Rissa looked up and around for her girl. She didn’t see her. The front door was wide open. Kimmy had got the fuck on when Rissa attacked the housekeeper. She wanted no part of that unwarranted act. She had had enough violence for one day. Rissa ran outside as well and jumped in the car with Kimmy. The person manning the iron gate opened it, oblivious to the thievery and attempted murder on the housekeeper that had just jumped off.
The duo didn’t believe it would be safe to go back to the loft, so they drove out to Southfield and checked into the Residence Inn. They kicked back with the television on, and lay across the king-sized bed, going through piles of client and blackmail lists. It was unbelievable for Rissa to fathom who Madam Valerie had her hooks in on the con game tip. But not for Kimmy; she’d originally helped set some of them up for failure. As they dug deeper into the folders Rissa came upon to some documents with BANK OF AMERICA on them. “Look at these. Is these what I think they is?” Rissa said, excited.
“Let me see that shit,” Kimmy said, unenthused until she read the bank documents along with account numbers, routing information, and PINs to all of Madam Valerie’s money. “Bitch, we rich! We about to drain this ho for every dime she got.” Immediately Kimmy got on the phone with the bank and locked the woman she’d whored for out of all her accounts, and changed everything so she controlled them.
Kimmy and Rissa were celebrating their come up when channel four’s live breaking news interrupted the normal broadcast. The reporter was hyped up, telling the story about a man who was high on PCP walking in the middle of downtown Detroit’s Hart Plaza. He waved an automatic firearm at people, ranting and raving about how many people he’d killed. Luckily, officers were on duty and shot the suspect several times, killing him at the scene.
Rissa and Kimmy jumped off the bed screaming, whooping, and doing the Running Man. “Got ’im!” Rissa said, high-fiving Kimmy.
When they had calmed down, Kimmy had an idea to call a client of hers, who happened to be Paul Curt, a federal judge and on the blackmail list. Rissa gasped. “No, come on, Kimmy. Everybody knows him. He ain’t out there like that.”
“No way, he’s not on the hound train for pussy. Madam Valerie got him taking bribe money from some downtown development company that’s buying up everything. So I thought he might like to give the old shoe Madam Valerie a kick around or two.” Kimmy grabbed her cell phone. “Watch this shit here. He calls me his pretty kitty.” She dialed his number, and when he picked up she went into action. “Hello, Judge Sexy, how are you? Me, I’m just fine now that I hear your voice.” She spoke softly and seductively. “I got something in my hands right now I believe you’d like to take a peek at.”
“Is that so, pretty kitty?” the judge sang into the phone.
* * *
The next day Kimmy met with the judge for lunch and gave him his own file of blackmail information and all the other city officials’ files that the notorious Madam Valerie had in her possession. Two weeks later Madam Valerie was standing in front of a federal judge, being arraigned under the RICO Act, facing several of the same charges famed mobster and crime boss John Gotti had gotten got life for, including human trafficking and a host of other charges. If she was found guilty she’d never see the light of day again.
Rissa and Kimmy moved down to Miami and jacked off Madam Valerie’s money, living life like celebrities. Yet, no matter how much fun Rissa was having, she could never forget the love of her young life, Bobby. His memory would haunt her forever.
THE END
CUTTHROAT DIVAS
by Racquel Williams
CHAPTER ONE
London
“Man, it’s hot as fuck out here. I’m about to go in this motherfucking house,” Ajanay said.
“That’s what I was thinking, but I swear I really don’t want to hear this bitch mouth yapping about some bullshit that I’ont feel like hearing right now,” Sheika said as she took a few more pulls of the blunt that was halfway done.
“Man, pass that shit. Let me hit it one more time before I leave,” I said to Sheika.
I took a few drags and then gave the roach back to her. This was some good-ass weed that my homie gave me. I really wasn’t into getting high, but lately I was stressed the fuck out. I was about to turn eighteen and, instead of things looking up for me, I felt like my life was spiraling downhill.
