King Divas (27 page)

M
y heart trips inside of my chest, making it difficult to breathe
and
stay focused. Has everything that I've gone through with my sister really come down to this, my hunting her in the middle of the night with a group of Flowers? A voice in the back of my head reminds me that at the end of the day, LeShelle and I share the same blood and that should still mean something. However, a stronger, louder voice tells me to fuck all that shit.

“Psst.” Mack tugs my arm. “We're going to split up. Ain't no damn way that bitch showed up here by herself.”

I nod.

“Are you all right?” she asks, peering closer at me. It's dark as fuck out here. What if LeShelle and her crew pick us off before we can get them? “Ta'Shara?” she whispers. “Are you sure you're good with this? It's your call.”

“I'm good,” I tell her. “Stop asking me stupid-ass questions.” In order to keep my head in the game, snapshots of my prom night flash in my head. The men that my
dear
sister allowed to molest me while I cried out for her help. How LeShelle stood there and watched—and then crudely carved the Gangster Disciples initials on the side of my ass like I was some damn cattle. My blood turns ice-cold. I'm more than ready to do this shit.

Mack is staring.

“Go,” I snap. “We don't have all night.”

A slow smile breaks across her face. “Time to go Queen G hunting.” She winks and then scrambles off.

Now that the drugs have slowly left my system, my confidence wanes a bit. I've proven that I'm a good shot, but Profit once pointed out to me that shit is different when faced with an actual moving target. Swallowing a large knot of anxiety, I creep between the bushes and trees and remind myself why I'm here. LeShelle must be stopped—because much sooner than later, she's coming after me too.

But time stretches like a muthafucka in this big-ass park. The bitch could be any fucking where. Are we too late? Are we too early? Too bad we can't raise Qiana's ass from the dead and ask the bitch what time this shit was supposed to go down—or maybe LeShelle didn't think her dumb ass would show up?

“Oh. How much longer is this bitch going to keep us out here?” a voice off to my right asks.

Who the fuck is that?
I crouch down and glance around.

“I know. Right?” a second voice says. “I ain't got all fucking night to be out here with this part-time gangster bitch. Her and Python ain't been running shit for a while any damn way. Why the fuck are we still taking orders from her? Those Vice Lord bitches ain't coming and she got us out here in this wet-ass shit.”

The voices inside of my head split off again. One panicked and the other cold as ice. I stay in the cold side, numbing my feelings as I creep forward.

“Text the bitch back,” one of the voices says. “If she doesn't answer, I say we leave her ass out here.”

An image of Kookie and two other Queen G bitches that were there the night of my rape flashes in my head. LeShelle always has a small pack of minions with her when she does her dirty work. But these two are sloppy. Through the bushes, I see the glow from a cell phone screen. I click off the safety on my weapon, take aim, and fire two muffled shots.

One wrangles out a sharp gasp between the first and second shot, but both targets fall with a soft thump into the wet grass. A smile curves my lips as the cell phone's glowing screen tumbles about a foot away from them.

Standing over the two bodies, I stare and wait for my ass to feel some sort of remorse—but none comes. If anything, there's a deadening inside—and there's a strange sort of freedom in death, a freedom that's exhilarating and consuming. Using my foot, I roll the bodies over so I can get a good look at their faces. Neither of them are Kookie or the other girls that were there the night I was raped. Still: no remorse.

I remind myself that there's no telling how many Queen Gs are out here and to stay on alert. I edge past the two dead bodies to pick up the discarded phone. As I hurry away, I don't pay the same attention to my footing.

I freeze and curse my sloppiness. The rain transforms from a light drizzle to a steady downpour. The phone in my hand vibrates.

 

 

A smile blankets my face as I text LeShelle back.

 

 

I find the free flashlight app on the cell and then swing it wide around me. Before I'm able to make anything out, the muthafucka is shot out of my hand and another bullet whips by my face, burning the side of my cheek. Hand stinging, I fire back.

