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Authors: D.Y. Phillips

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BOOK: Love Trumps Game
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EIGHT

“T
opps! How the hell you get a key to my place?” Neema tried to play it off like it was no big deal, even though she had posed the question. After all, he did pay her rent from time to time. The times when he didn't, the money she had stolen from him did.

“I been had a key.”

Neema rethought things and decided not to play a damn thing off. She was mad that he had barged in to her crib. “Well, a nigga coulda told me that shit. You stepping in here unannounced ain't right.”

She sniffed to keep her nose from losing some of the blow she'd flown earlier. Honest to God, she was getting tired of this man constantly checking her like she was some lowlife criminal. “I mean, I know you sometimes pay the rent on this mutha, but damn, boo.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Screw you,
she thought. Neema headed to the kitchen, came back with three bottles. “Here bitch, have some water.” She tossed one bottle to Kaykay before placing one on the table and shooting Topps an irritated look. “You have a key to my crib; I should have one to yours. That's how I feel about it.”

“Yeah, right.” Topps closed and locked the deadbolt behind him, then put the chain on for extra assurance. “I was in the neigh
borhood and spotted your ride parked outside. Thought I'd stop by. Hope I'm not disturbing you ladies.”

“Nah, boo. You not disturbing nothing. I ran to the crib to use the restroom. You know how I am about using public facilities. I was on my way back out.” She had to admit, he looked good in those super-creased jeans and dark knit shirt. Gulping water, she watched him.

“On your way to deliver? No shit?” He walked slowly over to the table where he spotted her tote bag with his product in it. He snatched it up.

“Boo, I said I was on my way out. I had to pee real bad.”

“When I talked to you earlier, you were on your way back from dropping off. Ain't that what you said?”

“Yeah, but, that was because I had to pee, baby. You know how you feel about public restrooms. They full of germs.”

“True dat. But still, you lied to me, Nee.” He took his bag of product out for a good examination. The weight felt about the same, but that didn't mean shit. “I know you not standing there saying that you drove to Hollywood but had to come all the way back to this mutha just to take a piss.”

Kaykay stood up, fumbling for her purse and keys. “Uh, look, girlfriend, I see you have some business to deal with, so I'll give you two some privacy.”

“Sit yo' bitch ass down!” Topps' eyes dared defiance.

“Nigga, who you calling a bitch? I ain't yo' bitch. You must have me confused with…”

“And shut the fuck up!” He pulled out a twenty-two, one of his favorites because it didn't make a lot of noise, in case he had to pop a bitch in her own community. “Now say something else.”

Oh shit. This is getting outta hand!
Neema jumped in with, “Baby, what's wrong? Why you tripping like this?”

He aimed the gun at her. “I'm not playing, boo. You need to shut the hell up, too.”

“Now I know you done lost your ever-loving mind, coming up in here pulling a gun. What's wrong with you, Topps?” Neema walked up on him, but froze in her tracks when he aimed the gun higher at her head. The bottle of water dropped from her hand.

“You my boo and all, but don't get it twisted when it comes to my money, Nee. I'ma find out what the hell is going on up in this mutha.”

“So what you gonna do, Topps? You gonna shoot me now?” Neema made a wide gesture with her arms. “You gonna shoot the mother of your kids?!” Her hands began to tremble, but her face remained straight. It was hard to put on a brave front with a man so unpredictable. Instinct told her to chill.

“I might have to. You know how this shit goes, baby. You play the game wrong, you lose. Damn, don't take it so personally. Now…let's see what's going on here. You and your little bitch friend here go stand next to the wall and chill while Topps check things out. Know what I'm saying?”

“Hell no, I don't know!” Neema rolled her eyes at him.

The two women did what they were told, with Neema huffing and puffing and shaking her head about the injustice of it all. She glanced sideways at Kaykay's hands trembling so badly that she could barely get the cap off of her bottled water.

“Girl, don't sweat him, he's going through one of his male PMS moods; that's all. It'll be okay. Ain't that right, Topps?”

“I'm not playing with you, Nee! You need to shut the fuck up!”

Neema took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She never should have invited Kaykay over for a noontime pick-me-up, knowing how crazy and sneaky Topps could be. He was forever popping up unexpectedly. This was the third or fourth time that
fool had hemmed her up about his product not arriving on time, or money missing. If it wasn't one thing with him, it was something else. She didn't see why he was always sweating her when he had plenty of money and product to deal with.
Should have been a damn detective or a lawyer.
Obviously, the fool had some trust issues. Maybe it was time for a new man.

