Trust No Bitch

by Nene Capri

  “I’ma call you when I’m through handling business and I’m on my way,” he said.

  “Okay, I’m waiting. Hurry up, you know a bitch will start without you,” she purred.

  “Get it wet for me baby, I’ll be right there.” He disconnected the call.

  “Pick out any whip you like, I’ll be right back,” Kiam instructed his young boy.

  While JuJu browsed the cars Kiam walked inside. This was not the first time since smashing Czar that he had seen DeMarcus, but it was the first time that he had been back to the lot.

  Daphne perked right up when she saw Kiam coming. She had family that lived on Miles Road and they had all told her how he was putting it down.

  “Hi, Kiam.” she spoke, coming up to him with a wide smile on her face and a look in her eyes that said more than any words could ever convey.

  Kiam looked at her with a sneer and nodded almost imperceptibly. Bitch don’t know me.

  Daphne had on a cream-colored Michael Kors pants suit. Huge diamonds sparkled on her fingers and two carats dripped from her ears. A diamond heart-shaped pendant hung around her neck on an invisible chain.

  It don’t matter how you dress them up, Kiam wanted to tell DeMarcus, a ho was still a ho.

  Kiam didn’t give her a second thought as he proceeded back to DeMarcus’s office.

  Daphne rushed up behind. “Um, I’m sorry but DeMarcus is in a meeting with his banker,” she said hurriedly as he reached for the door knob.

  Kiam stopped, pulled his hand back, and turned to look at her. “When he’s through let him know that I’m outside,” he said in a gruff voice.

  “You can wait for him in my office if you’d like,” she quickly offered. “It has air conditioning. I know you don’t want to wait out in the hot sun.”

  Kiam caught her flirtatious tone. I’d rather burn the fuck up than sit in her little air conditioned office.

  “Be happy with what you got before you run into something you can’t handle,” he warned, then turned and walked outside.

  Daphne stared at Kiam’s back. Whew! That muthafucka turned me the fuck on. She liked her men the same way she liked a dick— hard.

  As Kiam walked out the door onto the lot Daphne promised herself that she was going to get that, one way or another.

  JuJu was with a salesman looking over a brand new white 2012 Land Rover Evogue. It was sitting on 22 inch rims whispering his name. The sticker price on the front window read $55,000. Kiam had told him to pick out whatever he liked but he didn’t want to seem greedy.

  “What’s up, Ju? You like this or what?” asked Kiam, coming up behind them.

  “Yeah, this bitch is real nice but I’m not trying to make you spend a grip. Really, I’m good with my Tahoe until I can cop this myself,” said JuJu.

  “Never mind all of that, you want this right here, it’s yours.”

  He opened the driver’s door and checked out the interior of the SUV.

  “You want to test drive it?” the sales guy asked Kiam, sensing that he carried the wallet.

  Kiam looked at JuJu, who nodded yeah. He could already picture himself profiling through the hoods in that sexy muthafucka. He knew that girls were gonna be trying to fuck the grille, but he wasn’t going to allow pussy to cause him to lose focus like Gator had.

  While JuJu and the salesman took the Land Rover for a cruise, Kiam walked over to a black murdered out 2012 Cadillac Escalade that he had noticed. The sun bounced off the pearl paint, glistening up into his face. He used a hand to shield his eyes from the glare as he walked around the vehicle, checking it out.

  Satisfied that the truck was built to represent a man like himself, Kiam patted the hood. “This me right here,” he said, not concerned with the sticker price.

  DeMarcus emerge from inside. He was wearing a blue suit and canary yellow tie, walking alongside of an older man. They shook hands and the man walked to his car. When DeMarcus noticed Kiam standing there a look of apprehension shadowed his face.

  DeMarcus retreated to his office with Kiam right behind him. The first thing Kiam noticed was that DeMarcus had replaced the blood soaked carpet.

  The door banged when Kiam closed it causing DeMarcus to slightly jump.

  “What’s up, bruh?” Kiam said. “I must make you nervous?” DeMarcus didn’t respond.

  Kiam walked around the desk and took a seat behind it, leaning back in the chair and propped his feet up on the desk.

