by Deja King
Later on that day, I had an appointment at Boogie's detailing shop so I decided to stop by my moms' crib. I hadn't seen her in a few months, and even though I didn't fuck with her like that, I wanted to make sure she hadn't died of a drug overdose. I used my key, and when I opened the door, my moms was lying on the couch, butt ass naked with some dude on top of her. Empty bottles of liquor were around the couch and some needles and pipes were sitting on the table next to them.
For a moment I thought they were dead because their bodies were motionless, but then they both started moaning as they changed positions on the couch. I walked over to the stereo and blasted the music to wake the two junkies up.
"What the fuck?" the two of them said in unison as they jumped up off the couch. When I had their full attention I turned the stereo back off.
"Who the hell is you?" the bony Chris Rock look-alike screamed. He didn't look like new money Chris Rock, but `Pookie' "New Jack City" Chris Rock.
"I'm her daughter, you nasty-looking crack head."
"Who the fuck you talking to?" the Pookie look-alike asked as he wiped the crust from his eyes and mouth. He motioned his arms towards me like it was about to be on.
"Nigga, I'm talking to you, and you betta watch how you speak to me. I know you heard of Nico Carter. Well, that's my man, and it wouldn't take nothing but a phone call to have your life ended, so back the fuck up." I had to put some sort of fear in the dude because junkies can be some of the stupidest, overly confident ma'fuckahs out here.
"Both of ya calm down. It's too early in the morning for this shit."
My moms was straight trippin'.
"It's two o'clock in the afternoon; the morning been ended. Now, my man," I said, pointing my finger at the clothes lying on the floor. "You need to get yo' shit and get the fuck up outta here `cause I want to speak to my moms."
He looked over at my moms like she was supposed to say something, but I was still hitting her off with paper so she just turned her face away like her name was Bennet and she ain't in it.
I stood with my arms folded as the dude moved in slow motion getting dressed. He even tried to cover himself. "Nigga, ain't nobody checking for that little dick you got over there. Hurry the fuck up."
When he picked up his keys, he tried to grab the small amount of drugs they had left and my moms smacked his hand. "I paid for this shit. Get yo' hands off my drugs."
"Listen, we ain't `bout to have no crack head fight up in here. Take that shit, Pookie, and get the fuck up outta here."
"My name ain't Pookie. It's Leroy."
"Whateva, nigga, just go." When I turned my head for a minute making sure Leroy was gone and then locked the door, my moms tried to disappear into the bathroom. I went back there and started banging on the door. "Yo, I want to speak to you."
"Precious, damn. I'm shittin'. Give me a minute." Fifteen minutes later, my moms came strolling out of the bathroom like nothing happened.
"You a grown woman and can do whateva you like, but not on my dime. You're bringing any ole type of dirty mggas in here fucking them wit' no condom or nothin'. Are you tryna die of AIDS?"
"Just because you give me money, I'm still yo' mother, and you don't tell me what to do," she said, opening up the refrigerator and pulling out a beer.
"I tell you what then, how `bout I don't give you no mo' money, and you do whateva the fuck you like."
"Precious, you know I need that money. You my only source of income."
"Then act like it. I would prefer if you'd check yourself in some sort of rehab, which I would gladly pay for, but if not, keep them dirty niggas outta here. You neva know. They might flip out on you one day and kill yo' ass. I know one day I'm gonna have to bury you, but I would hate for it to be over some shit like that."
"You neva know, Precious. I might have to bury you first." Something about the way my moms said that sent chills up my spine.
"Just do what I ask. Here, take this." I pulled out a wad of cash and counted out fifteen hundred dollars. I knew she would probably smoke it up in less than a week, but somewhere inside of me I wished my mother would get straight. Every time I looked into her beautiful green eyes, I saw hope.
When I got in the car, I called Nico again, and this time he picked up the phone. "What's up, baby? Where you at?"
"Just in these streets handling business."
