Me and My Hittas

by Tranay Adams

  “Alright, Booby, Y’all done wore momma out; I’m finna head to bed now.” G-momma pecked her youngest grandson and caressed the side of his face lovingly. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, momma.” Pavielle said from the arm of the couch, drinking from the bottle of Rose. “I love you too, momma.” Neck Bone snickered, mocking his homeboy from the floor, where he was slow dancing with a sexy brown skinned number from 30 Piru. Pavielle gave his goofy ass homeboy the finger. Neck Bone laughed and cuffed his dance partner’s fat, juicy ass.

  “Aye, fool, help momma to her room.” Pavielle told Gouch, who was at the opposite end of the couch. He had a hood rat from around the way on his lap and a clear plastic cup of Hennessy in his hand. He was faded than a mothafucka, eyes red webbed and hooded.

  “Aye, raise up, I gotta help my momma to bed.” Gouch told homegirl occupying his lap. Once she got up, he hooked his arm with G-momma’s and led her toward her bedroom. “Right this way, madam.” He cracked a smile and so did she.

  “Oh, y’all outta here?” Pavielle asked Black Jesus, seeing Tango push him towards the door with Bullet bringing up the rear.

  “Yeah, I’m calling it a night,” Black Jesus replied, giving him a pound. “I have a lot of business to attend to in the morning. Being a business man yourself, I’m sure you understand.”

  Pavielle nodded his head. “Alright fam, hit me when you make it home so I’ll know you got in safe.” he patted the pretty boy kingpin on the shoulder. He then gave Bullet a pound and a hug. “Alright, my nigga, take care of my boy now.” he told him before giving Tango a nod; the Dominican bodyguard returned the gesture. Although Tango hadn’t done anything to him personally, it was something about the old Spanish gangster that didn’t quite sit right with him.

  After seeing that Black Jesus and his entourage made it into their ride and off the block, Pavielle wandered around the house looking for the future Mrs. Hood.

  “Yo, Ridah Man, you seen my old lady?” He stuck his head into the kitchen, where he saw his crimey pouring himself a drink as he chopped it up with a few of the homies and some females from Westside 20s.

  “Yeah, she went to the back with that nigga Bully.” Ridah Man answered, not thinking anything of it. Although his answer struck a chord in Pavielle and jealous reared its ugly head, he took a long drink from his bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his fist. Next, he burped and stormed into the corridor, where the bedrooms lined the hall.

  *** “You think Booby will like it?” Bully asked Vayda as she looked over the painting he had did as a gift for Pavielle; the two of them were in the bedroom where all of the gifts were.

  Vayda seemed to be amazed by all of the talent that the muscle bound hoodlum possessed. At first she just figured him to be your typical gangbanging ass street nigga, but now she felt that she had the O.G pegged all wrong.

  “Oh, he’ll just love it,” Vayda assured him. “This looks just like him and Gouch when they were little. You captured their parents well, too. Your painting looks so life like.”

  “Thanks. G -momma gave me a picture of them. It was kind of mangled, so I had to work with it. You think you can help me wrap it up?”

  “Sure, I’ve got some wrapping paper leftover from earlier inthe closet.” She told him, handing over the painting and making a move for the closet.

  *** Unbeknownst to Vayda and Bully, Pavielle was outside the bedroom door with his ear pressed up against it, listening in. Only he wasn’t hearing the conversation they were having about the painting. Nah, see the combination of weed and alcohol had him so delusional that he actually believed he was hearing the moans of his lover as she was being pleasured. The young kingpin’s face twisted into a mask of murder as he continued to listen to the sexual encounter his mental had conjured up. He snarled and gripped his bottle of Rose so tight that it cracked at the neck, traveling down the length of it. No longer able to tame his jealousy, Pavielle took a step back and kicked the door with all of his might.

  Boom! The door flew open, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere. Vayda and Bully were startled and confused, they didn’t know what the fuck was going on. Pavielle came charging in with murder on his mind, he threw his bottle of Rose at Vayda’s head and she evaded it. The bottle shattered into pieces against the wall. The alcohol that it contained ran down the wall and soaked into the carpet.

