Jumping in Keisha’s badly-in-need-of-an-oil-change-and-new-tires truck, Rico backed out the driveway. With Keisha’s gas money for the week tucked in his rear pocket, he proudly pulled up at the weed spot, where the dice game was going on.
Yeah, good! Everybody still up in this piece throwing ’em! Leering through the vehicle’s tinted window, Rico grinned with contentment. Wiping the chicken grease from his lips and the crumbs off his pants, he downed the last of his energy drink. Snatching his cell off the passenger seat, he was more than ready to go inside.
Parking behind Swazy’s car, Rico knew with the wild shit he was about to show the fellas inside the trap house, it’d be one of those explosive what-in-the-fuck moments Negros in the hood lived for. He would no doubt be the talk of the streets for days to come, probably weeks.
Minutes after going inside the crowded dwelling, Rico shut the entire dice game down with the aid of his iPhone, pushing REPLAY more than nine or ten times. Every person that eyeballed the brightly lit, outrageous video starring Keisha and Kilo were left practically speechless. First, because what freak-ass female in Detroit would let a dog eat her out, then be all off into the bullshit? Then, lastly, why in the fuck would Rico tape his supposed woman and show it to all of them? Where they do that at? was the main sentiment of all the dudes, chiefly A.J., who Rico made sure was first to see it.
“Man, ain’t that Keisha?”
“Wow, you deep! That’s ya woman?”
“Nigga, you sick in the head!”
“Boy, you wild for this one here!”
“Man, what in the fuck she do to you?”
“If that was my sister, I’d body your ass for this shit!”
With a bad taste lingering in his mouth, Rico wanted to chin-check A.J. for that slick, behind-the-back kitchen stunt he knew he’d pulled, but he decided not to let his country ass, Swazy, or the rest of the fellas inside the trap house see him set trip about no female—especially one who’d fuck a dog. As difficult as it was to get that feeling of animosity out his system, he stood tall, playing his bitterness off.
“Come on, now. I’m a fucking boss in my household,” he responded with false pride.
After the initial fanfare of the homemade porno died down, the dice game continued. With only two twenty-dollar bills to play with, Rico was quickly broke and left standing on the sidelines watching A.J. clean house. The combination of each roll the Alabama-born-and-raised visitor took, and the fact he’d felt like A.J. had got down on him earlier, had Rico fighting to keep his game face on. Asking Swazy to loan him a few dollars to get back in the game and getting turned down on his request pushed Rico to the edge.
“Oh, damn, Swazy, so you dick-riding with your cousin, huh? You can’t give ya boy a couple of dollars to get back on? It’s like that?” Rico felt he could make the next man act like he wanted him to do.
“Yo, dawg, I ain’t got it,” Swazy, instantly salty from working hard for his tips all night, fired back, shrugging his shoulders, standing amongst the crowd of guys. “And don’t disrespect me like that!”
“Come on now, my dude. I just hooked you and this ho-ass nigga up on some pussy and head from old girl, and you tripping out on a few dollars. Damn!” Rico purposely let the handle of his pistol show.
“Slow your roll, motherfucker. You let Kilo get the pussy too. Now, was you over there begging his four-legged ass for some bread?” Swazy, strapped himself, was not the least bit intimidated. He’d had just about enough of Rico talking reckless and decided to put him in his place, gun or no gun.
“Begging? What?” Rico grimaced, acting as if he was gonna actually draw on his best friend and any other person in the house who seemed like they might want some.
“Nigga, you don’t wanna do that. I’m warning you.” Swazy refused to back down, showing his true Detroit credibility. “Ya best bet is to fall back and not jump out there with me! I thought we was better than that.”
“Fuck you, Swazy.” Rico, although unsure of the outcome, let his nuts hang and tried making his move.
“You heard my cousin, fool. Fall the fuck back. You past tense with that gangster routine.” A.J. dropped the dice from his hand. Exchanging words then locking eyes, A.J. bum-rushed Rico, strong-arm taking his gun from him before he knew what was going down. “It’s one thing to beat a female’s ass, but make no mistake, homeboy, I’m a grown man—ya heard? Now let’s see what you can do with that. I’ll beat your local ass to sleep. Trust that.”
