She Fell in love with a Thug: Deuce & Italy

by Anjela Day

  Deuce &Italy

  Chapter 1

  Deuce

  Mama's tryna save me

  But she don't know I'm tryna save her

  Man, them niggas tried to play me

  Man, 'til I got this paper

  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you ( French Montana)

  I have always lived in the shadows; the darkness of someone else light! However, I was born to shine. I could feel it in my blood. Despite life's hurdle, I had to jump to get to the top. I was determined that, no matter what my name was; I would be second to no man, not even my father.

  I sighed at the sound of my mother crying. I could hear her three doors down. It wasn’t that she was loud; it was just that my mom did it so often lately that I could feel it in my soul. Sitting up, I ran my hands through my hair , and slipped on a second pair of basketball shorts.

  Quietly, I crept down to my mother’s bedroom. I stood in her door and watched as she tortured herself. She was looking at a picture of my father. He had been locked up since I was about ten years old. From my knowledge, he had five more years left. I know that had to be hell on my mother to love a man so much that she was willing to wait ten years for him to get out. Just as I was about to close her door, I heard her whisper to the picture that she stared at so heavily.

  “Carri, now what?” she questioned my father’s photo like she really was going to get an answer.

  “Hey, ma, you ok?” I asked as I stepped into her bedroom. She jumped and slid the picture to the other side of the bed and wiped her eyes. I walked over to my mother’s bed and sat beside her. Instantly, I caught a glimpse of tons of paper all marked ‘past due. I picked one of the papers up, and read just a bit before my mom snatched it from my hands.

  “Ma’, we gone lose our house?” I asked as I looked into her eyes.

  “No, Sacario!” she shouted calling me by my giving name, so I knew she was nervous. I ran my fingers through my mother’s long jet black hair and in that second I knew I had to step out of my father’s shadow and into his shoes.

  “You miss him ma’?” I asked a question I knew the answer to, but I just wanted my mom not to stress about bills.

  “Sometimes, but I’m ok baby, I promise,” she said and kissed my forehead. She then stood and walked into her bathroom. I heard the door close, and not even seconds later my mother was sobbing again. I took it in knowing that I couldn’t fix my mom’s heart, but then I also knew I would never let someone have me so open that I felt less than a person.

  ***

  The following day, I woke up with nothing but money on my mind. I had no idea how, but I knew that I couldn’t let my mom loose a house that she had worked so hard to get. My first thought was to call my Uncle Lee and Dinero, but my mom hadn’t really spoken with them since pops got locked up and bringing grief to her at this time would not be a good look.

  I got my game plan in my head and just knew it would just take a little cho to set it in action. I tiptoed down the stairs, hoping to be out before my mom even woke up. Once I made it to the bottom, I stopped dead in my tracks only to see my mother in the living room with a man I had never seen before in my life.

  He ran his hands through her hair, and then kissed her forehead. I had to do a double take, watching as this man hugged my mom. Just yesterday, she was crying over my pops now here she was in the arms of another nigga. Wow, I guess you can’t trust a female.

  I dusted myself off and just headed out. I still had agenda and couldn’t let that get me off track. When I stepped, there was a money green Jag with gold flakes parked right in front of me. The car was overly flashy , and I had to shake my head. It was in that second that I knew who ol e ’ boy was.

  His name was Smooth Marks, a known pimp from Flint. He was infamous for his money green cars and outrageous, loud attire. A part of my soul instantly died. The thought of my mom tricking to give me and my sister a better life sickened me.

  Taking in what I just saw, I dipped to my nigga Jay’s house to holla at his pops. Money was a cool nigga. He was about his paper, and I respected that.

  “What up little Killa!” he said the moment I made it to his house. I sat down at the kitchen table right across from where he was sitting.

  “What up Money!”

  “What can I do for you kid?” he asked as he sat back in his chair and rubbed his beard as if he knew the question before I asked. A part of me didn't want to put my family business in the street. I definitely didn't want to tell the man that despised my pops more than fire hated water. I sighed and took in my surroundings.

