Pitbulls in a Skirt

by Mikal Malone

  The squad fell silent. They knew what Lavelle was saying was right. Lavelle broke through the darkness in the dimly let room by pulling from his weed. The smoke rising from it appeared to break the silence.

  “He’s right,” Thick said, although he hated to be made a fool of over something that now seemed so obvious. Allowing niggas to disrespect the girls, just because they were girls, could fuck with their business. He realized more than ever that no type of disrespect could be tolerated simply because a nigga was salty. “I’ll talk to Derrick.”

  “Naw, man. I think I should do it. You already held the meeting with Doctanian’s crew. Letting you go again would seem like you’re the only one they need to be worried about,” Dyson said as he sipped on his drink and pulled a stripper on his lap. “I’ll go instead.”

  Although Kenyetta had accused Dyson of cheating before, he still wasn’t the worst one out of the crew. He’d only fuck a girl to relieve stress. But Thick on the other hand had taken things to another level. Behind his back, they all talked about how he was dirty for making Zakayla wifey instead of the woman who helped build their organization. It wasn’t the fucking or the cheating that made them upset, it was the fact that by doing Yvette greasy, he was shitting where he slept. The entire operation was on the line.

  “Cool,” Thick responded, angry that they had peeped a glimpse of the plan he had to take over Emerald City. “You can talk to him. But I think we should all be there.”

  Cameron interrupted. “I don’t. He hates confrontation so I think Dyson should go alone. Derrick ain’t doing nothing stupid. He’ll be aight.”

  With a simple nod of their heads, they reluctantly reached an agreement.

  “Alright. Let’s move to the next issue. I think we should meet with the ladies more than we have been,” Dyson added.

  Thick spoke first, allowing the liquor and weed to influence his thinking. “Man, you ain’t ‘bout to control my dick.”

  “What the fuck you talking about, T? Ain’t nobody talking about your dick. What this nigga talking about?” Dyson laughed as he looked toward his friends and they began to laugh. This display of entertainment at Thick’s expense angered and embarrassed him.

  “Well what you talking ‘bout then, nigga, damn! What you really saying?”

  “I’m saying that we should hold meetings with the girls each month. And instead of them giving us bits and pieces of the status of Emerald City, they can give us everything all at once,” Dyson continued.

  “I agree. Running Emerald City ain’t no joke, and for real they holding that shit down better than we did.” Lavelle laughed. “We should help them out a little more by showing we got their backs.”

  “Okay. We’ll meet with them before we have our meetings each month. That way if there’s an issue with them, we can bring it to the table, and discuss how we want to handle it,” Dyson concluded.

  Thick was growing irritated that he wasn’t coming up with any good ideas. “Is there anything else?” he grumbled. “I’m ready to get my dick sucked by one of these bitches.”

  “Yeah. Hold fast on that shit. One more thing,” Dyson said as he gulped down his drink. “Are there any plans to get the girls out of Emerald City? I think living over there is fucking with them. And we all can agree that it’s been about time.”

  This was the first time the question ever came up in a meeting. Individually they gave the women they claimed to love their own answers on the topic. But here in front of each other, they were forced to admit what was really on their minds.

  “Why is this even being brought up?” Thick’s voice boomed. “It ain’t the right time for them to leave and we know that shit! We need to continue to feed them bullshit until we can trust somebody enough to run the control station. There’s too much money pouring into Emerald City now to change shit up. One wrong move can fuck up everything. So what you bringing up right now is bullshit,” he continued in an audacious attempt to break down an issue that the rest of them felt was serious.

  Thick pissing on Dyson’s question made Cameron mad. “Look, I plan on marrying Mercedes. I got my lil man and my girls over there too. Now I’m not afraid of the hood, but my girl ain’t happy there no more. It’s easy for us to say that shit should be cool because most of us ain’t there but two or three days out of the week. But they living over there 24-7. That shit ain’t right, I’m telling y’all now.”

