CA-CLACK! A bullet pierced his forehead, cutting his words off.
Without turning,
“Grab that muthafucka,” Stone growled out.
“Get the fuck off me! Stone, I helped yo ass out! Bitch boy been lying, trying to save his life!” Jeb yelled out.
“Bitch, I know yo heavy tongue, non talking ass, ain’t just said a thing to me. Regardless if his ass was lying, did I order yah ass to shoot some damn body? Fuck no. Get Link,” Stone snapped.
“Don’t fucking touch me! I ain’t do shit, Stone! The fuck, nigga?” He barked, trying to fight.
WHAMP! WHAMP!
“Nigga, you know better,” Racks spat, after knocking his ass out.
“Damn, Racks. Fuck it. Kill these muthafuckas, I’m tired of looking at they weak asses,” Stone stated.
SWOOSH! I sliced ole boy’s head from his shoulders.
CRACK! CRACK! Quicker than anyone could blink, Racks snapped the last two necks.
“Burn’em on the smoke stack. I don’t wanna see shit. Not even they fucking bones,” Stone issued, as the cleanup crew moved in removing bodies.
They own a cleaning company and funeral homes. Them boys masters at burning bodies.
“Wake his bitch ass up. Sit yo ugly ass the fuck down, Jeb. Y’all bout to watch a fucking show. Y’all want some popcorn? Soda? No. Okay. I’ll never understand snake muthafuckas. I mean, what makes them flip? Some say it got shit to do with the devil, Satan. Yeah, him. His ass was jealous of Jesus. Like it was Jesus’s fault he was born to be the Alpha and Omega, the Savior of the whole world, a King. Now, I ain’t no Jesus. I don’t save lives and give chances. Nawl, not me, I am a King tho.
Weak people been trying to take my throne. Think I’m a game. I know it’s the blonde hair, right? Am I unfair? Unjust? Don’t y’all eat? Jeb, yo gut hang to yo fucking knees, so yo ass ain’t hungry. Yo families work. Y’all got healthcare and dental. Link, yo ghetto ass just got some damn gold fronts from the damn dentist. But that ain’t good enough fa’ y’all asses I see.
Whelp, let’s look at the shit, shall we?” He finished.
“This nigga dramatic as fuck,” I mumbled.
He hit me with an evil ass smirk, causing me to shake my head.
“Dawg, hit that shit,” Stone ordered.
Dawg just nodded, while hitting the switch. The curtain to the room slid open, revealing four women, two older, two younger, along with two baby boys. Their tear streaked, terrified faces, came into view. Their eyes kept darting around the room as they stood stalk still.
“Man, the fuck? Stone, yo ass fucking crazy!” Jeb hollered, trying to jump up.
“Crazy? What? You not enjoying the show? Yo ass confused? Let me help y’all out. Yes, those are frogs. No, they not yo typical frogs. No, sir, those beauties are Poisonous Golden Dart Frogs. Ain’t they purty? See, right now, they are behaving. But, let’s say I,” he paused, pushing a button that caused the walls to vibrate.
The frogs started jumping and croaking. The women yelled, but didn’t move.
“Man, fuck! This ain’t got shit to do wit them. Let my fucking fam go, nigga,” Link yelled out.
“Shut the fuck up. Yo bitch ass put them in this. Those innocent people, kids, the elderly, they ain’t have shit to do wit what the fuck yo treacherous ass set up today. Yo fucking kids was out there. Bitch, you don’t care bout them,” Stone sneered.
Link started to say something, ‘til he looked at Stone’s finger.
“I push it again, it stresses the frogs out. They will attack. They got teeth and bite humans. That shit hurts, but it ain’t fatal. They skin tho. That’s the weapon, it releases toxins. One brush against them, they die slowly, and very painful,” he let them know.
Something flashed in his eyes.
“Aiight, man, what do you want to know?” Jeb’s big ass breathed out.
Stone paused, while cocking his head to the side.
“Fa’ a second it sounded like this nigga is offering me something. Nigga, ain’t shit yo ass can tell me that I don’t already know. I just wanted yo ass to see what yo actions caused. I’m sending yo disloyal ass to yo daddy, with the regret of being a pussy ass snake. Muthafucka, the worst torture is dying not knowing if yah family lived,” he stated, before,
CA-CLACK, CA-CLACK
“Damn, Stone. Warning, nigga. Yo unstable ass got brains and skull bone on my damn clothes,” Racks fussed.
