Pitbulls In a Skirt 3 Page 3

  "So what’s this supposed to mean?" Carissa asked a little embarrassed, handing me back my phone.

  "It means whoever you fucking taped you, and that you need to slow your roll." I said.

  "Slow my roll?" She frowned.

  "Yes, bitch, slow your mothafucking roll!” I said leaning into her. “You were caught on tape letting a nigga gag you with his dick and you alright with that?"

  "Are we getting in each other business now?" She paused. "Because we all know Derrick is fucking Bucky again and he not even tripping off you no more."

  Silence.

  “Why would you say some shit like that?!” Yvette yelled.

  “She know I’m telling the truth. Bucky got the whole Emerald City screaming about how she took your man.” Then she laughed. “I can’t believe Derrick choosing Bucky, a bitch who banks at the liquor store over you…but I guess you’re lacking in the bedroom department or something.”

  "Carissa, don't go too far," Kenyetta said finally realizing how bad her right hand had gotten. “We still family.

  I hadn't known he was fucking Bucky but I did know he was cheating. Bucky been wanting his ass since the day she met him, and I should’ve murdered her when I had the chance. But all the deaths I’ve caused were starting to weigh on my conscious and I didn’t…at least I wasn’t trying to bust my gun again unless I had a real good reason.

  “So what’s this, Carissa? You go on a friend who looking out for you?” I asked. “I mean if you still mad that you gave the word to have Lavelle killed then let’s talk about it. But please don’t talk about my husband when you know how I feel about that kind of shit.”

  “I gave the word to have Lavelle killed because I don’t give a fuck about him anymore. He tried to do me wrong and I got back at him and if you think I’m still tripping off of that, you got me fucked up.”

  “Stop lying to yourself, Carissa!” I said. “You loved that nigga just like we loved our men. If anything we all lost when we caused their murders. I mean think about it, Yvette took care of Thick, Dyson was murdered on the streets and even I had to off Cam. The difference is we ain’t getting busted and running around town making fools of ourselves.”

  "Yeah, you wilding out now." Yvette added. “Big time.”

  “Don’t try to skip the subject,” Carissa said slyly. “Is Derrick stepping out on you or what?”

  Silence.

  "Okay…okay…if you must know, yes, my marriage is in trouble." I said in a low voice.

  "I'm sorry, Mercedes. I didn't know." Yvette lied.

  I know they knew, it was news around town. I just didn't expect it to be used as a slight against me simply because I cared enough to show my friend a slut video co-starring her mouth and ass.

  "It’s okay, Yvette.” I paused. “But at least he's not gagging me with his dick on camera either. He has enough respect for me not to do that at least. But what about you, Carissa? You acting like you're a teenager and your daughter Persia is taking notice." I saw I struck a nerve when her facial expression went from conniving to shock. "Oh yes, them same parties you be throwing, Persia be at each and every one of them and she be fucking all them drug dealers under her mother's watch, too. Including freaky ass Zulo. And you know why, because you're too drunk and busted to give a fuck!"

  Now she looked mad and Yvette said, "Now you deserved that shit."

  Hearing Yvette’s voice Carissa turned her head in her direction and said, "Oh do I?”

  “Yes. You came in here with some off the wall bullshit and deserved to get called out about it. So I don’t even know why you looking all dumb.”

  “Okay, you may be right and I’ma eat that. But what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “After all this time you still fucking a woman.” Then she laughed slyly. “I gotta tell you though, we took a bet and none of us in this limo thought that bullshit would last this long. I guess I gotta pay up though because Kenyetta thought differently.”

  Yvette looked at me and then Kenyetta.

  “I didn’t think you would stay with her, Yvette. But now I realize you really care about her and as long as you’re happy, I’m good.” I said trying to clean up my part of the personal conversations we had behind her back.

  “Yeah, we were worried at first because we know you ain’t got no kids. I mean, I know you don’t want none now but what if you do?” Kenyetta said. “We just wanted to be sure you knew what you were really getting in to. But we weren’t talking about you like you were a dog or nothing.”

