Loving a Colombian Cartel Thug

by K'Aliyah Knight

  Trinidad hands me a Bath and Body Works gift bag. “Just some aromatherapy and stuff…”

  “Okay, thanks.” I try to smile, but her friendship has me pissed. I had called Rockwell bitch ass for a little bit of love and a few clothing but see where that got me. It ain’t supposed to be this chick, my oldest homegirl should be coming through right now.

  “If you ever need anything, you know where I live. Come by and we can talk. Maybe this evening we can get together–after your mom goes to sleep– and just chill…”

  “Idiota!” Moms shakes her head from the other side of the door.

  I almost jump while closing the door. I was looking through the goody bag. Damn, I’m shocked. My moms stood right there listening? This is some back in the day type of bullshit. Being a Columbiana means tough love and overbearing. But did this bitch just listen to our entire convo? “Man moms, I'm 23 years old–”

  “You’re still a dumb kid, Blu–”

  “You don't even trust me! All I wanna do is hang out with Trinidad tonight. Damn. She ain't doing nothing!”

  My sister Lakitha takes flight, coming into the living room. “Blu, calm down. You know that girl is up to no good. You said you wanna do better on our ride home from Paco’s a few hours ago. Would hanging out with one of Lorenzo’s goons be in your best interest? We should tell Lorenzo that this woman has dropped by–”

  “Y'all ain't looking out for me. Think I just wanna smoke and fuck and shit! I know what you bitches think.” They both grab me. Toi too and push me into the bedroom and locked the door. That's what's up. They think they can control me.

  So, I look through my closet. Pull out some sweats and put on a thermal. And sit and wait. I’m out the house by 11 pm, when all the lames have fallen asleep. I reach down from the tree right outside of my room and climb out. Thirty minutes later, I have wandered down the street. The first raindrop plops on my forehead and then the rain starts pouring down.

  Dang! I don’t feel like being outside in the rain. Don’t feel like kicking it with Trinidad no matter how nice she is because it reminds me of how my so called friends ain’t shit. Lorenzo gon’ trip with me banging on momma and leaving the house. Popeye in cahoots with moms I'm sure of it. So I dial that one nigga that will come no matter what. Only thing? This nigga always wants the world....

  “Black?”

  “Who this bitch? Gyal, whatchu doing ringing me up in the middle of the night?”

  He takes flight through the receiver, so I hurry up and say, “It’s Blu.”

  “My lil’ Blu pit?” I can hear the evil smile in his voice.

  Man, I hate when he compares me to a damn dog! But my body shudders to the chill so I add, “Yeah.”

  “Thought you was cool on ya boy...”

  “Can I spend the night?”

  “Whatchu gon’ do ya boy?” he asks as usual in that nasty ass voice of his.

  I’m hiding under the bus shelter when Black pulls up. The window rolls down, chronic comes wafting out, and he snatches the blunt from his mouth. “Gyal come on witchu, get in the muthafuckin’ car!” He says some shit in Jamaican under his voice as I step off the curb. The rain is beating straight through my thermal, and it’s so cold.

  Soon as I get in, heat is coming from the air conditioner. I lean back on the heated leather seat, ready to take off these cold, wet clothes.

  “Blu,” Black’s hand goes to my chin. And he makes his request.

  My face snaps back and I look at him sideways. What kinda demonic, freaky shit does this muthafucka want me to do? I snap, “What–”

  His fist goes straight to my mouth. “Fuck you talking back for, Blu? Huh?” He keeps on punching me even though I try and get a few licks in.

  ROCKWELL

  “Trick you lost ya mind?” Elisha wipes her brow as we all paint the living room. “It's damn near two am!”

  “We just got one more room to do. Then the paint will dry as we sleep and we’ll be eating good tomorrow evening.”

  “Nah girl. I wanted to eat good tonight till you dragged us all to those stores.”

  “What room you wanna do now, boo?” Lorenzo asks, knowing this ain’t going in his favor either way.

  I smile. “The den.”

  The guys laugh.

  I look at them. Lorenzo, Chuey, Nelly, Sean. My main niggas are here. Nacho snuck out soon as we came back and I started handing out the paintbrushes. Junior fell asleep after we did his room.