  “Really, is all of that necessary?” asked DeMarcus.

  “Is breathing necessary?”

  DeMarcus took in a mouth full of air in an attempt to remain as calm as possible.

  “This is how this shit is going down. I’ma talk, you’re gonna listen,” Kiam made it known. “First, you have a white Land Rover Evoque and a black Escalade out on the lot. I want both of them, draw the paperwork up.”

  “How you paying for them?” asked DeMarcus suspiciously.

  “I’m not. Those two are on the house.”

  “Man, that’s over a hundred grand!” protested DeMarcus as he slouched down on a couch.

  Kiam stared at him with a coldness that sent a chill up his body. “Nigga, shut the fuck up and get to working on the titles.” “Man, you’re killing me,” complained DeMarcus.

  “Be careful what you ask for. Fuck around and speak your own death into existence.” Kiam smiled sinisterly.

  DeMarcus sighed with resignation as he got off the couch and walked behind the desk and stood waiting for Kiam to relinquish his chair.

  Kiam saw the defeat in DeMarcus’ eyes. He didn’t pity him, he felt the muthafucka owed him more than that. He rose from the chair and propped himself up on the edge of the desk while DeMarcus got on the computer.

  “What else besides the trucks?” he asked in a clipped tone.

  “Nothing else from the lot, but like I told you the other day, I’m your connect now. I expect you to start buying your work from my young boy JuJu. You’ll meet him in a minute.” Kiam looked down at him. His press game left DeMarcus little room to breathe.

  DeMarcus looked up from the computer. “Man, I already gave you half of my corners and I didn’t even trip it. You felt I owed you that and I respected how you felt.”

  Kiam shot up off the desk and leaned down into DeMarcus’ face. “Nigga, you didn’t respect nothin’. You feared this shit, that’s what made you surrender those corners. And you were wise to do so because I’m not fucking around.”

  Kiam grabbed ahold of DeMarcus’s collar and held it with a firm hand. “You’re buying ten whole ones a week at nineteen-five apiece. If that steps on your connect’s toes, fuck him, tell him to come see me. My blood pump boss not bitch.” He released DeMarcus’ collar then moved back to his seated position.

  DeMarcus shook his head but said nothing. This was going to be a huge loss he’d have to eat, but he saw no other way to continue living. The vision of how Kiam had done Czar was still fresh in his mind. He knew Kiam’s tool didn’t discriminate. The question was, what was his connect going to say when he told him that he had found another supplier?

  Chapter 22

  Playing Both Sides

  Daphne pulled her ear away from the door just in time. She heard the door open, then the sound of footsteps behind her as she made her escape. She hurried back to her office and used her cell phone to place a call

  “Yeah? What you want? I’m busy,” he said in a deep bear-like voice that always seemed to make her nervous.

  “Um, I need to see you,” she whispered, fidgeting with the ring on her thumb.

  “For what?”

  “It’s about DeMarcus, and it’s very important,” she said, peeking out her office door to make sure he wasn’t walking up on her.

  “Okay, meet me at the house on Lakeview. Be there in a half hour, I don’t have time to waste so be on time. I got a lot of shit going on today.” He hung up.

  Daphne took the phone from her ear and stared at the blank screen. “Damn, can a bitch get a goodbye
?” she said under her breath. “Heartless ass black bastard.”

  She couldn’t wait for the day she reshuffled the cards and dealt herself the better hand. Then, that muthafucka was gonna pay for all the shit that he had ever done to her.

  She went to DeMarcus’ office and told him that she had a doctor’s appointment. He was seated behind his desk looking like somebody had just violated his asshole and he was trying to decide whether or not he was still a man. We might as well switch genitals, she said to herself, leaning down to kiss him goodbye.

  Forty-five minutes later, she was getting carpet burns. Wolfman grabbed the back of her head and made her gag. He looked over at his man, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of the living smoking a blunt and playing a video game.

  “Nitti, you see how this bitch swallows the whole dick? Nigga, you ain’t never had a ho with head like hers,” he bragged.

  “The bitch tight with her shit, huh?” replied Frank Nitti, never taking his eyes off the Xbox. He didn’t wanna look at no other man’s wood.

