by AP Jermaine
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ISBN: 9781543946628
“TRAPNIGHTS”
THE UNTOLD TRUTH
COKE, CRACK, PILLS, WEED, LEAN, EX, MOLLY… TRAPSTAR, TRAPBOY, TRAPKING, TRAPHOUSE, TRAP OR DIE…FINALLY! THE ONE YOU’VE BEEN WAITING ON! EVERYTHING YOU’VE EVER WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT “THE TRAP.” AND THE ONES WHO LIVE IT EVERY DAY. WELCOME TO DURHAM. AND BARE WITNESS, TO THE CRITICALLY ACCLAIMED, HEART-POUNDING INTERNATIONAL URBAN PHENOMENON! “TRAPNIGHTS” THE UNTOLD TRUTH. TAKE A NEVER ENDIND JOURNEY. KNEE DEEP INTO THE HEART; OF THE WICKED, MERCILESS, AND UNFORGIVING STREETS OF DURHAM. ALSO, MORE INFAMOUSLY KNOWN, AS “THE BULL CITY.” THE UNCONTESTED, UNDISPUTED; SEX, DRUGS, AND MURDER, GRANDDADDY; OF NORTH CAROLINA. AND ALSO, HOME TO THE INFAMOUSLY MOST HATED, “DUKE BLUE DEVILS.” BUT PLEASE, DO NOT BE FOOLED BY THE UNIVERSITIES PREPPY EXTERIOR. THE CITY IN WHICH IT RESIDES, IS ONE IN WHICH SEX, DRUGS, AND MONEY; COLLIDE HEAD ON EVERY DAY; WITH HATE, BETRAYAL, AND REVENGE. THIS IS NOT URBAN FICTION. THIS IS URBAN FACT. SO, PREPARE YOURSELF FOR A REVELATION. YOU’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING QUITE LIKE THIS. THE UNTOLD TRUTH.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 “Banks”
Chapter 2 “Home”
Chapter 3 Tamia
Chapter 4 “Say What?”
Chapter 5 “Shell”
Chapter 6 “Tika”
Chapter 7 “Fletch”
Chapter 8 “The Jungle”
Chapter 9 “BLOW”
Chapter10 “Grinding”
Chapter 11 “Mama”
Chapter 12 “THE MAC”
Chapter 13 “TRAPNIGHTS”
Chapter 14 “The Dope Dick”
Chapter 15 “Latonya”
Chapter 16 “Disappearing Acts”
Chapter 17 “Monique”
Chapter 18 “New Pussy”
Chapter 19 “GoodFella”
Chapter 20 “Latifah”
Chapter 21 “Ride or Die Chicks”
Chapter 22 “Sob Story”
Chapter 23 “The Jumpoff”
Chapter 24 “Playa Hater$”
Chapter 25 “Payback”
Chapter 26 “Hunger”
Chapter 27 “Diamonds”
Chapter 28 “Into the Fire”
Chapter 29 “Pretty Toes”
Chapter 30 “Daddy Longstroke”
Chapter 31 “Young Pussy”
Chapter 32 “Real Talk”
Chapter 33 “A New Day”
Chapter 34 “AZAR”
Chapter 35 “Mr. DopeMan”
Chapter 36 “Easy Money”
Chapter 37 “Puppy Love”
Chapter 38 “Big Daddy”
Chapter 39 “Businessman”
Chapter 40 “Dirty Money”
Chapter 41 “The Duty”
Chapter 42 “Taken”
Chapter 43 “Warm Vanilla Sugar”
Chapter 44 “Who Did What?”
