Hood Misfits, Volume 1

by Brick

  Dame sat in silence, his neck tense with nerves, his vessels bulking out. The moment his fingers clenched the surface of his desk, I swiftly moved out the way as it went flying.

  “Get your Glocks ready!” he roared out loud. “Like you said, it’s time for a shakeup.” He kicked the desk and smashed a glass door with his chair.

  Ray-Ray

  Seven days I’d been in that place. The welt on my face was going down.

  I was locked in Gina’s room. She took care of me. I didn’t know what I would have done without that girl. Yeah, she was dense as fuck, but she had proved to be smarter than me. She was surviving, and I was barely living after Dame damn-near beat me to death. Once she had nursed me back to consciousness, she had been with me nonstop. She brought me food and even picked up the two teeth Dame had knocked out and saved them for me. I laughed at it. I didn’t know why she’d done that, but I thanked her anyway.

  I stood and looked at my body in her full-length mirror. There I was, sixteen with no parents. I was thankful my skin was dark; otherwise the bruises and cuts would have looked much worse. I had some cuts under my breasts from where I had put the razors, and my full, thick chocolate thighs had lumps of welts all over them, front and back.

  First time Gina had gotten me into the shower and turned the water on, I screamed like hell. Shit burned me. Then she put some shit she called turpentine on me along with alcohol and peroxide. I think she got a kick out of having a real life doll. She even trimmed my pussy then waxed it too. Removed all the hair from my whole body. It probably would have hurt if I hadn’t been out of my mind during it.

  She had said a few of the niggas I’d cut was hoping Dame let them have another go at me.

  My eyes watered and glazed over as I stared at myself. I missed my mama and my daddy so much. I cried a lot at night. I was always scared I was going to have to fight again. I was tired of fighting.

  You hear me, Mama? I’m tired of fighting right now.

  I just wanted my old life back. I wanted my old friends. I wanted to go to school again. I wanted to read my books and pretend I could be a writer one day. I wanted to dress in my fresh gear and roam the mall with my bestie, Dominique.

  Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks as Gina walked in.

  “Hey, Ray-Ray. Good, you up. Daddy talking to that nigga Trigga about cleaning house. They took some niggas from the house to the middle of street and capped ’em. You better hope he let you stay here. He selling bitches to that big Magilla Gorilla, Rick Ross-looking mu’fuckin’ pimp. You think Daddy bad? You ain’t seen shit. You’d be dead by now, fuckin’ with that silver-back, ape-looking nigga.”

  I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t have anything left to say, really.

  “You hear me, Ray-Ray? Say something.”

  “I hear ya.”

  “You need to let me give you something to take the pain away again. You like the way that pill I gave you made you feel, right?”

  I nodded.

  After she’d got me awake, I was in so much pain, she gave me this off-white pill she called a molly. I took it. I would have taken anything to get rid of the pain.

  “Don’t hate me later for it, okay? But you my girl, and I gotta take care of you ’cuz none of these bitches took care me. I got fucked up a lot.” Just as she pulled her braids back into a ponytail, a knock came at the door.

  I got scared and started to cry. I was easily frightened now. I started backing away from the door. I didn’t have any more fight left in me. I was sore, weak, and plain exhausted, so if they were coming for me, I was fucked in more ways than one.

  “Who?” Gina leaned an ear against the door.

  Whoever it was didn’t respond. They just knocked another three times in a rhythm.

  Gina started giggling and then opened the door.

  “It’s just Trigga. You safe, Ray-Ray,” she said as she opened the door.

  Trigga came walking in with three Happy Meals bags. She squealed like the kid she was at heart.

  “Did you get me the little doll toys like I asked for, Trigga? Last time you didn’t. Mess up my collection.”

  “Yeah, shit should be straight,” his deep voice assured her.