Before I get to talking about my fucked-up-ass life, let me introduce myself. My name is London. I feel like God did me wrong when He created me because of all the shit that I’ve been through in my seventeen years in this wicked world. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great life growing up for the first fifteen years of my life, when my parents were still married. My daddy was a great man who provided for his family, but he was not so good to my mother. He used to beat the hell out of her, putting her into the hospital a few times. Everyone around us knew what was going on, but they didn’t dare say anything or report him to the police. See, my daddy was a big-time dope boy from Whitcomb Court and everybody knew that he and his crew were nothing to be played with. So Mama endured all the pain that he instilled in her.
The older I got, the more I realized that she was weak and I wanted to be nothing like her. My home life became horrible because of all the fussing and fighting that would take place. I would just lock myself in my room and bury my head under my pillows until I thought it was safe, and that was when I didn’t hear any more screams coming from my parents’ bedroom.
All of this came to end one fateful day when the feds busted up in our house to arrest my father. My mother was screaming and carrying on but, truthfully, I was happy deep inside. Don’t get me wrong, I love my father, but I was sick of him controlling our lives.
I watched as they removed everything from our house. We didn’t have any money because my mother didn’t save anything, and all the money that Daddy had was taken by the government.
We didn’t have any family who was willing to take us in, so we ended up going to a shelter that catered to women and children. My life was horrible then, and I was very miserable because I wasn’t used to this kind of living. It took us a few months to get a two-bedroom house in the projects, which was a block over from where we had our house. Mama’s pride was hurt because she went from having everything to having nothing. She was forced to get a job so she could support me and my two little brothers. Personally, I thought she should have been happy that my dad was no longer around to whup her ass anymore.
Daddy ended up getting twenty-five years in the fed. Mama took it really hard and turned to smoking crack. It wasn’t no secret because all the neighborhood dope boys would run in and out of our apartment, all times of the day. She was so strung out that days would go by and she would lie up in her room, not giving a damn. I became a surrogate mother to my two brothers, which was sad because they started running the street also.
I was determined to finish school and get my ass far away from Mama and her antics. Sometimes I do miss Daddy, and I wish he were still around because, regardless of what was going on, he still made sure we had everything, and I mean everything, that his kids needed.
“Bitch, you all zoned out and shit,” Nay joked.
“Huh, what? Oh, I’m sorry. Just thinking about some shit, that’s all,” I said as I managed to wipe the tears out of the corner of my eye. The pain I was felt was deep, but it was the force behind me to get more out of life.
CHAPTER TWO
Ajanay
I think when God was creating people He made sure I got an extra dosage of looks. ’Cause, baby, when I tell you I am a pretty bitch, yes, I am. My dad was Jamaican and my mom was from Trinidad, so I have that exotic look; and I was also blessed with a banging-ass body to match. The bitches I know are often intimidated by me, especially when I come around their niggas. Fact is, I don’t want their niggas. It’s their niggas who steadily pursue me. In my mind, starting with Daddy, niggas are not worth a damn thing. They’re good for a nut and a few dollars. All the other shit is definitely i
n the way.
I grew up in a volatile environment to say the least. My daddy was a womanizer who was fucking every- and anything around. I was young at the time, but I wasn’t no fool. There were times when I would see him around the neighborhood with different bitches, and these bitches had the nerve to come up to me, trying to be all nice and shit. I used to look them bitches dead in the eyes and tell them not to touch me. I was dead-ass serious, too. My mother was my world and I’d be damned if I was going to let any one of these hoes step in and try to replace my mother.
One day after school, I was walking from the store and I saw my daddy’s car parked on the side of an abandoned building. I knew it was his car, because I recited his license plate so much so I could know it was him whenever I saw his car.
I sneaked on the side, trying to surprise him, but when I lifted my head up I got the shocker of my life. My daddy was buck-ass-naked, buried deep inside of a red bone bitch. I couldn’t really see who it was. All I knew in my young mind was that I needed to grab my mama.