  “Don’t try to clean it up, Kenyetta. Let’s give her a round of applause,” Carissa said clapping her hands. “Congratulations, Yvette, you are officially a bull dagger."

  I didn’t even see it happen at first. All I saw was a black blur move so fast that I had to look again to see what happened. Yvette had jumped up and smacked her so hard in the face it left an imprint. The next thing I know a rumble ensued and Kenyetta was pulling Carissa and I was doing my best to hold Yvette who already busted her five times in the face to Carissa's none.

  My driver pulled over on the side of a busy highway and everyone jumped out. Cars zipped by as we yelled and screamed at the top of our lungs.

  "You wrong as shit for putting your hands on me!" Carissa cried wiping tears from her face, her makeup streaking. Kenyetta held onto her as if she was a wild dog about to attack. "If you can lick a pussy you can take a joke!"

  "Fuck you, bitch! I wouldn't give a fuck if both of you bitches keeled over! I'm sick of both of ya'll shit!"

  Yvette went too far but that's how she was when she got real mad. Just like she cut her face when Thick tested her loyalty, she believed in going to the extreme to prove her point. And there was no need in me telling her otherwise either because if I did, she would have three people instead of two to apologize to in the morning. Although this fight was official, I knew we could get past it, at least I hoped.

  "You being so extra! Get back in the fucking car!" I said.

  "I'm not getting back in that car with that bitch!" Carissa said. "Kenyetta, call Slack and Cheese to come scoop us!"

  “We can take ya’ll home.” I said tiring of all this shit. It was entirely too cold to be standing outside. “This is not Broadway, Carissa. You can cut your fucking performance.”

  “Fuck you and fuck you!” Carissa said to me and Yvette.

  I threw my hands up in the air because I was done with her shit for tonight. I was just happy she had someone to call to pick her up and wanted my offer to take her home on record in case she tried to call me on it in the morning.

  Yvette got back in the car and I saw her mouth, 'I'm sorry', to Kenyetta.

  Kenyetta mouthed, ‘I'm sorry, too.'

  Yvette and I sat in the car while Kenyetta and Carissa stayed outside. I shook my head and said, "She family, Yvette, no matter what she says or does. Don't forget that."

  Cars whizzed by moving the fur on their coats and their hair. We didn't pull off until a black BMW pulled up and took them both away. It was our biggest fight yet, and one I hoped to forget.

  “But ain’t I worth it? Now you get to look at a pretty ass nigga for the next couple of hours.”

  - Lil C

  Lil C tugged at his black Gucci knit cap as he sat in the backseat of his Benz talking on the phone. His mother had Wallace drive him wherever he wanted to go in the DMV (D.C, Maryland Virginia). Wallace took a bullet for the city when Black Water's son Nathan shot him in the arm and Mercedes felt indebted to him so she trusted him with C’s life. Kit saved Mercedes by feeding her when niggas gang raped her, an event even now she hadn’t fully shared with her son, so she also blessed him with gainful employment. Little did C know that one incident had a lot to do with why she chose to take Cameron’s life. Kit, who was in the passenger seat of the Benz, was C’s bodyguard while Wallace was his driver. She didn’t want C being by himself and wanted him protected at all times, even when he didn’t want to be.

  “I told you I’m ‘bout to
scoop Monie. Why you keep asking, nigga?” C checked the pockets of his leather coat looking for his Twix candy bar. It wasn’t there.

  “You act like it’s top secret or something.”

  C laughed and said, “Me and Monie gonna grab something to eat and then I’ma go bang Cute Nikki’s back out after I leave the gym.”

  “I still can’t believe you bagged that bitch! How the fuck you do that?” Ryan said.

  “Nigga, I’m C, of Emerald City. Ain’t no nigga around here richer or better looking than me. You know this.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Ryan responded knowing what he was saying was true. “So I guess you not going to shoot hoops with me and Mazon. There’s this indoor basketball court in Virginia we wanted to check out.”