One shoot to the dome a piece. That damn cannon caused their heads to explode.
“I’ll pay fa’ yah dry cleaning,” he deadpanned.
Racks flicked him off before pulling his shit off.
“Clean this shit up. Give me they phones. Take them home. Give them they pay, leave my callin card. Meeting at four a.m., don’t be fucking late,” he stated, walking towards the door.
Dawg grabbed they phones, handing them to Stone.
“Four a.m.? Nocturnal, muthafucka. I couldn’t get no pussy tonight no how. Them prime fucking hours. That nigga need a wife, woman, live in pussy, something, fuck,” Racks rambled, causing the guys to chuckle. I joined in.
Everyone moved, doing what they posed to do, as Racks and I made it to the door where Stone’s ass was standing.
“Ready, George Lopez?” He snapped, eyeing Racks.
“The fuck? Yah ass losing yo eye sight? I ain’t Mexican. You disrespectful as fuck fa’ that,” Racks spat.
“Yo ass sho’?” Stone taunted.
“As sho’ as my dick that hangs to my fucking knees,” he spat.
“Shut y’all asses up. Come on, I gotta take a nap,” I added.
“A nap?” Racks repeated.
“Shit, it ain’t sleep. Fucker called ah damn four a.m. meeting,” I snapped.
“True,” was all he said.
Stone ignored us. This shit ain’t new to us. That don’t mean it doesn’t catch our asses off guard. He loves to say we work, plot, and plan, when slaw bitches counting sheep. A lazy mind gets kilt, while a functioning mind pulls the trigger and lives to rule the world.
Colloquiums will give yah ass a damn headache. Stone got an old soul. When he told me his moms was forty-seven or fifty, when she birthed him, I understood him better. Then his grandpa raised his ass. Instilling knowledge in his ass. Gramps ah cool dude. Crazy, but cool. That brings me to,
“Aye, how Gramps doing?” I questioned, since my mind is on’em.
He’s been sick, but let him tell it, it’s a cold. Climbing in the truck, I turned it on, pulling out with the radio playing low.
“Stubborn as fuck. Got my ass hunting down a natural healer and shit. I found one. She posed to hit his house Monday. Negro talkin’ bout a damn lil’ congestion. The doctors at the hospital said lung cancer. His mean ass cussed them out. Told’em they mammies some slaw ass brawds fa’ birthing they incompetent asses. He promised not to die until he gets some great grands,” he explained, after a few beats.
He loves his grandpa. He’s all get got left, blood wise.
“You better get on them great grands. The stallion a perfect fit fa’ yah ass. I saw her bussin’ her guns. If you hadn’t staked claim on her luscious ass, I would’ve ran up on her thick ass on some Superman shit,” Racks retorted, causing me to chuckle.
“Fuck you. She ain’t shit. Yo ass wouldn’t do shit. Get that up out yo brain. The fuck yo ass speaking on her fa’? Stick to the fake ass female,” he snapped, causing us to holler.
Racks got to his ass. Stallion got to his ass. This bullshit ain’t never happen. He showed his hand by saying something back to her ass. Stone says what the fuck he wants, then walks off. Most females take it while dropping to they knees. Not Stallion though.
“Man, take me home. Laughing muthafuckas,” he grumbled.
“Damn, Stone. Stallion got yah ass, huh? My bad, I ain’t mean no harm. But aye, can you just imagine how riding all that ass will feel? I mean, the shit so big, yo ass might fall the fuck off. You ever rode a horse before? Get some lessons, nigga,” Racks teased.
WHAMP!
“The fuck!” He barked, grabbing the back of his head.
Stone ain’t say shit, he just looked out the window. Nigga in his feelings over a female he disrespected. She’s the first female who didn’t fawn over his ass. She read his ass something serious. His ass ain’t use to it.
“Don’t mind him, Racks. His emotions are over the place, he don’t know how to handle them. His ass gonna go home, watch a Tyler Perry play, while sipping on some Pink Rose wine. He’ll be alright,” I taunted, causing Racks to holler.
“Fuck you, bitch. Give me a light,” he hissed out.