Chapter 45 “Truth Be Told”
Chapter 46 “All Falls Down”
Chapter 47 “Connected”
Chapter 48 “Against All Odds”
Chapter 49 “Tell Me”
Chapter 50 “Pipe Talk”
Chapter 51 “My Brother’s Keeper”
Chapter 52 “Dogs and Cats”
Chapter 53 “The Crossover”
Chapter 54 “Mishka”
Chapter 55 “Bubba”
Chapter 56 “Oh Boy”
Chapter 57 “Black Magic”
Chapter 58 “Indecent Proposal”
Chapter 59 “Mr. Scarface”
Chapter 60 “The Clapper”
Chapter 61 “The Trap”
Chapter 62 “The Key”
Chapter 63 “Trap Junky”
Chapter 64 “Official”
Chapter 65 “Chief”
Chapter 66 “Olivia”
Chapter 67 “Another Level”
Chapter 68 “Cookie”
Chapter 69 “Dania”
Chapter 70 “Feeling It”
Chapter 71 “Two Faces”
Chapter 72 “Unplugged”
Chapter 73 “The Sweetest Joy”
Chapter 74 “Throwback Love”
Chapter 75 “All Revealed”
Chapter 76 “The Unveiling”
Chapter 77 “The Untold Truth”
Chapter 78 “The Aftermath”
Chapter 1 “Banks”
“You’ll be back. It’s only a matter of when,” the redneck, tobacco chewing sergeant smirked as he reluctantly unlocked the gates to my freedom. For as long as I’d known him, he’d always taken pleasure in blatantly flaunting his racist views against people of color.
“Your mama will have a bed up in here before you see me again bitch.” I shot back defiantly as I slid through the gate and headed for the car that awaited me in the parking lot. Opening the passenger side door, I tossed my bags into the back seat before sliding into the car beside my wifey. Before we go any further, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Theodore Banks, more widely known as “Banks.” Although most of my lady friends call me Teddy. Today is my first day out, after being incarcerated for the last four years in the North Carolina Department of Corrections for Second Degree Murder. My original sentence of sixteen to twenty years was only recently reduced to four, thanks to some hard - earned drug money, a greedy ass District Attorney, and one helleva fuckin lawyer. Being that North Carolina has no self-defense laws, the only possible help I could receive after the filing of a Motion for Appropriate release by my attorney, was to reduce the charge to Voluntary Manslaughter, and have me re-sentenced in the mitigated range. And now I’m free! Me and my wifey about to go do some serious fucking! Look at that thick, chocolate motherfucker right there. She loves a nigga too.
“Damn baby can a girl get some love?” My wifey cooed,
leaning in to embrace me as if reading my thoughts.
“Shit girl, you know you got a whole lot more than some love coming,” I smiled as I squeezed one of her milk chocolate brown titties through her Baby Phat t-shirt and slid my tongue in her mouth.
“Oooh baby! You gone make me cum before we leave the parking lot!” She panted with unmistakable hunger in her eyes. Turning in my seat, I noticed the dick head sergeant still standing out front. Watching me. Deciding to give him something to remember me by, I rolled the tinted window down just enough to get my arm out, and shot up my middle finger just as we pulled away. Time was wasting.
Chapter 2 “Home”
The Tobacco Roadhouse, more commonly known as “The Tobacco,” was the new hot night spot in Durham, N.C. The city more infamously known as “The Bull City.” The club had been packing the house since its opening seven months prior, and the fact that in that time no one had been stabbed, shot, or murdered; the spot had already beaten the odds. Normally clubs in the Bull City would stay open no more than three or four months, tops, before somebody ended up with their shit pushed back and the spot would have to shut down. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to The Bull City. The Bull City of Durham is the unchallenged, unmatched, cocaine, heroin, and murder capital of North Carolina. Think “The Wire” times fifty! I made my way through the large crowd of party goers on my way to the bar, I spotted a few cats that I knew were holding what some would call “old paper.” A few cats that I knew were up and coming in the game before I got locked four years ago, looked as if they’d finally succeeded in getting their paper up. For a cat like me it was pretty
easy to recognize who’d actually elevated their status, by the number of loose booty chics they had in their midst, giggling and laughing at any stale ass joke the nigga might be telling, while all the while keeping their main focus on trying to juice the nigga outta money or free drinks. Don’t rule out simply trying to straight up sell some pussy. The Untold Truth. Money always draws pussy. Like bees to honey, the two just go together. The selection of chics in the club that night was actually pretty decent. Of course, I peeped your overweight baby mama types hanging around here and there. These are the ones that act as if they don’t realize that the outfit they’re wearing is two sizes too small, with shit hanging out everywhere but the right places. These chics are usually good for a cheap after the club fuck and some smoking head, but you always park around