“London, I’m not playing with ya ass! Open this motherfucker!” O.T. ordered pulling on the door handle as other drivers looked on.
Traffic let up slightly and temporary the cabby was able to escape the attack on his vehicle, moving up three or four yards before stopping again. O.T., forced to run alongside the car, was now even more agitated and determined for London to get out.
“Should I call the police, Miss? I don’t want trouble!”
“No, no, just wait!” London was confused on what to do next. “Let me just crack the window and see what he wants.”
“No! If you want to argue with your boyfriend, take your belongings and get out the cab! Please!”
Bam. Bam. Bam.
“I’m done with the games!” O.T. promised with cer-taintly in his voice. “Now get out this fucking cab and let’s go home!”
“Leave me alone!” London begged trying to press her body over to the other side of the seat her suitcase was occupying.
The driver knew that his cab would surely have more damage he would’ve doubtlessly been responsible for paying if he continued to let what he believed to be a late-night/early morning lovers’ quarrel to go on. He then made the cowardly decision to unlock the rear door giving O.T. full and complete access to his now distraught passenger. Hearing the clicking sound and the quick motion of the cab’s door being flung open, London got chills not knowing what to expect next.
“Hurry up before this traffic starts to move or some of these nosey suckers call the damn cops!”
“Get your hands off me!” London screamed as she was being manhandled across the cracked imitation leather seats.
“Or what?”
“Don’t touch me!” She tried squirming away.
“Come on with the dumb shit, Miss Lady!”
“Who do you think you are? Leave me alone!”
“Shut the fuck up with all the dramatics and let’s go!”
O.T. reached over retrieving the suitcase with one hand as he made London step out onto the curb with the other forcefully marching her to his car.
“Okay! Okay! Just stop yanking on my arm! You’re hurting me!”
“Well come on!” O.T. loosened his grip tossing the luggage in his vehicle’s back seat. “Where’s the bag?”
“What?” London tried in vain to hide the worn, ripped sack behind her back. “What are you talking about?”
“Cut the act, girl, you better than that. If I’m out here, snatching ya black-ass out this damn cab, you know I already know! So just give me the mystery bag with them burners, climb ya silly pregnant-ass in the car, and let’s ride!”
“Where are we going?” London looked straight ahead out the windshield, arms folded, embarrassed O.T. knew the whole awful truth. “Because I’m not going back to Kenya’s!”
“Don’t worry. I don’t think ya ass wanted back over there anyhow. And besides all that, where was you on your way to with these guns anyway?”
“Nowhere!” London sadly realized she really could’ve turned her own flesh and blood in to the authorities. “I don’t have anybody else here in town I even know.”
O.T. started the car and drove off dipping onto a dimly lit side street several blocks over, and parked. Turning off the headlights he instinctively ducked down as the red and blue flashing lights of a police squad car flew past in the direction they’d just left. Carefully easing in an upright position O.T. grabbed the burners as he stepped out. Hitting the button release popping the trunk, the seasoned lawbreaker cleverly hid the guns in a small corner section that he had designed for such an occasion. The stash box, which was under a few old oil-stained football jerseys, covered by two spare tires, jumper cables, and a rusty jack, was ideal.
Making sure no one in their right mind would want to touch or disturb anything in the trunk he pissed across the entire contents. Even though the smell would start to reek when the trunk got heated it was the lesser of two evils. Smelly trunk or catching several cases! You do the math! Fuck the cops! And fuck them finding two guns he knew for sure had more than a couple of bodies on them; he’d scrub his shit out later! For now it was time to ride! Hopping back inside, he stared at London who was crying hysterically coming to terms that her once perfect life was now shot to hell.
“All you females going nuts tonight! It must be a full moon!” O.T. rubbed his chin taking his cell phone off his hip. “Let me at least tell Storm and Kenya I got them thangs back. Then I’ll figure out something.”
“All right.” London sobbed into her shirtsleeve as she watched him make the call. “Thank you.”