  “You fucking this nigga at my party?” Pavielle roared with a pair of dangerous eyes. Before the redbone could plead her case, her face met the opened hand palm of her enraged lover. The smack was so vicious that it whipped her head around and echoed out into the hall, grasping all of the guests’ attention. A frowning Bully could have sworn he saw sparks fly from her cheek.

  Vayda hit the bed and rolled off onto the floor, holding her redden hand imprinted jaw and sobbing her eyes out, hot tears flooding her cheeks. Pavielle stood like a wild beast in the jungle, staring down at Vayda, his chest rising and falling as he breathed hard. He stayed focused on her, looking down at her like she’d lost her goddamn mind.

  “Blood , what the fuck is your problem?” Bully’s forehead wrinkled with lines. “We weren’t in here doing nothing, we still got our…”

  “Fuck you nigga!” Pavielle roar ed, cutting him off. In a flash his black .9mm was up and off of his waist. He fired a round through his big homie’s thigh causing him to clench his teeth. The muscle head nigga dropped to his knees, clutching his thigh and making blood seep in between his fingers.

  “Ah, fuck! Sssssss!”Bully writhered in agony, biting down on his bottom lip to fight back the fire burning in his thigh. He’d been gangbanging all of thirty three years and shot more enemies than he could count on both hands, but tonight he finally got a taste of his own medicine. Hot lead!

  While Bully grimaced in pain, Pavielle pressed his head bussa into his forehead and applied pressure to the trigger, mad dogging him and biting down on his inner jaw. Gouch grabbed his baby brother by the wrist and threw his arm up, just as the gun went off. The bullet married the ceiling and debris trickled down. Everyone crowding the hall and looking inside hollered. The sound of the weapon was unexpected and startled them.

  “What the fuck is your problem, man?” Gouch snarled, snatching the .9mm from his grasp and shoving him into the wall. Right then, Pavielle came back to the present, blinking his eyes, looking like he’d suddenly been shaken up from his sleep. His head snapped to the doorway and he found his guests there, staring at him like a patient that had just escaped from an insane asylum. That’s when the reality of what he had done hit him and he brought his hands down his face, taking a deep breath.

  “We weren’t in her fucking, Blood; on the set!” Bully swore between groans of pain. “Ahhh! Sssss! Sssss! Shiettt! I got too much love for you to play you like that, Booby. I was just showing her the gift I made you. She was going to help me wrap it up.” He looked to Gouch and threw his head toward the present. “Check it out.”

  Gouch picked the painting up from the floor and looked overit, cracking a grin at what he was seeing. “He ain’t lying, bro. It’s a painting of me, you, moms and pops.” He turned the painting into Pavielle’s direction. Staring at the painting, Pavielle felt like a real jack-ass for what he had did to Bully. All he could do was look at him writhering in agony while clutching his bleeding thigh.

  “Didn’t you s ee we still had our clothes on when you busted in here?” Bully inquired, his face displaying all of the pain he was feeling. Pavielle nodded yes and helped his big homie up to his feet.

  “Ridah Man, Neck Bone,” Gouch called for his homeboys. “Y’all two niggaz take O.G up to general hospital, Blood.” The homies retrieved Bully from Pavielle and left to do as theywere instructed. “Alright, y’all the party is over, you don’t have to go home but chu gotta get the fuck outta here!” He told the guests. With that said, all of the guests made their way back up front.

  “Gucci,” G-momma called out from the other bedroom. “Is everything alright out there?”
“Yes, momma, we’re just out here cleaning up,” Gouch spat the lie as soon as he brainstormed it. “Go back to sleep.” He turned to his little brother, pointing his long, crooked finger in his face. “I should kick your black ass, nigga, gone and go check on your girl!” He ordered, throwing his head towards the door.

  “I love you, Gucci,” Pavielle proclaimed with a drunken slur. Gouch blew hard and brought a hand down his face, massaging the bridge of his nose. He looked at his baby brother, grinned and shook his head. “I love you too, you stupid mothafucka. Come here.” He opened his arms and Pavielle gave him a brotherly hug. The killer pecked his younger sibling on the cheek and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Gone and get your ass in there with your lady, man. I’m a make sure all of these mothafuckaz done cleared the house.”

