One Hustler's World

by Nikita Stewart

  “Look, Terri, if__.”

  “Please don’t stop calling me Baby Girl. I know you hate me, but at least let me believe I can still be somebody’s Baby Girl."

  KT paced the floor. Unsure if he should break her jaw or concede, he replied. "Look, Baby Girl, if I had plans to pine box you, we'll be on some back road somewhere. So, don't try my patience." He took a seat at the table. "You knew Pierre went after my fiancée?"

  “I found out earlier today... I'm sorry, really I am."

  “There’s a lot of shit you sorry for. Just don’t come at me with that regret bullshit. We only regret shit after we got caught or fucked up.”

  "KT, I'm confused... by right, you should have killed me. I deserved what you did to me. What I don't deserve is you still treating me nice. How come you can still be nice to me?"

  “Don't think I don't think about snapping yo neck. I don't because I still need yo sheisty ass. Now__."

  “You want my Uncle P?"

  "Where is he?"

  Tears racing down her face, Terri broke into an uncontrollable shiver. "He makes me do so many terrible things."

  “Baby Girl, now I'm confused," KT admitted. "You terrified of dude, yet you risk yo life staying loyal. Say you would've killed me. That means you were willing to do a life sentence. It’s like you willing to do anything to prove your worth. Nothing about you makes any sense... Like you being here now. Who are you trying to prove your self-worth to, me or that muthafucka?"

  Terri’s glaring inferno scorching his flesh, she spat. "Everything not so fucking A or B!"

  “Where was all this rage when I was dish-ragging yo larceny hearted ass? Better yet, when you thought your fucking uncle was tearing that asshole up!"

  “KT, the hell with you!” She charged him

  KT grabbed her inches before it slammed into his face. Preventing her sobbing retreat, he tossed her on the dresser. Easily overpowering her resistance, he held her until she stopped crying. He wiped away her tears then plucked her chin. “The angry, pissed off Baby Girl, that's who I need right now. Stop submitting to his bullshit. Fight... better yet, let me fight for you.”

  “Stop talking like you give a damn! I'm still the same jump-off, thot bitch that set you up and almost shot you!”

  “Baby Girl, you did some things I'll never forgive you for. Trust out the window. You ready to kill and be killed for an uncle fucking you in every sense of the word. That's incest. He gunning for my fiancée, but look. I'm right here with you. After all that, I'm still trying to force the good inside you to come out. That should say it all.”

  Terri wept. “You think you know me! You don’t know shit!”

  “Then tell me.”

  ∗

  From birth, Terri Thompson called her Scott Street, Ingleside Apartment tenement home. As far back as she could remember, her elder sibling, Tiana, shared a bed with their uncle Pierre, who fed their parents crack addictions.

  For her 8th birthday, little Terri was given the gift of child rape. She wept, describing the agony of her uncle devouring her under-developed femininity. When suddenly, Tiana pried Uncle P off of her, out of her. Little Terri bawling her eyes out, never heard her uncle give Tiana orders. Her sibling sampled some of the strange fluids running down her inner thighs. Tiana disrobed then preceded to rape Little Terri as well.

  At nine years old, little Terri was summed to the principal's office. Uncle Pierre & Tiana were there. Her parents being found deceased from a drug overdose. Uncle Pierre took over the parenting duties.

  Several years later, Uncle Pierre packed up the siblings and relocated to Ocean City, Maryland. As if her uncle were reliving some horrible incident every time he climbed into little Terri's bed, she paid the price.

  Next came her uncle’s instructions to seduce men & women alike. Time and again, Terri sacrificed safety & self-respect to achieve the mission objective. Yet the more she succeeded, the more Uncle Pierre was dissatisfied, thus the angrier he became. Anger exacted upon Terri physically as well as psychologically. Soon Tiana would take all frustrations out on Terri as well...

  ∗

  KT disbelieving his ears, watched a bawling, emotionally distraught Terri repeatedly slam her forehead into the far corner wall—her safe place. Taking her into his arms, he allowed her tears to soak his tank-top. Unsure of how long, he gave the traumatized woman all he could.

  Terri, prying herself from KT’s embrace, took a seat at the table. As if some trance were suddenly snapped, she wiped her tears. Fiddling with his empty handgun, she asked. "You bring some Kush?"

