“But wait, you still didn’t tell me what your sister said. I know she pissed at his ass!”
“She’s so busy being in love she can’t see or think straight. She said I’m making the whole thing up because I’m jealous.”
“Wow.”
“Last night I told her the truth about what happened and she kicked me out her house.”
“And where is he at?” Fatima was pissed.
“He’s still there with her.”
As London and Fatima talked, making arrangements for her to fly back to Detroit, O.T. came out the other bedroom fully dressed with a smirk on his face. He took his keys off the dresser then rudely interrupted, not even bothering to say excuse me.
“Hey, girl!” O.T. spoke in a hurry. “Your sister and your baby daddy about to come over later to talk or kick ya ass.” He couldn’t resist clowning her. “But any way it go, I gotta shoot a move but I should be back before they get here so I can referee or at least get Kenya off of you.”
“Shut up and get out!” London tried covering the phone’s receiver so Fatima wouldn’t see how badly she was getting disrespected until he finally left.
Chapter 6
Oh, It’s Like Dat
O.T.
The intense pouring rain didn’t stop O.T. from driving into a carwash and using the sprayer to rinse the terrible stench from inside of his trunk. After putting the guns in a safe place and throwing all the stuff he’d pissed on out in a dumpster, he didn’t get time to at least squirt some disinfectant before Kenya had called him about Paris. By the time he’d left the hospital and dropped Kenya off at the condo, he was done, wanting to do nothing more than sleep.
Purchasing a good damn near twenty wild cherry tree air fresheners out the machine, O.T. tossed them all in his trunk then sped off toward Royce’s main re-up house. After him bugging the shit out of him all day about the last time he actually saw or talked to Chocolate Bunny, he knew it was about time he saw him face-to-face to play the shit off. It would look way beyond suspicious if he didn’t at least say something to the worried man.
O.T. listened to the radio as he plotted what he’d say. He had to make it somewhat good, but by all means believable. And thanks to Chocolate Bunny and her jaded past, she made it easy and convenient. If all went as planned, he was gonna lead Royce to believe that all along his woman was cheating on him, seeing some rich white dude from Cali she’d met at Alley Cats. And since Royce and most of his crew were banned from there, he wouldn’t be able to dispute whether it was true. Besides everyone knew Royce was so caught up, so blinded, and so far gone behind Chocolate Bunny’s pussy even if the lie was a 100 percent authentic none of his fake loyal soldiers would risk their jobs or position to be the bearer of bad news.
As he slowly bent the corner and pulled up two houses down parking under a huge tree, he looked in his rearview mirror seeing Marco, Royce’s right hand henchman, standing on the porch smoking a cigarette. The loud, cracking sounds of thunder filled the air as O.T. put his game face on. Yeah, this was it. Not giving a fuck about getting his wheat-colored Tims wet and stained in the heavy downpour he got out the car and sprinted, heading up the walkway. “Hey, guy.” O.T. nodded his head. “The old man inside?”
“Naw, dude. You just missed him.” Marco blew the smoke from his cigarette out. “He just bounced.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Marco kept it short.
“Damn, as much as he was blowing up a nigga’s phone I thought he would’ve been here posted.” O.T. studied Marco’s expression to see if he could peep out what Royce’s mind set was.
“Please don’t tell me dude was on you too about that slut.”
O.T. now had the answer he was looking for. Royce was panicked and his team was loose lipped. He took that as his opportunity to plant the seed and lay the groundwork. “Yeah, the old man say he can’t find her.”
“Just between me and you, O.T., that tramp somewhere on the beach sipping on some big, fruity drink with a stupid umbrella in that motherfucker!”
“Yeah, man, I feel you.” O.T.’s plan was working itself out. “We both know Chocolate Bunny be doing her thang!”
“Dude, I’m telling you, I don’t know what’s wrong with Royce’s mind. Maybe he got Alzheimer’s or something.” Marco thumped his still lit Newport into the wet bushes as his dreads hung over his face. “One day he on top of his shit then that dirty ho come around and he jumps all off his square.”
