Hood Misfits, Volume 1 (17 page)

“I know you. You that special-ed, mute, bubba-gump nigga, Trigga. I got some shit for you,” he barked out. Gold flashed from his crooked teeth.

Nigga sounded like he smoked too many blunts and swallowed acid. His voice was both scratchy and deep. It annoyed me.

“Am I, nigga? If I am, think on why I would be hitting your fucked-up place? Smells like your sister's cunt for real, son. Ya needa handle all that.” I laughed, fanning flies that flew by.

“Man, fuck you! You played my sista,” he roared out.

I pointed my gun at the sloppy nigga in front of me. He was nothing but stank, rolled up in fat, and hot air with white eyes.

“Naw, she let herself get played—played in the ass, mouth, cunt, throat, armpit, probably her eye and ear too. I don't know, nigga, but your sister is foul, just like you, and like you 'bout to be. I'm going to have fun letting my gun make her my bitch. Feel me?”

“Yo, fuck yo' life, nigga!” Sasha's brother spat, charging at me.

I laughed and then shrugged. Guess I wasn't gonna get any fun out of him anyway, so I stayed where I was, watching him spit while he spoke, his saggy titties slapping through his stained beater as he rushed me. Shit was kinda funny to me. All I heard was
Slap, slap, slap
. Made me think of some thick pussy riding me. It kinda made me want to fuck for a moment.

My boot kicked out a table to push him back, and it took Big Jake to body-drop that nigga, just to hold him down. Nigga was built like a tank, but Big Jake was stronger.

Jake yelled out, “
Attenshhhunnnn
, you bonecrusher-ass nigga!”

Several rounds of emptying our Glocks took out that nigga. We left him right where he fell in the middle of the living room, surrounded by roaches and dog shit, and that was the end of Sasha's blood.

While we marked Sasha's place up for show, you know, just in case shit didn't pan out the way a nigga planned, we snatched up two of that nigga's goons who were also Sasha's cousins and dropped them in the back of the trunk of our ride.

Darkness from the sky was our friend. The streets seemed to be mad quiet for some reason, but it didn't bother me none. Matter of fact, it worked to our advantage, moving around like we were, as we headed to the drop-off spot with these bodies. Time seemed to tick off, but the way we moved quickly and professionally, everything fit in right on time.

 

 

Now we stood in the forest of Georgia. Blackout's cousins and their rides were behind us, and Pookie's cousin's ride parked opposite of it. Three niggas sat on their knees, bound and whining, their faces bloody.

Jake walked behind the lame-ass niggas to untie them. He moved smoothly but quickly. As he pointed his gun, a bullet from its barrel followed with him, leaving bodies to fall on each other like dominoes. We didn't have time to make this perfect, but we did have time to make it look like each nigga squeezed their own triggers at each other, so no
CSI
shit could pop off. That was our only moment of concern, to make it look good and not fake.

I buried each body, adding lime over each hole in the ground. Had to leave a couple niggas alive back around the block, just to make it look good too.

We had kicked in doors yelling Dame's name, along with me calling Jake Pookie, or him calling me Blackout.

Sweat soaked into my mask, and the muscles in my arms tightened with each shuffle then positioning of the bodies.

While we worked, our cells popped off, even my cracked cell phone.

“'Wassup, bossman. Yeah, we handled your business and 'bout to chill and eat, thinking about Laylah's. Got you some extra ducats, and no doubt we'll get those plantains you dig. A'ight.” Jake ended his call and looked at me.

“Nigga's eyes itching?” I asked.

Jake gave off a harsh laugh then emptied his gun. “Yeah. Hate that nigga.”

I switched out my gloves, walking back and forth, as I spoke. “Me too, man, trust that. Check it. These niggas are dust. I need you to be my eyes and take me to the Nigerian queen's messengers. Been checking her for some time now. I know, without a doubt, she fucks with Phenom, so I know if she sees that I want to talk to her she'll do it. So let's get back. All of this is set right, looks like turf shit. We can ride out and fix the GPS, a'ight.”

