Deep Throat Diva (19 page)

OhmymotherfuckingGod, this nigga looks one pill from crazy,
I think, shifting in my seat. The look in his eyes tells me he’s about to go postal. And depending on how she answers—shiiit, on second thought, there’s really no answer she can give that’s going to make an ounce of sense. He’s going to beat her ass. Images of Jasper choking and beating the shit out of me come into full view. It’d be an ass whipping well-deserved, and I know it. Still, I quickly blink the images away, pulling out my cell. I dial 9-1-1.

Before I can open my mouth to tell the dispatcher what’s the emergency, he yanks Alicia by the back of her weave and in a flash my office becomes this nigga’s personal boxing ring as he starts beating her down right in front of us.

“Bitch, you try ’n play me, yo?” She tries to fight him off of her, but he is punching her all upside her face and head like she’s a nigga on the streets. She’s screaming and fighting him back, begging for him to stop. Felecia’s screaming at him to stop. Customers and other stylists are running back here to see what all the commotion is about. There are even a few bitches with their cell phones open snapping pictures. This nigga is whooping her ass like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I can’t believe this shit!

“Felecia, get them out of here,” I snap. She pushes the spectators back, shutting the door in their faces. I yell into the phone at the dispatcher and give her the details, then—when the dumb
bitch starts asking me a bunch of extras—I start screaming at her to get the police here before this loon kills her. The last thing I want is a body in my shop. And the way he is punching her up, it’s bound to happen.

By the time the police arrive, my office is all tossed up. There’s blood everywhere. Alicia gets taken out on a stretcher, and he is escorted out in handcuffs. The way he beat her down, I feel so bad for her. I truly do. What happened to her could ultimately happen to me if I’m not careful. Still in all, empathetic or not, the bitch is fired!

At a quarter-to-three, Mona, Jasper’s cousin, waltzes into the shop—
late
and wrong for her appointment. And after this morning’s episode with Alicia getting her ass stomped out in here, then having to clean shit up, the last thing I want to do is be on my feet any longer than I have to. The only thing I want to do is take my ass home, run a nice hot bath, and soak. Lucky for her, she’s my last appointment for the day. Still, I cut my eye at her as she plops down into my chair, letting her know my dismay.

“Girl, I’m so sorry. I had to go over to the school to pick up Mario’s ass from school. That fool done got suspended for a week.”

I grunt, placing a cape around her neck, then fastening it. Mario is her fourteen-year-old, fine as hell, spoiled ass son who she’s been having some behavioral problems with over the last few months or so. He’s been talking slick to her and not following curfew. What he needs, if you ask me, is a foot in his ass. But she doesn’t believe in hands-on disciplining a.k.a. beating that ass. And neither does his father, so…there you have it. “Mmmph, what did he do this time?”

She shifts in her seat. “Are you ready for this?” She pauses, waiting for a response.

“Girl, will you tell the damn story,” I say, swinging her around in the chair to face the mirror. I’m glad she’s already washed and conditioned her hair. That saves me some time.

She continues as I run a comb through her hair. “This little nigga got caught in the girl’s bathroom with some fast-assed thirteen-year-old with his pants dropped around his ankles.”

“You have got to be kidding me. Were they fucking?”

“No, chile. That little bitch was down on her knees sucking his dick.”

My mouth drops open. When I tell you I’m done, I mean it. I…am…motherfucking through! Do you hear me? First, Alicia; now this. And we won’t even go into the all the dick-sucking I’ve been doing. For some reason, it seems like lately I’m being surrounded by incidences that involve swabbing a nigga’s dick. Anyway, she goes on to say how dick sucking has become the new trend in middle and high schools. How these kids think sucking the skin off of a raw dick is safer than fucking. “OhmyGod,” I gasp, feigning shock. “I don’t believe it.”

“Hmmph, believe it. I heard she was sucking his dick a mile a minute. Had his ass shaking and moaning so damn loud that neither one of them heard the security guard walk in.”

I try not to laugh at the visual in my mind’s eye. I don’t even want the image of her son getting his top spun in my head. But it slowly starts to take up space in my mind’s eye. The slutty part of me wants to know if the little tramp swallowed. Did she gulp down his gooey cream? Ugh…I know, I know—it’s fucked up. I swallow back my seedy thoughts, moisten my throat, then say, “Girl, you know these kids today are too damn grown, and fast. I hope she got suspended, too.”