  “Alright, Gucci, I’m sorry, ma n. I’m sorry,” Pavielle slurred, his eyes boisted moisture and sadness. Gouch nodded his head and headed out of the door. “I love you, man!” he called out after his big brother as he disappeared into the hall. Crossing the threshold he took in all of the faces of the people who were looking at him crazy. “Fuck y’all looking at?” he mad dogged them. Some of them turned their heads while others allowed their eyes to linger on them before sighing and keeping it moving.

  *** Vayda stood before the bathroom mirror sobbing, as she gave herself a once over. The left side of her face was swollen and bruised. Although the side of her face was sore and throbbing, she was more so hurt that Pavielle had the audacity to put his hands on her. She knew from her previous relationship that if a man put his hands on you once, more than likely history would repeat itself. Pavielle stood in the doorway watching the love of his life weep, her pain tortured his soul. He couldn’t believe he put his hands on her and he wished that he could go back in time and change everything. It was far too late though, because the damage was done.

  Pavielle wished that somehow he could take her suffering away and bear the burden himself. Seeing his boo in her current state made him glassy eyed. He bowed his head and before he knew it the tears had came, dripping from the rims of his eyelids like droplets from a broken faucet. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his eyes with the back of his shirt’s sleeve and sniffled. Afterwards he cleared his throat and pulled himself together before approaching her.

  He came from behind her planting soft kisses on her neck and collarbone. She shut her eyelids enjoying the feeling of his tantalizing touch, but wanting him to stop. She was confused. Her body was screaming yes, yes, yes but her mind was saying Don’t let this nigga touch you after what he did. Although she tried to fight it she was finding herself falling weak. Vayda pleaded for Pavielle to stop, but her pleas became moans of pleasure, as he kept at it. He slid his hand down to her crotch, unzipped her jeans, and gliding two of his fingers inside of her. She gasped as soon as his fingers pierce the opening of her treasure. Licking and sucking on her earlobe, he worked his fingers in and out of her warm, moist pussy.

  “Ahhh! Ssssss! Mmmm,” With her e yelids still shut, Vayda threw her head back, allowing underneath her chin to be exposed. Abruptly, she grabbed a hold of the back of his neck and propped her leg upon the commode, wanting his fingers deeper inside of her. She grinded on his hand, looking like she was dancing provactively like those dread lock rocking broads at Jamaican clubs.Pavielle’s fingers felt so good in her that she was too choked up to let out a moan. Her grip tightened around his neck and her knees buckled. Still, she continued to grind upon his hand like it was a dick. Sensing she was about to explode and spray the bathroom with her love nectar, Pavielle removed his fingers and turned her around to face him. He traced her lips with his glistening finger and then pierced them, allowing her to suck on it. She grabbed him by his wrist and stared into eyes, sucking on each one of his fingers. Her head movements looking like she was giving him a blow job. He mumbled something freaky under his breath, feeling his dick become engorged with the rush of his blood. His mushrum tip ballooned and pulsated, dying to be inside of her tightness. The sound of her juicy mouth working his fingers had him bone hard. In a hurry, he stripped her naked, hoisted her around his waist and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her on her back and parted her legs, leaving him face to face with her fat, shaved pussy. That mothafucka was jumping like it had a heart and oozing with her clear, hot liquid.

  Pavielle was a pro at sex; he had a tongue game that rivaled his dick game. And on some nights the two had a chance to compete for which was the best at what they did. He went to work,nibbling and sucking on Vayda’s clit. The Creole goddess raised her pelvis from the bed and brought herself closer to his mouth. He stared her dead in her eyes as he feasted upon that small flap of meat nestled between her southern lips; before he knew it she was walking the sheets and whining, asking him what he was doing to her? He ignored her question and pinned her legs down to keep her still. About ten minutes later Vayda unleashed a shrill of pleasure loud enough to disturb the dead and awake the deaf. That night she had four orgasms, coming harder than she had ever come in her entire life. Pavielle’s sheets were so soaked that they had to sleep on the floor.