  “I’m with Cameron. My two lil girls are over there, man. This ain’t gonna fly for long. They can run shit off EC the same way we do,” Lavelle added.

  Thick stood up and walked around the table. His sudden movement caused the strippers to scatter. “What I want to know is who the fuck are we really loyal to? We have a fucking business to run. It ain’t like we took them out of suburbia and moved them into the projects. They were born, raised and bred in them mothafuckas! I say this issue shouldn’t even be addressed, until we pump enough fear in that mothafucka, that niggas won’t even attempt to fuck with us. Until then, this shit is dead.” Without waiting for a response, he sat back down and picked up his cup.

  From the outside, the Emerald City squad appeared to be falling apart. But in some of their minds, this tension could make them closer if they came through it. Still, Cameron and Lavelle felt it was easy for Thick to trample all over the issue because he wasn’t feeling Yvette anymore. But for them it was hard, because they had vowed to be true to the ones they were in love with.

  On the other hand, they swore loyalty to the crew. But sooner or later, something or somebody was going to have to give.

  Chapter 14

  Too Much Mouth

  January, Tuesday, 9:00 a.m.

  Derrick

  Derrick was deep into his main girl’s pussy.

  Her pussy wasn’t as tight as he liked it to be, but she knew how to work her muscles so well that it really didn’t matter. Even though she was his main girl, it was only because he didn’t spend time with anybody else. He was too busy. As Lieutenant of the Emerald City’s Unit C squad, his real time was spent banking money, and watching over his soldiers.

  After busting all of his nut on Shannon’s face, he made her get up and grab him a warm washcloth from the bathroom. He couldn’t stand laying in the smell of sex for too long. But he didn’t feel like moving either. Shannon returned with the wet washcloth and began gently wiping his dick down. When she was done with him she wiped her mouth, hopped on the bed next to him, and began tracing the outline of his muscles with her index finger.

  “So what you doing today? Can you take me to the movies or something?”

  “What I tell you ‘bout trying to make plans with me during the week?”

  She stared at him trying to remember.

  “Don’t,” he reminded her.

  She jumped up and searched the cold floor for her panties. “Well why not? It seems like all we do is fuck!”

  “What’s the problem?” He slid to the floor to do his 100 sit-ups and 100 push-up routine. “Besides, you knew from the rip that’s all I could give you.”

  “Please! Save that bullshit! The moment I start feeling somebody else, you get an attitude!”

  He stopped in mid-sit up. “Is that what you think?” He let out a disgusted sound. “Because I don’t give a fuck who you deal with, just as long as it ain’t nobody from ‘round here.”

  She stood over him and put her foot on his chest. “Well I guess you wouldn’t be worried. Seeing as though you still checking behind a woman you can never have.”

  He pushed her foot off. “That’s your problem. You running your mouth ‘bout shit you don’t know about. If your mouth wasn’t so quick, maybe I could take you a little more seriously. But no woman on my arm can have a mouth like yours.”

  “Are you sure about that, Derrick? I mean, you tell me all the time about how Mercedes be kicking shit to you, yet you still like her.” She walked away, searching for her bra and clothes.

  Shannon’s words made him angry. Not because they were lies, but
because he didn’t know what he was feeling and he hated the idea of somebody else knowing something he didn’t. As far as he knew, Mercedes was just a pretty face, and like most women, she had a mouth. He hated how she bossed him around or tried to play him in front of his crew when their money was to be collected. So while part of him was attracted to her, an equal part of him hated her guts.

  He wiped his face with the towel on the dresser, and stood up. “Look, I gotta go out there and get my money. So put your shit on and get out.”

  “Whatever, nigga, I’m leaving anyway! You are so fucking sorry. You know if Cameron finds out you’re jocking for his girl, you just might show up missing.”

  Shannon’s mouth set him off. He rushed her and pushed her against the wall with his hand around her neck. Shannon’s eyes were so big he thought they might pop out of her head. She clawed at his arms while trying to secure her next breath.