"Oh, I called you earlier and your phone went straight to voice mail."
"I don't know what that was about. Where you at?" He tried to change the subject.
"I just left my moms' crib. She was in there wit' some grimy nigga. I so wish she'd get off those damn drugs and get her life together."
"Baby girl, once a junkie always a junkie."
I knew the odds of what Nico was saying was true, but the fact that he said it bothered me. I was looking for a sympathetic ear, not a self righteous point of view.
"Have you talked to Ritchie?" I said, now wanting to change the subject.
"For a minute-why?"
"Inga said they supposed to go on another date tonight. Maybe you was right about them feeling each other."
"Oh, that's alright. I'ma see him in a few, and I'll ask him."
"Don't make it seem like you spying for me, so I can go back and tell Inga."
"I'm not. I know how to handle my man."
"So what time are you gon' be home tonight?"
"Probably late. I got mad shit to do. But I'll call you later."
My stomach was getting that queasy feeling which wasn't a good sign. The little bitch that's your conscience, who taps you on the shoulder when something is up, was doing a motherfucking tap dance on my shit. The message was clear: Nico was definitely creeping.
Although my instincts were screaming that at me, I needed some confirmation. I also wanted to find out the best way to handle it. The only person I trusted to discuss my suspicions with and who could give me sound advice was my main man, Boogie. I put my car in drive and headed to the detailing shop.
When I arrived, Boogie was in front checking out a customer's new Lamborghini, but he would have to continue that another time.
"Excuse me. I need to borrow Boogie for a minute," I said to the old-ass man who had no business pushing a sports car with all that speed. One wrong move on his stick shift and he would die of a heart attack. "Boogie, sorry for interrupting you, but this is an emergency. I'm sure the look of stress is written all over my face."
"Nah, I don't see stress. You looking like a Ghetto Queen to me," Boogie said, checking out my gear and bling.
"I appear that way on the outside, but on the inside I'm just tryna to maintain."
"From what I hear you're more than maintaining. I hear Nico is taking real good care of you. The streets say ya live like rap superstars."
"Oh, that's what the streets say? They saying anything else?"
"Anything like what?"
"You know, about what bitch is fucking my man."
"Precious, I know you ain't getting caught up in all the silly shit. That's the main problem when these men fuck with you young girls. You all get upset about irrelevant shit."
"What's irrelevant about wanting to know if my man is fucking around on me?"
"Because as long as he is taking care of home who really gives a fuck? You driving around here in the most expensive cars, designer clothes, dripping in diamonds and living in nice ass-cribs, but that still ain't enough. You gotta have a nigga's balls on a platter. I don't know what Nico is doing with his dick. All I know is that you are looking and living better than ever. Count your blessings and be done with it. If you start looking for shit on Nico you'll find it. Then you're going to cause a whole bunch of trouble for nothing."
"I hear you, Boogie. You know I always appreciate your advice."
"Good. Make sure you use it."
On my way home I replayed the conversation I had with Boogie over and over again. What he said made a lot of sense. I decided to give it a rest. Unless some shit about Nico and another bitch
slapped me in the face, I would chill.
For the next few weeks I continued with my normal activities, except for hanging with Inga. She and Ritchie were kicking it hard. I was on my way to meet her at the Dominican spot to get our hair done, since we hadn't hung out in a minute. Inga was already there when I arrived. I was surprised about how good she looked. She had on a fitted white jersey jumpsuit that emphasized her small waist and bodacious ass. She took out her weave and her hair was cut in one of those classic Chinese bobs. It was hot because Inga's hair was jet black and it complimented her coffee-brown complexion. By no means was Inga on my level looks-wise, but she was holding her own. "Look at you, girl," I said, giving Inga a hug.
"I'm spending Ritchie's money right, huh?"
"Damn right. That outfit is slammin,' and I'm loving your hair."
"Yeah, Ritchie said he was tired of getting his fingers caught in my tracks when we be fucking. So I decided to rock my own hair."
