She Gave Her All to the Hood's Finest 5

by Shvonne Latrice

  “The Pink Cherry. Text me when you about to come so I can wait outside in the lot for you.”

  I never let Camarih pull up on her own, because niggas were thirsty as fuck. Just the thought of them eying my bitch made me grit my teeth. So before she even stepped her pretty ass out of the car, I wanted to be right there with my shit on my waist, letting muthafuckas know it wasn’t a wise decision to salivate.

  “I know, I know.” She half smiled, pecking me once more before sitting down at her big ass make-up station.

  I couldn’t wait until she moved that shit into one of the guest bedrooms. At the moment, it was being renovated to input all the shit she wanted, but it’d be done in the next fucking couple weeks, thankfully.

  Like normal, I always started my day with hitting the studio to check on everything. Today I was going especially because Brooklen had just finished a new track, and I wanted to hear the shit. I didn’t like the hoe, but then again, a nigga ain’t really like nobody. However, I couldn’t deny her ass had talent. Her first song that we dropped went right to the fucking top and stayed there for weeks. Shit was still there in the top, but at number eight.

  Because of that, she was booking shows nonstop, and we’d filmed her music video quickly as hell. This was a first because, usually, new artists ain’t pop like that, so you wasn’t about to waste money on a muthafuckin video for the song. But shit, Brooklen came with that fucking heat, and I wasn’t mad about the shit.

  “What’s good?” Rahim stood up when I entered the studio room to dap me up.

  I had another studio in the building where my office was, but shit recorded in there didn’t feel the same. I felt like all hits needed to be recorded here in the fucking hood.

  “Sup.” I sat down after slapping hands with both Rahim and Abel.

  “Sorry. I was in the bathroom.” Brooklen walked in, lighting up at the sight of me.

  I ain’t say shit, just nodded for Abel to play the song of hers they’d just finished up. He started it, and while it was playing, a few of the homies rolled through to chill. I wasn’t tripping because niggas were usually respectful, especially when my ass was in this muthafucka. So if I needed them to shut the fuck up, they would.

  By the end of the song, it was a full house, including a couple artists like the Gangstar Girlz, Nala, Holli, as always, Carter, and even Dirko and his long titty bitch.

  “That shit was dope as fuck,” I said excitedly, already seeing dollar signs as I looked at Brooklen.

  “Really? I’m glad you like it. I have another song ready whenever you want me back to record.”

  “Shit, as soon as possible. I just have to look at everybody’s schedule. But you and Rahim make a good ass team.” I looked to Rahim.

  “Same shit I said.” He replied with a smile before slapping my hand.

  “Then let me edit it up, make it sound all shiny and shit.” Abel started working on his computer.

  “I think for yo’ shit, it needs to be straight through hits, no fillers.” I looked up at Brooklen since she was standing over me.

  “I agree. I got all day if she wanna get back in tonight,” Rahim offered as Abel put on some music for everybody in the studio to listen and chill to. Niggas were already rolling up and pulling out red cups.

  “Yes, I do!” Brooklen nodded excitedly. I just took her ass in for a moment, liking her work ethic. She was about to be rich as fuck and have me even wealthier than I was.

  “Hey.” Nala walked over, standing right next to Brooklen since she was near me.

  “What’s up?” Rahim and Brooklen replied together, but I declined to speak back. I just looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

  “So, Rahim, I finished my song, and I’m ready to record it.” Nala stared at him.

  “Aight, well I’m thinking either tomorrow or the day after that. I will hit you to confirm though.” Rahim moved around on his phone, checking his schedule.

  “Why not right now?”

  “Well, tonight, Brooklen is gon’ do another track.” Rahim nodded.

  “Oh, I think you can push that back. I’m priority. She’s still a nobody.” Nala gave a fake ass smile to Brooklen.

  “Nah, it don’t work like that. She already got the spot, and he’ll hit you like he said when he knows what day he can fuck with you.” I interjected.

  “I just think—”

  “And I don’t give a fuck what you think, nor did I ask. Go sit yo’ extra ass down ’cause you about to piss me the fuck off,” I stated strictly, pimp hand itching to backhand her ass across this mixer.

