Girls from da Hood 14

by Treasure Hernandez

  Sable sat back on the top stairs of her house. As she looked back at the screen door barely on the hinges and the cardboard duct taped up to one of the broken front windows, all she could do was shake her head. She knew her friend was right in what he was saying. Her current situation was dismal. Unemployed, no leads on at least a part-time job and a mother that nursed Wild Irish Rose as if it were a baby’s bottle, the young girl was on the verge of tears. Fighting them back, not one part of her being had any physical desire to link with Mike Mike, but what choice did she have? Although she was cute and had a decent shape, that meant much of nothing. A pretty girl came a dime a dozen. Not wanting to continue to struggle, Sable chose wisely. She gave in to the man that was blessing her with cash from time to time. Now, she could have access to Mike Mike’s money on the regular. Licking her lips, she spoke while standing up. “So, okay, boy, I’m in. I’ma rock out with you.”

  “Forever and fucking five days after that shit?” Mike Mike asked with a huge smile plastered across his face. “’Cause when you mines, you mines for life.”

  “Forever and five fucking days,” Sable reaffirmed before going into her house to pack her bags and gather whatever other belongings she was going to take into her new existence.

  Suffering both physically and financially, Mike Mike had bloody murder on his mind. The woman he’d cherished so much had played him for a total fool. He knew he’d been outta pocket from time to time with them ass kickings and getting high. But so fucking what? When Sable signed on to be on his team, she understood it was until death do they part. Now she was trying to violate the rules. And for that, she would have to pay. Having to throw up once more, Mike Mike collapsed, forced to lie in his own vomit while plotting revenge.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Carla

  I watched from the second-floor deck as piles of beautiful ladies raced to line up to board the Sunrise. The palms of my hands were itching, which could only mean money was about to be made once again in large quantities. Our team of promoters had done good by fetching the female bitches on the beach, and I was ready to show myself, as well as them, a good time. After Gianna’s explosion at Wet Willie’s, once on ole girl and once with me, that relationship and connection had been seriously burned. A reckless chick could sneak into my camp now and then, but Gianna had crazy mapped out to a different level. Calling a few times to check what type of mood she was in, she shot me straight to voicemail, letting me know negotiations for an apology or make up weren’t a possibility anyway.

  She should’ve kept it cool, not fronting tough on me knowing, real talk, how I got down. Something deep down inside told me her sneaky ass was closely lurking, but business had to go on. Keeping a keen eye on my surroundings and watching over my shoulder, I had to stop fucking with chicks from the gutter. Being on the boat ever since leaving the strip, I made sure to get everything together and prepared for the clientele expected to arrive. Since all tickets were presold, I’m sure they’d buy all the liquor available too. My main focus was to have the entertainers make tips during their performances. Not wanting my name and reputation tarnished, I worked hard to make sure things were perfectly set up, and our special guests had their needs accommodated.

  “Carla, your ass is a genius. We saved hella big buying that bottom-grade, cheap liquor,” my partner walked up, giving me a high-five. “This time around, I mixed and matched them so that the heavy drinkers wouldn’t peep our front game.”

  “Look at the crowd, though.” I waved my hand upon even those stumbling up to the line dancing and getting the parking lot party started. “They’re already turned up and tipsy. So by now, they ain’t going for the taste.” I was schooled on this trick by another club owner who’s been scamming people for years. If you drink in Miami, it’s best to pop your own seal. Down here, we’ll sneak some shit in your drink and have you loose as a goose.

  “Yo’ sneaky ass trying to smash something tonight, ain’t you?” He leaned over, letting his dreads dangle. “Like that little shorty from Wet Willie’s,” he grinned, already knowing what was up.

  “Oh yeah, I was gonna holla at shorty, at least to apologize for Gianna making a scene.” I shook my head, not wanting to relive the incident. “I didn’t even know you were there.”

  “Excuse me ahead of time for saying this, Carla, but that chick is a straight firecracker. If she went straight nutty over the phone, I can only imagine how she’d clown on me in public. She can miss me with all that.”

  “You ain’t never lied, my dude, and I don’t blame you for staying in the shadows with Gianna in the perimeter. She’s the craziest pussy I’ve ever ran a dildo up in. I’m working on cutting her off, though. Especially if new booty gets at me,” I honestly admitted, knowing my prowl started on ole girl when I first kissed her soft hand.

