“Tangy, relax,” Kenya urged, patting her shoulder trying to ease any impending tension and reassure her. “I called him and he’s on his way.”
“Yeah, when he get out the next bitch’s pussy, with his scurvy self! Everybody knows that nigga a player!”
“Hey, baby, let’s go over here and wait.” Insecure with the next female consoling her woman, Vanessa tugged at Tangy’s tatted-up arm. “I’ll get you a soda until we hear something.”
Before that could happen, O.T. causally strolled through the emergency sliding doors with no great urgency as he chopped it up on his cell phone. Tangy broke away from her girl and recklessly flew up into O.T.’s face as if she had wings.
“Nigga, where in the fuck was you when my cousin needed you?”
“Bitch! If you don’t get ya little steaming hot dragon breath out my face I’m gonna beat the brakes off you! Ya heard me!” His face frowned up that someone, a female no less, was jumping bad with him. “Don’t you see a pimp is busy?”
“I ain’t scared of ya pathetic-ass!” Tangy continued to rant pressing her luck as her arms waved wildly causing a scene. “You ain’t gonna do shit to me!”
“You can strap a plastic dick on all ya want, but, Tangy, you ain’t no dude! So get ya ‘once a month bleeding wish the fuck ya could piss standing up’ ass the hell away from me before I forget you’s a bitch!” O.T. didn’t move one inch or even end the call he was on.
“Or what?” Tangy boldly challenged getting closer in his face as the people sitting down looked on. “What ya gonna do?”
“Listen, carpet muncher! Ya better go on over there and kick it with ya girl before I stick my dick up in her again!” He blew Vanessa a kiss.
“What!” Tangy swole up looking at O.T. then Vanessa then back to O.T. “What the fuck you talkin’ ’bout?”
“Listen, baby.” Vanessa tried explaining. “I—”
“Oh, you didn’t know? Don’t get it twisted!” O.T. taunted, cell phone still pressed to his ear. “I hit that about a month ago when you was locked up and thanks to ya non fucking with a dildo-ass the pussy was tight as a son of a bitch! So every time you eating that cat, you’s really sucking my dick!” O.T. jerked at his pants. “I had ya girl calling my name all night long! Ain’t that right, Vanessa?”
“Please, y’all!” Kenya tried mediating. “Leave it alone, O.T. We all here for Paris remember?”
“Naw, sis, naw. Tangy wanna be a man so bad,” he ridiculed. “So let her man up and deal with the fact her old lady was calling me daddy, begging me to tear that thang up!”
Tangy instantly got caught in her feelings and sucker-punched O.T. in face. He laughed at the lightweight hit, but responded quickly. Just as Kenya predicted: absolute undeniable chaos. Fuck the security guards who weren’t anywhere to be found no way. Having had enough, not holding back one bit, towering over her, O.T. angrily blew Tangy’s mouth out with ease just like he’d done her cousin’s a few hours earlier. Temporarily losing her balance, falling onto one of the vending machines, she shook the punch off taking it like a true champ. Tyson and Ali would’ve been proud!
Petrified knowing full well she was in the wrong, Vanessa rushed over to intervene on the potentially dangerous confrontation before her hot-tempered, relentless five foot three gladiator woman really got her ass kicked and she had to slice O.T. up to prove her love.
“Please, Tangy! Leave it alone!”
“Yeah, like I was saying,” O.T. resumed his phone conversation not missing a beat, “I’ll check it out for you.”
When he finally ended his call, he pulled Kenya over to the side near the water fountain finding out exactly what over-the-top dramatically designed stunt his attention-starved now ex-girlfriend Paris had done this time. Shift change had just taken place when the weary doctor emerged from behind the closed doors with an update on Paris’s condition.
“It was touch and go for a while, but we have her stabilized. She’ll be moved to the ICU then probably to the mental observation ward.”
“Doctor, can I see her?” Tangy spoke nursing a fresh semi-swollen lip. “I’m her cousin.”
“Yes, but only for a few minutes.” The doctor subsequently looked toward O.T. “Excuse me, are you her husband? She kept calling out for you.”