It took some time, weighing the package. Tasting the product and eyeing the open box of baking soda, the deal wasn't hard for Topps to figure out. “Skimming bitches.”

“Look, I need to get going, if you want that package delivered. You know how that traffic can be. We can argue over this shit when I get back.”

“Nee, don't worry about it. I'll call my client and explain that we had a little delay. I'm sure he'll understand.”

“So what now?” Neema challenged, her face frowned up. “You gonna keep us as hostages, like I did something so wrong? Hell, Topps, I gotta pick the kids up from Mama's house.”

Topps chuckled at that. In fact, he seemed to relax some. “No. In fact, you know what? I'm not even mad at y'all little party with my shit. It's cool. Plenty more where that came from. But check this out. Maybe we all need to chill and party together. That would make Topps really happy right about now.” He looked from one face to the other. A wicked smiled tugged at his lips.

“What the hell that's supposed to mean? And why you keep talking like that?” Neema wished she could go get a wine cooler from her refrigerator to mellow out her nerves. She had known all along that Topps was crazy, and not one to be messing with, but damn, she had no idea he'd pull a gun on her.

“Like I said, don't worry about it. Y'all want some blow, let's do some blow.” He placed the gun down on the table before taking a seat. “C'mon, let's get this party started. Y'all want some blow?”

“Nah.” Kaykay shook her head. “I'm trying to stop. That shit ain't good for you. I…1 need to split back to my crib. My man is waiting on me.”

“Bullshit, Topps says we gonna do some blow. Y'all gonna love this shit 'cause I carry only the best for my friends, so let that nigga wait like everybody else. Get yourself over here.”

“Topps, stop it. The girl told you that she needs to get home.”

“Yeah. I heard, and she will after we party a little bit. No party, nobody leaving this mutha, and that's word. Now, do as I say and bring yo' asses over here.” From his pocket, Topps took out a small brown vial and removed the black top. “Like I said, I keep the good stuff for good friends.” A tiny pile of the white powder was spread on the same mirror Neema and Kaykay had utilized earlier. “Come try this,” he said, after sectioning off five lines with the same index card. “Yo, who's going first?”

“This stupid-ass, childish nigga,” Neema mumbled under her breath. She took a quick glance at her Cartier watch before stomping over to the table. As much as she liked flying lines up her nose, his offer really wasn't a problem. She kept it quick. “Here, Kaykay,” she said, offering the cut straw. “Might as well get it over with.”

“Bitch, you crazy. How you know it ain't poison he try'n give us?”

Topps took the straw and flew one short line. “Like I said, only the best for good friends. You wanna leave here, we party first. Your choice, shortie.” Topps didn't look up at her. “We could be here all night. Days even.”

“Hell, Kaykay, just do what he says so we can get on with our lives. I gotta get up out of here to pick up my kids.”

Kaykay walked over. Hesitantly, she snatched up the straw and flew two lines. “There,” she hissed, throwing the straw down. “Freaking satisfied?”

“Yeah, bitch. You could say that. But I'ma be more satisfied when we get this party in full swing.” Topps stood up. “Now, it's time to get clean.”

“Topps, baby, please…please don't start that shit. You got a problem with me, deal with me.”

He took the gun up. “You know how I do it, Nee. Let's take this party to the shower.”

Neema screamed, “I'm not fucking playing with you!”

Topps was in her grill in a flash. He grabbed her. “Do I look like I'm playing, Nee?” His harsh words were followed up with a back-handed slap. “This ain't no game; this real.”

Neema grabbed her face before making a lunge, but Topps was quick-aiming. Would he actually shoot her in the face? “Crazy fool! You didn't have to hit me like that.”

“You bitches are too much, you know that? Stealing my shit and acting like I'm wrong when you get caught. Fucking crazy. Now get your asses in there.”

“Ain't nobody stole shit from you! Why you bugging?”

“Oh, it's 'bout to be crackin' in a minute.” He aimed the gun in their direction. “Like I said, we taking this party to the shower area. You play, you pay. So you got two choices. Party and go home alive, or refuse and get popped. I can have a few of my soldiers here to clean up my mess in no time, and be on my way.”

