Tags: #Fiction, #Urban, #Women, #Romance
A Hood Fairytale
Ayce & Ava
A Novel By
Published by Royalty Publishing House
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the publisher.
This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 16+
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It was two o’clock in the morning and I was awakened by my mother’s shrill screams, which could only mean one thing: Joe was drunk and beating her ass just ‘cause. The fact that I can hear her all the way down in the basement meant he was showing no mercy. Joe is my mother’s boyfriend. I don't like the nigga and the nigga don't like me. I couldn't for the life of me understand why my mother would stay with a nigga that used her for a punching bag. I was tired of it, and I wasn't going to keep on sitting around letting the shit ride, like I'm some soft ass nigga.
I slid out my bed and pulled my sweatpants on before I went up the stairs. Walking into the living room, I could see my mother laid out on the floor motionless, and I feared that she was dead. Joe was standing next to her, literally kicking her with his steal toe boots. He didn't even notice I was in the room; it’s like he was in a daze. I charged at him, knocking him on the floor. I hit him over and over again.
“How you like that bitch ass nigga… you like getting your ass beat, huh, huh?”
He didn't answer me, didn't fight back either.
I got up and started stomping him with my bare foot and he curled up into a ball like a baby.
“Fight me nigga, fight me.”
It wasn't until I felt my mother’s touch on my back that I stopped beating his ass. I turned and looked at her almost throwing up. Both of her eyes were bleeding and she could barely open them. She had a big gash on her forehead and I was sure her nose was broken. She was holding her side with one hand and the other hand rubbed my face. She tried to talk to me, but the words just wouldn't come out. Tears rolled down her face as I went to wrap my arm around her.
POW… POW… POW!
The sound of bullets leaving a gun echoed through the house. My sister, Kalie, ran to the front room, crying hysterically. My mother’s body hit the floor and her body started to shake.
“Ma!” I yelled over and over, but I couldn't get her to focus. Kalie ran over to us and started to shake our mother.
“Mommy, please mommy.”
“Kalie, don't shake her, just let her be while I call the ambulance.”
I grabbed the land line and dialed ‘911’ as I looked around for Joe, but didn't see him anywhere.
“I need an ambulance at 5684 Olivet Avenue. My mother’s been shot, please hurry.” I hung up the phone and went to put on a shirt, before sitting at my mother’s side with my sister, waiting for help to come.
It seemed like hours passed before the paramedics finally got there. Looking at my mother, I could tell life was leaving her body. As the medics placed her on a gurney, she faintly smiled at us.
“It's okay, I'm free now,” she whispered.
“Jayce, make sure you finish school. I'm so proud of you. You’re almost done. Please take care of your sister, y'all only got each other. And remember that I love you both.”
“Mommy, nooooooooooooo!” Kalie yelled as tears fell down her face.
“Please don't let me mother die… you got to save her, please don't let her die.”
As they put my mother in the back of the ambulance, of course the whole block was out being nosy.
“Jayce, Jayce, what happened to Ella?” Ms. Carter from across the street asked, as my sister and I climbed in the back of the ambulance. I hated when she called me by name in front of everyone.
“Do you need me to meet you at the hospital?” Remy asked, walking from down the street.
Remy and I ain't dating or nothing, but I have been hittin’ that ass for the past three years. I have thought about making it official between us, but her childish ass ways makes me change my mind every time.
I nodded my head yes, for her to meet us at the hospital.
We sat in silence holding my mother’s hands until we reached the hospital. She was still alive but barely, and I hoped they could save her.
“Sir, are you okay?” one of the medics asked, as we climbed out the ambulance and they rushed my mother into the hospital.
“You should have a doctor look at that,” he said pointing to my arm.
“I'm not worried about me; just make sure my mother doesn't die.”
My mother was immediately taken into surgery, but it had been three hours and nobody would tell us what the fuck was going on.
Remy arrived like an hour later, looking like she was about to go to the club or something. I mean, who wears six-inch stilettos and a tube dress to the damn hospital.
“Any word yet?” she asked rubbing my back.
“Ayce, baby your arm is bleeding.”
“I know, I'll be okay.”
With that, she went to sit next to Kalie.
I paced the floor so long that I had to take a piss. Going into the bathroom, I take a look at my arm real quick. I can see it's nothing but a flesh wound that will heal on its own and add to the many other scars of life.
Growing up I had it rough. The hood I grew up in was relentless. Every day since I was six, I was fighting some nigga from the hood who thought I was soft or some shit. But they quickly learned that I ain't nothing nice. I remember having to hustle to help my mom with food and bills. I used to sweep up hair in the barber shops and the beauty salons. Sometimes I went to the gas station to pump gas, or the grocery store to carry bags to the car. At first money was slow, but the more I stuck to it the more money I made.