Meanwhile, Back at the Condo . . .
Kenya slammed the front door almost off the hinges before turning around eagerly to resume her tirade and once again get off into Storm’s ass. “Now back to you!”
“Please, sweetie! Just listen!” He clutched his hands together wishing all of this was just an awful nightmare and he would soon wake up to a home-cooked breakfast in bed. “I swear to God I don’t know what happened!”
“How can you honestly stand here and take a damn cop to the bullshit? Either you fucking nuts or you think I am!” Kenya insisted. “Whatever the case my sister is pregnant! Now is you the father or what?”
“Okay, okay, okay.” Storm attempted taking her hand to lead her to the couch. “Can we talk quietly?”
“You mean as quiet as you and London was when y’all was banging right beneath my nose? You mean that quiet?”
“Please, baby!”
“Don’t call me baby ever again! You can save that title for your unborn child. Now tell me what in the hell exactly happened and when! And you better tell the truth or I swear!”
Storm sat down and tried to relive that disastrous night months ago. He now knew why London had done a 360 when it came to the way she looked at him or the way she’d speak to him when they were alone. It all made painful sense. She, not Kenya, was the first one to get a taste of his hard pipe the night he discovered he could get an erection again. He remembered being hung over the next day with a headache pounding hard enough to knock the average man on his knees. That was the day to, the once self-made kingpin, came to the realization he’d had enough of feeling sorry for himself and others pitying him.
The cards were dealt so he distinctively played his hand the best he was raised to. Now, bingo! Just like that, in a snap of the fingers, at a drop of a dime, he was back where he started from, fucked in the game. London was again the ultimate cause of his life to be in utter turmoil.
“Okay, baby. I mean, Kenya,” he caught himself. “All I can recall was that night I had gotten real drunk. You were gone to the club and London was here. I do think I remember that much.”
“And, don’t stop,” Kenya demanded, taking a seat across from Storm, rolling her eyes. “Then what?”
“I was thinking about you all that day. I was hoping that you wouldn’t get tired of me and the fact that I wasn’t hitting you off in the sex department like I used to.”
“Humph.” Twisting her neck, sucking her teeth with ghettoness expertise that would put most gutter rats to shame, Kenya urged him to continue. “Where is this going?”
“You know back then I was drinking heavy and popping them painkillers like a motherfucker.”
“So!”
“So all them chemicals in a nigga’s body seriously fucks with his brain and shit! Plus, damn, I thought my leg wasn’t gonna never be right.” Storm got on the defensive as he tried to momentarily flip the script. “That stuff had me bugging most of the time and acting a straight fool! I was half out my mind most the damn day and all the nights back then!”
“And what exactly that got to do with having sex with my sister?” Kenya stood to her feet passionately pacing the room tired of the back-and-forth word game she and he were playing. “In a hot minute I’m about to go psycho on your ass if you don’t just tell the truth.”
“I’m trying, but remember, Kenya, the truth don’t come so easy in this house!”
/> “Nigga, please don’t bring that way back when shit up! You better try harder!” Kenya threatened picking up a small but heavy marble statue. “I’m done playing!”
“Damn! I am. Just go easy!” Storm reasoned. “The whole incident is cloudy in my mind. Somehow I must’ve mistaken her for you and let her seduce me or something.”
“She seduced you? London? My sister?”
“Yeah, you should hear some of the slick shit she be kicking when you ain’t around. If I really raped her, why she ain’t call the damn police? Shit, we all just finished eating dinner earlier! I’m telling you, Kenya, ya sister been on a mission.”
“Well it seems like mission accomplished around this bitch! And why this the first time I done heard about her supposedly chasing behind you?”
“I love ya, girl! I’d never do anything to hurt you.” Storm eased his way over to his fiancée trying his best to embrace her. “I love you.”
“Oh, hell naw! Get your hands off me!” She was strong, not shedding one single solitary tear even though she felt like her inner soul was ripped out her body. Her fatigued frame trembled as she remained firm. “Don’t touch me!”