Seconds passed with a stare-down.

“What's he saying, Neema? What the hell he planning to do? I ain't into no freaky-deaky shit with no female!”

“Hell, Kaykay, I don't know, but c'mon. Just do what he says.”

The women walked ahead of him to the restroom. The gun was still in Topps' hand. In a matter of minutes he had the two women undressed in the shower and soaping up each other like it was a video being made for profit, but not before applying a few licks upside Kaykay's stubborn head to help her cooperate.

“Oh yeah. This shit pleases Topps very much.” He swooned as he watched the two brown bodies lather up one another in soap. Once the powdered “E” he'd given them earlier had kicked in, the two seemed more natural at trying to please him. At least they weren't fighting it. Hell, it seemed like they were enjoying it.

“Kaykay's ass needs more soap on it, baby. Lather that mutha up good.” Topps licked his lips. He put the gun on the bathroom counter so he could shed his own clothes, and then sat on the chair he'd dragged into the bathroom. “Don't forget those pussies, ladies. They need some soaping, too. Yeah, just like that. That's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Soap that juicy shit up good. Get up in it.”

“Boo, how long we have to do this?” Neema asked, her words slurred.

“Until I say stop. Oh yeah, that's sweet. Rub those nipples good. And let Kaykay wash your snatch good, too. That's right, open that shit up and make it clean like a mutha. Hell, y'all good at this shit. I need my camcorder right about now.”

“How much longer, boo? We tired.”

“Hell, we barely getting started.” Topps got up and walked to the shower to join them. “Nothing like a little ‘E' to get a party rolling.”

Neema's shower wasn't as commodious as his, but there was enough room for three bodies to get close. “Yo, turn y'all fine asses around. Face the wall. You know how I like cleanliness,” he said lustfully, lathering soap from one tight round ass to the other. There was no need to worry about either woman trying anything because all three were feeling pretty good from the “E.” In fact, the women seemed to be enjoying the shower as much as he was.

Topps wasted no time running soapy hands up through their thighs to their hot privates. He inserted slippery fingers into double moistness as his body rubbed up against both backsides. Damn,
he was in second heaven with not one but two pussies. All for him.

“Damn. This the lick here. We can take this party to the bedroom.”

Taking both by the hand, he pulled them to the bedroom where he wasted no time putting on a condom and pumping one, then the other. His manhood was still in full bloom when he lay back along the bed.

“Brain time. And this the deal. The one that gets me off first gets to leave first.” He looked from Neema to Kaykay. “Hell, the way I'm feeling, I might let you bitches leave without the bonus beat down I was planning.”

“Here, I'll go first.” Kaykay grabbed his rod like she owned it. She got straight busy with it, like there was no tomorrow.

Jealousy flashed in Neema's eyes but she couldn't say one word; watching her good friend mouth-clamp her man's dick. If it hadn't been for her greed, they wouldn't be in the predicament to begin with. It made her mad to watch, and yet, in a way, it also turned her on.
Yeah, girl, suck that big dick like your life depends on it
, she thought. And in a way, maybe it did.

NINE

A
promise was a promise. Sunday after church service, Hattie headed to the nearest Walmart where she planned to let Brandon and Raynita pick out one toy each for behaving so well during Reverend King's sermon. The weather was perfect, not too much sun, not too little. Just right.

“Who wants to climb in the basket?” Hattie asked, steering the metal cart toward the store entrance. Reverend King's sermon still had her feeling good inside; despite the fact that it had been eight days since Neema had dropped the kids off without so much as a phone call.

“I do, Nanny! I do!” Raynita wasted no time climbing in, leaving little room for Brandon. She placed her little purse in her lap and adjusted her dress like a proper, little lady.

“What about you, Brandon?”

Brandon gave a weary look. “Nanny, that's for babies.”

“I ain't no baby!” Raynita protested.

“Yes, you are. Daddy says you are. A big crybaby.”

“I'm not.”

“You are. Big crybaby, and a snitch, too.”

“Okay, okay,” Hattie interrupted. All of her good church feelings started slipping away. “You two need to stop all that bickering over nothing. Didn't you two hear a word that Reverend King preached earlier? Families need to stay close and love one another; not fight all the time.”

Raynita rolled her eyes. “He started it. He always talking 'bout somebody.”