  I looked on, but for some reason, I didn’t want him to look at me. I slowly pulled the comforter from the bed and covered myself. For the first time, I really looked at him. Short locks, tall, and stocky, he was built like he could run a football or track. Light honey-like eyes that looked like they had been lined with Kohl liner, and skin was brown with a red tint, like red clay. He had nice lips. Lips that looked like they could kiss my shame and pain away.

  I wondered, if things had been different, if we could have met in a different time and place. He was fine, reminded me of a Prince Charming, if the Prince had been a killer. He was young too. I wondered how young, but couldn’t really tell. All I knew was that he was a killer. Gina said I couldn’t kill him, but I wondered if I could make him kill me.

  When his eyes turned to look at me, I looked down at the shining hardwood floor. I pretended to find the lines in the hardwood interesting as Gina frantically searched through her Happy Meal bags. She was happy about her miniature dolls.

  “Thank you, Trigga. Big Jake still here?”

  “Yeah, my nigga in Dame office.”

  “You think he gon’ come see me?”

  I looked up in time to see Trigga smirk as he walked out the door. Gina giggled then started opening the plastic bag around her little dolls.

  A few hours later, after Gina had dressed me in all red, I sat on her bed as she combed my hair.

  “You gotta go in there and let Daddy know he can’t give you away. Gotta give him some of that ripe pussy. Daddy loves new shit. And he loves new pussy. You know you still kinda lucky. He ain’t fuck you yet. His dick kinda like super big, so it’s gon’ hurt ’cuz you ain’t never had no dick. So like this molly gon’ help you get in the groove of thangs. You yet wanna live, don’tcha?”

  I just nodded. My head was airy. I didn’t know if I wanted to live or not, but that pill she had given me just made me float away.

  “Yeah, I want to live.”

  “And you want to stay here with me, right?”

  I nodded again. “Yeah.”

  “Then listen to what I’m telling you. Just go in there and act like you wanna stay. Make Daddy feel good. I knows it’s fucked up, but it’s the only way you gon’ stay, and it would get that bitch Sasha good. She think she run shit ’cuz Daddy say she his bottom bitch, but she been pissing him off a lot. So you squeeze in there and claim the throne. He down ’cuz now niggas turning on him, talking mad grimy ’bout him in the street. So what you gotta do, since yo’ mama and daddy started this shit, is act like you wanna make it right.”

  She started humming as she brushed my hair some more.

  I heard what she was saying, and although I was floating, my head in the clouds, I knew she was right. It was time I started to play it smart. If I wanted to get out of here alive, I had to start fighting with my head.

  After she finished, she handed me another pill for later just in case this one wore off. “And drink some of that liquor he got, if you want to. That helps too. I know you wanna body these niggas, and you gon’ get yo’ chance ’cuz I’ma help you,” she whispered then smiled wide.

  I looked at her, and she nodded again with wide eyes.

  “What?”

  “I’ma help you I said, but first we gotta get you on good terms with the devil.”

  After she said that, she took my hand and rushed me out the door. My heels clacked the floor loudly as she led me down the long corridor over the extravagant banister, until we reached the left side of the house where Dame’s quarters were located.

  Niggas were looking up at me, making catcalls. A few said they couldn’t wait to fuck me up like I did them. I stored that in the back of my head to always watch my back.

  I looked at the large double doors that led to Dame’s bedroom.

  “He
still talking shit wit’ Trigga, but be in his room waiting on him. They been in the streets killing niggas. I mean, when Dame goes into the street to handle shit like that with Trigga, it’s bad. I hate to say this, but yo’ mama was a master ho, so you need to tap into some of that shit and save yo’ ass.”

  Gina kissed my lips softly. She’d done that a lot over the last couple of days. She’d kissed and touched me. I hated to admit that I’d felt something when she did. I liked the way she kissed me. I didn’t feel as if I wanted to die afterwards either, like I knew I was going to feel after Dame touched me.

  “Now go,” she said to me.

  I was moving by rote. Something—maybe I was possessed—allowed me to push that door to his room open. I walked in and cringed, and my body started to shiver. Somebody must have cleaned my blood from his marble floor. His big California king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room against the wall. The thick solid-oak bed had four pillars with the initials DOA carved into them, as did the headboard.

