Gangsta Divas (3 page)

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Authors: De'nesha Diamond

BOOK: Gangsta Divas
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4
Alice
R
ain shatters like white diamonds across the van's windshield as my new nigga pulls our black van off the main road. My heart pounds like a fuckin' racehorse, anticipating seeing my Nana Maybelle's old house. It's been so long and there's so many memories—good and bad.
“Are you sure that you can see where you're going?”
He cocks a lopsided grin. “Don't worry, baby. I got this.”
I hate to tell him that I don't trust any nigga. After we travel a half a mile down a gravelly road, the house finally comes into view. Gone is its former regal beauty.The place has seen better days, but that's a'ight, it will suit my purposes.To be honest, I feared that this day would never come. Don't get me wrong, I've dreamed of this moment for years, but it was too much to believe that I could ever pull it off.
Now I have.
Look. I've done a lot of fucked-up shit in my life. I know that—but a lot of times, the shit wasn't my fault. The cards have always been stacked against me. From my being born to a momma who pumped out babies until her insides fell out to my being shipped out of the cotton fields of Mississippi to my Nana Maybelle in Memphis. At first, I remember being excited. Back in the day, Memphis was the shit. The music scene was jumpin' and niggas was making big money hustlin' everything from numbers to smack. No one hustled harder than Nana Maybelle.
When I arrived, I thought Nana was rich. None of our asses went without a muthafuckin' thing. We wore the best clothes and lived in a big-ass house. People respected Nana's gangsta like she had balls saggin' between her legs. One thing she made sure of was no one fucked with her people or her paper—and not in that order.
But nobody stayed under her roof for free either. If we expected to keep that roof over our heads then we were expected to pull our weight. So I was taught how to run numbers, do drops, and collect taxes within days of my ass moving in. As far as protection, my sister, Maybelline, taught me how to wield a blade. I got real good at the shit, too. We lived like fuckin' kings and queens and there was no bigger queen gangster than Maybelline. She had a line of niggas callin' her Peaches and ready to lick the crack of her ass despite her having a big monkey on her back. Everyone pretended like they didn't see it.
I did, too—for a while.
Shit jumped the tracks when I turned twelve and I made the mistake of waking up in the middle of the night....
 