Return fire comes from every direction. I hit the dirt face first and then crawl to the other side of the bush.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My plans have crumbled all around me.
Stay calm. Stay calm.
That shit proves impossible as my adrenaline skyrockets. Another bullet clips my damaged ear. Out of reflex, I cry out, but then clamp my jaw shut.

Did that bitch come out here with the whole Flower army? How in the fuck did I underestimate that kiddie gang-banger? And where the fuck is my backup?

More bullets whip by my head and I blindly return fire. I scramble from under the bush and make a mad dash toward another oak tree. A bullet sears into my thigh. Shocked, I stumble, and once again hit the ground face first. A tooth rattles around in my mouth. I quickly spit that fucker out, jump back onto my feet, and take off.

In no time, I make it to the lake in the heart of the park. A stone fountain is bubbling and park benches are scattered around. The alarming part is that there are very few areas to hide. I fly across the open field, certain that I hear my attackers gaining ground. Despite the script flipping on my ass, I'm calm enough to try strategizing a way out of this bitch and how to reposition for a better advantage.

Unbelievably, the thrill of the game has me on a high that gets my fucking clit thumping to the point of orgasm. “Come on, you blood clots. Come and get me.”

The seconds that it takes for me to reach the park's fountain feel more like hours. That's when it strikes me that something isn't right about this. They could've put me down a while ago.
They're fucking with your ass.

That's a real possibility, I argue with myself. I also realize that this isn't the time to try and second-guess whether I'm running into a trap. I only have a second to come up with my own chess moves.

I reach the fountain, duck behind it, and then try to pick up on any movement in the direction I came from.

There.
A dark figure races to one of the thin trees dotting the perimeter.

I take aim and fire.

A scream rips through the air as the body stumbles and falls.

Gotcha.
Mentally, I give myself a high five, but know that there are more bitches out there. But where? I push that thought to the side and remain on survivor mode. Once I get my breathing under control, I keep my footsteps light as I continue to move around the fountain. From the corner of my eye, I spot the entrance to a walking path off by the side of the lake. The only problem is that it's close to the body I just dropped. I scan the area for another exit option.

There isn't one.

All right, LeShelle. You can do this shit.
I take a few more seconds to pump myself up and then I take off running. The burning pain in my leg has reduced to a dull ache.

More bullets zip by my head at an alarming rate, but I'm still flying. That is until my shoulder is nailed from the back. I jerk forward and, once again, lose my footing. This time when I hit the ground, my weapon bounces out of my hand and out of reach, and pain ricochets throughout my body.

I make the attempt, but my leg is having none of it.

What the fuck is going on? A new wave of fear nearly stops my heart. This can't be how this shit ends. It can't.

Another bullet blasts through my shoulder. The explosion of pain surprises me as well as the tears that spring to my eyes.

Miraculously, I manage to get back on my feet. I keep going, though I'm not as fast as I was a few minutes ago. It has a lot to do with the fact that I can't get enough air into my lungs. This wasn't how this shit was supposed to go. This was supposed to be a simple hit job on a damn teenager and a fucking baby. How the hell did shit go left? How the fuck could I have gotten shit this fucking wrong? Me?

The next shot drops me like a stone. A fire roars from my left side up toward my lungs.
Noooooo! Get up.

I lift my head from the dark, wet grass and spit out a mouthful of dirt and blood. I cling to denial. I can't die out here. I'm the queen of these fucking streets. Don't these bitches know who the fuck I am?

My life, including a whole bunch of shit that I'd long forgotten about, passes before my eyes as well as all the dreams that are on the verge of happening. Python and I are moving back to Memphis. He's going to reclaim the throne of the Gangster Disciples.

The rain is falling hard now, driven sheets that feel cool against my fevered face and wash away some of the blood dripping from my mouth.

Someone is coming. No. There's more than one. For the first time in a long while, I feel the cold fingers of fear wrap around my heart.
This is it.
Reality bangs against the door of my denial. My mental stability shrinks away. Suddenly this shit is funny as hell.

A bitch kicks my side to roll me over. I laugh until my blurry vision focuses on the face hovering over me.
Ta'Shara?

“Hey, Sis. Long time no see.”

