Moth to a Flame (2 page)

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Authors: Ashley Antoinette

BOOK: Moth to a Flame
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Chapter One
 
Na, na, na, diva is a female version of a hustla of a hustla, of a, of a hustla
 
“Bitch, why are we bumping this old-ass shit?” Nikki shouted, trying to be heard over the loud subwoofers that vibrated her seat as she bobbed her head to the beat.
“Because ain’t no better way to announce me, babes. ’Im a, a diva I’m a, I’m a, a diva,’” Raven responded with playful arrogance as she whipped her shiny, brand new Lexus Coupe down Clio Road, one of the hottest strips in the entire city. It was the day of the annual Memorial Day celebration, and everybody who was anybody was out riding the strip as they waited for the festivities to begin. Heads turned as everyone tried to catch sight of the infamous Raven Atkins. The lyrics to the song may have been old, but as the local hustlers stopped in their tracks to catch a glimpse of the light-skinned beauty, Raven knew that the words rang true. Around the city of Flint, Michigan, Beyoncé didn’t have shit on her. She was hood royalty, the daughter of Benjamin Atkins—the most notorious kingpin the city had seen thus far—and she wore her title well. Her Coach kicks, tight skinny jeans, and casual, white baby tee were simple, but the curves of her voluptuous five feet seven inches frame transformed simple into chic. Niggas were thirsty as they tried to get at her, spitting whack game, each hoping that he would be the lucky one she chose. She was so fly that even the bitches couldn’t hate on her; they wanted to, but all they could do was stop and stare while thinking,
she put her shit together so right.
She wasn’t the type of chick who bought knockoffs or rocked hundred-dollar weaves done by ten-dollar beauticians, and she definitely wasn’t the chick who wore a nice hook-up but accessorized her shit all wrong. No, Raven Atkins was a top-notch bitch with top-notch shit, and when she stepped out, not a hair on her head was out of place. She had gotten it from her mama, learning to be a lady from the best who had ever done it. At only seventeen, Raven knew her position and she played it like little ghetto girls played Double Dutch. She was the princess of the city and just in case anyone didn’t know it, she had it tattooed on her wrist and engraved on the plush leather headrests of her car.
“How did you get your dad to let you out the house?” Nikki asked as she pulled down her visor and applied lip gloss.
“He thinks I’m staying the night at your place. You think Auntie Gena will mind?” she asked, turning to her best friend with a concerned look on her face. The last thing she needed was to get caught in a lie by her father. He was extra strict with her, and if he had any idea that she was in the inner city, there would be hell to pay.
“Girl, please ... it’s nothing. You know my mama ain’t tripping, Nikki replied as she stepped out of the car. “You drinking?” she asked as she headed into the liquor store.
“You know it,” Raven called back, still in the car. “Ciroc and lemonade!”
As she watched her friend disappear inside the store, she smiled. They had been true blue since grade school and she loved her dearly. Where other girls had tried to cling to her to upgrade their status, Nikki was there from the very beginning before her father had arrived into his own. She would never forget the love and loyalty that Nikki had shown her over the years. Which was why whenever Raven got something, so did Nikki. It was like Benjamin had two teenage daughters because whatever he bought for Raven, she conned him into buying a matching item for her girl. As she nodded her head to the music, a shiny black Escalade pulled up next to her. Behind the tint of her Chloe sunglasses she eyed the big-boy toy. The bass from the speaker system could be felt all the way in her car, and the dark-skinned, freshly Caesred eye candy sitting comfortably behind the wheel caused her to raise her glasses and look his way.
He noticed her staring and gave her a nod. He smirked as she lowered her glasses and turned up her radio. Licking his lips, he reached for his own custom system and drowned out her volume. The sounds of Young Jeezy invaded her car. Not one to be outdone, she frowned in displeasure as she turned off her car and walked inside the store. She stepped with a model’s precision and commanded attention as her hips swayed from side to side, but the one dude she hoped would be watching had switched his focus to another girl.
What the fuck? Is he serious?
she asked herself as she quickly assessed her competition. A Reebok broad with ass for days had stolen the dude’s attention away from her. Even Raven had to admit the girl did have a humongous ass. There was no way her size-ten jeans could compete with that. She rolled her eyes and turned to go into the store, but Nikki was already on her way out.
“What’s up? Did you forget something?” Nikki asked.
Giving the dude another glance, she shook her head. “Nah, I was just coming in to see what was taking so long. I’m ready to go inside the club.” Raven walked back to her car and gave the dude one last glance before pulling away. She checked her rearview mirror to see if he had stepped out of the car, and noticed that he was sporting out-of-town plates.
Missouri,
she thought. Her interest in him immediately doubled. There was nothing better than putting claims on a fresh out-of-town nigga like him. Flint was so small that everybody knew everybody. An unknown face was a challenge, and the rule always was that the first chick to become wifey won. Raven knew that the dude didn’t know who she was, but when he checked her status he would come to his senses.
I might not give the nigga no kick it just for showing out,
she thought. She popped in her Chrisette Michele and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving skid marks on the pavement while Chrisette crooned from her speakers and serenaded the envious onlookers.
“Damn, look at the line to get in,” Nikki commented as they pulled into the parking lot of The Palm Tree, a small club on the city’s north side.
“You know I’m not waiting in line,” Raven stated as she parked and hopped out. She bypassed the entire line, speaking to people she knew as she made her way to the front. The bouncer stopped her dead in her tracks.
