A Hustler's Son II (3 page)

Every man in attendance looked at her small waist and thick ass while she danced and swayed her arms in the air. She was putting on quite a show for Jarvis. And her sex-appeal stood out like a naked female in a male prison. Her light skin wasn’t as clear and flawless as it had been years back, but she was still a dime. Her golden locks fell over the tight-fitting white mini dress she wore by Loeffler Randall, and her black Christian Louboutin heels showcased her toned calves.

As good as life was, Jarvis had two problems. One…someone was stickin’ up his shops for the past few months. And two…he’d recently learned that his girl was getting high on his supply. And had he been the only person aware, he’d probably cover for her somehow since one of Jarvis’ flaws has always been a female. But she was caught red-handed by one of his trusted soldiers, and the situation had to be addressed.

“
You aigh’t, man?” Prangsta asked sitting in the available seat next to him. His long black dreads with bleach tips were pulled tightly into a long ponytail and stunk badly. His oversized pink lips were dry and cracked as usual.

Jarvis took a sip of the Remy VSOP in his glass, and pulled on his weed before taking another look at Steel. “You sure ‘bout what you saw right?” Steel smiled at him and he winked back.

“
That’s my word, Jarvis. I met shawty at the warehouse like you asked me but I got there early. This bitch I went to see earlier wasn’t fuckin’ so I put her ass out on the Brooklyn Bridge and had time to burn.” He laughed but Jarvis didn’t. Clearing his throat he continued, “Anyway...she didn’t see me walk up on her. She was diggin’ in one of the keys from inside the book bag with a switch blade. She still had blow on her face when I knocked on the window.”

What Prangsta didn’t tell Jarvis was that she begged him not to tell and sucked his dick on the spot in the back seat of her red Mercedes so he wouldn’t. Prangsta knew he’d never get a female of her caliber otherwise, so he took full advantage, but told Jarvis anyway excluding how he could now speak on the skills of her head game. Plus he knew once Jarvis found out she was getting high, anything she said would be worthless, even if it was the truth.

“
How you gonna handle it?” Prangsta questioned.

Jarvis gave him a look that shook Prangsta so bad, he got up and left. He didn’t feel the need to respond or answer his question. He was the boss, not the other way around.

After Prangsta removed himself from his table, he raised his glass to Kyope and took another sip. Although they were friends, Jarvis didn’t tell him about his personal life because he was quite aware of how Kyope despised how he wifed women so quickly.

Focusing back on Steel, he noticed she’d just returned from the restroom. Instead of having the same swagger she had earlier, she appeared disoriented. Her steps mirrored that of a child who was trying to walk for the first time. One leg stagnated first and the other slowly followed. It was clear she had gotten high in the bathroom moments earlier.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Her eyes met Jarvis’s before blood escaped from her nose and down her white expensive dress. A tear fell from her eyes shortly before she dropped to the floor.

While everyone rushed to her aide, Jarvis remained seated. He knew exactly what happened and felt no need to move. He’d placed battery acid in a key of his pure white before the party. He left it in clear view. And if it was true what Prangsta said, he knew she’d steal from him. And for her betrayal, the price was death. There was no way he could have a junky bitch on his arm, not even one he loved.

I ain’t gonna tell you my whole life story, plus I ain’t got time for that shit no way. Let’s just say a few months ago, I was a different person. And if I make it outta New York alive, I doubt I’ll ever be the same.

-Kelsi

Monday, 1:13 am

****

Fuck Life! Right now…at this mothafuckin’ moment, I gotta be the most dangerous nigga alive. Believe dat!

On my back, with my arms spread out on this dirty ass motel bed in Brooklyn, I think about how much more time I’d have to wait before I do what I came to do. The gray grungy carpet, dirty yellow curtains and broken T.V. shows the state of my world right now.

I feel grim.

I feel murderous.

I ain’t showered in days and was still sportin’ a white T, wit’ desert colored fatigues. I stared at the ceiling light so long, it started to blind me. Rubbin’ my hand over my swollen knuckles, due to punchin’ at the walls, I replayed over in my mind tomorrows’ plan of action.
Finally
after followin’ Kyope and Jarvis for months, I was preparin’ to make my move. I coulda smoked both of them niggas a long time ago, but death is too easy. I wanted their lifestyles stripped away, and then their souls.

