It's Like Candy (31 page)

“Yo, Rah, her pussy good? Maybe I should have a few of my boys take her to the bedroom and find out,” Yung Slim tormented him.

“No! Leave her alone. Please, I beg of you—just let her be. She has nothing to do with us,” he said, gasping in pain.

“Niggah, I wanna see you suffer, that will turn me the fuck on,” Yung Slim said. “What would make you suffer, Rah? . . . Seeing your bitch get fucked right in front of you, huh? “

“Russell, I beg of you, please let her go.”

“It's good to see you beg and cry over this bitch. She's definitely fine, though. But you think I give a fuck about her, or you? Matter of fact, yo, y'all take that bitch to the bedroom and handle y'all business.
I wanna see this niggah endure the pain of watching his wife gettin' raped,” Yung Slim instructed.

“Nooooooooooo!”
Rah screamed out, as he watched three thugs carry Vivian away into one of the back bedrooms. She tried to fight and resist, but to no avail.

Rah watched them disappear with his wife into their main bedroom. He was sobbing uncontrollably, thinking about the abuse that was happening with his wife while he painfully heard her screams from the bedroom.

Yung Slim walked up to Rah, crouched down beside him, and said, “I always hated you, niggah. My cousin befriended your bitch ass, and I don't know why. But tonight, you get yours. I always come out on top; you should know this by now, Rah. I fucked that stupid bitch of yours, Tammy, and she loved every minute of this dick, and now I got your wife.”

“I hope you burn in hell for eternity,” Rah spat, glaring at Yung Slim with bloodshot eyes.

“Well, before I burn in hell, it's gonna be heaven for me to watch you endure living hell on earth right now,” Yung Slim countered back. “Yo, drag this muthafucka to the bedroom and have him watch the show.”

Two thugs carried Rah to his bedroom, and when the door opened, Rah saw his wife sprawled out on her back, legs spread, her clothes ripped off her, pinned in the missionary position and crying out as one thug ground in between her legs while his friends held her down.

“God! No! No!
Nooooooooooo!”Rah
yelled, teary-eyed and trying to free himself. But he was helpless as he watched them rape his wife.

“Yeah, niggah, watch and see how we do,” Yung Slim continued to torment him. “That ain't your pussy anymore, niggah. I own that now.”

The young thug fucked Vivian raw, thrusting his dick into her, panting and fondling her breasts. “I'm coming,” he shouted, and then didn't give a fuck about pulling out but came in Vivian.

“I got next,” the next thug called out, unzipping his pants quickly, and positioned himself between her naked thighs and pushed his dick into her. He grunted and began moving rapidly in between her thighs. He came within minutes, and then the next man jumped on her.

“How could you?” Rah cried out.

Rah helplessly watched man after man have their way with his wife as he sobbed like a two-year-old. Vivian stopped screaming and reluctantly gave in to the men. She stared at her husband, still subdued on the floor, tears trickling down her face, and she said, “God is still with us, baby. They took my body but they will never have my soul. Everything is going to be okay.”

After the last man was done, Yung Slim stepped up, pulling down his jeans. Before he went any further, he looked down at Rah, and said, “Let me show you how it's done. Let me show you how you fuck your bitch.” He gripped his dick and pushed himself into Vivian. But she was quiet as he thrust himself into her.

Vivian peered at the ceiling and began reciting the Lord's Prayer. “Our Father Which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil—”

“Bitch, shut the fuck up!” Yung Slim screamed, covering her mouth and muffling her prayer as he grunted and came in her.

Vivian just lay there still, her body frozen against the bed. She stared at her weeping husband and whispered to him, “I love you.”

Yung Slim buckled his pants, gripped a loaded .45 in his hand, and put the gun to her temple. He glanced at Rah and said, “You really care for this bitch.”

“Russell, please don't. If you have a soul, a conscience, just let her go. You already humiliated me. You took everything. Please, don't! She's pregnant,” he begged of him.

Vivian looked up at Yung Slim and said, “May God have mercy on your soul.”

Russell displayed a smirk, and replied, “I don't give a fuck about her or your unborn, religious bitch!”

Boom!
He blew her brains out while her husband watched.