Jake gave a slight nod while taking off his mask. “I got you, man. We'll do that then I'll circle this shit around to Laylah's restaurant to make sure we look legit in our shit. ”

“Right, man, you on that same page then. Let's be about it. Yo, good look to pick Laylah's, since it's in Castleberry Hills near the NQ's crib,” I said, giving him dap.

We headed to drop the cars at a scrap yard, switching them out. Trackers were on everything Dame gave us. But because Jake knew about cars, Dame's eyes, and how to fix it, I now lay on my back under our car fixing the GPS and tracking systems. We had to cover our track while staying on time.

“A'ight, Trig. Let's get your message sent and be out. I need to get to Gina. If I lose her, if she loses that baby, you know that's gonna break Gina, man, and I'm not down for that. She ain't deserve this fuckin' life. If her momma had been good to her, she'd be okay now,” Jake said, pacing back and forth.

My hands worked fast, twisting on the GPS. As the familiar beep went off, I sighed, looking at nothing but the bottom of our ride.

“Yeah, I know, bro. A lot of stuff would have been different, but check it, you wouldn't have met her then.”

Jake's grunt then the loud ding of his foot kicking the bumper of our ride had me quickly sliding back out from under it.

“Whoa! Watch that shit, man. I'm just saying, wasn't no beef there.”

Jake fisted his big hands as he spoke to me. “I know. Look, let's just go. Not feeling talking about what coulda been, you know.”

He was right. The “what coulda beens” always made shit harder.

“A'ight. And we'll get some way for you to get alone with Gina. Bet?” I looked at Jake's shoulders drop before he ran a hand over his waves.

“Yeah, bet. You our leader. I trust that, man, even to the grave.” Jake walked up to me and gave me dap again.

Jake's time with Gina was his heaven, so I knew he was down when he gave a smile.

We hopped back into the Escalade and then made it to Laylah's, where I was able to send a message to the NQ on the low through Laylah herself. She owed me one from something I did for her. It was good to have resources that hated the same people we did and who actually respected us for what we did because, had we not learned about that nigga Dame, everything we did would be tricky.

Everything was in motion. I was the chaos that would bring the peace. My name wasn't Trigga without a reason, and the house of Dame was about to fall by my hand.

When I woke up, Dame was sitting in a chair at the foot of his bed. There was a bloody machete to his right and he held his gun in his left. I cursed God for not letting this nigga kill me while I was in that basement.

“Why you make me do this to you, Diamond?” Dame asked me, his voice deep and calm, his posture relaxed.

I tried to open my mouth, but my jaw felt like it had been wired shut. I knew it was swollen, and the pain I felt was almost unbearable.

“Why you make me put you in the basement? Huh?”

As my vision became clearer, I could see he was covered in blood. I swore I saw meat hanging off the blade of the machete, like he had just slaughtered an animal.

My mind immediately went to Gina.
Oh God, Gina.
I closed my eyes and groaned out. Tears burned as they fell down my face.
Lord, why?

A knock at Dame's door interruptd my thoughts.

“Enter,” he said.

Fallon and Guss, two other niggas who ran drugs for Dame, came in and tossed Gina's almost lifeless body at Dame's feet. She was bleeding badly, but I thanked God she was alive, although barely.

After they left out, Dame kicked Gina away from him like she was nothing more than trash. Cuts and gashes decorated her naked body and face. From the way she was whimpering, I knew what had happened to her again in the underworld.

“You know you're my diamond, right?” Dame said to me. “You made me leave you in that fuckin' basement so other niggas could fuck you, and then I had to dismember the niggas who touched you. You make me fuckin' crazy, Diamond. This is your fault.” His voice rose and then cracked like he was emotional.

I could tell from the ache between my legs what had happened to me, but I didn't want to think about it. I couldn't take my eyes off Gina. I didn't know what day it was or how long I had been unconscious, but I knew my body ached in places that it shouldn't have. So I could only imagine what Gina's body felt like. I was no doctor, but I knew she needed to get to a hospital. I was quite sure she had lost her baby because blood was still pouring from between her legs.

