Animal (25 page)

Young Dance got out of the passenger’s side of the red Benz, trying his best to light his blunt with a lighter that was obviously out of fuel. He too was wearing a fitted cap and white T-shirt with blue jeans. For summertime in Harlem having a plethora of white tees and a few fitted hats was a must, and Young Dance was Harlem to the heart. He and Don B. had been kicking it heavy all day, and The Don was showing Dance the time of his life. The Big Dawg crew was showing him major love, and he soaked it all up.

A cat named Tone jumped out of the white Benz and brushed himself off. Unlike Don B. and Dance, Tone had slightly different tastes when it came to dressing. He wore a crispy blue Polo shirt with a white fisherman’s cap, white linen pants, and a pair of white Nike Airs. Tone had been running with Don B. for years, but while Don B. was in the streets, Tone was away at school. When Don B. started getting big in the music industry, Tone left college to help his friend and applied what he had learned to helping his friend grow his record label. Don B. had always been a natural hustler, but with Tone’s book smarts and cutthroat nature, Big Dawg blew up!

“Damn, I didn’t realize how hungry I was until we got here,” Tone said, rubbing his stomach and looking inside the window of BBQ’s hungrily.

“Me too.” Dance licked his lips, which were now extremely dry from the weed. “Are we gonna wait for Devil and them to get here before we go in and eat?”

“Nah, Devil and them niggaz went ahead to the club. We’re gonna meet them down there when we bust this food down,” Don B. explained.

Young Dance looked shocked. “Son, for as big of a star as you are I thought you would roll everywhere with security.”

Don B. gave Dance a queer look. “My nigga, I ain’t no gangsta rapper; I’m a gangsta-turned-rapper. I keep security with me when it’s necessary, like doing clubs and appearances, but when I’m in the streets, I like to move how I move, smell me?”

“I guess,” Dance said.

“Besides, Tone would never let anything happen to me, would you, Tone?” Don B. said playfully.

“Never,” Tone answered with a serious face.

“Come on, let’s go eat so we can make moves to the spot.” Don B. led the way toward the entrance. It was quiet when he first walked in, but all it took was for one person to recognize him, then out came the groupies. Chicks were even trying to throw themselves at Dance because he was with Don B. “Feels good to be a rock star, doesn’t it?” Don B. whispered in Dance’s ear as he signed an autograph for one of the waitresses.

Once the manager and a few of the bus boys broke up the crowd, he asked Don B. to follow him to a secluded booth in the back where he could eat in peace. Don B. moved through the restaurant with a heavy dip in his walk so his big chain would swing harder. At one table a girl made the mistake of staring at him for too long and the dude she was with threw a glass of water in her face before getting up to leave. All eyes were on
Don B., as he preferred it. He wanted everybody in the joint to know that a
real
nigga was in the building.

As they crossed the dining room en route to the section the manager was seating them in, Young Dance made an offhanded comment about a cute dark-skinned chick who was sitting with two of her friends in a corner booth. When Don B. looked to see who he was talking about, he doubled over in laughter. He tapped Tone, who laughed too, and when they let Dance in on the joke, they laughed as a trio. Don B. could see rage flash across the girl’s face, and it only made him laugh harder. She barked something at him, trying to cause a scene, so he decided to feed into it and have a little fun at her expense.

Alonzo felt his stomach twist into knots when he saw Don B. and his crew approach the booth where Porsha and her friends were sitting. The thought of Don B. trying to holla at Porsha infuriated Alonzo, because he knew his type. People like Don B. thought that because they had money it entitled them to anything they wanted, while people like Alonzo had to jump through hoops for what little they had. Well, if somebody like Don B. was who Porsha wanted, then fuck her, he was gonna make the best out of his night with Veronica.

“You know them cats or something?” Veronica asked, noticing how Alonzo was looking at Don B.

Alonzo downplayed it. “Something like that.”

“Damn, you rolling heavier than I thought,” Veronica said, impressed that Alonzo knew such important people.

