Friday, May 4, 2012

We piled six deep into Smokey’s Chevy Impala and headed over to crab territory to pick up Reddy’s car. I was a little reluctant but I was the one responsible for having it stranded. Five minutes into the ride I glanced over at Kool Aid and he was sound asleep. Flintstone, Kool Aid and I were sitting in the backseat. Smokey was driving with Reddy and Slow sat in the front seat. When we pulled into the shopping center to my surprise the Cadillac was still parked in the spot we left it. Slow let Reddy climb out of the car on the passenger side and she checked to see if there was any damage.


“Everything is straight, Blood.” She announced before climbing inside.

Smokey made his way back to the closest gas station. He had a gas can in the trunk of his car. When we made it back to the shopping center Reddy handed the gas can to me.

“You the nigga that ran out of gas.” She smirked.

I grudgingly put the gas in the tank. Smokey left the car running while he watched us put the gas in the tank. I decided it would be more comfortable to hop in with Reddy when we left. I was hoping she didn’t talk any shit.

“Aw Cuz, what set ya’ll from?”

I glanced around to see two Crips walking towards us. I had on the same clothes from the night before so it was obvious that I was a Blood. Reddy wasn’t as obvious as me but she had on red shoelaces and a matching red belt. The two Crips were older than Reddy and me by at least four or five years. They were sporting their colors as well. One of them had a little size on him like he had done a bid in prison. He was the one that hit us up. The second Crip wasn’t that much smaller. He had some size on him in the muscle department as well. They both stood about six feet in height. I turned around for a confrontation forgetting that the homies were four deep in another car.

“East Side Holly Hood Leuders Park Piru Gang, Blood!” Reddy announced

“What the fuck did…”

Before the first Crip could finish his question I heard five or six gunshots let off. The stockier enemy was hit and fell to the ground hard. The second one quickly ran for cover ducking under another car. As I advanced toward the passenger side my eyes turned toward Smokey and he was the one waving the pistol.

“Let’s roll Blood!” He yelled.

Reddy started up the engine and sped off in the parking lot after I hopped in on the passenger side. Everything happened so fast that I didn’t have time to think. We were following Smokey in a direction I wasn’t too familiar with but he found his way to a freeway entrance. We were in a two car caravan all the way down to the 91 freeway until we exited Atlantic Avenue. I was on pins and needles wondering if someone noticed us. In broad daylight Smokey had shot that nigga. If he wasn’t dead he probably was seriously wounded. Reddy acted like she had taken a shot of adrenalin.

“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about Blood. We was in that crab nigga's hood and we still served his ass. That’s how we get down Double H for life.” She yelled.

I stared at her like she was crazy. I was tired and sleepy and the last thing I wanted was to get bumped up by the police and I hadn’t had any real sleep. My wounds were okay but they were still tender. A good six hour nap would do me some good.

“What’s wrong with you nigga? You act like you had love for that crab nigga.”

“I ain’t had any sleep and I’m still wearing the bandage from when I was stabbed. Last night was enough excitement for me.”

Reddy busted out in a loud laughter. There was nothing funny to me. She leaned back in her driver seat once we turned on Holly Street.

“I know where you coming from Grumpy. But that nigga hit us up first. It wasn’t like we started that shit. We was gon’ put gas in the tank then roll back to the hood.”

“Yeah that shit just caught me off guard. When he started blasting on that crab nigga I was like what the fuck now? I need to take my ass to sleep.”

“Alright, I’ll roll you to yo house on the circle.” She smiled.

It was pleasant to see Reddy smile. Sometimes I would be reminded how pretty Reddy was. She was a gangster so to get her to smile was difficult. She was different to me because she was one of the few gangster girls that I would love to fuck. It was girls that claimed the hood or other sets that were down to put in work, carried themselves butch. The feminine women were just fucking one of the homeboys but they wasn’t really down to put in work like Reddy. When she pulled up in front of my house I climbed out then leaned down in the window.

“Bee up Reddy.”

“Holly Love Blood. And don’t worry we gon’ serve them little niggas for running out on you.” She assured me.

I stumbled into the house and headed straight to my bedroom. I left a trail of clothes from my bedroom door to my twin sized bed.

It would be six hours before I woke up from my sleep. A sharp pain on my side let me know that the night before wasn’t a dream. After staggering into the kitchen for a glass of water my brother knocked on my door. My mother must have thought I made it home last night because she hadn’t said anything to me. I opened the door and Flintstone walked in.

“We whooped those little niggas’ asses for running out on you and Kool Aid. They were in violation for real.” Flintstone leaned on my dresser.

“They didn’t try to deny that shit?”