“Big baby! Big baby!” Brandon teased, making a face at his sister.

“You make me sick! I hate you!” Her purse in the air, Raynita threatened to hit hard.

“I said stop it!” Hattie snapped. She dared either one to say another word. “If you two don't behave, we can forget about getting toys and go home. Maybe some time out in bed will help you two think about your behavior.” Hattie stopped and gave them “the look” again. Heck, the “stern face” used to work good for her kids when they were little, but her grandchildren were different. “The look” didn't mean a darn thing.

“Nanny, why you look crazy like that?”

“Hush up, Brandon, before I pinch a plug outta your arm.”

“And I'll tell my mama.”

“Boy, what good would that do? Y'all mama been gone for eight days now. I hardly think she'd worry about you getting pinched. Shoot, when I see her, I might have to pinch her behind a few times.”

Raynita giggled. “Nanny, you can't pinch Mama.”

“Humph. Wait and see.” Hattie had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from saying more. She was upset. No, she was beyond upset. How dare Neema presume it was okay to dump her kids off for more than a week and not leave an emergency number? What if one of the kids got sick? Or some kind of emergency came up? She had no power-of-attorney, no health insurance card, no medical records, no nothing. If it hadn't been for her scrupulous saving over the years, she wouldn't have the extra money to feed extra mouths or take the kids on a shopping trip.
Oh well!
She sighed. All she could do was make the best of it until Neema came to her senses and showed back up.

“Excuse me.” Hattie maneuvered her shopping cart around a fat woman with four kids. The woman looked too tired and too old to be the mother.
Probably another poor grandmother being taken advantage of.
“Do you know where the toys are kept?”

The plump-faced woman frowned back at her. “Do I look like I work here?”

“You don't have to be rude about it. Geez.”

It took going up and down a few aisles, but Hattie located the toy area. “Remember now. One toy only and nothing over twenty dollars 'cause I'm not rich.” Both children picked two and three items and whined for them.

“Please, Nanny, please.”

“Nita, what part of
just one toy
didn't you understand? You and Brandon also need other items.” As usual, the store was crowded and Hattie wanted to get in and out so she could get back to her place to relax and soak her feet. The plan was to pick up a few clothes for the children as well, seeing how Neema hadn't packed enough. Both Brandon and Raynita needed more underwear and some house slippers. “I'm tired of washing y'all clothes every other day.”

“Are we going to school tomorrow?”

“I don't know, Brandon. I might have to take you if Neema don't show up.” The kids had already missed a week of school. Hattie couldn't see them missing another one. The school they attended was quite a distance away, but if she had to, she'd take them.

“I like school,” Raynita announced, playing with the new doll she picked. “I wanna see my friends.”

“I hate school.” Brandon tossed his toy into the shopping cart. “It takes too long and it's stupid. Gangstas don't haft to go to school.”

“Boy, stop talking crazy before I pop you upside the head.”

“Nanny, that's child abuse. I'll call nine-one-one.”

“Brandon, hush up.”

Shopping done, Hattie got in line to pay for her items before proceeding to the store's main exit. “Let's go home and have some lunch. Y'all hungry?”

Raynita asked, “Can we stop at McDonald's? Please, Nanny, please.”

“Please nothing, and no, we can't. We have food at the house.” Hattie smiled down at the two, who seemed happy with their selections. Brandon had chosen some kind of plastic gun that worked with rubber darts, after promising that he wouldn't aim it at his sister's face. Raynita was still going on about the fancy-dressed Barbie she picked.
Look at 'em,
Hattie thought with pride swelling.
They really are good kids. They just need more love, guidance and attention.

“I have five Barbie dolls now, Nanny.”

“That's nice, sweetie,” said Hattie, waiting for the door clerk to check her receipt. This Lakewood location was the only Walmart she knew that checked the receipts of the blacks and Latinos as they exited the building.

“Thank you, Nanny.”

“You welcome, sweetie.” Hattie handed the receipt over and waited for the clerk to mark it with a yellow highlighter. “Have a nice day.” Finally they were on their way home. She couldn't wait to get out of her hot go-to-church dress and relax. The second she stepped through the door scanner it sounded off. The clerk was right behind her, asking her to please step to the side.

“What? What's wrong?” Hattie asked, perplexed. Instant embarrassment flooded her senses. She shopped at Walmart all the time, but had never been stopped after having her receipt checked.

