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Authors: K'wan

Still Hood (28 page)

BOOK: Still Hood
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“Hey, baby.” Yoshi kissed Jah, but he was unresponsive, keeping his eyes on Red.
“What're you doing here?” Jah asked coldly.
“I came down to surprise you. I know we didn't get to finish our night properly, so I thought I'd come down and grab a drink with you right quick.” She slipped her arm around his waist to try and drain off some of the tension.
“I'll just bet,” Jah said, talking to Yoshi but staring at Red. The man fidgeted nervously under Jah's gaze.
“Oh, this is ya man?” Red asked, finally catching on. “No disrespect, my dude, but I used to know China, so I was trying to buy her a drink for old time's sake.”
Hearing the name China, he knew exactly how Red knew Yoshi and wasn't pleased with it. “Well, for as much as I appreciate you trying to buy my girl a drink, it ain't necessary, son.”
“My fault.” Red raised his hands. “See you around, China.” He winked before moving back across the dance floor to where his team was standing around.
“You shouldn't be here,” Jah said, turning to Yoshi.
“Damn, don't sound so thrilled to see me,” she said, sounding offended.
Jah pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. “You know I'm always happy to see you, but I'm working.”
“I know, sweetie and I ain't trying to be in your hair, that's why I brought them with me.” She motioned towards Billy and Reese. Until she pointed them out he hadn't even noticed they were there.
“What's good, y'all?” Jah greeted them. He kept his face pleasant, but his eyes kept flashing over to Larry Love.
“Baby, not here.” Yoshi touched his hand. From the pleading look in her eyes he knew she had spotted Larry, too.
“Maybe not here, but somewhere,” he assured here. Yoshi wanted to argue further, but she knew that that was a confrontation that she couldn't deny Jah.
“Anyway, we're gonna shake out and have some drinks, but when you get a minute, come throw one back with us, okay?” She placed a hand on his chest.
“I'll do that, ma.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Let me get back over here to True and them niggaz, but I'll have my eye on you, too.” He pinched her.
“I sure hope so,” Yoshi told him, as she went to join her girls. Knowing Jah was watching, she threw it as hard as she could, giving him something to think about for later on.
Jah stood there wearing a goofy grin until she was out of site—and then made tracks for the bathroom. Once inside, he locked himself in a stall and hopped on his cell phone. “Yo, Tech, wake ya ass up. I need you to do something for me.”
“SAY, MAN, I KNOW YOU
ain't trying to tap that? Shorty is locked up tighter than Fort Knox,” Cooter joked, as Jah walked back over.
“Show some respect to my man's girl,” True said.
Cooter looked from Jah to True disbelievingly. “You're shitting me? Hot damn, young boy, there may be some hope for you after all!” Cooter slapped Jah on his back and laughed hysterically. Jah didn't find the joke so amusing.
“Guess that's why she ain't wanna give you no rhythm?” Soda teased Stacks. He was borderline drunk and his humor was very ill-timed.
“Soda, why don't you shut ya stupid ass up,” Stacks ordered, hoping that Jah didn't take offense. He knew that Yoshi was Jah's girl, but that hadn't stopped him from pressing her. He tried everything from gifts to money, but she still wasn't moved. Whatever hold Jah had over Yoshi, it was a secure one.
“So, y'all had any luck tracking them boys down that tried to blast on the young'n?” Stacks asked, trying to change the subject.
“Yeah, we got some names, but still no location,” Don B admitted.
“Man, they lucky this ain't Houston. Let a muthafucka try to kill Soda, and it'd have been at least a hundred niggaz trying to bring me they heads. You better tighten ya ship, Don,” Stacks taunted him.
“New York is a big city, Stacks,” Don B said in a neutral tone.
“Houston might not be as big a city as New York, but trust and believe that whole muthafucka belongs to me,” Stacks said in a matter-of-fact tone. He and Don B locked eyes. Though there was no threat coming from either man, both crews tensed. The tension lingered for what seemed like forever, but was broken up by a loud thumping sound.
“Ain't this about a bitch!” Cooter said, looking down at Soda, who had fallen clean off his chair.
“Put me in coach, I can still play,” Soda slurred. He was laying flat on his back, looking like he was trying to make snow angels.
“That muthafucka is done,” Don B patted Stacks on the back.
“Sho is,” he agreed.