“You know they did. Loko tried to say that he was stabbed also but he didn’t make it to the hospital. He and Timmy-Ru and Boney-Ru rolled in a car Loko had stolen. They all claimed that they rolled back around looking for ya’ll but couldn’t find ya’ll. Smokey was like ‘Blood you shouldn’t have ran in the first place.’ Nuck was in the background cracking up the whole time.”

“Aw shit I bet you that made it worse. That nigga got an irritating laugh. What did Reddy do to them niggas?”

“She just watched me, Smokey, Slow, Kay-Kay and Ronnie-Ru knot them little niggas up. I told you that little nigga Kool Aid was down. I know when niggas got heart and when they are scary. Now Grumpy, now that you’ve seen the other side of this game you now know where you stand. Any nigga can claim to be a gangster but the streets will show what you really are at some point in time. A bitch nigga won’t stay true to what he says he is.”

“I know Blood.” I replied arrogantly.

He shoved me in a playful way. All I could do was laugh because I wasn’t in the mood for fighting. Even though I was asleep for six hours my body was still drowsy. Besides I appreciated Flintstone showing his love for me even though I wouldn’t admit it to him.

“Well I’m going back to the other room before I have to fuck you up.” He stood totally erect.

“Or get fucked up.” I quickly replied.

He turned around as he headed for my bedroom door and smirked. When he opened the bedroom door I stopped him.

“Why didn’t mama say anything about me not coming home last night?”

“I told her you were asleep and tired as hell so she wouldn’t bother you for the night.” He nodded.

“Good Looking on that.” I nodded.

He threw up the Blood sign with his right hand then closed the door behind him. Staring at the door for a few seconds made me crack a small smile. After that long ass day I knew where I stood with my brother. The glass of water was quickly swallowed right before my eyes closed and sleep had me again.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Excerpt from 'THE THINGS WOMEN SAY ABOUT MEN'






