by Renta
“These dice ain’t worth yo’ life, homie, but I’ve killed for less. So, it really don’t matter, it’s yo’ call, folk.” The look in Clack’s eyes told a tale all in itself, but the thirst for his blood swam in Dino’s eyes like a vampire.
We all knew Clack wasn’t no tuna—it was not in his blood, but homie wasn’t dumb enough to try to have a drawdown with a hunnid doc holidays, at least I hope not anyway.
“What’s poppin’, folk, we gonna play with these cubes or play with these tools?” Dino questioned as if he was asking about a game of ball rather, than asking a nigga to decide his fate.
The fire in Clack’s eyes burned down to embers as he gave a slight nod indicating he was gonna keep his life.
“That’s what’s up, fam but I’m not stupid, my boy. I just upped this burna on you. I know you, wit’ it, Clack so before shit gets ugly—hand yo’ tool to Lil Jackie.” Clack’s face balled back up automatically, but before he relit that fire, pussy extinguished it, again.
“Clack, baby boy, you’re way too young and handsome to be on this kid shit with this young boy. He may not know better but you do,” she said, then stepped to the lame with her hand out for the pistol.
Dino looked kinda salty about her downplaying him, but I gave him a look that said ‘chill’. Even though, I’m one of the youngest niggaz in my hood. I came up hard and fast with my wolves. Just like any other hood in the wilderness, it’s shark-eat-shark—dawg-eat-dawg! I’m up on the seductions and trickery of these hoes out here. I learned from the best—a dope fiend! The skepticism on Clack’s face spoke volumes, but some whispered words in his ear, from those juicy ass lips rocked his wienie ass to bed as Armani reached under his shirt and removed the bulge that was evident. But, not before she caressed his dick and turned to hand Lil Jackie the steel. Before she turned back around, she winked at Dino letting him know it wasn’t personal. The bitch knew how to assuage a man’s ego. The smile on my niggaz face told me, he had just gotten macked!
“Now can we get to this bread? I’m trying to see if I can tap you boys’ pockets before y’all kill each other,” she giggled.
I’d yet to say anything beyond my irritation of Clack’s constant use of that vulgar word— ‘nigga’. Dino dropped twenty on the ground and shook the cubes for his shot. Even though, I was his back I didn’t bet against my man’s so Lil’ Jackie faded the bet. He got popped out the gate!
“Big ups to my Fo’s and Tray’s—Folk nation in this bitch!” Dino boasted.
Dino was a Gangsta Disciple but he was from the cona. He’d left for a while, but when he came back they blessed him with Folk bidness. Niggaz was fucked up but them boys wasn’t tryin’ to see Dino get on his dumb shit! Dino was on a roll but true to form, lady, lucks slutty ass switched on fam, and he crapped out with two hunnid on the wood. Him and Lil Jackie family, so he ain’t sweat it, but no nigga that’s a true man wants to lose. Dino was fucked up. By now the dice game was in full swing.
“T, what’s up?” someone yelled.
I tried to recognize the voice over all the noise. I eyed the crowd and spotted ‘em as they headed in my direction. It’s Ms. Maria, my niggaz Shy’s mom. I saw the wolves swallow her up before I could get to her. Niggaz surrounded her with all types of sizes of dope trying to outdo the next nigga. Not one nigga gave a fuck ‘bout her being the homies moms and who was I to cast a stone. I helped feed her habit as well. Maybe not, in the same manner, those niggaz did, but in the end, it was all the same.
“I got them two for tens that’ll make you sin!” I heard one of the niggaz sales pitch.
I smiled, ‘you gotta love a hustla’. I had to force my way into the throne of hungry niggaz. Some of them gritted on me, but it is what it is.
I spotted Ms. Maria. “Excuse me, that’s who I’m shopping with,” she pointed me out.
I could tell niggaz wasn’t feeling that, but she wasn’t the only smoka in the hood, so niggaz wasted no time getting back to bidness.
“Whew,” she exclaimed. “These knuckleheads don’t respect shit anymore.”