  "No time for blowing trees." KT affirmed.

  She removed her heels then unbuttoned her blouse. Unfastening her jeans...

  KT prevented her from undressing. "Now definitely not the time for that bullshit either."

  “I had boyfriends behind his back. Each one used me for quick pussy... And I let each one do it. They passed me around to their friends. Trains, Gs, orgies. Two dicks inside me, the third in my mouth. Three dikes, stud bitches with strap-ons big as my forearm. You name it. I let it happen. No matter when, where, or with how many people... he said fuck, I fucked." A surprisingly serene Terri confessed. "All my life, all I ever heard was Terri Thompson a straight jump off. The biggest hoe in the hood. All true. Jumping from dick to dick, pussy to pussy... when all I ever wanted was for somebody to just care about me. Anybody. Just once, I wanted somebody to care about what I wanted. What I might like."

  KT took a seat at the table beside her. "Baby Girl, yours might be the worst I've ever heard, but we all got dealt bad hands. It’s fucked up, but the world doesn't give a damn about us. All we got is those cards and the people who can relate to what we’re going through. No matter what, we lose if we fold and give up. Play it out. Maybe we hit the jackpot. One thing for certain, our hands can’t get much worse. So, the only place we can go is up. You gotta believe that. Otherwise, we’re good as dead.”

  “That’s your words or HERS?”

  “Little bit of both. But I believe it. It's why I haven’t blown yo fucking cap back by now.” KT confessed.

  “Ever since Uncle P stole my virginity, I have been getting fucked. That's what I respond to. Fast, slow, easy, hard... I respond to it. It makes sense to me. With you... we did almost everything, but none of it felt like fucking. I wish I could describe it."

  Befuddled, KT asked. “What in the hell did I do that was so special?"

  Terri, leaning across the table, suckled his mouth. "You made sure it was what I wanted. You and Maxine didn’t take anything. You give a choice." She pulled him to his feet. Placing his hands on her buttocks, she pulled him into an impassioned ki...

  KT eased her back. Reloading his 9mm Ruger P89, he engaged the hammer-slide, chambering a round. "Tell me where I can find Pierre."

  War is not merely justifiable but imperative upon honorable men

  -Theodore Roosevelt 1906

  CHAPTER 28

  You become responsible for what you have tamed.

  You are responsible for your rose.

  -Antoine de Saint-Exupery 1900-1944

  Scott Street

  Ingleside Apartments, Norfolk

  1:30 am following early morning

  KT enmesh in the early morning darkness, stepped away from his Oldsmobile Ciera. Standing along Scott Street, he watched a dark sweater, jeans, and Nike Air Max sneakers adorn Yolanda step from her Chevy Camaro. "Calling me out this late, it gotta be important.”

  No response was given; Yolanda tossed him a flashlight.

  Into the deafly silent night, they slipped behind a nondescript apartment building through a grass clearing. Approaching a vegetation overrun barb wire fence, they ducked through a hidden breach only known to the original Ingleside Apartments tenants. Emerging on the opposite side, they entered what’s nicknamed 'Africa.' The label was given to a wooded area that extends for several miles.

  KT walked three hundred feet, then stopped. “You need to tell me why we taking this safari hi
ke. Cause this shit don’t feel right.”

  Yolanda, eyeing him sternly, took a deep breath. “There’s no other way to know for sure.”

  “Yo ass mean to tell me, you got me walking into....”

  Yolanda’s glare silenced any further discussion on the matter. Like it or not, their heads were going into the starving lion’s mouth.

  Their flashlight beams illumining only several footsteps ahead. In complete silence, they vanished down a wooded, easily missed trail. They trekked into the dense wilderness.

  Every cricket in the distance, every rodent scurrying about, every broken blade of grass awash KT with dread. Perspiring, he continually wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Slowly, quietly, he released the safety on his Ruger P-89 semi-automatic.

  Seventeen minutes later, they followed a small ravine to its conclusion.

  A flashlight beam flickered in the distance. Stepping from the shadows, an ailing Ski-Beau eyed them both earnestly. "Hope ya brung my peace offering.”

  Yolanda gave him a cluttered Wal-Mart shopping bag. "Fifty thousand, like we agreed. The smallest bills I could find."