“Naw, Doc, I ain’t the one. I’m just a dude the dumb chick used to know.” O.T. callously headed for the door now knowing Paris would live. “Come on, Kenya, I done wasted enough time! Let’s roll! Storm wants me to drop you by the crib.”
“I always hated my little cousin being with your dirty behind!” Tangy angrily said wanting to still fight.
“Bitch! Get the hell on before I bend you over and give you some of this good dick too.”
“You ain’t shit!” Tangy shouted back. “And it ain’t over!”
“Men ain’t about nothing!” Vanessa cosigned with her girl knowing they would beef later about O.T.’s claim.
Kenya wanted to stay and see Paris, but the harsh realism was Storm obviously had played Houdini with Chocolate Bunny and now she could deal with the predicament between him and her sister. Before leaving the hospital, Kenya made Tangy promise to call her later with an update. Much to a jealous Vanessa’s disliking, she stood back as the two females embraced comforting the other.
Daybreak had already come when Kenya got home. Finding Storm stretched out on the couch snoring, also drained herself, she decided to let it go for the time being. Standing in the doorway wanting to get a glass of orange juice before going to bed, she couldn’t seem to bring herself to go into the kitchen, let alone open the refrigerator and be forced to stand on the spot London claimed she was raped. Instead, Kenya kicked off her shoes and went up the stairs.
Barely finding the strength to pee, she let her track pants fall to the floor as she sat on the toilet. After unzipping her jacket Kenya practically threw herself in bed burying her body underneath the sheets. Since it was Monday and the club didn’t reopen until Tuesday night, she settled in for some much-needed rest and an escape from reality.
Chapter 5
Da Mornin’ After
London
The cloudy skies brought about more tears and frustration. It was mid-evening and London still hadn’t heard from her sister. Not that she really expected her to call after the crucial bombshell she dropped the night before but she still held out hope. O.T. had stumbled in just a few hours earlier giving her an update on the Chocolate Bunny saga as well as informing her on the details of Paris. London, even though she hated his woman, was still shocked. When he said that he was gonna be staying in the adjoining room she wanted to tell him, hell naw! But since he paid for the suite, she really didn’t have a choice. Plus at this point, she truly had no overwhelming desire to be alone.
In between the nasty, obnoxious sounds of him grunting and passing gas in his sleep and his loud vibrating cell phone, which was constantly going off, London couldn’t think nor go back to sleep. Unpacking her suitcase, she made herself temporarily at home. Following a long, hot soul-pleasing shower, she wrapped up in the thick hotel robe and ordered room service for the second time that day. Staring at the phone that sat on the nightstand, she picked up the receiver and got an outside line. Slowly dialing the number, London rubbed her stomach waiting three long rings before the only friend she seemed to have left in the world answered.
“Hello.”
“Hey! I need to come home,” London cried.
Royce
“I wish that stupid idiot we running around here calling boss would just wise the fuck up.” As the clouds darkened and the rain showers poured, Marco drove his green low-key van through a huge puddle of water that was starting to form. “That ho of his probably in Vegas soaking up the sunshine.”
“Yeah, you right.” His boy smoked a blunt and reclined his seat even farther as the long hours dwindled. “And he got us out here in a damn thunderstorm pounding the pavement. Twenty minutes more of this dumb shit and you can drop me by the crib!”
It was 6:45 in the evening and Royce had still yet to hear from Chocolate Bunny. He had every one of his crew on the hunt, checking afterhours spots, riding through the parks and staking out the mall and hair salons. Royce knew his woman was no angel, but she had a good heart with every intention of changing for the better. This baby Nicole was carrying was gonna be a fresh start for her and him. She’d finally have someone in her life who loved her unconditionally, never mind the kid was a forever meal ticket; and Royce, who was pushing into his late sixties, could prove to the younger cats who surrounded him that he was still very much vital and true to the game.