  “Bae, I want to paint the den. Shouldn't take too long.” When all these niggas get to talking shit, I bark, “Buck the fuck up!”

  “Nah, we only got this pink shit left,” Sean says. “Big cuzzo ain't gon’ have the den pink.”

  “Actually, yes,” I reply with a chuckle. They follow as I start for the den. There ain't much on the wall but the huge TV. “Y'all just take that down real quick.”

  “Girl go to sleep. You working in overdrive.” Elisha gives me a hug and grabs her keys from the coffee table.

  “Aye Nelly, walk my girl out.” I wink. He’s been looking at her booty all night long. I hope he’s not cool with Nacho, but I need my bestie with somebody–anybody else.

  Elisha cuts her eyes at me as they head out, but I know that she knows that Nelly is an 8 to Nacho’s 3 at least! And it does take dude a minute to come back inside. When he does I still haven't convinced Lorenzo to let me paint the wall.

  “Why?” Lorenzo sits on the couch, leans back and chugs at a bottle of beer.

  “Because….” If I make this man cave a little feminine, Trinidad will get her life! “Aw, Renz please.”

  “Nah, girl, I'm good.”

  Chapter 45

  LORENZO

  It’s 4 am. Me and my goons have painted the walls. Shit, I would have told Rockwell that this ain’t even my main home but the thought of her wanting to repaint my mansion in Miami or my loft in New York. That’s a negative. “You too damn spoiled, kid.”

  “So?” she yawns.

  “Go to bed, Rocky,” I tell her, as Chuey and I start on the last wall.

  “No,” she readjusts her head on the couch pillow. She starts mumbling how pretty the pink looks and yawns. “Bae, I’ma give you that back rub soon as you done, Lorenzo.”

  Rocky continues to talk in her sleep, with her paranoid ass, “Besides, y’all might paint it back when I go upstairs.”

  “Not after all this damn work,” Chuey says. “This den is going to be pink until Lorenzo moves, believe that.” He tosses the paintbrush in the bucket and heads for the stairs.

