She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest

by Shvonne Latrice

  “I found out he was doing some things that didn’t really fit in line with the activities a man in a relationship should be doing.” I gave her a little something. I wasn’t about to mention Isis and all the details.

  “Girl.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s why I stayed away from them music industry niggas; they’re nothing but trouble. I found me a good, wholesome, regular nigga.”

  “Yeah, I need to do the same ’cause…” I stopped myself.

  “’Cause what? You got a new boo?” She sipped her drink, giving me a look that made me laugh.

  “I have a friend. His name is Tony; we live around the corner from one another in South Central.”

  “Tony? Tony Wacko?”

  I didn’t think she’d know him, which was why I only gave his first name. And I was sure there were multiple Tonys over in that area.

  “Ye-ah. You know him?”

  “I mean, no, I don’t know him, but I know of him. He’s like starting up a record label or something like that. Local celebrity in LA.”

  I nodded, allowing the waiter to set our food and appetizers down. I was a little irritated because I didn’t see the point in bringing the appetizers at the same time as the damn food.

  “That’s Tony.” I didn’t like that Shanece had heard of him, and I didn’t know why. I guess I was still scarred from Isis and Prince.

  “I’m kind of surprised you went from Prince to Tony.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “I mean, Tony is fine as hell, but he’s just as crazy, and a little violent too. I just didn’t see that coming between you two. He’s extra hood, and you’re more of a sweet hood.”

  We chuckled in unison as we tasted the appetizer.

  “He’s definitely all of those things, but he and I are just friends.”

  “Tony doesn’t have friends. In fact, no man would have a friend that was as beautiful as you.”

  “Aww, thank you.”

  “Welcome. But now it makes sense why Prince and two of his homeboys got beat up last night.”

  “What? They did?”

  “Yes, girl! You didn’t see it on Instagram?”

  “No. I don’t really go on there much. I post, like a few pictures, and then hop off. I’m always too busy.”

  I was in disbelief until Shanece pulled her phone out and showed me a video. It wasn’t as clear as I’d like, but it showed one man, tall like Tony, knocking out what appeared to be Prince and then two other people before slipping out. So much for Prince’s tough guy persona.

  “He doesn’t seem like your friend.” Shanece winked, making me roll my eyes playfully.

  If she only knew Tony had me thinking the same thing. But let him tell it, he couldn’t be in a relationship. He just wanted to spend most nights with me, take me out, talk on the phone, fuck me, and give me money.

  “I know, but he is.”

  “I think his artist has a show tonight. I saw it somewhere. You wanna go?”

  “Hmm, yeah. That seems like fun.” I was wondering why Tony hadn’t told me or invited me, but I definitely wanted to see Eitan’s show. I’d heard his songs, which were pretty good, and he seemed to be cool when I met him.

  Shanece and I finished our meal, just talking some more, mainly about our career goals and her plans for a family. She was only a year older than me, but she’d gotten married at twenty-one. It was nice to see someone from my generation actually be in true love and not some union plagued with all types of infidelities, embarrassment, confusion, deceit, and betrayal. I loved listening to her talk about her relationship.

  Since we were both wearing heels and it was already 8 p.m., we decided we’d go straight to the venue. We looked cute enough, not too dressy and not too casual, so it was fine.

  The performance was in Hollywood, the same place we’d had dinner, so it only took us about fifteen minutes to get there because of all the traffic. After parking in the expensive ass fifteen-dollar lot, Shanece and I headed inside of the club.

  At the moment “Floating” by Schoolboy Q was playing as everyone kind of chilled out, drinking, smoking, and lax dancing. No one was on stage at the moment, but as soon as the song went off, a host came on, talking loudly as hell.

  “Hey, let’s sit here,” Shanece suggested. It was an empty booth area that had a nice view of the stage.

  I followed her, and as I sat down, I searched for Tony on the low. My eyes landed on Eitan, his other friend Rahim, and a few other guys I’d seen in the studio before. There were women flooding the area as well, but I still didn’t see Tony. Yes, I wanted to watch Eitan’s performance, but I was really here hoping to bump into Tony.