"It look good. You looking real official, Inga. A bitch is impressed." After getting our hair and nails done, we stopped by Amy Ruth's for some banging soul food. Inga went on and on about how happy she was with Ritchie and how pleased she was to have a man that was taking care of her. I was glad for her too, although I still felt Ritchie was a snake.
"So how are things going with you and Nico?" Inga finally asked, after going on about her and Ritchie since the moment I met up with her.
"Everything's cool, I guess."
"What you mean you guess" Ya the Ghetto King and Queen. You should be on top of the world."
"I suppose, but between you and me, I think Nico cheating on me. I know all niggas get they shit off, but I don't think it's no wham-bam, thank you, ma'am shit."
"Why you say that?"
"Just a feeling, but I could be wrong." I could see Inga fidgeting and playing with her nails like she was nervous. "Inga, do you have something to say, `cause you my girl? If you know something, spit it out."
"Precious, I didn't want to say nothin' because I thought it was just some hating shit by jealous bitches. But a week ago when I was at that beauty supply store, I ran into Tanisha and Vonda. We were just kicking it, and then they asked me about you. I told them you was cool and kept the conversation moving, but they kept going back to you. They told me that they heard Nico was fucking wit' this chick named Porscha from Queens. I honestly didn't believe them. I thought they were just throwing salt in the game."
"I'm sorry, Precious. Honestly though, they could still be lying, it may not be true."
"How did they hear about it?"
"Tanisha said her cousin is good friends with the girl Porscha, and she was bragging about how she was fucking wit' Nico Carter. She said she knew he had a girl, but she didn't care `cause he had some good dick and kept her pockets heavy."
My stomach was now doing somersaults. I knew everything Inga said was true because I'd been feeling like Nico was creeping on me anyway. To have my suspicions confirmed had me nauseated. This meant the whole hood knew Nico was screwing this bitch behind my back. I didn't know how I was going to play this shit out.
"Inga, don't tell Ritchie we had this conversation. I don't want Nico to know anything about this until I figure out what I'm gonna do."
"No doubt, but honestly, Precious, this shouldn't even matter. Ritchie always talking about how strung out Nico is over you and how he never been like this over any other girl he fucked wit'. Forget about those other bitches. You know they just dying to walk in your shoes."
I listened to every word Inga said, but it didn't make a difference. My instincts had been right all along. Nico was twisting the next bitch back out and right under my nose. What had me really vexed was that the nigga was shitting so close to where he lay. I was probably the topic of conversation in every hood's hair and nail salon in the five boroughs. Nico had disrespected me to the fullest, and I had no choice but to teach him a lesson.
The SPA Up
or the next couple of week's, everyday and every night I thought about the information Inga gave me. As bad as I wanted to put a knife through Nico's heart, I remained silent. I was spending every moment trying to figure out how to cause him the type of pain where he would wish he was dead, but he was very much alive. It was difficult though, because I couldn't just dump him and be with the next nigga; the code of the streets wouldn't allow that. The only dude I would want was someone on Nico's level, and all kingpin's wifey and ex-wifey were off limits. I also wanted to make sure my paper was intact before I bounced. There were so many things to think about. But the one thing I was sure of - a nigga was not gonna play me. That meant Nico had to go.
Friday night, Inga and I decided to go to Cherry Lounge because my girl, Medina did the party there. I was looking forward to drinking some bubbly and dancing to some hip hop. Nico and Ritchie were out of town, so Inga and I both thought this would be the perfect time to have some fun. The line was around the building when we walked up, but Medina was at the door and let us right in. Since we wanted to pop bottles, the lady that handled the tables led us back to the VIP section.
We were the only women with our own table in the VIP section. We were surrounded by some recognizable street hustlers and music industry dudes. Before long, the place was packed and the crowd was jumping to 50 Cent and The Game. As I guzzled down my third glass of champagne, I noticed Tanisha and two other chicks I didn't recognize walking towards us.