“Alice, what the fuck are you doing in here?” Maybelline barked.
My eyes bugged at the sight of a man's yellow behind pumpin' in between Maybelline's legs.
“Get the fuck out of here,” she snapped again. “Go back to bed.” She dropped her head onto the pillow and started moaning and groaning.
I couldn't tell if she was enjoying what was happening or not. The sounds confused me. I stood there, not sure of what to do. Yet, at the same time, I was fascinated.
SQUEAK. BANG. SQUEAK. BANG.
It was the bed making all that noise.
SQUEAK. BANG. SQUEAK. BANG.
“I said get the fuck out of here!”
The yellow man chuckled. “Let the girl be. Maybe she's learning a thing or two.” He wrapped an arm around Maybelline and flipped her over. “You see how much your sister like this good dick I'm throwing at her?” he asked me.
Was she?
“Leroy, stop playing . . . OH . . . shit. That's my spot, baby.”
“Hell, yeah. Big Daddy knows how you like it,” he bragged. He spread open my sister's booty and I twisted up my face in disgust. “Shit is good, ain't it, baby?”
“Fuck yeah.” Then Maybelline spotted me again. “A-Alice . . . oh . . . shit. Dammit. Don't make me tell you again. NOW GO!”
Turning, I ran out and slammed the door behind me. Back in my own room, I slammed my own door and then covered my mouth with my free hand. Then, I laughed. Hard. I simply couldn't believe what I'd just seen. It wasn't like I never heard of sex. I had heard things and even seen some nasty pictures, but I'd never seen the shit raw like that. I set Nana's gun down on top of the chest of drawers next to the door and giggled my way back to bed.
SQUEAK. BANG. SQUEAK. BANG. SQUEAK. BANG.
I shook my head. I couldn't wait to tell Nana Maybelle about this shit. Maybelline was gonna get it. Nana done told us plenty of times not to bring niggas up in her house when she wasn't home.
The squeaking and banging went on forever. In order to get some sleep, I ended up burying my head underneath the pillows. No sooner than when I dozed off, I felt something slide up my leg. Groggily, I kicked it away, but it became rougher and more persistent. Alarmed, I tossed off the pillow and tried to sit up, but I didn't get an inch up off the bed before I was pinned back down with a huge hand shoved across my mouth. Who in the fuck?
“Shhhh,” the man said, peeling back my bedsheets. “We don't want to wake Peaches up, do we?”
My eyes bulged as I realized who it was. I screamed and shoved him off me, but my voice was muted behind his hand and he was far too strong.
“Now. Now.You want to be nice to your Uncle Leroy, don't you?”
I screamed again, but he laughed and shoved a hand between my legs.
“Ah. Yeah. This is what I'm talkin' about. Your shit is tight as fuck.” He crammed in two more fingers and wiggled them around. “Has another nigga been up this shit before?”
I didn't understand what he was asking me. Tears rolled from the corners of my eyes.
“Nah. This is some fresh pussy here.” He chuckled his beer breath into my face. “Shit. It must be my muthafuckin' birthday.” He yanked my panties off of my hips and then snapped my legs open like a wishbone.
“Aaaaargh!” Leroy backhanded me so hard, cartoon stars rotated around my head.
“Shut the fuck up!” His hand crammed back over my mouth. “Are you tryna get my ass in trouble? Huh? I just came in here to give you what you wanted, baby girl.”
Hot tears blanketed my face. I didn't want this. He was hurting me.
“I saw how you were looking when I was doing Peaches. You wanted a taste of Leroy for yourself, didn't you?”
“Noooo!”
Leroy's backhand rocked my head in the opposite direction. A second later, blood oozed into my mouth.
“You're a muthafuckin' liar.” Leroy grabbed my hand and then forced it around his dick. “You like that, baby girl? It's all for you.”
My heart raced around my chest. His shit was hard and thick. Surely he didn't think that he could fit all of that inside of me.
“You like that, baby girl? Hmm? You feel how hard you got me, thinking about your tight pussy? Fuck. I bet your shit is sweeter than Peaches's.”
“Please,” I mumbled under his hand. “Don't.”
“It's gonna hurt for a second, but after that you're gonna be beggin' my ass not to stop.”
His hand pressed harder against my mouth—to the point that I thought my teeth were gonna collapse. Where the fuck was Peaches?
“Be happy, baby. Uncle Leroy is about to make a woman out of you.” Before he even finished the sentence, he thrust up his hips and split me wide open.
I screamed, cried, and bucked like hell; but he remained on top of me, ripping me apart.
“Aw, shit,” Leroy panted. “This is some good shit. Oooh.” He huffed and puffed and drilled his hips. He seemed unaware I was suffocating—that or he didn't give a shit. My chest hurt, my head swelled, and the demon on top of me kept drilling his dick.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Maybelline bolted inside.
“Peaches, you come in here to join us?” Leroy asked, still stroking between my legs.
“Muthafucka, get off my sister!” Peaches ran toward the bed, leapt onto Leroy's back, and pounded him on the head. “You sick, muthafucka. She's just a kid.”
“Wh-what the fuck! Get off me.” With one powerful swing back, Leroy sent Maybelline careening back toward the wall.
She hit it headfirst and then dropped down on top of the nightstand below. However, she didn't stay down long. She bounced up, grabbed my brass lamp, and swung it at Leroy's head.
Thunk!
At last Leroy was lifted off of me.
I shot up, wheezing for oxygen, and then scrambled off the bed.
“I'm going to fuckin' kill you!” Maybelline sprang back onto the bed, fists flying.
Leroy acted as if he felt no pain. He grabbed my sister by the throat and then whaled on her like a punching bag.
I rushed for Nana's gun on the chest of drawers and swung back around.
“Have you lost your muthafuckin' mind, bitch?” Leroy's fist crashed against Maybelline's jaw. “Do I look like some punk muthafucka to you? Huh?” He switched up and hit her with a right hook.
Maybelline dragged her nails straight down his face, fuckin' up his shit forever.
He howled, but then delivered two more punches.
The gun shook in my hands. I felt like a human earthquake. What if I missed and he came after me?
“You just wanted all this good dick to yourself, didn't you, Peaches? You ain't got to worry about a damn thing. There's plenty of this good dick to go around.” He snatched open Maybelline's legs.
I couldn't take it anymore. I drew a deep breath, closed my eyes, and fired.
POP! POP!
“What the fuck?” Leroy roared.
POP! POP!
I peeled open my eyes to see Leroy jerk around as my bullets slammed into him. It looked so good that I couldn't stop firing.
POP! POP!
“Aaaaargh,” Maybelline yelled. “You shot me!”
I eased off the trigger. Leroy slumped over on the bed. His big golden eyes stared up at nothing while his dick remained rock hard.
It's that look that haunts me to this day....
 
My man parks the van in front of the house and kills the engine. Instead of us jumping out and getting to work, we just sit there—listening to the sounds in the surrounding woods. My nerves are humming so bad that I dive for the glove compartment for a cigarette.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I ignore the question until I put fire to the tip and suck in my nicotine fix. “Let's do this shit,” I say. I open the door and hop out of the van before he can ask me any more dumb-ass questions. The rain drenches me from head to toe. I stomp over leaves and broken tree branches. A tiny voice in the back of my head shouts that it's not too late for me to back out of this shit, but I laugh at that. Grabbing Maybelline was messier than I intended.
At the back of the van, my boo opens the door and reveals the rolled bloody carpet inside. I smile and puff out a long stream of smoke.
“Feel better?” he asks.
“I'm having an orgasm just standing here,” I tell him.
Smirking, he tosses the carpet over his shoulder as if the body tucked in it doesn't weigh shit. Strong niggas makes my clit hard.Who knows—I might keep his ass around.
Maybe.
Relationships aren't exactly my strong suit.
Drawing in another deep drag, I follow my man's steady march to the front door. I'm turned on by the young brothah, but I'm watching his ass. Like I said: I don't trust nobody. I toss the cigarette and smash it into the wet ground with my heel before entering the house.
We get through the front door and edge our way to the stairs leading to the full basement. The place is a mess, but who really gives a shit? It will serve its purpose. I hit the switch and watch the light flicker while it decides whether to stay on. A whiff of mildew-funk assaults us as we descend the creaking stairs.At the bottom, we fight our way through a maze of spiderwebs to the spare room with a warped wooden door.
The room is as big as a matchbox. Inside there's a single rollaway, a nightstand, and a wooden chair with one leg shorter than the others. There's also a window with iron bars.

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