Storm dropped to his knees pleading with her for forgiveness. Not too proud to beg or cry he started back on the blame game. “Listen, babe!” He wrapped his arms around her waist while trying to press his head against her stomach. “I’d never do anything intentionally to hurt you. You my world! Your sister is making all these allegations about me and I don’t even really remember shit! Matter of fact, how you know it’s even true? She probably was lying just to get back at you for having my back.”
Kenya’s arms dropped down at her side and she released the statue letting it hit the carpet. As she let her fingertips rub the sides of her blue jeans feeling every fiber, she closed her eyes praying that he was right. “What am I supposed to believe?”
“Well think about it.” Storm looked up toward Kenya’s eyes. “If London really is knocked up, you know nine outta ten it’s my brother’s baby. You already know how they do what they do!”
“I guess.” Kenya started to move her hands and slowly wiped the tears from his face. “I just don’t know why she would do something like that. My sister ain’t even cut like that.”
Storm, relieved he’d temporarily dodged the bullet persuading Kenya to calm down, got onto his feet kicking the statue, and would-be weapon, to the side on the sly. Holding her face close to his he kissed her on the forehead. “Listen up. I know this ain’t over and I swear we gonna get to the bottom of her lies, but for real, for real, we need to go down to the club and see what’s what, ya feel me?”
“But—” Kenya hesitated not yet ready to let the heart-wrenching subject go so easily.
“But nothing.” Storm reached over grabbing Kenya’s car keys off the floor and headed to the door. “Your sister done lied on me and started all this madness. It’s because of her my leg is fucked up and my ear is deformed! She ain’t doing shit but trying to drive a wedge between us. Now we’ve been through too much to let anybody do that shit! So come on, baby, let’s get down to Alley Cats before it’s too late! I’ll drive!”
“Yeah, okay,” Kenya finally agreed knowing Storm would make the Chocolate Bunny situation go away. After all she’d committed murder. Even if it was to save Paris’s life, nevertheless it’d be considered coldblooded murder of that skank and her baby.
Chapter 3
Truth Be Told
Controversy
“What up, my dude?”
“Shit, on our way down to the club. Did you handle that for me or what?”
“Yeah.” O.T. glanced over at London who was still a mess. “I got them in the stash and ol’ girl sitting right next to me.”
“That lying bitch!” Storm blurted out trying to further defend himself in front of Kenya. “Fuck her!”
Kenya was still heated at her twin, but sick and tired of Storm and O.T. dogging her sister out. After all, Storm was right and had made a good point. She could’ve been just lying to get back at her. And considering all the drama she’d brought into London’s once simple barely complicated life she did have it coming. “Y’all can stop speaking about her like that!”
“She ain’t nothing but a troublemaker. Now I see why you kept the tramp a secret!”
“Listen, Storm! That’s my blood!”
“Yeah, she the same blood who was about to turn you in to the rat-ass police,” he condescendingly lectured.
“What the fuck ever!”
O.T. had enough of hearing the two of them argue. “Hey, hey! Y’all can do all that nonsense later. Where y’all want me to take ol’ girl? I got moves to make myself.”
“She ain’t welcome or wanted back at my crib!” Storm harshly proclaimed as he drove.
Kenya took a deep breath and angrily snatched the cell phone out Storm’s hand. “Let me talk to my damn sister!”
After a brief second and urging from O.T., London stubbornly got on the line. “Hello.”
“London,” Kenya hissed. “Why you take those guns out my house? What was you gonna do with them?”
“I don’t know.” London puzzled. “I just—”
“And not only that. Why’d you lie on my man? You know y’all didn’t have sex! He don’t want you!”
“What! Is that what he told you?” London screamed making O.T. take notice. “Well he’s partially right, we didn’t have sex! He raped me!”
“He raped you!” Kenya shrieked in disbelief at her twin’s outlandish claim.