O.T. stared out into the rain as he let the young cat get all his frustrations and complaints about Royce out in the open. Damn, he’s bugging and straight dry snitchin’ on Royce!
“Yeah, man. That guy so gone over that female you ain’t never gonna guess where he on his way to now as we speak!” Marco, who normally never liked O.T. and the power he possessed on a day-to-day basis, to be able to speak to Royce however he wanted to without consequences, now seemed to act as if they were best friends since kindergarten.
“Where is that?” O.T. stayed brief with his responses.
“That old bitch nigga done broke the number one rule to this here game we playing!” Marco pulled a blunt out his pocket and blazed it up. “He straight pussy whipped!”
“Naw? Are you sure?”
“Hell yeah! He went to the damn punk-ass police for help!” He deeply inhaled then choked as he chopped it up with O.T. “He down there right now probably crying like a baby making a missing persons report on a slut who don’t even wanna be found!”
This shit is about to get real twisted now that fool done went to the cops, O.T. thought as he listened to Marco get angrier and more disloyal to Royce as the showers increased, the storm intensified, and the clouds darkened. “Where you get them trees from?” He prolonged the spontaneous little pow-wow to see what other information would slip out. “They smell righteous. I need to cop some of that.”
“Well yo, gimme ya number and I’ll hit ya the next time the Mexican dude falls through. His ounces be tight!”
“All right, that’s a bet.” O.T. gave Marco his cell phone digits to lock in then decided to leave before he seemed to nosey. “Well, dude, I gotta be out. Tell Royce I came through whenever he gets back from his little adventure.”
“Bet, not a problem. And yeah, until Chocolate Bunny shows back up you can just holler at me for the package.” Marco was really feeling himself. “I’ll be holding for now on out!”
“I’m good on all that, li’l man, just tell your boss I fell through.” O.T. cut their conversation in the bud.
A now furious Marco, with burning blood in his eyes, watched O.T. run off the porch in the heavy downpour, jump in his ride, and skirt off. Who the fuck he think he is to be ordering me around like I work for him? He let the purple fill his lungs as he got higher and more delusional. Shit, if things go as planned, in a few weeks, I’m gonna be the damn boss! Shit, maybe his boss!
Royce
Feeling lost with nowhere else to turn, Royce, this time of his own free will, walked through the doors of the police station. Wearing a green and yellow pants suit that was soaked from the rain and a pair of two-toned snakeskin shoes, he went up to the front desk.
“Yes, can I help you?” The female officer on duty looked over her glasses.
“Yeah, you can.” Royce nervously out of habit combed through his beard. “I need to file a missing persons report.”
“Okay. First of all, how long has the person been missing?”
“Ever since last night.”
“What time last night?”
“The last time she called me was at two-thirty.”
“Two-thirty in the morning?”
“Yeah, when she got off of work.”
“Okay, sir.” The officer became judgmental as she took notice of all the gold bracelets and huge gaudy diamond pinky ring that graced his hand. “It hasn’t been a solid twenty-four hours yet, but I guess I can at least still write up an inquiry. What’s the person’s name?”
“Nicole Dani
els.”
“And her relationship to you?” She wrote in black ink on the report pad.
“She’s my woman.” Royce looked around hoping none of the dudes he conducted business with saw him come in.
“And her date of birth?”
“Sometime in March.”
“You don’t know the exact date?”
“Naw, I don’t.”
“Well, what’s her approximate age?”
“She’s twenty-two, naw, I mean twenty-three.”
“And you said this missing person is your woman or your daughter?” the shocked officer antagonized glancing back up as she realized the despicable and appalling age difference.
“My woman I said!” Royce took immediate offense to her statement.
“Well, are you sure she just didn’t run off somewhere with some of her friends?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Okay then.” She giggled under her breath as she continued to gather information. “And where was she the last time you spoke to her?”