  “Evening, ladies. Can I get you a drink? The table is free, but you must buy drinks or food.” The waitress displayed a menu.

  Shanece and I ordered cocktails and a basket of fries, although we weren’t starving. We thought it’d be best to have a little snack, not knowing how long we’d be here.

  “I’m gonna go to the bathroom while he’s on stage. I don’t know his ass.” I pointed to some white guy up there rapping.

  Shanece giggled, before nodding to say okay.

  “Hurry back so I won’t drink your drink!” She yelled after me.

  I made my way to the back area, following the signs that directed me to the restroom. I finally found it, but it was locked, so I had to wait. As I leaned against the wall, I heard moaning, prompting me to roll my eyes. Whoever she was, she was getting the dick of her life.

  “Fucking great. And why does this club have one damn bathroom?” I huffed.

  A few minutes later, the moaning ceased, and I heard the sink water running for a bit before finally the locks switched. A dark-skinned girl came sauntering out, hair looking like she’d been in a fight. But after her came none other than Tony Wacko.

  “Camarih.” He spoke softly, looking like a deer in headlights. I no longer had to pee, and I surely wasn’t about to use that damn bathroom.

  “Baby, should I wait for you in the section?” the girl asked him as he put his hand against the wall I was up against to keep me in place, towering over me.

  “Nah, we done for the night. You ain’t fine enough to keep in contact.” Tony turned away from her immediately after he finished speaking.

  She stared at him, I guess shocked for a minute. But when he paid her no mind because he was too busy looking at me, she walked off, talking shit under her breath.

  I was frozen as he stood over me. I didn’t know what to say, but what I did know was that I couldn’t do this little arrangement anymore.

  “I’m gonna go.” I slipped past him, but he caught me, bringing me back to the wall.

  “You mad.” He smirked. “You look good as fuck in these little ass shorts.”

  WHAM!

  I slapped his ass when he tried to lean down and kiss me.

  “Are you fucking crazy? Don’t try to kiss me after fucking that bitch! I am done with you!” I attempted to storm off.

  “I didn’t kiss that bitch.” He yanked me back toward him again. This time, he hemmed me up against the back wall, which was in a darker area. “I brought her ass in there, bent her over, and that was it. Used my own condom and everything.”

  Why was he telling me this?

  “Houston, move.”

  “Make me.” He pressed his hard body against mine. He smelled so sexy, and even though I was disgusted with him, I couldn’t deny how fine he was. “That’s what the fuck I thought. And I told you, you ain’t my girl, so I can do what the fuck I want to, when I want to.”

  “Great. So that means I can fuck any nigga I want to.”

  “Yeah. Just don’t let me find out. If I get word back or if the pussy feels different, I’m choking yo’ ass to death while I’m in it.”

  “Shit does not work like that!” I hollered. I didn’t understand how I could be into someone so ignorant and brazen.

  “You don’t wanna fuck nobody but me anyway.” He gave me that sexy ass, cocky grin, before pulling
a blunt from his pocket to light it. Inhaling on it, he held it then let out smoke while adding, “Go ’head and fuck another nigga. Watch you be hitting my fucking line that night for me to do what he couldn’t.”

  I just glared up at his handsome face, his cologne traveling up my flared nostrils every time I breathed in. He was rocking a white t-shirt with an open black flannel over top, dark jeans held up by an Hermés belt, and white-on-black classic Puma sneakers. I didn’t know if I wanted to rip his outfit off for him to fuck me or see it soaked in blood from me stabbing his stupid ass.

  “Either we talk exclusively, or we don’t talk anymore.”

  Shaking his head as he let out smoke, he stressed, “Camarih—”

  “Pick one.”

  “I already told you what this shit is.”

  “That’s what the fuck I thought.” I used his words. “Good night.” I slipped around him and hurried off before he could grab me.

  I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach the moment I saw him come out of the bathroom with that gutter rat. I knew I could no longer play this little game he wanted to play.