Trading blows, attempting to fight back and hold his own, Rico received no help against the Southern stranger who had been treating the guys in the house, who’d been losing all night, to beer and weed. Truth be told, everyone in the crib shared the same view as Swazy. They were sick and tired of Rico getting high as a fuck, pulling out his gun, and getting rowdy. Now surrounded and unarmed, Rico got what he was looking for from A.J.—his brains half stomped out.
Eight long, grueling minutes later, A.J. had whooped Rico’s ass for him, Swazy, every dude inside the trap house, and most importantly for Keisha, even though he did see her getting off with a dog. With the assistance of the guy whose house it was, he and Swazy dragged Rico out to his truck, throwing him inside to sleep off his high. With a black eye, a busted lip, and a deep gash across his jawline, Rico’s normally handsome face, nine outta ten, would never be the same.
Chapter Eight
Lying defenseless in the pile of dirty clothes, face hidden. Keisha heard the heavy sound of Rico’s Timberland boots getting closer. Feeling his evil presence standing above her, she clenched her fists as if she were preparing for battle.
“Turn over, ho.”
“Naw, I’m not. I’m done.” Defiant and fed up, she slowly shifted her head. “I’m fucking done!”
Rico still had his stiff dick out from taking a piss, and it showed no signs of getting soft anytime soon. Rubbing the permanent scar across his jaw with one hand and his meat with the other, he grew agitated. “Listen, Keisha, it’s too early in the morning for your dumb ass to get tough. Turn all the way around, get on your knees, and come the fuck here. Right damn now. Crawl.”
Cowardly reacting to the demeaning, demanding tone in Rico’s voice, Keisha unballed her fist—doing as she was told. Down on all fours like Kilo, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length, white plastic-trimmed mirror that was nailed to the door.
What am I doing? This ain’t me! I’m better than this! I know I am! Finally questioning the choices she’d made with her life, seeing firsthand what she’d ultimately become dealing with the likes of Rico Campbell, Keisha paused. I should have killed him that morning! Because of him and that video, my whole life I used to have is fucked up!
“Well, I’m waiting, you nothing-ass bitch. What you gonna do?”
Ironically, hearing Rico make that degrading statement caused her to think back to that very moment she was about to bash his brains in. He’d said that exact same thing.
* * *
Not making any unnecessary noise that might alert Rico to what she was about to do, Keisha’s fingers and palms started to form moisture. With malice in her heart, she gripped the small statue in one hand and the butcher knife in the other. With an eagle eye, she slowly crept. Watching Rico’s back, which was turned to her, go in and out with each passing breath, Keisha got excited. Each step had her getting deeper and deeper off into her emotions. Nervous and feeling out of character, Keisha felt a strange rage invade her soul. All the time she’d spent being involved with Rico, she never truly felt the urge to kill him. Today was different. She was at her wit’s end. Today was the day she was ready to end his life and start her new one off in prison. She licked her lips then bit down on the corner, and her arm went upward. There was no hesitation or second thought. More than ready to get revenge on Rico, she smiled. Repaying him for all the pain and torture he’d caused in her life, Keisha swung the statue down with all her strength. Her sinister smile grew as it crashed it against his skull. With the quickness, she
repeated the process once more. Before she could go at it a third, he was shouting out in excruciating pain.
“Urggggg . . . !” Rico, still dazed and dizzy from the beating he’d suffered at the hands of A.J, grabbed the back of his head. Instinctively, he started to squirm to halt any more blows. Not knowing what or who had hit him, he rolled off the couch and onto the floor. Hands and dreads now covered in gushing blood, he scrambled to stand to his feet but couldn’t. Disoriented, he yelled out a few more times before Keisha decided to reply.
“You low-life-ass bitch-made nigga! Why in the fuck would you send that bullshit to my family, Rico? And to all my damn friends? Why in the fuck would you do that dirty-ass shit, huh? Why? That was some ole fucked-up shit to do to someone you claim to care about, let alone someone you hate!” The questions as to why Rico did what he’d done flew as she now felt empowered. After months of enduring his constant verbal and mental abuse, Keisha was not letting up one bit as she held onto the statue and the knife.