  Nala just looked down at me like she was two seconds from crying, and then made an about face to go sit down.

  For the next couple hours, we all kicked it, then Brooklen got back in the booth to lay another track down. That shit was heat too, which had everybody in the studio hype. Nala was the only one acting like she was unfazed, with her hating ass.

  Anytime a bitch on the team had a good song or I showed them any type of attention, her ass didn’t like them.

  “Oh, we got a visitor.” Abel paused the unedited track while we listened back.

  I turned in my chair to see who it was and spotted Brooklen’s bitch ass boyfriend.

  “Turn that shit back on, Abel. Fuck wrong with you? Don’t ever pause some shit unless I tell yo’ muthafuckin ass to,” I let him know, annoyed as fuck that he stopped some shit for that moist ass nigga in the doorway.

  “Aye, can I talk to you, Wacko?” Brooklen’s boyfriend asked.

  “Wait until I’m done listening, nigga. And don’t sit down; stay where you at unless you want a problem,” I spoke, only looking at him through my peripheral. The song was done a couple minutes later, so after lighting my blunt and taking a toke, I asked, “What?”

  “Yesterday night, Brooklen was here until midnight. And now she was back in here bright and early, and still here even though it’s six p.m.” I just looked at him, still smoking, so he added, “What I’m trying to say is, she needs to come home with me right now; spend some time.”

  “Fuck is you, a housewife?” I asked seriously. What kind of nigga was this, coming to his bitch’s job crying like a hoe over quality time?

  “Look, I’m trying to be cordial about it, so don’t piss me off,” he had the gall to say.

  He must’ve forgotten who the fuck he was talking to. I guess when I clocked his ass, it did more damage than I thought. I was noticing when he had a crowd, he was bold, but when it was on the low, his true bitchmade personality came out.

  When I started laughing, everybody in the studio followed suit. Brooklen was seated, watching with her eyes wide.

  “Well first off, I don’t take threats from niggas that’s pigeon toed. And secondly, I wish the fuck you would pop some shit. I’m not the nigga you playground gangstas wanna fuck with.” I inhaled on the blunt again, chuckling a little bit, because him threatening me was hilarious.

  “Like I said—”

  I hopped up with the quickness, making a few people jump, even though I wasn’t coming for them.

  “And like I said, bitch, take yo’ ass on somewhere ’fore you start some shit you can’t finish. I would hate to embarrass the fuck out of you in front of yo’ bitch.”

  Backing up some, he said, “Come on, Brooke, we leaving.”

  When she hopped up, I said, “Sit yo’ ass down.” And like a good doggy, she sat her ass back down on that couch.

  “For real, Brooke? What the fuck?”

  “I told you long time ago that bitch do whatever the fuck I tell her to. And if I wanted to hit, I could’ve been did it. Yo’ hoe been throwing that pussy at me since I met her. Lucky for you, I’m married and not attracted to hoes that look like they bark while you fucking ’em.” I took one last inhale on the blunt while people chortled heavily, and blew the smoke right in his face. Since I was finished, I ashed it right on the dirty ass collar of his shirt. “Toss this for me, cuz.” I held it out.

  He stared at me, looking like he
wanted to say something, but he knew better. Opening his hand, he allowed me to drop the blunt into it like the bitch nigga that he was. I tapped his face hard as fuck, then told him to get his ass on, which he did.

  Just as I was about sit down, Camarih told me she was done with work for the day and on her way to The Pink Cherry.

  “You out?” Rahim asked.

  “Yeah, y’all finish the song. I’ll be back tomorrow to hear the shit.” I left out, reading an email from Alejandra, my assistant.

  Soon as I got outside, I felt a presence behind me, and I turned to see it was Nala.

  “You fucked her, huh?” she asked, mouth all twisted like she was about to steal off on my ass. I actually wanted her to so I could fuck her ass up.

  “Why?” I felt my face contort out of irritation.

  “It’s a simple yes or no question. I already know you did, because of how attached she is and how she listens to everything you say over her man.”