  “Aaah, I feel that. I should try to holla at that evil-looking bitch. She could use some dick in her life,” he joked, giving me another play. “On second thought, she probably needs to be licked, so I’ll leave that to you. A nigga probably fucked her scorned ass.”

  “That pussy has got to be tainted as mean as she’s acting. Who in the hell comes to Miami with a pissy attitude?” We ran the joke into the ground as we both chilled back and waited for the official party to start. On cue, we’d welcome the guests aboard, then join them for a pool party they’d never forget.

  “Hey, check for new booty right there,” he pointed toward ole girl from earlier. With all the dumb shit and hollering Gianna was doing, I could barely catch her name, but I think it was Sable.

  “Aww, yeah, she showed up despite Gianna’s threats. I’m tapping that tonight, for sure,” I cockily nodded, watching my soon-to-be conquest with intensity.

  “Yeah, playa, you be having females out here thinking you all about girl power shit since you are one. But real talk, you’re worse than most males.” To me, he was hating ’cause I was touching more coochies than him on the regular. Most guys don’t want to be schooled by a chick, but I’m the queen of getting pussy, so take a lesson from me.

  I left his opinionated self with his thoughts, moving quickly to my cabin with a well-rolled blunt of some Kush and a little white lady. Surely, this fine, powdery substance would tame any spunk pretty li’l Sable had inside of her. I dipped some across the top of the weed before rolling it up. Feeling my tongue numb as I licked to seal it closed, I placed it behind my ear only to smoke later with my unsuspecting girl.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sable

  Walking up to the roped-off wooden dock to load on the Sunrise, Mike Mike was the last thing swirling around on my mind. He had been calling nonstop and sending threatening text messages requesting my whereabouts, but his fists couldn’t pound my face for ignoring him this time, so to the voicemail his calls kept going. Mike Mike deserved to be feeling like a broken-down piece of shit. I had no regrets finally being the woman to get over on him. The parking lot was already filled to the max with party buses, cars, and trucks of men and women ready to party on the boat known to rock the seas. And you could see at least a mile-long line of people still trying to pile in.

  “Welcome to the Sunrise, pretty ladies,” the greeter welcomed us as we handed over our boarding passes. “Let me guide you to your private cabins in preparation for the adventure we provide,” she grinned genuinely.

  “Oh, fa’sho, we picked the right promoter to trust,” Jazz blurted out, starting to skip up ahead of us. Walking to our private VIP cabin, she was eager to start her official birthday celebration. I was too, but Roxy was killing my vibe. Something about the way she was moving giving me fake grins still seemed suspect like earlier, but with having other problems, her snags were insignificant. She did get turned up and was back to herself on the bus—so maybe I was overreacting.

  Our jaws dropped in awe at how massively big and busy this ship was. The jazz waters were illuminating, and our room was directly off the main deck pool. With double queen-sized, pillow-top beds, couches, a flat-screen tele
vision, stacked bar, and Jacuzzi—the $800 was well worth it. We were stunting hard on the other partyers who only had access to low-level rooms or straggle privileges around common areas.

  “Ladies, there’s an activity list on the coffee table. We’ll be pulling away from shore at 8:00 p.m. sharp and pulling back at 8:00 a.m. sharp. Your personal emergency needs cannot be met unless you are in need of medical help. Other rules can be found next to the list. Please adhere to them for your safety and full enjoyment. Trust me, Sunrise is an experience none of you will ever forget. Your VIP status grants you all access at no additional charge, but please keep your wristbands on. The party starts now. Enjoy.” She waited momentarily for questions and concerns by us being first-time passengers and then exited immediately afterward.

  “Oh, it’s turnup time, bitches. Light that bizzle, Roxy.” Jazz danced around before doing a big belly flop onto the bed. “It’s my birthday, and we’re set up right. Thank you, Sable. You’ve made my day so special, honey.”

  Jazz was truly grateful for her friend ’cause under normal circumstances, taking this party boat right might not have happened. Besides all that, she didn’t want her girl to be sweating bullets worrying over Mike Mike.

  Roxy’s face frowned up at the continued praise of her once-best friend. She was tired of everyone acting like little Miss Sable’s shit didn’t stink like hers. First, Mike Mike, and now, Jazz. Roxy was feeling left out and like the dispensable friend. Lighting the blunt, not fearing repercussions, the girls sat back to absorb all of what Sunrise had to offer. Tyrell hadn’t exaggerated. As a matter-of-fact, he’d done the amenities no justice.

