Durty South Grind (29 page)

With a sweet smile on her face, she cooed, “Here you go, baby; figured you'd want this.” She handed him a small bottle of Scope from a pair of dainty little hands that were fashioned with designer nails and several gold and platinum rings.

Her feminine aroma was just as intoxicating as Princess's. He stepped back smiling at her glittering eyes. “Thank you, sweetheart. You're a real doll.”

She batted those big brown puppy dogs at him, spun around like a perky pixie and poked her round little donkey butt out as she sashayed away with a sweet smile dimpling her rosy cheeks.

He shook off the sexually induced trance the girls had caused and closed the door. After taking care of his hygiene, he bid them adieu. He considered calling Rainbow but decided to go to Debra's to check in first. His intuition told him that besides doing that scam, there was no telling what would come next. Rainbow was as wild as ever. As he crossed over I-20, he looked up at the gathering clouds and wondered if it was an omen of whether anything would go wrong.

T
he unexpected rain caught Black Don totally by surprise as he parked his dark blue Lexus. He took a quick peek into the mirror to check out the chinstrap he'd gotten the barber to trim up. Damn, he did favor that nigga 50 Cent when he angled his face a certain way. Maybe them bitches weren't bullshitting him when they teased him about the resemblance. Hell, both of them were top players so it was all good.

A pair of headlights flashing from the other side of the hotel snapped him out of his short reverie. The distorted vision caused by the rain and accompanying mist had him contemplating venturing across the hotel's parking lot to the hoes' room. The jittery feeling he was experiencing had him wondering if he was tripping off the heavily laced blunt he had sucked up earlier. This was just before he had gotten the call from Big Bertha about the attempted robbery.

As the rain started to bang harder on the windshield, he wondered why his little crew of niggas hadn't answered his calls. Now that really had him pissed. He was used to them being at his beck and call whenever he wanted them to be.

Fucking younguns. Damn, you can't rely on their unstable asses for nothing when you sho nuff need
'
em.
He kicked the door open. He pulled the hood of his leather jacket over his head and stepped into the downpour. In a crouch, he jogged across the lot. He hated
coming to these haunts, especially this one with this mini-jungle surrounding the back and sides of the hotel. It really gave him the creeps. By the time he reached the walkway, he didn't know whether he was shivering because of the freezing rain or the paranoia effect of the blunt.

He rapped on the door and froze when a chilling sound made him shake from head to toe. He was leery but turned around curious with fear. He went into a defensive crouch when he thought he saw something move in the mini-jungle along the embankment sloping from the interstate. Was one of his enemies lurking in the bushes? Was this whole robbery bit a setup to catch him in a fucked-up situation? The goose bumps along his arms were no joke.

He jumped again when he heard the nerve-wrecking sound again. He squinted at what appeared to be movement for several seconds before he realized that it was only the wind.

“Damn, I've got to stop fucking with this coke so damn much. Shit's got me shaking like a leaf. Aw man, what the fuck was that?” he muttered before he realized it was his car keys dangling in his pocket. Heaving a sigh of relief, he wiped his face and blew into his fist to calm himself down. Shaking away the jitters, he cranked his neck in a couple of circles, turned to finally knock on the door and nearly jumped out of his skin when it was snatched open.

“I thought I heard—” she started to say when her breath caught at the sight of the gun aimed in her face. She flinched from the wild look in his eyes and stepped to the side.

“Girl, don't be scaring me like that. You can get yourself blown away with that shit,” he spat angrily as he replaced the nine-milli Glock back under his armpit.

Frowning, she spat back, “Man, what's wrong with you? All I did was open the door because I heard something out here.”

Ignoring her angry stare, he barged into the room. She backed up to the bed and sat down, in no mood for a nonsense confrontation.

Feeling the need to maintain his gangster image, he eyed Mercedes, one of the dancers who worked at the strip club he partly owned on the east side of town on Lee Street. In the short time she'd been dancing at the club, he'd really taken a liking to the little Vietnamese honey, but in an effort of hard playerhood, he refused to show her any weakness. He turned to his usual gorilla control and growled, “Why ya'll bitches wait this long before ya'll told me about this shit?”

Bertha, the big-boned honey, recognized the coke glaze in his eyes and mustered the energy to deal with the situation. There was no telling how they might react to any kind of defensiveness. She swallowed and started fidgeting with her white gold heirloom necklace as she muttered in a low voice, “We didn't really want to bother you, baby, because the niggas ain't get away with but three or four dimes. Shit, it was more like a snatch robbery but I figured you'd want to know about it anyhow.” She batted her long eyelashes innocently.

He'd barely heard her, as thoughts of little Mercedes lapping between Bertha's big red thighs caused his dick to stir. And since he didn't want them to see his shit rising in his pants, he started pacing back and forth between them.

After a few anxious moments, he finally regained control of his dick and went to lean against the dresser under the television. He took a deep breath, bowed his head and started rubbing the stubble on his chin. “For one, I want to know if you've seen them niggas around anywhere; and two, why in the hell you ain't at work? Especially you, Bertha, because you know damn well that I don't trust those other bitches to be trying to run thangs. And
three, you could've told me this weak-ass shit whenever I saw you again at the club.”

He eyed the both of them very suspiciously for a few seconds before he started twisting his neck in short circles, enjoying the crackling sensation of the tension release. He straightened up and went to sit beside Mercedes.
Damn, this little thang reminds me of a delicate China doll.
He placed his arm around her shoulder. He blinked several times, fighting off the hypnotic effect of her dark almond-shaped eyes as she looked dreamily into his. “You comfortable with your routine, cutie pie?”