I threw my book bag on my back and started running to the house. My heart was beating fast as I sprinted to get to the house.
“Mama, Mama,” I yelled as I pushed the front door and ran inside.
“Child, quit all that yelling up in here.”
“Mama, I need you to come with me. I just saw Daddy with a woman and they were naked,” I managed to say in between sobs.
“Little girl, what are you talking about? Your daddy is at work.”
“Mama, no, I’m telling you. I just seen Daddy. Come with me so I can show you.”
“Hold on a second.” She disappeared into her room. A few minutes later, she returned fully dressed.
I ran out the door, with her following closely behind. Please, God, let them be there, I prayed, because if they were not there the ass whupping that was coming to me would be deadly. One thing Mama hated was when I lied, and there was no way I could prove this if they were gone.
“Look, there is his car,” I yelled in excitement.
Mama placed her hand over my mouth. “Shhhh. Stay right here,” she said as she ducked down and crept toward the car.
I didn’t listen to her, though; I crept right behind her. I watched as she peeped into the car.
She then opened the unlocked door. “What the fuck are you doing, Trell?” she yelled.
I couldn’t hear what my daddy was saying, but I imagined he was shocked that he had been caught red-handed. I saw the woman sit up, and she tried to put her shirt on. In seconds, then, all I saw was my mother raising her arm with what appeared to be a gun.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
I covered my ears and started screaming louder and louder. After about two minutes, the gunshot ceased. I was too scared to move, so I kept my head down and my eyes shut tight. Then I heard one more single gunshot. I flinched, but still kept my eyes covered.
I was frozen and my body was numb. I knew whatever had happened, it wasn’t good. My fears were confirmed when I heard police sirens coming toward where the incident happened.
“We have a child right here,” I heard a person say.
I mustered up enough courage to open my eyes. I looked around. I was looking for my mother.
“Come with me,” a police woman said to me as she led me away from the scene.
“We got bodies over here. One male and two females,” a male officer hollered into his radio.
Wait! What? Two women? What the hell do they mean? “Where is my mother? I need my mother,” I yelled. I turned around and ran back toward where Daddy’s car was at.
“Stop! Don’t go back there.” The strong officer grabbed me up. I started crying real hard because I wasn’t no fool. I knew my mama was gone.
Later that night, my grandma told me and my little brother that Mama and Daddy were dead. I felt a sharp pain hit me. Guilt rushed over me because I knew Mama was dead because of what I did. If I hadn’t run in the house and told her what I saw, she would’ve never brought the gun that she used to kill Daddy, his whore, and then herself.
“Noooooooooooooo!” I screamed out as reality hit me that my queen was gone.
My life after that was changed for the worse. The pain of losing my best friend is still unbearable at times, to the point where I want to kill myself. Sometimes I get angry at Mama because how could she leave us like that? I only wanted her to see what he was doing to her.
My grandma tries her best to show us love, but there is no love like my mama’s love. I started to rebel and act out because I was mad at the fucking world! I feel like no one understands my pain, and there is no one to replace my mama’s love.
CHAPTER THREE
Sheika
When bitches talk about shit that they’ve been through, I just sit back and laugh, ’cause until they experience the shit I’ve been through, they ain’t been through shit in my eyes. See, when I was the young age of nine years old, my mama’s boyfriend started raping me. I was happy to have dude around at first, because I never knew my biological father; so when my mother moved him in with us, I was happy to have a father figure.
The relationship between us was lovely. We spent a lot of time together playing games on my Xbox, or we would hang out at the park after school. My mother was also happy that she finally had a good man around. He worked, paid the bills, and paid attention to her child. What else could she ask for?
Two years later, while I was asleep, I felt someone touch me. I thought I was dreaming, but I quickly realized I wasn’t. I opened my eyes and saw my mother’s boyfriend on top of me.
