Pitbulls in a Skirt

by Mikal Malone

“Don’t be, baby. Let me love you for one night. Let me show you how you deserve to feel. Let me show you how shit would be, if you were my lady.”

  With that declaration, I gave into him. His soft sucks on my breasts made my toes curl. When I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he methodically ate my pussy, as if he’d been dreaming of it. For the first time ever, I reached an orgasm through oral sex, and I had Dex to thank.

  But what we did next, we would forever be wrong for. He removed himself from his jeans and without protection, entered my body, which was anxiously waiting on him. That night, Dex made love to me, and it was the first time I’d ever made love. He held me until 6:00 in the morning and in more ways than one, he saved my life.

  We never talked about it again, knowing what we shared would always be kept between him and me.

  To this day, I’d always love Dex for what he did for me. And I’d never know if he thought about me as much as I did him.

  Chapter 12

  Just Another Day

  January, Sunday, 6:22 p.m.

  Thick

  Thick was running shit around the Southside of DC.

  The shops he started in the areas surrounding Emerald City were quickly making him one of the richest dealers in the area. Thick had another purpose that he wouldn’t give up on until it was complete. That was taking over Emerald City and securing his position as the new chief.

  “Why you taking me home now, Thick?” Zakayla asked while his Ford Excursion truck made its way toward home.

  “Look, you know what the deal is. I got shit to take care of back in the city. I’ll get up with you later, baby! Why you tripping?”

  “You sure you not trying to get back to Yvette? I mean, when you gonna tell her about us, Thick? I can’t keep living like this. Either you gonna be with me, and work on the family we supposed to have, or you gotta leave me the fuck alone.”

  Thick hated how women claimed they could handle a man with a double life, and the moment they got feelings, they would start pressuring niggas and shit.

  “Look, don’t start pressuring me, Zakayla! I don’t need this fucking shit. I got enough to deal with at home with Yvette,” he yelled in a tone so loud, it rocked his truck the same way his speakers could.

  “Who the fuck you talking to, Thick? If it’s gotta be like that, don’t worry about coming back to me. Shit, I need a man full time.”

  Thick couldn’t push Zakayla’s emotional buttons the way he could Yvette’s. He knew that although she loved him, she would’ve wasted no time cutting his ass off. She already had her ex-boyfriend sneaking around, just waiting for his balling ass to fuck up. Zakayla dumped Irvin because he was too weak, and unlike Thick, he didn’t know how to handle a woman with her own mind.

  He pulled over at a park along Route 40 in Ellicott City, Maryland, a few minutes from the apartment that he put Zakayla up in.

  “Listen, I’m feeling you and I know you know that shit, but I’m a man, baby, and a man can’t be given too many ultimatums. All you gonna do is push me away. Now you know good and fucking well I wanna be with you. So stop lunching out, when you know I got shit to take care of.”

  She turned around and faced him. Immediately causing him to become humble the moment he looked at her beautiful face, when just moments before he was narcissistic and full of himself. Everything about Zakayla was beautiful. Her dark complexion and thick, long eyelashes gave her an angelic look. Just looking at her, you would never expect that she was the future wife of a hustler. Thick had planned to marry her sometime next year.

  “Okay, baby,” she said playing on the fact that her beauty mesmerized him. “Why don’t you put your seat back, Daddy. I wanna give you a lil something to remember me by while you’re on the road back to DC.”

  Obedient and horny, Thick did exactly what he was told. Zakayla moved her body, which was a petite, size 4 waist, phat ass and 36-D titties, over his.

  Gently she pulled his dick out of his jeans, and placed him raw inside her wet and eager pussy. She wasn’t fucking him, she was fucking the power he represented. The life she wanted. She covered his mouth with hers and rotated her hips until he came. Thick thought Zakayla was on the pill, so cumming inside her was a privilege that she offered that Yvette couldn’t. If they didn’t use a condom, Yvette made sure he pulled out and he hated it.