She hunched her little shoulders, smiled demurely and said, “Uh-huh, but I wish I was getting more tips from the guys, though.”

Her sweet voice sent shivers down his spine. He quickly smiled back at her. “You do, do you?”
Boy, I sure wouldn't mind sliding up in her little fine ass right now.

Mercedes started fidgeting slightly because of the wicked glitter in his eyes and smiled innocently into his face.

He reached into his coat pocket to get a slim cherry blend cigar, took his time lighting it and blew some halos. Crossing and then uncrossing his legs, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Tell you what, little princess; I want you to start working on the pole…I mean
really
work the pole, like you fucking it.” His eyes twinkled into an empty stare as he added, “Oh yeah, baby.” He started nodding his head as his lips turned down like he was on a heroin high. “Oh yeah, fuck that pole like you riding the best dick in the world. I betcha them sex-deprived muthafuckas will make it rain green up in that bitch if they see that there.” He was secretly wishing that he could be that pole.

She squinted at the wall for several seconds before she angled her head sideways with an ever-widening smile. She began waggling
her legs as she nodded, then mumbled, “I think I can do that.”

“You think you can?” He frowned at her.

She opened her mouth into a sexy “O” and licked her pouty lips before she batted her lashes. “Yeah, I can do that, uh-huh, I'm gonna do that.” She squirmed around on the bed and started bouncing up and down.

He smiled and used his elbows to prop himself up. “That's my girl.” He stood over her thinking all kinds of freaky thoughts and gently squeezed her chin. Then he looked over to Bertha. “Damn, redbone, you really geeking, ain'tcha?”

Bertha was peeking through the curtains with a stern look. “Hell naw, man. I ain't geeking, like yo ass. I'm just making sure that everything's clear out there. Hell, them niggas didn't roll up on you; they rolled up on me and shortie girl there.”

“So whatcha trying to say?” Black Don growled as he walked toward her.

She wasn't daunted at all now by his menacing stare and walked around him, mumbling.

He got pissed, feeling like she was straight up disrespecting him, especially in front of this little honey he was trying to impress with his gorilla. He growled angrily as he followed her sassy strutting ass. “What the fuck you say, bitch?” She continued on to the back of the room and started brushing her hair in the mirror.

He mumbled under his breath, “This big bitch ain't fronting on me for the sake of this little ho, I know.” He hissed between clenched teeth as he started toward her with his fists balled up at his sides. His paranoid anger got the best of him and he raised his hand to give her a hard backhand slap.

He froze in midswing as his eyes registered on the gleaming switchblade that had magically appeared in her hand. Her hissing
lips were just as menacing as she growled, “Nigga, your ass must think that I'm one of them scary-ass bitches that be bowing down to your ass.”

As he stood there shocked, she flipped the blade from one hand to the other like a real pro and sneered, “Go ahead, muthafucka, which side of your black ugly-ass face do you want me to start on? Don't make me a bit of difference, yo.”

With her having the ups, he knew that it was best to chill, for the moment anyway. So he threw his hands up and backed away to give her some space. Still he had to save at least a little face and played it cool by pinching his nose. “Okay, redbone, I'll give you this one, but don't be making no habit of drawing no weapon on me.”

She was psyched for battle if that was the way he wanted to carry it. She had enough of that bullying shit from her days of whoring for Rainbow; she wasn't about to bow down for him. “Yeah, whatever, nigga. All I wanted to do was let you know that these niggas around this bitch was starting to disrespect your turf, so your ass needs to tighten up your game around here.”

Realizing that she indeed had a point, he started massaging his brow and sat down on the bed. He leaned against the headboard to regain his composure before he sat up straight. “I thought you said that you didn't know the niggas that jacked you.”

She squinted at him, trying to figure out how serious he was before responding, “I don't know who they were.”

He tilted his head back and started at her for a moment. “So what in the fuck are you talking about then?”

She refused to turn away from his stare, knowing that is what he expected her to do. “I'm talking about other folk slanging out of this hotel. And I hate to say it but their stuff is better than the stuff you gave us, and the package is bigger, too.”

That certainly got his attention as he stood back up. “Who? Where?”

She leaned her ample hips up against the wall and folded her arms. “Somebody is fronting some butch bitch and a black Amazon down there in the last room.” She leaned forward and stared him directly in the eyes defiantly. “And that little butch bitch has the kind of look that'll make a nigga back the hell up if they ain't ready for some physical contact, if you know what I mean. In other words, the little bitch is ready to solve problems if they come up; you feeling me on this. That goes to show you that there's some serious competition going on around this joint. Whoever is backing these hoes, I think you need to hang around and check this shit out, man. That's all I'm saying.”

He looked down at his watch before he set her with a cold icy stare. “Check this here out, redbone; you and shorty go on ahead to the club and I'll check on this little problem here.” He turned away and walked out of the room.

He sat in the car, pondering what to do, until he saw Bertha and Mercedes leave the room a few minutes afterward, get into Bertha's red Mustang and split the scene.

His first thought was to follow them and see how that big bitch acted when he got the ups of her, but he quickly changed his mind. Checking out the competition was much more important. So he sat and watched the comings and goings of the traffic in the room they'd told him about. After it stopped raining, he didn't want to be sitting in the car looking all conspicuous, so he eased out of the car to go check out the competition.

The noon-day traffic on I-20 was bumper to bumper as Beverly contemplated getting off at the East Lake exit even though she preferred not driving through her old neighborhood. While she maneuvered through the cars munching on a Wendy's egg and
sausage biscuit and sipping gingerly on her steaming hot cup of cappuccino, a bolt of nostalgia hit her. She pulled over to the emergency median and sped to the exit ramp.