  “It’s like this Money. I’m a grown man—”

  “At 15, you’re grown?”

  “Last I checked ; , age has nothing to do with duties, and I have a lot of responsibilities.”

  He nodded his head, got up from his seat, and walked to the counter to pour two glasses of Hennessey. He placed a glass in front of me and watched me closely. I had never drunk anything stronger than beer, but if this is what he needed to see so I lifted the cup and downed the bitter drink. I suppressed the urge to show emotion as the hot acid like liquid hit my belly. I slammed the glass on the table and looked Money in his eye.

  “Look Boss, I know you and my pops don't see eye to eye, but I ain’t him, though, his name carry weight! That I got. I’m asking for a chance. Front me 2 kilos and I can flip it.”

  He smirked, downed his glass, and then poured us both another. I pushed the glass away and looked Money in his eyes.

  “Well.” He sucked his teeth and then leaned back in his seat.

  “Two kilos? Only a fool would give a 15 year old almost 100 grand in work.”

  “Then front me anything! I’ll double it!”

  “A 8 ball,” he said like I was some rookie.

  I looked at Money like he was crazy; an 8 ball was chump change. I sucked my teeth, nodded my head knowing this was just a test. I guess he was gonna see if I was really about what I said because Money made the call and told me where to meet his nigga, Hakeem.

  Within hours, I was calling Hakeem for my second re-up. Even Money was impressed and had to show me a bit of respect. He watched me closely, but it wasn’t long before I was his number three nigga.

  I started running two of his houses and bringing in thirty grand a week. I thought that maybe I could have been my mother’s hero, but I guess hooking up with that nigga, Smooth Marks, paid off. She was back to the woman I knew.

  I didn't hear her cry as much at night; not to say she didn’t cry. I could tell she was proud because she was always giving my sister and me cash. I didn't need it, but I wouldn’t dare tell her. I didn’t want my mother to know I was hitting the block. I could tell she feared I would be a carbon copy of my father and truth was, I wanted nothing more than to make him proud.

  Within a year, the nigga Money had come to rely on me. I was skipping school to make cash, and the more cash I made, it seemed the bigger Money’s cut became. He would always say that the price of coke had gone up. Telling me that it was 55 sometimes 65 for a kilo.

  Again I knew better, poppa didn’t raise a fool, but who was I to argue or debate? I had to take what I could get or step out the game. Let’s face it, the money was too good, the hoes were all on my dick, and I loved the game.

  After working countless hours, I needed a break from the block and decided to stop by Jay’s school. I wanted to show off my new whip. It was a 1988 SS sitting on 22’s with candy paint and butterfly doors; sickest shit any nigga had seen in the hood. I leaned against it with my arms crossed over my chest feeling proud as fuck! Loved watching niggas look at me with envy in their eyes.

  “What up bro?” Jay
greeted as he leaned on the car beside me.

  “Shit needed a day off,” I told him.

  “Dis you?” Jay asked.

  I turned my face off, surprised he would ask something so fuckin dumb.

  “Yep, bought it from Cool Mike”

  “The weed head?” he questioned with an arch in his brow; clearly he disapproved. I smirked and focused on a few hoes that walked by. I set my eyes on a vampire white chick. She had long jet-black hair and pink lips. Her body was slender, but what she lacked in weight, her ass made up for it. Baby girl had an onion on her.

  “Nigga, she a vampire!” I told Jay as I pointed at little momma.

  “She's no virgin my nigga. I see her talking to all these niggas.”

  “Nigga, she a virgin I bet you a rack!”

  “Nigga, how you gon’ find out?” he asked and looked me over with a smirk on his face.

  “I’m gone pop her cherry and you gone owe me two stacks, or three when I do it in a week.” I winked at Jay and walked over to ol’ girl and put my hands on her hips. She stopped in her tracks and rolled her eyes like she was pissed.