  When Zakayla was done, she sat silently in her seat on the ride home. In her mind there was nothing else to say. She wanted the last thought he had of her, to be their sexual encounter. Examining her engagement ring, she felt even more confident that he would go through with everything he’d promised.

  Since the day he proposed to her, in front of the Emerald City squad and her friends, she had been planning their wedding. When they arrived at the apartment, where he paid the rent, he walked her to her door to see her in safe. Back in his truck, he tried to prepare himself for dealing with his other life, all the while knowing he was nowhere near ready.

  Thick didn’t have time to shower before he went home to Yvette. And as most men did sometimes, he underestimated how smart his woman was. He came through the door, and put one arm around Yvette’s waist and pulled her to him. Yvette had one thing on her mind, examining her man to see where he had been, before he was able to jump in the shower.

  “What you make to eat, boo?” Thick asked moving toward their refrigerator.

  “Nothing yet. You want me to make some of them cheddar cheese burgers from Murry’s?”

  “Yeah, that’s cool,” he said, irritated that he had to ask her to cook when she knew he was coming home.

  That was another way Zakayla won him over. She took care of him, and treated him in a way that all men loved to be treated. In addition, Zakayla worked out regularly, and took good care of her body. Lately, Yvette had been gaining more and more weight, and the size 10 body Thick had grown attracted to had been replaced with a size 14. With all that said, Yvette was still cute and most men around the block loved her thickness just as much as they loved the way she was able to hold Emerald City down. Thick, on the other hand, was beginning to hate it.

  The other thing that made Thick choose Zakayla instead of Yvette as his wife was how they survived a car accident together, which scarred both of their faces. Zakayla went to Love nightclub in DC one night, and saw Thick blessing the bar with his cash by ordering drinks for everybody in VIP. He told her that night that he was visiting his sick cousin, and couldn’t chill with her.

  She was even more hurt when she saw a few of her so-called friends taking from the money that was supposed to be in her pockets. They didn’t even bother calling her to tell her he was there. What upset her the most was this girl who appeared to be glued to his arm like the diamond emblazoned Movado watch he rocked. When Zakayla made her presence known, she left the club and Thick quickly followed her, leaving the Emerald City squad behind.

  When they finally made it outside, Thick ran after Zakayla, desperately trying to rearrange in her mind what she’d witnessed.

  Walking angrily to her car, she made up in her head that she didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. As far as she was concerned, he was disrespecting her. What Zakayla didn’t count on was Thick overpowering her and throwing her in his truck.

  Without asking, he lifted her up off her feet and put her in his Cadillac truck, and locked her in her seat belt. In spite of the fight she put up, she still ended up in his passenger seat on the way down the road.

  Drunk, he took off driving, afraid that he may have lost the one female that excited him since he first met Yvette. Without looking, he ran into another car, which ricocheted and hit his truck again. Thick was thrown through the truck window, and Zakayla while still wearing her seat belt, received minor concussion and the scar she wore on her face today. Thick didn’t mind being scarred up, saying that the marks they wore brought them closer together. Six months later, he asked her to be his wife.

  He never told Yvette the full truth; he told her he was in the truck alone the night o
f the accident. Catering to his every need, Yvette nursed the man who hurt himself confessing his love to another woman back to health.

  “Make love to me now,” Yvette demanded, trying to see where his head was.

  “Naw….let me jump in the shower first. Them niggas out there had me chasing they asses ‘round the block for my cash tonight. I’ll hit you off when I’m done though,” he said, while moving toward the shower.

  “Thick! Stop fucking playing with me. Whenever you want me, sweaty, dirty or not, I give it to you. Now I’m telling you right now to get the fuck over here.”

  “Who the fuck you talking to, yo?”

  “Yo?” she repeated. “Is that where she lives? In bamified ass Baltimore?” Yvette asked, picking up on the “yo” he used at the end of his sentence.

  “Bitch, get the fuck out my face and fix my food!” he said as he moved to the bathroom and jumped in the shower.