After hanging up the phone I dug into my closet to find something appropriate. I didn’t want to be trashy but I wanted to be sexy. I wanted to turn heads but not to the point where men became desperate and approached me. I had a girlfriend named Kenya that loved to dress in a provocative way. All she ever turned up with was horn dogs that never amounted to anything but a night of wild sex. I just wanted to catch the attention of someone I would never have any interest in but would give me the attention I craved. I opted for a pretty royal blue dress that allowed me to show a little cleavage. I always wore it with heels and it fitted smugly around my curvaceous body. It said I was classy but freaky if the right man could bring it out. That dress spoke volumes of truth about me but I never I could find the right man to bring that out of me. I thought maybe it was Caleb but I guess not. I found a pair of matching blue open-toe heels that had the cutest bow that highlighted the shoes. Now all I had to do was freshen up and find an appropriate push-up bra.
I pulled in front of Sheree’s two bedroom apartment in Los Angeles. The girl had a pretty good job but her credit had to be horrible. I always told her to buy property because it is always good to own something. She would always giggle and blow off my words so after awhile I just left it alone. Her apartment looked shabby from the outside as well as the neighborhood she lived in. I have to admit that her apartment on the inside was well designed. She had a strict policy about letting men into her home. She either went to their house or she settled for her regular guy. As far as she would tell me she had a fuck buddy named Chris. Chris wasn’t bad looking at all but he was still working an hourly job. He had a Bachelor’s degree from somewhere but still was on an hourly rate. His lack of ambition would have made me turn him away but he was sexing her right. I honked my horn twice hoping she would peak out the window and come downstairs. I knew if I went up to her apartment that would give her permission to take another forty-five minutes. In about ten minutes flat she was running out to the car with her heels in hand. Tacky. But Sheree was my girl thru thick and thin. She and I worked at a law firm together back when I was still in college and came home for the summer.
We sped off on our way to the Night Owl. It was a small bar in Los Angeles that had a nice amount of people coming out on weekdays. It also had a dance floor for those that wanted to get sweaty by grinding on each other. I never was too big on dancing but that might change tonight. It took about thirty minutes to make our way to downtown L.A.
“So what’s been up?” I turned down the stereo.
“Nothing girl, trying to stop fucking with Chris’s trifling ass. It’s gotten so bad that he doesn’t even spend the night anymore. I’m like; it has to be something better than this. He wanted to come over tonight but I’ve had enough of him…I don’t care how good the dick is.” She shook her head.
“Girl I never knew how you put up with his ass. Caleb had another bitch over his house and everything. She actually walked in on us.”
“Nuh unh?”
“Uh hun! I mean she was a cute girl but she didn’t have shit on me. Caleb went slumming just to spite me. If you gon’ cheat, let it be with a bitch that’s badder than me.”
“But he ain’t gon’ find a bitch badder than you.” Sheree replied.
“I know that’s right.”
We both started laughing as we entered a traffic jam on the I110 freeway. It gave us time to chit chat about two of our other friends. I found out from Sheree that Kenya had a one-night-stand with a guy she met at the club again. I in return told her that Brandy had just bought a new BMW also.
“That girl Brandy doesn’t play.” Sheree replied.
“Ever since I’ve known her she’s been on top of her game. That girl is so busy that I hardly get to spend any time with her. We have to promise ourselves that all four of us will get out and have some fun.”
“We got to do that soon Tomika.”
The freeway loosened up as we came closer to our exit. We made a few spins down a couple of one-way streets and found ourselves at the Night Owl. When we walked inside there was a bunch of men and a few women scattered here and there. I thought about leaving but Sheree was already headed to the bar. I reluctantly followed her as we sat down towards the end of the bar. There was a flat screen blaring behind the bar. It was playing highlights from the games that were played earlier today. It made me wander off in thought about Caleb. He was a sports agent that made a lucrative living. He owned his own condo and I was going to miss that about him. What I really would miss was how handsome he was to me. And when we made love it was like I had died and went to heaven. He knew how to hold me and touch me in the right places. He could set the mood for any type sex we decided to have. When I wanted him to screw me good and hard, he knew when and how. When we were in a romantic mood he knew how to be sensual and take his time. Honestly, I would be hard pressed to find a man that lived up to those expectations. I believe that we were destined to be together. He was only fighting the inevitable.
“Girl, what are you getting to drink?” Sheree interrupted my thoughts.
“Let me have a strawberry margarita.” I said to the bartender.
“There you go off wandering in thought, probably about Caleb. You caught that man cheating so you shouldn’t worry yourself about being with him. It’s his loss.” She shrugged.
It was also my loss as well. I wouldn’t dare tell her that because I had an image to uphold. She couldn’t know that I was going to miss him terribly. How would that look?
“I wasn’t thinking about Caleb.” I said dryly.
“Un huh!” She said sarcastically.
“I was thinking if I locked both doors at my house.”
“Tomika it is okay to cry and let out your pain when a man breaks your heart. It hurts when you find out a man is cheating so it has to really hurt when you catch him with the bitch.”
“I am not about to cry over that man.” I gave her a glance of disdain.
