Still Hood (16 page)
Authors: K'wan
“So be it,” Don B. agreed. “Handle ya business with wifey, then come see me. You a part of the pack now, Jah.”
“No disrespect, Don, but this wolf has already got a pack.” Jah looked over at Spooky. “True, I'll see you in a minute.” Jah headed out of the waiting area with Spooky backing out behind him.
IT WAS ALMOST ONE IN
the morning when Michelle finally arrived back at her apartment. She was supposed to be working the three-to-eleven shift at the hospital, but the sudden arrival of the rappers and their entourage made of mess of that. They were loud, rude, and stunk of weed, so it was inevitable that the police would give them a hard time, especially when you had people outside pissing on hospital property instead of using one of the bathrooms. In all her days of working at Harlem Hospital, she had never seen the emergency room in such a circuslike state. The only reason she had even stuck her neck out and interceded on their part was because they were friends of Lazy's.
the morning when Michelle finally arrived back at her apartment. She was supposed to be working the three-to-eleven shift at the hospital, but the sudden arrival of the rappers and their entourage made of mess of that. They were loud, rude, and stunk of weed, so it was inevitable that the police would give them a hard time, especially when you had people outside pissing on hospital property instead of using one of the bathrooms. In all her days of working at Harlem Hospital, she had never seen the emergency room in such a circuslike state. The only reason she had even stuck her neck out and interceded on their part was because they were friends of Lazy's.
When Michelle stepped into her apartment she immediately froze. There was the distinct smell of cigarette smoke in the air, but she didn't smoke. Taking her mace from her purse, she made slow steps into the apartment. Her hand shook violently as she made her way towards the living room. From the hall she could hear the television blaring and the sound of a lighter flicking. Michelle jumped from behind the wall, prepared to blind whoever had broken into her home and almost shitted herself when she saw Lazy sitting in the dark in front of the television.
“Boy, you scared the hell out of me. What're you doing in here sitting in the dark?” she asked, flicking the light on. There was an empty bottle of Hennessey on the floor by his feet, and a half-drained forty-ounce bottle of beer. Lazy wore a grim expression on his face and his eyes looked like he'd been crying. “Baby, what's wrong?”
“He's gone?” Lazy whispered. His voice sounded raw and she could tell from the slight slur that he was piss drunk.
“What? Who's gone?” she asked, starting to get nervous. “Lazy, what's wrong?” She moved to stand in front of him. Without warning Lazy buried his face in her chest and sobbed.
From what she could make out, Lazy and his friend Chiba had been involved in the incident that led to the girl getting shot. When they brought the dead body in, it had never even occurred to Michelle to ask the identity. She knew Chiba, and though they didn't like each other, she wouldn't have wished death on the young boy. Her heart went out to Lazy and it was all she could do to keep from breaking down right along with him.
“It's gonna be okay, baby,” she said, stroking the back of his head.
“My nigga gone, Michelle. They shot him right in front of me.” Lazy sobbed hysterically. Even in his drunken state his hands rubbed absently up and down her body, as he liked to do when they were together.
Michelle felt his pain, but she also saw his condition as an opening to have her way with him. “Don't worry about it, baby,” she kissed one tear streaked cheek then the other. “Your woman is here,” she began trailing her tongue along his collarbone, drawing a low moan from the young man.
“Baby, it hurts so much,” he half moaned, half cried.
“Hush, now. I'm gonna make all the pain go away.” She slid down and undid his pants. Lazy's waterlogged eyes rolled back in his head as Michelle began to gently suck him off. She licked his balls, then made her way up to his shaft and thoroughly lubricated it with her spit so it would slide right in. Lazy protested a bit when she tried to mount him with no condom, but once she got him inside her it was all good. Michelle rode him in a slow rhythm, grinding just a little deeper when he hit her spot. Lazy was so drunk that she thought he would never cum, but just as she started to see spots from her own multiple orgasms she felt Lazy's body go rigid, just before warm fluid filled her womb. Panting, she leaned in, still with him inside her, and held Lazy while he slept.