“My brother did what?” O.T.’s reaction was instant shock. “Come the fuck on!”
“Yeah, that’s right. Your precious man is nothing more than a cheating animal on the prowl. He held me down and raped me on your kitchen floor in front of the refrigerator!” London informed her sister as well as O.T. who was for once quiet. “I didn’t want to do it! He made me!”
“Let me get this straight!” Kenya seethed with burning hatred as her stomach started to churn and her hands shivered. “You saying Storm forced his self on you? Is that right? Just like you claimed your college professor did?”
London was getting fed up. She was truly innocent having had just about enough of all the insults, attacks on her character, and now dragging things up from her past. “Not that the two incidents have anything in common maybe except the fact that both the guys are slime balls, your man assaulted me! On Gran’s grave I promise!”
“Well he said he ain’t touched you! Let alone take the pussy!”
“And you believe him?”
“Well, he said that.”
“Stop taking up for him, Kenya!” London begged wiping her face with an old piece of balled-up tissue out her purse. “He got you wrapped around his little finger!”
“He said he ain’t touch you!” Kenya unconfidently repeated as she watched a nervous Storm grip up on the steering wheel as small beads of sweat started to form on his forehead.
“Stop saying that lie! I’m telling you what happened! He grabbed me from the back and knocked me down on the floor! I even scratched him across his neck trying to get him off me!” The aggravated twin ranted with rage. “But since you so busy defending his no-good butt, we’ll just wait and see what happens in a few months then that’ll convince you who’s telling the truth.”
“Stop lying, London! Why you doing this?”
“I know you weren’t trying to major in anything but boys when you were in school and, Kenya, I’ve always known you aren’t the smartest apple in the bunch, but you can trust one thing for sure, DNA don’t lie!”
“Naw! It ain’t true!” Kenya trapped in denial finally let go all her tears. “You lying just trying to break us up! You lying, London! You lying! You just jealous ’cause I got a man and you don’t! You always wanted to be me!”
“Here’s a few words of advice my naive two-faced twin sister, instead of worrying about me and my baby breaking you two up, you need to be concerned with the judge breaking y’all crimina
ls up when they arrest you for murder and him for all that drug dealing.”
With that exchange, a frustrated London folded her arms after handing the phone to O.T. who took it back, shutting it slowly, never saying a word as he drove off.
Bottom Line Is . . .
“How did you get that scratch on your neck?” Kenya turned her full attention back to interrogate Storm who now knew he was busted.
“What scratch? Don’t let her get in your head!” He tried downplaying the million dollar question. “I don’t know what you or her talking ’bout!”
“That one!” She pointed, deliberately digging her nails deep into his skin as she twisted his neck to reveal the obvious.
“That shit hurt!” He snatched back trying to keep his eyes focused on the narrow road. “You bugging!”
“Naw, you is! You did fuck her!” Kenya balled up her fist socking Storm hard as she could in the side of his neck causing the car to cross the lines into the next lane.
Pulling over to the side then slamming on the brakes he charged over at Kenya smashing her face against the passenger window. With his palm painfully pressing her cheek, his fingers tangled up in her hair. Holding his woman there as she helplessly gasped for air struggling to break free, Storm laid his law down. Kenya could feel his angry lips touch her ear as he spoke.
“I don’t know what the hell happened that night with your damn sister, but I do know I’m a fucking grown-ass man and you ain’t about to just keep putting your hands on me disrespecting a nigga like I’m not! So sit back, shut the fuck up, and know your role!” he hissed as his breath grew hotter. “Let me handle this situation at the club you and Paris created! Then we can deal with whatever! You understand?”
Kenya bossed up and determinedly refused to respond as the window her face was crushed against started to fog up and get misty.
“Did you hear me!” Storm demandingly applied more pressure while waiting for her answer. “I know you hear me talking to you! Don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she finally muttered in a whisper, barely loud enough for him to make out. “I heard you.”
No Home Training Page 2
