I Wanna Be Bad For You

by N. Carmouche

  WHAMP!

  The back of D’s hand came crashing down on to the side of my face. If I wasn’t dazed from Rashaad choking me, I was definitely seeing stars now. I was stunned as I put my hand up to my stinging face. It was bad enough that I had just had Rashaad attempt to kill me, but now, that bitch was tapping into her inner Ike Turner emotions and had me feeling like I had punching bag written across my pretty face. That night was definitely proving to not be my night at all.

  “Who the fuck you think you talking to, yo’?” D hovered over me, as I crawled toward my coffee table using it as an anchor to help pull myself up. I stood to face her, as she charged toward me with fire in her eyes.

  “It ain’t my fault you dropping on your knees for niggas and bitches, you hoe! Your messy ass got everything you deserved from that nigga, so don’t come at me with the bullshit, cause I’m not the one.” She yelled in my face before mushing my forehead, causing me to stumble again.

  I felt the handle of the gun that I’d sat on my table earlier and rose to my feet. I turned around and faced D, raising my pistol dead center to her face. That chick had lost her whole mind if she thought I was going to let her use me as a punching bag after being over powered by Rashaad.

  “I’m talking to you! Get the fuck out of my house, BITCH!” I yelled, while she backed up to the door. I didn’t miss the sinister look on her face before she slammed the door behind her.

  As fucked up as it sounded, I actually considered texting Rashaad and putting him up on the fact that D had it out for him. I knew that she probably thought that I was dumb to the fact that she was trying to use me to plot on him, but my IPhone hack game was strong, and I’d seen all the text between her and a number that wasn’t stored.

  Fuck both of them! I thought to myself, as I stared in my bathroom mirror, running my hands across my now bruised neck. Let them kill each other! Was how I felt about it.

  Rashaad

  My blood was still boiling once I’d gotten to my car. I sat parked in front of Mesha’s building trying to calm my nerves. I grabbed the Extendo blunt that I had on reserve from my glove box, and sat back and let the Cali kush take me away.

  I’d never put my hands on a woman before, but Mesha had an angel around her ass tonight, because it was hard as hell for me to let her go until I saw her lips turning purple and her eyes roll to the back of her head. But, I couldn’t waste my time on a trick like her. It was partly my fault that that shit was even happening. I knew that I should have been done with her ass a long time ago.

