Every Thug Needs A Lady (Thugs) (2 page)

“What do you mean, you got caught up before?” Angel quizzed. “That’s a whole ’nother story.”

“We got time,” Kyra added.

“I’ll tell y’all, but first let me throw this out there.”

“Oh, gosh. Now she’s gettin’ ready to get all philosophical and shit,” Jaz joked.

“No, check this out,” Roz said, puffing on her joint. “What’s up with this picture? We are all intelligent sisters, right?” “Right,” they all agreed.

“We all are fine, right?”

“Right,” they all said again.

“We all got college degrees, right?”

“Right.”

“So why do we attract the niggas that’s out there pimpin’, slangin’, bangin’ and ballin’? You know what I mean? Why not the niggas who are professionals: doctors; lawyers; investment bankers, and niggas like that? Y’all feel me?”

Everyone was silent. They were replaying in their minds what Roz had just said. Angel puffed on her joint and looked around at everybody, “I think it’s because we’re young, we’re fine, and the ballers ... well, that’s what they chase. But I am with Roz, I am through with that lifestyle.”

“You got a point,” Kyra said. “But we’re attracted to them just as much as they’re attracted to us. Y’all know them hustlin’, thuggish niggas turn us on. So don’t front.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But at the same time if we hung out around the professional brothers, we would be attracted to them. If they hung out around us they would be attracted to us. It depends on what and who you want. It seems like most women look for the thug in every brother. Baller, hustla, slanger or professional, thug me out, baby!” Jaz drooled. “Take charge, baby!”

“Right! Right! That’s what I like about Trae. He likes to run shit. Take over. I don’t know about the next ho, but that shit turns me on,” laughed Roz. “I know I don’t want no weak-ass, pushover nigga.”

“Turns you on? Look at me. I was sprung over a pimp. I was crazy about him. He was always runnin’ shit. And now Bilal has been trying to push up on me, but I’ve been duckin’ him out big time. I’m scared of that nigga. I won’t even tell him where I live. Plus I’m a lawyer now, I can’t be fucking with them criminal niggas anymore,” Angel said.

“Yeah, he came over here a couple of times to see Marvin. He’s a fine black brotha. I heard he’s a ho with your baby momma drama, so you better keep ducking him out if you don’t wanna get caught up. At least we attract all the fine niggas, even if they’re thugs,” Kyra said, bursting with laughter.

“Take the weed from her,” Roz snarled. “Ain’t shit funny. This is serious.”

“It’s funny to me!” she said and kept on laughing. Then they all started laughing. Roz crawled over to Kyra and took the joint then went over to Jaz and took hers.

“Y’all not supposed to be smoking anyway,” Roz snapped. “Come on, Tash,” Jaz joked, “this is the first time I got high since I’ve been pregnant.”

“Don’t call me Tash. Only one person is allowed to call me that.”

“Well, excuse me, Tash, but since you’re so serious, tell us about you getting caught up out there. How come you never told us that story?”

“The same reason you didn’t tell us about you cooking meth for the last year or so. You feel me?”

“I feel you,” Jaz whispered.

“What’s up with your case anyway? I still can’t believe you did that shit,” said Angel, getting into lawyer mode.

“I was sentenced to seventeen years,” Jaz answered. “Faheem paid a sentencing lawyer to make sure that I don’t start my sentence until after I have the baby. Then I have to self-surrender.” She leaned back into the recliner. “Then he paid a lawyer to handle my appeal to make sure that I can remain out on bond pending the outcome of the appeal. Just getting the damn thing heard can take anywhere from six months to two years.” She took a gulp of her grape juice.

“Seventeen years? You didn’t want to sign the fuckin’ plea bargain?” Roz wanted to know.

“Girl, fuckin’ with Faheem, his motto is ‘death before dishonor.’ He said to trust him and do it his way or take the high-way. So here I be.”

“I have to give it to you. You sure are handling it well,” Roz told her. “Putting your life in a nigga’s hands.”

“Shit! I wasn’t at first. I was stressing like crazy until Faheem threatened my ass. He told me that if something happens to his baby because of me stressing it wasn’t going to be nice. So I said ‘Fuck it. I’ma chill the fuck out. You want to run thangs? Then go right ahead my brotha.’ That’s why I’ve been chillin’. If things don’t turn out right, I’ma fuck him up and go to prison for some real shit!”

“Girl, you silly!” Roz told her.

“Silly? I am dead serious.”

