Still Hood (31 page)

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Authors: K'wan

BOOK: Still Hood
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“Nasty ass,” Dena laughed. “A'ight, but if you change ya mind, hit my phone and I'll make sure you're good at the door. I'll talk to you later, Mo.” Dena was about to end the call, but Mo stopped her.
“D, you make sure you're careful around them Harlem niggaz. I got a bad feeling about this whole situation.”
“Mo, I told you I got this,” Dena said, clearly not wanting to be lectured anymore. “I gotta go cause I'm next under the dryer, but if I don't see you tonight I'll call you in the morning.”
“Make sure you do, D,” Mo said, and ended the call. She was glad to hear that her friend was alright, but didn't know how she felt about
the situation. Dena could say what she wanted about Black Ice, but Mo saw right through his slick-talking persona. For as sweet as his words were, she knew he had a poisonous tongue. Mo couldn't fault Dena for milking him, but hooking up with the man was an accident waiting to happen. And since Dena was grown and would have to see the light on her own, all Mo could do was be there for her when it happened.
A few minutes after Mo hung up with Dena, Sharon came out of the back. Aside from a few scratches on her face and a bruise under her eye, Sharon was good. But Mo could see the bandage they had applied to her shoulder peeking out from her neckline.
“I can't stand fucking hospitals!” Sharon said with a major attitude.
“How'd it go?” Mo asked.
“They had me back there all this fucking time to take some blood and give me a prescription for antibiotics.”
“What? They think the bitch gave you rabies or something?” Mo joked.
“I don't fucking know, they claim the shit is routine when dealing with bites or scratches. I swear to God, when I see that bitch uptown it's on!”
“Sharon, you need to leave that shit alone,” Mo told her.
“Fuck you mean, I need to leave it alone? You see what that bitch did to my face?” Sharon pointed to her scratches.
“Well, you
were
fucking her man,” Mo pointed out.
“That's beside the point. If her old-ass pussy wasn't so trash he wouldn't keep coming back for this young shot. She ain't nothing but a hating-ass bitch.”
“Whatever,” Mo said. “Oh, I spoke to Dena.”
“Ms. Prissy finally poked her head out? Where the fuck she been?”
“Catting around with that nigga Ice.”
“That is one lucky bitch,” Sharon said scornfully. “If she hadn't been all up his ass, I could've bagged him.”
“Sharon, he's a pimp. Why the fuck would you want him?” Mo asked, not really understanding Sharon or Dena's thinking.
Sharon looked at her as if the answer to the question should've been obvious. “Mo, I wouldn't give a fuck if a nigga sold pussy or vacuums for a living, as long as he had long enough dough to keep me fly, I'm good.” With that, Sharon left the emergency room.
THE MOMENT THE SUN DIPPED BEHIND THE
horizon Jah's eyes snapped open. An eerie feeling crept over him that he couldn't quite explain. After leaving the studio he came home to spend some time with Yoshi before he had to get ready for the locked-door party. Though he had been sleeping for almost five hours, he still felt drained.
Sliding off the bed as carefully as he could so as not to wake Yoshi, Jah went into the bathroom and took a five-minute shower before he began the process of selecting an outfit to wear for the night. Jah had never been big on fashion, so it wasn't like he had a very wide selection of things to choose from. Most of the stuff on his side of the closet consisted of hoodies and jeans, but Yoshi had picked him up a few pieces that were suitable for the occasion. Jah selected a pair of black jeans and an oversize black button-up shirt that he'd never gotten a chance to exchange. It was a good thing that he hadn't, because nothing short of a hoodie would've concealed the thin bulletproof vest he would be wearing.
As he was slipping into his pants his cell phone started vibrating. Slipping back into the bathroom, he answered it. “Yo?”
“You about ready to roll?” True asked on the other end.
“I will be, in a hot minute.”
“That's what's up. We're meeting Stacks and his crew on 125th and Broadway in the McDonald's parking lot so we can roll through the spot mad thick.”
“True, you think it's a good idea to have a mass meeting in the parking lot, with a nigga trying to kill you?” Jah asked. His strategy was to have True keep a low profile, but it was proving to be a near-impossible task.
“Man, its gonna be like twenty of us out there, so I doubt if a nigga is gonna be stupid enough to try something. Besides, I got the Terminator watching my back,” True joked.
“Youz a funny nigga,” Jah said in a flat tone.
“Nah, but on the real, I appreciate you holding me down like this, fam. Don B and them niggaz don't really understand what I'm going through. They want me to run around town with two big-ass bodyguards, like I'm soft or some shit. That kind of thing can make a nigga look bad.”
“Don't worry about it, True. Look, y'all niggaz just call me when you're close and I'll meet you downstairs.”
“A'ight, my nigga. One.” True ended the call.