  The fact that I now knew that Devyn was carrying my first born only solidified the fact that I was indeed in love with the girl. It was just crazy to me how she could just up and disappear on a nigga. That girl had my head gone. I have never been knocked off my square like this over anyone. I started my car, just as a tatted up, red bone, butch-looking chick walked out of Mesha’s building. Maybe, it was the weed, but I could have sworn home girl ice grilled the hell out me like I’d just shot her dog, as she crossed the street in front of my car. I shrugged off the feeling and headed back to my crib.

  ~~~

  “Ay’, Lil’ Bro, you alright over there?” Meek asked me. I sat back in the passenger seat of his truck clicking the safety on and off on my gun in a daze. I could feel him staring at me, but I didn’t care. I was stressing hard behind the events of the day.

  My pops had sent Meek to pick me up from my place at 3 a.m., because he’d gotten an address on Danielle and didn’t want to waste time making a move on her. Now, we were sitting in front of my father’s hotel waiting for him to come down.

  “I’m good. I’m just ready to take care of this so I can figure out what the fuck is up with Baby.” I mumbled. My head was all types of fucked up, because I still hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to her. I’d even tried calling her on Meeks’ phone, but it was now going straight to voicemail. I made a mental note to go see Rina tomorrow to try to get a line on her. I refused to let her just walk out my life like that, especially, now since I knew that she was carrying my first born.

  “Yo’, Meek. Call pops and see if he ready, yo’. How we waiting on him, and he called for us to come over here? I’m ready to get this over with.” I said to my brother, in hopes that he would change the subject. He just shook his head and connected the call via the Bluetooth in his car. Imagine our surprise when a familiar voice answered the phone to his room. We both stared at each other in shock and disbelief.

  “Ma!” Meek exclaimed.

  “Rameek!” She retorted back.

  “Ma, you in pops room? What’s going on right now?” I laughed, in disbelief, lightweight shaking the funk I’d been in off.

  “You called his room, didn’t you?” She replied. “Umm, the last time I checked, I was the mama, and y’all were the children. Don’t be questioning me, boy. We’ll be down in a minute.” She said, before hanging up the phone. Meek and I erupted in laughter at what had just transpired.

  After a few minutes, my mother and father emerged from the hotel entrance, both dressed in black, holding hands. Although it was a shock, it felt good seeing them together like that. I could tell, by the look on my mother’s face, that she was happy.

  My father’s crew pulled up along side of us in a caravan of blacked-out Tahoe’s. It was time to put in that work. My father gave them a few instructions before motioning for Meek and I to get in the back seat, while he drove and my mom rode shotgun. I wasn’t sure how I felt about my mother being a part of what was about to go down. If anything happened to her, I knew my world would just come crashing down. She turned around and faced Meek and I with a smile, as if she’d heard my thoughts, and said. “Don’t look nervous, son. Your mama been about that life since before you were born. What, you thought y’all got all that street sense from your daddy? Humph, you better ask about me. Born and raised in Chiraq honey.” She said, before turning back around and relaxing in the front seat.

  “Ma, for real? Chiraq?” Meek shook his head, but she just waved him off.

  “She wouldn’t let me leave her at the hotel.” My father said, sounding defeated.

  “Marco, I wish you would! I been wanting to whip that little home wrecker’s ass since 2002, so you, damn right, you wasn’t leaving me!” She said, matter of factly. “Don’t even get me started on why this mess is even happening, okay?” I could tell my dad was enjoying her feistiness.

  Within minutes, we were pulling into an alley behind a row of run down townhomes on the cities north side. One of the attached garage doors shot open as my father turned off the lights and pulled inside. Two of my father’s men stood inside of the garage already waiting for us.

  “Regina, no se mueven. Voy a volver para usted a la brevedad.” (Regina, don’t move. I will come back for you, shortly.) My father warned my mother.

  “I speak English! And, if you think I’m staying here, you have another thing coming!” My mother began to fuss.

  “I’m not joking, Regina. I don’t have time for this. Stay your ass here!” My father commanded her. My mother rolled her eyes and crossed her arms like a heart broken teenager. We exited the car with my father, leaving my mother behind sulking.

  My father briefly ran down the plan to us before we split to our assigned locations. Meek walked around to the front of the building with a few of my father’s men to ensure no one ran out of the front, while I followed behind my father up a set of hollow steps. I could hear bachata music blasting and a woman’s laughter, as we approached an apartment door. My father pulled out his gold-plated nine millimeter, which he’d gotten during a trip to Dubai, from his waist before turning to me and pressing his finger to his lips warning me to keep quiet. As if he was a welcomed guest, he turned the knob entering the apartment. We’d entered through the kitchen, and from our position, I could see the backs of a Hispanic man and woman, dancing, while the sound of the Spanish music and the hum of the cash counting machine filled the air.