Even though housekeepin’ was included wit’ the cheap ass $30.00 a night spot I rented, I never let the maid inside my room. I trusted nothin’ or no one. With my .45 next to me and a blunt in hand, I inhaled the smoke into my lungs. It took a second before I started feelin’ its effects.

For a moment I contemplated puttin’ the gun to my head, and pullin’ the trigger. Every day. And I do mean every fuckin’ day my thoughts went from killin’ myself to killin’ them niggas. I usually had these feelin’s while high. I’m walkin’ around dead anyway. Why not end it all? I guess the only thing that kept me from pushin’ off was revenge. I needed it…like I needed my dick.

I roam the streets of New York at night, half dead on my prowl. I’m so fucked up I could go on a murder spree and could care less about the consequences. Shit, I almost smoked two people a few hours ago when I went to grab somethin’ to eat. One muthafucka asked me for directions, and the other accidentally bumped into me rushin’ for a cab. If I don’t push off on them niggas soon, I don’t know what’ll happen.

The water in the sink dripped loudly from the rusted bathroom faucet when I heard a light knock at the door. Sittin’ up straight in the bed, I cocked my weapon and aimed in its direction. Seconds from smokin’ towards the worn out wood, my eyes roamed to the last bullet I let off in the wall a few days back.

I’m nicked up and paranoid.

Instead of firin’, I placed the fire from the blunt out on the floor and kicked it under the bed. Then I put on the smoke shades I always wore. I had to be a little smarter if I was gonna achieve my mission and poppin’ guns in my room was likely to bring unnecessary attention.

“Who the fuck is it?!”

Silence.

“I said who’s at the fuckin’ door?!” No one answered and I tiptoed toward it fully prepared to blast.

Had Jarvis and Kyope found me before I’d gotten them?

“Kelsi, it’s me. Kenosha.” Her voice was soft and she sounded worried.

My muscles relaxed and my breathin’ slowed down. Still…what the fuck was she doin’ here? She wasn’t supposed to come until tomorrow! Tuckin’ the gun in the back of my fatigues, I pulled my shirt down to conceal it. Then I turned around to look at the room. There was no use tryin’ to clean it.

It
was a fucked up mess.

I
was a fucked up mess.

If she wanted to pop up wit’out notice, she deserved to see exactly how I was livin’. She been blowin’ up my cell phone ever since I gave her the new number. I changed it so that Shelly, the bitch my mother left to care for me after she was murdered, would stop callin, askin’ me to come home. Wit’ nothin’ left to do but deal, I decided to check her right quick.

I opened the door wit’out botherin’ to greet her. Just walked back to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. Her brows raised when she saw me. The beard on my once hairless face probably tripped her out too. I knew I looked different, but then again, I was.

Kenosha on the other hand looked good. Her chocolate skin was flawless and her thick pink glossy lips were edible. I don’t care what else I had on my mind, when I saw her, I wanted to fuck. And it took everything in me to fight my dick from swellin’. She wore a pair of tight ass blue Coogi jeans, and a brown waist length leather jacket. That ass was calling me as she stepped toward me. I was in New York so long I forgot what a sexy-ass DC thoroughbred looked like.

Placing her Louis Vuitton purse on the floor, she knelt and put one hand on my knee. Then she looked into my shades wit’out sayin’ a word. She tried to take them off and I tapped her hand. Then I turned away before I addressed her. I couldn’t have any
distractions
and distraction was Kenosha’s middle name.

“Fuck you doin’ here?” I growled.

She sighed.

“I said what the fuck you doin’ here, Kenosha? I thought you were comin’ tomorrow. And I thought I told you to call first.”

Her perfume was the sweetest smell in the room , but I couldn’t tell her none of that shit because she fuckin’ disrespected my orders even if it had been months since I’d been in the company of a bad bitch of Kenosha’s caliber.