  “Fuck yeah. Nigga, I done had my dick sucked in all fifty states. Nah, make that fifty-two, cause an Eskimo bitch sucked it in Alaska and a Hawaiian ho brained me in Maui. I’m telling you,

  ain’t nan sucked it better than this bitch right here.” Frank Nitti laughed.

  “You want her to bless you after she gets done with me?” offered Wolfman, closing his eyes as Daphne began working her throat muscles on his long, thick pole.

  “Nah, I’m good,” Nitti declined.

  Wolfman’s ass rose up off the couch, Daphne was doing her thing. “Yeah, make me bust all down your muthafuckin’ throat,” he growled.

  “Come on, then. Gimme that nut,” she said, as she sucked and stroked him simultaneously.

  Wolfman forced himself deeper down her throat and howled as he erupted inside of her mouth. He pulled out before he emptied his nut and shot the rest on her face. “Bitch, you the best,” he said, slapping his dick against her forehead.

  “Umm,” she smiled, licking her lips.

  While Wolfman fixed his clothes she went upstairs to the bathroom and brushed her teeth and gargled. Inside the bathroom Daphne looked in the mirror and fought back the tears. He always made her feel like a two dollar ho and she hated him for that. At one time she had loved him with all her heart, and he had seemed to love her just as much until she made the biggest mistake of her life. After that she was nothing to him.

  Daphne didn’t want to think about that right now. She blinked back her tears, took a deep breath, and thought with a coldheartedness that matched his. Get your game plan together first, she reminded herself. Let him laugh now and make him cry later.

  When she returned a few minutes later Wolfman was seated on the couch stroking his thick and unkempt full beard. Now he was all business.

  “What’s up with your boy?” he got straight to the point.

  He listened as she recounted everything that she had heard. When she was done, he looked at Frank Nitti and asked, “You ever heard of this nigga Kiam?”

  Nitti smiled. “Yeah, I know him well. We almost bumped heads years ago before he went to the feds. He used to be a ski mask kid back then, and he was ferocious with that hammer.”

  “You sound like you ready to bend over and let him fuck you,” snorted Wolfman.

  Frank Nitti wasn’t soft. Even though Wolfman fed him, he didn’t hesitate to shoot him a cold stare. “I’m just saying, nigga,” replied Wolfman softening his tone.

  Nitti let it ride. He thought for a moment before adding, “I been hearing Kiam’s name a lot lately, but I thought it was a different nigga because I had never known him to fuck with the work like that. Plus I thought he was still on lock.”

  “Well, now you know he’s not. And he’s out here fucking with my mula.” Wolfman cracked his knuckles.

  “They say he fucks with that bitch Lissha and ‘em. They’re dropping work called Schizophrenic all over the city. I think that’s why our profits have slowed down.”

  “What happened to Gator? I thought he ran that crew?” asked Wolfman.

  “I don’t know. I guess they’re under new management. Kiam has that whole clique turned the fuck up. Damn, I should have known it was him. We might have to shut them down before they get too big. You want me to send some goons at him?”

  Wolfman didn’t answer right away. When he did, he said, “Nah, let’s see what’s really up with him first.”

  Frank Nitti set the game control down and looked at his boss man. “I already know what’s up with him, that nigga a killah. He probably soaked up game in the pen and now his hustle match his gangsta. Let’s hit him before he gets too big.”

  Wolfman shook his head no, he was thinking of a way to bring Kiam into the fold and make his team stronger. He looked at Daphne. “You met the nigga, can you put the pussy on him and reel him in?”

  “I doubt it. The nigga is a boss,” she replied. “But I can try.”

  “I don’t need you to try, I need you to make it happen.” Wolfman pulled out a wrinkled hundred-dollar bill and tossed it at Daphne’s feet. “Step your game up. I want Kiam.”

  Letting the money remain where it lay, Daphne stepped toward the door with a purpose, but it wasn’t exactly the one Wolfman had set for her.

  As soon as she was out the door, Wolfman said to Nitti, “We’re gonna have to cancel that bitch after this, I can see the doublecross in her eyes.”