“Don’t believe the hype, ma. Me and scrams go back a bit, that’s all.” Alonzo waved his hand dismissively.

Veronica leaned back in her chair and folded her arms while
looking at Alonzo. “Zo, you kill me with this too cool for school attitude of yours.”

“How do you mean?” he asked curiously.

“I mean how you carry yourself like nothing fazes you. Zo, we come from the same thing, which is nothing, but here you are moving around with boss niggaz. Most muthafuckas would’ve lost their composure having those kinds of connections, but not you.”

“Well, I ain’t most muthafuckas,” Alonzo shrugged. His eyes cut back in Porsha’s direction. Don B. was smiling and kicking what he assumed to be some weak-ass lines to Porsha.

“That’s obvious to a duck,” Veronica continued. “A girl could probably spend most of her life trying to figure out what makes you tick.”

“I wouldn’t argue with you on that count. I’m like an onion, baby; there’s layers to me, so it may take you a minute to get to the center of who I really am,” he told her.

“I’m trying to get to know you, but your ass is like a puzzle that I can’t quite figure out.”

“Well, while you’re busy trying to figure me out, let me pick your brain a li’l bit. One thing I gotta ask is, how come a sexy broad like you ain’t got no man?” he asked.

“Why I gotta be a
broad
?” Veronica threw a napkin at him playfully. “To answer your question, it’s because most of the dudes I meet don’t have the same ambitions that I do.”

“I know that’s right.” Alonzo raised his drink, and they clicked glasses. He was waiting for Veronica to drop some more wisdom, and that’s when the conversation went to the left.

“True story, Zo,” she continued. “Most of these dudes just wanna get paroled to your crib or have you take care of them,
but I ain’t off that. If I’m bringing something to the table, then you gotta be bringing something to the table too. Shit, I got three kids, and it ain’t easy raising them on my own.”

“You got what, where, who?” Alonzo’s brain hit the air brakes.

“That’s why I fucks wit’ you, Alonzo.” She ignored the bewildered expression on his face and kept talking. “You’re about your business, daddy. I think that we can do big things together.”

“You’re coming at me with a lot right now. Give me a minute to digest all this.” He tried to derail her, but it was not to be.

“Ain’t too much to digest, Zo. I’m a girl who doesn’t believe in beating around the bush. When I see something I want, I go for it, and I want you!” Veronica told him.

“Baby, you don’t even know me,” he pointed out.

“Boy, please, we’ve known each other since high school. I had a soft spot for you then, and I got one for you now, Zo. You gotta admit that we were good together.”

“I hear you, V, but shit is different now than when we were in high school. I fucks wit’ you heavy, but I ain’t looking for no girl, at least right now. I’m just trying to make it through from one day to the next. As it stands, my life is a li’l complicated at the moment.”

“And I ain’t trying to complicate it further, Zo, I just want a chance to earn my spot in your heart.”

“The heart is a complicated thing,” Alonzo said honestly.

Veronica reached over and turned his head so that they were eye to eye. “Only as complicated as you make it. Boo, I was always the Bonnie to your Clyde, and we can be that way
again, but on another level. With a bitch like me at your side, you can go all the way to the top!”

Alonzo was totally lost. “To the top of what?”

“Of the
game.
What else?” she asked as if he should’ve known. “Zo, I know you, boo. You can fool some of these muthafuckas with that ‘working nigga’ shit, but my ears are always to the streets, so I know what it is.”

“And what is it?” he asked, still in total disbelief at how Veronica was coming at him.

“The streets are buzzing about how Zo-Pound is back. I didn’t believe it at first, but when I saw you with your brother Lakim that day, I knew it was true. Boo, I can show you better than I can tell you why a bitch like me would be such an asset to your team.”