“She was in the parking lot at Alley Cats.”
“Alley Cats?” The officer’s demeanor took a serious, unprofessional turn. “You mean the sleazy strip club Alley Cats?”
“Yeah, if you wanna call it that.” Royce heard a lot of commotion going on outside of the front doorway and once again hoped it wasn’t involving any street colleagues he was aquatinted with.
The female officer, whose husband had left her and their three small kids for a young stripper who worked at that very club, grew infuriated. She couldn’t believe that this drugstore-dressed pimp had the nerve to be standing in front of her being so stupid as to believe that a common pole swinger could be loyal to anyone, let alone his old behind. She contemplated even taking the complaint wasting taxpayers’ money on foolishness.
“What’s a number you can be reached at if we hear anything?” she grunted.
Giving the officer all the contact numbers he had, Royce crept toward the exit praying to duck back out as quietly as he’d come in. When the glass door slid open, two burly officers struggled bringing in a girl in handcuffs who rammed Royce with her shoulder.
“Get the fuck out my way, old man!” she screamed out.
Royce didn’t want any added attention so he left without saying a word.
Tangy/Vanessa
“Dang, how could you?” Tangy recklessly stormed through the tiny one-bedroom apartment. “I was locked up ninety damn days behind some dumb bullshit you got me caught up in and you fucked somebody else?”
“Would you just listen to me?” Vanessa begged.
“Listen for what? You’s a tramp! Bottom line!”
“Tangy, please!”
“Get the fuck away from me before you piss me off again!” Tangy slammed the kitchen cabinet causing a chalk sketching of the once blissful lovebirds had taken at the park to fall off the wall and shatter.
“I said I’m sorry.” Vanessa followed her angry girlfriend around trying to plead her case. “Let me explain.”
“What is it to say?”
“The car note payment was twelve days past due, the lights were about to get cut off, and I had an eviction notice. What’d you want me to do, be put out on the streets?”
“Naw, I wanted you to do exactly what you did! Fuck my little cousin’s man!”
“I said I’m sorry!”
“You could’ve grabbed your dance bag and hit a couple of clubs before you went out like that.”
“Yeah, Tangy, you right, but I needed the money real quick and O.T. looked out.”
“Ho, get off his nuts and out my face!”
Ever since returning home from the hospital, Tangy was busy packing all her belongings. Having had enough of Vanessa time and time again betray her, she opted to end their relationship once and for all. Vanessa, on the other hand, was trying everything in her power to keep her woman at home.
“Is this your CD or mine?” Tangy fumed going through their music collection.
“Why you being so petty?
“What?”
“You heard me!” Vanessa knocked the disc out her hands and stomped it. “What about us?”
“Us? Us? Bitch! Wasn’t you just with O.T.? Didn’t you just have his nasty-ass dick inside you?” Tangy yoked her up slapping her twice in her face. “So get the fuck on!”
Vanessa held her jaw in pain as the tears rolled down. “I already let you jump on me this morning and I ain’t hit you back, but you ain’t gonna keep dogging me!”
“Oh yeah?” Tangy let her jealous fury loose for the second time that day, back slapping Vanessa across the room. Then socking her into the brass and glass bookshelves she started kicking her.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Tangy’s cell phone started to go off bringing an abrupt halt to her rage. Knowing that it could’ve been the hospital with information about Paris, she went to the other side of the small living room answering the call.
“Yeah, hello.” She panted out of breath as Vanessa lay balled up crying.
“Hey, chick, it’s me, Kenya.”
“Oh hey, Kenya!” Tangy grinned knowing the mere mention of that name would make Vanessa infuriated and pissed. “How you feeling today, baby doll?”
“I’m good.” Kenya thought nothing of Tangy being affectionate because she always was. “Me and Storm headed out in this rain to take care of some business, but I wanted to check in. How’s Paris doing? What’s the latest?”
“Well, sweetie, the doctor moved her to a semi-private room so they could observe her and run a few more tests, but if you want I can swing by and pick you tomorrow up so me and you can visit Paris together.”