“No, no, baby girl ... Your father is not about to have my fucking head,” he said as he refused to let her in. Jerome was one of her father’s old bodyguards and he knew the repercussions that could come his way if he allowed her inside.
“Jerome! Don’t play me. Come on, let me and my girl in. You know I’m the life of the party. Raven planted one hand on her hip.
“I can’t do it, Rae. What you doing out here anyway, ma? You ain’t even old enough to be up in here,” he reasoned. “You gon have me lose my job if I let you up in this mu’fucka.”
Raven pulled out a wad of money and peeled off two hundred dollar bills. She placed them in his shirt pocket as she smiled sweetly, and stepped into the club, disregarding his protests. “Thank you, Jerome! I’ll make sure I tell my daddy you said what up!” she shouted over him as she waved her fingers and strolled in. He shook his head in doubt.
“Nah, if your pops find out don’t say shit about me, Rae. I’m serious! I didn’t let you in here!” he yelled as she disappeared into the establishment with Nikki holding her hand.
Everybody showed her love as she navigated through the wall-to-wall crowd. “Damn, it ain’t even any tables left,” Nikki said as she checked her Cartier. “It’s not even eleven o’clock and it’s already packed.”
“I know! I didn’t come here to sit down anyway,” Raven stated as she made her way to the dance floor. She lifted her hands and swayed arrogantly to the club track as she snapped her fingers. She and Nikki were the center of attention, everyone around them raising their hands to rock with the beat as the twosome did their thing. Conceit was written all over both of their faces. They were so much alike that they played off of each other’s movements as they commanded the crowd.
A couple of songs passed before they decided to end their show and make their way over to the bar. Raven felt someone grab her hand. She turned, and smiled when she saw who was trying to get her attention. As her eyes scanned him quickly she saw that he was attractive. He passed all of her tests. In order for a dude to even step to her he had to qualify. She had a rule system and, unlike so many others, her rules were not made to broken.
Rule 1: The dude had to be fine as hell, and as she stared at this dude’s grey eyes she had to admit that there wasn’t an ugly gene in his body.
Okay, check,
she thought.
Rule 2: The dude couldn’t be a cornball-ass nigga. There was nothing worse than a corny man, and she could tell if a guy had swag or not just by the way he walked. The dude in front of her didn’t try too hard to be cool. He exuded confidence in a casual stroll, and not once did he grab his penis which was a plus in her book. She hated dudes who walked around holding their crotches. It usually meant that there wasn’t much to hold on to. The gesture was crass and unattractive, for sure.
Okay, check,
she thought, growing more impressed by the second. She continued to inventory him in her head.
Rule 3: Any dude trying to mess with her had to be paid. She came from a long line of hustlers and get-money cats, so any dude trying to impress her would have to be a thoroughbred just like her daddy.
Is he paid?
she asked herself.
Yeah, nigga, you paid. That presidential you rocking ain’t affordable to many ... check.
Rule 4: The nigga shoe game had to be on point, and as she peeped at his brand new Air Jordans she was satisfied. They were official; straight out of Foot Locker, not the hood corner store.
Dude passed her tests with flying colors without having a clue that she had just peeped, his entire style in just a few seconds.
His boyish features made her smile, but she knew that she was fucking with a grown man just from the way he looked at her. He walked up on her as if he knew her, not leaving any personal space between them.
“What up, ma? You getting a lot of love in here. I just came over to find out who the star is,” he whispered in her ear. “What’s your name?”
“Raven, but you can call me Rae,” she answered sweetly.
“Rae, you want to come have a drink with me?” he asked.
“I got my girl with me,” she replied as she shook her head to decline his offer. That was one thing she never did: leave her girl on stuck to kick it with a dude.
“Your girl can come too,” he stated as he put his arms around Raven and Nikki. He escorted them to his table where a few of his friends were popping bottles and enjoying the club scene.
“I don’t even know your name,” she whispered in his ear as she cradled a drink in her hand. Her underage lips touched the glass. She sipped the vodka and cranberry while awaiting his response.
“I’m Mizan,” he replied as he took her drink from her. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” she answered quickly as she snatched her drink back. She already knew she would lie when he asked her. A dude like Mizan could have his pick of the women in the room, and she knew that if she revealed her real age he would instantly dismiss her. “Why? How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two,” he replied.
Just as she was about to respond she spotted the cutie she had seen earlier at the store. Her eyes followed him across the room. He looked good enough to eat and she instantly decided that one day he was going to be her man. She stared at him from across the room, her eyes burning a hole through him. He must have felt the heat because he looked up and their eyes met. Neither of them made it a point to look away too quickly. As she studied every feature on his face she was mesmerized. Everything about him was so on point. His hood swagger was out of this world. She was on cloud nine as people partied around her. Only when the DJ cut the music did she snap out of her trance.
“The fire department is shutting us down! We’re over capacity!” he shouted over the microphone. “Party’s over!”
Boos and groans erupted throughout the crowd and Raven stood up, Nikki by her side.
“It looks like our night has been cut short,” she said, facing Mizan.
“It doesn’t have to be. We can kick it back at my place,” he answered as he led her out of the club.
Raven frowned and replied, “I don’t know you like that.” A part of her wanted to roll out with Mizan and his crew, but she knew that if her father ever found out she had gone back to a nigga’s crib he would kill her, and probably Mizan too.

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