Ken pulled the blanket back, exposing Feo, who was using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. Ken then flipped over on all fours and, just as easy as a man entering a women, Feo slid into his ass and started fucking him.
Candy had heard and seen enough. Like a leopard on its prey, she rushed up to the left side of the bed and smashed Feo on the side of his head with the butt of the gun.
Feo fell back off of Ken and cried out in pain. “Awww, my head! My head.” He rolled from left to right as blood spilled from his head.
Ken pushed himself up in the bed. He rested his back against the headboard. “Candy, what the hell are you doing in my house?” he barked.
“The streets told me you was running wit’ Feo, but, damn, I’m not thinkin’ y’all was getting down like this.” She looked at both of them in disgust.
Feo balled up, holding his head.
“Feo, shut yo’ ass up and crawl up there next to yo’ bitch!” Candy pointed her gun at Feo.
Feo slowly made his way up to the head of the bed and flipped over on his back.
“Ken, I been paying you to make sure that Raynail walks outta court next month”—she then looked over at Feo—“’cause some stupid-ass niggas set him up, and here you are, sleeping with the enemy?” She pointed the gun at Feo. “Feo, you and Raynail go way back to second grade.” She shook her head and looked down at Ken’s dick. “Pull the blanket over y’all ass,” she snapped. “I ain’t tryin’a see that shit.”
Feo reached down for the blanket where he was met by Ken, who helped him to pull the blanket up over them.
“Feo, you and Raynail been knowing each other for a long time,” she continued. “You fuckin’ ruined y’all friendship. You would’a came out better settin’ up one of them other dudes that was wit’ y’all.”
Feo held the blanket against the side of his head to stop the blood. “You right, Candy, and I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” she yelled. “My husband facing the chair, and all you can say is that you sorry?”
“Candy, look. I can make one call first thing in the morning, and Raynail will be out before noon,” Ken said.
“Do I look stupid to you, Ken?” she asked him. “And, why you bitchin’ up all of a sudden? Nigga, you’s a Fruit Town Brim. I bet they don’t even know you get down like this. I wish I had a camera.”
Ken sucked his teeth.
“So, where my money?” she asked Ken.
Ken looked at Candy. He then looked straight ahead, saying nothing.
“I asked you a question, Ken.” She pressed the muzzle of the gun against his temple. “Where’s my money?”
Feo looked over at Ken. “Man, give her the money so she can go!”
Ken wiped his nose. He looked coldly at Candy. “The money is gone.” He turned and looked at Feo. “Me and Feo spent the shit. And, anyway, I been doing this shit long enough to know that whether I give you the money back or not, I’m still dead.” He sat up straight and rubbed his beard. “I guess my time is up.” Ken smiled and looked past Candy at his mother’s picture on the wall. He then took his right trigger finger and ran it down the two teardrops beneath his eye.
Candy recognized the look that Ken was giving her. He was no longer Ken, but Baby Ghost from Fruit Town Brims in Inglewood.
Baby Ghost was a coldhearted killer, who never unwillingly saw the insides of a prison. And when he did, he was visiting one of his clients. Back in the day, he was the leader of Inglewood’s Fruit Town Brims. The Fruit Town Brims would always be in his blood, law degree or not.
Ken cut his eyes at Feo and shook his head. He sensed Candy’s displeasure. He then looked at her and smiled. Ken closed his eyes, preparing to meet his Maker.
Candy let out a long sigh. She raised the Magnum and shot Ken right between his eyes.
Ken’s chin dropped to his chest. His body leaned slowly to the right, and fell over onto the floor.
“Oh, shit!” Feo jumped up from the bed with his hands raised above his head. “Please, Candy, don’t do this.”
Candy pointed the gun at Feo and walked around the bed. She then stopped in front of him. “It’s nothing you can say, Feo. It’s nothing you can say or do that will change things. I guess yo’ time is up too.” Candy let off two rounds in Feo’s chest.
Feo fell to the floor. He looked up at Candy before taking his last breath.