Racks threw him one. I have bout five in each one of my vehicles. I knew it wouldn’t take long fo’ his ass was lighting some kush. He’s not a big smoker, but when he feels out of control, he lights up.
“Banks, you want Neesha? She ah good look,” Racks questioned.
Cutting my eyes at his ass, a smirk played on his mouth.
“(Cough,) (cough) Damn, (cough) this some (cough) good shit. Answer his (cough) ass, love connection, (cough)” Stone choked out.
Eyeing his ass through the rearview mirror, he threw his head back on the headrest, with the blunt hanging on his lips.
“Yo ass on some matchmaker shit. Nawl, I don’t want her. I’ll fuck’er, that’s it. Project chicks are all the fucking same. I can’t take her ass serious. She ain’t Queen material. She don’t match my creed,” I answered, causing him to shake his head.
“What?” I snapped.
His head popped up fast as hell. He pinned me with a look I’m choosing to ignore. Like this highway is so important. Shit, I could drive this bitch wit my eyes closed.
“Yo ass full of shit. You got them bad ass kids to stop bullying her little brother. Yo ass question niggas bout her ass. You got the same answer. She don’t even fuck wit hustlers. Her dude was a blue collar worker, kilt by a stray bullet. Yo ass scared she’ll turn yo ass down. That’s why yo ass hollering that weak ass argument. Sounds like to me yah ass done sat down trying to think of every reason why she ain’t good enough fa’ yah ass. When in reality, yah ass really wondering if you are good enough fa’ her ass.
I done told yo ass bout putting everybody in a fucking box. Fuckers did me like that. Don’t you know I was adopted by this nice, upper middle class family. They only wanted me because I fit in with appearances. Blonde hair wit greenish blue eyes. I was who they wanted, as long as I didn’t talk. See, my cover was pristine to them, but my pages were full of filth.
The first time I went against the grain at school. My pages were exposed. They returned my ass to sender. Everybody got a story. Read her pages, before yo ass just disregard her, because to you, her cover is like everyone else’s,” he let me know, dropping knowledge on my ass.
Silence filled the truck. His ass spoke nothing but the truth. It ain’t often he speaks on his childhood. The only thing we actually know, he has no biological family that he knows of. His been in the system since he was three or four. He ain’t real sure on the numbers. He ran away from the group home at sixteen. Did whatever he needed to do to survive. Everything but steal. He say stealing is mo’ dishonorable than snitching. No man should be afraid to work is how he looks at it, and I agree.
“Yo ass getting all philosophical and shit. What bout you? Ole’ girl, yo ass gonna go fa’ her?” I threw out.
“Nawl, I already did. She fucked that up. She’ll come to me,” he stated, with finality.
Nodding, I let it ride. I don’t doubt the boy. He’s a smooth mutha, I give his ass that. For some reason, this feels like the beginning of some bullshit. I’m here fa’ it. Muthafuckas better get ready to die. Death slow, painful, deliberate, that’s how it’s delivered.
Kimmy
‘The Grace Hills Condos’
Two weeks later…
“Good morning, beautiful. What’s on your agenda for today? I’m missing you. I was hoping we could grab dinner and drinks tonight.”
Pulling my phone from my ear, pushing the screen to see the name and time. Sighing before placing the phone back to my ear. Then,
“Tony, hey, love. Why are you up so early? I know banks don’t typically open until nine,” I cooed, while rolling my eyes.
His dry chuckle echoed cross the line. He has no real personality.
“Yes, yes, of course, that’s correct. I just wanted to catch you before you start your day. You know hearing your voice first thing in the morning makes my day run a whole lot smoother,” he countered.
Sitting up fully in my king size bed. Situating my pillows behind my back. The silk sheets fell away from my naked body. The chill of the air conditioner hardened my nipples, forcing me to pull the sheet back over them. Clothes are a no go for me, unless it’s that time of the month. Then I need to be covered. It’s the only time I feel ugly.
“Well, isn’t that sweet of you. My weekend was a little….Unexpected, eventful, if you must. I’ll be heading to work today. We can get together tonight say…..Um, eight? Any particular place you want to meet at?” I cooed sweetly.
“The ‘Oasis,’ downtown. I can always pick you up. I still don’t understand why you are so secretive. Are you sure you’re not married?” He questioned, with a chuckle.