“Vivian!!!”
Rah screamed, trying to break from his captive's grip. His face was filled with anguish. The bedroom sheets were saturated with her blood and brain matter.

“Aaaaaahhh,
no! No! No! You're a monster! Vivian! Vivian!” Rah cried out.

Everyone stood around nonchalantly and watched Rahmel pour his heart out. Yung Slim stepped up to Rah, pointed the gun down at his head, and uttered, “Pathetic. Go out like a man, niggah. Crying over your bitch.”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Yung Slim fired three shots into his head. He felt vengeful. He then turned to his soldiers, and ordered, “Yo, burn this bitch down.”

 

Eric slowly made his way down
the block, coming to a stop at flashing police lights and fire trucks that flooded the quiet Long Island street. The block was shut down, with dozens of firefighters trying to put out the heavy fire that engulfed an entire house. Neighbors came out in swarms, clad in their robes and slippers, witnessing the scene.

Eric suddenly got this funny feeling in his gut as he stepped out of his ride and slowly came closer to the blaze. He stood next to a neighbor, and asked, “What happened?”

“They don't know, I woke up and the entire house was on fire,” a slim Caucasian male informed Eric. “Sad, they just bought that house not too long ago.”

“They?” Eric inquired.

“Yeah, a couple. I heard that they just got married,” he continued to explained.

“Black?”

The man nodded.

Eric stood frozen, fearing the worse. “Where are they?”

“It's funny, I haven't seen them. They're probably out of town.”

“Ohmygod!” Eric muttered to himself. His eyes started to dart around the street in search of Rahmel and Vivian but they were nowhere in sight.

Eric got on his cell phone to call Rah, but he instantly got his voice mail. He continued to call Rah's phone repeatedly but all his calls went straight to voice mail. Eric began to fear the worst. He had just spoken to Rah a few short hours ago.

An hour passed, and the fire was finally put out. The house was completely destroyed, but the news got grimmer when firefighters informed their crew that two bodies were found in the main bedroom burned beyond recognition.

The news quickly spread throughout the neighborhood, and when Eric heard, he knew who the bodies belonged to. His face saddened, and he banged his fist hard down on the hood of his ride. His eyes were filled with tears.

“Fuck!” he cursed.

“Ohmygod,” a neighbor cried out on hearing the news. She stood next to Eric and looked horrified.

Eric knew who was responsible for the horrendous act of violence against his friend. He wondered how his cousin found out about Rah's location so soon.

Now it was two close friends that he had to bury. He got back in his ride, did a quick U-turn, and made his way back to Queens. He broke down weeping a few times on the highway, but regained his composure and quickly tried to make it to his uncle's house in one piece.

Starr sat at the foot of the bad,
giving herself a pedicure. It had been days since Bamboo's murder, and Starr tried to forget about the horrible events she had witnessed. But seeing Bamboo tortured was messing with her head, and she began having nightmares about it. She witnessed firsthand how deadly and cruel this world she was living in can get. Bamboo's ghastly death, the brutal rape and assault on her, and the murders were starting to open her eyes to what Ms. Henderson was trying to preach to her earlier.

The apartment was quiet, and it gave her time to think. Rome was in the kitchen discussing business over his cell phone, and the only girl in the apartment was Dynasty, satisfying a trick in the adjacent bedroom.

Starr heard Dynasty's moans coming from her room as she fucked a customer. She thought deeply about Ms. Henderson. She still had her number and was tempted to give her a call. She needed someone to talk to, and Ms. Henderson was the right woman she could run to.

Moments later, Dynasty walked into the bedroom naked while Starr continued to paint her toenails.

“Hey, girl,” Dynasty greeted her, walking over to the closet and donning a red robe.

“Hey,” Starr said, still focusing on her nails.

Dynasty looked exhausted. She stared at Starr and complained, “Rome had me out on the track all night, so I could make back his money. Now he got me fuckin' niggahs twenty-four/seven. I ain't got no sleep in two days.”

Dynasty was only twenty-six but looked to be in her early thirties. She'd been in the game a long time, and it was starting to show in her appearance.

Starr looked up at Dynasty and noticed that her bruises were healing up really well. She was starting to look like the old Dynasty again.

