Trap House (8 page)

It was at that moment she decided she was through with Marcus. Mentally, she quit him on the
spot. After she got her half of the money, it would be over. Her thoughts were shattered by the
blaring of the car horn.

“Bitch, come da fuck on!” Marcus screamed wildly.

Pony, who was riding shotgun, laughed hysterically. “Pimp! Get that nigga, pimp!” he yelled
in support.

Tiffany ducked her head in embarrassment and rushed to the car.

Pony leaned forward to allow her to ride in the back of her own car.

She felt some kind of way about it, but she decided to comply. She wasn’t in the mood to
get cursed out again. She was just thankful none of her co-workers was around to see her get
humiliated.

“You got my money?” Marcus demanded before both cheeks even touched the seat.

“
Your
money?” she replied in confusion. “You said we was gonna split it.”

“Bitch, I put this shit together. Me! You get what the fuck I give you,” Marcus spat angrily.

“Yeah, pimping.” Pony chuckled in support.

Too afraid not to, Tiffany reached into her bra and retrieved the money. “Where we going?”
Tiffany asked as Marcus bypassed 20 West, which would have been the quickest route to P.I.G.’s
house.

Marcus sucked his teeth as a reply, which caused another round of laughter from his assistant
pimp.

Pony shot a sideways glance at Marcus before reaching back to rub Tiffany’s thigh. “We got a
new connect we finna try,” he said, reaching for her crotch.

Tiffany let him cop a feel to spite Marcus, but she squeezed her legs together to prevent him
from going too far.
Like I really want another damn junkie,
she thought to herself as she pushed his
hand away.

Marcus zipped up Candler Road recklessly. He swung a hard left at Krystals, then a quick right
onto Hooper Street.

Tiffany knew this was where the bootlegger’s house was, and she assumed Marcus intended to
buy them some beer. Since they were underage, it was one of the few places where they could buy
alcohol. She was always amazed at how an illegal establishment could operate at full blast the way
the bootleggers did. One would think they would make some effort at discretion, since they were
breaking the law and all.

Marcus pulled to a hard stop a few houses before the bootleggers and jumped out. Pony was
close behind like a junkie Tonto. They entered through a side door, returning the same way minutes
later. On the way back to the car, Pony stopped and bought a sack of weed from a dude they all
went to school with.

“Are we going to P.I.G.’s now?” Tiffany asked, disturbed by the pleading she heard in her own
voice.

Marcus, who was obviously above speaking with her, only sucked his teeth. It was one of the
many habits Tiffany looked forward to not having to deal with after this night was done.

“We got straight here,” Pony replied, growing tired of the attitude himself.

Marcus made a couple of turns and emerged onto Glenwood. After crossing over Candler, he
turned into the parking lot of a shabby motel a few blocks later. “Come on,” Marcus demanded as
he exited the vehicle.

Pony and Tiffany got out and followed him to a room on the second floor. He produced a key
and led the way inside. Tiffany almost gagged from the strong odor emanating from within. It
smelled like ass and cigarettes, topped off with stale beer.

Once inside, the men huddled at the small table as Tiffany sat gingerly on the bed. “Shit look
straight,” Marcus announced as he produced a large bag of crack.

“Fuck what it look like. What it hit like?” Pony exclaimed greedily, with pipe in hand.

“Did y’all get some soft for me?” Tiffany pleaded as the men loaded their shooters.

“All they had was hard,” Marcus said without bothering to look back at her.

“Here. Roll you a blunt,” Pony said, handing her the weed and a wrap.

“I wanted me a bump too,” Tiffany whined desperately.

“Here. Roll yaself a primo,” Marcus said, handing a few crumbs her direction.

Tiffany hesitated only for a second before accepting the drugs. She repeated the process she’d
seen Wanda perform many times.

Marcus and Pony were engaged in the Crack Olympics, trying to out-smoke each other, so it
took a minute for Tiffany to get a light. When she was able to get a lighter from Pony, he quickly
snatched it back, trying to catch up with Marcus, who had taken a slight lead in the race to get
high.

The blunt sizzled loudly as Tiffany inhaled. The effect was instant and intense. She literally
felt her life change at that moment, and she knew her days of snorting cocaine were over. “Pass
me a beer,” she said giddily between pulls. The blunt was still well above the halfway mark when
Tiffany discreetly put it out and hid it in her purse.

“Let’s go on and split the rest so I can hit this pussy,” Marcus suddenly announced.

Tiffany was disgusted by the crassness of the remark, but she was horny enough to let it pass.
She was actually amazed how horny she was.
One last time
, she reasoned.
One for the road
.

“You want me to stay and help?” Pony asked as he gathered his supplies.

Marcus shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care one way or the other.

“Hell, naw, he can’t stay,” Tiffany said forcefully, looking at the stranger she once loved.