Having a young girl swinging from his arm, even if she was a slut, and possessing a direct line to Javier, one helluva of a strong drug connect, made him feel strong and infallible. Yet and still, not knowing anyone in Chocolate Bunny’s immediate or distant family to contact he’d no choice but to sit idle and wait for her to call him. With the clock ticking and still no word, he called O.T. giving him the third degree for the fifth time.
“Yeah! Speak on it!” O.T. moaned.
“Hey, man, it’s me.”
“And?”
“Have you heard anything yet?”
“Damn, I done told ya the last time ya called and the time before that I ain’t talk to her! I don’t patrol the next nigga’s pussy! Ya feel me!”
“This don’t make no kind of sense.” Royce waited for O.T. to feed off into his conversation. “Nicole wouldn’t just not call. Not now anyway! It don’t make sense!”
“I’m ’sleep,” was all that O.T. muttered in response.
“Well have you at least talked to ya sister-in-law?”
“Naw, dogg! And I done told ya I’m ’sleep. Is you hard of hearing? Now if you wanna call Kenya then that’s on you. But for now I’m out! Peace!”
Before Royce could even get a chance to say one more word, ask one more question, he heard the line go dead. Bad as he wanted to take O.T.’s advice and ask Kenya himself, he couldn’t swallow his pride. She still despised him since their fight having him permanently blackballed from Alley Cats. Even though he made money and was a major player around those parts, the club was still technically as well as legally her turf. And just as Royce’s old luck would have it, ever since Storm’s complicated return from the island, Royce had no direct number for him.
Storm
I can’t believe I banged London. Storm laid on the couch wiping the sleep out his left eye. That explains those flashes of that shit in the kitchen. Moving to the right eye, then stretching out his arms, he strangely started reliving the incident London was now calling rape. As the reoccurring memory of her foreign body squirming around to meet his every full-force thrust and of course getting tangled up in the fact of realizing he’d gotten some new pussy, Storm’s dick stood at full attention and hard as a rock. He was in deep shit with Kenya for having sex with London, even though it was unintentionally, but that didn’t stop him from being a man. Damn, not only did I fuck sisters, I fucked a set of twins! He glanced over at the staircase momentarily before slipping his hand down in his waistband gripping his manhood. As his fingers tightened and his stroke speed increased, caught up with busting a nut, he shamelessly imagined both twins sucking his dick. Damn, y’all. Damn. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Make daddy cum.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, he knew he was wrong as two left feet and being a dog, but shit, the fantasy he’d concocted was all in the pursuit of him getting that early morning hit. Bingo! It was done!
With no regrets heading upstairs, Storm stuck his head inside their room where he saw Kenya’s silhouette sprawled out in the bed. While she was sleeping peaceful, bright glimpses of lightning blinked through the curtains and the heavy rain knocked against the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony. He knew she had a long night and was worn out so he tried to respect that. With no intentions to wake her, Storm quietly walked passed on his way to jump in the shower. Damn, she looked good.
Not being able to help himself, he paused once again getting another hard on. The thin beige silk sheet that was once on Kenya’s entire body had fallen to one side of the mattress showing him a clear view of her perfect ass, which had his named tattooed in blood red ink on her left cheek. He knew once again he was wrong, but as much as he fought the feeling he couldn’t help himself. Dropping his boxers to the carpet the shirtless Storm climbed in bed with his woman.
Wrapping his muscular arms around her, he slid his dick in between the crack of her ass. Kenya was still fast asleep, but out of habit subconsciously poked out her booty to meet his every movement. Storm took that as an open invitation, flipping her over, sticking just the head of his dick inside of her wetness. Caught in her dreams and still exhausted from the night before, Kenya unknowingly moaned slightly as her body relaxed excepting all of Storm, who pushed harder. Panting and grunting in her ear he started fucking like there was no tomorrow in sight.
Yeah, London, give it to me! Storm’s mind freakishly focused on Kenya’s twin sister. I know you want this dick, so open up! He couldn’t understand why that shit was making his thang so hard, but at that point he didn’t care. I’m about to cum! I’m about to cum!
“Storm!” Kenya woke up coming to her senses realizing that shit she was feeling was not a dream. “What in the hell do you think you doing?”