A
n incredible amount of power surges to my head as I stare down at my piece of shit sister, wiggling around in the wet grass. The look on her face is priceless. My girls Dime, Mack, and Romil surround her too.

“What the
fuck
are you doing here?” LeShelle spits. “Where the hell is that Qiana bitch?”

“Sorry. She couldn't make it, but don't worry. You'll be joining her soon enough.” I squat and place the barrel of my gun against her bleeding left side and press.

“AAAAAARRRGH!”

I snicker. Her pain amuses me. After a minute, I ease the pressure on her wound to allow her to catch her breath.

“You fucking bitch,” she hisses through deep gulps of air.

“
I'm
the bitch?” I ask for clarification. “You who couldn't stand to see me happy without you? You who insisted on dragging me down into this fucking gutter to play this shit on your level? You wanna judge me?”

LeShelle hacks up a mouthful of blood and spit and then launches it right into my face.

Enraged, I take the butt of my gun and hammer it back and forth against her face until I hear something crack. When I stop her entire face is covered in blood. She's a grotesque mess. However, in true LeShelle fashion, the bitch starts laughing. It's that same maniacal laughter that she gave from outside the Douglases' burning home. That same laughter that claws at me in my dreams.

It's a question that I didn't mean to ask myself, but's one that I can't just dismiss either.

“What do you want to do?” Mack asks.

“Let's take the bitch for a ride.” I stand up and allow the other Flowers to snatch LeShelle to her feet.

She lets out another scream of pain before collapsing into another fit of laughter. “What the fuck is you going to do, Ta'Shara? Kill me?” She shakes her head and then locks gazes with me. “You don't have the fucking balls. You're not built for this shit like I am. You're out of your damn league.”

“We'll see about that.”

LeShelle's laugh deepens.

Mack, who's had enough, slams the butt of her gun on the back of LeShelle's head, knocking her out cold.

I
wake up wondering why every inch of me hurts and why there is a weird, dirty, metallic taste in my mouth. I try to open my eyes, but the muthafuckas are swollen shut.

“Well, look who's decided to join the party.” A familiar voice laughs.

I redouble my efforts to open my eyes. Sitting in front of me with her head cocked to the side is Ta'Shara. Next to her are two Flowers that she's befriended. Suddenly, everything comes crashing back. I laugh. What fucking fresh hell is this? And how in the fuck did a B-team gangster squad beat me?

“Hello,” Ta'Shara says, smiling. “Comfortable?”

I try to move but can't. I'm tied to a chair. I don't know why, but that shit is funny too.

“Yeah. Chuckle it up,” Ta'Shara says. “I guarantee you that you won't enjoy this as much as I will.”

I laugh and then I notice how vacant her eyes are. No. Not vacant. Dead. My laughter dies and my interest is piqued. I've turned Ta'Shara into a fascinating creature. For the first time, I worry that she really does have the balls to kill me.

She sees that I finally understand the situation and a thin, evil grin slides across her mouth. “While you've been sleeping,” Ta'Shara begins, “I've been trying to decide exactly what I want to do with you. What would be the right retaliation?”

“That's another one of your problems.” I smirk. “You
lack
imagination.” An emotion finally flickers in Ta'Shara's eyes, but then when I blink, it's gone.

All kinds of emotions ripple through me, but it's the anger that I cling to. We lock into an epic staring contest until I crack. “Is this your plan? To stare me to death?” I ask. “Should've known. You're still trying to get your gangster training wheels off.”

“Maybe I'm waiting for you to give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you.”

I'm careful to make sure my smile matches hers. “I can't think of a single thing.”
She can't do it.
For all her bravado and her menacing-looking friends, Ta'Shara is stalling because deep down she's still an uptight, bougie bitch who's in way over her head.

“Why did you have me gang-raped and branded like an animal?”

I struggle to pull it back together and recalculate my position.

“I'm waiting,” she says. “How the fuck was my prom date a threat to your imaginary throne?”

Shaking my head, I continue to smirk at her. “It was the betrayal, you stupid bitch. It's the fact that I stuck my neck out for you time after time to protect you, but when I ask you to do one damn thing
for me
, you wouldn't do it. I hope his ass was worth it.”