  “Wait, we’re leaving?” Shanece asked when she saw me grab my purse.

  “Yes. I’m not feeling well.”

  “Wait, Camarih!” Shanece hopped in front of me to halt my walking. “Whatever it is, let’s stay and continue to have some drinks. The last thing you need is to be in the house sulking.”

  My eyes darted away from Shanece for a moment and went right to the VIP section I saw Tony’s people in earlier. Only now, he was entering, grinning like nothing had just happened between us. I watched him until he sat down next to Rahim, and some girl came to sit on the other side of him. She touched his knee, which he promptly brushed off, but she didn’t seem to be bothered by his demeanor because she stayed seated.

  “Okay. True.” I smiled at Shanece, and she returned the gesture.

  We stayed for the show, sipping on our cocktails and talking in between or when it was someone on stage we didn’t care to listen to. When the niggas were getting ridiculous with their efforts to snag our numbers, we decided to leave.

  “Is that Tony?” Shanece asked as we headed to the parking lot we’d parked in.

  I glanced his way, to see he and his friends were leaning on someone’s car, and of course, the ladies were surrounding.

  “You so fine, baby,” he had the nerve to say as I walked by him, prompting the girls to turn around and peep who had his attention.

  I ignored him and them as I continued to my car. I was over his ass.

  Joy Brixton

  I smiled to myself as I rode in the passenger seat of Tony’s car. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he forgave me and was back fucking with me. I was no longer pissed about that whore hitting me in the face, because all I cared about was getting back with my man.

  I met Tony about four years ago, when I was coming out of a Louisiana Chicken spot that he was pulling up to. His demeanor was so intriguing that I couldn’t help but to stare. The way he sped down Crenshaw and right into the parking lot, windows down, blunt between his sexy lips with his music blasting, was so gangsta to me.

  At the time, I was a good girl, having had only one boyfriend during my short stint in college who I barely fucked. As soon as Tony saw me, he gave me that cocky crooked grin, and it was over from that day on.

  I ended up getting something to eat with him around the corner, despite me just buying chicken, and that night, he was fucking me.

  Tony was always honest about his feelings toward relationships and how he and I would never officially be anything. He also let me know from jump that we would just be fucking, so if I had the nerve to nut up on him in public over another girl, we’d have an issue.

  I was so into him and wrapped up in his hood charm that I didn’t care what rules he’d laid down. Plus, I was sure that if I rode it out, he would mature one day and make me his official girl.

  Still to this day, we had setbacks with him always fucking other girls, being disrespectful, and treating me like some hoe. The worst part of this journey had been the three abortions I’d gotten. I would do whatever I needed to keep Tony, so if he wasn’t ready for a baby, I wasn’t about to force one on him. I knew most females in my position would’ve used that as a trap tactic, but I knew a baby would never keep a nigga like Tony.

  I wouldn’t lie and say getting the abortions didn’t hurt and bother me at times, but it was a small sacrifice for a greater goal.

  “It’s so nice out today.” I touched his leg, and he nodded, giving me a quick look as he pulled into the large parking lot of the Slauson swap meet.

  “Great day in LA,” he replied in his thick Los Angeles hood nigga accent. It seemed nobody else had accents in LA except for the hood niggas. They just pronounced things differently.

  Once he parked, we got out of the car and headed toward one of the many entrances. Per usual, Tony chatted and slapped hands with a few of the niggas outside, who were standing near their cars or walking out of the establishment. They acknowledged me as well because everyone knew me as Tony’s girl; everyone.

  We entered the swap meet, and Tony stopped right at the counter with all of the beautiful gold jewelry.

  “Those two bracelets and that small chain, pull ’em out.” He instructed the chubby Latin girl.

  “Sure.” She retrieved the jewelry and let Tony inspect them, so I did as well but more so wondering what this was for. The jewelry was delicate and surely not something he would wear.

  “How much all this shit cost?” he inquired.