  We were allowed only one carry-on bag since the Captain’s Party was the last event of the night, and a change of clothes was a must. Besides the custom-made romper and Louboutin heels folded and placed neatly in the bag, the cash I’d swooped from Mike Mike was nestled in the zipped side compartment. I’d been tearing a hole into his profits, living the life and spoiling my girls. Taking my outfit out, shaking it for any possible wrinkles, I slid it onto an empty hanger and into the tiny closet. Then I saw the safe inconspicuously built into the wall, and my eyes lit up, knowing my small pot of gold would be secure now. Stuffing it inside and slamming it shut, I set the code to unlock it to the same one Mike Mike and I shared. Having it already embedded into my head, even under the drunkest circumstances, I would remember it. Not once did Mike Mike catching up to me cross my mind.

  * * *

  “To my homegirl, Jazz . . . I could get all mushy like I love you, and we ride or die till the end, but fuck all that. Drink this shot and turn up . . . It’s your birthday, bitch,” Roxy shouted as we all cheered and toasted. The Kush smoke had her at ease. If only she could keep the stick from up her ass.

  “Well, we ain’t here to relax and bond. Let’s hit the pool.” Jazz slipped her clothes off, revealing a banging golden-toned body. She wore a tiny turquoise bikini that glistened with stones and barely covered her petite frame. With a firm thumper-shaped bottom and a big grip handful of breasts, as her friend, I could admit she was sexy. We followed suit and got undressed, not wanting to slow the party down. Roxy and I were thicker and considered brown girls. It was no thang our duo was often called Oreo ’cause no one denied any of our beauty. She wore a black one-piece with slits, and I let every piece of ass and titty meat hang out in my winter-white, high-cut, asymmetrical, one-piece.

  “Oh, that swimsuit is gonna have Carla’s eyes twisted and turned inside out. Her girl better not be on here,” Jazz joked as I modeled once again for Roxy snapping shots.

  “I’m not worried about Carla or her whack-ass girlfriend. Come on, let’s hit this party.” Grabbing our drinks, we stepped out the door directly onto the deck of the pool.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Carla

  “Clap for a nigga with his rapping ass. Blow a stack for your niggas with your trapping ass. I don’t pop molly, I rock Tom Ford,” Jay-Z’s Holy Grail album was being remixed, and the whole boat was rocking their heads to his lyrical flows. By nature, we also joined in, quickly getting caught up in the upbeat vibe.

  People were partying and talking in groups around the main pool. Others swam, sunbathed, or drank. Not wanting to stay glued to our room, we set out to mix and mingle and have a good time. We were living the life, and I loved the feeling. No longer worrying about Mike Mike or if Jazz was going to come through on the hookup, I tossed all my apprehension out the window and partied like a rock star. Drinks aboard the ship were free, for VIP anyway. We weren’t concerned or paying attention to the crowd missing wristbands. From the looks of surveying the venue, there wasn’t a body in attendance that wasn’t enjoying themselves, even ole Roxy.

  Even though there were bad bodies everywhere, my crew and I turned heads. There’s something about Detroit girls that stood out amongst any crowd, and why we, as a city, always felt it was us versus everybody. We chilled sipping on our drinks as we took in the scene. We were lucky enough to get three lounge chairs in a row where we lay back to take in the drunken scene of naked bodies. Rap videos were playing on the theater-sized screen over the pool. We continued to lap dance on each other and those that stopped by to show us love.

  “So, are you still gay or what?” Carla’s soft hands were on my waist from behind. I smiled, caught by Jazz, who spit out some of her drink.

  “Hey, I was wondering where you were.” Before I knew it, the words had eased out of my mouth. Jazz and Roxy’s eyes widened, not believing my slip of the tongue either.

  “Well, I’m here now.” Carla was looking good, just like earlier, in a simple pair of pink trunks, white wife beater, and pink Nike flip-flops. For a girl, she dressed like a cute boy, a total opposite from Mike Mike’s all-man, sagging pants and Aviator boots rocking style. I couldn’t knock it, though, ’cause she had me wide open. Blushing as her grip around my waist got firmer, she continued to embrace me, and I didn’t want her to stop. “So, what did you want with me?”

