“You thought that was an actual question?” KoKo shot Goldie a dirty look.
Night slammed his final card and then collected his money. “Yeah niggas, keep them pockets on the table. I’ll be right back,” he stated as he stood up to greet KoKo.
“What’s up, ma?” he asked, rising to his feet.
“You tell me,” KoKo shot back as she approached the table.
“We just having a little down time. Come meet the crew.” Night looked over KoKo’s facial expressions.
“This is Brian, Goldie’s brother. This is Neeko. He holds down the street crew. And this is Roscoe. He is in charge of the runs.”
“Is that right?” KoKo went right into bitch mode. “So, let me calculate this shit for a minute. You got security and intel off the streets playing cards while I guess the streets are watching themselves.”
“Nah, we got people covering all areas,” Neeko responded.
“I’m not fucking talking to you,” KoKo calmly stated.
Neeko’s eyebrows rose and his nostrils flared. KoKo stopped and caught eyes with each man. “Here it is I been down here for less than twenty-four hours, and I find out niggas are moving against us. And then I walk up on the very niggas who are responsible for this area and find y’all seated out in the fucking open playing fucking games,” she barked with her teeth clenched.
Not wasting any time, Night jumped in. “Let’s meet up in a little while. Let me get with the boss.”
The three men stood straight up feeling like bitches. They were not used to dealing with KoKo. They only had to answer to Chico, and his style was very different.
“Sorry about this. We on point. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again,” Brian said with his thick Atlanta accent.
“It’s all good. I just don’t want to have to send wreaths to your families. These muthafuckas ain’t playing. You gotta stay one step ahead or lose yours.” KoKo headed into Goldie’s house. On her way past, she looked at Goldie. “Get these bitches outta here. If they need to relax, let them do it on their own time.”
Goldie and Night escorted everyone out, and then joined KoKo in the living room.
KoKo sat with her legs crossed and attitude on hot.
“I guess the South don’t make you want to chill the fuck out, huh?” Night asked as he took a seat.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you forget that we got niggas coming for our neck?”
“I know what the fuck is going on.” Night sat forward. “You need to remember that I got this. You sent me down here to do a job, and I got it. Just like I have been handling everything else, I am handling this.”
“Are you sure?” KoKo asked as the crease formed in her forehead.
“Don’t ever question my loyalty. I have been in the shadows helping Kayson before you even knew he existed. I took care of you when shit got rough and kept you and Quran safe. You have a habit of going off when you don’t know what the fuck is going on, but that is something that you will have to work on.” He paused and made eye contact. “For your jumping-the-gun ass information, that was a meeting I was conducting. They know what’s up, and we were regrouping per your orders from Chico.”
KoKo just looked at Night, searching his face for any inconsistency.
“Yeah, now you ain’t got shit to say. I got this . . . I been doing this shit ever since your ass was in Underoos. You better recognize.”
“My bad.” KoKo smiled. “Where the weed at? You know a bitch be grouchy when she don’t burn something.”
“Fuck outta here. Your ass just mean as hell for no fucking reason at all.” Night chuckled. “You need therapy.”
Goldie walked cautiously toward them, preparing her ears for KoKo’s bullshit.
“I brought my PowerPoint presentation to the meeting,” Goldie said, holding out an ounce of weed neatly rolled in a Ziploc bag.” She threw on a smile to lighten the mood.
“Light that shit up and sit down. We got business to handle.”
“That’s her way of saying sorry,” Night stated as he took a blunt from Goldie.
“Fuck y’all,” KoKo responded.
Night and Goldie chuckled and puffed as KoKo pulled the IDs from her pocket and started her spiel.
“Okay, his name is Detective Greg Warren,” KoKo informed them while taking the blunt from Goldie’s hands.
Night and Goldie listened intentively as KoKo laid out the plan.
When KoKo was done, Goldie stood up to get dressed and began the first stage of the plan: set the trap.
“So, is everything good between you and Goldie?” KoKo probed.
