these years?” Marco paused to watch her. He thoroughly enjoyed when she pleasured herself.
He was starting to regret that he was fully dressed. He could see that her already-wet pussy was starting to soak. She nodded her head to his question and stroked her own clit until her back arched on the bed and a stream of juice shot from her pussy. Her loud moan filled the room, and he felt his manhood grow. Quickly shaking the thoughts of diving back in her to see what her new ocean felt like, he completed getting dressed.
“Marco,” Brina whimpered to herself with her eyes shut.
When she opened them, she expected to see Marco still standing there, but instead, she was looking at a wall and an open bedroom door. She hated sharing her husband with the streets; however, she loved all of the money he brought home. She enjoyed living without a worry, so the streets were the only bitch that she was willing to share Marco with. Sighing, she got out of her comfortable bed, grabbed her Victoria’s Secret robe from her closet, and put it on. She hadn’t even been out of the master bedroom of the home she had made with Marco before she felt someone run straight into her legs.
“Mommy! Mommy! Can I have lunch now? Daddy just left and told me to ask you for a sandwich.”
Brina scooped her five-year-old pride and joy, Demarcus Jr., into her arms and hugged him tight. In her entire life, Little Marco was one of the things that she had done right. After what she and Marco had done to his ex-girlfriend Jackie, she couldn’t say she felt bad about fighting for her man, but she knew that the woman getting fifteen years in prison wasn’t right. But she shrugged it off because at the end of the day, she was her own priority. Marco kept his promise to her and moved her to Houston, Texas, and loved on her ever since. When Little Marco was born, it was the best day of their lives. Marco finally had the heir he always wanted. She looked into her son’s eyes and smiled at how much he looked like his father. Little Marco was still in his pajamas, which she was OK with since she didn’t plan on going anywhere that day. When she placed a kiss on his forehead, she inhaled and smelled the strong scent of maple syrup.
“Smells like you tried to make yourself something to eat,” she said and blew on his neck, making him cry out in a fit of giggles. “Come on, so I can make you a sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, like always?”
* * *
Marco held his cellular phone to his ear and listened to the other end ring. While he was beating down Brina’s walls, he had missed several cal
ls from his partner, Roy. He was in the car on his way to his second house that he used as his place of business. It was also the place that he did his dirt without Brina knowing. It was actually the house that he lived in at one point with Jackie. He told Brina that he’d gotten rid of it, but truth be told, he never put it on the market to be sold. The phone rang three times before he heard the deep voice of his best friend answer the phone.
“Where the fuck you been at, bro?”
“I was handling some things at the crib, what’s poppin’?”
“Nigga, somebody got us.”
“What?” Marco felt the alarm well up in his chest.
“The house you just set up over there in the old hood, nigga. Every soldier in that bitch is bodied. I don’t know who got us but—”
“Nigga, what the fuck you mean you don’t know who got us? It could only be one person! That bitch Patricia is tryin’a get back at us for that salon shit.”
“That’s what I was thinkin’ too, but ain’t shit been proven yet, boss.”
“It don’t gotta be proven,” Marco snapped with boiling blood. He didn’t realize how hard he had suddenly started to grip the phone until his right hand began to throb. “It’s only one other person besides me and my dad who knew of the trap’s existence. Tell everyone else who set up shop in my pop’s old spots to pull back for now. We need to regroup.”
“On it, my nigga.”
“All right, I’ma get at you later.”
He disconnected the call and tossed the phone on the passenger’s seat. Gripping the steering wheel, he let his memory drive him because in all honesty, he didn’t see anything that was in front of him. He saw nothing but red. Patricia had done nothing but stand in his way since the day his father met her. Antonio had fallen victim to the pussy when he was the one who always told Marco how dangerous it was to fall in love. Maybe that was why Antonio brought her from his bed and made a seat for her at his table. It wasn’t until Antonio died that Marco knew that he was not the heir to his father’s empire anymore. He found that out at the repast when the lawyer came to read to them Antonio’s will. His father had left him a small fortune, but Antonio had left his entire estate to his wife, Patricia. That meant everything. The businesses, the stocks, the houses, the cars, and that also meant she was in charge of the cartel. Her. A woman who he hadn’t even known half of his life. It infuriated him to the point that he stormed out of the home he was raised in and hadn’t been back since.
The war was started out of spite. There could only be one ruler of Texas, and it would be a king, not a queen. Marco formed DBD to show everyone what happened when the wrong hand was bitten. At first, they started off with petty crimes against her, like robbing and setting up people in her camp. But then the crimes got bigger and more malicious. When they took over the salon, Marco counted on the fact that the last thing Patricia wanted to do was get the law involved. The salon was always the final drop of the week for all her illegal funds. That hadn’t changed since Antonio was alive. When Marco made DBD raid the building, it was before any of those funds had been removed, and that made it the perfect setup. Because of the hostage situation with her employees, Patricia had no choice but to allow law enforcement access to her establishment when people lost their lives. Marco figured for sure that he had her where he wanted her. His thirst for power and reclaiming his rightful place on the throne caused him to suffer the worst loss in the war so far, however. Somehow, someway, the illegal drug money wasn’t there when the building was searched. All they had were a couple of thugs who had just thrown their lives away for nothing and the dead bodies of the innocent.