I sipped on my drink and it felt as though she was staring at me. I didn’t take the time to look back at her. We slowly sipped on our drinks listening to the music waiting for some action. We were twenty minutes into the Night Owl when a prospect approached. He ordered a beer at the bar then sat in the seat next to Sheree. He pointed towards the seat before he sat down to see if anyone was sitting there. I noticed Sheree shrug as though she didn’t care who sat there. I knew different. I looked over at him through the corner of my eyes and could tell she was out of his league. It was always interesting to see how a man approaches that knows that he doesn’t really have a chance. He was wearing a brown two-piece button down outfit made of fake silk. It was obvious he had bought it from a swap meet or one of those corner suit places. He stood about 5’11 with a dark brown complexion. What bothered me the most and I know was eating at Sheree was his ponytail. His hairline was receding but he was hanging on to his hair for dear life. His shoes weren’t real alligators and were probably Stacey Adams. He had a goatee and was actually handsome when you got past the image. He took a few sips of his beer from the bottle to build up his courage. Sheree pretended to be talking to me and watching the flat screen. It was clear sign that she wasn’t interested but he wouldn’t have felt like a man if he didn’t try.
“So how long have you been here tonight?” He randomly asked.
“I just got here.” Sheree curtly replied.
“So when does the party start cracking? There is no one on the dance floor.” He said enthusiastically.
“I don’t know.”
Sheree turned towards me at the end of rolling her eyes. Any man with sense would have caught the hint but he wasn’t giving up that easy.
“So you don’t come here too often do you?”
“What’s with all the questions man?” Sheree finally asked.
“I’m just trying to have a conversation with a good looking female. You don’t know how to be friendly?”
A slight thug came out of him with his last statement. Sheree must have caught it when I did because she rethought her approach. It’s always a hint that a man got street in him when he refers to you as a female instead of a woman. It’s subtle but nevertheless relevant. She smiled at him the next time she turned around.
“My friend is dealing with something right now and we thought that we would get out and have a drink. We just were hoping to stay to ourselves tonight, that’s all. Hi, my name is Tasha, what’s yours?”
“My name is Kevin but people call me K-Mack.”
Not K-Mack! I had to hold in my laughter because I was about to spit out the over iced margarita I was drinking. When I turned around to observe them Sheree had just finished shaking his hand.
“Well I’ll let you ladies stay to yourself and have a good night.”
“You do the same K-Mack.” Sheree replied.
I could sense the subtle sarcasm but I held my peace until she turned towards me. We both began laughing out loud. Fortunately for us he had already made his move on another ‘female’ in the bar. An hour into the Night Owl a crowd had developed. People were making their way onto the dance floor. Sheree started grooving in her seat but I knew better than that. I was enjoying the music but there was no way I would invite someone to ask me for a dance. It was a few onlookers but none were worth my time. I have to admit that some were cute but none were attractive. What I mean by that is they were not in my tax bracket or my level of sophistication. Now in my defense, I am not arrogant or pompous. I just know what I want in a man. Why waste a man’s time or allow him to waste mine?
But they messed around and went old school on us. They started playing ‘What’s the 411’ from Mary J. Blige featuring Grand Puba. That had Sheree and me dancing in our seats. Neither one of us had made it to our pre-teens when this song came out. But it was a song that I would hear my big cousin play when she was home from college. We both grew up in our grandmother’s house. Her name was Bianca and we were more like sisters than cousins. She moved to D.C. after graduating from Howard University. Eventually Bianca and her husband would move back to California in Orange County. She would play that tape on full blast whenever my grandmother was gone. Sheree and I started singing along to Mary J. Blige’s rap part.
“What makes ya think ya better than the next nigga, seen you last week and you couldn’t even speak.”
We snapped our fingers with both our hands raised in the air. The watered down alcohol was starting to get to us. It got us going until the song was over. Then we just turned around and tended to our drinks. That was when a handsome man approached the bar standing at least 6’3 in height. He was clean cut and well groomed. He had on an expensive black mock neck under a nice black blazer. He wore expensive jeans with a nice pair of alligator shoes that were pointed at the tip. My eyes scanned him from head to toe trying to be discreet as possible. My thought process had to admit that he didn’t look bad.
“Not bad, huh?” He said to me.
“Excuse me?” Even though I heard him.
“I put together a nice ensemble of clothing, wouldn’t you say?” He flashed a smile.
He looked me right in the eye with so much confidence. He must have caught my observation of him. I had to think on my feet.
“I wouldn’t have worn black on black if I was you.”
He actually made it work but that cocky smile needed to be wiped from his face. The smile never disappeared from his face.
“And you have a strand of hair out of place.”
He bit down on his lip with that same cocky smile. It was quite nice but I couldn’t let him know that it was nice. He couldn’t just win me over with charm and a nice outfit. He had to know that I was a challenge.
“Only in your dreams.” I turned toward my drink.
“You have no idea what is in my dreams.” His eyes wandered upward.
“And really don’t care.” I countered.
“So you just want to hurt my feelings.”
“How am I hurting your feelings? I don’t even know you.”
“I’m glad you asked. My name is Steven, Steven Brock.” His smile was gone but his confidence never wavered.
