Coldhearted & Crazy (8 page)

Kenya was tired of all that back-and-forth bullshit. She was the only one holding that house down. She was going to come at London with the only thing that she seemed to now understand and embrace: struggle.

“First of all, London, the taxes and the water bill are due this month. You got half? Next, the homeowners insurance; once again, do you got half on that? And then, sorry, I had almost forgotten about the heating and light bill that are being shut off. Let me get out a pencil and paper and total your part.” Kenya was pissed by that point and was now raising her voice.

London was totally thrown off by her sister's callous outbreak. She totally was speechless.

Kenya didn't let up. “You see the neighborhood, London. You see how it's changing. Even your own girl, Amber, is setting people up. Go ask Old Mr. Phelps. He'll tell you! Shiiit. How you gonna carry it, London? Stop chasing a dead dream. Our hood is off the fuckin' hook. These fools out here ain't playing no more little kiddie games! They playing hardball!”

London knew her twin was telling the truth about the state of the neighborhood, and even Amber; although, she still knew that Gran wouldn't want the house sold to strangers. “You know I need all my money to pay for extra school expenses next year. Kenya, I can't spend it!”

“Oh, I get it, so you think it's all right for me to spend all of my damn money? Well news flash: the money Gran left me is gone. And now I gotta get mines how I live. I hustle, London. I live day by day, no doubt. Some nights, I'm scared to come home to my own house because of the damn crime, so fuck what you talking about.”

London got her thoughts together and finally spoke. “Listen, Kenya, just let me think about it. Let's just eat our breakfast and talk more about it at home.”

“I'm sorry that I threw you off your square, but I don't know what else to do. You know I got love for you.” Kenya and London smiled at one another and decided to change the subject. That one had run its course for the moment.

 

 

When the waitress brought the bill to the table both girls reached for it at the same time. “Let me get that. I know how you ‘need' your money.” Kenya laughed as she excused herself to go to the bathroom.

London watched her sister walk through the restaurant like she owned the place.
Some things never change!
London thought.

“Hey, Tastey, I missed you last night, with your fine self. You know how I get when I can't get a ‘taste'!” A strange guy appeared at the table. The man was leaning all in London's inner space. “Here, baby, let me take care of your bill.” He pulled out a wad of cash and peeled off three twenty dollar bills. “I'll see you this weekend, baby.” He made sure to touch her hand when he put the cash on the table. London had a flashback of Professor Kincade and was in a frozen trance. He then smiled and went back to the other side of the room to sit with his friends, who were all staring.

Kenya returned to the table, putting lotion on her hands. She saw the money on the table and shook her head at London. “Listen, Ms. Goody-Goody, I told you I had it,” she said, and slid the loot back over to her.

“I didn't pay for it, Tastey!” London rolled her eyes. Kenya immediately looked puzzled when she heard her sister call her by her stage name. “Some guy over there thought I was you, or should I say ‘Tastey,' and paid for it.” London pointed toward the group of desperate-looking men.

Kenya just shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head at them. “It's all part of the game! Life in the hood! Some of us can't escape!”

It was then that London decided to agree to put the house up for sale. She didn't want her sister to have to live right in the mix. Even as soft as everyone thought she was, she knew that you didn't shit where you slept.

“Damn, baby, you like that? Tell me you like how all this ass feels on your dick.” Tastey was spitting game on Shawn. He was one of her regulars. “Oh, daddy, your dick is so hard. Is all that for me?” Grinning all in his face, the young temptress was careful to keep her eyes glued on him, knowing eye contact would keep him hypnotized. His manhood was rock hard so Tastey knew to ease up on the grinding. She didn't want him to bust a nut on himself. Well, not at least 'til she got four or five dances from him. At twenty dollars a pop that would be at least a hundred. By the time the fifth song was beginning, Ms. Tastey decided to let loose on him. She knew he was about at his spending limit and wanted to make sure that he was satisfied with the dance. She never wanted to make a customer of hers have to get another girl for a good time. “Please, let me turn around and ride you, daddy!” She was licking her lips. “I want you to watch me cum on that big black dick!”