I stared at her in disappointment. I hated seeing my nigga mom out here bad like that. Niggaz didn’t give a fuck about her being a homies T-lady. They’d let her degrade herself in some of the vilest ways with no regard for the love Satta and Shy gave the hood. Me, I gave Ms. Maria her fix to keep her off these crooked streets. I was trying to help her salvage the little bit of dignity she still had. I gave it to her without accepting her money. I’d want my hood to do the same for me even though, I know these same niggaz I rode, stole, and killed for served my Queen an ill hand.
Still, I didn’t blame ‘em. We were all hungry and just cause I respected the game didn’t mean the game deserved respect.
My face balled up immediately. “Damn, Maria, what I tell you about being out her like that? You know Shy wouldn’t be cool with you being out here bad like this!” I frowned at the skimpy sundress she was wearing.
Even though she was up in age and a smoker, the woman still had that sex appeal. “I know, T, but I’ve been calling you all morning and yo’ shit keeps going to voicemail,” she whined.
I took the bidness phone off my hip and frowned at the black screen. I tried to power it on but no deal! I could only imagine how much money I’d missed since the battery died.
“And stop trying to use my son’s name to make me feel bad. Shy is dead and he’s not coming back! Now are you gonna help me out or do I need to go elsewhere?” she said, making me want to knock her lipstick crooked.
She knew I wouldn’t chump her off to one of these savages, but she was dead ass about turning to one if I couldn’t feed that monkey on her back. Without another word, I walked towards the trap. I knew she followed me even before I looked back. I wondered if Shy’s fucked up with me for serving his Queen?
***
~Jazzy~
It had been a month to the date since Satta’s been laid up in that cold hospital room. It took Ms. Lovey days to finally get me to leave his side. When he woke up I wanted to be the first face he saw, but the truth was my faith was all fucked up. I had never been the type to question Allah but then again, I had never known anyone that was in a coma. I did my research and found out that the doctors were correct, it was a 60/40 chance that Satta would awaken outta the state he was in and even if he did, there were numerous misfortunes that could wake with him, loss of memory, paralysis, mental illness and more. The fucked-up part was that the sixty percent of him not waking up is stronger than the forty that he would.
Even though, the doctor said it was all up to him. I knew that they couldn’t give us any promises because they didn’t rely on faith, as we had. They only placed their stamp on medicine and their ability to operate! My heart called out for Assata. My body craved him—my body craved period! Lately, my mental capacity had been lost in a world of questions and what ifs. ‘What if Assata didn’t wake up? What if I moved on thinking he’s not gonna wake up and he does? Would he fault me? Was that betrayal— so on and so on.’
As I was thinking those things and preparing for a much-needed hot bath, my doorbell rang. Fuck! Why did it seem that every time I was about to wash my ass somebody showed up? In frustration I headed for the door, wearing but my t-shirt and panties. I wondered who it could be. No one outside of my girls and a few family members knew where I rested at. Quickly sliding on a pair of shorts, I headed for the door.
As soon as I got to the living room, Marcella’s cheesing face was the first thing I saw fogging up the glass. I couldn’t help but laugh at her goofy ass, yet the bitch’s timing was nerve wrecking. I unlocked the door, ready to give her a piece of my mind, but the surprise was on me. As she stood there with that silly ass grin on her face, a six-foot fantasy come true stepped from the side of the door.
“Shotta!” I shouted in surprise.
My mouth hung to the floor as I tried to find the words to speak rationally. Shotta was my ex-dude. I met him when I was at UCLA, he’s a street nigga with intellige
nce. We started kickin’ it—well we fucked a few times and somehow became inseparable while I stayed on the west coast. Once I got the news of Shy’s murder, I packed and left like a thief in the night, and even though a woman was supposed to be dignified at all times. I had to step down a notch and deliver the news to him over the phone. Now—here he stood! All six foot- two inches of him. His skin the color of malt liquor, and those long pretty lashes over his bedroom eyes. The only flaw about his nature was the chest length dreads he kept done in a cute pattern. It was not that they didn’t fit his swag, it was just that I was not into the dread head thing. Never have been!
“Sup, babes, you had to know I’d show up. I can tell that you’re glad to see me,” His cocky ass said with a slight smile that revealed the adorable dimples I used to lust over.
“And how might you come to that conclusion? That I’m glad to see you, I mean?” I arched my eyebrow in anticipating his answer.
