Pitbulls In a Skirt 4

by Mikal Malone

  I’m about to respond to Carissa, when I receive a text message. I remove my phone from my purse. The text is from Yvette.

  Yvette: ‘What about that thing I needed done?’

  Me: ‘It’s complete.’

  Yvette: ‘That’s Y I luv u.’

  Me: ‘Tell me somethin’ I don’t know.’

  When I’m done with her, I throw my phone back in my purse and address Carissa. “Carissa, you know you family, and that will never change. But if you want to be a part of us, I mean really a part of us, you have to take initiative. Yvette is always inviting herself over my house, and I do the same thing to her. But people get tired of inviting you places, only for you to cancel. If we ain’t going to a party, you not with it, and that’s not right. So the invitations stopped coming to you. Friendship is two sided, or in this instance, three sided. We grown women now. We don’t have our boyfriends to force us together to sit on the stoop in front of Unit C anymore. We bosses, and if you want to be loved, you have to give love in return.”

  She gets quiet but I tune her out anyway. Why? Because some fine ass dude walks up to me. He has to be about 6’4, and super attractive, with skin the color of a Werther’s Original caramel candy. He was wearing a navy blue designer suit, and I figured he was the owner of the store.

  “Hi, I understand you want to see some more dresses?” he asks me.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think you’ll look good modeling them for me,” I say to him, flirting a little. “I don’t think they’re your style.”

  “You right about that,” he says in his deep voice. “I wouldn’t do them justice, but I bet you’ll look sexy in them. Do you know which one you want to see?”

  “It doesn’t matter, you can bring me any one of them. My friend picked them out, and they have all been a mess anyway.”

  “Then go naked.”

  My mouth hangs open, until Carissa sticks her nasty finger into it, which rubs against my tongue. I close my mouth, and she snatches her finger out.

  “Ugh, why would you put your nasty finger into my mouth?” I wipe my lips.

  “Because you acting like you want him to stick his dick in there instead,” Carissa says.

  She’s playing me super hard now in front of this nigga, and I’m trying to maintain my cool. “Carissa, why don’t you go on over there, and see what beastly dresses Yvette picked out for you. I’m busy over here.”

  She rolls her eyes, but thank God she leaves.

  “What’s your name?” I ask him.

  “Lloyd,” he smiles.

  I swear my pussy is thumping like a drum right now. Ba-rum-pa-pum-pum.

  “Lloyd, what are you doing in here? You gonna get me fired,” the girl who was modeling the dresses says to him.

  “You don’t work here?” I ask frowning.

  I hold my purse closely to me, preparing to shoot to kill if this is a set up. I’m thinking between my legs instead of remembering I’m worth a lot of money. There are a lot of jealous niggas in the world who want me dead. Carissa is already back next to me gripping her purse too.

  “No I don’t work here,” he smiles again. “But I saw you over here and figured I don’t have nothing to lose. I decided to come over here and kick it with you.”

  “You playing yourself,” the model says to him. “You don’t have a job, you don’t have a car, and our mother still spoils you, plus you wearing daddy’s clothes. This woman is a boss, and she don’t have time for none of that shit.”

  "Excuse me, but are you speaking for me?" I ask her.

  She looks embarrassed. "No, I just didn't want my brother over here bothering you that’s all."

  "The only person that’s bothering me is you. So how ‘bout you get lost so I can kick it with your brother for a second, cool?”

  She rolls her eyes and walks away.

  "Wow, nobody has ever spoken to my sister like that before,” he says with a smile. "I like you already."

  "Lloyd, let's cut to the chase I got things to do today. I'm not looking for love, I've done that already and it didn't work. I'm about having a good time, and I'm about someone who makes it their job to put a smile on my face. You want the job?"

  "I don't see why not."

  "Well let’s exchange numbers and go from there," I say.

  I feel so liberated with my new attitude. I’m not interested in meeting another Cameron or Derrick. I just want to kick it with someone who looks as sexy as I do, with no strings attached.

