Candy Licker (21 page)

“All right, Candy. You all right, girl. Stop making all that noise. Savage can't hurt you.” He wiped at the tiny row of bloody spots burning on my thigh, then held the snake by the head and forced her mouth open. “See? Just some real little teeth in there. They sharp, but they ain't poisonous. She ain't even got no venom in her. And she just ate so she ain't hungry enough to squeeze you too hard.”

I was straight wailing. Holding my thigh as more blood eased out and down my leg. “It was just a joke, Candy,” he insisted, wiping at my leg some more. “Goddamn, girl. It was a joke. See, watch this.”

He lifted Savage in the air and held her mouth open again, then pressed her mouth down onto his forearm. She sank in so fast I almost didn't see her move.

“Okay?” he said, holding his arm up to show me. “You feel better now that she bit me too? I told you the snake can't hurt you, so now you know it's true.” That fool draped Savage over one shoulder and snatched the blanket off of me. “Now get up and go wash your ass. Brush your teeth too. You got another radio slot at HOT 97 today, and this time you better not fuckin miss it.”

I rolled outta that bed in a hurry. I limped into the bathroom and poured some peroxide on those little bloody dots, crying my ass off. Later that afternoon on the way to the radio station Hurricane told me I better not say nothing about it to
nobody. “And don't be walking around here like you got shot in the leg neither. I got bit too, and you don't see me whining.”

I showed Caramel my snakebite that night and she didn't even seem impressed.

“Oh, it don't look that bad. It's just a kiss. You such a drama queen, Candy. The way you was talking I thought you had a big hole in your leg or something. Just put a Band-Aid on it. It'll be all right in a few days.”

She was lucky she was my sister. Caramel and Hurricane could both go somewhere far. That kiss from Savage was both a mark and a memory that I was gonna carry with me for the rest of my life. All the way to my grave.

I
f I didn't know any better I would have sworn Hurricane's big bad ass was shook. It was almost ten in the morning and we were still in the studio. He'd made me stay up almost the whole damn night, rehearsing and re-rehearsing a cut he felt was coming out less than perfect. At five in the morning he'd told me to go downstairs and catch a catnap in one of the video rooms, but I don't think he'd slept at all. He was still hard at work. His shirt was off and his eyes were red and tired.

His cell phone rang, lighting up in all colors. “Yeah!” he snatched it up and barked. He had certain ring tones for certain people, and I knew this tone meant a 911 was in the works. Some hot shit was going down.

“Yeah, whassup Mr. D?” He listened for a moment, then sat straight up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold the fuck up! That shit is already paid for! I swear to God, I took care of that. They 'posed to have two fuckin crates set aside for you. You sure about that?” I peeked over at him. He was so hyped his titty muscles had started twitching. “Aaight. Tell 'em to chill the fuck out till I get
there. Lemme round up my niggahs and we be up that way in a minute.”

Two seconds later he was on his feet. “Damn! Get your ass up outta here, Candy 'cause I got some business to handle. And oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. You gotta be down in Brooklyn today at two for a photo shoot with XXL.”

“Cool,” I said, and just stood there. He'd been cooped up in this office for too damn long and I could tell he was stressing. Mess was all over the place. Half-empty juice bottles, orange peels, cracked-open nuts. “What time we leaving so I can call Dom and Vonnie and let them know when to be here?”

He glared at me with those red devil eyes. “Did I say anything about them hoes? I said
you
got a shoot to do today, Candy. You. Your ass is a solo act now, remember? Goddamn! How many fuckin’ times do somebody have to tell your stupid ass something? You act like you can't live without them bitches. Which one of them you fuckin’, Candy, huh? That stank-ass ho Vonzelle? Or that undercover pussy licker Dominica? You need them jawns more than you need me? Either one of them doing more for you than I'm doing? I got shit lined up for you that them two hoes can't even understand. You gone be up there with all the top stars and you wanna drag them two project bitches around behind you, right? Just what the fuck is your problem, Candy, huh?”

I knew better than to answer. I just stood there looking down at the floor while he went on and on, letting him rage and talk shit until he got tired. Hurricane was under a lot of pressure 'cause he did a lot of jobs. I didn't get mad behind the noise he was making because I understood it. Scandalous! had busted out on the scene undeniably large, and he just wanted
to take advantage of that by keeping my face in the media so the fans would be begging for my solo release.

He was slaving in the studio for me day and night because he was trying to get me out there in a big way and that's what it was all about. Hurricane had visions of taking my career to the next level. He'd gotten me mad radio spots, cable TV shows, BET and MTV interviews, and a couple of hot photo shoots too. All of this was important because he wanted me to be able to rub shoulders with artists like Beyoncé and Missy Elliot and Eve as often as possible.

“How am I getting all the way to Brooklyn?” I asked as he damn near knocked me down going out the door. “I don't know where their studio is.”

He spoke over his shoulder. “Call Knowledge. He'll take you.”

K
nowledge was already at the House but his car was being serviced at the dealer, and since Cane and his boys were taking the limo and the Yukon, we were gonna have to take the train to Brooklyn. Hurricane had given me some money and told me to go around the corner to the Puerto Rican hair salon and get my hair and makeup done. When I came out of there two hours later my hair was live, my skin was fresh, my jewels were large. I was looking delicious and I knew it. But I was nervous too. Sexy nervous. Turned-on nervous. Excited and charged. I needed some release and wished I had somebody who could do some thangs to my nookie.