  *** Pavielle awoke the next morning and discovered Vayda was gone. On the pillow beside him, where she was lying on the floor, was an envelope with his name on it. Frowning, he snatched it up and ripped it open hastily. He tilted the envelope over into his palm and the engagement ring he had purchased her slid out, along with a note. When he saw these items his heart skipped a beat and he feared the worse. Swallowing spit, he sat the engagement ring on the dresser and unfolded the note, his eyes quickly scanning over it. It simply read, ‘We weren’t meant to be in this life, but maybe we’ll be destined to in the next’. Glassy eyed, he reached over his head and picked up the Bic lighter on the dresser. He struck a flame and set the note a blaze, observing it writhering and blackening at one end. He turned the burning note to the side, watching the fire devour its being. Once the flames began to work their way up near his fingers, he tossed the piece of paper into the waste basket. He watched the flames rise from the waste basket, as tears slicked his cheeks and a golden illumination shone on his face.

  *** Pavielle sat in the La-Z-Boy Reclining chair in the den; chain smoking and singing along to R.Kelly’s When a Woman’s fed up. The den was so foggy from smoke that he could barely be seen within it. He was wearing a stained wife beater, gray boxer briefs, which where stained yellow at the crotch and brown at the ass. He hadn’t bathe in a while and was stanking like something awful. His cornrows were frizzy and unkempt. His eyes were red webbed and there were thick, black bags under them. And on top of that he had grown a five o’clock shadow.He was a hot ass mess since his lady had left him.

  A week had passed and he had yet to hear from Vayda. He wanted so desperately to call her and beg her to come back, but the G in him wouldn’t allow it. The way he saw it, pleading for a bitch to come back was for lames and simps. He had no intentions on giving in to that little voice in the back of his head. So for now, he was going to listen to heartbreak music, smoke, and drown his sorrows in hard liquor. Afterwards he was going to fuck as many bitches as humanly possible until he finally got Vayda Denise Perry out of his system.

  G-momma came into the den coughing and spraying Glad Airfreshener. “Booby, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you and Gucci about smoking in this house. It’s like the older y’all get the least you two listen to me. Y’all know better. Now put that out, I wanna talk to you.” She turned off the stereo system, pulled up a chair beside her youngest grandson and sat down. Seeing that he was still taking pulls of the cigarette, she shot him a dirty look. Without protest, he mashed out the Newport in the ashtray, snuffing out its ember end. Next, he reached on the side of the La-Z-Boy and grabbed half a bottle of Jack Daniels. He screwed the cap off and just as he was about to take a drink, G-momma snatched the bottle from his hand causing lines to appear across his forehead.

  “Ah, come on, momma!” Pavielle whined, throwing his arms in the air like a field goal was
good. He was irritated and wanted to be left alone to sulk and listen to his music.

  “ Ah, come on momma nothing!” She told him, screwing the cap back on the little bottle of Jack Daniels and then shoving it into her house coat’s pocket. “I’ve been seeing you walking around her moping and smelling like God knows what for a week. That’s not gonna get that girl back. You do want her back don’t you?” he shrugged his shoulders. “You can save that tough guy act for the streets, ‘cause grand momma knows you better than anyone else. Better than yourself, even. Listen, Booby, if you want something bad enough you’ve got to get out there and get it. It’s not going to come to you. And if you sit around waiting for it to come around to you, then somebody will come along and take it for themselves.” She caught Pavielle looking away as if he wasn’t trying to hear her, so she took him by the face and looked him in the eyes. Wetness accumulated in his eyes and his hurt came running down his cheeks. His reddened nostrils flared and he sniffled, breathing hard. His heart was aching and he wanted his woman like he wanted his next breath. It was just like his grand mother had figured. He wanted the love of his life back. “Remember this…anything in this world worth having is worth fighting for. I don’t care if it’s a promotion on your job, custody of your children, or the love of a good woman. If you want it, I mean, if you really want it, then you’ve got to get out there and fight for it. Trust me; you don’t wanna wake up every day wondering what could have been if you only would have done something. Take advantage.” They embraced and he sobbed into her bosoms like he did when he was a little boy and something had happened to him. She kissed him on the cheek and held him a while longer, caressing his back trying to make him feel better. When she pulled away she grasped both of his hands and looked into his eyes. She told him to go out there and get his queen before taking her leave.