“Yeah, she did—for three damn days.”

“What, that’s it? And Mario got suspended for five, why?”

“They say ’cause he skipped a class and was in an unauthorized area, so he got two additional days.”

“That shit doesn’t make any sense,” I state, clipping her ends. “If I were that girl’s parents, I’d beat her little ass every damn day until her ass went back to school. DYFS would be locking me up by the time I finished with her.”

“Oh, don’t think her mother didn’t come down there and fuck her up. The principal had to pull her up off of her. Chile, what in the hell does a thirteen-year-old know about sucking a damn dick?”

“Apparently a lot,” I answer.

“Hmmph. When I was that age I was still playing with Barbie dolls.”

I shoot her a look, smirking. “Bitch, you
know
I know you. You were playing with many things, but a damn blonde-haired, blue-eyed doll wasn’t one of them.”

She sucks her teeth, laughing. “Oh, shut up. What…ever! The point is I didn’t suck my first dick until I was almost seventeen. And this little hussy was down on her knees sucking my son’s like it was dipped in chocolate.”

She rambles on about how she beat his ass, then told him he was going to be on punishment for a whole month. Personally, I think she’s being a bit extra with it. Please, who you know going to turn down getting head, especially a teen boy? Shit, I don’t know many horny-ass niggas that would. With his golden brown skin, sandy-colored hair and athletic build, Mario has had the girls ogling him since he was in second grade. Even teachers have told Mona that her son was going to be a heartbreaker. So it’s not surprising they’d start throwing him the pussy and throat.

“Girl, let him be,” I say, chuckling as I flat-iron her hair. “He only did what any teenaged boy with raging hormones woulda
done. And you know like I do it was that nasty-assed girl who lured his horny ass into that bathroom.”

She laughs. “Girl, you sound like Avery now. You shoulda heard him on the phone when I was telling him about it. I told him I wanted him to get with that ass, and he had the nerve to tell me to stop cock-blocking and let him get his. Girl, I screamed on his ass. I bet you he changed his tune then. This nigga gonna say he’ll talk to him and tell him next time to wait until he gets out of school to get his nut off.”

I shake my head, laughing. That is so Avery. In high school, his nasty ass was always somewhere humping his dick into someone. He had pussy being tossed at him left and right, too. And he probably still does. But, knowing Mona, she’s keeping him on a very short leash. “Like father like son,” I say, twirling her around in the chair, then handing her a mirror. I’ve given her a simple layered cut with a tapered nape, then added a few curls to give it body.

“Annnnnnyway, have you and Jasper set a date yet?” She checks out her do, shaking her head, her tresses swing loosely about. “Oh, yes, this is it, girl.”

“No, that’s something we are still working on,” I tell her, smiling. “He wants to get married now while he’s still in the halfway house. And I want to wait.”

“He called over to Momma’s the other night and spoke to Sparks…” Sparks is her younger brother. He’s one of them rugged, pretty-boy types that all the chicks swoon over. Come to think of it, Mario actually looks more like Sparks than he does his own father. Sparks’ sexy-ass definitely could have spit him out as his own. “…You know he asked him to be in the wedding.”

“No, I didn’t know that. But I’m not surprised. I figured he would.”

“Oh, and trust,” she says, putting the mirror down and giving me an accusing eye, “I just know you got me in the wedding since I’m the one who hooked ya ass up with him. Miss I Ain’t Beat To Meet No One.”

I laugh. “Girl, that goes without saying. If it weren’t for you, there’s no telling who I might have ended up with. My man’s definitely a keeper.” I finish up the final touches on her hair, then remove the cape.

She gets out of the chair, staring at herself in the mirror. “Girl, as always you hooked a sista up right. I’ll see you in two weeks,” she tells me as she’s walking toward the counter to pay Felecia.

“Hmmph. And make sure you have your ass here on time,” I warn.

She laughs, waving me on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love you, too.”