  I shake my head, finishing it myself. He’s cranky and Rockwell keeps nodding off. And I know without a doubt that her little fingers won’t be rubbing my back no time soon. The shit I will do for this girl.

  ~~~

  Soon as I get my girl up the stairs, somebody comes banging on the door. Now Rockwell’s wide-awake again. I got shit to do. But the way this unexpected visitor banging, they wanna get shot the fuck up. Pulling out my burner, I look through the peephole. Then snatch the door open. “Damn Blu, you lost ya fuckin mind!”

  I can’t see her face too well, but she always has on that raggedy ass hoodie and her hair is all in her face.

  “Uh, is Trini–”

  I yank her stanky ass up. She smells just like piss. “Who supplying you?”

  “Nobody.” She shivers in her wet clothing. “I ain't had nothing. Promise.”

  “You lying!”

  “Blu!” Rockwell comes running down the stairs. Holding her so close. Shit, you gotta be blood to get that close to her foul ass. Smelling just like piss!

  “Lemme go!” Blu pushes her.

  “Come in honey. Come in,” Rockwell pleads.

  When Blu keeps actin’ a fool, I say, “Nah, let that crackhead go. She doesn't need to be under the same roof as Junior.”

  “Lorenzo. This is your sister. It just rained!” She tries as Blu starts cussing at both of us and backs up out of the house. But Rockwell still won’t shut the fuck up. “Com
e in Blu so we can talk.”

  “Bitch, you ain’t even answer my voicemail yesterday! All you want to do is send me away so you can fuck my brotha’. Yeah, send me to rehab. I ain't going.”

  “Blu, what call…?” Rockwell asks. She’s stunned for a minute as my sister starts running through the lawn. “Blu, that ain’t true!”

  Rockwell starts out after her, but I snatch her up by the waist. She's crying in my chest murmuring about how much she loves my little sister. “Renz, we gotta go after her. She ain't thinking right now.”

  “Nah. When she wants help, she knows where to come. Let's go to bed.”

  Rocky puts a hand on her hip and says, “Bae, let’s just go for a quick drive, she has to be heading toward Pico Avenue–”

  “Get to sleep. What about the party you want later on?”

  “I don’t want a party, Lorenzo! We have to find Blu.”

  “Oh well. Too late. Now.”

  “Lorenzo it ain't too late. I think we need to go look for your sister. Let's see if Chuey is still up.”

  “Hell, nah. We ain’t starting no search party for a dumb fuck that doesn’t want to be found.”

  “But–”

  I give her that look.

  She starts up the stairs. “Soon as everybody goes home tomorrow. We gotta find her. Renz, nigga promise me, okay?”

  I know Blu like the back of my own hand. If she wants help, she will get it. But Rockwell won’t be satisfied until we do everything under the sun to save her.

  Chapter 46

  BLU

  First, I decided to sleep in the park, but some time ago, Parks and Rec had moved the shelter from over the picnic tables. So, they are all wet. Hair matted to my face, and piss smelling clothes sticking to my skin, I’m at my last resort. I go home… It’s almost five am, so I knock softly then start to just lie down on the welcome mat when the door opens.

  Popeye stands there in pajamas, he shakes his head and comes and scoops me up. I’m so cold that his body heat is everything to me, even more so than my embarrassment.

  He takes me into the bedroom, gives me a towel and I take a scalding shower. When I get out, and put on some of his sweats and undershirt, I can smell food in the kitchen. I start down the hallway as the coffee maker is sputtering.

  Popeye’s standing at the stove, and cooking a fried egg. He does a double take when seeing me. “What the fuck happened to your eye?”

  “That nigga Black.” Since he’s looking at 0me foul, I decide to tell him something that would hurt. “The same dude I was with when you came home with Phillip that one time.”

  “Damn ma. You must be in love with that nigga.”

  “Nah, I ain't ever loved him. Only loved two in my life you know!”

  “Me and Junior?” Popeye chuckles, not even the least bit convinced.

  “And crack! So I called him after moms and I fought. Didn’t want to but it started to rain. He came to get me, and sometimes he just goes off for no reason. So he punched me dead in the eye. When I fought back, he hit me harder… Kicked me out the car,” I point to my ribs, “He literally, took his Tims to me. And kicked me out the fucking car. I cracked my head, and like one of those dumb bitches in a movie, had a hard time getting up. He pissed on me. I kept fighting because that’s what I do! Don't need you Popeye. Thanks for the shower. The sun is coming up. And Phillip and Granny don’t need to see me.”

  “Ma. Sit yo’ ass down! You ain't leaving.”

  “Nah, you ain’t finna call Rita!” I shout.

  Popeye shakes his head, asking, “Did anybody say anything about ya moms?”

  “Nah. Because she would think I was on that shit again. Just like you did when I got here. Just like Lorenzo and that bitch he’s fucking!” This shit got me wanting to cry. Even when I was living on the street and people gave me funny looks, I didn’t give two shits. “It's just,” my voice comes down some, “I know I shouldn’t have called him, but I’ve lived in the streets for a long time. When it's too hot or too cold, I ain't too proud to beg. And that nigga usually is nice. Only if I do some shit. Sometimes…” my voice becomes an embarrassed whisper, “he would want me to do some extra shit, man. Lakitha said I’m better than that…”

  “A’ight, Blu. And you don't need to beg to always have a place at Granny house.”

  “I’ma be out in a few hours. Lemme just get a lil’ sleep. I’ll sneak out back if Granny or Phillip Junior is up, I promise.”

  “So, who this nigga you said put hands on you?”

  “Nobody.”

  Popeye stops cooking and sits across from me. “Girl speak!”

  “I done told you, Black!”

  “You said Black?”

  “Yeah, nigga! Black, Black, Black! Understand?” I ask as Popeye continues to look at my funny.

  “Nacho? Is it that nigga they call Nacho and he tells some broads that his name is Black?”

  “The fuck if I know.”

  “Man, Blu,” he shouts at me, “Jamaican accent? Does that nigga got dreads?”

  “Yeah…”

  Popeye rubs his chin and he's looking angrier than I've seen in a while.

  Chapter 47

  LORENZO

  Soon as my girl got all snugly in my arms, I hear my phone ring. If it’s Trinidad calling again, that bitch getting burned. Always kept her around because she can get active as fuck when it’s time to get down. But Trini know she ain’t never been the only one. Looking at the screen, I’m surprised to see one of my oldest homie’s number.

  “Sup my nig?” I yawn.

  Popeye says, “Aye, Blu is here.”

  “Good. If you gotta get the belt out and whoop some act right into her, then that works for me. Just don't put hands on her.” I sit up in bed and think to wake up Rocky but she's so peaceful.

  “Nah, man I ain't ever doing no shit like that.”

  “She’s hardheaded,” I reply, sounding just like my moms. We all have that same hard, tough love. After telling a nigga so many times not to do this or that, we’re done. That’s how moms was with me when she knew I went back to the cartel. That’s why I’ve been cool on Blu these days, because my sister knows she fucked up. “Nigga, you seen me take my belt off and whoop her a few times since Blu think she was grown. Besides, I trust you have her best interest in hand.”

  “I do. But look like you got a nigga in ya crew need to be checked.”

  “Really tho’. You used to be my right hand. Can you handle that for ya boy?” I start to lie back down. If Popeye wanna come back to the team, I’m all for it.

  “Believe that. But lemme bring you up to speed, Lorenzo.”

  Before I can yawn, Popeye brings up Nacho. He had once been considered after Popeye’s drive by to be the best on my crew, till Santiago wanted Chuey and Sean to come handle it. My Tio Santi is always about keeping it in the fam. Lately, Nacho’s been showing his ass. Now Popeye’s words brings fire to my veins.

  This shit is all bad for Nacho.

  “Popeye buck the fuck up then. Gimme ten.” I hang up and call around till I get Nacho’s location. He’s at one of my trap houses, good. They said he’d gotten good and drunk last night, and the trick he was with just texted that he’s still laying in their fuck juices. So I tell her to just go back to sleep for a while.

