by Brick
Before I could finish, that yellow bitch smacked me so hard across the face that I saw flashes of me and Enzo from the night before. I screamed out and tried to lash out at her only to be reminded by the ties on my wrists that I was still stuck to a chair.
I scowled up at her, pissed as a wet cat. “Untie my hands and let’s see you pull that shit, bitch,” I dared her.
I didn’t like the girl. Didn’t like the fact that she was a treacherous cunt. For three weeks after Enzo and I had our last physical altercation, I had stayed with the Misfits. That whole time I walked on eggshells around that bitch. I told Ray-Ray that I didn’t trust that ho. While Trigga, Big Jake, and the rest of the Misfits knew exactly what I was talking about, Ray-Ray and Speedy seemed to give her the benefit of the doubt. I mean, I couldn’t blame Ray-Ray. After all, she had been best friends with the girl for most of her life. With Speedy, I could tell he was deep in his feelings for the girl, but the bitch was a traitor. I prayed when they killed her that she died as painfully as they could make it.
“Shut the fuck up,” she yelled at me.
“You all big and bad with my hands tied, ho. Let me catch my fade in a square up,” I lashed back out at her.
She smirked and then laid a hand on her slender hip with an exaggerated head tilt. “Bitch, I know you can’t fight. I remember all the little jokes and stories that nigga Trigga and Big Jake cracked on you about it.”
“You wanna take that bet and remove these ropes from my hands though?”
“Okay, silly little girls. Enough of the ring around the roses,” the other woman cut in. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and then cast a glance at us like we were little children squabbling over toys.
“Who you calling a silly little girl?” Dominique responded as if she had been offended by the woman’s offhand comment.
“You and the little Angel over there. We don’t have time for you two to be fighting over simple shit.”
“You’re the one who came in here to talk to her when Micah said not to.”
The woman shrugged. “I wanted to see the woman he mumbled about in his sleep at night.”
Dominique’s head jerked. “How the fuck you know what he’s mumbling in his sleep?”
The woman smiled like she knew something Dominique didn’t. “How do you think?”
For a brief moment both women stood there and stared one another down.
I had to laugh. “Seriously, you two hoes are really about to beef over this nigga Micah? I mean the dick was okay but it ain’t shit to fight over. You broads are basic.”
This time it was the woman who looked like Gina who smacked the color from my face. “You think just because you’ve been taught how to please a man in a whorehouse that you’re hot shit, huh? Yeah, Micah told me all the stories about how nasty you were,” she then said. “He told me you have a sick fetish for sucking dick and swallowing babies, too.”
My lips twitched as I looked up at her. “Yeah? Did he tell you how he made Gina do the same thing? Did he tell you he used to fuck both of us when we were just sixteen? Did that nigga tell you he was a child molester?” I yelled.
It finally hit me why the older woman looked so familiar to me. She was Gina’s mother. Had to be. I could have been wrong, but based on the stories Gina once told me and the eerie way the woman’s eyes seemed to convey the jealousy she had for her daughter, I knew I was right.
Dominique laughed. “So, it’s true. Micah told me about all you hoes,” she said as she cackled. “You, the old ho who won’t leave him alone.” She pointed to the woman. “And you, the young ho who won’t keep your legs or your mouth shut,” she finished, pointing to me. “I don’t get bitches like you.”
I could see I had tipped the scales in my favor and I was going to run with it. “And I don’t get why your dumb ass is even here. You’ve betrayed the wrong people. Trigga is going to—”
Before I could finish, her boot to my face rattled my brains.
“Fuck that retarded nigga too. For the life of me I can’t see what the fuck Ray-Ray sees in that wannabe thug. Nigga walks around like he’s the be-all and end-all. Like he can just quote some shit another nigga said and be king of something. Then again, Ray-Ray has always been in love with stupid niggas. Bitch thought her daddy was just like the best mafucker walking the planet. But I know something she don’t know,” Dominique sang as she circled me.