  “Now what you got to say, bitch?” Her face began to turn red. “Like I said, your mouth is the main reason I will never fuck with you on a serious tip. Now get your shit and get the fuck outta here!”

  When he released her, she brushed her soft wavy hair out of her face and headed to the bathroom to put the rest of her clothes on. She couldn’t wrap her mind around why she even continued to fuck with him. But when she put on her one-carat diamond earrings and diamond tennis bracelet, she was quickly reminded. Derrick spent money on her, and good money at that. He wasn’t buying a relationship, he was buying her time. As long as he gave her money, he expected her to be accessible to him any time he wanted her with no questions asked. But lately she was trying to be more like a wife, instead of the paid prostitute she really was.

  In the kitchen, Derrick drank some orange juice and ate an apple. His body was his temple and he didn’t put anything in it unless it was pure. No fast food or processed goods went into his body. Although he smoked weed, he’d combat anything somebody said about that by saying it was grown naturally. He was a powerhouse inside and out. Books by Malcolm X, Huey Newton and other black activists filled the bookshelf on the wall. He was by far different on the inside than most people knew. But he preferred it that way, the less they knew about him the better.

  When Shannon finished dressing, Derrick approached her before she left out the door. She hoped that he felt bad for how he treated her, and was going to apologize. She placed it out of her mind after realizing that him apologizing was as far-fetched as him making her his girl.

  “Shannon….next time you come around here just tell them bitches what they need to know. Don’t bullshit them when you come through them gates. Them girls ain’t playing. It’s business.”

  Trying to bite her tongue, while not trying to piss him off was becoming harder for her to do. Still, she realized she’d gain nothing by making him more upset than he already was.

  “I will...But just so you know, Carissa got mad at me and Sharonda because we knew Lavelle. She acted like it was a crime to know him or something.”

  He took one step closer to her. “What you talking ‘bout, girl?”

  “Well you know he fucking Sharonda, right? Well…we mentioned we knew him, just trying to see where her head was at, and she got all bent out of shape.” The light from his kitchen bounced off the earrings and the honey brown fur coat that she wore compliments of his money.

  “Why the fuck would ya’ll do that bamma shit?” he yelled.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. She was acting all high and mighty, and we thought it’d be funny to put her back in her place. We was just fucking with her. It wasn’t that serious. After we finished playing her, we told her what she needed to know.”

  “Shannon, get the fuck out! And don’t call me, I’ll call you.” He opened the door and slammed it behind her.

  Bitches! He thought. He didn’t understand why she would have Sharonda in the car in the first place. Let alone hint around to her fucking Lavelle. I swear that bitch gonna make me knock her ass out!

  He decided not to give any more thought to it because the damage was done and there wasn’t anything he could do to change it. He just jumped in the shower, and prepared himself for work.

  “Walk with me for a sec, man,” Dyson said as he pulled up on Derrick working in the yard.

  “What about my soldiers? You know a lot of shit been going on around here.”

  “I know, man. Put one of your best on look out and meet me around back near the community center.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Derrick did what he was told. Eager to find out what was up, he hustled around the back of Unit C to the community center. Noticing Dyson was sitting in his white BMW 750i, Derrick jumped in the passenger seat and locked the door. Once in, Dyson handed him a blunt and Derrick pulled on it.

  He laughed as he took another pull before passing it. “So what up, man? I know you ain’t come here to pass the bob with me.”

  He nodded in agreement, as he pulled on the weed inside the cherry tasting blunt paper. “Naw I didn’t. But it’s a hell of an icebreaker, ain’t it? This shit comes from my Jamaican connect and it moves faster than I can get it in.”

  “For real? Well why we ain’t got none of this over here?” Derrick asked.

  “Because Dreyfus supplies everything for EC man. And he wouldn’t appreciate nothing but his product moving over here. Well look, nigga, I ain’t out here to beat around the bush. I just figured I’d hit you off with a little bit of ganja, before I tell you what I need to tell you.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You need to stop fucking with Mercedes and them.” He reached under his seat and put his .38 in his lap, with the barrel facing Derrick.