  Frustrated, Yvette quickly picked up the phone to call her girl.

  “Kenyetta. Do me a favor,” she asked when she answered.

  “No problem. What you need?” she asked willing to do whatever her friend wanted.

  “Is Lil C outside?”

  “Yeah he out here. Why?”

  “Send him up here to get Thick’s car keys. And I want you to run the Overhaul on his ass for me.”

  She knew Kenyetta knew exactly what the Overhaul meant. It meant running through that nigga’s truck, until she found any signs of him being with another bitch.

  “I’m sending him up now,” Kenyetta said hanging up.

  Five minutes later, with Thick still in the shower, Lil C came upstairs.

  Before she opened up the door, she already had the money for him. Lil C was young but he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t do anything unless it was something in it for him. Although he had no idea of why he was giving Thick’s car keys to Kenyetta, he did know that something was definitely up.

  Handing him a crisp $50.00 bill, and reminding him to keep his mouth closed, she sent Lil C back downstairs to complete her mission.

  Ten minutes later, Thick got out the shower wrapped in a towel and walked into their room to get dressed. Black bastard! She thought to herself. Yeah, I got your ass now.

  Fifteen minutes later, Lil C returned with the car keys. As he was handing them to Yvette, Thick walked out the room, and toward the door.

  “What’s up, lil nigga? Where your father at?”

  “I don’t know, young!” he responded in that same arrogant tone.

  “Word? Well look, did your father give you them Jordans I picked up for you?”

  “Yeah thanks man! Them joints is tight!”

  “No problem, lil nigga. What you doing up here anyway?” he asked.

  Yvette on the other hand was scared to death. If Thick found out she sent somebody on a rampage through his truck, he would fuck her up. It never dawned on her that he might catch Lil C bringing back the keys. She was dead-set on her mission and that was the bottom line. But she smiled as she found out that already Lil C had learned to lie, like most men eventually did after they came out of pampers.

  “I came up here for you, man! I saw your truck out front and wanted to know if you can give me $50!”

  Thick began to laugh because he was amused that Lil C was already about getting money. He liked him and liked the way he had turned out.

  “I ain’t got $50.00, lil nigga, but you can keep this $100.00.”

  “That’s what’s up, Uncle Thick!” he said as he grabbed the cash and ran out the door.

  That was smooth. Yvette thought, smiling with relief. That boy made $150 in less than twenty minutes.

  When her phone rang, she excused herself from Thick to answer it.

  “If it’s Carissa and them, tell them you tending to your nigga and can’t be shooting the shit with them all night. Ya’ll can talk later,” he said sarcastically.

  “Whatever, Thick!” Yvette shot back as she moved to the bedroom to take the call privately.

  “Bitch, you heard me right?”

  “Yeah, Thick,” she said partially defeated.

  “Make it quick!” he stated.

  When he was done with his demands she turned her attention back to the call.

  “So what’s up?” she whispered, anxious to see what she had found.

  “He ain’t have no condoms or nothing like that.”

  Disappointment washed over her. “Oh.”

  “But I did find something else, Yvette.”

  “What is it?” she asked as her heart rate sped up.

  “His t-shirt was in the back seat, balled up. When I opened it I saw some shit on it that looked like nut or something.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, girl. Nut. Big “T” is definitely stepping out on you.”

  Yvette had heard enough. She knew what kind of man she had and she knew it was nut. He had taken his shirt off plenty of times when they were together sexually in the car or not and he always used it to wipe himself off. What hurt the most was that he had sex in a truck that was in her name. Thick didn’t have credit and couldn’t even get an apartment in his own name if he wanted to. This was an extreme violation.

  “Thanks, Kenyetta.”

  “You need anything?” she said in a concerned tone. “Wanna get some drinks at my place?”

  “Naw…I’ll talk to you later.” When she ended the call, she stared at him unnoticed. It angered her that he was all posted up as if nothing happened.

  Always a soldier, she went about her day and cooked his meal. She wanted to say something but didn’t.

