The California Saga (29 page)

“Okay, where to?” Misty said, interrupting my moment of silence.

I gave her directions to my crib, and minutes later, we were pulling up in my driveway.

“Would you like to come in?” I offered.

“Sure.”

Misty followed me through the door. Once inside, we got comfortable on the couch.

“You okay, Touch?” she asked, noticing the worry on my face.

“Just a little stressed out. This is two encounters with death I've had in a short time. Worse, I could have gotten you killed. Basically, you're the reason I'm here. What the fuck you doing with a gun anyway? And where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?”

“First of all, don't worry about me. I'm used to this, Touch. I've lived this life before. My ex-boyfriend was heavy into the drug game too, so I was ducking and dodging bullets and had to be on point every day.”

Something about Misty's statement made me stop and think.
What the fuck she means, “into the drug game too”? Who the fuck said I was in the drug game?
I'd hoped Jewel's ass didn't run her mouth to this bitch. I'd told Jewel time and time again not to trust anyone, especially no bitch. You think she would have learned her lesson from Sasha.

“I know it must be stressful.” Misty stroked my face as she spoke to me.

“Stressful ain't the word, ma. When I first got shot, I wondered if I would ever be back to my old self. Now I'm better, and I've got to wonder if I'd live to see the next day. I've got beef coming in every direction, and on top of that, I don't even know if I can trust the chick I was gonna make my wife. Right now I feel like it's me against the world. Real talk.” For the first time, I was able to express the shit that had been on my mind.

“Aaawww, you poor baby.” Misty wrapped her arms around me and playfully kissed my cheek.

Seeing this as the perfect opportunity, I began to kiss her. And, just like I figured, she didn't resist. I slid my hand underneath her loose blouse and began to massage her breast. One touch of her nipple and my manhood rose to the occasion.

“Uuummm,” Misty moaned.

I gently laid her down, and she assisted me in taking her shirt off.

One by one I sucked her breasts, while slowly sliding my hand into her panties. I had to be sure to make each move right. I didn't want to take the chance of her resisting and deciding not to go through with things.

Once my hands were in her panties, I buried my fingers deep between her fat pussy lips. Feeling the thickness and moisture alone of her pussy made me want to bust. No longer able to resist, I pulled off my jeans, slipped on a jimmy hat, and before I knew it, I was all up that fat pussy I had been admiring earlier.

 

 

D
amn! What a fucking night
! I thought as I opened the door to my hotel room. On a whim, Diablo and I had rolled up on Touch. Of course, after I'd led Diablo to believe Touch had robbed me, there was no way he could run into Touch and not defend his shit. I wasn't expecting to be in the middle of a shootout, but even more shocking was seeing Touch come out of the bar with another chick. From what I'd heard, him and Jewel was getting married, and from the looks of things, they were really into each other.

A part of me was actually kind of happy to have the opportunity to fire shots though. Most of mine were aimed at that bitch Touch was with. If I couldn't have him, then no one would. I'd rather destroy the empire than let another bitch sit on the throne.

After our little incident, Diablo had to settle things with the guys I was supposed to deliver the package to. I listened as he talked to them on the phone.

“Yeah, man, I got you,” Diablo said. “I know shit got fucked up, but I ain't even trying to hold on to niggas' money. You know what I mean? I'm saying, that's why I'm here now.”

Diablo was explaining his ass off. From the looks of things, niggas was really pissed off.

After he got off the phone, I asked him, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, man,” he said with a distressed look on his face.

“You sure?”

“Man, that nigga Touch really fucking my shit up. This is a hell of a loss I'm taking right now, but I gotta straighten niggas to keep business going, ya dig?”

“I feel you.”

For a split second, I almost felt bad for stealing from Diablo, but I really couldn't be certain that it was actually guilt that I was feeling, especially since I'd never felt guilt before. The way I saw it, shit happens, so charge it to the game.