Shawn was all in as he grabbed a hold of Tastey's waist. “Yeah, that's it, make daddy cum!” was all he could get out his mouth before Tastey filled his face with her breasts. She was moving back and forth and talking cash shit in his ear.

Brother Rasul was keeping a watchful eye, just in case she or any of the other girls needed him. Some of the dudes would sometimes get too excited and take the fantasy a little too far. That's when he would step in and try to damn near snap their necks. After a few more seconds, the song was over and Shawn had a huge smile on his face. He finished his drink and told Tastey that he would see her later on in the week. She really liked Shawn and secretly wished that it was her who was on the picture in his wallet, the one with his wife and baby. As she was trying to make it back into the dressing room to freshen up and change her outfit, a familiar hand reached from nowhere, grabbing out for her arm.

“Damn, motherfucker, what the fuck . . . ?” Before she could finish her sentence she realized that it was Ty. She hadn't really spoken to him since the night she started working at the club. He'd called, leaving a few threatening messages about her owing him for putting her on, but that didn't stop her from getting her money.

“Oh, I guess you just said fuck me and shit. It's like that? You dirty, rotten bitch!” Ty was drunk and slurring his words. “I'm the one who put your cum-catchin'-ass on in this motherfucker. You owe me. Why don't you come over here and give a nigga some of that famous head I've been missing out on?”

“Oh, you trying it! Listen, Ty, I don't owe you jack shit. You got me all the way twisted in this piece!” Tastey was pissed and aggravated as she put him in his place. “And don't come all up in my job trying to front!”

“Oh, wow it's like that? You a beast now, right?” He was on the nut and about to try to cuff her up by her throat, when out of nowhere a huge arm wrapped around his neck. Brother Rasul was choking the dog shit out of Ty as he struggled unsuccessfully to breathe. He was turning beet red and tears were flowing out both eyes. Zack, seeing the commotion, came running over just as Ty was getting skull drug out the door. “I was just . . .”

Ty couldn't get his explanation out good before Zack also started in on him. “Let me show you how real D-town ballers ball!” Zack reached under his shirt and pulled out a shiny black nine. He put one up top and put the gun in Ty's mouth. “Pay attention, Tastey or Kenya or whatever you choose to call her is family up here, all right! If you ever fucking choose to disturb her well-being again, I'll blow your dental out the back of your neck! Now get the fuck out my club before you get me all the way off my square. That's my word! We clear?”

Zack stuffed his gun back in his rear waistband and left Brother Rasul and the rest of the bouncers to do their thang. Tastey was feeling somewhat bad for Ty, but she felt strangely loved by Zack and the rest of her club family and felt a sense of loyalty to them for coming to her aid.

Old Skool, wanting to put her two cents in the mix, came in the dressing room and wanted to know if she was okay. “Hey, girl. You good or what?” She rubbed sympathetically on the young girl's back.

“Yeah, I just hate when someone tries to put a bitch's business all up in the street. It's all good though. I ain't tripping on it though.”

“That's good. Don't let these fools front on you.” Old Skool made her feel much better. “When you get dressed Zack wants to talk to you.” Tastey gave her a worried look, hoping her job wasn't in jeopardy. “Girl, don't worry. He ain't bugging about that bullshit. He said you wanted to talk to him about some stuff you had on your mind.”

“Oh yeah, damn, I did. I almost forgot!” Tastey was relieved. She didn't want to lose her job. She needed the money and, besides, she had no other friends except her girl Raven and the rest of the club family. Emotionally drained from dealing with Ty's over-the-top antics, she decided to be done for the night. She pulled her hair up in a ponytail and put on a track suit and her sneakers. She was getting herself prepared to meet with Zack.

Tastey made her way into Zack's office and took a seat on the couch. He was on his cell phone, talking a lot of shit as always. After a short while of listening to him boast about this, that, and the third, she got up and started to look at all of the different framed pictures he had on the office wall. There were a few of girls and some of cars, but most of them were nightclub shots from way back when. Judging from some of the outfits he and others had on, he must have been collecting them for a long time. In some of them, Zack's pimped-out-ass was even sporting a Jheri curl and bell-bottoms. As she walked along the wall, one picture shockingly jumped out at her. Tastey moved in extra close to get a better look, thinking her eyes might've been playing tricks on her. “Oh fuck naw, oh shit!” Her sudden outburst caused Zack to glance over at her and start to wrap up his conversation.