“Now see,” Roz said, sitting up, “you and Kyra, y’all’s shit is rare. Like some storybook shit. Dude gets in the game. Dude gets legal. Dude gets out of game. Dude gets girl. Dude marries girl. They have kids and live happily ever fuckin’ after. Wait! Let me back up. Dude is a good man. Dude loves girl. Dude don’t fuck around on girl, causing a whole lot of drama. That shit is one-in-a-million odds, like hitting the fuckin’ lottery!”

“Wait!” Angel said, holding up both hands. “Don’t leave out, dude can fuck! Dude can keep a hard-on until girl comes. And comes. And comes again.” They all started laughing. “I ain’t mad at y’all. Because I know I’ma get mines one of these days.”

“Me neither. I ain’t mad at y’all. I got a feeling that Trae is all of that,” Roz said.

“Why is that Tash?” Jaz asked jokingly.

“None of your business! But one thing for sho’: If he ain’t all of that, I’ma clown his ass big time. And stop calling me Tash!”

“Oh, so you do plan on allowing him to hit it?” Kyra asked. “Bitch you need to slow your roll!”

“Chill out. I’m still investigating. Basically I’m just waiting until I’m ready. Plus I want to see how bad he wants me, how patient he’ll be. Shit I don’t know what the fuck I’m planning.”

“Oh, so you got it like that?” Angel asked. “You need to make up your mind. You just said you were done with that lifestyle, but at the same time you’re plotting and scheming. What do you think you can have your cake and eat it too?”

“Yes, I do. So when are y’all getting married?” Roz asked, putting her foot on Kyra’s knee, trying to change the subject, because she really had mixed emotions on the situation.

Kyra pushed her foot down. “I’m not sure when I want to do it. Marvin told me to let him know when I’m ready. What about you?” Kyra looked at Jaz.

“We’re waiting until Faheem’s dad comes home next May. He’ll have done nine years.”

“Dayum,” said Roz. “Everybody is trying to get their hustle on and they’re just locking us away and throwing away the keys. And that’s another thing. See ...”

They cut Roz off. “Oh, gosh! Here she goes again,” every-body sang at once.

“Naw, for real, y’all, listen. See, everybody is trying to survive. Them. Us. We go after the ballers because they’re obviously try-ing to surviving. Nobody wants to be all poor and shit, suffering. Folks are chasing that American dream that’s on TV. Now, I’ma be quiet.”

“Yeah, right! You said that two hours ago,” Kyra said. “What about our graduation party? Y’all wanna have it here?”

“Of course, I thought that was already decided.” Jaz responded. “It was,” Angel said. “Just don’t invite the whole city. And Kyra don’t have that baby until afterwards.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kyra answered sarcastically.

“Okay Tasha. We’re giving you the floor again. Tell us this big secret that you keep trying to keep to yourself.” Jaz leaned back and waited.

Everybody turned towards Roz. She fell back onto the floor and stretched her long legs onto the arm of the chair. “This shit better not leave this room,” she warned. She put both her hands under her head. She knew her girls wouldn’t tell this to anyone.

“Remember when I moved here from Chicago with my grandma because I told y’all my mom was sick?” She went on, not waiting on a response. “Well, Human Services came and took me, my brother and my sister from my parents. They were strung out on crack. Me, I was ten years old when I had started selling. By the time I turned twelve I was hangin’ out with my fast-ass cousin, Miranda, who was fifteen. We started smoking it and got strung out. I lost interest in selling and focused on smoking. Miranda was sucking dicks to get high, and so I started sucking them too. She was my hero. I was trying to be like her.

“Then I started laying on my back. I was a twelve-year-old crack ho. Shit, when I was selling, my pops made sure me and my brother had a whole block to ourselves at age eleven, I knew how to buy, cook, cut, weigh, and bag. I could run my own shit. That’s why when a lot of niggas step to me I don’t give them the time of day. That shit don’t impress me. I can get my own. I can talk to a nigga for three minutes and know if he’s really a hustler or not. My moms and pops were hustlers. But then they started smoking. I don’t know how that shit happened. It was downhill from there. You can’t sell and smoke the shit too. And once I started smoking it was downhill for me. My peeps didn’t even try to stop me. I was twelve but looked fifteen or sixteen. Y’all see how tall I am and how big my breasts are. I was twelve and fuckin’ grown-ass men for a rock. To this day, I never found out who called Human Services on us, but I think it was my Uncle Tommy, my mom’s brother. But whoever it was, they didn’t call until after my nine-year-old brother got murdered.”

“Murdered?” they all screamed.