the corner from her crib, and make sure to slide out before daybreak so nobody knows you were there. Trust me, she won’t trip. As long as she gets fucked and doesn’t have to fall asleep drunk with a wet pussy, she’s more than satisfied. The Untold Truth. Of course, on these occasions, you also know not to show up your pistol with you. Just in case baby daddy shows up while his baby mamas got your balls stuffed in her mouth. As I continued my survey of the club, I also saw a lot of your “wanna be cute but aint got no money” chics. The best thing they got going for them is a cute face and a phat ass, which they use in any way that they can. Unlike the baby mama broads though, the wanna be cute bitches had on form fitting outfits made by Prada, Gucci, Fendi, or anything else that was supposed to make them look “high priced.” Their clothes fit them perfectly although they might be “bootleg,” and the probability that they’d had to suck dick, get fucked, or anything else to buy a hot outfit for club night on Saturday, was extremely high. Real talk. If the shoe doesn’t fit you, then don’t put the motherfucker on. But for those of you that it does, you know who you are. And I damn sure ain’t mad at cha. Get yo money girl. Next up, I see some of your, right on point chics; scattered around here and there. These are the ones most cats refer to, as “dimes.” Their beautiful faces, plump breasts, freshly done hair, apple bottom asses and perfectly manicured fingers and toes, make them an exception to the rule. And, they make niggas wanna spend money. But don’t forget to keep in mind at the same time, that if a chic is that damn sexy, is over the age of twenty - five and still doesn’t have no man, chances are she’s either a drama queen, or she’s psycho as a motherfucker! But who gives a fuck? She’s a dime! Before my four - year incarceration, I probably would have stepped up in the club, had four or five double shots of Hennessy and been out the door with one of these dimes. Prison had opened my eyes to some shit though. I’d made up my mind to leave the bullshit alone. I know this shit aint gonna be easy. I’m street bred and street fed so I know the streets is gonna be calling my name at every corner. But I refuse to be a slave for the system again. I was supposed to be gone for at least sixteen years, and my wifey had vowed that she was gonna ride or die with a nigga. Whether she would have, I guess I’ll never know. And I’m glad! She definitely rode hard for the four years though, without knowing that I’d be giving a lot of that sixteen back. And now, unexpectedly to everyone, including her, I’m back home.
Chapter 3 Tamia
Being out of prison was the best feeling I’ve ever experienced. No more count times and mail calls, no more perverts and baby rapers, gone are the fake thugs and “on accident killers.” All that bullshit wears down on a nigga. It makes you ask yourself, was it really worth it? Hell, motherfucking no! No amount of money could replace the years taken out of my life. Living in a cage aint no kinda life for nobody. My plan is to take the paper I got left, and go legit. Once you get legit paper on your side, them motherfuckers in blue can go kiss somebody’s ass. It’s the only way to remove yourself from the huge conspiracy to enslave and oppress, because that’s all prison really is; organized slavery. If anybody tells you any different, then they’re either blind, or just stupid. Tell em to read the fine print and stop looking at the pictures. I hadn’t really decided on exactly what I was going to invest in, although I was leaning heavily towards a grown and sexy night spot. Promotion and location would be the key. Seven days a week, free all night for the ladies on the week-end. Everybody knows the real moneys made off the bar anyway. Legit trapping. My main concern would be to keep the young niggas out. Young, dumb, niggas will get your shit shut down every time. But with a grown and sexy spot, where men would have to be at least twenty- seven to make it through the door, I’d be avoiding a lot of the young boy bullshit, and significantly increasing my chance at success. Ladies of course would be admitted at eighteen, with arm bands for the under twenty-one. Wherever the chics is at, that’s where the niggas will be. Making it free for the ladies on the week-ends, they’d definitely be up in the spot. That’s extra money for them to save and spend on weave, outfits, pedicures or whatever. They already know that once they’re in the house and looking good, horny ass niggas will keep em showered with drinks. All this ran through my mind as I walked up to the bar and ordered a double shot of Henny. “No Ice!” I had to yell over the NAS joint “Ether” that blasted through the speakers. Nobody had noticed me and that was a plus. My Duke Blue Devil fitted hat pulled low, with my flight jackets collar flipped up, kept me incognito. That is, until a female voice screaming over the music brought my attention to alert. “Banks!