Okay he showed a little persistence and he was cute. I sighed softly then decided to surrender my real name.
“My name is Tomika.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you Tomika. What are you drinking?”
He didn’t wait for me to respond. He glanced down at my hand and seen the half filled glass of margarita then flagged down the bartender. He ordered Patron then turned around towards me.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I asked.
“I just met you Tomika. Let me get to know you a little better before you accuse me of such things.”
“I just had to make sure.”
“Well you won’t know for sure unless you let me do that?”
“Do what?”
“Let me get to know you?” He shrugged.
“You seem like a nice guy but…” I began my spiel.
“Don’t give me the nice guy line. All I’m asking is to get to know you. I don’t see any rings on your finger. And you know what’s the best part…you might actually like me getting to know you.” He flashed that cocky smile again.
I actually found myself giggling. The drink he ordered for me had arrived by that time. I was still sipping on the drink I had previously bought. Many men believe that if they buy you a drink then they’ve earned the right to pry into your business. You couldn’t impress me with a simple drink and a cute smile. At this point, his conversation was something I was trying to understand.
“So tell me Steven, what are you about?”
“What do you mean? You have to be a little more in detail with your question.” He replied.
“What, you didn’t understand the question?” I challenged him.
“Well yeah, I understood your question I just believe that it was somewhat vague.”
“It is a general question but I was hoping you spoke whatever came to mind.”
“Well there are a lot of things I’m into. I’m expecting you to be more specific like what are my career, educational background, hobbies or hopes and dreams.”
“Anyone of those you just said will suffice.” I smiled.
“So she does smile. Well I own my own business. As far as hobbies, I play the stock market from time to time.”
“So you aren’t an aspiring rapper or anything like that?” I said jokingly.
“I was never good with putting rhymes together. So Tomika, what are you into?”
“I’m into living life to the fullest. I’m into being ambitious and strong.” I replied.
“So are you one of the independent strong ‘I don’t need a man’ Black women type?”
“I’m independent and I don’t need a man. But I wouldn’t put it like that. I love men and especially Black men.”
“That’s good to know. Do you come here often?”
“Come on Steven, you can’t come up with a better line than that?”
Steven began laughing and it left me dumbfounded. As far as I could tell the ice was already broken but he was coming with a lame line after all of that. I thought I was talking to a witty man.
“No, I’m actually asking you do you come here often. I wasn’t trying to make small talk. I’ve been here once before and that’s about it. I was just curious Ms. Tomika.”
We both laughed. Our talk was much more casual while Sheree went out on the dance floor without me. She came back sweating which I thought was very un-lady like. You should never let a man see you sweat; unless of course, he is giving you a wonderful orgasm. I stood up when she came back to the bar. That was my way of letting her know that I was ready to go. She grabbed her purse while Steven glanced at me. He didn’t look desperate but it was clear to me he wanted to keep in touch.
“So do you want to continue this conversation later?” He asked.
“That’ll be nice.”
Sheree watched us exchange numbers in disbelief. I very seldom went out to a club and gave out my phone number. Even if I did, it didn’t mean I would accept his calls after that. We would just have to wait and see.
That night at the club was something that helped me get through the night. The following three days I dwelled on my break-up with Caleb. I knew he was thinking about me so I called him while blocking my number. The third or fourth time I called he picked up the phone. For a few second neither one of us said a word. He finally spoke through the phone. It was good to hear his voice besides that recording he left on his voice mail.
“Hello? Come on Tomika, I know this is you blocking your number. You need to stop calling my phone and playing on it. If you don’t have anything to say, then stop fucking calling.” He snapped.
I hung up the phone after that ordeal. He never talked to me like that before and he was kind of crazy since he didn’t know if it was me or not. I thought Caleb was becoming desperate or dismantled. It probably had something to do with the woman he was cheating on me with. It must be driving him crazy that he has to settle for her over me. I almost put the phone in my Coach bag when it began ringing. I thought about answering the phone figuring it was Caleb. When I looked at the caller ID it was a number that was unfamiliar to me. I thought about not answering the phone because Caleb could be trying to call from a different number. After the third ring I decided to answer.
“Hello?”
“Yeah, can I speak to Tomika?”
“Can I ask whose calling?”
“Could you tell her Steve is calling?”
Steve…Steve…where do I know that name from? I racked my thoughts trying to remember who he was. The phone was silent for at least a minute while I tried to put together where this man came from. Was he a bill collector? Was he someone I worked with or was he someone that I was trying to sell a house? No, because they wouldn’t call me on my personal phone. Oh yeah, that cocky guy from the club a few nights ago.
“Hello Steve, this is Tomika.”
“Did she have to find you?”
“Who?”
“The person that answered the phone.”
“No, honestly I was trying to figure out who you were.”
“I’m that forgettable. Or is that you have so many men chasing you that I was nothing to you the other night at the Night Owl.”
“Okay, whatever. I have been really busy so I had forgotten the club the other night.”
“Well maybe you wouldn’t forget about another night out with drinks and a good time.” Steve slyly replied.
“Well Steven, are you asking me out on a date?”