“I haven’t done anything ever to try to hurt your ass. Not ever. And because you feeling some sort of way, you think it’s okay to try to ruin someone’s life. Just because you came from nothing and really ain’t about shit don’t mean you gotta hate on the next person.
“I don’t know what I saw in you in the first place. My dumb ass was just looking for something, and you came along. I should’ve listened to my girls. Matter of fact, I should’ve left your crazy ass locked up the day you clowned at my parents’ house. But naw, stupid me had to come get you. I loved you so much, and that love ain’t shit but my downfall.
“Now I ain’t got shit left in the world to hold my head up for. You destroyed that just like everything else you come in contact with. Rico, you ain’t shit but a waste of skin.”
“Urggg.” Rico finally tried to speak once more.
“Seriously, nigga? For real? That’s all the fuck you gotta say? Now, I’ma ask you once more why you sent that bullshit before I cut your ass. I’m done playing games.” Waving the shiny blade, she wanted him to know she meant every single word she’d just said and that if it came down to more bloodshed to get answers, it would be his on the floor this time for a change, definitely not hers.
Using his bloody hands to move his scattered dreads, Rico squinted as he stared upward. “Bitch, look at my fucking face. You see this shit?”
Keisha was stunned, seeing the condition of his face. She knew that it was no sweet way in hell the blow she’d just given him to the rear of his head could’ve caused that much damage to his face. “What in the entire hell?”
“Yeah, Keisha, that’s right, what in the hell.” Rico fell back, allowing the light in the room to showcase the true extent of A.J.’s handiwork. “My shit is fucked up thanks to you.”
Not letting the blood-stained statue, now a makeshift weapon, and the knife out of her sweaty grasp, Keisha eased slightly closer. Getting a better look, she was even more confused when he moved his hair. “Thanks to me? What in the hell are you talking about, thanks to me? I just hit you across the back of your stupid head. I know damn well that shit ain’t do all of that. So once again, how is that thanks to me?”
Despite a black eye, a busted lip, a cut across his jaw, and now a huge gaping hole on the left side of his skull, he was cocky. Shaky and slurring, Rico tried his best to remain who he was, a trash-talking, manipulative asshole. “Thanks to you giving that country nigga that pussy in the kitchen, behind my back, he zoned out last night. He was all in his little feelings. But it’s all good, though.”
“What in the hell are you talking about now?” Keisha quizzed.
“You heard me, girl. Your new overgrown-goon, gold-tooth-wearing boyfriend got on one at the dice game. Like I said, he was in his feelings and bugged out like a li’l punk.”
Keisha couldn’t believe what she was hearing about a dude she’d just met and freaked with the night before.
Yeah, right. Whatever. This nigga must think I’m dumb. Ain’t no guy just all of a sudden trip out over some female he don’t know like that. Knowing Rico and his constant games, she didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but at this point, she couldn’t care less. Like he claimed A.J. was all up in his feelings, so was she. Her main mission was to punish Rico for what he had done to her. Whatever he had going on outside of that was of no great consequence to her. It was one thing to humiliate, embarrass, disrespect, and altogether beast her like she was less than a human being. Pitiful as it seemed, she’d grown accustomed to that harsh treatment. It was almost second nature. But now, once again, like he’d done early on in their relationship, Rico brought pain, hurt, disappointment, and devastation to her parents and everyone she knew, for that matter. His verbal, physical, and constant mental abuse was now out of the closet. It was no more a dirty little secret they shared. It was public knowledge. If the God-awful video hadn’t gone viral by now, she knew it was certainly well on its way.
“Okay, he was on one. Whatever. I don’t give a hot shit.” She raised her arm once more, feeling no sympathy. “Look at my face. It’s messed up too. Besides that, what the fuck that got to do with you sending that bullshit to every damn body? Huh? What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you lost what little mind you got?”
Having been hit twice by the statue, Rico still struggled to regain his sight. Now, threatened with a butcher knife an out-of-control, infuriated Keisha was swinging, Rico had to think quickly. His first thought was to try to get his gun and shoot or at least scare her. But that idea quickly went out of play. He remembered A.J. had taken it from him at the weed house, so that was out the question. Secondly, he contemplated trying to overpower and disarm her. Yet he felt like he’d endured enough battle wounds within a twenty-four hour time span to risk getting stabbed. Plus, Keisha wasn’t one of those small tiny framed females a guy could toss around. She was thick and he realized as heated as she was, she was gonna fight back. It wouldn’t be an automatic easy win. Wisely, Rico tried the one thing Keisha always fell for since day one, his smooth charm and con man techniques.