Out the corner of her eye, Tangy watched Vanessa crawl in to the other room. She quickly turned her back against the wall so she could be ready when Vanessa returned probably with knife in hand ready to slice some shit up. After five or six minutes more of talking to Kenya, strangely enough to Tangy, the usually overly aggressive Vanessa hadn’t come back out in the living room or even made a sound. Making sure to promise to call Kenya back later, Tangy hung up. A few seconds later there were several loud knocks on the door.
“Who the hell is it?”
“Police! Open up!”
“What!”
“Police! Open this door!” They banged harder as the frame shook.
“No, this stankin’ bitch didn’t call these hoes!” Tangy sucked her teeth smashing a glass mirror with her fist.
“Police! Open the door!”
Before Tangy knew it Vanessa flew past her, flinging the front door wide open and she was face down on the carpet, a knee pressed in her spine, being handcuffed.
“Oh, it’s like that? How you gonna play me? You know I’m still on paper!” Tangy wrestled as the officers hauled her down the stairs roughly dragging her body through the wet, uncut grass forcing her to lie by the squad car tires. “Now you can get back with O.T., you dirtball skank! Fuck you and him!” were her ultimate vindictive words before they tossed her inside slamming the rear door shut. “Y’all both got it coming when I get out!”
Vanessa, feeling like she’d gotten revenge for that ass kicking and Tangy out of Kenya’s grip stood smugly in the picture window holding a wet washcloth to her face.
When the officers reached the precinct intake center, Tangy’s tirade and attitude had gotten worse. As she was being marched inside, the wild, masculine female bumped, mean mugged, and vulgarly cursed everyone in her path, even an old pimp obviously in distress.
“Throw her in the back holding cell until she calms down!” the female desk sergeant demanded. “I’ll let the detectives deal with her in the morning!”
Showdown . . .
O.T. drove up to the hotel’s parking complex just as his brother was paying the valet.
“What up, dude?”
“Nothing. Just came from out Royce’s way. That buster already done went to the cops.”
“Oh no!” Kenya worried. “That’s fucked up!”
“Y
ou gotta expect somebody to look for her.” Storm hugged his girl as they all went inside the lobby. “But calm down and trust me. They ain’t gonna find her!”
Approaching the room, Kenya started to shake. She knew that when it was all said and done, London was still her sister, but now she had her man’s baby growing inside of her womb. With anticipation building from Storm also, O.T. tapped his fist on the room door, informing London it was him. Scared herself, she cracked it peeping out before stepping out the way so her visitors could come in.
“I see you dressed.” O.T. was the first to speak.
“Yeah,” London muttered barely looking up from the plush carpet as she plopped in the chair.
Storm and Kenya took seats on the couch, while O.T. went to the minibar fixing himself a drink. “Well, y’all. Let’s get down to it.” O.T. turned his glass up taking a quick swig then placed his hand on London’s shoulder. “My homegirl here is knocked up and me being her unofficial self-appointed savior wants to know what in the hell you two plan on doing about it.”
Kenya was livid by the lack of respect he was showing to her plight. This wasn’t easy for her. Matter of fact it was the hardest pill she thought she ever had to swallow. “Why you playing so much? This is my life!”
“Yeah, mine too.” London gathered the courage to speak.
“Then talk!” O.T. laughed guzzling the rest of his drink.
“Okay then,” Kenya obliged. “London, what exactly happened that night?”
“I already told you.”
“Then tell me again.”
London, for the first time in months was completely honest about her feelings. She shyly confessed the truth concerning Storm’s drunken condition and his delusional belief that she was Kenya that late night. Letting her twin know that Storm was calling her name repeatedly when they were having intercourse, then blacked out, reassured Kenya that her man was telling the truth and really didn’t remember shit. Although London maintained the fact Storm had forced himself on her and he was too powerful for her to fight off, she still accepted full responsibility.
No Home Training Page 5