When Dame stood up, my eyes darted back and forth between him and Gina. I just wanted him to leave me alone. Wanted to be left by myself so I could check on Gina. Just wanted to not be where I was.

Anger instead of fear took over my senses. I was done. Sasha was officially a target. All I could think about was picking up something to smash that bitch's face in. I had to wonder if Big Jake or Trigga had heard about what happened, but knowing how gums in the house flapped, I was sure they had.

Another knock came to the door just as Dame had stood and walked over to the bed where I was. The machete was in his hand, and he looked like he was high, with his glossy eyes. I knew that look. It was the one he always had after playing in his own pure product.

“What?” he barked out at the door so loud, it made me jerk in surprise.

“Boss, Trigga and Big Jake pulling up to the gate fast, like some niggas after them or something,” Guss reported.

“Fuck you telling me for, nigga?”

“'Cuz word on the street is that some shit popped off with a turf war with our house and—”

“The fuck?” Dame shouted out, just as a loud crash and bang could be heard all around the house.

I could hear feet running and niggas screaming up the stairs that Trigga and Jake had just crashed through the front gates of Dame's crib.

“Get the guns,” Dame ordered as he rushed out of the room with Guss.

I could hear girls screaming and running.

“Get the fuck in your rooms!” Dame commanded, smacking one of the girls in the back of her head as she ran down the hall.

Once he was gone, I slowly dragged my body from the high bed, falling on the floor hard. I crawled past Gina and kicked the door closed. It would lock on its own with a push of the button on the wireless remote. I crawled against the cold marble floor until I got to Gina. My girl was bad, messed up to the point that she was missing teeth. Instead of crying tears, she was crying blood, and just by touching her, I could tell she was feverish.

“I'm so sorry, Gina,” I whispered as I held her head in my lap.

I hadn't known the girl for long, but I swore I loved her. When I didn't have anybody else, I had her. She took care of me like she had known me all her life. Her eyes fluttered like she was trying to open them, but she couldn't. They were swollen shut.

I pushed the matted, bloody hair from her face and rocked her in my arms. “Please don't die on me, Gina. Please. I ain't got nobody else, really. Please don't die.”

I mumbled that through my tears, but all Gina could do was try to squeeze my hands. I watched in utter defeat, knowing I couldn't do anything to save her, so I just rocked her while complete chaos surrounded us. I didn't know what was going on. As I gazed down at Gina, her lips moved, like she was trying to say something.

“I can't understand you,” I whispered to her as I leaned down.

She tried to speak, but all she could do was cough, swallow, cough again, then spit up blood. I saw my daddy and mama all over again. She kept moving her lips like a fish.

“Water? You want water?” I asked her.

She nodded very slowly. Then she winced and closed her eyes tight.

I grabbed the golden pillow from Dame's chair and placed it underneath her head. Yeah, it hurt me like fuck to move, but if she wanted water, I was going to get it. It gave me hope that she would live. As fast as I could, I moved from the floor and grabbed one of the glasses Dame used to drink his bourbon and tried to walk fast to the bathroom. I turned on the cold water and made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror.

My jaw looked like I was holding a golf ball in my right cheek. Eyes purple and bruised, it looked like some of my hair had been snatched out by the root. My lips were also cut, and skin was missing from my forehead from when Dame had slung me hair first into the concrete wall.

I looked away from my image. If I didn't get out of this life, it would kill my youth, just as it had stolen my innocence. I filled the glass with water and walked out, only to come to an abrupt stop. Gina had sat up. Well, she was sitting back on her knees. I knew she was looking at me because of the semi-smile she was trying to give me.

For a moment my heart swelled. She would live. There was hope.

She whispered, “Th-they killed m-my baby”—She swallowed slowly then moved her hands to her lap—“killed him . . . her…”

She was naked, and one of her breasts had been sliced open. Tears rolled down my face.

“Gina . . .”

“But . . . they won't . . . kill me.” She tried to smile again.

Just like before, I felt hope. I closed my eyes with a small smile.