IT WAS ALMOST SATURDAY MORNING WHEN DENA
got back to Jefferson Avenue. She had awakened from the comalike sleep Ice had put her into and found that her muscles were wracked with cramps. She thought that she was going to keel over and die, but of course Ice was there for her. He explained to her that it was a side effect of the Love Boat and that, as she got used to it, the cramps would fade—which was a lie, but she bought into it because someone who loved her the way Ice proclaimed to love her so much would never put her in harm's way. With this in mind, she snorted some more Love Boat with Black Ice.
When she stepped out of the truck her legs felt like spaghetti. Black Ice had made love to her in as many ways as possible and she took it like a champ, he even taught her to properly deep-throat a man. Around the forth or fifth round, they had ran through the magnums as well as the condoms they were able to scrounge up from the front desk, so they didn't even bother with one. She wasn't worried about catching anything, because Ice looked to be the picture of perfect health.
Black Ice had sexed her all afternoon, through the evening, and going into the next morning, and she loved every
nasty-ass minute of it. It was safe to say that he had awakened the woman trapped inside the little girl.
“I wanna thank you for a wonderful time.” Dena came around to the driver's side. “I've never had this much fun in my life!”
“Come on, cutie, shit like this should go on in ya life regularly.” He touched her cheek. “Fucking with the Ice Man has its privileges.”
“I'm trying to see about that,” she told him.
“That's what I'm trying to tell you, baby. Dena, I'm feeling ya style in a major way, and I can see somebody like you on my arm when I step out. But I only deal with the most qualified ladies. Ladies that I know will go hard for their man, feel me?”
“Oh, I feel you!” she assured him. “Ice, I'm tired of dealing with loser-ass niggaz. For once I wanna be on the winning team.”
“Ask and you shall receive, sweet princess.” He winked at her. “Check it, though.” He placed a small piece of tinfoil in her hand. “Take this in case them nasty cramps come back. You should be good, but I'd hate to think of my new lady being uncomfortable.”
“Always thinking of me, huh?” She stuffed the foil in her purse.
“Even when I'm trying not to. Dena, I'm gonna open you up to a whole new world. Fucking with the Ice Man, there's going to be nothing but the best for you,” he proclaimed. “Go on and get some rest and I'll get with you this afternoon.” Ice put the truck in gear and peeled off. Dena almost got her foot ran over when she leaned in to kiss him good night. After the things he had done to her body, she could let him slide on the kiss.
Dena turned around to walk into her building and herd someone shouting her name. Her body stiffened, hoping it was a bad dream. She knew that voice could only belong to one person, and when she turned around it was confirmed. Her mother, standing there with a scarf on a jacket over her pajamas, looking mad as hell.
“Ma, what you doing out here on the stoop?” Dena asked.
“What am I doing on the stoop? The better question is what the hell you are doing climbing out of some nigga's car in the wee hours like a common whore,” her mother snapped.
“Ain't nobody hoing, ma. That was Sharon's uncle dropping me off. I just came from her house,” Dena said.
Her mother squinted her eyes. “If you'll lie, you'll steal. Sharon called here twice looking for you. She said she couldn't reach you on the cell and neither could I. What's good with that?”
Dena had completely forgotten she had cut her cell phone off when she and Ice were having sex. “Look, if you must know, I was out on a date,” Dena huffed.
“Date? With who? I know Lance ain't got no truck. And where did all that stuff come from?” She motioned towards the shopping bags Dena was carrying.
“It wasn't Lance,” Dena said, walking toward the building. Dena's mother grabbed her arm with a force she didn't know her mother possessed, and spun her around.
“Little heifer, I ain't Nadine or Shannon, so don't try me wit that walking away shit, you hear me?” her mother snarled.
“Yes, Mommy,” Dena said sheepishly.
“I don't know what the hell has gotten into you lately, Dena. You're running around with these gangsta-ass niggaz and fast-ass girls like Sharon and Monique. What happen to the nice schoolgirls you used to run around with, like Rachel?”
“Rachel got pregnant and moved to Atlanta,” Dena informed her.
“That's beside the point. I don't like the looks of some of these characters you run around with, and that's the skinny of it,” she said, as if she was going to have the last word. But of course, Dena couldn't let it rest.
“There's a lot of stuff I don't like, but you don't hear me complaining about it,” Dena mumbled, making her way into the building.
“What did you just say?” Her mother stopped short.
“Nothing.” Dena kept walking.
“Nah-uh, you're Buster Badass, so say what you gotta say.”
Dena faced her mother and took a deep breath. “Alright then. Look, Ma, you come down on me about any- and everything under the sun, but you let Nadine and Shannon run wild. How fair do you think that is to me?”