Jah flipped his phone closed and eased it back into his pocket. When he came out of the bathroom, Yoshi was sitting up on the bed looking at him.
“Who was you on the phone with, Jah?” she asked suspiciously.
“That nigga, True. I took it in the bathroom so I wouldn't wake you,” he told her, beginning the task of slipping into the bulletproof vest.
“Since when did you start wearing that?”
“Since I started running around with a bunch of knuckleheads who don't know how to stay out of trouble.”
“Which club are you guys hitting tonight, so me and my girls can crash?” she said playfully.
“I don't think y'all will be crashing this one. It ain't exactly a club,” Jah said.
“Well, if y'all ain't doing the club what's with the button-up?”
Jah stared at her for a minute as if he didn't know how to answer. Several decent lies raced through his mind, but in the end he decided to be honest. “Black Ice is having a locked-door tonight.”
All the humor suddenly drained from Yoshi's eyes. She had been on the circuit for a good number of years, so she knew just what a locked-door was and the things that went on. Whereas, at a strip club there were certain rules and etiquette that were followed, a locked-door wasn't the same. Within the walls of the roving orgies, anything went, and she knew this for a fact from having attended several of them in the past.
“I don't know about this, Jah,” she said.
“What you mean, you don't know? What is there to know? I'm supposed to be guarding True, so that's what I'm gonna do,” he told her.
“Jah, I know what goes on at these kinds of things. There's gonna be a bunch of nasty pussy bitches throwing their stinking asses in your face!” she said heatedly.
“Yoshi, you know a nigga ain't moved by no flesh but yours. I'll be too busy watching True to even look at another bitch.”
“Tell me anything.” Yoshi was laying on her stomach, looking away from Jah.
Jah stopped fumbling with the buckles of his gun holster and went to the bed. Gently, he ran his hand over Yoshi's back. “Baby, you know me better than that. When I gave my heart to you, I meant it. Trust me when I say, if I hadn't committed to doing this job, then I wouldn't be going. Besides, you're the one that told me that doing security for rappers was easy money.”
She turned to face him. “Yes,
rappers
being the key word. Most of the guys you've worked with are playing the role, but Don B and True are living it out. They're gangsters, and anything could happen to you fucking with them.”
“So, I guess ya man Stacks is a boy scout?” Jah asked sarcastically.
“Jah, you and I both know that's not the same thing. Stacks is a bastard, too, but he isn't local. You'd be on him for two to three days
tops before he was back on a plane to Texas. Any enemies you make with guarding True could be long-term.”
Jah sighed heavily. “Yoshi, how long I been in the streets? I can handle myself in any situation, boo. I'm the hardest nigga out. I can't be killed!” he playfully boasted.
“Yeah, that shit is funny now, but how funny will it be when I get that phone call in the middle of the night?”
“Yoshi, that ain't gonna be me,” he said seriously.
“Jah, nobody ever thinks it's gonna happen to them until they're on that gurney fighting for their lives,” she said emotionally. “I've seen this shit play out time and time again, where the good nigga catches the bullet and the piece of shit it was meant for skates without a scratch. I don't think I could take it.”
Yoshi rolled over to face him. He leaned in so close that their foreheads were touching. “Do you love me?”
“Of course I do,” she said.
“Then that's all I need to bring me home,” he said, and kissed her gently on the lips. “I'll be fine, ma.” He headed to the door. Before exiting the bedroom he turned back to Yoshi. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too,” she whispered to the closing bedroom door. The moment Jah left a cold chill swept through the bedroom. She knew that Jah was a street soldier and could handle himself, but a sense of dread filled her. She knew nothing positive could come from hanging with Don B and True, but Jah insisted on keeping his word. Sometimes she hated that he was like that, but it didn't change anything. Yoshi clicked on the television and settled in to wait up for Jah to come home.
“I'M TELLING YOU NOW, MARCUS,
if yo ass go in there acting like you ain't got no sense, it's on and popping!” Billy warned him. Her arms were folded firmly against her chest, which she tended to do when she was heated.
“Billy, why you acting like that, ma?” he asked, slipping his diamond chain over his head. He knew damn well why she was acting like that, but he asked the question just to irritate her. Seeing her
uptight reminded him of when he was courting her. Billy made him move heaven and earth for her affection, but at the end of the day it was well worth it.
“Don't play with me, Marcus, you know damn well why I'm acting like this. I don't want none of them stinking-ass hos all up on my piece!”
“Billy, I'm around pussy damn near every night of the week, and if I ain't strayed yet, I ain't gonna stray.” He pulled her close to him. She tried to push him away, but he held her tight. “Baby, I'd rather go blind than look at a woman other than you.” He kissed her.
“And you sure would, cause I'd cut your damn eyes out of your head.” She nicked his bottom lip. “And you better not be in there tipping them hos.”