“What's up, baby girl? Sorry about that. You know how I am when I get to runnin' my mouth. I damn near forgot you were here you were so quiet.” He was making his way toward her as he was talking.

Tastey made sure to move away from that particular picture so he wouldn't ask her any questions about her reaction to it. “Don't worry. I kept myself busy looking at all your pictures, especially the ones where you're busting that curl!” Kenya was laughing at Zack, trying to play off a bad feeling that was stirring inside the pit of her stomach.

Playing the role, he started acting like he was fixing his curl in the mirror. “You don't know nothing about this! I was Grand Daddy Caddy, Macaroni Tony!” Zack teased before getting down to the reason for their meeting.

After they sat down and got themselves together it was time to get to it. Zack thought it would be better to let Tastey start and get whatever it was that she wanted to say out in the open before he broke on her with his game plan.

“Okay, this is what I was thinking.” She adjusted her body in the chair, praying his response would be positive. “What if we had feature dancers and showcases every week here? You know, some shit where the top moneymakers got put on full blast? I was talking to Old Skool and she told me she used to be a feature dancer at different spots around the city.” Tastey took a break in the presentation she was making, to try to peep Zack and see if he was buying into her new hustle.

“That's what's up! I'm glad to see you're thinking of more ways to make the club and yourself extra revenue.” Zack had to make sure to give Old Skool some extra cash and some of his dick that she always craved. She had perfectly laid the groundwork out for his plan and he was overjoyed. This was just what he needed to hear. Zack could manipulate Kenya into thinking that it was her idea and he came up with his part of it at the tail end, spur of the moment. “I think we can do that and even a little bit more.”

Zack told her to get relaxed and pay attention to what he was about to say next. This was going to be the part of the plan that would make or break the whole deal. “All right, Tastey, here's the real thing that I'm talking about. I got a gravy-ass hookup with a couple of cats out West in L.A. and down in Texas. And we got sorta what you would call a partnership. You see, I got my hands on a lot of, should we say, product, and they're interested in helping me get rid of it.” He was rubbing his hands together as he spoke, hoping to lure Kenya on his team. “First, we can do some smaller things in Ohio and other places closer to home, then move up to a bigger scale.”

“Are you talking about moving cocaine, raw, or trees?” Kenya was attentively sitting straight up in her seat, taking in all her boss had to say.

“Hell naw! Now just what the fuck you know about all that?” Zack was more than amazed that she had come on him just like that, flat out with it. He was both shocked and relieved all at the same time. The expression on his face told it all.

Tastey could see that he was staring at her strange, so she took over the conversation. “Come on, Zack, you act like I don't be around people. You must think I'm not from the hood. Who the fuck ain't got a head in their family? And, shit, weed is the third creation. Everybody knows God made the heavens, the earth, and then the ‘trees.'” Tastey held her hands open and looked toward the sky like she was smiling up at the Almighty Himself.

“Girl, you know you a fool!” It was then that Zack knew that his plan would work out perfectly. The scheming pair talked for close to a hour before Brother Rasul came to the door informing him that a guy was out front looking for him needing a face to face. He was claiming his business was very important and extremely personal, meaning that what he had to say was for Zack's ears only.

“Okay, partner, let me go up front and see what all this is about and I'll talk to you tomorrow, cool?” Zack reached over and grabbed Tastey's hand, shaking it, signifying they had a deal. “Be easy, baby girl, and clear your mind, you about to make some major paper.”

As Zack and Tastey left out his office, he saw Old Skool sitting at the end of the bar and blew her a kiss as he stroked his dick. She knew that she would get paid tonight in more ways than one. Old Skool then told Tastey to have a good night as one of Brother Rasul's team walked her out to her car. Seeing something stuck underneath her windshield wiper blade, she took the half-folded paper out. Quickly realizing Ty had left the note, Kenya angrily balled it up and threw it out the window without so much as reading one single solitary word.
Fuck him and all that drama he be bringing with him!
As she pulled out the parking lot still thinking about the picture she'd seen on Zack's office wall, she drove home for the night.