  “First things first, where’s your little girlfriend? I’m not trying to get thrown over the railings and into the water ’cause she’s on that tip.” I pulled away from her, looking around for the tall, light-skinned chick. For some reason, the bitch popped into mind bringing me back up on my square. If she came for round two, I planned on knocking her head off.

  “Be cool.” Carla choked on her drink, backing away to scope the scene too. She didn’t think I’d noticed the worry wrinkles on her face from the mention of ole girl, but no such luck. “She was invited, but with the ass kicking you put on her earlier, I’m sure she doesn’t want to be in the company of you three anyway.”

  “Well, she’s probably somewhere chasing some of your other groupies off. We heard about your hot, fiya ass,” Roxy butted in once again but bringing up a good point.

  “Aw, babe, I’m sure you did. But word of mouth never gives someone real justice. Let ya girl find out about me on her own. How about that?”

  “And what’s there to find out? I mean, for real, though, I really don’t get down with girls, and that shit I said earlier was just a joke.” Carla stared at me erotically, taking in every inch of curve I’d been blessed with. Feeling her eyes undress me from the swimsuit, my knees slightly buckled from the intensity of her sizing me up.

  “Oh, well, in that case, let me not waste not another minute of my time—or yours. I’m out, shorty. Do you. Happy Birthday, Jazz.” With that, she turned and walked in the other direction. She didn’t give me time to take back my words or even take a cop. Feeling like I’d put my foot in my mouth, Carla left me standing, looking salty, stupid, and at a total loss for words.

  “Guess you better be real next time, babe.” Jazz smacked me on the ass. “Come on, let’s get in the pool.” She danced around, seeing a few people getting a game of water volleyball started. Watching Carla move on socializing with chicks on the boat had me slightly irritated and pissed off. To prevent myself from looking like a fool, going over to address my standoffish
performance, I took Jazz up on her offer and followed into the already jam-packed pool.

  “I’m gonna have to pass on that. My hair didn’t cost a car note, so it won’t handle the water.” Roxy looked deflated as she plopped back down onto the sun chair.

  “Damn, that’s fucked up,” I shook my head. “You should’ve done better knowing we were coming to Miami . . . duh.” Yeah, I could’ve cut my girl some slack and not knocked her for having a bottom-grade, nappy weave—but let that be a lesson to her for keeping me and mine outta her mouth.

  “Bitch, whatever. I got you, trust.” Her words were cold, but not enough for chill bumps to pop up. Roxanne didn’t scare me or intimidate me in the very least. As I watched her get up and storm off, it was clear I had pissed her off once again. Well, so be it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Roxy

  Mike Mike had my mind fucked up. I couldn’t shake how badly things had gone with us. I’d been working on having him eating out of the palms of my pussy walls forever and lacing my purse with money to blow. But instead, he threw serious shade my way and set Sable up to show me what I was truly missing. Instead of me enjoying the presents and upgrades like Jazz, my bitterness grew stronger. In the beginning, I had felt bad for fucking Mike Mike, being a home wrecker to my best friend. But since being on this trip with her uppity ass acting like her shit don’t stink—I was truly starting to hate her. If my hair wouldn’t have napped up instantly upon hitting the water earlier, I would’ve jumped in that pool and smacked her up. Real friends didn’t put friends on front street like that. Yeah, I was fucking her man, but behind her back . . . in private. Being disrespected in public was so embarrassing. As Sable and Jazz chopped it up with their newfound game-time friends, I crept back to the room for some alone time.

  Suspecting ole boy from the party bus was going to be on here too, I hadn’t seen him around the deck. If only I could catch a nut, my mood would ease up and relax. Having no other choice and needing to release the built-up stress, I grabbed my travel bullet from my purse and slid underneath the covers. Placing the vibrating gadget on my clit, waves of pleasure shot throughout my body. Starting to twist and turn, I pushed the volume up to the max, pushing the red plastic play toy inside of me. Spreading my legs into a perfect “V,” my juice box was leaking on the sheets. I was nearing an orgasm. But Sable’s phone started ringing and kept ringing, making it hard for me to concentrate on coming. I knew it was probably Mike Mike constantly stalking calling her. She’d been ignoring him, making it perfectly clear this trip and these gay bitches were far more important than him. Since my feelings with that nigga were straight raw right about now, the ecstasy I was experiencing flushed itself away, replaced by self-pity. Mike Mike had a way of making me feel less than worthy.