  ~~~

  Soon as we arrive, the sun is damn near coming up. I rub the tiredness off my face, fuck that I’m instantly awake as I step into my house on Hells Drive.

  I give the sexy, black booty that is on top of him a little smack. Shawty wakes up quietly; she knows the drill. She tiptoes toward her clothes and is out the room quickly. I take a seat on a chair facing the edge of the bed. Nelly, Chuey, Sean, and ten other dudes pump their shotguns.

  This sound will wake up any nigga in a ten-mile radius.

  Nacho’s eyes pop open. His crusty naked ass turns over and he sits up.

  At my raised hand, the guns go down.

  “So Chuey was it your bitch that said she work for Roc
kwell, and Rockwell don’t like this nigga?”

  “Yup.”

  “Gets me wondering. Why wouldn't my woman like a dude? She be cool–as I want her to be–with all my homies, right?”

  “Yup,” a few of them say.

  Damn, I had a little convo with this muthafucka just yesterday evening in my backyard when he had dropped of Elisha. I let his ass know that Rocky wasn’t feeling dude. She ain’t told me shit, but went back and told Paula who told Chuey. I’m glad I didn’t light up on this muthafucka before knowing everything.

  “Don’t bust a move my nigga,” I tell Nacho as his eyes dart right to left. “Either way you go about it, the shit ain’t gon’ be easy for you.”

  “Sup, Lorenzo?” He tries, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  “Lemme bring you up to speed. Half an hour ago, your little brother died quickly, está muerto, mi amigo.” I rub my hands together.

  “You mutha–”

  I’m out the chair in lightning speed, and pimp slap this nigga right across the mouth. A tooth and a spray of blood go flying from his lips.

  “So ya brother told me…his last breath was snitching. Su hermano said that you, mi amigo, aren’t happy because Chuey was my second. Since you, were here before I put on my lil’ cuzzo. You thought you should be the big kahuna. Do you not get the same cut?” I shrug. “Did you not feel as equal? You’ve shared my food, the bitches I don’t give a fuck about, I offer to you. Did you not have enough?”

  This nigga too angry to speak. Man, I slap dude again. Don’t even want to hear what he got to say.

  “See bitches like you don’t have balls.” I pull the knife from my belt buckle. “You consort to lies and conniving. Now you my little bitch, huh?”

  “Lorenzo, don’t fuck–”

  “Fuck you? Nah, no homo, mi amigo. My old friend, Marcel, now he would love to stick this knife in your asshole, twist it real good.” I smile. “Damn, I remember that shit so well. Shit and blood my amigo, it’s not a good look, and I like this knife too much. Gift from mi Tio Santiago, you see.”