Candy walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to the top of the stairs. She then walked down the stairs and stopped at the front door. Candy glanced around the house.
Pictures of Ken with his wife and daughter decorated the walls. In one picture, his wife was standing in front of Southwest Airlines dressed in a flight attendant’s uniform.
Hmmmmm, maybe she’s at work, Candy thought. Now won’t she be surprised when she gets home.
Chapter 8
Raynail looked back at Candy and his mother, who were sitting behind him. He didn’t know that all of the witnesses were dead. It had been three weeks since he had spoken to Candy during one of her visits with him in jail. And when he did see her, she was talking in code. It was a waiting game, and he only hoped that he would come out a winner.
Nervous, Raynail held his hands together in front of him as if he were praying. He then turned and looked at Candy.
“I love you,” Candy mouthed to Raynail.
Raynail responded with a smile.
On the outside Candy smiled back, but on the inside she was crying. Murphy had not answered any of her calls, so she didn’t know if Lil John was going to show up in court to testify against Raynail.
Candy squeezed her mother-in-law’s hand. She gazed around the courtroom into the eyes of the victims’ families.
He didn’t kill your husband. He wasn’t even in LA when your brother was murdered, Candy wanted to yell. Instead, she sat quiet as she waited for the trial to begin.
“All rise.” A deputy, standing next to the court recorder, waited as everyone stood to acknowledge the judge’s presence. “Judge Pernita Tinsley presiding.”
The judge walked out of an adjacent door that was behind the court clerk, which led from her chambers to the courtroom. She walked up the side stairs of the bench to her “throne.”
Once the judge was seated, the deputy looked at everybody in the courtroom and said, “You may be seated.” Everybody, with the exception of the camera crews, sat down.
The judge cleared her throat. She picked up a folder on her desk. She then read from the cover. “This is the case of the City of Los Angeles vs. Raynail Jennings. Are both sides prepared to begin?” She removed her glasses. She then looked from the prosecutor’s table to the defense’s table.
With sweat forming across his forehead, the prosecutor stood up with a napkin in his hand. He looked over at Raynail and his attorney. “Request for a sidebar, please,” he nervously said.
Raynail’s attorney looked at him and patted him on the back. He then stood up and walked over to the judge, followed by the prosecutor.
“Your Honor, unfortunately my witnesses are all dead,” the prosecutor whispered. He ran his hands through the top of his hair.
“Well, do you have any signed statements from your now deceased witnesses stating that the defendant is responsible for the murders?” the judge asked.
“Um ... actually I don’t.” The prosecutor licked his chapped lips. “Only because the witnesses agreed to show up in court.”
“Other than the witnesses, what other evidence were you prepared to submit before the court?” The judge was growing impatient. It was obvious that the case was over.
“Your Honor, I was relying on my witnesses’ testimony. They were going to place the defendant at the scene of each murder and point him out as the shooter.”
“I hope you realize that you have brought a case before the court—”
“But, Your Honor, I—”
“No, let me finish.” The judge rubbed her temple. “This is a very high-profile case. Six people are dead, including an officer
. Do you understand how important this case is?”
The prosecutor nodded his head.
“Is there anything else that you would like to tell me?”
“Your Honor, I agreed to try this case because no other lawyer would take it,” the prosecutor said. “The defendant and his wife are killers from what I understand.”
The judge looked at both the prosecutor and the defense attorney. “You both may go back to your positions.”
Both lawyers returned to their tables and remained standing. Raynail’s attorney tapped him on his shoulder and motioned with his hand for him to stand.
Raynail stood up. He looked from his attorney to Candy and his mother. Their faces held concern. And not knowing what was going on himself, Raynail too looked concerned.
“Will both sides please stand,” the judge ordered.
Raynail and his attorney were already standing. Raynail looked at the prosecutor’s table and watched a second prosecutor stand up.