Another flicker.

“What? Don't tell me there's trouble in paradise.” I laugh. “Figures. What is it? Another woman?” When Ta'Shara flinches, I know I've hit the jackpot. “HA! Serves you right with your uptight, righteous ass. First thing you learn out here in the streets is ain't no nigga loyal.”

“You had me raped,” she hisses, tryna keep me on subject.

“Girl, bye. Don't whine to me about a couple of rusty niggas fucking you. How many times did I have my pussy stretched the fuck out by all those foster daddies you love so much, huh?” I swallow hard as sweat pours down my face. “You're an ungrateful bitch and you deserve everything that happened that night.”

Both of my knees explode open. “AAAAAAAARRRGH!” I scream at the top of my lungs. When I run out of air, I start hyperventilating. Throughout my performance, Ta'Shara's expression never changes.

“Why did you kill Essence? She was a loyal Queen G and didn't do anything to you.”

Panting, I try to think. “I don't know. It was fucking Tuesday and I was fucking bored.”

She nailed my shoulders. “Awwwww, GODDAMNIT!”
Embrace the pain. Embrace the pain. Own it.
My life's mantra, but it's hard this time. The pain is everywhere.

Ta'Shara cocks her head the other way. “Are those tears I see?” she asks.

I shake my head, but I feel the wetness on my face.

“Awww.” Ta'Shara lowers her weapon, stands, and slowly walks toward me. Against my will I recoil as if scared of my little sister. Once she is within inches of the chair, she leans down close—and then runs her tongue up the side of my bloody, wet face.

“Salty . . . and bitter.”

“Fuck you.”

I grin. At least her backhand isn't as bad as another pistol-whipping.

“You know, I actually thought about lining up a team of Vice Lords so you could experience what it's like to have a train run on you, but then I thought about it and the monster you married, and I concluded that your sick ass would enjoy the shit too much.”

I smirk. “You don't want your big sister to show you how it's done?”

A male's voice booms from the other side of this vacant warehouse. “What the hell are we doing all the way out here?” He and another girl enter the room.

His gaze locks on me before shifting to Ta'Shara. “You found her.” Rage transforms his face into a mountain of granite. How the hell this muthafucka is still breathing is still beyond me. I'd put enough lead in him to stop a damn elephant.

Ta'Shara keeps her attention focused on me. “C'mon in. My sister and I were just finishing a little sister-to-sister conversation.”

Profit snatches out his gun.

I flinch when the safety is clicked off. I have no doubt that this nigga wouldn't waste time jaw jacking and would unload a full clip into me. My hackles rise.
Someone is walking across my grave.
The old saying causes another smile to twitch across my lips. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm not getting out of this shit alive.

“Don't shoot,” Ta'Shara says. “She's all mine.”

Unbelievably, a ray of hope returns, but that's quickly doused when one of her Flowers approaches and the powerful smell of gasoline singes my nose.

Ta'Shara continues with her needling questions. “Why did you kill the Douglases?”

With nothing to lose, I look her right in the eye. “Because you loved them more than me.”

Another emotion flickers in her eyes and just like the two times before, it vanishes. Ta'Shara stands and walks over to her friend with the gasoline can. Like a robot, she takes it, holds it over my head, and pours. A blinding pain rips through me as the flammable liquid pours into my every wound. It burns everything. My eyes. My nose. My mouth.

“You like fire, don't you?” Ta'Shara asks. “You lit Essence on fire. Burned the Douglases and even your friend, Kookie. So my unimaginative ass figured I'll give you what you love.”

Real terror seizes me. “Ta'Shara, wait.”

“Mack?” Her friend hands her a box of matches.

“No. Wait,” I sputter. “Shoot me. Make it quick.”

Still in robot mode, Ta'Shara removes a match, strikes it. “Any last words?”

“Don't do this,” I plea. “I'm your fucking sister.”

“That's where you're wrong. I don't have a sister. Burn in hell, bitch.” With that she flicks the match my way.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”