She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest 3

by Shvonne Latrice

“Oh, okay.” She moved her food around the bowl with the spoon before eating some.

  “I like you too though.”

  “You don’t have to say that; my feelings aren’t hurt.” She half smiled. “Plus, we’re just cool, right? Friends.” She touched my chin, then checked her phone before returning it to its faced down position.

  “Right.” After a moment of silence, I asked, “How many niggas you cool with?”

  “I have friends. I like you best though.” She winked, and I gave her a feigned smile.

  “That’s what’s up.” I tended back to my dish.

  “Well, it’s almost 8 p.m., so I have to go.” She got up then reached down to take my now empty bowl.

  “Go where?” I was caught off guard.

  “To work.” She laughed, letting her brows lower between her eyes. “Bills must be paid, Eitan.”

  “I paid your rent for the month.”

  “Yes, but there are other months in the year, specifically the one after the month you just paid. So, I need to work to make sure it gets taken care of.” She grabbed my bowl and left.

  I was gon’ tell her to stay but decided to let her go make her money. Also, I didn’t want her thinking we were building anything, so it was best we create some space between us anyway.

  About half an hour later, Frida had her bag packed and was leaving out. As she walked by, I made sure to stop her so I could get a kiss. Soon as she left, I texted Rubie, but a whole hour went by and she never responded.

  I decided I was gon’ smoke before getting some sleep, because it was rare as fuck these days that I could actually snooze for more than three damn hours. Right when I ashed the blunt, my phone rang, and I saw it was Holli. I was tired, so whatever she needed, she was gon’ have to get it elsewhere or call the fucking police.

  “Damn!” I shouted when she kept calling back-to-back. “What!”

  “I’m full term, and you have the nerve to not be answering me?”

  “The baby ain’t due for like another month, Holli. Fuck.” I wish I didn’t hate her ass so much since she was my daughter’s mother, but fuck. I couldn’t even stop my lip from turning up when I’d see her name displayed on my phone.

  “Babies come early all the time. Anyway, I was calling because I need you to come over tomorrow; we should talk.”

  “About?”

  “A lot of things. We have a child coming, and we don’t live together, so we have to figure out how we’re gonna do this.”

  “I’ll come through around noon before I hit the studio.”

  “Okay, and can you bring me some McDonald’s when you come?”

  “How do you even know you gon’ want McDonald’s?”

  “Because I always do. Thank you, baby daddy.” She hung up.

  Her voice had ruined my damn high.

  The next day…

  I’d just pulled up to my old luxury apartment that Holli had basically Deebo’d me out of. After parking, I made my way up, using my key, and upon entering, I heard her voice and a male’s. I knew damn well her ass didn’t have a nigga laid up in this shit that I was paying for.

  “Holli—” I stopped in my tracks when I saw her brother Al seated on the couch, my fucking couch, with snacks everywhere and a pizza in front of him on the coffee table. “Where is Holli?”

  “Hi to you to, my nigga.” He laughed. “She’s in the shower. Come chill.” He patted the couch.

  “How she in the shower when I just heard her talking to you?”

  “She moves fast for a pregnant woman, huh?” He chortled way too fucking loudly.

  Irritated, I went to sit down but adjacent to and a little ways away from him.

  “I hope she hurries up because I gotta be at the studio by one thirty p.m.”

  “I rap too you know.” He shoved the bread crust from the slice of pizza he’d just devoured into his mouth.

  “Cool.”

  “I was looking into getting my own rap career going or starting a business.” He kept his eyes on me.

  “Good luck to you.”

  “Nah, nigga. I don’t think you get it. I need you to connect me with Wacko.”

  “Connect you? Catch that nigga at the studio.” I pointed over my shoulder as if the studio were next door. “I don’t hook him up with artists.”

  “Not what Holli said. Sis told me you drove her right into Wacko.” He bit down on another slice.

  “Holli already had a little buzz, so I just gave her a slight push in the right direction. The homie don’t just scoop random niggas off the street. You gotta have something flowing already for him to even entertain the idea.”