“Look at my damn face!” Rico used his elbows to back himself up against the couch. “That nigga was over there talking mad shit about you. He was saying all type of bullshit, and I was fed up. I wasn’t gonna let no down-South, green-eggs-and-ham, grit-eating nigga to try to clown you. Fuck all that! I was defending your black ass.”
“What are you talking about?” Keisha tilted her head, giving Rico the side-eye as he tried shifting responsibly for the condition of his face. “What you mean, defending me?”
“Yeah, just like I said, defending you got my face all messed up. Niggas ain’t shit but some haters. A dude try to show a fool some hospitality and they don’t appreciate it. Him and Swazy was over at the trap house saying how you wasn’t nothing but a hood rat and how you was ugly as shit. Going in about how big you was and how you couldn’t be their wifey.”
“What?” Keisha twisted her lips.
“Yeah, and when I stepped to them lames, they jumped me. Him and Swazy punk ass. I done fed that guy and smoked my last weed with him, and he turned on me. I guess blood is thicker than water. But it’s all good, though.” Rico kept his hand pressed to the still-bleeding gash in the rear of his head. With his shoulder-length dreadlocks now soaked and dripping blood, he continued to run his game on Keisha, telling her what she wanted to hear.
“I ain’t tripping. It’s all good. But now my face fucked up all because I was taking up for you. They some punk-ass niggas, especially Swazy’s cousin.”
Any other time, she’d be grateful for what he was saying, if indeed it was true. But Keisha was not dumb enough or naïve enough to get thrown off her square. She’d been through a lot with him and his bullshit lies, but not this time. She wasn’t buying what he was selling.
“Okay, Rico. That’s all good and all, and if it did all go down that way last night, good for you stepping up to defend some shit you created from jump. And once again, even if you were taking up for me with
them, which I seriously doubt, why in the hell would you send that video to my people? Why? One ain’t got Jack Daniel’s shit to do with the other. See, that’s what I’m talking about. That’s what got your head cracked open, and that’s what’s gonna make me cut your black ass. Now, like I keep asking you, why? Why in the hell would you do some old slimeball shit like that?” She tapped her foot while waiting for an answer.
As she got closer up on him, Keisha’s patience for not cutting Rico was growing thin. “My mother was crying. You made my fucking mama cry, you bastard. You betrayed me, and for what? I promise you for every tear my mother shed, you gonna give an ounce of blood.”
“Hold up, Keisha. Hold the fuck up. I know I done did a gang of foul shit since we been kicking it, but let’s keep this shit right here a hundred.” Using his free hand, stalling for more time to get his self together, Rico continued his master manipulation techniques, trying to flip the script. “You stabbed me in the back first. I mean, like I said, let’s keep shit a hundred. Why would you let that nigga hit it in my house like I’m some sort of lame? Explain that.”
Keisha, although pissed beyond belief, couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She laughed, rolling her neck as she responded to what Rico had just said. “Negro, are you fucking serious? You can’t be. I know I must be hearing things. Excuse me, Rico, but didn’t you just sit over there on that damn couch watching your so-called boys get the pussy? Was I dreaming last night or what? Correct me if I’m wrong.” Irritated, she started cleaning under her nails with the long, sharp, shiny blade. “And ain’t you the person that wanted them over here so bad when all I wanted to do was go to bed? Huh?” She stopped, sucking her teeth, giving him a cold, hard death stare. “You that same boss-ass buster calling shots, ain’t you? That had all that madness jumping off.”
Rico was seeing a side of Keisha he never knew existed. At a total disadvantage, he started looking around the room for something to knock the knife out her hand if she came any closer. “Wait, Keisha, damn. See, now you bugging. Don’t you see what in the fuck you already did to me? I mean, you taking this bullshit way too far.” Taking his hand off the open wound, he showed her the blood dripping from his fingertips.
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