Hood Misfits, Volume 1 (19 page)

“Because that nigga was my fam,” he said, “and you are my nephew and blood. Been looking for you for years. Call me Phenom.”

His accent quickly disappeared into a Brooklyn swag. Nigga sounded just like my pops through and through. No fuckin' way! I kept my gun leveled on me because shit felt like games being played.

“Yeah, the fuck right! This some game? Get me, Phenom,” I urged, keeping my back to the mirrors as I watched him.

“My nigga, let's cut all this shit at the pass. You been lookin' for me, and I've been lookin' for you. I promised your pops back on the block that we'd always look out for each other. Fam first. Nigga was just like you. He was Battle, and I was Phenom. Came to the
A
to follow my sister to school. Me, I went overseas.”

He paused to watch me. “So you comin' to me for what, nephew? Guns? Because I can give you that and then some, as your right. Put the shit away because, like on some real shit, I could have taken you out in the parking lot. That trigga shit ya got from me and ya pops, so chill and speak. Chaos is order, and order is chaos—this is the way of the street.”

Phenom kicked a chair my way and then leaned back watching me, rubbing his goatee.

I was on some other shit at what he just spat. Code from my pops. No one knew that shit but him. This nigga's name was all through ma pops' and moms' words, telling me to trust this dude. The code next to it, and now this dude is in the flesh. The legend of the streets? Damn. I had a fuckin' uncle? Blood? Blood that had been looking for me? Blood that was one of the baddest niggas in the game? Yo, shit was dope. I woulda stood there longer just pondering that shit, but a nigga really didn't have time. Who knew what the fuck that nigga Dame was back at the house doing to Diamond?

I took a seat and hit the man with what I needed and what was going down. “Check it then.” I dropped my hood back and rested my arm on the back of my chair, keeping my eye on this cat who called himself my uncle.

Yeah, he knew the code, but I been on the streets for a long time without this dude, so it was going to take more than him spitting out my background for me to trust him all the way. But he could for damn sure help a nigga, since he was willing.

“Ya already know then that I'm that nigga Dame's hand. So, shit, this nigga is going crazy. Like seeing dead people and talking to shadows and shit. Nigga been fuckin' up his money, fuckin' out the house, some of us are done. I got names of who need protection, and I got names of people I plan on popping. You can have that shit and do me honor, and I'll do our family honor. Been following my lessons through that knowledge Pops and Moms gave me in their books.”

Phenom snuffed out his cigar, nodding. “Street code books. Your pops Battle and I created that back on the block, using the words we picked up from our teachers on the street. Feel me? Anyway, a'ight. So what you need?”

We dropped into deep discussion, formulating plans. He let me know what areas would hold me down, and what areas that will come for me and my fam once Dame goes down. I had thought some gangs would come after us once we ended Dame, but Phenom quickly schooled me on that. Dame's hand was never as strong as he thought.

I schooled him on some of the things I went through, talked to him about Big Jake then told him about Gina. Talking about Gina made him bow his head as if he knew her, and that move alone let me know how much he had been watching me. The rest of what I told him, he already knew, except for what I needed.

“How you know this shit? And who is that Nigerian queen to you?” I had to ask.

Phenom had me walking through his shop, taking me underground to his offices after I had told him what I needed. We walked by some of his crew. Some faces I knew from the block, some from other boss lords.

“I know what I know because I've been looking for you since our fam was taken out. Got word overseas about what went down, pulled up my old contacts, started my business back up, and then came to the
A
. I set this up as a cover while I looked for you, but I lost you in the system so I stayed around waiting and taking out DOA, and leaving the rest for you.

“Anika is my woman. She does her, and I do me, but that's mine. That's why she's down for you, and 'cuz she respects ya work and that you and your new fam been protecting her niece.”

“Damn! Really?”

I glanced and saw some major senators and people who worked for the mayor of ATL on monitors.

Phenom continued guiding me through his spot, stopping to hand me a bag. “No doubt, nephew. Remember national consciousness?” He turned to look my way.

I nodded, and we both spat out at the same time, “Consciousness is awareness that we are all one, no matter where we are, and we must work and struggle as one to liberate ourselves from the domination of the outside world and bring in a universal government of love, peace, and happiness for all.”

Phenom smiled wide, showing his dimples. I was mind blown. Dude was dope.

“Now listen. What ya asked for is in there, passports, accounts, and money. I got ya tickets, but I switched the location. I got people around the world, know what I mean? And now they are yours. Sending you and your fam to London, then to Nigeria, once you finish your shit. We'll stay in contact, and from there, you got a choice. Your pops didn't want this shit for you. I didn't either, but we fall into the game however we can. It's up to you on how you make it work for you through legit means or not. I promised ya mom, after ya sister was gunned down, that I'd protect you, and I will even in the grave. And I promised ya pops that I'd school you. You've done the rest. I only got a little to help you with in schooling you, but we'll talk about that later when I meet you overseas. You got power, nephew. Do what you gotta do.”