“It was just brought to my attention by the prosecution that the witnesses against the defendant are deceased.” Gasps could be heard throughout the courtroom. “Despite the severity of this case, the prosecution has failed to obtain any other evidence that could have led to a conviction. I am very disappointed with the prosecution for trying such an important case with such little evidence. But, I am not here to discipline them, although I should, being that there are family members of the victims who are here expecting justice to be served. Because it is the duty of the prosecution to submit either witness testimony or documentation, if not both, stating that the defendant is in fact guilty, it is my duty to dismiss this case on the grounds of not insufficient evidence, but no evidence on the part of the prosecution. The defendant is to be released immediately.” The judged banged her gavel and exited the courtroom to her chambers.
With Candy and Raynail’s mother being the only people in court to support Raynail, the anger outweighed the cheers. Reporters filed out of the courtroom, into the hall, where they surrounded the family of the slain officer. Since murder was common among people from the ghetto, the other victims’ families walked out of the courtroom like nothing ever happened.
Raynail turned to his lawyer and shook his hand. He turned to Candy and his mother. He pushed his chair to the side, and leaned over the rail that separated the spectators from the defense’s table. He wrapped his arms around both of them and gave them a hug.
“You did good, baby, real good.” Raynail kissed Candy on her cheek.
“Yeah, you owe me.” Candy laughed. “And I’m collecting tonight.” She gave him a seductive look.
“Hey, don’t talk like that in front of me.” His mother smiled. “So you two can spend some time together, I’ll watch the baby.”
“Naw, Ma, he coming home wit’ us,” Raynail said. A deputy walked up behind Raynail. He was waiting to take him to get processed out. Raynail turned around and looked at the deputy. He could feel the deputy’s breath on his neck.
Raynail took two steps forward. “Yeah, RayRay gonna come home wit’ us. I wanna spend some time wit’ him. But what about Saturday?” The deputy cleared his throat and, sensing his urgency, Raynail cut the conversation short. “Look, let me go fill out this paperwork so we can roll out.”
“Okay, we’ll be waiting for you in the lobby.” Candy picked her purse up off the seat. She and her mother-in-law then headed out of the courtroom.
Raynail’s mother stopped and turned to look at Raynail.
Raynail, followed by two deputies, walked out of the courtroom and through a side door to the right of the judge’s bench.
My baby’s coming home ... He’s coming home, she thought. She turned to Candy, who was standing with the door open, and walked out of the courtroom.
Candy was in the kitchen cooking when her cell phone started going off. She picked her cell phone up from the counter. She then looked at the caller ID. She snapped off a paper towel, and wiped grease from her hands onto it.
“So you finally decided to call me, huh?”
“Yeah, um ... I was just calling to let you know we handled that,” Murphy told her.
“But, why haven’t you answered my calls,” Candy yelled into the phone. She looked over at the couch at Raynail and the baby. “Raynail’s court date was a week ago.”
“I know why you was calling,” he nonchalantly said. “And there’s a valid reason why I didn’t answer.”
“Okay, so why didn’t you answer?” Candy walked over to the stove and picked up a fork. She flipped over the chicken in the skillet. She frowned after realizing that Murphy hadn’t said anything. “Hello, Murphy?” He still didn’t respond. This nigga think I’m playin’. I hope he ain’t tryin’a play me for my money. “Murphy, what’s the scoop!”
“Candy, I’m already knowing you was calling about that job you gave me and that’s why I ain’t answered the phone. I’m not about to chat about some shit like that over the wire. Plus, I specifically told you not to call me. I told you I would call you when the job was done, and I have. So, don’t get all worked up ’cause a nigga didn’t answer his phone, ’cause the way I see it, you shouldn’t have called me anyway.”
Candy didn’t feel like arguing. She was just glad that it was over. The money was on point and the two most important men in her life were at home. “A’ight, Murphy, you right. I should have known when he didn’t show up in court that the shit was taken care of. We cool. And, yo?”
“Yeah, what’s up?” Murphy replied.
“Keep them guns loaded. I might need to use you again.” Candy laughed.