THERE WASN'T MUCH ROOM TO LOUNGE IN THE
Escalade, but for the most part they were comfortable. Shorty was at his usual post behind the wheel while Ice lounged in the passenger seat. Dena found herself wedged between Lisa and Cinnamon, with Roxy and Wendy against the doors. This left Mo, Sharon, and Sugar to occupy the rear row. They didn't look happy about it, but it was better than walking.
Escalade, but for the most part they were comfortable. Shorty was at his usual post behind the wheel while Ice lounged in the passenger seat. Dena found herself wedged between Lisa and Cinnamon, with Roxy and Wendy against the doors. This left Mo, Sharon, and Sugar to occupy the rear row. They didn't look happy about it, but it was better than walking.
Wendy twisted up a blunt of some shit that smelled like scorched honey. Dena didn't usually smoke with people that she wasn't familiar with, but the weed smelled too good to pass on. As soon as she hit the weed and felt it tickle, her lungs she knew it was that sticky. After about four or five tokes she was starting to feel real good.
“Who wants candy?” Lisa sang, pulling a sandwich bag full of off-white powder from her purse. Dena had never tried it, but she knew cocaine when she saw it, or so she thought.
“Whooo-wee, you holding that brown!” Shorty said, looking through the rearview mirror.
“If the white don't get you rightâ,” Lisa began.
“You can get down off the brown!” Cinnamon finished the cadence.
Lisa scooped a small amount of powder onto her pinky nail and inhaled. She was trying to hold back the sneeze that was building in her nose, but lost it, sprinkling the back of Ice's seat and neck. “Shit!”
“God damn, Lisa!” Ice yelled, wiping the back of his neck with his sleeve.
“I'm sorry, Daddy; you know this shit be up in a bitch's sinuses.”
“Lisa, you are such a fucking pig,” Cinnamon said, taking the Baggie from Lisa. She dipped her fingernail into the powder and started snorting it greedily.
“The both of you bitches ain't nothing but some hypes.” Wendy shook her head. “Where the hell is y'all manners; did you see if the ladies wanted a bump?” Wendy motioned towards the other passengers.
“I'm good,” Roxy said, smoking the blunt down to a clip.
“What about you, pretty lady?” Lisa draped her arm around Dena.
Dena stared at the Baggie that Cinnamon was now trying to hand to her. She felt like all eyes were on her, waiting to see what she was going to do. She glanced up to see Ice silently watching her in the rearview mirror. She wanted to impress him, but not enough to tamper with the foreign drug. “I'll pass,” she said, pushing the Baggie away from her.
“Some people ain't ready for grown folks business,” Lisa said, snatching the Baggie and dipping back into it.
Dena felt slighted, but didn't let it show on her face. She ignored Lisa and took the blunt when it came back around, but then she glanced up and saw the look of disappointment on Ice's face.
Somewhere along the line, the plans got changed, and instead of going to the 40/40 Club they ended up at a spot called Shooter's. Dena was a little bit leery about going to a strip club at first, but it actually wasn't that bad. It was tastefully decorated with modern furniture, and it had a beautiful glass horseshoe bar. Dena could tell that Black Ice was somebody important. From the bouncers to the bar staff, everyone showed him love. He took it all in stride, but kept glancing at Dena to see if she was impressed. Of course she was, but she would never tell him that.
Cinnamon and Lisa were clearly on another planet. Their eyelids were heavy, and occasionally Dena would catch them scratching like they had hives. Dena had heard that coke made people hyper, but they seemed to be the opposite. Cinnamon's legs almost gave out on her twice, and she even threw up just before they walked inside the club. Wendy rubbed her back while Lisa looked on laughing. Black Ice yanked Cinnamon upright by her arm and whispered something in her ear that seemed to sober her up a bit.
After procuring a table big enough to accommodate them all, Ice ordered four bottles of champagne and a liter of Hennessey. Before the waitress had sat the bottles down good, Sharon and Roxy were at it. It was obvious that the girls weren't used to quality drinking from the way they greedily gulped down the bubbly. Wendy was looking at them like trash, but Ice acted like he didn't notice.