“Yeah, we straight,” Night sat back folding his hand over his chest.
KoKo just looked at him. She could see in his demeanor that it was more to the situation, but she decided to let it go.
Later that Night . . .
KoKo and Night pulled up to Diablo’s Alpharetta home. “Why you got all this fucking car? A bitch need a stepping stool or something,” she said, exiting Night’s big, black, murdered out Hummer.
“It’s to go with the other big black shit I got,” he spat back, coming around to her side.
“I don’t need that information for nothing.” She wrinkled her brows.
“You asked,” he responded as they headed to the door. “Well, keep your big black shit to yourself. Don’t fuck up
my mission.”
“Why the fuck you keep saying that? You act like I be fucking everybody.”
KoKo looked at him with her lips twisted.
“I ain’t thinking about yo’ ass. Knock on the door.”
“You need to keep a good eye on me, because if this bitch says the wrong thing we might have to come out shooting.”
“Don’t worry, we walking in and we walking out. It’s business. It ain’t personal.”
Before KoKo could knock on the door, it opened.
Two of Diablo’s goons stood looking at them like they were selling Bibles or some shit.
“We have an appointment,” KoKo stated.
“I know that,” the big baldheaded, muscle bound dude said, pulling the door open wider.
“Then why the fuck you staring at me like you didn’t know I was coming?” KoKo quickly forgot she was going to try and be cool.
The guy didn’t even dignify her smart-ass remark with a response. “Diablo is downstairs next to the pool,” he instructed.
KoKo rolled her eyes and headed to the basement door. “I thought we were being cool,” Night reminded her.
“I can’t stand that nigga,” she spat, walking down the stairs.
After turning a few corners, they arrived at the glass doors that led to Diablo’s indoor pool.
Pulling them open, KoKo scanned the room to do a head count. Then she got disgusted when her eyes rested on some lesbian porn and a group of naked bitches acting the shit out on a stack of pillows right next to the screen.
“This that bullshit,” KoKo mumbled as she approached the table where Diablo was sitting smoking a cigar and watching the action.
“KoKo,” she sang in her raspy voice as a smile came across her face.
“What’s up?” KoKo asked, placing herself with her back to the action.
“Nothing much. Just enjoying a little poolside fun,” she responded as her eyes rested back in the direction of the orgy that was well underway.
KoKo’s stomach turned as the surround sound belted out moans that filled the whole area.
“What’s up, Night? Please have a seat and enjoy the show.” She extended her hospitality.
“Sheeiit . . . I’ll fuck around and get fired for eating on the job,” he said, looking over at the contorted bodies. Titties, ass, and bald pussies all moving in sync to their pleasure. His mouth watered as his dick slightly nudged his zipper.
“KoKo don’t let y’all have any fun. She all work. But a nigga like me like a little 3D in the afternoon.” She looked up at Night and then back at the show.
“So, what can I do for you, Mr
s. KoKo?” she asked, not looking up.
“We need to settle any pending beefs and get back on track.”
“Beefs? I haven’t heard anything,” Diablo said, pulling on her cigar.
“I don’t give a fuck about what you haven’t heard. I operate on what I know.”
Diablo sat silent for a few seconds. “So, what you want me to do about your so-called knowledge?”
“I need you to make your bitches act right, because they don’t want none of my get right,” KoKo spat.
Diablo chuckled. “You should know by now I don’t bend to threats.”
“And you should know by now I don’t make ‘em.”
Diablo looked into KoKo’s eyes. “Well, I tell you what. Pull your bitches back, and I’ll instruct mine not to smash them if they don’t obey.”
KoKo took in some air, swallowed her spit, and said as diplomatically as she could, “Let me explain something to you. Everybody on my team is family. And the only thing worse than fucking with me, is fucking with them. What I am going to do is continue to get money, because we got shit on the table, and I don’t fuck with my money. I’ll stay out your way. You stay the fuck outta mine. But if you fuck with my family, we all gonna fill some black bags and deep holes.” She planted her eyes firmly on Diablo.