  “Well talk me up to the nigga, get me a meeting, and then I’ll take it from there. Don’t worry about my buzz.”

  I was about to speak, but Holli walked out in her robe looking big as hell.

  “Aye, what did you need to talk about because I gotta go, Holli?” I got off the couch.

  “I called you here for my brother. Where is my McDonald’s?”

  “Shit, I forgot. Let me go get it and drop it back off.” I couldn’t believe her stupid ass gamed me into coming over here for this bullshit.

  “Get me that meeting, or I’m gon’ need some money to get my own shit going. I know you got it too.” Al spoke up, rising to his feet as the pizza slice hung from his dirty ass hand.

  “Nigga, you got me fucked up. I already told yo’ ass how to get at Tony. And I damn sure ain’t about to run you no fucking money for a business.”

  I could feel the frown deeply embedded in my face. This nigga was straight tripping.

  “Oh, I see you want a war. I’ll let the black truck homies know that you said it’s a no-go.” He sat down cackling, as Holli wore a worried look on her face.

  “Fuck you.” I walked off and left.

  I took my ass to McDonald’s to get the food, and soon as I entered the apartment to give Holli her shit, she stopped me in the entrance hallway.

  “Eitan, please just get him the meeting or the money. He only wants a hundred thousand dollars. That’s nothing to you.”

  I didn’t know how she knew my funds situation, but with the way the media stayed in your business, I wasn’t too surprised.

  “I’m not doing that shit, Holli.” I tried to get around her, but she stopped me.

  “Please. I’m not asking for me or for him, but for you. I don’t want him to kill you. I know you hate me and think I only want to ruin your life, but that’s not the case. My brother is crazy. He will have you murked in less than twenty-four hours, E.”

  I wanted to shout how I didn’t give a fuck, but unfortunately, I did. I could see in Holli’s eyes that she was for real worried and not just trying to help her psycho ass brother. I wasn’t trying to die over something as simple as a fucking meeting. I knew the nigga had connects too, ever since that black truck pulled up on me after that pool party.

  “Oh, you back!” Al hit the corner, making Holli jump slightly. Yeah, her ass was telling the truth; even she was scared of this nigga.

  “I’ll be in contact about the meeting,” I let him know.

  “Oh cool.”

  “Here, take yo’ food.” I handed Holli the bag before getting the fuck up out of there.

  Maybe this meeting would end Al’s bullshit. If so, I would do whatever to get this nigga out of my damn life. He needed to go to jail, get rich, or move ASAP, especially with him being my daughter’s uncle. I ain’t want his ass around her at all!

  8

  Camarih

  Now that my business Whipped by Camarih was bringing me in a nice income, I was noticing that a lot of my customers had been inquiring about facials or wanting to know where I worked now that Angel Skin had fired me. The $25,000 monthly I was making from my products alone was nice, but actually helping people in person was what I really enjoyed. It would be nice to give a facial using my own products instead of that horrible shit I was forced to incorporate at Angel Skin.

  By saying that, I’d been working on
a business plan so that I could present it to Patty, the CEO of the company who was backing me for distribution. I figured she’d be a big help so that I could secure a space in a nice area to have clients come to. I didn’t want it to be somewhere in Tarzana or Calabasas where a lot of people placed their business, because most of my clients didn’t reside out there. Plus, being in a more common area meant more new customers.

  “If things go right, your daddy won’t be the only rich one.” I smiled at my son as he laid in his stroller.

  It was a nice day out, so I decided to go to this cute cafe near where I lived to get some fresh air and work. I made sure to go inside though because I didn’t want that sun beaming down onto my baby.

  “That is a big ring,” a man commented, making me look up from my notepad.

  “Yeah, I love it.” I watched him as he sat down across from me, adjusting his suit jacket.

  He was tall, with black kinky hair, a thick mustache, brown skin, and a cheap black watch. He had to be in his mid-forties and some sort of professional but one that didn’t make a lot of money. Or maybe he was humble in how he dressed.