  Derrick instantly got heated. “So it’s like that? You come out here and pull your weapon on me?”

  “Naw, mothafucka! What it’s like is that you gotta stop fucking with ‘em. If you know the money’s due, or they need you on something else, you best be handling it,” Dyson barked.

  Derrick tried to calm down. “So ya’ll listen to them, without even hearing me out. This some bullshit, young.”

  “Whatever, nigga. You knew we’d be out here sooner or later. We let you fuck with them too long. Now I know you got a problem with answering to females, but your problem stops here. You take orders from them, the same way you did from us. Comprendè?”

  Derrick was mad.

  He felt like reaching in his jeans, and stuffing his 9mm in the same mouth Dyson had just pulled on that blunt with. But working in Emerald City was good money, and this type of shit came with the territory.

  So instead of shooting off, he listened.

  “Now this shit here requires teamwork. Me and the niggas know you handling your soldiers. But we won’t have a problem cutting you off if you can’t get with the program. The full program.”

  “I can get with it. But I don’t agree with how this is going down.”

  “And why you say that?” Dyson handed him the blunt and he refused.

  “I think ya’ll got shit messed up. I ain’t got no problem answering to anybody that’s filling my pockets. You can believe that! What I have a problem with is somebody trying to carry me in front of my soldiers. Do you know they had one of my workers come and get me while we were on the grind, because Critter said I ain’t give him a tester? What kind of bullshit is that?”

  “Well was it true?” Dyson asked, pulling on the last of his weed before putting it out.

  “I can’t remember, man.” Derrick lied, knowing full well he couldn’t stand Critter. “But even if it was true, that’s some bullshit to be calling somebody up on, don’t you think?”

  “Not necessarily. Critter may be a fiend, but he’s loyal to Emerald City. That’s why we keep him around and the girls realize that. Putting him on gives us an edge on some of these other projects around the way. That nigga know everybody, even the top officials from when he was in office.”

  “What office?” Derrick asked.

  “Government office. Critter used to b
e a public official in D.C. Everybody knows that shit. Although he fell off like most mothafuckas do in this game, some of his old friends keep in contact just so they can be put on to our dope. Plus, it was Critter who told us that Charles and them tried to get Carissa. If it wasn’t for him, we would’ve never known who those mothafuckas was.”

  So it was Critter’s ass who told them. He thought. I wondered how he found out. It don’t matter. They deserved to die for biting the hand that feeds them.

  Derrick took a deep breath and tried to blow out some tension. “It’s like this, Dyson, tell ‘em to ease off of me and I’ll ease off of them. I can’t run my camp if my soldiers think I’m soft.”

  “Cool. I’ll tell ‘em to stop sweating you ‘bout bullshit but you gotta do your part too.”

  When they finished, Derrick went back to work with Mercedes on his mind. As far as he was concerned, it was just a matter of time before they dealt with each other.

  Chapter 15

  Busted

  January, Wednesday, 10:37 a.m.

  Yvette

  I finally broke down and told my friends, everything that was going on between Thick and me.

  What messed me up was that most of them already seemed to know he was stepping out on me. They acted like it wasn’t even a surprise. Outside of having Kenyetta go check his truck, I hadn’t told anybody we were having problems.

  We were doing a stakeout and I had already seen enough to run up on him. But knowing Thick, he’d turn it around into something else unless I had proof. So with Mercedes’ digital camera, we were trying to get some good pictures of him taking her to Charlie Palmer’s Steakhouse in DC, and to the Shakespeare Theater.

  Yeah, he was really pulling out all stops for this bitch. But nothing hurt worse than seeing who he was dealing with. It was the same girl from the day of the funeral and Tiffany’s. I didn’t tell my friends, but I wondered if the rock she had on her finger was an engagement ring. Please, God, don’t let it be. I wanted to believe that he wouldn’t be crazy enough to propose to someone else over me but right now, I wasn’t sure of anything.