  I almost brushed her off but decided to toy with the hoe.

  “She look like a freak, so I probably would’ve fucked her. But I got my wife, who I love, so I’m not really interested in these other hoes.”

  I knew me saying that shit would hurt worse than me hemming her ass up by her neck like a nigga so badly wanted to.

  “I know you have!” she shouted, looking stupid as fuck, as I stepped off the sidewalk to get in my car.

  “Aye, I know who I haven’t been fucking though.” I smiled at her, and her face said it all. “That pussy was too clingy for my liking. Take yo’ ass on somewhere ’cause in a minute, I’m gon’ hit yo’ nigga up and tell him come get his hoe off my dick.”

  She yelled something, but by that time, I was in my whip with the music up, speeding off. I wasn’t about to have my girl waiting because of Nala’s thirsty ass.

  I got to The Pink Cherry half an hour later, and thankfully, I didn’t see Camarih’s car yet. Had she been there already, waiting for me, I would’ve slapped Nala the fuck up next time I saw her.

  I parked on the side where the entrance to the waffle house section was, and saw it was pretty packed, even though the club wasn’t open. After inspecting everything, including the bathrooms to be sure they were pristine, I washed my hands then went to sit at my designated table to wait for my girl.

  As I read the menu, knowing damn well I was gon’ fuck with the same shit, I felt somebody sit across from me.

  “Hey, I never see you here this early.” That hoe Klaude smiled.

  “Nah, get yo’ ass up, and wipe the fucking seat off. I don’t want my girl sitting on whatever the fuck is crawling around in yo’ draws.” With her jaw damn near on the table, Klaude just stared. “Bitch, I said get the fuck up.” Before I even got those words all the way out, her ass was up and going to get a rag. “Make sure the shit is new!”

  Moments later, she came back with a fresh rag to wipe the booth seat down.

  “I’m—”

  “Shut up.” I cut her off.

  Without another word, she finished cleaning and drying the booth, just as Camarih texted me. I hopped up to go outside to get her and my son, who we left in his carrier.

  “Hi.” Camarih beamed as I took the carrier from her, kissing her soft ass lips. I could smell her scented body butter, and that shit alone had my dick swollen.

  “Give me this. You too fine to be holding this heavy ass shit.”

  Chuckling, she replied, “Stop trying to butter me up for sex.”

  I said nothing as I watched her walk in front of me, wearing these black pants that looked like tights, one of them tops that tied behind her neck, and them sandal shoes with a heel, showing her pretty ass feet. Her golden hair blew lightly in the fucking wind, and when I realized my ass was mesmerized, following her like a fucking puppy, I whipped my head around to be sure no other niggas were doing the same.

  I held the door open for her and then led her to the table.

  “Wait. Let me check it out before you sit down. That hoe Klaude and that nigga Ced sat here before you.” I pointed Klaude and that tooth out as she walked by.

  “Houston!” Camarih clenched her teeth. “She heard you. And who is Ced?”

  “So. Fuck I care if she heard? And Ced is that one big ass tooth she got in the front. I know you seen that nigga, Camarih.” I nodded to Camarih as she laughed, to let her know it was okay to sit, then I sat across from her, placing Baby Cuz’s carrier in beforehand. “You feel okay?”

  “Yes. I don’t have much morning sickness anymore.”

  “Nah, I meant yo’ pussy.”

  “What?”

  “I just told you that dirty hoe sat there. I’m trying to make sure nothing don’ snuck up in you.”

  “Houston!” Camarih laughed. “No, I am fine!” She bucked her eyes like always when she wanted me to be quiet.

  “You got my son in there. I don’t want him having to fight off that hoe’s pussy roaches ’cause you playing.”

  “The fact that you’re serious.”

  “Fuck it. Sit on this side.” I waved for her to do what I said.

  Breathing heavily, Camarih got up and sat next to me with her menu. When she turned to face me, I grinned, making her do the same before I kissed her sexy lips.

  A week and a half later…

  “Okay, you ready to spend the day with daddy?” Camarih held my son on her hip.

  “Yeah, he ready. Come on, cuz.” I took him, pecking his fat cheek.