… Banks!… Banks is that you!” Through my peripheral vision, I could see that the person calling out to me was none other than Tamia. She was standing right beside me in open toe stilettos, with form fitting Seven Jeans showing off her “Straight Stuntin” phat ass. I kept my back to the dance floor with my face staring down into my drink on the bar, hoping she’d go away. Now don’t get me wrong. Tamia was a delicious fuck, but she was also what I would sum up in one word as, “CRAZY!!!” Tamia and I had a fucked a few times, a year or so before I got locked up. But after about the fourth or fifth time we got together, I started to lose interest. No, it wasn’t anything personally that she’d done, because like I said she actually had some good pussy. It was just that I had so much on my plate at the time. The crazy shit started with her blowing up my phone damn near every night asking me to come and scoop her. And almost every night I’d have to tell her “not tonight” I’m out getting money. Although she was no more to me than an every now and then smash out, she started telling chics that she was my girl, calling me crying and shit asking me why was I treating her so badly. Immediately I thought to myself, “Oh shit! This broad is nuts!” I’d block her number and she’d simply call me from different numbers. It got so bad that if I didn’t recognize a number, I wouldn’t answer my phone. This was costing me mega-dollars because most of my coke sells called me from different numbers and locations. I was missing money hand over fist trying to duck Tamia’s psycho ass! The straw that broke the camels back, was when one Sunday afternoon she popped up over my mom dukes crib and told her that she was waiting on me upon my request. Mom dukes not knowing any better; and knowing how many different broads I fucked with on the regular, took it on face value that she was telling the truth and thought nothing else of it. As soon as moms walked outta the room, Tamia snatched up the phone and dialed my number. At the time, I was butt naked on a thick bitch’s bed with my balls in her mouth. At first, I tried to ignore the ringtone of my phone. But it would stop for a minute, then start right back up again, leading me to believe that it just might be important. I glanced over at my phone laying on the nightstand and saw that it was my mom dukes hitting me. “Hold up baby I gotta get this,” I told the ball sucking broad and still had to damn near yank my nuts outta her mouth! She smacked her lips and flopped down on the bed.
“Turn that thing off,” she pouted.
“You better shut the fuck up! This my mama!”
“Oh I’m sorry Banks.” She knew when I was serious and chose on these occasions to just shut the fuck up.
“Yeah ma what’s up?” I answered my phone.
“Baby when you coming to see me?” Immediately I recogni
zed Tamia’s voice coming across the phone line and my blood started to boil! How in the hell did this psycho chic get inside my mom’s crib! “I miss you Banks,” Tamia went on before I had a chance to speak.
“Stay right there, I’ll be there in a minute,” was all I said before I hung up and began to throw on my clothes.
“Where you going boo?” Ms. headhunter whimpered.
“I gotta go take care of some business. Hit me up later,” I answered rushing out the door of her apartment. As soon as I reached my mom’s house, I got Tamia, put her in my car, and told her how it was. “Look Tamia, I like you and all that, but you are not my girl and you never will be! I can’t fuck wit you no more! I want you to stop calling me and leave me the fuck alone! You crazy!” Immediately tears sprang from her eyes as she pleaded for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry daddy! I’ll do better I promise! Don’t leave me please! Please don’t leave me Teddy!” She cried out hysterically while reaching for my arm.
“I don’t want you!” I screamed yanking my arm away from her. You are not my girlfriend and I do not need one! Now get the fuck outta my car and don’t call me no more!”
“Teddy please!’
“Get ooutttt!!!” My anger threatened to erupt as I reached across her and flung open the passenger side door! A light rain had started, but without another word, Tamia climbed from the car and stood on the curb weeping. For just a brief second I felt sorry for her, as the raindrops got larger and I watched her getting soaked outside my window. But I’d trained myself to be cold. Growing up in the Bull City you learn quickly that you have to be, if you want to survive. If not, you’d soon find yourself being ran down and eaten like the slow zebra in the pack. Lions, tigers, wolves, take your pick; but the streets of Durham are full of em all. That’s before I even start talking about the rats and the snakes! So just as quick as I’d allowed myself to feel pity for her, my heart ran cold once more, I turned my head and pulled the fuck off.. Three weeks later she started calling my phone again. On the third call, I answered prepared to blast her ass out! “Tamia I…!”