  We exchanged numbers, he asked for a hug, which I thought was lame, and I said no.

  “You gonna be mine,” he tells me.

  “Slow down, Lloyd,” I say with my hand out. “One step at a time.”

  When he leaves the store, I text Toi.

  Me: ‘Meet me at Bells & Diamonds.’

  Toi: ‘I’m on my way. I’m kind of hungry though.’

  Me: ‘Me too.’

  Although Yvette almost messed my friendship up with Toi, she was right about one thing, Toi was a real bitch and was able to move past me pulling a gun on her. Her only request was that I keep her separated from Yvette, and I was cool with that. Besides, I'm sure Yvette and Carissa will have friends in the future that I won't like. I guess when Kenyetta died, so did the idea of the foursome-friendship circle I was accustomed too.

  Fifteen minutes later Toi walks through the door. She looks so pretty in her peach dress and yellow Manolo Blahnik sandals. We hug and she says, “Ready to hit the town? I'm trying to go down to the National Harbor."

  "Yes, but let me say bye to Carissa first." I walk over to Carissa and say, "I'm about to head out. I'll get up with you later okay?"

  She looks over my shoulder. "Why didn't Toi say hi?”

  "Not for nothing, but after the way Yvette treated her, I think it isn’t smart to mix the cliques.”

  “But what about Persia? I thought we were going to talk more about that."

  I sigh. “Carissa, Persia is your problem like C is mine. If you believe that the best thing for your relationship is to sever our friendship, that will hurt my feelings, a lot, but I’ll understand and won’t try to stop you."

  I’m lying. If she does that shit she is as good as dead to me.

  “Mercedes, I’m asking you to stay with me tonight,” she says. “Don’t go. I need you.”

  “You can’t be serious, Carissa. Me and Toi were about to get something to eat.”

  She rolls her eyes. “So you choosing her over me? Somebody you’ve known most of your life?” I don’t respond. “Mercedes, please hang out with me tonight.”

  “What is this really about?” I ask. “Are you testing me?”

  She frowns. “You know what, it don’t even matter, Mercedes. One day you gonna want me to remember you, and I’m going to think about this shit.” As she walks away I hear her say. “Persia was right, she is selfish.”

  Now I’m mad. I knew she was testing me, because of that bitch she gave birth to. I’m more determined than ever to get Monie right to steal C’s heart. Now I’m making it extra personal.

  CHAPTER 13

  KAREN

  Karen is in the basement in the main building of the BWK headquarters. She’s staring at a sea of her people. They are sitting in metal black chairs, and watching her as she stands next to the podium. Karen is wearing a black dress suit, with extra-thick shoulder pads, and her stare is intense. To Karen’s right is her son Oscar, and to her left are Roman and Lance.

  Many members in the audience try their best to maintain their calmness. It’s difficult, because they have no idea of what could have happened to cause this emergency meeting.

  “Before Black Water was murdered some years back we were strong,” Karen begins speaking to the Klan. “When he died we were all worried, and concerned that we wouldn’t be able to provide for ourselves. Later, Tamir came up with an idea that put us back on top. We submerged ourselves into the drug industry, and we were able to support our family. We bought these buildings, we prospered and we were able
to protect our beliefs. When Tamir died we were back at square one, but there was one thing they couldn’t take from us this time, our strength and our resolve. No matter what happened we had our anonymity, and the faithfulness we pledged to the Klan.”

  Karen eyeballed one of the younger teenagers, who were promised to Lance for next year. Hives popped up on her brown cheeks when Karen looked at her, and she scratched into her skin.

  “Do you know what anonymity means, Denise?” Karen questions the beautiful teenager.

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  “What does it mean?” Karen persists.

  “It means to have no individuality outside of the Klan. It means that we are not ourselves individuals, but we are one.”

  “Correct,” Karen agrees. She observes another young girl. Her light skin is riddled with pimples. “What about you, Stephanie? Do you know what faithfulness means?”

  “Yes, my Lord,” the girl responds trembling.