  Chapter 23

  Let Me Go

  Lissha was emotionally worn out after her visit with Big Zo. She had gone home and locked herself up in the house for days as a result. As she moved from one room to the next she tried to talk herself into a good mood. She stood in her kitchen door staring at the sink full of dishes and felt defeated.

  “This don’t make no fucking sense. Bitch, you live alone and got dishes pilling up,” she chastised herself as she walked over to the sink, put on her pink rubber gloves, and turned on the hot water.

  Once she got started, it was on. She cleaned her kitchen, pulled open her curtains and blinds and went to work sweeping, mopping, dusting and changing her linen. The bathroom was her last task, she cleaned it from front to back and put up a fresh shower curtain then she hopped into the shower.

  When she emerged from the bathroom, she oiled up, threw on some sweat pants and a t-shirt and checked her messages. There were several calls from Kiam which she wasn’t planning on returning. She knew if anything went wrong he knew what to do and, if not, he would surely bring his inconveniencing ass right to her door. She had come to the conclusion that she was going to back way up off him.

  She flipped through her contacts and hit Bay. “Hey momma what’s good?” Lissha said into the phone.

  “Ain’t shit. I’m getting my nails done. What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing really. I need to get out of this house. Where’s Donella and Treebie?”

  “Donella is on her way to pick me up. I don’t know where

  Treebie ass at. But we about to go out for lunch.”

  “A’ight, come scoop me up on the way.”

  “Okay. See you in a minute. And bitch be ready.”

  Whatever. Bye.”

  Lissha disconnected the call and hit Treebie’s phone twice, back to back, but got no answer. “Where this bitch at?” she said aloud, placing her phone on the dresser. Treebie never missed calls so that shit had Lissha wondering.

  She pondered for a minute then headed to her closet to change clothes.

  Treebie sat on the plane playing back in her head the conversation that she had with Wa’leek.

  “You need to come see me.” He was straight to the point.

  “I got too much going on right now.”

  “We ain’t having a conversation about this shit. Get on the flight, see you when you get here,” Wa’leek said into the phone then hung up.

  It had been two months since she’d seen him and she knew if she didn’t make the trip that nigga would find her an
d act a fucking fool. When she landed at Newark International airport her stomach began to ache.

  She walked briskly through the airport to baggage claim, grabbed her small Gucci duffle then headed for the exit. As soon as she stepped out the door she saw him standing there looking fine as hell, clean from head to toe. He was mobbing in jeans, a pair of icy white sneakers, bright white V-neck t-shirt, and he was clean cut with a mean look on his high yellow face.

  “That’s all you got?” he asked, reaching in and taking her bag.

  “No, I got some more shit, they gonna bring it to the car,” said Treebie sarcastically as she headed for the passenger side of the car.

  “Watch your mouth, before you get fucked up.” Wa’leek smacked her ass on the way past.

  That shit feel good don’t it?” She said as she ducked her head and slid inside the car.

  Wa’leek shot her a quick smile, popped the trunk and tossed the bag in the back.

  When he got in the driver’s seat, Treebie’s eyes roamed all over his body, he had added several more designs and color to his sleeve tattoo. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and shot her that hard stare.

  “Why you eyeing me like that?” he asked, looking at her through his low gray eyes.

  “Ain’t nobody looking at you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Stop shooting a nigga all that heat and let me taste them lips.”

  Treebie took a deep breath then turned and leaned toward him. She pulled him to her by the back of the head and kissed him deep.

  His soft, juicy lips pulled her in. She turned her head allowing him to slip his tongue damn near down her throat. Their lips remained locked until a car horn blared behind them.

  “Damn,” Wa’leek said, ignoring the car behind them, as he stared at her breast sitting up in her shirt. “You done fucked around

  and made my soldier salute. You know what that mean?” “No, I do not,” she responded, sitting back in her seat.

  “Don’t worry, you will,” he said as he pulled off.

  When they got to his West Orange home Treebie was pleasantly surprised. He had redecorated with a very tasteful array of reds, blacks and whites. The brown throw rug that she hated had been replaced with a thick, black wall to wall carpet that felt like fur. She eyed the 84’ Plasma mounted to the wall and the high-tech stereo equipment in a glass case in the corner.