He laughed, “How else can I tell, J? I always told you your body couldn’t lie to me.” His eyes then trailed down to my chest—and it hit me—how my nipples use to get hard from his presence.
I blushed as I crossed my arms over my chest. I turned my gaze to Mar, there was no need to ask how they got in touch. When she used to visit me out west Shotta introduced her to his cousin and as far as I know, they never stopped communicating.
“Mar, what you on, I mean—you know the deal. So, why would you be so messy—so disrespectful?” She opened her mouth to explain, but I put my hand up stopping her. “Bitch save it, there’s no excuse!” I rolled my eyes at her before turning my gaze on Shotta. “Shotta, I told you we needed to cool off. I mean—this poppin’ up to my house without an invitation ain’t cool. You know I got feelings for you, but I also have someone I’m seeing, and we already had a misunderstanding with this same type of fuckery. Mar knows that!” I frowned at her.
The smile slipped from his face an anger took its place. “Yeah, she told me about your little friend, but I’m here to get what’s mine. Look, Jazmina, I’ve let you play house with homeboy long enough. Now I’m coming for what’s mine. He’s placed your life—"
“Shotta,” I interrupted him. “What you not understanding? I’m not yours—really, I’ve never been.” I felt a headache lurking behind my eyes—pinching the bridge of my nose. I exhale a deep breath. “Shotta, you shouldn’t have come here. Yea—Mar may have told you about him, but what she couldn’t have told you was that he’d kill you for coming for what’s his!”
***
~Tomorrow~
After I made sure Ms. Maria was straight, I found myself back at the dice game just in time for the dice to land on Snake-Eyes crappin’ some skinny pocked face out. I squeezed back in next to Dino, I saw my boy working clean. The stack of bills in front of him told the tale.
“Finally,” Armani exclaimed. “You niggaz acting like y’all ain’t wanna give a bitch a play at the dice.”
I watched, as she took the dice and dropped her short sexy ass down into a crouch, with her legs spread eagle. That fucked me up. It caught the whole squad off guard. All I saw was raw hairless pussy lips pouting out at a nigga. Them bitches was so fat it was like somebody hit a pause button on the hood and the only movement was the lil’ bad ass kids running wild, and the sound of music blasting from niggaz systems.
“Damn, you niggaz, gonna keep staring at this pussy or try to get at this bankroll, I got right here?” She flashed a knot that was as big as a small pocketbook.
If she wasn’t the big homies, Tricky’s relative I’d relieve her of all that shit, like right now. The nigga Clack snapped back to reality first.
“Bitch, you doing that shit on purpose. A sucka would fall for that weak ass shit, but not the Clackalac!” This lame ass nigga thought he’d said some playa shit.
Armani didn’t respond, as she dropped fifty her first roll, and just as I thought, the clown Clack matched her. She shook the dice real good, so niggaz could hear them clacking together and released them as if she was born to do that shit. I watched as one landed on the tray and the other spun before it settled on a pretty four.
“Hit dice!” She did a lil’ dance before she picked up her Lucci. “I’m feeling lucky today boys. I’m getting the house on my next roll,” she said, as she dropped five crisp hunnids on the wood and all eyes landed on her.
Niggaz underestimated females when they played a man’s game, but what most niggaz didn’t take the time to realize, was that some women were schooled by game niggaz, so their game was just as tight as ours.
“A’ight—I see that’s a lil’ too steep for you po’ hustling niggaz—” she reached down and picked up two of the bills then caught the eyes of each of us as a challenge.
“Man, I got that bet, ma,” a nigga from the block named Ja’Ray called.
“Naw, nigga, I got my back,” T-Money interjected, as he dropped three crisp ones on top of the three already down, but Armani wasn’t impressed.
“Hold up, daddy,” she said to T-Money. “You can’t speak on my money.” She turned her attention to Ja’Ray. “I want that fade too.” She dropped three more hunnids in a separate stack.
In my mind, I’m thinking ‘come on, fam.’ How the fuck a nigga not gonna sense something fishy jumpin’, when a bitch bettin’ threes on her first roll? That was how boys always ended up being food. They take their eyes off common sense and allow bravado to lead them into the lion’s mouth. Ja’Ray smiled at T-Money mischievously like, ‘nigga you ain’t runnin’ shit.’ That shit musta gotten under homey’s skin cause his dumb ass spoke up quick.