  “Explain.”

  She clears her throat. “It means to be loyal, consistent and never wavering. It’s the Black Water Klan or death.”

  “Correct,” Karen nods. “And since it seems true, that all are aware of what we stand for, can someone please tell me why there is a plague of deceit amongst us?”

  “I don’t know what you mean, my Lord,” Denise responds, since Karen is looking at her again. “I have never been deceitful in any way.”

  “Well maybe Gia can explain this to me,” Karen frowns after spotting her in the crowd. “Gia, come up here and face your family.”

  Gia’s stands up from her seat. She’s a beautiful girl with skin the color of wet sand. Her nine-month pregnant belly leads the way toward the front. Her teeth rattle. The tension in the room had now risen higher than a 450-degree oven. Gia stood next to Karen. She’s trembling.

  “Gia, did you or did you not take Tamir as your husband, before he died?” Karen asks.

  “I did, my Lord.”

  “And do you bear his child in your womb?”

  “I do, my Lord.”

  “Then tell me why are you harboring a disease that has the power to snuff out our entire family?”

  Gia cried uncontrollably. “I don’t know, my Lord. I have been faithful to Tamir since the day he took me as his wife. I never even looked at the other men here, even when they optioned me after Tamir was murdered. I cooked for him. I cleaned for him, and I never disrespected him.”

  “Then how could this be?”

  Gia swallowed. “I don’t know, my Lord. Maybe he gave me HIV.”

  The entire room gasped until Karen raised her tiny hand to silence them all.

  “Are you telling me that Tamir infected you with this disease?” Karen frowned.

  “Yes, my Lord,” Gia persisted. “Prior to Tamir I had never been with another man. I was a virgin. The only person my mother use to allow over my house was Tamir.”

  “Lies,” someone yelled.

  “This bitch needs to be dealt with now,” demanded another. “She could have infected all of the men.”

  Karen raised her hand again. “Silence.” When the room was quiet she said, “I need to see a show of hands of everyone who has been with Tamir.”

  Although many hands went into the air, including Gia’s, Karen chose to hide the fact that she herself had been with him. It was a night to remember.

  Tamir had chosen Karen, Gia, Energy and finally his own mother, for an orgy some days before he was murdered. But, the only one who was alive to know that Karen had also slept with Tamir was Gia, since everyone else had been killed. Karen was certain that Gia wouldn’t say a thing, and she was right.

  When Karen saw the most beautiful women in the Klan raise their hands she sighed. She also looked upon Persia, who surprisingly enough, hadn’t raised her hand. Karen was somewhat relieved because at least Oscar’s future wife should be clean, in the event Tamir was infected.

  “You can put your hands down,” Karen said. “Roman, go get the guest of honor.”

  Roman walked to a closed door off of the basement, and brought out a white man. The white man walked toward the front. “Stand next to me,” Karen ordered him. The man did. “This is doctor Houghton,” Karen told the members. “And he’s going to examine everyone in here today. Whoever hosts the HIV disease will be identified, and I do mean everybody.”

  CHAPTER 14

  YVETTE

  I’m pulling up on my block after meeting with Judah. He’s so excited about the wedding, but I’m just not feeling it anymore. The fucked up part is I don’t have a choice. If I don’t marry Judah, I could possibly ruin our business relationship too. He supplies Emerald and Camelot, so he has me. I must marry a man I don’t love or like.

  When I park my Range in front of my house, I’m immediately worried. My dogs are usually at the gate, in my front yard, waiting on my arrival. The only time they weren’t was a year ago. I had left them out longer than I should have, and they had gotten out and scared the shit out of Ms. Lucy, and her two-year-old grandson, while they were walking to the park on day. My dogs are loving, but nobody cares when the breed of dogs you’ve chosen starts with Pit.

  When I ease out of my car, and walk to the back of the house, I see my door hanging wide open. I slowly take my gun out of my purse, and toss my purse on the ground. Whoever is in my house is about to die.