  Ski-Beau, pleased by the bag’s contents, sat it aside. He aimed his flashlight beam into a pit then replied. "IGC's peace offering to you."

  KT and Yolanda peering into the pit, found a bloodied, badly beaten man.

  Yolanda asked. "Is that Tech?"

  "The one, the only," Ski-Beau confirmed. "It took some work, but he eventually said yawl role dawg flushing his Lincoln Navigator." He gave her a slip of paper. "The plate number. He also said yawl role dawg set up the sting__."

  Several twigs crackled in the distance. A burst of fully automatic hellfire ripped into the dark wilderness.

  KT drawing his handgun, shoved Yolanda aside. Both dove to the ground and fired into the darkness.

  Yolanda turned around. On her back, she aimed just as Ski-Beau opened fire. Rounds kicked up dirt beside her. A tremendous force slammed into her midsection. Her handgun roaring, she a three-round burst into the gang leader. Ski-Beau toppling into the pit. Their ‘captive’s handgun went off simultaneously, with Ski-Beau falling against him. Tumbling over, the pistol fell from his grasp.

  KT, on his hands & knees, scurried from a barrage of gunfire. He spied movement in the distance. Thunder roaring, he unloaded his weapon’s magazine clip into the darkness. An agonizing grunt pierced the sudden gun battle. Heavy breathing accompanied the sound of retreating footsteps.

  KT quickly exchanged his magazine clip then aimed down into the pit. “Don’t you fucking breathe! Now, kick it away from yo ass.”

  The man kicked his handgun aside.

  Yolanda, winded and agony struck, staggered to her feet. She took off her sweater, revealing a flattened lead ball embedded in her Kevlar vest. “That bitch shot me!”

  KT’s gun trained on the ‘captive,’ he noticed Ski-Beau. Though immobile, the gang leader was inches away from a 357 Magnum revolver. “Only reason I’on clap yo wig, cause we still need you. Scream or make any sudden noise, ya die right here... Now empty out the ratchet and toss it up here."

  Ski-Beau, favoring his bullet eradicated shoulder, tossed his empty revolver out of the pit and asked. “Dis not on me. They were all ove__” He gawked horrifyingly at the steel-faced woman.

  Yolanda’s handgun roared gloriously. The eardrum bursting explosion was quickly swallowed by the dark, dense wilderness.

  KT watching the gang leader's forehead detonate snapped. "Why the fuck you do that! We still needed him!"

  “We got what we need.”

  “His ass Pierre nephew! If anybody could confirm what Terri told me, it’s him...WAS HIM!"

  Yolanda lowered her handgun. “Somebody was dead the moment the first shot was fired. He made it either him or us.”

  “Yo ass knew they would be laying on us, and you still came. Damn the fact, you could have at least told me what you knew might happen. What does that say about us? We keeping secrets now?”

  “I wasn’t sure if you would still come if you knew what might’ve happened.”

  KT sulked. “Damn, you just admitted to putting my life in jeopardy. Honey, getting bodied, got yo ass tripping. You not alone, never was, never will be. But you need to start trusting again.”

  “Trust who, you?”

  “Have I ever gave you a reason to doubt my loyalty?”

  Yolanda looked away. “I, it was... sometimes I see.... “

  “You don’t know what you were thinking, cause yo ass WON’T thinking. You were acting out of revenge. Pine boxing Ski-Beau was gone happen, even if they weren’t laying on us. We didn’t need to say it cause we both understood.” KT laid forth. “We could’ve met him inside McDonald's and took care of business. The fact he had us meet him out here says he needed the privacy and cover of darkness. I'm not stupid, I knew this shit won’t right, but I still came. Cause no way you was going alone. Even though he tried this ambush bullshit, we still needed him. Now all I got is that sheisty ass bitch. Did you at least think about IGC? Cause they’re going to be out for blood."

  Yolanda tossed Ski-Beau's walking cane into the pit. "Let the locs and Detective Swanson sort out what happened here." She aimed her flashlight beam into the pit and asked their lone survivor. "So, you’re the super gangsta Tech?"

  The man stuttered. "I'ne have shit to do with nothing."

  “So, how you end up here?”

  “Ski-Beau promised ten stacks if I took a few punches and laid in here like this. That’s it, I swear... that’s it.”