Starr respected Dynasty and her position. She was Rome's bottom bitch, and she knew the game like the back of her hand.

“Starr, how old is you?” Dynasty asked.

“Sixteen.”

“Damn, you're still a young thang,” Dynasty replied. “I've been in this game for over ten years. I've been wit' Rome for six years now. You like what you do, Starr?”

“I'm gettin' paid, the money's good,” she replied.

Dynasty chuckled. “I used to think it was always about the money when I first started. I would fuck ten niggahs in one night and make my daddy a thousand and more every night I was out grinding on the track. I was good at fuckin' and suckin' these niggahs like I was they bitch. Sex was my profession. I was the baddest bitch on the track and every pimp wanted my ass, and every trick used to request a date wit' me.”

“But you're still beautiful, Dynasty,” Starr told her.

“I'm not anymore on the inside. Look at me, Starr, I'm twenty-six. Do I look twenty-six to you?”

Starr studied her features and, honestly, when Starr first met Dynasty, she thought she was in her early thirties.

Starr shrugged.

“This game will add ten years to your life. I feel used, baby girl. I have nothing left, and these pimps, they will pimp you till your shit is
dried up and you have nothing else to give. No man doesn't want a used-up ho. I'm scared, Starr, because when my time is up, what's next for me? Retirement? A pension? I have nothing to look forward to. I had three miscarriages, and I can't have anymore kids. I was pregnant with Rome's child once, and he made me get rid of it. Now my insides are so fucked up, and this lifestyle has prevented me to give birth to a child of my own. . . . You want kids, Starr?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, my advice to you is get yours and bounce. Don't end up like me; you still have a chance, baby girl.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Starr asked.

“Because I see a lot of you in me. I was like you
when I was young. I was Rome's favorite bitch. I was his boo. I used to bring in so much money for my daddy that I became his bottom bitch. And I see how Rome looks at you, you're becoming his favorite. And soon he's gonna replace me wit' you, because you're bringin' in what I used to bring in for him. My clientele is diminishing and my money is becoming less and less every night. And when you don't bring in his quota every night, this is what happens to you,” Dynasty said, pointing to her eye, the one that was healing.

Starr gazed at Dynasty. She was quiet, listening to her like an attentive young child.

“These streets are no joke, Starr. It ain't the same anymore. Niggahs wanna kill each other over some pussy, and the tricks are always trying to get over on you. They always wanna pay you less for more. They don't know how to treat a bitch anymore. Too many young niggahs tryin' to be pimps, and don't even know the first thing about pimpin'. I've been selling pussy since I was twelve, and I've seen many young girls come and go. Some end up locked up for their pimps, and some end up being murdered in this game, either by a trick or their pimps. My best friend, Sherrill, was murdered by her pimp ten years ago. He thought that she would leave him to go work for another pimp, and he stabbed my girl forty times.

“You heard about Royal?” Dynasty continued.

“I haven't seen her around,” Starr said.

“They kidnapped that bitch.”

Starr's eyes widened. “Who?”

“Reality told her not to go out, but she needed to make that money to feed her kids. Now niggahs got at her, forced her into the trunk of a car and drove off.”

“Ohmygod,” Starr exclaimed, shocked.

“It's gettin' dangerous out there, Starr. I see so much more in you than this. And I understand, I was in your same situation when I was young. You ran away from home to escape the abuse, the beatings, and you were constantly being mistreated. But let me pull your coat to something. Did you actually escape the abuse by coming here? It's the same thing, and even worse. My father couldn't stay off of me every night. I got pregnant by him and had a miscarriage two months later. I was only eleven at the time. Like you, I ran away from home and stayed over at an older guy's house, and he used me for sex. I got turned on by it, and been selling my pussy in the streets since I was twelve. I never had a boyfriend. I don't even know what it's like to fall in love wit' a man. All I know is having him climb on top of me to do his business and paying me for my services. I don't even come anymore, and my pussy, I gotta rub lubrication on it, that's how I get wet for these tricks. Don't any man want a woman who can't get aroused or wet for him. I'm so used up, Starr, that this game is all I got left. I have nothing else goin' on for me.”