  “What time yo’ last class?” I asked and leaned down into her ear, making sure my chain dangled over her breast. She needed to know she was fuckin with a boss nigga. She didn't answer nor did she move my hand. I slid my hand under her shirt and rubbed her stomach, her skin was soft like silk, and she smelt fresh like baby powder.

  “You see that SS right there?” I pointed to my ride.

  She looked over and rolled her eyes again.

  “Be there by 3: 30 or we gone have a problem.”

  I slid my tongue down her neck, and she shivered. I couldn’t help but laugh as I pulled away and watched her walk into the building like she was mad. I didn't know why that shit was sexy to me, but the first thought that came to me was how I was gone break that ass in.

  I hopped in my car and hit the stash house. I wanted to be able to stunt when I saw ol’ girl. I realized I didn't even ask her name. After collecting my bread, I hit the mall, got fly and was outside the school by 3:29.

  I stood by the doors and watched my Rolex as it said 3:35. Ol girl was starting to piss me off, and I didn't know why. She was just a little rat, but damn if I didn't want to prove to Jay that I was that nigga. I stepped back and watched as little momma walked out the school. I grabbed her up by her book bag and pulled her in my space.

  “What took you so long?” I asked her.

  She pulled away and I pulled her back and placed my hands back on her hips with my dick on her ass. Shit felt unbelievable.

  “I want a slice,” I told her as I walked her over to my car. I loved to see hoes eyes light up when my doors opened. She had this look like she was impressed. I sucked my teeth, got in the whip and pulled off. I took her to the Slice down the street from her school. I ordered a pizza, some drinks, and sat back just looking at her.

  “What’s yo’ name? You always ride with strangers?” I asked her as I sipped on my pop. She again said nothing and just looked into her cup. She played with her straw every so often and took a few sips here and there.

  “Give me some,” I teased and reached for her cup. She held it up and I reached over the table and placed my lips on hers. Her lips tasted like bubble gum and Faygo orange pop.

  “Mmhh, that shit good,” I said and scooted on her side of the booth. I took her hair out of the ponytail holder and ran my hands down her thick jet black hair.

  “What's yo’ name?” I asked again; this time with a little bass in my voice.

  “Venice, but everyone calls me Ven!”

  “Do I look like everybody?” I questioned her and placed my lips back on hers. She scooted back in her seat and pulled away.

  “What up Deuce?” Someone said from behind me. I looked up to see that nigga Lamont standing over me like I owed him some shit. He was pissing me off. The way his eyes went from me to Venice, the way he looked at her, was enough to make me feel like he wanted what belonged to me.

  “What up,” I said while running my hands through her hair. He licked his lips, and I jumped up from my seat ready to pound this nigga. “Fuck you looking at nigga?”

  He gave me the once over and slipped me a ten dollar bill.

  “Naw nigga, I’m chilling.” I told him. I sat back down and put my arm around Venice’s neck. I looked up, and boy was still looking. Lifting my shirt, I let that nigga know I was ready to pull and he backed back while still looking at me like he was gon’ do something.

  ITALY

  My heart was racing a mile a minute as I sat next to this boy. I didn’t even know his name and he already kissed me and had my nipples hard. I looked at him wanting him to do it again, but afraid where it would lead.

  When I saw that he had a gun on his hip, I was a little worried and at the same time turned on. I slipped on the other side of the booth and just watched him for a second. He poked his lip out and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Come here,” he ordered and I pulled further away. He finally grabbed my arm and pulled me over to him.

  “Give me kiss,” he said. He didn’t wait for me to respond and took my lip into his mouth. I could feel places on my body tingle that I had never felt. I was so grateful when the waitress sat the pizza before us. He sat back in is seat and looked at the food, and then me.

  He fixed us both a plate. I looked at the food, and the aroma had my stomach roaring, but I was shaking with the thought of eating in front of him. I had never really been this close to a boy outside of school, and was worried what he would think.