One day while I was at the gas station pumping gas, I ran into a nigga that looks just like Idris Elba, but goes by the name Duce. He said he liked my hustle, but pumping gas wasn't going to get me the kinda racks I needed. He told me when I was ready to make some real money, to come holla at him. At the time I was thirteen and didn’t want any parts of that life, but as time passed and I got older, I started thinking otherwise; however, my mother wasn't having that shit. She stayed on my ass and made sure I finished school. I graduated with honors and at the age of twenty-two, I am now in my third year of college at Cleveland State. I got a job down at the corner store bagging groceries, and my mother was so proud of me because she said it was honest work, and now I'm in this hospital praying that my mama pulls through.
I cleaned my arm the best I could with soap and water, and took a piss before I went back to the waiting room. I could see Kalie stretched out across the chairs sleep, while Remy sat texting someone on her phone. As soon as I sat down, the doctor came into the waiting room asking for the family of Ella Thomas.
“That's us.” My sister jumped up at the mention of our mother's name.
“What's up Doc, tell us our mother is good.”
“Nooooooooooo, don't start with that I'm sorry shit.”
Kalie broke down and was on the floor holding herself crying, while Remy tried to console her. I stood there looking at the doctor, waiting for him to finish talking.
“We did everything we could to save her. She was shot three times: in the shoulder, the leg and the third bullet punctured her lung, causing her to bleed internally.”
I could see security walking over to where we were standing.
“So what the fuck are you saying? You’re saying my mama is dead? You telling me my mama dead, huh?” I asked hitting my chest.
I stood there letting the words sink in before I lunged at the doctor. Two security officers held me back while the doctor hurriedly walked away.
“Get the fuck off me!” I yelled throwing the security officers off me. Remy ran over to me and wrapped her arms around me.
“Baby, I'm here, baby.”
I looked down at my sister, who was still crying hysterically. Tears rolled down my face as I was faced with the reality of my mother being dead.
Turning down Olivet in my black-on-black 2015 Cadillac ATS Coupe, on my way to my daddy's house, I could see two police cars and a news truck. There were so many people standing around, some crying, some just with a look of disbelief on their faces. A newscaster was trying to talk to Ayce, but he wasn't feeling it. I parked my car so I could go see what was going on. Ayce and I grew up in the same hood. We dated for a while, were even prom king and queen, but he dumped me when he found out I fucked his boy, Maurice. I was stupid as fuck for that one, because Ayce was good to me, but I thought I was missing out on something. Maurice was a sexy ass pretty boy, but he was a thug. He was in these streets just as hard as my daddy, and I was turned on by that. I even thought that one day we could take over my daddy's shit when he was ready to retire. But after we fucked, things went from sugar to shit and I realized I had made a big mistake. No matter how many times I apologized to Ayce, he said he couldn't be with someone he didn't trust.
I made eye contact with Ayce, just as he told the reporter to get the fuck off his property and not to come back.
“Ayce, what happened?” I asked jogging over to him.
He turned and looked at me and if looks could kill, I would have been a dead bitch, but I stood my ground.
“My mother was killed,” he said, as he turned and walked into the house.
That news hit me like a ton of bricks. Ms. Thomas was the sweetest person you could ever meet and I couldn't imagine anyone wanting to kill her. She would do anything in her power to help you if you needed anything, even if that meant giving you the clothes off her back.
I walked into the house after him because I wanted to check on Kalie.
“She's over her friend Justice's house… said she couldn't come back here,” Ayce said, sitting on the couch putting his head in his hands. He looked like shit and all I wanted to do at that moment was wrap my arms around him and let him know I was here for him.
“I'm so sorry to hear about your mother. If you need anything I am here for you,” I said sitting next to him on the couch. I reached out to rub his back, when Remy came walking through the door.
“I made sure Kalie got to Justice's house okay,” she said squeezing in between us.
Remy and I never got along. She had too much damn mouth and could never back her shit up. I wanted to yank her up by her hair and fuck her up just ‘cause, but instead of causing a scene, I got up and walked out of his house.
Driving a few blocks over, I pull up at my daddy's house. Even though my daddy could move out the hood, he refused to.
Walking into my daddy's house, I see him sitting on the arm of the couch in front of the TV, with a look of hurt on his face.
“You watching the news?” I ask him walking over to him.
“Yeah, this shit is fucked up.”
While my daddy never went into detail, I know my father and Ms. Thomas knew each other very well.
“You going to be ok?”
“Yeah, I'm good,” he said turning off the TV as Mia came down the stairs.
I glared at her as she gave him a kiss on the lips.