  Number one, he would fuck her up for violating his privacy, and number two, he’d be mad at Kenyetta for going in his truck.

  She sucked it up, and decided to follow him the next time he wanted to take one of his weekend trips. As tough as she was, the only thing that scared her was losing him. But something told her that she already did.

  Chapter 13

  Like Ballas Do

  January, Friday, 9:30 p.m.

  The Emerald City Squad

  In a hotel conference room tucked away in downtown D.C., members of the Emerald City squad were dressed in all black. Outside of their distinguishing facial features, all that could be seen in the room were platinum and diamond chains and diamond emblazoned watches. The squad was coming up quickly and at this point in the game, they could do anything they wanted financially.

  The Emerald City squad didn’t cut corners when it came to their meetings. They believed that a man could do his best thinking when in the company of beautiful women, bomb weed, good drinks and good food. So for entertainment, they hired strippers from the former Club 55 and had every color from dark chocolate to French vanilla to please their eyes. Fat breasts, small waist and round asses, aroused their minds, and their bodies. In the dimly lit room, four strippers wearing nothing but black thongs and black stilettos with steel heels were entertaining them while they held their monthly meeting.

  Several issues needed to be addressed regarding Emerald City and their surrounding shops. Although not originally intended, the Emerald City squad was quickly beginning to reign as the most vicious crew in D.C. Niggas knew from all around that if you messed with one of the shops EC ran, you would have to deal with the entire crew instead of just one of them.

  “So what up with this Derrick thing? I hear that nigga’s causing problems around Emerald City,” Dyson said.

  “What you mean what’s up with him? That nigga getting paper, so we all getting paper,” Thick said sipping Hennessey and Coke, while rubbing his hand up the thigh of one of the baddest strippers in Washington D.C.

  “That nigga may be getting paper for now,” said Cameron who was already tired of the shit he was giving his fiancé. “But if he can’t respect the girls, he gonna have to get paper somewhere else!”

  Thick pushed the stripper to the side. “Oh, so you making the rules now?”

  “I’m not makin the rules, man, but I am making sure that this is
sue gets some real fucking attention. Mercedes ain’t blowing you up every time this nigga feel like he don’t wanna follow the rules. She blowing me up! Now we all know that Mercedes is in charge of collection, and since she gotta deal with dude all the time, we need to put his ass in check!” he said, as he sipped Belvedere from his cup.

  The meetings used to be ran by Dex, but after he was murdered, they decided to keep them going, with a new person running it each month. That person would be in charge of the strippers, food, and the location. They never held their meetings in the same location, leaving nothing to chance. They knew that the more predictable you were, the more you increased your chances of being caught slipping. And with the heat they brought around the hood, they had made plenty of enemies.

  Lavelle yelled, “Okay, everybody calm down. We need to weigh everything before we make a decision about Derrick!” He took a draw of his weed. “What exactly are the girls saying he’s doing, Cam?”

  “You know how women are—”

  Before Cameron could finish speaking, Thick interrupted him. “Yeah I know how they are. And that’s what the fuck I’m talking about. Anytime you got bitches running shit, niggas is gonna be mad emotional. It’s natural. Shit, I don’t want to hear half of the shit Zakayla be giving me. It’s in a man’s nature to give a bitch orders, not take orders from ‘em. Derrick just probably used to us running shit that’s all.”

  Cameron added, “Well shit has changed, Thick! The girls are holding down that operation for us.”

  “Ain’t nothing changed, man. They still moody bitches. I’m sure if you talked to Derrick, he’d have something else to say about it. We shouldn’t be coming down on him on bullshit. That nigga’s station stays pumping! Everybody gotta give.”

  “Yeah but if we think like that, all we doing’ is giving’ niggas a free past to fuck with’ them, which is fucking’ with’ our money,” Lavelle insisted. “We got to keep nigga’s in check. Fucking’ with’ the girls, should have the same repercussions as that fucking’ with’ us would. NO FUCKIN’ EXCEPTIONS!”