Alonzo was waiting for her to hit him with the punch line so they could both have a good laugh, but the broad was serious. “You mean to tell me all this was about a job interview?” He laughed. “Baby, you shot-out, and that’s real talk. I don’t know who you think I am, but I ain’t
that
nigga, and I thought you weren’t
that
bitch, but obviously we were both wrong about each other.” He waved the waitress over so he could get the check. “I think it’s time for me to drop you off.”

“Wait a second, Zo. Did I do something wrong?” Veronica asked, confused and slightly panicked as she felt her hold on Zo slipping.

“Nah, baby, it ain’t you. This is all on me,” he told her, handing the waitress some bills and telling her to keep the change. Veronica kept trying to explain herself, but Alonzo was only half-listening, steering her toward the front door with his hand in the small of her back.

Passing the table where the girls were sitting he noticed that Porsha was on her feet, slinging obscenities at a million miles per minute. Don B. said something to Porsha, and whatever it was must’ve been foul because Frankie sprang to her feet and got into the argument. It looked like it was about to get real ugly. Alonzo turned away and continued walking toward the door with Veronica but stopped short. Every ounce of his good sense told him to keep walking and to mind his business, but he just couldn’t.

“Give me a second, Veronica.” Alonzo excused himself and started in the direction of the altercation.

“Zo, where you going?” she asked, but he never answered.

TWENTY-SEVEN

I
T WAS SAFE TO SAY THAT
F
RANKIE
was thoroughly drunk. She and the girls had drunk, eaten, and talked shit well into the night and everyone was feeling good, especially Porsha. Frankie didn’t miss the sly looks Porsha and Alonzo were giving each other from across the room. She had watched Alonzo and Porsha dance around their feelings for years, but anybody with eyes could see their chemistry. Randomly bumping into Alonzo that night after all that time was an act of fate, and Frankie just hoped that they would get it right this time around. She was looking around for the waitress to ask for the check and a dessert to go when she saw a face that soured her whole mood.

He stormed into the place like he owned it, flanked by two of his cronies. His Yankee fitted was cocked deep to one side, with the brim stopping just short of the frames of his black sunglasses. The icy chains hanging around his neck looked like Fruit Loops with their multicolored diamonds. The people eating at the restaurant threw themselves at the feet of the superstar rapper treating him like a god, but Frankie knew better than most that
he was the devil incarnate wearing a man’s skin. She had hoped that her friends hadn’t noticed him, but the looks on their faces said that they had. Both Dena and Porsha, on separate occasions, had confided in Frankie, so she alone knew the dark secrets that bound the two girls from two walks of life to one notorious man.

If looks could kill, then Don B. would’ve surely dropped dead from the murderous daggers Porsha was shooting at him. Porsha had been warned about Don B. and his antics, but the love and gifts he showered her with blinded her to his wicked ways. She actually thought she had a shot at being Don B.’s main lady, but soon learned the ugly truth when he drugged her and she woke up in a bed full of strange men and women.

When Porsha sobered up enough to make heads or tails of what had happened, she went off on Don B. and threatened to go to the police about the rape. He laughed it off and assured her that by the time his high-powered lawyers got done dragging her checkered past through the mud and media she would end up on the receiving end of a charge for trying to extort him. It was the lowest moment of her life and also a turning point.

Dena had been the youngest and the most innocent when she fell into Don B.’s clutches. She had been a young girl in love with a fast-talking pimp who pawned her off to a den of wolves, with Don B. as the Alpha of the pack. They broke Dena’s body and spirit, and though her brother had sacrificed his life in the process of eradicating her assailants, Don B. remained as a constant reminder of how the grown men had snatched her young innocence.

“Come on, y’all, let’s get outta here,” Frankie suggested.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Dena agreed, collecting her purse from the seat next to her to put up her portion for the bill. Her
hands were trembling so bad that she had trouble getting her money out. It had been her first time seeing Don B. since that horrific night so many years ago, and it broke down all the mental blocks she had erected in her mind. She could almost smell Don B.’s sweat on her as if the rape had only happened moments prior. It was all she could do to keep from screaming hysterically.