EIGHTEEN

“
Y
o, you comin’ through today?” Jasper asks, sounding like he’s been up and about for hours. I slept like shit last night. Tossed and turned practically the whole fucking night. Even though it’s been two days since that phone call incident, the nigga’s voice has stayed locked in my head, haunting me.
I’ma ’bout to be your worse fucking nightmare.
I really don’t want to invest too much energy into worrying about whether or not I should take his threats serious. But, then again, I don’t want to take the shit he said to me lightly either.
I’m not gonna think about it, or let this shit worry me,
I think as I yawn and stretch, glancing over at the clock. 6:52
A.M
.
In the goddamn morning! OhmyfuckingGod, this nigga is crazy!
It feels like I just shut my eyes. “I got a four hour pass to look for a job today.”

Jasper has been at the halfway house in Newark for the last three weeks and this is his first opportunity to the leave the building. He tells me that normally it takes longer to get out, but he has this counselor chick who’s been looking out for him.

I purse my lips. “Mmm-hmm. And what does this bitch look like?” I ask, hoping like hell this ho is keeping her professional boundaries in check and this nigga isn’t trying to cross them. I heard how some of them counselors and whatnot working in the correctional system—particularly in the halfway houses—like to fuck with the inmates, so I already know what it is. I’m only hoping Jasper’s ass isn’t dumb enough to get caught up in it.

He sucks his teeth. “Yo, go ‘head wit’ that dumb shit. She’s mad cool. That’s it. Besides, she ain’t got shit on my baby. Trust me. There’s no one up in this joint I’m checkin’ for. It’s all you and that good pussy I’m ’bout to tear up.”

“Mmmph,” I grunt, stretching. “If you say so.”

“Pasha, don’t start ya shit, yo. You hear me, girl?

I yawn again, ignoring him. “What time can you leave?”

“I can bounce at nine. I gotta go fill out a few bullshit-ass applications to keep shit legit, then you already know what it is. I’m tryna grind up in them hips. We can slide off to the crib or get a room, feel me, baby. But I gotta be back up in this bitch by one.”

“What time you want me to come get you?”

He huffs. “Yo, what the fuck is you doin’? Didn’t you hear any- thing I just said? I told you I can bounce outta this muhfucka at nine. So you tell me. What time do
you
think I want you to come?”

“Nigga, don’t start talking shit,” I snap, sitting up in bed. “It’s too goddamn early in the morning for you to be coming out your face all crazy. First of all, you shoulda called me last night and told me this shit. Hell, I spoke to you earlier in the day and you didn’t mention shit about getting picked up. All I asked you is a simple-ass question.”

“Aye, yo, knock all that shit off. Is you comin’ up here or not?”

Luckily I don’t have any appointments scheduled until later this afternoon. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Where you want me to pick you up at?” He tells me that he’s supposed to take public transportation, so he has to leave out of the building and act like he’s going to the bus stop. He tells me to meet him at the gas station-slash-convenience store across the street. “Alright,” I say, finally deciding to get out of bed. “See you at nine.”

“Aiight, bet. Let me go hop in the shower. See you when you get here.” We say our goodbyes, then disconnect.

At exactly nine I pull up into the convenience store-slash-gas station. I don’t see Jasper anywhere, so I back into a parking space, then shut the engine off. As soon as he hops in the car, he leans over and kisses me on the lips. “Damn, baby, you look good,” he says, buckling his seatbelt.

I smile. “You ain’t looking too bad, either.” He’s dressed in a pair of PRPS jeans—where he got them from is beyond me ’cause they definitely weren’t anything he asked me to bring him while he was at the assessment center—a blue and white striped Polo Jersey, and a crisp pair of white Air Force 1s. He has his Yankees fitted cocked to the side.

“Damn, you got my dick hard as hell; smelling all good ’n shit.” He grabs at his crotch. “I can’t wait to get up in that pussy.”

I shake my head, starting the engine, then pulling out of the lot. I make a left, heading toward downtown. We stop at several places where Jasper goes in, then comes right back out with an application. After the fourth spot he does the same thing. Goes inside, then a few minutes later comes out with another application in his hand. I decide to ask him why he isn’t filling them out there. Are you ready for his answer? This nigga tells me, “I ain’t beat. I wanna hurry up and get to a room so we can fuck. I’ll drop ’em back off the next time I get my pass.”

I take my eyes off the road, and stare at him like he’s fucking stupid. “Nigga, are you crazy? Why the hell would you do that? All it takes is ten minutes, if that, to fill out an application.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Don’t you need to get a job?” I ask, feeling myself getting annoyed. Shit, I have to wonder exactly where his head is. And I’m not talking about the one between them muscular thighs of his, either.