After Diablo set his boys straight, he headed back to Atlanta. Me, on the other hand, I had to stay back to find a way to get rid of the drugs I'd taken from him. I hadn't the slightest idea who I could go to.

 

 

Determined to get that money, I used my only resource. I headed to the strip club, The Hot Spot. As an ex-stripper, I knew a lot of the local as well as out-of-town drug dealers that hung out there.

Walking into the strip club, I didn't notice too many familiar faces. People would come and go at the strip club all the time. Stripping wasn't a line of work that exactly guaranteed job stability. One day you're there, the next day you're not. One day the money is good, the next day it's not. But even with all those downfalls, bitches still couldn't break away from the strip game. I guess it was the fast money that was so damn addictive. Just like niggas with the drug game, it was hard to let go.

“Malibu, girl, is that you?” a voice called out, addressing me by my dance name.

“It sure is,” I replied back to Candy and hugged her.

Candy, her real name Jennifer, was veteran to the strip game. She was actually the person responsible for my pole skills. She taught me how to work that pole in every way imaginable.

“How you been?” she asked, looking me up and down. “You coming back to work?”

Don't you wish, bitch
, I thought, knowing exactly what was going through her head.

It wasn't unusual for a current stripper to examine an ex-stripper in such a manner. I knew she was looking for any signs that I was struggling or doing bad. When a chick stops stripping, other chicks seem to think she has this I'm-better-than-you attitude. But in reality the current strippers are jealous of the ex-stripper, because they wish they were in the ex-stripper's shoes and had the same opportunity to stop dancing themselves. So if a chick happens to be one of those females that are fortunate enough to stop dancing and she comes in the strip club, the current dancer is always gonna be looking for something negative to say.

“I'm fine, girl. Just dropping through. I'm not here for work.” I put any suspicion Candy had to rest then switched the subject. “How's Lamont doing?”

“Next month he'll be six.”

Candy pulled out her cell phone to show me the latest picture of her son. He was a real cutie with his two front teeth missing. Looking at that picture instantly made me miss my boys.

“I'm glad I ran into you. I need a little bit of information and help.”

“Whatcha need, boo? You know I got your back.”

“What I need to know is, where's the ballers at? Where's the niggas that's moving major weight around here?”

“See that nigga in the corner by the pool table? He goes by the name Murdock. That's one of the heaviest niggas that be coming to the club. That's who you want to get at.”

Candy assumed I was looking for a nigga to take care of me or to run some tricks with, but that was better for me. The less that bitch knew, the better.

“Thanks, girl. Do me a favor. Have the bartender send him over whatever he is drinking.” I handed her a hundred-dollar bill.

I quickly went to the bathroom to look myself over and make sure my boobs were sitting up pretty and nice. Women would pay to have boobs like mine, but lucky me, I was just blessed with an awesome rack. Besides this fat cat, that was one of my greatest assets, and men couldn't keep their eyes off them.

After his drink arrived, Murdock looked around to see who sent him his bottle of Nuvo. I raised my matching glass of Nuvo to him and nodded my head, giving him a seductive smile.

After twenty minutes or so, I headed over to him.

“Hmm. I'm a little impressed. I ain't never had a female buy me a bottle, or even a drink, as a matter of fact. And you are?” He smiled at me.

I gave him a fake name and grinned back at him. “My name is Cara.”

“It's nice to meet you, Cara. So what's up with you, little momma?”

“Well, I got some birds that are ready to move, and word on the streets is, you the nigga I should be hollering at,” I explained with much confidence, although inside I felt a little uneasy. Normally I wouldn't take these types of chances, but I needed to get rid of Diablo's product, and fast. My back was against the wall.

“How much you want for them?”

We negotiated pricing. He got over a little, but a bitch was desperate, and anything was a profit for me, considering it wasn't my shit to begin with.

“A'ight den, it's settled. All I need to know is where and when?”

“In an hour, meet me in the parking lot of Military Circle Mall near the movie theater,” I said, figuring that was a pretty safe place.