  The girl took the jewelry pieces and weighed each of them, before coming back to the counter and saying, “All together, it would be eight hundred and eight dollars.”

  “Bag it up.” He nodded, reaching into his jean’s pocket for some money.

  “Is this for Jilly?” I quizzed, not knowing who else Tony would be blowing money on. He wasn’t exactly the tricking type, unless it was his baby sister. And even then, he kept it modest.

  As the girl steamed the jewelry and packaged it up, Tony counted his cash out then looked down to me.

  “You got eight dollars? I ain’t trying to break a hundred-dollar bill for that shit. I got you when we get back to my crib.”

  Still confused, I dug into my purse and handed him two five-dollar bills. He paid the lady then gave me back the two dollars in change. I left the situation alone as we tread back to the car, but once we were on the road, I had to ask again.

  “Tony, you got all that for Jilly?”

  “Nah. Camarih.” He spoke nonchalantly as if he wasn’t fucking me too. He acted like I was his homegirl that he could speak freely to about his dating life.

  “Camarih? The girl who hit me? The girl who has a man?”

  “I’m the only form of a man she got.” Again, his words were dry as he pulled up to a flower shop.

  “Nigga, you just had me help you pay for jewelry for another bitch!” I yelled, feeling anger rise up in my body like lava in a volcano. And this nigga had never bought me anything.

  “Shut the fuck up with all that damn yelling! You ain’t help me with shit. I told yo’ stupid ass I was gon’ give it back when I got to the crib. Always talking about you wanna make a nigga happy but can’t do one little thing for my bitch.”

  The fact that he was serious made me want to punch his head. But I knew if I did, Tony would punch my shit right back.

  Before I could say anything else, he was out of the car and heading inside. It took about ten minutes before he returned, and I said nothing, just stared out of the window with my arms folded.

  We got to his house about ten minutes later, and he made me wait outside while he got my money then let me come in so I wouldn’t know where his stash was.

  After I got my cash, we went to his bedroom.

  As he shut the door, I asked, “Tony, who is she to you? You’re buying her jewelry? You’ve never bought me shit like that.”

  “That’s none of
yo’ business. You talking too much.” He started lifting my dress up.

  In no time, we were undressed, and when I got down to suck his dick, he stopped me and slid a condom on first. I let it go, taking him into my mouth and sucking the life out of his dick so he’d maybe see what he was jeopardizing.

  Yanking me off, he bent me over so that half of my body was on the bed and the other was hanging off, then slid inside of me. As soon as he began pounding my walls with all that length and girth, I knew exactly why I forgave him all the time and put up with his shit. Nothing mattered when he was slamming my pussy; it felt too good.

  Tony was just everything, and if I could be his main girl, I would be the talk of Los Angeles.

  “Ahh, Tony!” I cried out as I released on him. He continued hammering me hard, and the feeling was so euphoric that I was about to scratch a hole in his comforter.

  “Damn, bitch.” He groaned, hitting me harder and yanking yet another orgasm from my body.

  I was literally leaking down my inner thighs, as Tony fucked me while gripping the back of my neck. Moments later, he was releasing but on my ass.

  As I waited for him to return to the room and clean me, I wondered why he’d used a condom. My mind immediately went to Camarih, the jewelry he’d just bought her, and then him assaulting Prince.

  As soon as I felt the warm towel grace my ass cheek, I asked, “Really, Tony, tell me. Since when do you make me suck your dick with a condom? When do you use them with me?”

  “Since right now. Get dressed; I got shit to do.”

  “Like what? Giving her the gifts?”

  “Last time I’m gon’ tell you to stay out my business, Joy.”

  “So it’s either me or her.” I folded my arms after pulling my dress over my head. He was currently preparing for a shower.

  Turning to look over at me, Tony laughed his ass off and said, “Bitch, if you don’t take yo’ ass home ’fore I pull my heat out on you.”

  Tears trickled down my cheeks as he moved past me to take his things to the bathroom. I followed him so I could pee and wash my hands, then once I dried them, I just stared at him brushing his teeth.