“Tell Ja-Jackson I l-love him,” she muttered, making me open my eyes.

What I saw stopped my heart. There was a blade in her hand. She held that hand to her neck and sliced her throat from ear to ear.

A deafening scream leapt from my lungs as blood spewed from her neck, the glass crashed to the floor, and her body fell backwards. I kept screaming as I rushed to her side. My body shook like I had the chills.

I dropped to my knees, trying to stop the blood from spilling with my hands. I belted out, “Ahhh, God! Gina, no!” I was so terrified and out of my mind with grief, I didn't even hear Dame rushing into the room with Trigga and Big Jake in tow.

“What the fuck?” Dame shouted as he looked around. It didn't take him long to figure out what had happened. “Get this bitch up off my floor and call the fuckin' cleaners.” He grabbed me and pulled me from the room kicking and screaming.

I didn't know where he was taking me. To be honest, I didn't care. I'd just seen the only friend I had in the house slice her own throat. Gina was gone. Yeah, she had cut her own throat, taken her life, but I blamed Sasha. I blamed Dame. I blamed Pookie.

I caught a glimpse of Big Jake falling to his knees like a sack of potatoes next to Gina's lifeless body, his face contorted. I knew his pain was real because he didn't care who saw him cradle Gina like a baby in his arms as tears rolled down his handsome face. Gina had tamed the giant, brought out the beauty in the beast.

Trigga's hand on Big Jake's shoulder seemed to anchor him in his grief. Dame didn't see it because he was too busy threatening my life as he dragged me into another room.

 

 

Four hours later, the house was quiet. Dame's room had been cleaned to perfection. The gates to his mansion had been fixed. After he dragged me to his other room, he held a gun to my head and told me that if I screamed again he was going to bury me next to Gina. So I could only grieve through silent tears. After that, he showered when word was brought to him from the Nigerian queen's messengers that a meeting was being called.

 

The whole house sat around the dinner table as every street king and queen once again sat around Dame. Tension was thick.

Trigga's lip kept twitching. Big Jake was here, but his mind appeared to be somewhere else, his face emotionless. Sasha sat at my right side by Dame dressed in Gina's favorite color, bubblegum pink. That bitch was trying to be funny.

I walked down the stairs in all red—red spandex shorts that showcased my ass, matching sports bra, and red Jordans—my hair brushed back into a ponytail. Did the best I could with it, worked through the pain. The bang covered the big scar on my forehead. My jaw was still swollen, but I could talk a little better.

Dame's eyes were burning another hole in the side of my head because I wasn't supposed to show my face. He had told me to stay in the room, because he didn't want the Nigerian Queens, especially Anika, to see my face. Fuck him. I wanted like hell for him to say something to me that I didn't like. The whole room got quiet when I limped in.

See, while I was up in the room, Dame had tried to lock me in, but my daddy came to talk to me. Dame had left out some coke.

“Sniff some of that shit, and it will take the pain away, baby girl,”
my daddy said.
“Yeah, it's fucked up for me to tell you this, but you gon' need it. You wanna beat a ho ass, don't you?”

I looked up slowly as I sat in the center of Dame's bed trembling with anger and fear, my daddy standing right there in his usual getup—fresh white Jordans, designer jeans, and a designer button-down. There was no bullet holes in him.

I nodded.

“Then line that shit up and take it to the head,”
he said.

“I don't really know how, Daddy.”

I did as he said.

I grabbed that mirror that Dame always used and sat it on the table in front of the bed.

I did just like my daddy said. Sniffed all four lines through the rolled-up dollar bill then dropped my head back to sniff back the snot that was trying to fall down. I felt when my daddy sat on the bed next to me.

I nodded and did exactly as he'd directed, and sure enough, I didn't feel shit.

That's why I was sitting next to Dame, staring Anika right in her eyes as she gazed at me. I couldn't tell what that look was in her eyes, but as usual, she kept a knowing smile on her face. Still, I couldn't shake that feeling that something else was going on that she wasn't telling. I knew she was cool with Dame, so if she wanted to start some shit, she could get it too.