“I believe so. We can get some drinks and have a good time.”
“I thought you were trying to get to know me?” I strongly asked.
“I am trying to get to know you.” He could sense the tension.
“Well then you don’t get to know a woman by taking her to a bar. There is nothing but cheap alcohol and loud music at bars. I was hoping something a little more special for a first date.” I sighed.
“Okay, I’m cool with that. We can grab a bite to eat at a restaurant and talk.” He surrendered.
“When do you want to do this?”
“How about tonight Ms. Tomika? Did you have prior plans?”
“How about we meet somewhere at around eight tonight?”
“I can come to pick you up unless you are afraid of me knowing where you live.”
I could tell he was smiling through the phone. The phone was once again quiet as I considered if he should know where I live. I didn’t want to leave a bad impression of me not trusting him already. Truthfully he hadn’t earned my trust yet. The phone was quiet for a little longer than before.
“Hello, are you there?”
“Okay I’ll text you my address. Can you make it by 8pm?”
“I’ll see you at eight, Ms. Tomika.”
It took me a little over an hour to find exactly what I planned to wear. I had picked out a blue dress with a large white belt and blue heels. I had a small Gucci white purse to match with my belt. Of course my hair was immaculate. I wanted to see if he was going to show up on time or was he going to be late. That would let me know how eager he was to take me out. If he showed up fifteen minutes after eight then I would politely cancel. I believe women should be the only ones to be fashionably late.
He called me about five minutes to eight. I didn’t pick up my cell phone the first time he called to see if he would call back. I peaked outside and I seen him sitting in what appeared to be a Hummer. I wondered if he was one of those dumb asses that lived out of his nice car while renting an apartment. I pondered on it for a moment then the phone rang again. I picked it up on the second ring this time.
“Hello?”
“Hey Tomika, I’m out in front of your complex. These are nice townhomes by the way.”
“Thank you. I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”
I slipped on my high heels then swallowed the last remnants of the wine I had in a glass. Then I went to the bedroom to look at the long mirror. One more once-over will make sure I was ready to make a grand entrance to my date. After checking for everything I made my way down the elevator and out to his car. He was fortunate enough to find a parking space in front of my complex. When he turned to see me come out of the building his mouth was agape. He had lost his sense of thought for a moment. That’s the way you give it to him Tomika. He quickly and clumsily climbed out his car to open the door for me. He helped me inside of his tall Hummer then made his way back to the driver’s seat. We drove off shortly thereafter.
We went to one of the fancy restaurants on La Cienega called ‘The Stinking Rose’. That was when I knew he was really trying to impress me. I didn’t expect for him to take me to Sizzlers or something cheap like that. But I thought he would maybe take me somewhere that was about forty or fifty dollars a plate. This was more expensive and fancier than I expected. Of course I ordered what I wanted on the menu. He seemed to not wince when I put in my order. As we waited for our food to arrive we made small talk. More of his witty conversation helped pass the time in a usually awkward first date. I found myself laughing at some of his remarks. He kept it in good taste with a dirty joke he would whisper from time to time.
While he was paying for the bill I naturally stepped off to the ladies’ room. When I made it back to the table he was ready to go. I smiled because it was a good time to leave. We were inside the restaurant a little bit over an hour. He did the gentleman thing all the way to the car and when we climbed inside. I appreciated how courteous he was because it seemed as though chivalry was dead nowadays. We cruised around for a little while without any real destination. It was obvious because we had passed the same place for the second time. I can understand a man wanting to spend more time with me. After awhile though it became tiresome sitting in his car in those hard seats going nowhere. He finally made a suggestion that we go up to the beach and talk. I thought it was too chili to go to the beach. I know that it is supposed to be a place of romance but I’ll pass.
Finally he decided to pull up in front of my complex. We sat there nervously listening to Babyface on the radio. He was playing it low while trying to spark a new conversation.
“So how many bedrooms do you have in your townhouse?”
“It is a three bedroom. I use one of the rooms for an office.” I replied.
“So how big are the master bedrooms? I thought about moving over here before. I would love to see how you decorated your place.”
He had to be crazy if he thought he was coming up to my townhome. Especially if he thought it was that easy to get upstairs after a first date. He probably thinks that I owe it to him for that expensive meal.
“Is my phone ringing? I hope I didn’t miss any important calls.” I pulled out my cell phone.
He glanced at me and I could feel his eyes burning a hole in me. I was ready to go upstairs at this point. So I deliberately called Caleb on my speed dial. He picked up the phone on the third ring. I could actually hear him saying my name through the phone. I lifted the phone and handed it to Steve.
“Who is this?” He asked.
Caleb must have told him who he was because he repeated his name. I grabbed the phone from Steve and hung up. Moments later the phone kept ringing but I refused to answer it.
“This is my ex-boyfriend. He’s always calling but I try to ignore his calls.” I explained.
“Well I’ll let you go and maybe we can talk later.”
“That’ll be fine.” I quickly opened the door.
I didn’t give him time to open the door for me. I was out the truck and on the sidewalk in a matter of seconds. His window was rolled up so I just waved at him and quickly walked inside my complex.