When she got behind me, she smacked me in the back of the head and I spit the blood from my mouth her kick to the face had given me.
“While her mama was busy sucking every other nigga’s dick she could find, I was fucking her daddy,” the bitch boasted.
“I guess a pimp will always recognize a prime breed ho when he sees one,” I taunted.
My reward was an open-handed smack to the side of my face from behind. If Enzo had taught me anything, it was the longer you kept your enemy talking, the more they could bury themselves. Just the thought of what could have been happening to him saddened me. All I remembered were gunshots and then my car crashing. I didn’t know how long I’d been gone or where I was.
“Shut the fuck up,” she yelled at me. “He may have known a ho when he saw one, that’s for sure. Why else would the dumb motherfucker give his daughter over to a nigga like Dame?” Dominique was laughing like she was just as demented as that nigga Micah. “But you know what? And I’m going to tell you this because you won’t live to tell about it. I’m the reason Dame knew who stole his shit. That’s right, it was me. I was spending the night at Ray-Ray’s house the night those stupid parents of hers came home high off the lick they’d just hit. Ray-Ray was asleep and I’d gone to take a piss. I heard everything. Dumb asses. I knew Dame would pay top dollar for the information and he did. And, I got to fuck one of the tops dogs of ATL’s underworld.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Bitch, you sold your best friend’s parents out for a few dollars and some dick? You the lowest kinda ho-ass bitch the hood can have. What kind of fuck shit is this?” In the end you can’t even trust yourself. No truer had Enzo’s words ever rung than they had in that moment.
“It wasn’t about the money or the dick, although both were damn good,” she started.
“Bitch, I’ve fucked Dame plenty of times and that dick ain’t used for pleasure unless he wanted it to be; and, just by looking at you, I can tell he fucked you like the monkey bitch you are.”
What I’d said was true. That nigga Dame didn’t use his dick for pleasure unless he felt you were worth it. There was only one time Dame used his dick to make sure I felt pleasure and I used that shit to my advantage. I didn’t work for a whole week because I made sure he remembered it. Even still, when he felt he was done with me he went right back to using his dick as a weapon to make sure I knew my place. So I knew without a doubt that he didn’t give the treacherous bitch in front of me any pleasure.
It seemed as if the more I gave her the version of the truth she didn’t want to hear, the angrier she became. That bitch kicked over the chair I was sitting in, with a loud yell as she did so. I hit the wet wooden floor hard. The chair scooted across the floor a bit and I could feel the splinters in my face.
“You’re wasting time trying to fight this girl about dumb shit,” the other woman finally spoke up. “Micah is going to fuck you up if you mess something up before he gets back and gets to interrogate this little girl.”
The fact that she used the word “interrogate” told me she knew more about Micah than Dominique.
Make a nigga keep talking and he’ll reveal his hand without you even having to ask. Enzo was all in my fucking head so I held on to the hope that he was still alive. That he was okay.
“He’s going to kill you too, you know,” I said as the burning sensations in my side and face intensified.
She knew who I was talking about, because she kneeled down to look me in the eyes. “No, he won’t. I know too much,” she arrogantly said.
Although there was a smile on her face and
she stroked my head as if she was a caring mother, I didn’t trust a bitch who would put her own daughter out on the streets.
“Why do you think he wants to kill me?” I asked. I couldn’t stop the tears rolling down my cheeks. I wasn’t crying, but I wanted her to think I was.
“Because you chose to run with a little boy, a criminal who he wants off the street.”
“Is that what he told you? And you believe it? He wants me dead because I know too much, just like you do. I know where the bodies are hidden. I know the criminals he’s looking into. I know too much! I know about his sexual assault against underage girls, including your daughter.”
I had never been slapped, kicked, and punched so many times in less than ten minutes than I was locked in that abandoned house with two women who both felt they had something to prove. The older woman slapped my face then stood and kicked me so hard in my chest, I felt as if it caved in. I would have sworn to God she had crushed my chest cavity with the way fire had started to gather in my chest. I coughed and gagged when her thick-soled boot connected with my stomach. Obviously she hated to hear that Micah had screwed her daughter. I didn’t understand the secret to her anger, because I knew she didn’t give a fuck about Gina.