  “Alright. Remember, no vulgar language in front of him, Houston. He can talk.”

  “This nigga don’ said one muthafuckin word and now you acting like he a damn orator.” I shook my head.

  “He is smart, Houston, and—”

  “You just do yo’ shit, shop, enjoy yaself with them hoes—”

  “Friends, Houston. Don’t call my friends hoes, especially not in front of him.” She put her purse on her shoulder.

  “Whatever. Deuces.” I pecked her, taking my son with me.

  “Bye! No smoking either!”

  Once outside, I buckled Baby Cuz into his carseat, making sure it was exactly right, then hopped in. We had a cool conversation on the way to the studio, and he let me know how his mama be tripping, which I agreed with.

  As I pulled up to the curb of the studio, parking in the same spot I always did, I saw two dirty ass hood rats outside.

  Rolling down the passenger window, I hollered, “Y’all bitches get the fuck from in front of my shit ’fore I shoot y’all ashy asses!”

  “Fuck you!” one of them said as they walked off, stepping down in front of my car to cross the street. “Ah!” They jumped then ran when I hit the gas to run that hoe over.

  “Stupid ass bitches,” I mumbled, throwing my shit in park.

  “Bitches,” someone that sounded like Baby Cuz repeated. I almost got a fucking crook in my neck from turning to look in the back seat at him so abruptly.

  “Nah, cuz, don’t say that.”

  “Bitches.” He said the shit again, and I couldn’t help but to laugh. When he saw that shit, he laughed too.

  Hopping out the whip, I opened the backdoor on his side and squatted down.

  “Aye, cuz, don’t say that shit no more, aight? I mean, if it’s just me and you, we straight but yo’ mama gon’ have a fit if she hear that, feel me?”

  When he just looked at me with a smirk but didn’t say it again, I made his hand into a fist then dapped him up.

  I prayed like hell this was a one-time thing.

  27

  Camarih

  “Okay, baby.” I laid my son down in his plush stroller that was really like a damn bed.

  I’d fed him, and now he’d finally dozed off. I kissed his little cheeks, then covered him up just as someone knocked on my office door.

  “Oh, sorry,” Kai whispered softly, closing the door behind herself. “I just came to let you know that I’m about to go order lunch for everyone. Did you still want the same thing?”

  “I do. Thank you.”


  Kai stared at the stroller, smiling for a second, then asked, “What made you decide to start bringing that cutie to work? He’s been here every day with us now.”

  “Well, my sister-in-law usually babysits him for me, but he was acting too bad around her. He misses his father and I when we leave, so he turns into a little tyrant.”

  “I couldn’t imagine; he looks so sweet.” Kai gushed. “Your sister-in-law is Jilly, right?” she asked as I walked toward the door to leave my office.

  “Yep. Houston only has one sister.”

  Looking like she was thinking about something, she simply replied, “Oh, okay. Well, see you in a little bit.”

  I paid her no mind as she left out to go get lunch for all of us. Walking to the sink, I turned on the water, and while I checked the temperature, Dana walked over to me.

  “Hey, boss. Your next appointment is here.” She smiled.

  “Okay, thank you. The room is prepared, right?”

  “Sure is!”

  “Alright. I will hit the light when I’m ready for them.” I rinsed the soap from my hands.

  As I dried them, I went to my spa room to make sure it was in fact clean like Dana said. I then prepped the bed, and once I had my facial gloves on, I used my elbow to press the button that would let Dana know to send in the next person.

  “This shit is dope,” a deep voice called out as the door opened. I saw it was Mac, and my heart dropped.

  “You need to go. This is my place of business and—”

  “I know; I’m here for my facial.”

  Standing from my seat, I said, “You do not want a damn facial, Mac. You need to get out.”

  “I booked an appointment, paid my deposit, and now I want what I paid for.” He sat on the bed, removed his shirt, and then laid back.

  I stormed out, listening to him laugh, and went to the front desk where Dana was typing away on the computer.

  “Hey, Dana. What’s the name of my next client?”

  “Mackenzie King.” She read it aloud after clicking around on the mouse.