  “What up nigga?” another voice said from behind us. Suddenly a slice of pizza was snatched off of the pan and a tall brown skinned guy sat beside me and began to eat.

  “This is my nigga T- bone, T- bone this, Ven!” T-bone nodded at me, and then grabbed another slice of pizza. Both of them ate like they were starving, and began talking amongst themselves like I was no longer in the room.

  I stood up and Deuce pulled me back down!

  “Where you going?” he asked with a concerned look in his eyes. It was so sexy to me. I had no clue why his forcefulness was turning me on.

  “It’s 5:00, and my mom will trip if I’m not home in 20 minutes.”

  He sucked his teeth, and stood up. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the table.

  “No, she can’t see me with you!” I said and slid out the booth. He pulled me back and kissed my neck.

  “Give me yo’ phone!” Once again, he belted out another order.

  “I ain't got one,” I told him and picked up my book bag. He rolled his eyes like I had lied to him.

  “Man whatever, give me a fuckin’ pen.”

  I handed him the pen from my purse and he wrote his number on a napkin.

  “Are you gon’ to call me when you get home?” he asked as he tightly held onto my arm.

  “Yes,” I answered him. I pulled my arm away and rushed to catch the Southfield bus back to Detroit.

  I ran outside just in time to make my bus. I felt guilty that I had lied to him. My mom didn't care if I came home or not. The truth was, I was ashamed that I stayed in the hood. He was draped in diamonds and he wore name brand clothes that I had never even heard of. Why would he want to be bothered with the child of a base head?

  It took an hour and a half to get from where I attended school to my side of time. As I sat alone in my room, I stared at the napkin with his number on it wanting to call him, but our house phone had been cut off. My mom had started using crack again and every dollar she got went to her habit; leaving me, my brother, and my sister to fend for ourselves.

  ***

  It had been two rough weeks, and I had almost forgotten about Deuce until I was standing at the bus stop and saw his car drive past me. I turned my back with hopes that he wouldn’t see me. He kept driving, and I felt a sense of relief until I heard the sound of gunshots, followed by cars crashing.

  I looked up in disbelief when
I saw Deuce’s car wrapped around the pole. I stood in shock not knowing what to do. I wanted to run to him, but I didn't even know him like that. The sound of sirens broke my trance, and I ran over to the car thinking about the gun that I remembered Deuce carrying that day.

  The sight was breathtaking. Glass had shattered all over him, and he wasn’t moving. His gun rested in his hand, and I went for it. He slapped at my hand and looked at me like I was crazy.

  “Please, I have to. The police are coming!” I warned as I took the gun and slipped it inside my book bag. He smirked right before he passed out.

  Once the police came over, they pushed everyone back. I slipped through the people so that no one would ask me any questions. My book bag felt as if it was hundred pounds heavier with that gun in it. It was like I could feel it pulling my body down as I made my way home. Soon as I got into the house and into my room, I tossed the bag on the other side of my bedroom.

  “Venice!” my mom called out and walked into my bedroom. Her sudden appearance caused me to jump. She stood before me all dressed up like she was going somewhere, but she still couldn’t stop scratching

  “Girl, what's wrong with you?” Me? I wanted to ask as I watched her scratching all over her body.

  “Nothing,” I said and looked away from the bag.

  “The man cut the phone back on, but you gone have to find 30 dollars for food. I sold the food stamps to pay the phone bill.”

  I sucked my teeth knowing the bill was only thirty dollars, and she got over six hundred dollars in food stamps. I just nodded my head yes and laid back on my bed. I kept seeing Deuce over and over again in that car. Blood covered his face and every second I thought about it, my heart raced.

  That following week at school, was a blank. I hid the gun at home under my bed, but that was all that I could think of. I walked through the halls waiting for the day to end. Finally Friday was here, and I had heard nothing about Deuce. Everyone had acted as if the accident never happened, but I couldn’t.

  “Yo’ T- bone!”I called out to his boy from the pizza place as I walked towards the bus stop. He turned to look at me and gave me a cocky grin.