  “After all these years, this is how you do me, Vi
c?” My father spoke before raising his gun at Victor.

  “Aye Dios Mio (Oh, my God)!” The woman screamed once she noticed us in the room, but my father didn’t flinch, as he advanced towards his, once closest and trusted friend. With everything that was running through my head earlier that day, I hadn’t even noticed the absence of Vic amongst the rest of my father’s entourage of henchmen, but there he stood, shirtless with a fist full of money. My money! I could feel the rage rising inside of me.

  “Macro, let me explain!” Vic said, putting his hands up, while backing up, slowly, as my father advanced. I had my gun aimed at the, now, crying woman who I assumed was Danielle.

  “You thought I wouldn’t find this out, Victor? Tú no me conoce bien! (You don’t know me well),” I could tell, by the look in my father’s eyes, that he had tunnel vision set on Victor, but he continued to speak calmly as he circled a now nervous Vic. “We were brothers. It was me who kept your dead weight afloat, and this is how you repay me, huh? Pero, let me let you in on a little secret. I’ve always kept my enemy’s close!” He whispered to him. Victor had been around Meek and I’s our whole life. We’d heard the stories of how their parents had grown up together in the Dominican Republic and relocated to New York in the 60’s, so we had always looked at him like an uncle. I would have never thought that he would be the one to betray my father.

  My father let off one shot, hitting Victor in the knee, causing him to drop down to the floor, but Victor’s cries fell on deaf ears, as my father turned his attention to the half-dressed woman. For an older woman, she was beautiful. She had long, black hair that draped past her bare shoulders, as she stood crying in only a bra and jeans. She had a kiss tattooed on her curvy hip, so I figured that it was the signature that they’d used on the counterfeit bill they’d left for my mother.

  I stepped over Victor, as he lie on the floor wailing in pain to open the front door. Meek and my father’s men entered the apartment and surveyed the scene before us. On the kitchen table, stacks of money lay piled nearly to the ceiling. The stuffing from the couch cushions lay strewn across the living room floor and was instead being replaced with the kilos of coke that bore the mark of the Figueroa Cartel. I knew, instantly, that that was part of the shipment they’d gotten from Jerel.

  “What the fuck?” Meek exclaimed, as he stared down at Vic with contempt.

  “I guess your gut feeling about your beloved tío Victor was right, son.” My father said to him, without so much as blinking, as he continued to stare at Danielle.

  “I been knew this nigga was grimey, pedazo de mierda (piece of shit)!” Meek said, before kicking Victor in his stomach, causing him to vomit. “Fuck nigga.” He spat at him.

  “And, you.” My father said, lowering his gun, as he walked towards Danielle. “My beautiful, Danielle. You always did want to be a queen pen vérdad?” My father stroked the side of her face, as she winched. “Don’t be scared, mí amor. Believe me, you will see everything I’m sending your way coming full force, but only when I’m ready. Joba, Miguel, take my money down to the car.” Marco directed the two men that stood off to the side of the room. They nodded their heads and began stacking the money and carrying it out of the apartment. Meek continued to hover over Victor with his gun trained at his head.

  “Fuck you, Marco!” Danielle said, before spitting at his feet.

  “We did that years ago, my love, so forgive me if I pass on that offer.” Marco laughed. “Now, sit your pretty ass down.” He commanded, as he motioned with his gun. Danielle crossed her arms in defiance and continued to stand. Marco raised his gun and pressed it to her forehead until she lowered herself into one of the chairs beside the table, where the money machine still hummed.

  “I made sure you were taken care of Danielle, but you chose to steal from me? Por qúe? Because, you knew, from the beginning, that I would never be with you.” My father asked, as he took a seat in front of her.

  “You denied my daughter the right to a father while you raised your precious prince’s like she was nothing, Marco.” Danielle began to cry. “So, I took what was rightfully hers.”

  “Understand something, my dear, Danielle.” My father said, calmly, as he crossed his leg and sat back, dusting his Stacy Adam shoes off. He was acting as if he was enjoying a casual conversation. “You, nor your daughter were entitled to anything, not even the crumbs I tossed your way, and now, you sit here and insult me like even that wasn’t enough Especially, when I only did that because I felt bad for you, knowing the whole time that your precious daughter belonged to that piece of shit over there.” My father said, motioning towards Victor. “Congratulation, Victor, you’re a father, but I’m sure you already knew that or else we wouldn’t be here.” He said, looking over at Vic, then turning back to Danielle. “But, I’m no fool, mamita. I knew, from the moment you brought that bastard child to my doorstep, that she wasn’t mine. I’m sure you know you ran my wife away with that little stunt, but still, I let you live.”

  “All you have to say is the word, pop.” Meek said, as he cocked his gun.