“You sexy as hell. You need to switch teams, so I can help you relax. Because obviously, dick ain’t doin’ it,” Diablo shot back.
“Bitch, you don’t even know what team you on. Y’all bitches hate men, wanna eat pussy, but got strap ons . . . Fuck outta here!” KoKo said, backing up to leave. “You wish you could taste KoKo. Then I would have some more things I can own.” She looked around the room. “Just remember my warning.”
“You talk a lot of shit.” Diablo watched her ass jiggle as she walked away.
“No, I talk facts, then shit happens,” KoKo said without even breaking her stride.
“Thanks for the show,” Night said, following KoKo. “Anytime.” Diablo went back to puffing her cigar and watching the ring of pleasure on the other side of the pool, apparently unfazed by KoKo’s threats.
When they got to the car, Night looked over at KoKo. “I thought this was supposed to be a peaceful gathering,” he teased.
“Yo’ ass was supposed to keep me from going off.” “My bad. I had a pussy block.”
“Niggas,” KoKo shot back. “So, what you think?”
“We gonna have to kill somebody. Simple as that,” she said as he drove off.
- 15 -
Nita's
KoKo arrived back in New York from Atlanta a day before the party. She easily flipped modes from beast to beauty and prepared to make a statement at the effect. Picking up the phone, she dialed her stylist, Benita. “What’s up, ma?” Benita said into the phone.
“What’s good?”
“Nothing. Trying to make this money.”
“Can you come out to the house and hook me up today?” “Damn, I wish I could, but I had two bitches call off, and
the shop is flooded. But you can come through here, and I’ll hook you right up.”
“You know I can’t be sitting in no fucking shop all day.” “Oh nah, never that. As soon as you get here it’s all about you. You already know. Plus, I want you to see where your investment went.” Benita was smiling from ear-to-ear. She had been trying to get KoKo down there for months.
KoKo paused. “Ai’ight. I’ll be there in an hour.” She hung up.
Within an hour, KoKo was pulling up to the salon. She parked and jumped out.
When she hit the door wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, a burnt orange bulletproof vest and a pair of boots, all eyes were on her. She removed her shades to take a quick inventory of all the bitches in attendance; the shop was packed wall to wall.
Benita had it all covered. There was an area for every facet of beauty. One area was for nails, feet, eyelashes, brows, and piercing. Across from that was a set of steps that led to a room that overlooked the shop, which was a barbershop. Toward the back were two waiting areas, one was where females could read, watch TV, and have a drink while waiting. The other was for taking out weaves and braids and was closed off by curtains. Past that were twenty sinks full of heads getting washed. The last two areas were all the way in the back. One large area was for styling hair and the other for massage.
A bitch could get a whole day’s beauty in one place. And it was the only one like it in the hood. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors opened the shop up and made it appear bigger than it was. The lime green leather chairs and many palm tree plants gave it an island feel. KoKo had to admit Benita did her thing.
“Hey, Mrs. KoKo,” a few of the workers began to yell out. KoKo nodded and kept on walking.
Females were watching all the respect that she was getting. When she got to the steps leading upstairs, three guys came down, who just so happened to be KoKo’s Harlem lieutenants. “Bosssss . . .” D-Low yelled out. He embraced her. The others each took their turn. He pulled her aside and whispered in her ear. Then he went in his pocket, pulled out some money,
and handed it to her.
KoKo smiled and pointed at the ladies sitting in the nail area. “Pookie, pay for whatever they getting,” she said, tossing the stack to her.
“No problem.” Pookie caught it and put it in the drawer. “Let me find out you getting your Santa on,” D-Low commented on her generosity.
“Those who give with an open hand will always have something in it.”
“That’s why I fucks with you.” He leaned in and hugged her.
“Ai’ight, let a bitch get her some reconstruction on her shit,” she said, walking away.
“Catch you later.” The three men turned to walk out the shop.
KoKo threw up her deuces and kept it moving.