  KT interjected. “You gotta be the dumbest muthafucka alive. Or maybe you had something to do with what led you here?”

  “I swear, all I was doing was chasing the bread. None of dis shit on me! I’on knows none of yall. Please, just lemme explain.”

  Yolanda caressed her handgun trigger. "We already know you took part in the jack move. What we don't know is... why."

  Blood spewing from the disfigured corpse sprawled alongside him, Tech stared out of the pit. The murderous woman held dominion over his existence. He confessed to taking part in a home invasion not too far from here.

  Several weeks ago, he & the slain Herman Philips were approached by a family member seeking to rob some female hustler. He was assured the take would be at least $200,000. He was promised no one would be harmed. Tech had no idea this family member would start shooting.

  Yolanda asked him. "What made him decide to do the robbery?"

  Tech spoke about a secret sit-down his family member had with the just deceased Ski-Beau. There was some sort of deal offered. All his family members had to do was lay low long enough for someone else to meet their demise. Ski-Beau, as a show of good faith, spoke about his Bounty Hunter Blood gang-affiliated uncle. This uncle wanted vengeance against some female. Tech swore he couldn’t remember the names of all the players. But he was sure of the timeline of events—a plan into motion.

  Yolanda shone her flashlight beam into Tech's face. "What do Ski-Beau and this uncle of his have to do with you bastards gunning for me?"

  "They wanted everything to go down around the same time. The whys and why not, I don’t know. I swear that's the truth. I was promised cash. That was all I was there for."

  KT asked him. "If the plan was paper from jump-street, why he body the girl? And what made him wanna do the sting anyway? His paper deceit. Why throw it all away on a robbery?"

  Tech quivered. "He was yapping bout some chick that kept disrespecting him and his. He was tired of everybody looking at him like he was some flunky. He was going to show everybody it was his time to sit on the throne."

  “I'm hoping you smart enough to know we want a better answer than that."

  “He did say once we had the cash, he'd say... You should always honor those who do for you. I guess that pose to mean some-thang."

  Yolanda slammed her flashlight. A tear racing down her cheek, she chimed in. "Was that him laying on us in the bushes?”

  “I guess. Ski-Beau just wanted to do t
he deal.”

  “He told dude about this meeting?”

  Ski-Beau nodded. “Crazy bitch was gonna body everybody. I mean, that’s what I think.”

  “How can I find his ass?"

  Tech gave her the location. "If I'm not around, he'll know something’s up."

  KT chuckled. “Dumbass, he’ll know something’s up if yo ass shows up at his door.”

  Yolanda aimed her handgun into the pit. Her fingers trembling, she was awash with images of Honey's execution.

  KT grappling with the revelations, couldn't fathom what would drive his longtime friend to this point. He knew men were plotting KT’s demise and said nothing. He even took advantage of the opportunity by laying siege to their friend and business associate.

  A long burst of roaring thunder quickly dissipated in the dense wilderness. KT’s thoughts, interrupted by the sudden cease-fire, watched Yolanda exchange her empty magazine clip. He shone his flashlight beam into the pit. A bullet-riddled Tech lay eyes frozen open, awed in the oblivion. He gathered Ski-Beau’s cluttered Wal-Mart shopping bag. "How much is here, if anything at all?"

  “I kept my word to that bastard. Just in case he kept his."

  “You just forgot to mention he'll never be able to spend it."

  Yolanda shrugged. "It’s yours.”

  “I’m not for sale. At least not to you.”

  “I didn’t trust you would come back here with me if you knew everything.”

  KT just shook his head. “I guess the cash makes us even. You know, you never did tell how much you lost in the robbery. Throwing me this say, they didn’t even crack the surface.”

  Though they both had questions and concerns, they retreated into the darkness in silence.

  ∗

  Peterson Street

  Stony Point, Norfolk

  9:45 am later same morning

  KT, removing his Timberland boots, was ushered inside a strange 3 bed middle-class home. The first thing he noticed was how his feet sank into the deeply plush Burberry carpet. Marble coffee & end tables complemented a lavender Turkish leather living room set.

  West African art adorning cabin wood-finished walls, KT approved of the lavish decor. "Why is this the first time I see all this?"