  “Can’t fuck with it, but I’ma get up with ya’ll later.” When the phone dropped out of his hand and landed on his new Lebron’s, he remembered he forgot to rub the fact that he had them before they came out, in his face. “I meant to tell you, I got them Lebron's.”

  “When you get ‘em?” Ryan said. “They don’t even drop ‘til next month.”

  “You know I got the hook up.” C laughed.

  It wasn’t even a competition when it came to C having the newest shit because he always stayed fresh. But being spoiled was etched in his makeup and he felt inspired to let a nigga know.

  “Well I’m ‘bout to fuck your head up right now.”

  “Picture you fucking up anything of mine.”

  Ryan laughed and said, “I’m looking at a box of Lebron's, size 13 right now, nigga.”

  “Get the fuck out of here.”

  “I’m all the way serious. I’m ‘bout to put ‘em on right now.” Ryan bragged.

  Those words hit C as hard as if someone had just talked about his mother. He was always known to get the new fashions before they dropped and the moment he saw someone wearing something he owned, he’d give his shit away.

  “ How the fuck you get ‘em?” C said trying to conceal his hate.

  “You know Mazon’s father owns them Shoe City stores. So they went to some convention a few days back. I gave him a couple of hundred and he got me a pair.”

  “I gotta go.” C said hanging up in his face.

  Looking down at his feet he was enraged. If a nigga like Ryan got a hook up before he did, what was the use?

  “Pull over, Wallace.” C said.

  “No problem.”

  When the Benz was on the side of the road, he took the new Lebron's off and threw them out of the window. Wallace and Kit looked at each other having seen the scene many times before. Spoiled wasn’t even the word when it came to C’s behavior at times.

  “Take me back to my house to get my D&G’s.”

  “I’m on it.” Wallace said busting a U-turn.

  It would be the last time C would ever wear a popular sneaker again. Either he wore a pair of shoes over three hundred dollars, or he wasn’t wearing shit. That went for his jeans, too. So he rushed into the house in bare polo socks and changed his shoes and clothes. His conversation with Ryan inspired him to get extra fly on the world for the day. He took off his Seven Jeans and threw on his Earnest Sewn jeans feeling nobody was up on them yet. He completed his look with his custom-made brown leather jacket. Then he grabbed a few stacks of money from up under his bed and snatched his gym bag.

  Fifteen minutes later he was out the door. When he finally made it to Tyland to pick up Monie, he called her house. “I’m downstairs.”

  “You not coming up?” She said already knowing the answer.

  “You know I don’t get out of my car for nobody.”

  She laughed and said, “I’m on my way.”

  When she walked toward the car C could feel all eyes on him. Tyland Towers residents hated C and the family he came from. They felt his family caused them more problems than they were worth, but there was nothing they could do about it. He was hood royalty and that’s all that mattered.

  When Monie got to the car C couldn’t help but notice that to be a big girl, her shape was on point. Her long hair hung down her back and brushed against her leather jacket, which was slightly open exposing her ample cleavage. If a dude was in to big women, she’d be considered a dime.

  “’Bout time you got here!” Monie said playfully hitting him on the arm. “You had me waiting an hour for you.”

  Damn she smells good. He thought.

  Wallace pulled off already knowing their destination, B Smith’s in Washington DC.

  “I may be late but ain’t I worth it?” He joked. “Now you get to look at a pretty ass nigga for the next couple of hours.”

  “Ugghhh, boy!” She took of his hat and threw it in his lap. “With your fake curly head ass! Tell the truth, that’s a Jerri Curl ain’t it?”

  “You want to see the hair on my dick?”

  She laughed hard and said, “You too fucking arrogant.”

  “Naw, just confident.” He put his hat back on. “Were you able to find anybody who knows Dreyfus? I met a few rich white boys in this band and they lost contact with their other connect. I could stand to make a lot of money if I could get them a connect.”

  “Naw…it’s hard to find him.” She paused. “Just ask your mother.”

  “I might have to.” C said.

  “Nice shoes!” She commented loving the black and silver accents in his D&G sneakers. “But I know you gonna get the Lebron’s.”