Instead, I thought about the trip I was about to take with Knowledge.

This was gonna be my first time spending some
real
time with him, and I looked forward to riding down to Brooklyn and finding out what he was all about. Something about that mothersucker just moved me. Hurricane, with all his endless weight lifting and probably some steroids too, was three times buffer, but there was something strong about Knowledge that I liked. He gave off a vibe that was just as powerful as Hurricane's but with none of that poser-ass bullshit attached.

Just thinking about him had me wet and horny, and if it wasn't almost time to leave, my fingers would have been all up in my panties getting me a quick one.

Riding the train with Knowledge was unreal. His gear was expensive without being outrageous. He was comfortable with himself and wasn't out to impress nobody, so you know I was highly impressed.

We were sitting in a two-seater on the number 4 train going downtown, and all kinds of feelings rushed through me. People was looking at us like we were a couple and I didn't mind at all. For the first time in a long time I was out and about like a regular chick. I felt young again. Free. Wasn't nobody watching me and nobody was telling me what to do. Just being up under Knowledge had me more aware of me. The underground sounds and smells had me hyped. The movement of the train rocked me with excitement. My thigh rubbing up against Knowledge's hard leg sparked a fire in my coochie and left me trembling inside. We were speeding through the tunnel and the noise was up, up, up. “So,” I hollered in his ear, pressing my titty against his arm, “how long you been working for Hurricane?”

He leaned over and put his lips next to my ear, and a shiver hit me so hard I almost moaned. “Four years.”

I crossed my legs and nodded. “So you like it then, huh?”

He shrugged, his dark brown eyes giving up absolutely nothing. “It's a job. It's what I get paid to do.”

I cut my eyes at him. His voice was kinda cold, but ice ain't what I saw in his eyes. I'd felt him checking me out while we waited for the train. His eyeballs had been roaming all over me like loose marbles.

The train stopped at Ninety-sixth Street and I kept right on fishing. “You a real lawyer? You look kinda young to me. How's a brother like you get into a grind like that?”

He actually looked at me. “What? Only old white men are supposed to be attorneys? I got into law for the same reason most people do. Cheese. Green-boys. Money.”

“Well”—I shrugged right back at him—“I used to do shit just for the money, and it almost got me killed. Now I do what I do because I got a goal. Because I got someplace in life I wanna be.”

The train lurched and he turned to me. “What makes you think I don't?”

I hunched my shoulders and crossed my legs again. “I don't know. You one of Hurricane's top lieutenants, how much higher can you go? I figure most of
y
all are just happy to be a part of all his hype, you know? In his mix. Satisfied with where you are.”

I musta hit a nerve somewhere because ol’ Knowledge bust out with the longest sentence I'd ever heard him speak. “Check this out, miss lady. Ain't nobody trapped under Hurricane's roof except you. You see anybody else living up in the middle with that niggah? All the rest of us are getting paid to be there.
And I'm getting laced the most. Now, if you
ain't
doing this shit for the money, then I sure feel for you 'cause that means your young ass is really stuck.”

“I'm working too!” I shot back. “Since you the one keeping the books you oughtta know just how much bank Scandalous! is bringing in. Hurricane ain't in the business of giving away free albums, you know. I'm getting paid too,” I lied, “but unlike the rest of y all gaming niggrows out at the mansion, I got a solid career going. One that's gonna take me big places and set me and my sister up for life.”

He gave me a long, bored look. Then he said quietly, “Cool. But just like I see what's coming through them doors, you ought to know I can count what's going out too. Ain't nobody getting paid from Scandalous! except Hurricane. You might wanna tell that dumb shit to somebody who don't know no better.”

I guess that was supposed to be a shutdown. He pulled a book out of his back pocket and put his eyes on it. I folded my arms across my titties and stared straight ahead.

T
he words swam all over the pages of his book as Knowledge pretended to read. She was pissed off, and deep inside he was highly amused. He'd just checked her hard and put two little angry red spots on Candy's light brown cheeks. She couldn't think of nothing to come back at him with, so she sat there steaming mad with her sexy-ass self, her arms crossed and her body swaying with the rhythm of the train.

She might not have had a plan, but at least she had a goal, Knowledge thought with approval. That meant she was smart enough to look at the House of Homicide as a temporary pit
stop. Hurricane's label was hot, but it wasn't the only one out there. Besides, with all the grimy shit Hurricane was into, his shit could get flipped without warning. Every dirty empire in the world had had its rise and its fall, and if Hurricane kept fucking around with those guns and those Italians he could end up on his ass looking up at the sky someday.

The train pulled into the Atlantic Avenue station, and Knowledge closed his book and put it back in his pocket. He tapped Candy on the thigh, then stood up and reached for the overhead handle. Candy got up and faced away from him, even though the door was the opposite way. He laughed inside. The only reason she had an attitude was because he'd put a mirror in her face and showed her the truth. Knowledge knew how much the truth could hurt. He lived with that kind of pain every day.

They took the number 3 train to Nevins Street, then got off and started walking. The photo shoot was in a studio off of Hanson Place, and as Knowledge led Candy through the streets of Brooklyn he pretended to ignore her but was, in reality, stealing small glances at her as she flowed at his side. Men and women stared at her as they walked down the street, and despite himself he had the urge to grab her hand and pull her closer to him.