Dena sipped her glass and watched Black Ice over the rim of it. At the video shoot he was cool, but he seemed out of place among the thugged-out rappers. Within the walls of Shooter's he seemed more at ease. This made Dena more curious about his character. At some point the girls she had come to know as Cinnamon and Lisa disappeared, leaving Ice, Shorty, Wendy, Dena's crew, and the two girls they brought with them from the video shoot. The champagne had loosened everyone up so much that you'd never know that most of them had only met hours prior.
“This spot is tight,” Roxy said, looking around. From the way she was dressed, you couldn't tell if she was a patron or an employee.
“You've never been here?” Black Ice asked.
“Nope.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Sharon mumbled. Roxy flashed her a look, but didn't want to cut up in front of Ice.
Dena was sitting there taking in the scenery when she felt a presence looming over her. She turned around and looked up at the security guard from the video. He had traded in his T-shirt for a black thermal and a pair of blue denim jeans, cuffed over construction Timberlands. A nice but not gaudy cross hung from around his beefy neck.
“Hey.” Dena smiled up at him. “Raheem, right?”
“Correct, Ms. Dena, how you doing?” He smiled back at her. His eyes briefly took in her company and came back to her. “I didn't know you did this spot.”
“I don't, I just rolled in with some people.” Dena motioned toward the table.
“Sup, Ice?” Raheem said to the man at the head of the table.
“You,” Black Ice said, raising his glass. Though his face remained totally neutral, his eyes watched every move Raheem made around Dena. Ice was protective of his flock.
“You in here choosing?” Raheem asked sarcastically.
Black Ice sat his drink down and looked directly at Raheem. “Duke, the only thing I choose is what color diamonds go best with my outfit. I get chose, cousin. Can you dig that?”
Raheem smiled, but there was nothing genuine about it. “Yeah, I can dig that. So.” He turned to Dena. “I didn't know you ran in the fast lane.”
“Baby boy, I'm in here with some people drinking, so don't get it twisted.” Dena snaked her neck.
“My fault.” He raised his hands. “Yo, if you get a minute come see me by the bar and I'll comp you for some drinks.”
“Oh, you got it like that, huh?” Dena asked.
“Yeah, I got a lil pull in the joint. This is me and my man's spot,” Raheem boasted. “When you're ready, come see how the other half lives.” He winked and walked away.
Ice didn't turn to watch as he passed, but he kept his eyes on him. “You sure you've never been here?” he asked Dena.
“Don't play ya self. I met son on the video shoot. He was security on Stacks's trailer,” she reminded him.
A dancer wearing a purple thong and matching top strutted over to their table. Though her face bore some sort of tribal scars, she had a body straight out of a triple-X flick. Without waiting to be invited she grabbed an empty chair and pulled up to the table.
“Mr. Ice, what's going on?” Scar asked in a husky voice. She had lost most traces of her West African accent, but it still came out when she was making an attempt at being sexy.
“Moving and shaking like I do, Scar,” Ice said pleasantly. The girl radiated sex appeal, but Black Ice was unmoved by her presence.
“Damn, Scar, you looking good as hell,” Shorty said. He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth, but it wasn't lit. “When you gonna let me tap that pussy again.”
Scar slipped her hand under the table and rubbed Shorty's crotch. “Shorty, you know you got too much dick for this old pussy. So, Ice.” She turned back to him. “I see you've added some new flavors to your catalog.” She let her eyes roll over the five new faces.
“Nah, baby, they don't know nothing bout this life here.” He swept his hands through the air.
“The young ones, maybe, but these twoâ” she pointed at Roxy and Sugar “âthey know something.”
“What, you trying to call us hos, or some shit?” Sugar asked defensively.
Scar gave her a throaty laugh. “Didn't mean to offend, ma. All I'm saying is that you two are very pretty. You know, a girl could make a lot of money in this place.”