"What's up, Precious? What's up Inga?"
We both nodded our heads, acknowledging Tanisha.
"This is my cousin Michelle and her friend Porscha."
I know the color from my face had to disappear. I was in shock that Tanisha had the nerves to bring the bitch that was fucking my man to our table. She deserved a good oldfashion beat down over that shit. I couldn't help but stare down who I somewhat considered my competition.
Technically, she wasn't competition because I was the one that represented as wifey, but because I was competitive by nature I had to look at her that way. I couldn't lie the girl was pretty and had a nice body too. We kinda had the same sort of look, except she was more hard-core looking in the face. I didn't know if it was due to age or just living a hard knock life.
"Tanisha, since yo' silly ass wanted to bring your people over here let's cut right to it. Porscha, are you fucking my man Nico?" I asked, looking her straight in the eyes.
"Excuse me?"
"Bitch, you heard me. You fucking my man, Nico, or what?"
"As a matter of fact I am, bitch," she responded adding a twist to her neck. Inga, Tanisha and her cousin, Michelle stood all frozen. They didn't know what was going to happen next, so when I jumped over the table and swung my champagne bottle at Porscha, I knew Tanisha instantly regretted trying to be fly and bringing her fat ass over to my table.
Right when the bottle was about to collide with Porscha's head, her cousin snapped out of her daze and knocked it out my hand. It didn't matter because I had two good fists that would finish the job for me. I threw my whole body on top of Porscha. She was petite so she went down like a thin piece of paper. I just kept swinging on the bitch. A right and a left then another right and another left.
The bitch was helpless. Right when her cousin was about to jump on my back, Inga stepped up and let her know to back the fuck up. Everybody knew Inga could fight. But the funny thing was, because of how I looked, the whole hood slept on me, but I was bout it.
Inga was probably the only person that knew I could fight my butt off, and that's only because I whipped her ass one time. I kept throwing the punches, then I took my shoe off and clobbered the bitch with my heel. Right when I started seeing blood the bouncers ran up and lifted me off the bruised and bloody hussy. The chick was in shock. Before the bouncers got me completely off her, I spit at the hoe and said, "Now go tell Nico I whipped yo' ass, bitch."
Luckily Medina was my girl, so they didn't try to get extra with it. They simply asked us to leave and told me I would be more than welcome to come back next
week. Management was actually looking out for me because they weren't sure when Porscha finally got up off the floor if she would call the police and press charges.
Honestly, I didn't give a fuck because I would turn around and whip that bitch's ass again.
"Girl, are you OK?" Inga asked when we were walking to my car.
"I'm fine, but can you drive?" My adrenaline was pumping and the last thing I wanted to do was get in a car accident. About ten minutes into our ride home, Inga burst out laughing.
"Precious, you jumped over that table like you was part of the WWF. You put a beating on that bitch. I know they regretting they ever stepped to our table."
"I know, right?" I said, laughing too. I couldn't help but think about the scared expression on Porscha's face when I was pounding on that ass.
"Do you think she called Nico yet?"
"I hope she did, that's one less thing I gotta discuss wit' his ass. How is he gonna explain this bullshit away. That bitch sure had it coming, though. I wish I could've had five more minutes wit' her simple ass."
I slept until the middle of the afternoon the next day. I couldn't stop the dreams of beating the shit out of Porscha. Right when I was about to take my knife and slit her throat, I felt someone patting my arm and saying my name. When I opened my eyes, it was Nico.
"Baby, are you OK?" I shrugged my arm wanting him to get out my face and mad that he interrupted me right before I was about to end Porscha's life. "I came home as soon as I heard what happened."
"I'm fine. You need to go check on yo' bitch."
"Precious, what are you talking about?"
"Don't play wit' me, Nico. I know all about you and Porscha. That's why yo' phone always be going to voice mail `cause you laying up wit' that bitch. Nigga, fuck you." I pulled the blankets over my head so I could go back to sleep.