“It's probably nothing, ma'am.” The clerk asked to see her
receipt again, then looked through her bags to re-check her purchases. “Sometimes the cashier forgets to deactivate the anti-theft tag. You don't mind if I take a look in your purse, do you?”

“Why would you need to do that?” Hattie asked, making a face. This was the first time that she'd ever experienced something like this. “Sure,” she said, opening her purse up for inspection.

The fat, brown clerk was still looking for something when a pink-faced man walked up and identified himself as store security, then instructed Hattie to follow him to the back. Feeling like some convicted criminal from
America's Most Wanted,
Hattie wanted to hide her face from the shoppers that stopped to watch them. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life. If they didn't find something to justify being treated this way, she'd get a lawyer and sue. They had a lot of nerve, treating decent church folks this way.

“Why? What's going on? I paid for my items.” Regardless, Hattie did what she was told and followed the casually dressed man to a back room where she and the children were asked to remove everything from their pockets and purse. “I don't understand what all this is about. I hope you don't treat all your customers like this.” Now that she thought about it, she'd seen that same man several times in the same aisles with them, pretending to be a shopper.

“There? Satisfied?” All their belongings were laid out on a big wooden table where two store security personnel stood waiting for Raynita to empty her purse. The girl was clutching the thing like her very life depended on protecting its contents.

“Nita, give the man your purse so we can hurry up and get out of here. I might have to go home and call Jacoby and Myers about this. It makes no sense. I shop at Walmart all the time and never had this kind of problem.”

“No, Nanny, it's my purse!”

“He's not asking to borrow the thing, Nita. He just wants to look inside. Give it to him.”

“No. Nanny!”

“Here, I'll do it, Nanny.” Brandon got up from his chair and snatched the purse hard away from her. He ignored her wail of protest as he turned it upside down and out tumbled a few items that Hattie hadn't paid for, along with the new cell phone her father had given her.

“Nita, what in the world…” Hattie felt her heart sink. She looked up at the pink faces that looked down at her.

A first-time offense, that's what they called it. Hattie couldn't have been more grateful that the store security let them go with a strict warning and of course, Nita was banned from that Walmart. Heck, Hattie didn't know if she was welcome again in Walmart, thanks to Raynita.

“I really appreciate this. You can believe that it won't happen again. I had no idea the child would steal. I'm so sorry.” Hattie couldn't thank the people enough for not calling the police and having them taken down and booked like common career criminals.

“I can't believe this little nappy-headed child,” Hattie mumbled to herself as they made their way out the store and to her car. A good belt whipping? No dessert and no television? What would be the best punishment? She felt like taking Raynita and shaking the black off her right there in the parking lot, but fear of catching a child abuse case stopped her. “Lord, please give me the patience…” She blew out a hard breath. Stealing was bad enough, but that girl stealing while she was out with her took the cake. And another thing that disturbed her, that darn cell phone. Raynita had that cell phone all along and never mentioned it. She felt like slapping her.

“Nita, I hope it was worth it.” She seatbelted the girl in and slammed the car door.

“I'm sorry, Nanny.” The child had big crocodile tears streaming down her face. “I wanted some new clothes for my Barbie and you said no.”

“A crybaby and a thief. Wait 'til I tell Mama.”

“Brandon, hush up, and I mean it. And how long you had that darn cell phone, Nita?” Hattie started the engine and waited a few seconds before backing out the parking space.

“I been had it. Daddy bought it for me.”

“Girl, I specifically asked you if you had your mother's new cell number and you told me no. Didn't you?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Nita sniffed, crying silent. “I forgot I had it.”

“What about you, Brandon. Where's your cell phone?”

“In my backpack.”

“Is your mother's new phone number in it?”

Brandon shrugged. “I don't know. I haven't used it yet.”

Well, I'll be darn
. “Little nappy-headed kids probably had a number to reach their mama all along. I'm very upset with you, Nita. Very upset. And you can forget about that Barbie doll I bought today. Right now I don't think you deserve it.”

Raynita cried harder, but Hattie wasn't falling for that “instant pity” act.

“Humph. I can't stand no stealing! You better hope I'm feeling better about all this by the time we get back to the house. And stop all that crying before I pull this car over and give you something to cry about!” All her good Christian feelings flew straight out the open car window.

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