“Yes, murdered. His name was Antoine. He was holding some dope somewhere in the house for this dealer named Turner. My mom found the dope and smoked it all up. Antoine thought he lost it, and so that’s what he told Turner. Turner blew his brains out with a 9, and he was only nine.”

“Goddamn!” yelled Kyra.

“That sounds like some shit you read in ghetto fiction,” shrieked Jaz.

Angel was silent, wiping tears off her face, Roz continued. “So about two days later they came and locked up my pops and my mom. They took me, Kevin and Trina and put us in a foster home. I stayed with them for about a month. Then they came and took me to a group home for teenage substance abusers and the abused. I was getting counseling seven days a week. About three months later, my grandma came and got us, and that’s how we ended up here in Jersey.”

“Dayum! Did that dude Turner go to jail?” Angel wanted to know.

“Nah, Kev smoked him. Kev was selling, too. Trina was the only one who didn’t get caught up at that time. But now I’m worried about both of them. Kevin, if he don’t slow down, will be goin’ to jail or six feet under. He loves hustlin’. That’s the difference between the young hustlers and the ones who been out there for a few. The older ones are trying to get the fuck out. The young ones, they like to floss and fuck everything with two legs, and most of them have no agenda or a stash. I don’t know what’s going to happen to him. All Trina’s doing is fuckin’ one hustler after another, just like them girls in Coldest Winter Ever. Did y’all read that yet?” Everybody answered no. “Y’all are so sorry,” Roz told them in disgust.

“Fuck you Roz. You know the semester just ended finals and shit,” Kyra snapped.

“Hell, yeah. I’m studying for the bar,” Angel said.

“Why are you always recommending shit for us to read any-way? What you getting? A percentage from the books we buy?” Jaz asked. They all laughed.

“Go to hell,” Roz said. “Y’all should be glad I read shit first and let y’all know if it’s worth your time or not. I should be charging for my services. When I used to go see Nikayah I used to have to sit for hours before they let me inside the visiting room. So I used that time to leisurely read.

“But, as I was saying, add to your list Uncle Yah Yah by Al Dickens and Until Tomorrow by Iyanla Vanzant. But my sister Trina reminds me of the character Winter and the girls in her crew. She thinks her looks and the fact that she can suck a dick is going to allow her to live in luxury for the rest of her life. She has no skills and no foundation. I keep telling her that it don’t work like that. She’s stupid enough to start carrying dope for them. Then when something goes down she’s gonna be left holding the bag. Next thing you know, she’s locked down and calling me collect, asking me to send her some commissary money because them same niggas won’t even accept her collect calls. So there, y’all.” She stood up to stretch before lying down again. “I’ve just shared all of my baggage with y’all. I feel like today was a therapy session.” Roz stretched her arms and put them back under her head.

“I can’t believe you never told us that shit,” Angel was dumb-founded.

“I can’t believe she went through all of that and came out like she did,” Kyra added.

“I’m just fuckin’ speechless,” Jaz said.

“If it wasn’t for prayers to the Creator and for my grandma, I’d be messed up,” Roz said. “A’ight, let’s change the subject. This shit better not leave this room.”

“A’ight. It’s my turn. I need to tell y’all something,” Angel said, sitting on the floor.

“I hope you are going to tell us that you are ready to move on with your life,” Kyra interrupted. “You’ve been through a lot. And, please, no more pimps. Have you been tested for AIDS?” she asked with a worried look.

“Yes, twice in the last year. And, like I told you, Keenan didn’t fuck them hos,” Angel said, rolling her eyes. “Now, as I was saying, at the office where I’m doing my internship, one of the partners, a fine older brother, Najee Roberts, has been checking me out. He asked me out to lunch a couple of times, but I’ve been declining. I’m like Tash. If he really wants me, he’ll be patient.” Roz high-fived her. “But I am investigating as well. I’m inviting Najee to lunch with me and my cousin, Morrie.”

“The undercover bisexual.” Kyra confirmed. He was her cousin too.

“Yep,” said Angel. “Our DL cousin.”

“Eww! Morrie’s gay?” shouted Roz.

“Yep! But you would never know it. Thugged-out, big-buffed brotha. He can spot another brother who’s down,” said Angel.

“You’re a mess,” Jaz teased. “I thought you had some real grime to tell us.”

“Just being cautious. I am not allowing a dirty dick all up in my pussy!” They all burst into laughter.

“Seriously though, that’s fucked up that you don’t know what’s up with Snake. What did you see in him other than his good looks?” Kyra asked, though she still hated him.