 

 

An hour came and went. I swear, muthafuckers didn't know the meaning of being on time. Murdock was running only ten minutes late, but each minute I waited felt like an eternity. I sat there nervous as hell and shaking. This should have been a smooth transaction.

I saw a couple of guys pulling up next to me in an Escalade. I put one in the head and held the gun by my side, just in case some shit popped off. The two unknown guys stood by my driver and passenger door barricading it.

What the hell is going on?
Before I could process anything, one of the guys was in my face.

“Roll the window down!” he ordered.

I refused to roll the window down as he instructed.

“Do what the fuck I say and I won't blow your stupid ass up,” he explained, holding up a grenade.

A grenade? This nigga can't be serious.
I figured this had to be some type of joke so I yelled at him, “I ain't doing shit!”

He giggled. “Your ass will be blown to pieces.”

I reached toward the gearshift to put my car in drive to pull off from this stupid-ass nigga.

“Not so fast.”

Before I could react, my window was broken, and glass was shattered all over my face.

“Hey, Cara, or should I say Sasha,” Murdock stepped in and greeted me.

I wondered how the fuck he knew who I really was. “I'm not Sasha. My name is—”

“Yo, I'm not trying to hear shit you got to say. Hand me over that bag,”

Murdock cut me off mid-sentence.

“I am not giving you the drugs.”

Bam!
Murdock punched me in the side of my face with one hand and pulled me out the window of the car with the other. Then I felt the barrel of a gun pressed against my cheek.

Once my head stopped spinning and the stars before my eyes disappeared, I turned around to see a fucking AK in my face. That's when I started to realize this wasn't a joke at all. These niggas were literally ready for war, and I wasn't gonna put up a fight. I knew this would be a battle I would lose. The thought of my sons were still fresh in my head.

“Put that shit up, nigga. Y'all couldn't wait for an opportunity to pull out the toys, huh?” Murdock barked. “Y'all niggas don't need all that shit for this little bitch.”

Bam!
I caught another punch to the face.

“Okay, okay, I'll give you the bag.”

“See . . . all it takes is a little manhandling.” Murdock laughed.

I struggled to my feet and headed toward the car. I opened the front door pretending I was going for the bag but grabbed my gun instead.

Blap!
Murdock's boy hit me in the face with the butt of the gun. He'd obviously gotten a glimpse of me heading for my piece. “I told you this shit would come in handy.”

By this time blood was running down my face profusely, and my eyes were nearly swollen shut. I grabbed the bag and handed it to Murdock.

“I was hoping you would choose life.” Murdock snatched the bag away. He quickly hopped back in his truck and sped off.

Karma's a real bitch.
I shook my head in disappointment and exhaled. “Fuck you, karma! You bitch!” I yelled out loud.

I grabbed some napkins out of the glove box and put it on my bleeding wound then put my car in drive and drove away empty-handed.

 

 

Severely depressed, frustrated, and tired of Touch ignoring me, I headed to Applebee's to pick up my favorite takeout order, buffalo wings with extra sauce and extra blue cheese dressing on the side, and French fries. I was hoping it would cheer me up. I'd tried calling Misty several times but couldn't reach her. I figured it would have been nice to have a girls' night out and discuss how things went when she met with Touch. But after calling her four times and texting her six times, I was probably becoming a bugaboo, which wasn't intentional. But I was really anxious to know what Touch had to say.

I have to admit, I was kind of upset when Misty didn't answer my calls, but I had to realize she had a life of her own, not to mention a very demanding job. Basically I had to check myself and appreciate all the time she'd already taken to truly listen about how I felt. Misty had provided comfort throughout my struggles with Touch. What more could a friend ask for?

The hostess greeted me with a smile as I walked through the restaurant door. “Hi. Welcome to Applebee's.”

“Hello. I'm here to pick up a takeout order. The first name is Jewel,” I explained, taking off my sunglasses.