“First of all, I was a much younger mother when I had Nadine, and because I gave her freedom, look how she turned out. I love my daughter, but I wish her and her bad-ass kids would move the hell out of my house. And Shannon, he was outta my hands since day one. The boy has got way too much of his father in him. You, on the other hand, I had a plan for. Why do you think I bust my ass working two jobs to make sure you didn't want for nothing?”
“Some plan! Locking me down in the house?” Dena said sarcastically.
“You need to be glad I locked you ass down; or maybe you wanna be like them lil derelict bitches on the stoop?”
“At least they're not prisoners in their own homes,” Dena shot back.
“Dena, you can pop that fly shit until the cows come home, but I'm the boss around this muthafucka. When you go off to college and are out on your own, then you can talk some shit. Until then you dance to my music.”
“Well, maybe I need to speed things up a bit,” Dena stormed up the stairs. On the way up she bumped into Shannon. He tried to say something to her, but she brushed past him and kept going into the apartment.
“And where the hell are you going?” his mother barked.
“Dag, I'm just going to the store. What's your problem?” Shannon asked. They were all good before she bumped into Dena.
“My problem is the crazy-ass hours of the night you choose to run the streets. Ain't nothing but killers and crackheads running round this time of night. Which category do you fall into?”
“I sure as hell ain't no crackhead,” he chuckled.
His mother pointed her finger in his face. “Don't play with me Shannon. And why is it that every time I turn around your name is associated with some street shit.”
“Ma, what are you talking about?” Shannon asked, genuinely not knowing what his mother was talking about. He had been involved in so much shit that she could've meant anything.
“Little Bunchy from over Tompkins way said she heard you was out here shooting the other night,” his mother accused.
“Bunchy is lying. I wasn't even on the block last night. Ma, how you gonna listen to a crackhead?”
“Crackhead or not, that's the word on the streets. I'm telling you now, the police better not come round my damn house looking for you again. The last time they broke my new china cabinet looking for some damn drugs.”
“Nah, the police ain't got no reason to come around here looking for me,” he said. Making a mental note to himself to slap the shit out of Bunchy when he saw her.
“They damn well better not. And since you're supposedly going to the store, bring me back a cold Pepsi. I forgot to get it when I went out.”
Shannon wasn't stupid, he knew this was her way of getting him to come right back. She was going through something, so he wasn't gonna give her a hard time about it. The streets would be there the following night. “Okay, Mommy,” he said, continuing down the stairs.
DENA WENT DIRECTLY INTO HER
room and slammed the door. Her mother had her so mad that she wanted to cry, fight, and a whole list of other things, but all she could do was stew on it. She was almost eighteen years old and her mother was still treating her like the little girl who went to the store for dollars. If a man as worldly as Black Ice could recognize her as a grown woman, why couldn't her own mother? Dena felt like she was going to have a nervous breakdown, and she needed to get out of the house.
She took out her cell and punched in Ice's number. When he picked up she asked, “Are you still in the area?”
SHANNON TOOK HIS TIME COMING
back from the store. He had a Dutch Master tucked behind his ear and a Red Stripe in a bag. He planned to smoke a blunt and drink a beer before he went upstairs, but when he saw the familiar white Escalade bend the corner he suspected that his plan would be altered.
Shannon bent the corner in time to see Dena coming down the steps of the building, carrying some stuff in shopping bags. She gave a careful glance around before scurrying to the truck. He called her name, and he knew she heard him, because she looked in his direction, but she continued to the truck. Shannon dropped his beer and broke into a run, but by the time he made it to his building the truck was already at the corner of Jefferson and Marcus Garvey.
WHEN LARRY LOVE LEFT ENVY
he wasn't feeling any pain. On his arm he had a tall brown-skinned honey by the name of Roxy. She had been with another girl, who Larry tried to convince to come along, but she wasn't into the group sex thing, so they parted ways, leaving Larry with the shapelier of the two. Shorty had a mean body, but wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. All she did was talk, but Larry had something she could stick in her mouth to shut her up.
Larry and a drunken Roxy staggered to the curb and tried to hail a cab. It took them a good minute, but they finally managed to catch a driver who was just coming out and needed to make that bread. Larry told the driver where to take them and settled back to enjoy the kisses Roxy was planting on his neck.
TECH WAITED FOR THE YELLOW
cab to pull out into traffic before he motioned to his driver to follow. The Senegalese Harlem cab driver had gotten a bad vibe from the young man when he picked him up, but he paid for the three hours hold time in advance, so he took the fare. He didn't know what the young man had planned for the drunk couple, but he knew from the look in his eyes it was nothing nice.
BOOK: Still Hood
13.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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