I couldn't stand her. She was nothing more than a project bitch looking for a come up, just like my mother was. My dad told me when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, she told him she didn't want any kids and she was going to get an abortion. My daddy told her if she killed me, he would kill her. She knew my daddy would not hesitate to take her out because he could be that ruthless. She also knew that my daddy was a paid nigga, so she kept me, but told my daddy he had to pay her for having a baby for him. She wasn't even out of the hospital good before she took the $150,000 my daddy gave her and was ghost. It was just me and my daddy, until he decided to marry this Gabrielle Union looking bitch a couple years ago that's just four years older than me. My daddy can have any woman he wants but always goes for the bottom of the barrel.
Everyone around here calls him Duce; to me he is Rolando Cummings, my daddy.
He started off in the game when he was just 17 and with his hunger for money, he quickly made a name for himself. In the years to come, the streets proved their loyalty to him, so he vowed to be loyal to the streets and when the opportunity presented itself, he became the king of the streets. My daddy's hood status was platinum and he is the meaning of the word Boss.
“We were talking,” I said to Mia, who had made herself comfortable on the couch next to my daddy.
“And, I'm not stopping y'all from talking.”
“Why every time me and my daddy having a moment you have to come and get in the mix? Don't you have something else you could be doing?”
“You know,” she said getting up walking over to me, “It's about time you get over whatever issue you have with me, because I ain't going nowhere.”
“I will always have an issue with a broke, gold digging, bottom of the barrel bitch.”
“Ro, you going to let her talk to me like that?”
“This shit between y’all; I got bigger things to handle,” my daddy said, giving us both a kiss on the cheek and walking out the door.
I laughed because she was always trying to get my daddy to side with her and he never does.
I really couldn't stand this bitch. It was something so familiar about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it, but one thing is for sure, I don't trust her.
“I advise you to stay out my face with all the bull and know your place, ‘cause we both know you ain't ‘bout that life,” I said turning to leave the house.
My phone chimed letting me know I got a text.
“Dought yuh were coming drough
it read. I smiled as I texted back.
I'm on my way now
Well hurry up, mi dick hawd as fuck waiting pon yuh to bring dat ass
After reading that text, I got into my car, and backed out of my driveway, going from 0 to 40 miles in a matter of seconds, reaching my destination in about fifteen minutes.
Fahim and I have been fucking around on and off for about seven months. He is one-hundred percent Jamaican and runs the Jamaican Hitta Squad on the south side of Cleveland. If you had a problem with someone, he or his goons will be more than happy to take them out or clean them up.
“Where you at?” I said entering his house.
“It's ‘bout damn time yuh fi bring yuh sexy ass ova here,” he said coming out of the kitchen.
He stood looking at me, in my cut-off jean shorts and my Michael Kors's oversized shirt, and my Michael Kors pumps.
He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed me deeply as he carried me over to the couch.
“Mmmmmmmmm,” I moaned as he trailed kisses down my neck. I opened my eyes and watched him as he began to undress me. Fahim was sexy as hell, with deep chocolate skin and light brown eyes. He stood about 6'2 and weighed about 250, but he was all muscle. His hair came past his shoulders, but he always kept it twisted. I traced the hard line of his jaw as he looked me in my eyes.
“Weh yuh ah du to mi gyal?”
“I ain't done nothing yet, but I'm about to make you say my name,” I said making him sit on the couch. I climbed on top of him and kissed his lips, as I took off his clothes. His thick dick was hard and ready, and calling for me to taste it. Trailing kisses down his body, I took him all the way into my mouth.
“Dodo gyal, damn.”
His dick tickled my tonsils as I got my rhythm going. He pulled at my hair as I sped up my pace.
“Mercy, I'm guh fi cum.”
I wasn't ready for him to cum yet, so I gave his dick a couple more licks before I sat on it.
“Shit boy, your dick is so big.” I swear I could feel him in my stomach as I rode him. He grabbed my hips and smacked my ass. This only encouraged me to go harder and faster. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, causing me to say his name.
“Shit Fahim, I'm about to cum.”
“Cum fi mi Ava,” he said wrapping his arms around me.
“Mi luv yuh.”
Now that fucked up everything. I finished riding out the wave of ecstasy that ripped through my body, then climbed off his dick, immediately putting my clothes back on.
“Weh yuh ah du huh?”
“I have some business to take care of, so I gotta go,” I said.
“Aredi, dought wi were spending di day togeda?”
“Not today, Fahim.”
His dick bobbed up and down as he got off the couch and walked over to me.
“Tell mi wat yuh a tinking,” he said making me look at him.
“All that love shit you talking I ain't down with. I just want a nut, nothing more, nothing less and I told you that from the beginning.”
“Dat was seven monds ago. I dought wi were past dat.”
“No, looks like your past that.”
My heart still belonged to Ayce and even though he can't see it right now, we were going to be together one day.
He looked into my eyes and all I could see was rage, but I am Duce's daughter so I ain't never scared.
“Well ramp yuh to sketel.”
I laughed at him as I walked out the door. Poor baby whipped over this pussy.