  “I’m Keith Broward.” He reached across to shake my hand.

  “Camarih. How can I help you?”

  “Yes, Camarih Marlon. I know. I wanted to talk to you about the death of Roberta Bell. I work for LAPD.”

  Bobi. And I guess he was humble because detectives made a nice amount of money.

  “What about it? I know nothing about her death. Sorry.”

  “You don’t associate with anyone who maybe didn’t like Miss Bell? I heard she wasn’t exactly a nice person.” He laughed.

  I’d been growing up in the hood long enough to know policemen always tried to connect with you to make you tell them something.

  “No she wasn’t, but that doesn’t mean I associate with people who would kill her.”

  “Who was she to you?”

  “My mom’s… friend.”

  “How well did you know Roberta?” He checked his notepad then said, “I mean Bobi. I heard that’s what she liked to be called.”

  “I knew her pretty well, I guess. I told you, she was my mom’s friend.”

  “She lived with you, right?”

  “She lived with my mom, and so did I.”

  “Yes, sorry.” He wrote something down. “Did you and Bobi ever have any animosity toward one another? Did you fight? Physically or verbally?”

  “I’m done talking, Mr. Broward. I’ve already said that I don’t know anything or anyone who would kill her.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “It’s possible someone broke into the house and killed her in the midst of a robbery.”

  “Yes, that’s possible, but robbers usually don’t slit throats. Additionally, robbers typically steal something.” He pursed his lips, confusing me. “Is that your baby?” He pointed to the back of Houston’s stroller. He couldn’t see him of course.

  “Maybe.”

  He chuckled subtly.

  “Would his father be a man by the name of Houston Terranova?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Mr. Terranova is damn near an outlaw, Miss Marlon. You said you knew no one who would be capable of murder.”

  “We must be speaking of two different people.”

  “Miss Marlon, you seem to have a lot going for you and maybe a child. I would hate to see a beautiful, intelligent, possible mother go down over a knucklehead like Houston Terranova.”

  “If you don’t mind, Keith, I’m busy. Goodbye.”

  “Of course. We’ll hopefully be in touch.” He got up to leave.

  “Wait, I thought she was shot in the head?” I asked him.

  “She was, but that was done post-mortem. She died from the slit throat.” He gave me a sympathetic look before leaving.

  As soon as he was gone, I reached into my purse to call my mother. I knew her ass was behind this; plus, I had questions.

  “Yes?” she answered.

  “Why did some man by the name of Keith Broward just approach me?” I was seething, shoving my shit into my bag then putting it into the bottom of my baby’s stroller.

  “He wants to help solve Bobi’s murder.”

  “And what does that have to do with me?”

  “You know exactly what it has to do with you. Now all I told him was to see if you knew anything since you were dating and had a child by a well-known thug. However, I can tell him much more. They’re salivating at the thought of locking Tony up for anything.

  Now if you don’t want that, get me a new house, in a very nice neighborhood, paid off, and twenty thousand dollars.”

  “Something is wrong with you, it really is.” I was pushing the stroller to my car by this time.

  “I am your mother! You should want to get me a house! And don’t think I don’t know you’re making money from those cheap ass body products! My co-worker showed me your social media page, and you’re doing pretty well, Camarih.”

  “Why did Keith say Bobi died from her throat being slit?”

  There was a lengthy pause.

  “Because she did!”

  “You told me she had a huge hole in her head when you called me about finding her dead.”

  “It was both, obviously!”

  “So the person slit her throat and then shot her in the head?” I inquired dryly.

  “Yes. Just get me what I want, or I will drop the dime on your boyfriend.”

  Click.

  I put my baby in the car and then drove home, thinking of all kinds of scenarios. It was odd to me that Bobi had those types of injuries that didn’t even relate to one another. I could see if she’d been stabbed and had her throat slit, but what criminal goes from knife to gun if the person is already dead?