He should have known that Patricia wasn’t going to let that situation fly and should have been standing on ten toes. All he knew was, he would be smarter next time. He’d gotten the message that Patricia was trying to send, loud and clear. But he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop until her heart did.
“I’ma kill that bitch,” he said pressing harder on the gas pedal of his BMW. “If it’s the last thing I do.”
Chapter 6
Six months later . . .
“Let me see what the fuck these niggas talkin’ ’bout in this bitch,” I said to myself stepping out of my Porsche.
I was in a spaghetti strap black crop top that showed off the huge diamond in my belly button with a long flowy black skirt. On my head was one high jumbo braid that came all the way down to my hip. Burgundy peep toe heels stabbed the concrete as I made my way into the hotel that I was at to meet a potential new connect. With me were four men from my camp who were there to simply ensure my safety. One of them was carrying a briefcase as we all walked to the elevators together. I personally didn’t like the venue for the meeting, simply because I naturally went into every situation with no trust. If I needed to pop off, I couldn’t without being seen. The risk of being thrown back in jail for some bullshit was just not something I was willing to risk.
In the months that had gone by, my mind was given time to catch up with my body. Things weren’t the same on the streets as they were when I was just a girlfriend. Back then, kids respected their OGs just off their title. Now, you had to brandish your pistol for a mothafucka to hear you.
“Jackie, I’m going to teach you what I had to learn by myself,” Aunt Patricia had said to me after I’d been working the blocks for her for a few months. “You’re a woman, but not only that, you’re an older woman. A lot has changed, and the streets don’t move the way they used to. Don’t be scared to body anybody for disrespectin’ you, understand me? These niggas feed off of weakness, and they’ll try to get you before you get them.”
At the time, her words were just that . . . words. But with each day of me moving around in the streets, I found the truth in what she was saying. If Braxton hadn’t been with me during a couple of drops, Lord knows what would have happened to me. I was still learning the game and getting a grip on how it went, but being in a sea of sharks meant I had to learn fast. However, it only took me six months to get used to my newfound position. My presence was one that brought chills, and the way I viewed the world was completely different. Gone was the timid girl who let everyone walk over her, and welcomed was the grown-ass woman that would put a bullet in the brain of anybody who tried her. The streets knew me as JO the Ruler because that was exactly who I was. No product entered the city unless it went through me first. Houston was such a hot market for drug trade right then, and anyone with some work wanted theirs to be distributed throughout the city. That’s why I was at the hotel that night. It was kind of like a job interview. In these interviews, I would test the product presented to me, and if it’s good, I’d put an offer on the table.
Bzzz! Bzzz!
I took my cell phone from my burgundy clutch and answered it when I saw who it was.
“Hello?”
“You inside?”
“Just walked in. Getting on the elevator now,” I told Braxton. “You positioned?”
“Yup,” he responded. “My snipers have the perfect view of the balcony too. If anything goes wrong, we’ll start droppin’ ’em like flies. How you feelin’?”
I pressed the button that would take me to the seventh floor where Leon Sanchez’s presidential suite was. When he asked his question, I instinctively glanced in my clutch to check on the two extra clips I had in it. My pistol was strapped securely on the inside of my left thigh, waiting patiently to be unleashed from its holster.
“I’m coo,” I said. “I’m just trying to get this shit over with. Can we get some Chinese tonight? I’m starving.”
“You’ve been talkin’ about Chinese food all week,” he laughed.
“I know, and after tonight, I’m sure I’m going to deserve some.”
“Yeah, yea. You just make sure that you secure that bag.”
“And if I do, what you gon’ get me?”
“I can show you better than I can tell you,” his voice lowered with his words, and I smiled.
“Uh-huh. We gon’ see,” I said
, still smiling when the elevator doors opened. “I’m up here now. Showtime.”
I disconnected the phone and put it back in my clutch. Then I stepped off the elevator with my goons, and we walked down the hallway toward room 736. Even if I didn’t know where to go, it would have been obvious. A Mexican security guard stood on either side of the door wearing black suits and sunglasses. If I didn’t know this was real life, I would have burst out laughing. They looked like the CIA or some shit, and when they saw me, the hard expressions on their faces didn’t change.
“Business?” one of them asked me and eyed my security.
“JO. Leon is expecting me.”
When I stated my name, both men shot each other confused looks. The same look that always came across a nigga’s face when they found out JO was a girl. Like I said, in six months, I put in so much work, I’d surpassed the people who had been in the game years before me. Aunt Patricia would joke and say I was a natural-born hustler, but in all actuality, the streets were all I had. She breathed new life into me when she got me from Trudy’s, and at first, I was intimidated. But after that first day with Braxton, everything just came naturally. The goal was not to only secure the bag, it was to secure the entire empire.
“Welcome,” the other security guard finally said and granted me entrance to the room.
When I entered, I didn’t pay attention to any of the bells and whistles of the suite. I wasn’t there to drool over how nice the kitchen area was or to take a selfie in the bathroom mirror. I was there for one reason, and that reason was out on the balcony sitting at a table waiting on me. I walked with my head high, ignoring Leon’s goons glaring at me when I passed them. Only two of my men came on the balcony with me, while the other two kept an eye on Leon’s people. It was almost nine o’clock, but that night, Houston was still warm. There was a table for two outside on the huge balcony, and I saw that Leon was sitting there smoking a Cuban cigar.
Girls from Da Hood 12 Page 20