“A’ight, I’m gone. Don’t beat it up too bad.” Pony laughed on his way out the door.

“Get dem drawers off,” Marcus demanded, peeling off his dirty uniform.

Tiffany was surprised he was still insisting on being an asshole with his company gone. He
usually only showed his ass when people were around. This was a first…and a last. If she hadn’t
been so horny, she would have told him right then and there to go fuck himself and then gone home
and done the same. But Tiffany removed her clothes as directed and lay back on the bed.

Marcus took one last sizzling blast before climbing on top of her. He blew the smoke in her
face, causing her to wince from the tartness of his breath. Still, she inhaled. Marcus grinded himself
between her legs as he sucked on her breast.

Far too horny for foreplay, Tiffany reached down to put him inside of her. “Eww!” she screamed
at the feel of his limp penis. “Not again!” she cried in disgust, sending Marcus into a rage.

“Fuck you mean, ‘not again’?” he growled.

“Nothing, baby,” Tiffany said, trying to soothe him by kissing his neck. But that only made
matters worse, as the sweaty taste caused her to wretch.

“Sorry-ass bitch can’t even get a nigga dick hard,” he berated. He climbed up her body and
pushed his penis in her face. “Open your mouth,” he demanded, trying to force his way inside.

“Mmm…mmm,” Tiffany mumbled, shaking her head furiously. The smell of his crotch
overwhelmed her, causing her to gag.

Marcus took advantage of that and pushed himself inside of her mouth. Tiffany was in shock as
he began humping her face. As soon as he got an erection, he rushed down to put it inside of her,
but it was limp again by the time he got there. “Sorry-ass bitch!” Marcus said, climbing off of her.
“’Bout to take me a shit,” he announced, grabbing his pipe and a rock.

Tiffany had been in shock, but she sprang into action as soon as he left the room. She quickly
dressed and grabbed her keys. She spied the pile of crack on the table and debated as to whether
or not to take some. The debate lasted two seconds, and then the question became,
How much
?
Her hand answered that question by sweeping it all into her purse. “Fuck you, too, bastard,” she
whispered, easing out the door.

“Say, bitch?” Marcus yelled, thinking he’d heard the door. When he didn’t get a reply, he
pinched off the turd he was working on and ran out into the room. His eyes first shot to where his
drugs were and then darted around the rest of the room. Marcus snatched the door open just as
Tiffany opened her car door. “My dope!” he yelled in horror as he took off in pursuit.

Tiffany laughed at the sight of the naked junkie as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Goodbye…
and good riddance,” she mused as she moved on to the next chapter of her life.

CHAPTER 8

M
arcus was in a foul mood as he sat behind the wheel of the stolen car he and Pony were
using for the day. It was just setting in that Tiffany was really gone. It had been almost a
month since she had run out on him at the hotel and—as he put it—stolen his drugs. She’d refused
his repeated calls for a week before changing her number. He realized he had gone too far that last
time, disrespected her one too many times. “Damn!” Marcus yelled in disgust, pounding his fist
against the wheel.

Pony was initially startled by the outburst, but he knew what was eating his friend. “You gotta
let that shit go, shawty. She gone,” he offered, genuinely concerned.

Marcus wanted to lash out at him and tell him to stay the fuck out of his business, but he knew
Pony was right. He decided to take his wrath out on Alonzo instead. “Come on, ol’ duck-ass
nigga!” he yelled while laying on the car horn.

Alonzo, or “Big Zo” as he was referred to, was another junkie Marcus and Pony had recruited
to pull their little capers. They were so hot in all the stores that it was impossible to even shop
anywhere on the East Side of I-20. Being the masters of strategy that they were, they devised a new
plan. Knowing that all eyes would be on them as soon as they walked in, Alonzo would be free to
tear them a new one.

“We need to hit us a real lick,” Marcus suggested, fingering the small pistol in his lap.

“I already told you like nine times that I ain’t with that shit,” Pony replied emphatically.

Lately, Marcus had been stressing committing an armed robbery, something Pony wanted no
part of. Marcus was becoming more aggressive by the day. He’d been pulling his pistol on people
at the slightest provocation. He was dying to get his gun off, and it was only a matter of time before
he shot someone.

“You know that fat bastard ain’t gon’ let us cop nothing under a half,” Marcus fumed.

Lately, P.I.G. had refused him entry unless he spent $500 or better, figuring he had set the bar
high enough to keep the garbage out. Since Tiffany was coming by herself almost daily, Marcus
served him no purpose. It was only out of loyalty to his uncle that he wasn’t barred flat out.

“I know, shawty, but for one, P.I.G. got that glass. Ain’t shit out here touching it. Two, if we get
a half, we can get high and get our money back,” Pony reasoned.