“I can't see myself shaking my ass in front of a bunch of horny niggaz for dollars,” Roxy said.
“Beats doing it for free.” Scar gave her a wink. “Ice, I gotta go on soon, but I'll see you later.”
“Without a doubt.” Black Ice smiled. He watched Scar walk away, thinking how much money he could make with her on the team.
“She's a friendly one,” Dena said, snapping him out of his daze.
“Yeah, Scar is good peoples,” Black Ice said.
“I'll bet she's more than just good peoples,” Dena teased.
“I wouldn't know.”
“Yeah, right.”
“That's the gospel.” Black Ice raised his right hand. “Me and Scar are friends. Actually, its more of a business understanding.”
“Speaking of business, what exactly do you do?” Dena asked. She glanced over at Wendy, who was smiling sheepishly.
Black Ice tried to keep his face serious, but there was a smile trying to creep onto his lips. “I told you, I'm into adult entertainment.”
“Seems more like pimping to me,” Monique said, letting Ice know she was hip to his bullshit.
“Sweet lady, there's no such things as pimps. And if so, I sure as hell don't fall into the category. What I actually do is manage girls in the business. You know, booking gigs, making sure they get to and from the locations? Pretty much anything that's needed of me to make sure they're good.” It was a variation of the truth, but he didn't want to turn Dena off by giving it to her raw.
“How admirable of you,” Dena said sarcastically.
Black Ice just shrugged. “I do what I do to get by.”
“Looks like you're doing more than getting by.” Sharon lifted the expensive pendant on his chain.
“I do a'ight.” He gently removed her hand and slid a little closer to Dena. “So, tell me about yourself.”
“Not much to tell, really. I'm just a chick from Brooklyn who isn't content to stay in Brooklyn. By hook or crook, I'm gonna live the good life one day.”
“Ambition is a good thing.” Black Ice raised his glass of Hennessey.
“Sitting on my ass ain't gonna get me out.” Dena raised the glass of wine she had been sipping on.
Black Ice was about to follow her comment, but stopped when he caught sight of a familiar face across the room. “Dena, come over here with me right quick.” He stood up and extended his hand.
“Boy, you must be crazy, I ain't going to no VIP with you!” she said defensively.
Black Ice laughed. “Girl, when I try to bed you, it won't be in a dive like this. I want to introduce you to the owner.”
“A'ight.” She got to her feet. “But if you try some funny shit, it's on!” she said, before allowing him to lead her across the room.
As they crossed the crowded club, Dena tried her best not to come in contact with any of the exposed flesh, but it was damn near impossible, with wall-to-wall naked women running around. Dena lived in a house with two other women, so it was nothing new to her, but seeing your sister or mother change clothes was nothing compared to
the flesh parade at Shooter's. The girls seemed as comfortable with their nudity as she did fully dressed.
the flesh parade at Shooter's. The girls seemed as comfortable with their nudity as she did fully dressed.
When Dena looked to the stage she had finally solved the mystery of where Cinnamon and Lisa had disappeared to. The women were onstage gyrating and licking each other, while bills of all denominations rained at their bare feet. It was simply amazing to her how out of control men got around the scantily clad women. Dena wasn't gay or even bicurious for that matter, but there was something about the show the women were putting on that wouldn't allow her to look away.
Lisa, who was the taller of the two, stood wide-legged in the middle of the stage, wearing nothing but a pink thong and clear heels. Her large, silicone-filled breasts bounced stiffly every time she moved. Kneeling in front of her was Wendy. A thin film of sweat covered her body, giving her an autumn-colored tint under the club lights. Her large ass rested on the heels of her feet, occasionally popping one cheek after the other to get the crowd going. With her tongue lolling from her mouth like a winded dog, she beckoned for Lisa to come closer. Resting one leg on Cinnamon's shoulder, Lisa enjoyed the oral sex performed on her while the crowd cheered them on.
“You enjoying the show?” Black Ice whispered into Dena's ear, startling her.
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