  When I got home, I fed then bathed my baby before making dinner. I wanted to wait for Tony to get here to eat, so I took Houston to my bedroom with me to make him fall asleep. He’d been staying up later than usual, and his doctor told me it was fine; he just had a lot of energy. I didn’t know, but I needed his ass to go to sleep!

  “You’re gonna go night-night for Mommy? So she can do some work?” I smiled at him as he lay on his round pillow in the middle of our bed.

  He laughed cutely, proving he wasn’t the least bit tired, before smiling as I kissed him.

  I began rubbing him as suggested by the doctor, and after a while, he started to doze off a little bit. However, when Tony came in the room, he burst into tears. He always did that because he wanted attention from him.

  “Why you in here crying, Baby Cuz?” Tony scooped him, and his loud sobs immediately turned to low sniffles.

  “He needs to go to sleep.” I shook my head.

  “Aight. Let me work my magic.”

  “No, don’t tell him one of those violent ass stories, Houston.”

  “You want his ass up all night, or you wanna accept the fact that Baby Cuz is a real ass nigga?”

  “Whatever.” I folded my arms, watching. I was low-key hoping it didn’t work so I could prove his ass wrong.

  “So this a old ass story. But I was in high school, and some nigga was talking shit, so of course I had to ask cuz what the issue was…” Tony ran off, and like always, Houston was intrigued before falling asleep right in his arms only eight minutes later.

  “I can’t stand you,” I told him when he returned from putting the baby in his room.

  “You can’t?” He hovered over me before kissing me gently. “Remember that shit tonight.”

  He helped me from the bed to kiss me again, and then we went to the kitchen so I could make our plates. After I prayed for us, we dug in.

  “I should have mentioned this sooner, but my mom is gonna go to the police about what happened with Bobi.” I watched Tony continue to eat. “Baby, did you hear me?”

  “I did, and I don’t give a fuck.”

  “But if she tells them, then they’re gonna come after you.”

  “I know, and then they’ll see they have no eviden
ce and take their monkey asses on. This ain’t the first time I’ve been pursued for some shit, Camarih.”

  “She wants a condo or house, paid in full, and twenty grand. She got a detective to talk to me!”

  “She can suck my dick. The only thing yo’ carpet munching ass mama is gon’ get is a bullet in her dome if she keeps trying to play. Now the bitch can talk and squeal all she wants to, but she ain’t got shit to connect me. And if you mention my name in any muthafuckin police station, they gon’ follow up, so I ain’t tripping off no fucking detective. If that nigga had some shit, they’d be on me, not you.”

  True.

  “But what if she finds—”

  “She won’t. I been Tony Wacko for a long ass time. She ain’t got shit.” He seemed rather confident.

  “Okay.” I ate some more. “She told me when it first happened that Bobi had gotten shot. But the detective said she died from her throat being slashed.”

  Tony frowned slightly.

  “Her throat being cut sounds familiar. I don’t know about that other shit.”

  “You sure one of your people didn’t shoot—”

  “Nah. Them niggas do whatever the fuck I tell ’em to and exactly how I say do it. Ya mama is on some funny shit.”

  I just didn’t understand what was happening right now.

  “You promise nothing is gonna hit the fan?”

  Scooting his chair back from the table, Tony waved for me to get in his lap, so I did.

  “She don’t have nor does she know shit. She’s stupid as fuck and trying to run game on a nigga that invented the game. The fact that she’s only asking for twenty racks shows how fucking stupid the hoe is. It further proves that she don’t know a damn thing. If she did, her request would be more than a fucking condo and twenty thousand dollars.

  If she come at you with this shit again, I’m taking her fucking head off personally, and that’s on my son.”

  “Okay.”

  “Remember, you ain’t fucking with no dumb nigga. I ain’t right in the head, but a nigga ain’t stupid. Fuck would I jeopardize all this shit I got going and we got going just to sloppily kill Madea.”

  “No you did not call her Madea.” I hugged his neck loosely, admiring his handsome face as I snickered. “But okay. I feel better now.” I kissed him.