For the next several minutes I lay there while they beat and kicked me to their hearts’ desire. All the while neither of them paid attention to the fact that my hands were coming unraveled, nor were they paying attention to the rod I had picked up in my hand. Once they were satisfied with the damage that had been done to me, they stood back and admired their handy work. Internally, I laughed. It hurt too much to laugh outwardly. They’d worked me over.
“That’s enough. We don’t want to kill the bitch before Micah has a chance to,” Gina’s mom told Dominique.
“Nobody would miss this broad if we did,” she responded. “She’s just a stripping whore.”
I let them get their insults in until I was sure my hands were undone and I had a good grasp on the stick-like object.
“You forgot one thing,” I said to them, pretending as if I was too hurt to speak any louder. “I’m a stripper, so I do my best work while naked.”
Before they could grasp the concept of what I was saying, I brought the stick around like I was going for that MVP in an MLB all-star game again and knocked Gina’s mom’s legs from under her. I didn’t have a whole lot of in-between time so when she fell, I kicked Dominique’s legs, hopped up, and brought the stick down on Gina’s mom’s head. Her screams and yells serenaded me until the knock upside her head silenced her. I silently prayed that Gina wouldn’t hold it against me and then moved my attention back to the Ciara-looking bitch trying to get back on her feet.
My chest hurt, titties ached, and whole damn face was on fire. I was going to hit that bitch in the back of the head and just be done. But I wanted her to see me coming. So I stood there, naked as the day I was born, and waited for that ho to turn around.
“Square up, bitch,” I demanded of her. She held her hands up and backed away, but I wouldn’t let her get away that easily. “Naw, bitch, you talked big shit when I was tied up and couldn’t fight back,” I goaded her.
That lanky bitch took a fighter’s stance and I went in on her. No, I wasn’t the best fighter, but I had been trained by the best, a group of Hood Misfits and a nigga named Enzo whose mama was an African Queen. I let that bitch Dominique have it. I dropped the rod and a flurry of punches ate away at her face as my foot connected with her pussy. That one was for Gina and Ray-Ray. Sour pussy bitch. She scratched at my face and tried to grab my hair, but I was the better aggressor. I mopped the floor with that bitch then picked up the rod to finish what I’d started. I beat her until she was unconscious.
I felt like I had won a marathon; and, for good measure, I walked back over to Gina’s mom as she moaned out on the floor, and I beat that bitch some more too. The African Queens had taught me about sisterhood and the cold-blooded bitches on the floor knew about none of that.
A slow round of applause had me snapping around, stick up at the ready, until I saw the woman coming around the corner.
“How . . . What . . . How did you find me?” I asked her.
“The phone Shawn gave you has a tracker. When I’d heard nothing from either of you after several hours, I had to invade your privacy,” she answered.
“You were here this whole time?”
She shook her head. “No, but I’ve been here long enough to know that the decision we all made this morning was the right one.”
I couldn’t even say anything else. She looked me over and then looked behind her. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Mirror there with her. He didn’t look at my naked body for too long. Just pulled his long trench coat off and handed it to me.
I felt a bit of hope and for the first time I realized I was cold and shivering.
“You look like a bloody madwoman, but I now see why the decision was made,” Mirror told me.
I was sure I did look possessed or something. Blood dripped from my lips, ears, and nose. Felt like some of my ribs had been cracked, and any time I coughed my insides went ablaze. Still, all I could think about was Enzo.
“Shawn?” I asked.
“What about him?” Shy asked me as she walked over to wrap an arm around me.
“Where is he? If there is a tracker on our phones—”
“On your phone,” she corrected me. “He knew there was a possibility that Micah would try some underhanded shit. So only your phone has a tracker.”