“It's not ready yet. You're welcome to wait at the bar or right here by the sitting lounge,” she offered. “I'll call you when it's ready.”

“Thank you. I'll wait at the bar,” I replied and walked over to the bar and took a seat.

“Hi. What can I get for you?” the bartender asked in the midst of taking another waiter's handwritten order.

“A pomegranate martini,” I replied, hoping a nice drink would calm my nerves. After all, Applebee's pomegranate martini was my favorite.

Since me and Touch's fallout, there were times I couldn't get my hands to stop shaking. It was like my nerves had taken over me and my anxiety level was off the charts. I was still in shock that Touch had actually left me because he thought I was fucking a nothing-ass nigga like Poppo. Plus, on top of everything, he had the audacity to be fucking another bitch, as if that was okay. The thought of this whole situation made my temples tighten. I could feel a tension headache coming on. I was even more pissed that I went through all the trouble to mend things between us, and he comes over and fucks me and leaves, like I was some chick off the streets. I couldn't even get him to talk to me or listen to what I had to say at the least. Deep inside I felt hopeless about my recurring dream of us getting married. I knew there wouldn't be a wedding day.

“I'm here to pick up a to-go order,” a female voice beside me said.

I looked up to see Misty standing beside me. “Misty?”

“Jewel! Hey, girl!” She gave me a big hug.

“I've been trying to reach you. Haven't you gotten my calls and texts?”

“Yes, baby. I'm so sorry. I've been so busy. You wouldn't know all the things that have been going on.”

“Jewel,” another voice called out, interrupting me and Misty's conversation.

“Poppo,” I answered, recognizing the voice.

“Hey, what's going on with the beautiful Jewel?” he asked.

“You got that right. I am beautiful,” I responded, even though deep down I didn't truly feel that way.

Misty butted in quickly. “Well, I gotta run, girl.”

“Oh, okay. I really wanted to sit and talk though.”

“I'll call you as soon as I get a free moment. I promise.” Misty grabbed her bag and rushed out of the restaurant.

“That's your girl?” Poppo asked after Misty walked away.

“Yeah. Why? You want to holla at her or something?”

“Oh, nah. I already tried. That bitch got a mouth on her that a make a nigga beat her ass.”

“Why you say that? What did she say to you?”

“Well, that day I got locked up, I saw her at the jail, so I tried to holla. That bitch started talking some shit about me being a thug, and jail being my second home, straight dissing a nigga. Instead of cussing that bitch out, I just told her to have a nice day and walked off on her ass.”

“Damn! Sorry about that. Maybe she was having a bad day. I wonder why she was at the precinct anyway. Hope nothing was wrong. She said a lot has happened to her in the past days. Now I'm worried. Give me a second. Let me call her.”

I dialed Misty up.

This time she answered right away. “Hey, girl.”

“Hey, Misty. Is everything okay? My friend just told me he saw you at the precinct not too long ago.”

“Oh, girl, it was nothing. I had got locked up for a trespassing charge. I had seen my ex-boyfriend's car in front of this girl's house, so I went up there banging on the door, trying to get him to come out, and the bitch called the police on me. You know how that goes.”

“Yeah, I do. Okay, hon. I'm not gonna hold you. Call me when you're free. We really need to catch up.” I ended the call.

“Why you sitting at the bar by yourself?” Poppo asked as soon as I hung up the phone.

“I'm waiting for an order.”

“Let me take care of that for you.”

“Thanks.” I grinned after the bartender brought my drink.

“Listen, ma, I'm glad that I ran into you. I got some good news for you.”

“Well, it's about time. Go ahead, I'm listening.” I nodded.

“I thought that nigga Calico was done when he got locked up, but he's going up for a bond hearing in a few days, and his lawyer is confident he's getting a bond. After he gets bonded out, I'm going to personally pick him up and handle things for you.”

“Well, as long as you make shit happen, our deal is still good. Once Calico is out the way, I will put you on to one of my TMF connects.” I assured Poppo as if my word was golden.