“We may as well shoot the other two bills, sweetheart. I mean—since you’re so sure about your issue and all.”
I laughed at fam. I grew up with the nigga, but he was as green as grass. Armani dropped the two on the six already down and lame brain followed suit. He dropped a band of three hundred on the first roll. Bitch didn’t even have a point yet. As she shook the dice, our eyes met in a clash of acknowledgment. Every bet she made, I side betted with the clowns that was just as stupid as Ja’Ray and T-Money.
These was my dawgs but shid, as I said earlier it’s dawg-eat-dawg when it came to getting that bag. If Armani was an outsider, I would have gladly rocked her to sleep but since she was one of S-E-D’s finest. I’ma eat off her plate. She let the dice roll and as them bitches tumbled, I watched the niggaz watching the dice as they rolled to a stop.
“Naturals,” Armani screamed, as she raked up her loot. She then snatched up the dice as T-Money reached for them. “You niggaz are as good as this pussy!” she mocked as she rattled her femininity.
All eyes zeroed in on her lower lips, all except mine. I watched admirably as she replaced the crooks, trick dice, with the actual ones.
“Bitch let me see them dice,” T-Money fumed. She merely dropped them at his feet and as he inspected them, she frowned. “What, you tryin’ to accuse me of cheating?” she screamed. She threw a hundred at him and another one to Ja’Ray. “There, I’m buying my way out the game. You niggaz sore losers,” she said, as she stood and strutted away.
T-Money was still inspecting the dice for flaws.
***
Goose sat inside his white-on-white Benz truck observing the scene from afar. The day had been profitable and the best part about it was he didn’t have to kill nobody. He watched the dice game and laughed at the clowns getting taken fast for their chips. Whoever, lil’ mama was had a game ‘bout her only a game nigga could detect. He watched as she played the crowd with seduction and he saluted the awareness of the shorty that peeped her but kept his lips sealed.
“What you thinkin’ ‘bout, bruh?” Pain asked.
Turning his gaze to his younger brother, Goose couldn’t shake the feeling that had been nagging him since he got the call about his lil’ nigga being gunned down.
“Somethin’ ain’t right with this whole shit, bruh. There are too many loose ends that lead nowhere, and Ms. Lady lil’ bruh rockin’ wit’ tellin’ me s
ome spooky shit ‘bout some nigga wit’ aids trying to whack him. We need to get to the bottom of this shit fast. I got shit to tend to back in the Tone, but I ain’t leaving till whoever tried to take Assata out is eliminated—them and their entire bloodline!”
Pain simply nodded his head as he twisted up a Kush stick. There was no need to verbalize his intentions cause his tool barked for him, but there was one thing that ate at his mind and he needed to run it by fam.
“Goose—what you think about the girl, Jazzy? You think she had anything to do with it?”
Goose turned his attention back to the activity in the hood. “For her sake, let’s pray she don’t,” he whispered.
Pain leaned his seat back to get comfortable. “Or it’s night-night for lil’ baby,” he seconded.
***
~Ice-Berg~
My eyes popped open to a light so bright, it seemed like my head just cracked open. My head was pounding, it felt as if I was about to throw up. Nausea spun through me like a hurricane in the middle of the Pacific causing me to snap my eyes back shut.
“Arruugh,” I yelled, as I grabbed both sides of my dome.
As soon as my hands made contact I knew something was wrong—terribly wrong. I started feeling around my cranium, I was confused by the thick padding wrapped around my shit.
“Chu, mas take it easy, Papi. Chu no position to move so—so fos,” she said, from somewhere beside me.
Instant recognition serenaded me causing me to pause and crack my eyes open into slits trying to brave the powerful light. Belle sat next to me, looking poised and exuding sex as if things never got crackin’ in my room. I was at a loss about how many days—hours—or minutes has passed, from the looks of shit, I had missed quite a lot. The bed I was in must have been a freaky mu’fucka cause it was massaging my back and the mattress molded to fit my form. The room I was in, was aglow with the sunlight pouring through an open window, that allowed fresh air to flow through the room causing the drapes to dance lazily in the breeze. A vase of fresh wildflowers was next to my bed, but that didn’t explain why the fuck, I was here or what the fuck was going on.