“Oh, fo’ sho. That’s what’s up.” Murphy laughed before ending the call.
Candy cut the fire off beneath the skillet. She took the chicken out of the skillet and placed it on top of a napkin on a plate. She then walked over to the kitchen table and looked in the living room at her husband and son, who were asleep on the couch. Raynail was lying across the couch with one leg hanging off the couch onto the floor. RayRay was on his chest asleep with his head resting on Raynail’s left breast above his heart. It was a father-and-son moment and Candy stood savoring all of it.
Candy thought back to her conversation with Raynail about going legit. She decided that the idea didn’t sound so bad after all. The real estate business was booming, and she had met with the owners of several professional basketball teams, hoping to invest.
Five killings in less than a month had tired her out, but the love that she had for her family was worth it. If she had to do it all over again, she would.
Never in her five years of being in the game had she heard of a dude holding things down in the streets the way that she had. Not only did she and Raynail still have all of Century City in Westwood on lockdown, but they also had their love on lockdown.
DANGEROUS: A DIFFERENT KIND OF GIRL FROM THE HOOD
by Nikki-Michelle
For Nikeya & Michelle and thanks Dale.
Chapter 1
Don’t bother asking my age because I’ll never tell you. Don’t even bother asking why I was sitting in class, daydreaming about having sex with my teacher even though he had a platinum wedding band on his finger. I never gave two shits about the woman a man had at home, not when I wanted what I wanted. And, what I wanted was him, Mr. Rodriguez. I could always get a man to do whatever I wanted. The more they told me no, the more persistent I became. Telling me no was like telling a brick wall to move. No, to me, meant yes and they just didn’t know it yet. No man would ever tell me no and think that would be the end of it.
So there I sat, looking at the teacher; my eyes locked on him as they had been many days since he’d started over a year ago. Not because I gave two shits about what he was teaching, but because he was making me come where I sat. My pussy was so wet that I had crossed my legs and leaned forward to keep myself from sliding out of my desk. He was perfect. He stood all of six feet and I was longing to jump up, wrap my legs around his waist, and ride him until he was begging me to stop. His
skin was kissed golden by the sun with dimples evenly placed on either side of his smiling cheeks. He was black. That was obvious. What was also obvious was that he was mixed with Spanish heritage that just made him even more appealing. His lips looked as if they tasted like butterscotch and his eye color matched that of warm, flowing honey. Yes, my teacher was sexy as all get out.
“Okay, so with that being said, who can tell me just what makes applied statistics such a hard concept for some students to grasp?” he asked the class.
“Because the shit is hard,” answered a boy in the back of the class, causing a few of us and Mr. Rodriguez to laugh a bit.
“Watch your language, first off. Other than it being hard, what makes applied statistics so hard for some students?”
I raised my hand like a good student.
“Yes, Ms. Dixon.”
“Because some students get intimidated by the numbers and the spreadsheets, making it harder than it needs to be.”
He nodded my way with a smile. “Although I was looking for a more academic answer, Ms. Dixon laid it out for you in layman’s terms. Most people are intimidated when they see what it takes to pass a class such as applied statistics, and they make it much harder on themselves by giving up before they start. Good answer, Ms. Dixon.”
I watched as he walked back around his desk and picked up some chalk to write on the board. His masculine makeup from the back was just as delightful as the front.
“Tonight, I want each of you to work on the spreadsheet in workshop one of your textbooks. Read the directions carefully before starting and do what you can to the best of your ability. This will be for a grade so be sure to turn it in. Tomorrow we will go over it in class and see how we all fared.”
Just as he finished talking the ticker went off on my watch, letting me know this class was done for the day. I started to pack my belongings like everyone else and prepared to leave the class. I smiled, thinking that everything I did when it came to getting a man was a calculated move. The way I talked to them, the way I looked at them, the way I dressed: it was all a ploy to get what I wanted. Most times after I was done getting what I wanted, I left them alone, changed phone numbers, and moved on to the next.
Girls From da Hood 7 Page 8