  “Word.” My father said and Meek put two slugs in Victors head, spraying his brain matter across the floor.

  “Woooo! I canceled that bitch. Call me Nino, nigga!” Meek said, showing all 38 teeth. Whenever he pulled the trigger, he always became instantly supercharged with adrenaline.

  “Something is wrong with you, my nigga.” I said, shaking my head at him.

  “Do whatever it is you came here to do, Marco. Just know that this doesn’t end here.” Danielle warned, through a strong Spanish accent, as tears streamed down her face. “Jesus and all his disciples won’t be able to help you or your psychotic children. I’m glad you didn’t father my daughter, but she will take your crown. You can fucking believe that!”

  “Oh, no no no, bitch!” My mother said, walking into the room from the kitchen. “You see, what you’re not going to do is threaten my fucking kids!” She said, as she pushed passed me and took her place behind the seat my father still sat in. “You see, I knew you wasn’t too bright when you showed up on my door step all those years ago, but now I’m convinced your mama laced your leche or whatever the fuck y’all call milk. Coming for my kids? Bitch, where?” She rolled her neck. “Meek, give me that gun. This bitch think it was a game. HA! Not today, bitch!” Meek did as he was told and handed my mother his pistol.

  “Regina, I asked you to stay in the car.” My father said, shaking his head. He had to know my mother didn’t take orders well. I was surprised that she’d waited that long to go against what he’d told her.

  “I know what you asked me to do, but I do what I want.” She said, in a matter of fact tone. “Now, what was that hot shit you was just kicking, J. Hoe?” She said to Danielle, as she aimed the gun at her. Although I had never witnessed her in this capacity, growing up, Meek and I were well-aware that our mother was a no nonsense type of woman. At that very moment, she had me shook at how natural she looked waving a gun around.

  “Que bella Marco, she came back to you? She’s cute.” Danielle sneered at my mother in a condescending tone. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, while staring my mother up and down. You’d think that she’d be afraid given the fact that we all had deadly thoughts for her, but she appeared as cool as a cucumber while Regina leaned in closer to her face.

  “No bitch, I’m fly as fuck! Get it right. You made the mistake of a lifetime when you decided to come at my babies, so listen to me good when I say this. You and no one else will ever disrupt my family, again.” My mother responded before shooting her right between the eyes. The force behind the bullet had knocked Danielle’s body back, causing her to fall to the floor, as blood oozed from her wound.

  “Do you feel better now, Regina?” My father asked, as he stood from his seat.

  “A little bit, but don’t get cute, Marco. I’m pretty sure it’s another bullet in this damn gun. Got me out here shooting bitches, and shit, because you want to converse with the hoe. You already know she t
ook your damn money. What else y’all need to talk about?” She continued to fuss, as she headed for the kitchen entrance, waving her hands. “Then, you have the nerve to tell me to wait in the car. TUH, you must have forgotten who the hell I am. Don’t worry, I have no problem reminding you. Now, let’s go. I’m hungry!”

  My father trailed behind her, shaking his head, as he let her talk, while making a noose motion to me and Meek. We laughed, silently. My mother wasn’t lying when she’d said she was crazy. We’d gotten a full view of it just now, but it was refreshing, despite it all, to see her and my father together again.

  “Joba and Miguel will clean this mess up.” My father said to us, as we followed behind him toward the stairs that we’d used to enter the apartment.

  “I need everyone with their ear to the street on the girl, though. I’m not trying to leave any loose ends after these two shady motherfuckers.” He warned. My mind was already in the same place, based of what Danielle said before my mother had offed her.

  When I finally got back to my apartment, I continued to stare at the test Devyn had left behind. I needed to get my woman back. Since she’d come into my life, I just felt different. She was so laid back and cool about almost everything that she did. Most women today would do just about anything to get my attention, but Devyn was different. It pissed me off that she could just up and leave me like she had, and that was the reason that I was now feeling like I was going crazy.

  “I’m going to get my girl back. You can bet that!” I said to myself, as I laid across my bed, watching the sun rise through my apartment.

  Devyn

  For two days, I had been held up in my apartment, completely shut out from the world. I was thankful that I hadn’t given Rina a key to my new place, yet, when I’d heard her yelling, cussing, and banging on the door the other day, but all I could bring myself to do was sleep and lay, staring at the ceiling. To me, it seemed like, since I’d found out that I was pregnant that morning, sickness had been kicking my ass. That, plus all the tears I’d cried. It was amazing that I even had the energy to stand. It was never my intent to end up in another relationship so soon only for the same thing to happen all over again, and being somebody’s “baby mama” definitely wasn’t high on my list of goals to accomplish. I was starting to feel like what I wanted for myself just wasn’t realistic anymore.