“Kelsi…what you still doing here? And why you wearin’ shades?” I ignored her. “It’s a waste of time beein’ here if you ain’t find who you lookin’ for,” she said softly. I wished I never told her what I was here to do. I guess I needed to tell somebody I was gonna kill the niggas responsible for my mother’s death. “And look at your face and stuff! You look all
hiiiiigh
and
shiiiiiiit
. I thought you was betta den this shit, Kelsi.”

“Kenosha…I ain’t leavin’‘til I handle my biz. Ain’t nobody come out here for no mothafuckin’ vacation. So if you tryin’ to get me to go back, you might as well kick rocks.”

Her head dropped in defeat as she rose to her feet. Then her eyes roamed around the room, as if it were the first time she
really
saw how filthy things were. All of the sheets from the bed were on the floor. My army bag sat on a chair opened, some clothes still in it, the others scattered around the bed. I bought some free weights last month and they did nothin’ but add to the mess even though I used them regularly. Everyday I got up early and worked out until the sun went down. I was buildin’ up more muscle than ever.

“I ain’t tryin’ to hear this shit right now,” I told her. “I got too much shit to deal wit’.”

Kenosha squinted her nose a little and I felt she was gettin’ ready to say somethin’ else smart. But you wouldn’t believe the shit that came out this bitch mouth.

“You been fuckin’ somebody else, Kelsi?”

Did I just hear this slut correctly? I’m out here on a mothafuckin’ mission and she askin’ me if I’m fuckin’ somebody. Kenosha not even my girl.

“YOUNG, what the fuck are you talkin’ ‘bout, Kenosha?” My eyes formed tiny slits as I waited for her answer.

“I mean yo sheets all on the floor and it stiiiinnks in here,” she continued rollin’ her head before placin’ her hands on her hips. “If you ain’t been fuckin’ it shoooooooo smell like it!”

Please don’t tell me this bitch traveled all the way from Maryland to New York just to work my fuckin’ nerves. I swear…I ain’t got time for this shit. I grabbed her by her arm, lifted her purse from the floor and pushed her ass to the door. As sexy as she was, I ain’t tryin’ to be bothered.

“Kelsiiiii, you hurtin’ meeeeee,” she whined as her words drug like always. She was trippin’ over her own feet as I shuffled her sideways.

“Kelsiiiii, I’m sorrrrrrrry.”

I already had the doorknob in my hand wit’ all intentions of throwin’ her the fuck out. Wit’ the door open, I waited for her to make an exit.

“Kelsiiii, I neeeeed you. Please don’t put me out. I drove sooooo far. I’m sorry. I just wanna stay wit’ you tonight. Pleeeeaaaaaase, Kelsiiii. I miss you sooooo much.”

I had a soft spot for beggin’ women. And she knew it.

I released the door and she closed it. Then I looked into her beautiful face and felt like she was bein’ real. Maybe she did need me. Or was I playin’ victim to the mental power women had over men. It seemed like every woman I let close to me, my mother included, played some sorta game.

She wrapped her arms ‘round my waist and pulled me in. She was use to dominatin’. Use to bein’ in control. ‘Specially in the bedroom. In fact, the last time I hit that shit, she was in
total
control. But I’ma different person now. So what’d I do? Lifted her ass up so that her body was straddlin’ mine, and walked her over to the bed. Her eyes widened when she felt her body floatin’ in the air. I guess she ain’t respect how strong a nigga was ‘til now. She threw her arms ‘round my neck and placed them lips I been dreamin’ ‘bout since she walked through the doors on me. A nigga was sweaty and high but she ain’t care.

I tossed her body on the mattress. Once on the sheet-less bed, I examined her sexy frame. Her 5’7 inch body moved a few times cuz of the squeaky bedsprings. She jive smiled a lil bit when she saw my devilish grin. Wit’out order, she turned around and wiggled that plump ass out them jeans. On her hands and knees, she rotated her ass so that I could get a good look at the pink center by movin’ her panties a lil’ to the right. The cherry color thong she wore invited me. I unzippened my fatigues and they dropped over my butter color timbs. Then I took my dick out of my boxers and held it in my hands ‘til it grew to complete fullness.

She cooed and begged me to hurry. I ain’t want things rushed. It had been a few months since I had a woman and I wanted to take my time.