  “Fuck no! I’ll leave that shit for the block niggas. I stay up on the classic shit.”

  “Whatever,” she said, remembering all of the boxes of shoes he had at his house at the National Harbor and Emerald City. “Where’s Daps? She ain’t coming with us?”

  “Naw…I haven’t been able to reach her today.” He said stealing an unconscious look at her titties.

  “Ugghhh, C!” She said hitting him again. “I saw you looking at my titties.”

  “Please, you know I don’t fuck with big girls. Don’t get me wrong, you cute and all, but you gotta run the track a few times before I fuck with you.”

  Monie’s head hung low and it was obvious that his words hurt her feelings, but C didn’t care or bite his tongue. He was brought up to feel that he could say whatever he wanted and if people wanted to hang with him they had to take it.

  “Well I don’t wanna fuck with you either.”

  “Aww…sure you do.”

  “Uggh!” She said digging in her purse. “Here, boy.” She threw a Twix in his lap knowing it was his favorite candy.

  “Damn, I was just wanting one of these joints.” He said ripping the candy open. “Thanks, Monie.” He softly punched her chin. “You must be in my head or something.”

  “I’m in your heart.” She said out loud.

  He looked at the seriousness on her face and laughed, “You playing right?”

  Monie was quiet before she said “Yes, boy! What I look like being soft on you? Anyway your best friends have been talking about you.”

  “What you and Daps saying about me now?”

  “We was saying how you’ll never get a serious girlfriend with your attitude.”

  “And what attitude is that?”

  “You’re arrogant attitude. You gotta bring that down if you want someone to see how loving you are.”

  C laughed, “I don’t care about love, I care about pussy. Look at that bitch right there,” he said pointing out the window at a girl who walked across the street. Her ass was phat and round. “I could learn to love a bitch like that.”

  “Well she might not want you if you don’t change.”

  “If a bitch want me she better comply to my rules.” He laughed. “I’m a king, baby. And a king always gets who and what he wants.”

  “Whatever, you’re so spoiled you’re probably right.”

  “I am right. Ain’t no probably to it.”

  Monie leaned back in her seat and said, “You still trying to get Sri Lankan girls over here?”

  “You think I’m playing but I’m dead serious
.”

  “But why?”

  “Look how sexy the women are,” he said, pulling out the phone to show her some picture he’d saved. C had done extensive research on the women and their country. He even managed to find a site showcasing women who wanted to move to the USA. “And some of them are trained for war, too. It’s very violent over there and all citizens have to be ready, even the women.”

  “So what, you get them over here and then what? You turn them into your soldiers or something?”

  “Yep, all they need are Visas, and I’m working on that right now.”

  “Why?” Monie persisted.

  “Because I want women on my arm no nigga around here can get. That’s why.”

  C and Monie continued their conversation until Wallace yelled, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

  Out of nowhere a seven-year-old boy who was riding his bike rode directly into the path of their car. Wallace slammed on the brakes missing the kid by a few feet. The boy dropped his bike in front of the black Benz, folded his arms and stood directly in the front of the car. When he had their attention, a sly smile rested on his face.

  “Fuck is up with this lil nigga?” Kit asked.

  “I don’t know but he betta move before I run his ass over.” Wallace beeped his horn but the kid maintained his stance.

  Kit rolled down his window and said, “Lil nigga, you betta get the fuck from in front of this car before we press that ass.”

  “Is that the great Lil C?” The kid said, walking toward the side of the car C was located on. “The one who think he’s better than everybody else?”

  “Yeah, nigga, it’s me.” C said through the window.

  The boy stood at C’s window and stared at him with hate in his eyes. “Good, ‘cause I never saw a real live dead nigga before.”

  “Hold up! What you just say to me?”

  “You’s a dead nigga.” The boy said, taking his finger and making a chop throat notion at his neck.

  C feeling disrespected hopped out of the car and the boy ran. Cars did their best to avoid hitting the boy and C. Kit, Wallace and Monie were hot on their trail.