“Billy, it ain't even that type of party. I'm rolling with Shooter to check out some new girls for the club.”
“Oh, and that's supposed to make me feel secure. That old-ass man is hornier than the damn kids I coach.”
“That Viagra is a muthafucka!” Marcus laughed. “But on the real, I'm gonna behave myself.” He kissed her once more and then broke their embrace. Shooter and Raheem were downstairs waiting for him, so he had to go.
“You better, nigga! I love you, Marcus.” She patted him playfully on the ass as he passed.
“I love you too, Willamina,” he snickered, and closed the door behind him.
“Asshole!”
WITH THE DARKNESS SWEEPING OVER THE ROTTEN
Apple like the shadow of death over Egypt, the children of the night began to stir. The normally quiet block of 128th Street, between Fifth and Lenox avenues, was abuzz with activity. Luxury cars slow-coasted down the block in a futile attempt to find parking, or to see who was at the set. Nobody wanted to miss out on Ice's party.
For the auspicious occasion, Black Ice had rented out an entire brownstone, including the lower levels, which would be used for the real entertainment. Ice had spared no expense making sure the house was jam-packed with ladies. From the exotic island of St. Lucia to the slums of Charlotte, N.C., Ice made sure they came in droves. Fifty-three of the finest hos he could scrape up, all ready to do business.
As expected, the rappers made a grand entrance. Led by Don B's signature red Bentley, a caravan of at least five luxury cars made their way down the block. Men hung from sun roofs, and out windows, popping shit and throwing up gang signs. Cooter wanted to let off some rounds in the air from an AK47 he had bought from some big head Dominicans off Broadway, but Soda convinced him it was a bad
idea. Instead, he resorted to shouting obscenities and spraying champagne all over parked cars. To say that these cats were ignorant would've been an understatement.
As the two crews filed out of the cars and made their way towards the brownstone entrance, the crowd went crazy. Even with the aid of Stacks's security team, Remo and Devil had trouble holding off the throngs of people trying to get autographs or integrate themselves into the crowd to gain quicker entry into the club. It was amazing to Jah to see grown-ass men acting like starstruck groupies. While security did crowd control, Jah's eyes continuously swept the crowd for hostile faces.
“Big Bear, what it is?” Don B greeted the hulking bouncer who stood vigil outside the front door of the brownstone.
“Ain't nothing, Don. Trying to get a meal ticket.” He let him pass without a search, as he did with most of their crew. It was only when he got to Jah that he stopped him. “Oh, hell nah,” Bear said, placing a hand against Jah's chest.
“Bear, what's popping? You ain't happy to see me?” Jah smiled at him.
“Happy to see you? Lil nigga, I should bust ya shit for getting me fired!” A year earlier Bear had made the mistake of allowing Jah into a club he was working while armed. Jah promised not to cause trouble, but of course he did. The young man had caused a stampede inside the club and escaped with Yoshi through a side entrance before Bear could catch up with him. Since Bear was at the door, the club owners fired him and threatened to bring him up on criminal charges if he came within one hundred feet of the spot.
“Man, that wasn't my fault. Them niggaz was tripping,” Jah tried to explain.
“It ain't never your fault, Jah,” Bear scolded. “Up the strap, cause I know you holding.” Bear extended his hand.
“Come on, man, I'm on the job,” Jah told him.
“And I'm Britney Spears,” Bear said sarcastically. “I ain't letting ya monkey ass in with no hammer.”
“He's with us, Bear,” True told the bouncer.
Bear was waiting for True to say it was a joke, but True wasn't smiling. “You serious?” He looked from Jah to True.
“As a heart attack. He's my personal security,” True informed him.
Bear hesitated. “A'ight, you got that. But I'm telling you now,” Bear pointed his finger at Jah, “if you start any shit tonight I'm gonna kick ya ass personally.”
“Whatever, nigga,” Jah taunted him before slipping behind True into the brownstone.
The air inside the brownstone was muggy and stale. It smelled like cigarette smoke and musty pussy, but the vibe was crazy. Ballers from all over were staggering around chasing naked women and drinking like it was the last supper. Never in Jah's young life had he seen as many women in one place at one time, and he seriously hoped that all the sweet pussy wouldn't distract him from the task at hand.
Inside the club they were greeted by Wendy, who was dressed in a yellow thong-and-bra set under a see-through teddy. She escorted the rappers and their thick entourage to the third floor, which was reserved for VIPs, and seated them at a large table in the back, where there were complimentary bottles of champagne already chilling. Though the action on the third floor wasn't as intense as on the lower levels, it was still packed with females.
Soda was the first to grab a bottle and start chugging. “This is what I'm talking about. A nigga gone get his double L on in this bitch,” Soda said, slapping a dark-skinned honey on the ass as she walked by.