  Double stained glass doors led to an outside balcony, and there was another set of double doors that, I was sure, led to a closet. I could look straight ahead on my left and see the enormous bathroom. But what stood out the most was, his room was spotless. There was not even a strand of hair lying around.

  I slowly walked across the room and sat on the bed. There was a small bookstand there. On top sat a bottle of brown liquor. I wondered if I should take a shot of whatever it was. I didn’t know what else to think about other than what was about to happen to me. The effects of the pill kept me going in and out of sanity.

  By the time Dame got to his room that night, I was asleep in his bed. He woke me up by slapping a hard hand across my already bruised and sore thighs. I was scared, so by habit I woke up swinging. He caught both my wrists and slung me to the floor. His bed sat really high up so that fall was a long way down for me. My hair slug around and covered my face as I groaned out and sat up.

  Dame picked up a cigar and sat on a chair he had placed at the foot of the bed. “Why the fuck you in my bed?” he asked then crossed his leg, one ankle across his jean-clad thigh.

  Somebody’s blood was on his face, neck, chest, and shirt. And blood was on his shoes that were covered in a blue plastic thing. It looked like a shower cap for shoes. This nigga had just come from killing somebody. I wasn’t about to become his next victim. So I put that urge, the need to kill that bitch nigga, to the side.

  You gotta survive, Ray-Ray. Do what you gotta do to survive. My mama was in my head again. For a while I just sat where he had tossed me and looked up at him.

  A gun lay in his lap, and on the side of him was a bloody machete.

  My heart jumped to my throat. His eyes held no emotion. They told me that one wrong move and I was going to go missing. I didn’t want to go missing. That made me wonder if the police were even looking for me. Had they found my parents yet? Dame was usually a suave man, always kept himself up, clean-shaven face, and his haircut was always fresh. But today he looked like a madman. His hazel eyes stayed locked on mine, as one hand played with the cigar and the other lay atop the gun on his lap.

  Gina’s voice played in my head. “Show him you want to live.”

  I slowly stood then walked over him. The red lace thigh-high dress I had on was really just a piece of fabric. The V-cut came all the way down past my navel. Breasts were about to pop out anyway, so I pulled the straps down to reveal them. Niggas like him didn’t care about the bruises that decorated my body.

  I kicked the little dress off and then stood in only the red thongs and six-inch heels. He didn’t make a move. Didn’t even look fazed. His eyes raked over my body without him moving his head. From top to bottom he looked at me.

  “Turn around,” he ordered.

  I wanted to flinch but wasn’t fool enough to do so at that point. I was still scared as fuck. Didn’t know what the crazy nigga was about to do. My eyes closed, and I stopped breathing when I heard him move. The click I heard let me know that he had the gun cocked. He would have shot me had I done some crazy shit like before.

  My breathing got even more uneven when I felt him stand directly behind me. He moved my long hair to the side and ran a hand over my shoulder then his nose alongside my neck.

  I slyly raised my hand and popped the other pill, just so my nerves wouldn’t betray me. I was prepared for whatever, as long as he just got the shit over with.

  To my surprise, he turned and walked away. I saw him go to the bathroom, gun still in hand. That crazy part of me, the part that didn’t give a fuck about living, told me to pick up the machete and go after him. But that part of me that wanted to see life outside of these walls told me not to be so stupid, he would shoot me before I even picked it up.

  I sat there half-naked on his bed for another thirty minutes as he showered in the bathroom. When he called my name and ordered me into the bathroom, the pill had me walking on air. I walked in and found him standing in the shower. His back was to the closed glass doors, and I could see he had the letters DOA tatted on his back. That was what it felt like since I had walked into the house—dead on fuckin’ arrival.

  The shower was different than any I had ever seen. Instead of the water coming from a shower head, it came from the walls. I didn’t wait for him to tell me to step into the shower, I just pulled my thong off and got in.