“So where the fuck is he?” I asked in a panic.
“Shawn is about his father’s business.”
I was confused. His father was dead and, furthermore, Enzo didn’t want anything to do with the man. “Huh?”
“He met with his grandfather for a reason. He told me this morning that he was tired of looking over his shoulder. He’s doing something about it. Now, you come home so we can get you healed up and then we turn you in to the police.”
Chapter 12
Shy
They say strength is determined by character. I say it is that, but it is also perseverance. I currently stood in a small, damp, dingy, and rancid-smelling room, with two THOTs sprawled out near my feet. Behind me was my protector and supporter, and to the right of me was a young princess on her way to being a queen. Angel had worked over the two women before me and had shown them the ass they were eager to see. It amused me and gave me a small amount of joy. A scowl danced on my face while I stared down with knitted brows at the broads who were assisting in bringing pain to my son and those in his world.
It was disgusting to see these two disrespect the very core that made up a woman. There was no unity between the pair; I had heard that as I rounded the corner. These bitches were only out for themselves and that was a recipe for discord, distinction, and disaster. Which to me was a dishonor. However, I understood kismet and karma and right now, though it was a little out of order, everything was happening for a reason.
Kneeling down, I took my cell phone and took a picture of each woman. I sent it directly by a secure, protected method to a man I knew would have use for this. I also sent a text to another man I detested with every inch of me. These two skeetrats would serve a bigger purpose and help in the overall game. So, I traced each one’s face, and snatched the crown of the older one and slammed her head down hard on the concrete floor repeatedly, pausing only to check her pulse and see if she had been knocked out. Shifting to the side, I did the same with the younger trick and stood up slowly with a wipe of my hands on their bodies.
An immense pain ricocheted throughout my body with each breath I took. Shards of piercing agony ripped through me and had me slightly dizzy. It had me gripping the wall before me as a momentary anchor then turning to stare directly into the eyes of my protection. Back at the hospice, I was presented with no choice but to go through the surgery to correct the cancer that was eating away at my body. There was no sure way to determine right now if it all had been cleared out, but
I had faith that the follow-up test would show something positive. If not, I was content right now in walking through the medium of death, especially since I had bailed out on my recovery time. I did not have time to be laid up, not with my sons needing my support and resources.
“If you do not tell me that you are okay, we will have a bloody problem,” Mirror muttered low near my side.
A faint smile played at the corners of my lips. I wanted to touch him, but too many eyes and ears were around us. “I’m okay. Can you take Angel out of here? But not far. You two need to be close enough to listen but far enough to be hidden.”
Mirror raised a brow while thumbing his nose and glancing up and down at me. I swore he gave a grunt, and it made me chuckle; however, he backed away and nodded in respect.
“Trust me, you can put all the makeup on you to change your looks, but I’d rather keep you totally hidden so you can work how you do,” I explained.
Mirror adjusted his hood and shades. He sported a black houndstooth scarf that wrapped around his mouth and nose, and an all-black outfit that fit the curves of his muscled frame perfectly. At his side was a long silver chain that connected to the black Rottweiler he had brought with him to torment his prey. “I trust you, especially your mind. What would you have me do with these two righteous cunts?”
Observing the dog sitting in wait at Mirror’s feet, I watched her ears perk up and I noticed Angel watching from the doorway. “String them up. Strip them to their underwear. Unlike them, I get no pleasure from seeing pussy unless it’s done artfully. And check their clothes for trackers. Angel, honey, pick whatever pieces of clothes of theirs that you can fit into and go with Mirror. You both need to move fast. I have a mini meeting to take care of, and then we are handling business as discussed.”
I turned on my heels and picked up the chair Angel had just previously sat in. Unwrapping my shawl, I set it down on the chair, then took a seat myself, observing Mirror do his thing while Angel quickly pulled on clothes and took the young girl’s boots. She gave a flash of a smirk and glanced around as if looking for something, but instead settled for stomping them both.