Sunday, July 17, 2011


The long nosed chrome thirty-eight was pointed at his head. It was nothing standing between him and the barrel of the gun. He stood tall without flinching. If today was the day for him to meet his maker he would take it like a man. She smiled at him with a confidence that racked his nerves. He knew in his heart she knew how to use the weapon she was brandishing.
“How much do you owe nigga?” She barked.
“I owe seventy-five hundred.” He quickly replied
“And when did you tell that nigga you were gon’ pay him his money?”
“Three days ago…but I had a little problem with getting off what I was supposed to get off.”
“All you giving me are excuses. Excuses only benefit the muthafucka that’s giving them, nobody else.”

The barrel of her gun still was pointing at his forehead right between his eyes. She was a pretty ass redbone with thick luscious lips. If she wasn’t who she was he would have tried to run up in her a long time ago. She was beautiful and deadly at the same time though.
“Look Reddy, I can’t think with a pistol in my face. I know we can work something out.”
“Who said you were supposed to think? Fila been worried about his money and that’s some shit he shouldn’t have to worry about. We might be passed working something out. How much do you got on you right now?”
“I got forty-five hundred. I’m only three thousand short. Give me a few days and I can come up with the rest.” His voice strained.
She thought about his request and considered how she should handle it. She glanced around the room to notice the off white walls covered with WAK paintings. There was a pile of dirty clothes in a trash bag near the hallway to the bedroom. He didn’t even have a sofa. A television sat alone in the middle of the floor with a DVD player under it. She could tell he was scraping by to live. He wasn’t a sound hustler, she considered. That bothered her about him. If he was lazy about his own money then he wouldn’t have a problem being lazy with someone else’s money.
“Look here Bobby; I don’t know if you are really good on yo word. I mean, you’ve been hustling for him for three weeks and you still ain’t got off that yay.” Reddy shrugged.
“I had to get everything up and running first but once I got into the swing of things it will be easier to move this shit.”
A glimmer of hope flashed across his face. He quickly attempted to hide it because he knew what she was capable of. He also had to show some strength because she didn’t care for weak ass men. Her reputation had preceded her.
“Okay, give me the forty-five hundred and we can go from there.”
He walked a couple of feet away from her to reach for a pair of pants. She kept the pistol on him while her eyes remained focused.
“Easy, my nigga, easy.” She warned.
He carefully made his way inside of his pocket to pull out a wad of money. Reddy smiled slightly when she seen the cash. She was hoping for his sake that it was the amount he had claimed it to be. Glancing downward at the nappy tan carpet her black high heel boots were planted on. Her pistol slid down slightly enough where he felt a little more comfortable.
“Count the money in front of me.” She calmly demanded.
It was mostly large bills from what she could see but she still couldn’t calculate the amount. He took his time counting the money until he had gotten to the end.
“That’s only thirty-nine hundred, my nigga. You are six hundred dollars short.” She shook her head.
“Well this is what I have, can’t we work this out.”
“See Bobby, you are a bitch ass nigga, as far as I’m concerned. You told me forty-five hundred with you knew you were supposed to have seventy-five. But you couldn’t even produce the amount you told me you had. How the fuck am I supposed to trust you?”
“Na Reddy it ain’t like…”
She fired one into his knee cap. He screamed as he fell to the floor. He slid backwards towards his wall wincing in pain.
“Fuck you Reddy.” He grimaced.
“See nigga, you ain’t real about this here game. There are consequences when a nigga can’t stay true to what he’s supposed to be. I was giving you a pass for the forty-five hundred but you couldn’t even make that.”
She walked up closer to him with her pistol lowered to her side. The white in his eyes were turning yellow as water fell down his face.
“Give a nigga an inch and he tries to take a mile.”
Reddy lifted her piece, looked him in the eyes then let off four shots. Each bullet pierced his skull. Reddy cleaned off the pistol then sat it down next to him. After pulling out a back-up pistol she pulled the Victoria Secret’s Pink Hoodie over her head and walked out the front door.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Killers Don't Talk Excerpt


EXCERPT FROM 'KILLERS DON'T TALK'Fat Rat came outside to roll to the grocery store to put a few things on the barbecue grill. He had one of those propane grills so he was able to cook barbecue style food whenever he liked. It had been a few days since Tango rolled by his house without stopping. He wondered what that was that all about, but never heard from the man after that day. He climbed in his Monte Carlo sporting his blue golf hat, white T-shirt and blue khakis. He had just bought the latest blue Nike tennis shoes. He was an obese gangster but he always knew how to sport his clothes in a way that still made him look fresh. He pulled his keys out his pocket then looked down the street. He reminisced about his boy Cisco and lowered his head.
“That was one of the realest muthafuckas I knew, cuz.” He lamented.
He fired up the engine and sped down his block hitting corners like a gangster would. He turned a couple of blocks to find himself quickly pulling up to the parking lot of the local grocery store. He planned on being in and out. He jumped out of his car and quickly walked inside. Making his way to the meat section he began to savor the taste in his mouth. A couple of steaks on the grill and he would be straight. After grabbing a few accessories he went to the longest line in the store. He didn’t necessarily want to wait that long but the cashier in that line was really good looking. He would flirt with her from time to time and she seemed interested.
“She just doesn’t know, us fat niggas can work it.” He laughed.
She gave him the look as he drew closer in the line to the front. He smiled at her and she smiled back. It was only three customers ahead of him. When he finally reached the front he gave her another smile.
“What’s up baby, you gon’ quit playing with me and slide me that number. You ain’t fucked with a real nigga.” He smiled.
“Let me get a pen and paper and I will write my number down.”
“Cool.” He calmly replied.
He didn’t want to seem too eager so he kept it cool without saying anything else. Inside he was excited as hell but he couldn’t let her see that. She handed him the piece of paper and gave him another one of her pretty smiles.
“Alright then Ashley, I’ll call yo fine ass later.”
He walked out of the store as cool as he wanted to be. After all this time he finally got her number. He took the paper from out of his pocket and glanced down at it. Even her handwriting was pretty. The bag of groceries wasn’t that heavy but he still walked slowly to the car. He glanced up for a moment and seen fire flash right in front of his eyes. He heard the first gunshot but couldn’t hear anything else after that. Several bullets riddled his body before he fell on his back hitting the pavement hard. There was no time to scream or catch his breath. In a matter of moments footsteps ran off in the night and the gangster known as Fat Rat lay dead in a grocery store parking lot. The dead corpse had a bag of groceries in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.



Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Silas glanced over at B-Mack who was observing the exchange. They were all brothers through hood affiliation. Just like Smokey and B-Mack were road dogs, so were Maniak and Silas. They all had a bond but for the last couple of years it always seemed like it was only three instead of four.
“It seems like somebody is always missing from the pack of four. Take care of this nigga B-Mack because he’s good people.”
B-Mack nodded acknowledging his homeboy as a soldier. He stood tall in a day of snitches. He got caught up on a pistol that wasn’t his and he stood up on the charge. He was a gangster that believed in his code.
“I got Smokey out here to have my back. I’ll put him on my money so he can take care of his daughter. Do you bee what I’m saying?” B-Mack began.
“Na Blood, I’ll give you enough where ya’ll make a living for the both of ya’ll. You gon’ have to move to another spot so that you could get more business. So the smokers can know where ya’ll at.” Silas replied.
“Okay bool, speaking of smokers, that nigga Earl came around here looking for you. He didn’t hit the block but I ran into Big Dave and he was telling that nigga asked about you again.”
“That nigga drop a number on Big Dave to give to me?”
“If he did, it wasn’t given to me.” B-Mack shrugged.
B-Mack handed him a wad of money and he quickly slid it in his pocket. He handed B-Mack another package. B-Mack handed the package to Smokey and he went to find a stash to hide the dope. Before turning around to leave he embraced both his homeboys then made his way in another direction. While walking down the block he noticed the time on his brand new Rolex and picked up the pace. He had only twenty minutes to make it over to the meeting spot where he and Porky always met. Trying to scuff up his white Chuck Taylor’s with the thick red shoelaces, he was only a few steps from jogging. When he walked over to the parking lot he realized that his big homie hadn’t made it yet. He took a moment to glance at his watch again to notice he was a few minutes early. When he looked from his watch Porky was pulling into the parking lot. A smile flashed across his face as he thought about his new purchase. He didn’t count it but if the money was right that B-Mack gave him he was about to get a whip. Porky was selling him a 1988 Cutlass Supreme. It was a rust color brown sitting on twenty inch rims. He was only selling it to him for nine thousand dollars after talking him down. It had a new engine and he had put new upholstery in the interior. Silas was feeling good because now he could floss and get to the places he needed to go. Porky even told him about a stash box where he could hide the pistol. When he climbed in he felt like a child on Christmas morning.
“I’m ready for that new whip, Blood.” He said enthusiastically.
“Okay we can roll over to where I got it parked. You got that nine even…right?”
“Come on Blood, you know I got that. I wouldn’t be wasting yo time if I didn’t have it.”
“Alright, before we roll, I want to ask you something again? Did you do that lick at the liquor store?”
“Blood why do you keep asking me that? How would I keep come at you about the money we talking about based on a four hundred dollar lick?”
“It might be more my nigga. The reason I’m asking you is because that muthafucka Earl came around looking for you. This is the second time I’ve seen that nigga and he asked about you, Blood. You know that nigga be smoking dope…right?”
“Yeah, I heard he was on that shit but he don’t have anything to do with me.” Silas glanced away.
“That nigga coming at you about something. A nigga that’s smoking dope ain’t reliable Sy, and that’s on Damu.”
“I’m telling you Porky, I don’t know what the fuck that nigga wants with me.”
“You gon’ have to kill that nigga, Blood.”
“Why am I gon’ have to kill him?” Silas glared surprisingly at him.
“Because if that nigga wants his cut and you don’t give it to him, he’s gon snitch. That nigga lost his job behind that shit Sy. He ain’t got any money to cop his habit, my nigga. And you best believe if that nigga is getting at me tough about yo whereabouts I ain’t the only one. And you don’t know who is snitching from the hood. If I can put two and two together, don’t think I’m the only one.”
“What two and two together Blood?” Silas frowned.
“Okay my nigga, but I warned you.”