“Hold on, baby!” He tried to keep his pace up humping. “Don’t move.”
“Nigga, please!” Kenya in a rage pushed him off her covering herself with the sheet. “Are you crazy or what?”
“Damn, babe, I was almost there. Lie back down and stop tripping for one more minute.”
“That’s nice for you, motherfucker, but it ain’t that damn easy. Did you forget you had sex, naw, I mean raped my sister?”
“Naw, I ain’t forget about that shit.” Storm still had a hard dick, secretly knowing that was all he could think about this morning.
“Well.” Kenya pulled the sheet off the bed draping herself with it as she stood up going to the other side of the room. “Now what?”
“Babe, let me take a shower, then we can figure all this bullshit out. I promise.”
“Okay,” Kenya agreed ready to put stuff in its proper perspective.
Five long, difficult, grueling hours of back-and-forth discussions, arguments, and disagreements, breakups, makeups, and finally some sort of a solution, the couple was ready to face London to hear her take on what truly happened. Calling his brother’s cell phone to get the room number he and London were staying at, Storm waited for an answer.
“What the fuck is it now?” O.T. bellowed believing Royce hadn’t got the message.
“Slow ya roll, boy! What’s that all about?”
“Oh dang, my mistake, bro.” O.T. looked at his watch. “I thought you was that fool buster Royce. He keep calling stressing me about that missing bitch of his.”
“Well, he straight wasting his time worrying about her. She ghost now!”
“I feel ya, but that junk was foul.” O.T. tugged on his morning heavy dick. “Chocolate Bunny had some good head on her!”
“Well, now she ain’t got no head at all!” Storm being sarcastic looked over at Kenya and smiled. “Dig, dude, I know it was fucked up, but I ain’t about to let my girl do no time. No matter what!”
“Ya right.” O.T. got out the bed to take a piss. “And I know Paris’s dumb-ass would’ve gone bonkers if she had to do one day behind bars. She already nutty as five fruitcakes!”
“Well, dawg, let me get to the point. Where’s London?”
“I think ya baby momma is in the other room on the phone.”
“Cut it out!” Storm fell back on the couch. “This mess is crazy.”
“You telling me! She been around here throwing up all night and half the morning.”
“Damn!” Storm hated the chaos he’d created.
“Damn is right. What you gonna do?”
“Well first off, me and Kenya is gonna come over there to chop it up. What room y’all in?”
“Man, I gotta make a few runs, but don’t come up to my room with that loud arguing and bullshit you and ya girl is famous for.” O.T. laughed. “Trying to perform illegal abortions and shit!”
“Fuck you, nigga!” Storm laughed back at his brother’s twisted sense of humor. “You’s a fool!”
After finding out the number, Storm and Kenya started getting dressed. An hour and a half later, they were out the door.
London
London ran her fingers through her damp hair as she lay back on the bed in distress. “I can’t take it here any longer!” she whined. “I’ve made such a mess of things.”
“What happened?” Fatima asked her best friend.
“First of all, I want you to swear that you won’t judge me.”
“Come on now, London. You know we’re better than that.”
“I know, but what I’m about to tell you is gonna sound crazy.”
“Just tell me,” Fatima insisted sounding concerned.
“Okay, here goes.” London exhaled. “A few months back, Kenya’s man was drunk and came down to the kitchen where I was at.”
“Okay, then what?”
London, feeling humiliation, continued. “He must’ve thought I was Kenya, because he grabbed me and threw me down on the floor.”
“Oh, hell naw!” Fatima yelled. “You lying!”
“Nope, it’s true. Then he raped me.”
“What! What! What! Oh, no!”
“Yeah, Fatima,” London sadly confessed. “And that’s not the worst part of the story.”
“How can it get any worse?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“By Kenya’s fiancé?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God! What did she say?” Fatima quizzed not believing what she’d just heard. “Is he in jail?”
“No, he’s not in jail. Matter of fact, he’s denying the whole incident even took place.”
“London, that is so messed up! I see why you want to come home.”
“Yeah, I know it is.”
No Home Training Page 4