  I had to admit that I stared at his body for a minute. I ain’t ever seen a man naked before in person, not a grown man. I had seen it online though. And my bestie had showed me pictures of her boyfriend’s dick on her phone. So I was a virgin in every sense of the word. My mama and my daddy, not wanting me to be like them, had told me to save myself for marriage.

  Dame’s body looked like it belonged on a poster in the gym. Every muscle was where it was supposed to be, with a few extra ones just because. My eyes traveled from his chest down to his abs and then widened when I saw his dick. Shit wasn’t even hard, but I knew it wasn’t gonna fit in me.

  I didn’t have time to think about that though because Dame snatched me to him and pushed my back into the wall. The spray of the water blinded me for a few seconds. His hand roughly touched between my legs, while the other one played with my titties.

  I tilted my head when his lips touched my neck. I was confused. I didn’t know what to feel. Couldn’t tell if my body was reacting or not.

  My mama whispered to me, “I know you scared, Ray-Ray, but a nigga is most vulnerable when his dick getting hard. You can have a nigga like Dame in the palm of your hands with the right touch.”

  I was rigid as I stood against the wall. There was a full-grown man touching me. I didn’t know how old Dame was, but I knew he was too old to be fuckin’ me.

  Mama, I don’t wanna do this, I said to her in my mind.

  “I know, Ray-Ray, but you gotta. Believe me when I tell you, you safer in here than on the streets. For now, baby . . . for now just survive so later you can live.”

  I squeezed my eyes tighter and started to let my tears flow.

  “Look at me, Diamond,” she whispered to me.

  I opened my eyes and saw her. I gasped then smiled when she waved and smiled at me with tears in her eyes. She stood there with her long curly jet-black hair flowing. She was dressed in the same outfit she had been killed in. No bullet hole was in her head, and her eyes were full of life.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” she said as just as Dame lifted me around his waist. “Ray and I wasn’t thinking straight. All we wanted to do was score a quick lick and get you the fuck up outta here. We just thought we could trust niggas, and we trusted the wrong ones. We just wanted enough dough to get outta the country. We had some hid away, but Ray didn’t think it was enough. We never wanted this shit for you. We wasn’t the best, but we tried with all we knew. We tried.” She sobbed, reaching for my hand.

  She was there, but so far away. I brought my hands around Dame’s neck and tried to reach for her. I wished she could just take me away.

  I swallowed
hard when he lifted me and sat me on his dick. He was only maybe an inch inside of me, and it hurt like hell.

  I knew he heard me crying, sobbing like the baby I was, telling him that it hurt, but that didn’t stop him. He lifted me up and down over and over until he got as far into me as he could.

  His moans, grunts, and groans were close to my ear. He went slow at first, and still I was barely able to stand it. So I tried using my hand to push at his hips.

  Then he started pounding me against the wall. My nails dug into his shoulders as I grit my teeth, still staring at the ghostly outline of my mama, who was wiping her tears away and shaking her head, saying she was sorry over and over again.

  Dame kept me locked up in the room with him for two days after that. He would leave before sun came up and then come back late, always damn-near drenched in blood. They said he was torturing somebody in the underworld. He made sure somebody brought me food all day. I didn’t leave that room, and he made it clear that nobody was allowed in there.

  Well, he let Gina come in, and he fucked both of us until he couldn’t no more.

  Dame’s dick didn’t seem to ever get soft. He stayed between my legs so much, my pussy lips were swollen and sore.

  After the first couple times he fucked me, the shit ain’t hurt no more, until the first time he did it from the back. When I tried to run away from him, he grabbed my shoulders and fucked me harder.

  I was bleeding; it felt like my insides were about to fall out. My stomach started to hurt so badly that when he stopped, all I could do was ball up like a baby. I couldn’t move for a few hours.

  I wouldn’t dare tell him to stop because it hurt, since he kept that damn gun and machete close to him always.