“What's double L?” True asked him.
“Leaned and laid!” Soda roared, turning the bottle upside down.
LAZY STOOD OUTSIDE THE BROWNSTONE,
mad at himself for not being on time. He knew that Don B and the gang had set the meet time at eleven thirty, but he had been so caught up in his bullshit with Michelle that time had passed him by. He still wasn't quite sure how he had managed to get himself caught up.
When Michelle had broken the news to him he was totally numb.
A
baby?
Oh hell nah, that was something he definitely wasn't ready for. He was just a kid himself. He tried to explain to Michelle that she should get an abortion because a baby would only complicate things, but she hit him with some shit about how it went against her religion as a Catholic. That was laughable, because he had never seen her go to church since he'd known her. Still, he couldn't force her into it. He'd contemplated the idea of beating her into a miscarriage but didn't have the heart for it. She literally had him by the balls. For as much game as Lazy thought he had, Michelle apparently had a bit more.
In light of the bullshit he was going through, he found himself missing Dena. She might not have had her own pad or job to speak of, but at least he knew that she was with him for who he was and not who he would become, like Michelle. Seeing Dena with another dude had driven him batty and he'd said some very hurtful things that he couldn't take back. He tried calling her to apologize, but she wouldn't pick up the phone. He'd thought about popping up at her house, but couldn't be sure what she had told Shannon, and Lazy didn't want a problem with him. He would just have to hope that their paths crossed in the street, so he could tell her how sorry he was and pray that they could work it out.
After almost twenty minutes of waiting, Lazy had finally made it to the front of the line. Slipping into his young star persona, he bopped to the front of the line, where the bouncer was looking at him with suspicious eyes. “What's good, my dude?”
Bear looked down at him and grumbled, “Fifty bucks and valid ID.”
Lazy looked at him as if he couldn't be serious. “Son, I'm here with the Don.”
Bear glared at him. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, that's right. This is big Lazy, star point guard for the Dawgz,” Lazy boasted loud enough for everyone to hear. When he saw Bear's face soften he thought he had pulled it off.
“Excuse me, Mr. Big Lazy from Dawg. How could I not recognize a star of your caliber? Of course you're here with Don B,” Bear said
sarcastically. “Say, who else is here with Don B?” He addressed the line. Almost all at once, everyone claimed allegiance to Big Dawg. Bear glared back down at Lazy. “Lil nigga, you and everybody else in this muthafucka is claiming to be somebody. Either cough up that fifty cash or get off the line.”
Lazy was about to black out on the bouncer when he was roughly shoved aside from behind. He spun around and found himself staring into the cold eyes of a man who was barely five feet tall. The man glared up at Lazy, who bit back the sharp words he was about to fire off and allowed him to pass. Trailing him were two more girls and the cat Lazy had gotten into it with at the park. The real kick in the ass was who the well-dressed man had on his arm.
“Dena?” Lazy whispered.
As sure as his ass was black, Dena strolled casually on the arm of Black Ice, moving towards the entrance of the brownstone. The stones in her ears looked like two flashlights, catching faint rays from the pale moon. She was dressed in a black evening gown with a diamond collar, and stiletto heels, which she walked on as easily as if they were sneakers. Her beautiful face was flawlessly made up and Shirley Temple curls danced all over her head. Lazy couldn't believe that this was the same teenage girl he had shared so many good times with, because at that moment she was looking like a grown-ass woman.
“What's up, D?” Lazy beamed at her. He could hardly contain himself, being so close to his one true love.
When she turned her eyes on him there was sleepiness to them, as if she had way too much to smoke. “Do I know you?” Dena asked, looking at him like he was a piece of shit.
“Word, you gonna play me to the left like that?” he asked, with hurt filling his voice.
“Baby, who is this lil nigga you're talking to?” Black Ice draped his arm around her. Just to make Lazy tight, he started kissing her cheek.
“Just some square-ass nigga that I thought I knew,” she said scornfully.
Lazy's body began to tremble with rage. “Dena, how you gonna
play like you don't know ya man? This nigga you wit don't know your heart like I do!”
“Young buck, you better calm down before you find ya self missing,” Shorty warned him.
Lazy ignored him. “So that's how it is, huh? You gonna play me for some fake-ass pimp?” Lazy wanted to cry, but there were too many people watching.
“Son, call me what you want, but the reality of it is that I'm probably the realest nigga your simpleminded ass will ever lay eyes on. Come on, baby.” Ice pulled Dena along. “If he ain't talking about cake then it ain't worth listening to.”
“I know that's right, Daddy,” she followed her new man into the club.
Lazy was left standing in front of the brownstone feeling like a meatball, with Dena and Ice's mocking laughter echoing in his ears.

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