  I carefully step onto the first wooden stair, and it creaks. I aim into the house and yell, “Whoever is inside of my crib, I’m giving you five seconds to get the fuck up out my house, before I light this bitch up.”

  Silence.

  “Do you hear me?”

  “Come inside, Yvette. I’ve been waiting on you.”

  The gun hangs lower in my hand, when I hear her voice. I amble inside, and into the kitchen. Chris is sitting at the kitchen table. Two wine glasses sit in front of her; one filled with Merlot and the other is empty. Her light skin is red, and she looks like she may have been crying.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, walking inside slowly. “And how did you get in here?”

  She looks up at me. Her eyes are bloodshot red. “I’d think you’d be happy to see me. Since you went through so much trouble to get me here.”

  “How did you get in my house?” I repeat.

  “I took the key from the inside of Dobby’s collar. You really should find another place to hide your spare key. If I got it off of him somebody else could have too.”

  “Naw, that’s the best place. How many people could take anything off of Dobby’s collar that he doesn’t know?”

  “None,” she says.

  I look toward the living room. It’s really quiet. “Where are my dogs now?”

  “In your room.”

  “Dobby…Rico,” I yell. They bark loudly in response to my voice.

  “Your dogs are okay, Yvette. You know that.”

  Relieved, I stuff my .45 into the back of my jeans. “Well, what’s up?”

  I lean my back against the refrigerator, and stare at her. Although she looks angry, I forget how good it feels to have her here. To have her home. Before it was over between us, we were happy. Well, I was happy. I made breakfast for her most mornings, and she prepared dinner at night. And then things changed. She wanted more of my time, which I couldn’t provide. I fought so hard for Emerald City, that I put nothing before it, even her. What a mistake.

  She pours me a glass of wine, and slides it in my direction across the table. “Drink with me,” she says.

  I stand up, walk toward her and reach for the glass. But her hand slaps across my wrist like a handcuff. The glass tumbles out of my hand, and crashes against the floor. Wine splashes everywhere, including my pants. She looks like she wants to kill me. I reach for my gun, but she’s quicker than me and snatches it out of my jeans.

  She cocks it, aims at me and says, “Sit down, Yvette.”

  “Chris, you’re making me mad.”

  “Fuck your feelings,” she screams. “Now sit down.”

 
“What are you gonna, do shoot me?”

  She fires into the floor next to where I stand. The smell of the gunpowder causes my adrenaline to course through my body. My dogs bark wildly in the background. I pull out a chair, take a seat, and wait nervously for my fate.

  “My dogs aren’t gonna stop barking,” I tell her. “Let me go calm them down, before somebody calls the police.”

  “Be quiet, Dobby and Rico,” she shouts. “Now!”

  They quiet immediately. I hate my dogs so much right now. I forget that she knows them, and they respect her. That’s the only way she was able to take the key from around Dobby’s neck, without getting bitten.

  “What’s going on, Chris?”

  I try not to look into the barrel of my own gun, but I can’t help it. I pulled that weapon on hundreds of people in my lifetime, and now I finally understand how it feels to have it pulled on me. I gotta say, it’s not a good feeling.

  “Are you happy?” Chris asks. She walks up to me and runs the barrel of the gun alongside my temple. The barrel burns and I squint. “Did you accomplish what you set out too?”

  “I don’t know what you’re—,” My statement is cut when she fires another bullet into the wall. It misses my ear by inches.

  “I’ve been drinking all day, Yvette,” she says to me. “No water, straight alcohol, all day long. And on top of that, I’m having one of the worst days of my life. I can’t even remember having a day more fucked up than this. So please don’t belittle me by playing mind games. I can’t be held responsible for what I might do to you. Now I asked you a question and I want an answer.”

  “No,” I say.

  She walks toward the stove and leans against it. “No what?” My gun is still aimed at me.

  “No I’m not happy.” My head drops and I clutch my hands in front of me on the table. “I haven’t been happy for quite some time now, Chris. Is that what you want to hear?”