“Bartender, please . . . another drink for the lady. Now, you know I can't let you eat alone. You want to get a table?” Poppo asked.

“Sure.” I giggled. It felt nice to have someone paying a little attention to me, especially since Touch wasn't even bothering to look my way.

At the table I noticed Poppo constantly staring into my eyes. “Why are you staring at me?” I blushed.

“It's not every day a man sees something as beautiful as you.”

“Wow! You got a little game with you, huh?”

“This isn't game, baby. You can't appreciate those type of compliments because these lames you been fucking with don't know how to cherish a woman like you.” Poppo grabbed my hand.

I didn't know how to respond to Poppo's comment. In a way I took it as a diss because he was insinuating I have poor taste in men, but at the same time he was giving me a compliment by saying I was an exceptional woman. Since I didn't know what to say, I didn't say anything at all. I just smiled.

“If you were my woman, I would give you the world. You would never feel pain, hurt, sadness, or disappointment. You would always be on a pedestal.”

Okay now, I knew this nigga was putting it on thick. He was talking straight bullshit. “Whatever.” I knew exactly how to respond to that bullshit-ass statement.

“I know you feel like I'm just popping shit, but it's cool. I can show you better than I can tell you. That bitch nigga you with fucked your head up.”

“Damn! You keep saying shit like I'm some sad case, a woman scorned or some shit. And why Touch gotta be a bitch?” I snapped. I was getting tired of Poppo's little comments, and he had crossed the line talking about Touch. I mean, I wasn't really feeling Touch, but I still loved him, and I wasn't gonna let no nigga diss him, especially no one from Calico's camp.

“Hold on, baby girl. Don't take offense. I'm just saying . . . I don't know what the next dude thought of you, but you're my dream woman, and by all means I would treat you like it. I would never take you for granted.”

I thought,
Damn! Who the fuck is this nigga?
He was blowing me away. Just that quick, he'd made my whole attitude change. I didn't know if I'd just never given this nigga the opportunity to see what he was really like or if he was a different Poppo. Back in the day, I would have never even considered him an option, but this nigga really had me going. I didn't know if it was because I was so vulnerable from me and Touch's breakup, or if it was the alcohol, or if Poppo's game was just simply on point. I was actually starting to feel him a little bit. I needed to calm down.

“Miss, can I get another drink?” I was feeling a little tipsy, but I didn't care. After those days of pure hell I'd been through, I deserved to have a little fun. Poppo was saying all the right things, and I was sucking it all up.

“You want some more wings?” Poppo asked.

“Sure.” I nodded. Not eating much in days, I guess I had worked up an appetite. When my emotions were out of whack, my body was too. My head, back, muscles, and joints all ached like I had the flu or something, when in reality it was all stress.

The waitress came back. “Here is your drink. Can I get you anything else?”

“Yes, she'll have another order of wings,” Poppo said.

“With extra blue cheese dressing,” I added before guzzling down yet another drink.

“Coming right up,” the waitress said.

“You really want those wings,” Poppo commented.

“Yes, I sure do. I probably could eat them all day.” I giggled.

“Jewel, shit is about to be right for us,” Poppo whispered in my ear, changing the subject.

“Okay.” I laughed.

I was in no condition to discuss things further, but I figured he was talking about money. Plus, I had to use the bathroom. All that alcohol I'd drank was going right through me.

“I appreciate your patience with the whole situation.”

“No problem. I need to run to the bathroom.”

I struggled to get up then stumbled, but Poppo caught me just in time before I fell to the ground.

“Maybe you should cool off with the alcohol. Why don't you go back to my house and chill? Are you all right to drive?”

“Yeah, I'm okay to drive to your house. I need a minute to use the bathroom,” I said while he helped me there.

I had to admit, it was sweet that he was so concerned about me. The average nigga would have tried to keep me drinking, so they could get a “drunk fuck” out of me.