“What are you doing? Aubrey, get off me,” I yelled and tried to push him off, but my strength was nothing compared to his big, masculine build.
“Relax! I know you want me. I see how you look at me,” his dirty ass said while he tried to kiss me.
“No, please, don’t do this,” I screamed out. I wondered why my mother was not coming to my rescue; then I remembered that she was working the night shift.
I continued crying. “Aargh,” he grunted as he busted inside of me.
He finally got up, and looked at me. I turned my head so I couldn’t look this monster in his eyes. He left the room and I thought about getting up and running out, but I was in extreme pain. I heard my room door pushed open again, and it was him coming in. God, please don’t. I can’t bear any more of this, I thought as I tried to mentally prepare myself for what was about to take place again.
“Listen, little bitch! You better not say a word to your mother or anyone else. You see this?” He pulled my face toward him. I felt something cold and hard press against my cheek. “I will kill yo’ motherfucking mother if you tell anybody ’bout what happened.”
I didn’t say a word. I just kept crying.
“Did you hear me, little bitch?” he yelled and squeezed my face.
“Yes, I heard you,” I managed to say in between cries.
“Now get yo’ ass up and clean yo’self off before yo’ mama come home.”
I didn’t move, which angered him. Slap! Slap! He slapped me twice with his open hand.
“Noooooo!” I grabbed my face and balled up my body in a fetal position. “Please, God, please take me now,” I cried out.
I listened as he continued cussing under his breath until he walked out my room, slamming my door. I reached under my pillow to grab my cell phone. I was going to call my mother to let her know what kind of monster she brought in our lives. I quickly remembered the threats that he just made against my mother. I decided not to call her.
After about an hour of crying and wishing I were dead, I finally dragged myself out of the bed. I took my time to open my door, hoping he was nowhere near. I got in the shower. I was trying to wash off any and every trace of this monster.
I was alarmed when I washed between my legs. Red blood stained my white washcloth. I started crying again, because I was sore down there and the blood frightened me more. I hurried up and washed off and got out of the tub. I was hoping my feeling would was
h down the drain with the soap, but it didn’t.
The next couple of days were hard for me, as I had to endure the sight of this bastard. He behaved like nothing happened, and my mother was clueless. Over time I learned to block the pain out; and even though this bastard would try to talk to me I would never say a word to him. My mother asked me why I was acting so cold toward him, but as much as I wanted to tell her what happened, I just couldn’t, out of fear that he might harm her.
The only thing that kept me going was the fact that I was almost out of high school and I would be moving far away.
CHAPTER FOUR
London
“Man, it’s hot as fuck out here. I’m about to go in this motherfucking house,” Ajanay said.
“That’s what I was thinking, but I swear I really don’t want to hear this bitch mouth yapping about some bullshit that I’ont feel like hearing right now,” Sheika said as she took a few more pulls of the blunt that was halfway done.
“Man, pass that shit. Let me hit it one more time before I leave,” I said to Sheika.
These two bitches have been my ace since the fifth grade, when we started hanging out. Ever since then we’ve become inseparable. Whenever you see one, you know the other two are not far behind. Blood couldn’t make us any closer, if you ask me.
“Damn, bitch, you hawking the blunt,” Nay blurted out.
I busted out laughing. I was so gone in my thoughts and just puffing away. “My bad, bitch. Y’all know a bitch is stressed out.” I passed the blunt to Nay.
Nay is the prissy one out of the three of us. That bitch swears to God she is a glamour girl and I have to agree. But, don’t get fooled, that bitch is thorough as they come. Let something pop off and she is the first one to pop off.
Sheika, on the other hand, is loud and don’t give a fuck about too much. I knew Sheika was dealing with some bullshit at home, which made her angry most of the time. We asked her what was going on with her, but she never shared it. Whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t good because she never wanted to be in the house. Most times she was over at either my house or Nay’s house.
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