When she got to the back, Benita was ecstatic. KoKo had given her all the money to start her business. Plus, she supplied the security, so she could run it in peace. Therefore, Benita showed nothing but loyalty.
“Let’s go. You know a bitch is busy,” KoKo yelled as she approached.
“Hey, momma. Come sit right here.” Benita pointed at the sink next to her station, which was only for high paying customers.
KoKo sat down and crossed her legs. She reached into a pocket on her vest, pulled out a fat spliff, and lit it up.
Everyone looked on in amazement. Some people even frowned up.
“Yo, little momma, go get me something to drink and don’t open it,” KoKo yelled to Benita’s sidekick.
“What you want?”
“You choose.” KoKo sat back and puffed.
Benita hurried the woman out of her chair, sending her to the dryer. As she rushed over to KoKo, a few females sucked their teeth. They had been waiting for a while, and she had just walked in.
KoKo picked up on it immediately and got ready to say something, but Benita beat her to it.
“Look, be patient. She pays for the air y'all breathing up in this muthafucka, so just read your magazine and shut the fuck up. I’ll be with y'all bitches in a minute,” she said as she put the apron around KoKo’s neck and prepared her for her wash.
Bitches rolled their eyes, but did just like they were told.
Once KoKo was done, Benita brought her to the chair, put a dry apron on her, and continued to dry her hair. She pulled the cart over to the chair and began setting KoKo’s hair with the big rollers.
KoKo got under the dryer, and when she was done, Benita began styling her hair. She couldn’t help but listen to the chicks talking shit about the niggas they were fucking with and the shit they were going through.
When they started talking about sucking all these sorry ass niggas’ dicks, she was glad that Benita was done, because the thing she definitely could not stomach was to hear a bitch proud that she broke off a deadbeat ass nigga.
“So, Mrs. KoKo, I heard that fine ass nigga Baseem is home. How he doing?” Nikki asked.
“He good.”
“Now that nigga right t
here can get it. I’d suck his dick in the middle of Time’s Square in a bikini with a bumper sticker on my ass that reads: So, the fuck what!”
They all burst out laughing. “Damn, it’s like that?”
“Just like that. That nigga fine for no reason at all,” Nikki said, turning her customer in the seat. “If that nigga get lonely, tell him to holla at me.”
KoKo stood up, shaking her head as she paid Benita. The woman looked over at the knot of money that she was paying her. One of Benita’s stylists yelled out, “Damn, ma. I need a customer like KoKo.”
KoKo smiled and used the opportunity as a teaching session. “Yeah, this is what not sucking dick will get you,” she said, straightening her stack, placing it back in her pocket.
“Oh, Lord, don’t talk about sucking dick around KoKo.”
Benita knew KoKo was going to drop some jewels before she left.
“Why? She don’t get it sloppy sometimes?” one of the hating ass females said, accepting the challenge.
“Nah, not the Diva.” Nikki smiled.
“You don't have to suck dick when you got good pussy,” KoKo said as she got in ‘bitch you about to get it’ mode.
“Oh shit! I hear that,” Maureen, another stylist said, trying to get it going. She couldn’t wait to hear what would come out of KoKo’s mouth next.
“Fuck that! I’ll suck the skin off a dick,” the customer said, slapping hands with the chick she was cool with.
KoKo cracked a half smile and then went in. “You’ll suck the skin off a dick, huh?”
“Sure do,” she said, turning in her seat and rolling her neck, looking in KoKo’s direction for a response.
“How much money you got in your pocket?” KoKo asked.
The woman got quiet.
Not wanting to seem soft in front of her girls, she responded, “I got a little bank roll.” She pulled out a few dollars and then stuffed it back in her pocket.
“Yeah, I thought so. Bullshit ass paper. That’s because you got that French fry pussy. Sheeit . . . If a nigga can fuck you and just feed you, then who needs you?”
“Oh shit. Here we go,” Benita said, folding her arms and leaning up against the counter.
The Pussy Trap 3 Page 8