He’s trying to throw it off as a joke, but I know there’s some seriousness to his statement. No man knows where I lay my head. I’m a single woman who lives alone. I don’t trust that shit.
“Tony, will we always go over this? Have you forgotten it was you who stated you weren’t ready for exclusivity? So, I’m not your main woman. So, you do not get my address. The ‘Oasis’ at eight, or have you changed your mind?” I sassed.
“No, no, no, we are still on. I apologize. You are correct. I think I’m almost ready to change our title. You deserve a secure place in my life, and I in yours. I know you have your morning routine, so I won’t keep you,” he rushed out.
“Okay, see you tonight,” I cooed, hanging up.
“These men will never learn,” I mumbled, flopping back on my pillows.
Flipping over looking at my alarm clock, I’m up way before my scheduled time. I don’t have to be at work at the dealership until ten. I work for Preshus as a manager. Although I make my own duckets, I enjoy spending other’s money, as in spending men’s money. This has been my way of thinking since I was a teenager.
Kenya Blanks, my mother, well, more like my sister, is forty-five. She had me at fifteen. She still lives her life like she’s a teenager to this day. Well, for as long as I can remember, she preached to me about not claiming a man until you’re rocking a ring and his last name.
“Uggh, that’s what I get for thinking of her ass,” I mumbled, before, “Hey, Kenya,” I answered my phone.
Setting ringtones to those who I’ve deemed important, helps out a lot. Unless, I’m half asleep, like I was when Tony’s ass called.
“Hey, girl. You still in bed? You working today?” She fired off, in way of greeting.
“I’m getting up now. Yeah, I’m working today. What are you up to?”
I questioned, sitting up again. I know I’m not going back to sleep now.
“I’m getting my nails and toes did in a few. Then going shopping. I need to pick up a few new pieces. Rickey is taking me to Daytona Beach for a week. We’ll be back on Sunday. You sure you gotta work? Call in. Come shopping with me,” she explained.
Rolling my eyes to the top of my head.
“Kenya, who’s Rickey? Do I know him? I don’t call in, you know that,” I inquired.
“Rickey, Rickey, you know Rickey. He’s from round the way. You don’t have to work, you choose to work,” she answered.
Swinging my legs over the side of my bed. It sits up so high I can actually swing my legs. Hell, I have to use a step stool to climb in it.
“I don’t know no Rickey from around the way. Hold up… Are you talking about Randy? The one who owns the barbershops?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah, him. Where did I get Rickey from? G
ood thing he ain’t hear me. But yeah, he’s taking me to Daytona, all because I said I have never been. I done told you how to make these men work for you. You see I ain’t never worked a nine to five. You see how I live, right?” She preached.
“Yeah, I know. I’m meeting Tony tonight for dinner and drinks at ‘Oasis.’ Did you, um, go to the LSC on Saturday?” I stated.
“Good girl. He’s the Investment Banker, right?”
“Un huh.” I hummed, answering her, which was unnecessary. She kept talking like I didn’t say anything.
“I started to come through, but Mike had other plans. I heard what happened though. Stone and his crew came through. That’s who you need to be trying to snag. His sexy, odd looking ass, is beyond paid. Think about that. I’ll talk to you in the near future. You know how to reach me if it’s an emergency. Be good,” she rushed out in one breath, before hanging up.
Sighing, I made sure my phone hung up. That’s a typical conversation with her. I can’t call her mom. She has never told me she loves me. I don’t even know who my father is. She claims she doesn’t know. My grandmother told me before she died, that my father was a married man with status. She was teaching me how to cook baked mac and cheese. She heard me ask Kenya once again, the night before, about my father. True to her fashion, she yelled, telling me she didn’t know. My grandmother took notice of my long face and said,
“Kimmy, I’mma tell you something. I want you to listen to me good hear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered, staring at her.
She sighed while patting me on the back then,
“Kimmy, ya daddy was a married man. Some big time politician. Now, I don’t know from which state, nor his title. Whatever it was, he didn’t want a scandal of cheating on his faithful, doting wife, and creating an outside child. Yah mama wouldn’t go away quietly. You know that’s just not in her. Anyway, she took a large payout. She signed some papers, stating she will never mutter his name to anyone, especially you. If you were to find out and contact him, he would be entitled to all the money he paid yah mama.”
King of the Hood Page 6