My uncle's words hit me with clarity. It hurt to think about my fam, but for them, I lived to get this vengeance. See, this was for my baby sister Assata, who was gunned down by DOA members trying to take out my pops as she played in the park. She was only five. This was for my mom and pops after they finally got their hands on them, and for me. Now this was also for my uncle. Power was bond. I slung the black bag he gave me over my shoulder then gave my uncle daps.

“That nigga don't know shit about being a boss. He's just a nigglet playing with his toys. Be about that life and return what he has put out into our community,” Phenom schooled.

I gave a nod, looking around my uncle's underground operation. “That nigga is chaos, and I'm the order. Thanks, fam.”

Walking out into the night, I pushed back my locks then pulled my hoodie over my head and got back in my car. Dropping off what I was just gifted to the safe house was the next stop, and then killing that nigga Dame was the endgame. Nigga was about to be that motto he called himself living—DOA—and I had Diamond, who he called his property, to get at.

“Big Jake, was that Pookie you were just talking to?”

I stuck my head outside of Dame's bedroom door. I was hot and sweating, so I was naked as fuck. But I didn't care. At this point, all the caring I had in my heart had left when I saw Gina take that blade across her neck. Anytime I closed my eyes, I saw her body falling backwards as blood spurted from her neck like a geyser.

Big Jake looked at me wide-eyed then turned away at the sight of my underage naked goodness. I walked up to him as he sat slumped over in the chair by the door.

“Ray-Ray, you need to go back in the room,” he said.

“Nope. Was that Pookie?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that was that pussy-nigga.”

“I'll be back.”

He grabbed my arm and stood. His big ass towered over me like a brick wall. “Wait a minute, shawty. Where you going?”

“To handle something. Trust me, it won't take long.”

His dark chocolate eyes watched me like he wasn't sure that I should have been going anywhere alone. And, to be honest, I probably did look frail and weak. If I hadn't been high out of my mind, I probably would have felt it too. But the only thing I felt was vindictive, murderous even. Something fragile in me snapped when Gina died. I may have even lost my grip on reality. I'd been through so much in such a short time that I ain't even think I was sane.

“A'ight, you got five minutes. After that, I'm coming to get you.”

I didn't say anything, just took off running in the direction I'd seen that nigga Pookie go. Nothing in me told me I was making a mistake, that I was just precious moments away from death's door. So when I spotted him in the corner of Dame's weight room jawing on the phone, telling somebody to catch Trigga once he came back through the gates, I didn't hesitate to let my presence be known.

Dame's weight room looked every bit as high-tech as the most modernly designed gym. Pookie was standing in the corner under the 50-inch flat-screen TV.

“What's up, Pookie?” I asked him, my voice laced with venom.

He turned around with a quick jerk. Then surprise registered across his features. Where Gina had sliced his face was still red and swollen with stitches. Now both sides of his face matched with cuts. She had cut his ass good, from the corner of his left eye all the way down to the corner of his mouth. He looked as if he had a Sicilian smile.

His annoyingly scratchy voice asked me, “Damn, bitch! You just gon' come to nigga pussy out, ready to fuck, huh.”

I didn't have time to be making conversation with the nigga, so I crossed the room and walked up on him. I grabbed his dick in my hand and stroked it through his jeans, making him think he was about to get some pussy. He smelled like he had been smoking weed and running through a field of wild onions.

Yeah, a bitch was just about out of her mind, but I was focused. Even when his cold hands came out to grab my titties I didn't flinch. I kept my game face on, skinning and grinning in that nigga's face like his piece of dick was really what I wanted.

I opened my legs just enough to fool the dumb muthafucka into thinking he was really about to get some cut. He was so busy focused on sliding his hand between my legs, he didn't see the knife in my right hand.

I brought it around and stuck him right in his neck. “That's for Gina, you pussy-nigga!” I cried out then stuck him again.

I always heard my daddy talking about having niggas bleeding like a stuck pig. I guess this was what he meant. As he stumbled back into the wall grabbing his neck, I stuck him again, this time in his chest, but my knife got stuck.

Trigga had given me that knife just as he'd passed me off to Big Jake. I tried to pull it out that nigga's shoulder, but it wouldn't budge.

Pookie gained his bearings then shoved me back so hard, I rolled over my head and landed hard against a steel weight bench. “Stupid bitch! You gon' die tonight, ho,” he growled out as he ran at me.

His words were gargled, sounded like blood was stuck in his throat. The knife was still in his chest, and blood spewed from him, but he came at me so fast that it scared me.

I kicked my feet out to stop him, landing a blow to his groin. It slowed him down, but not enough for me to get away. I tried anyway. Made the mistake of turning over on my stomach to try to stand, and he got on my back, pinning me down to the floor.

He grabbed a handful of my hair and slammed my forehead into the floor, dizzying me, but not knocking me out.

“Uh, huh, I'ma show yo' ass what a real dick feel like inside of that monkey. A nigga been wanting to hit this shit for a minute anyway.”

I could tell he was having a hard time breathing because of the wounds I'd inflicted, but I hated myself for not aiming high enough to end his life immediately. I was already naked, so it was nothing for him to slip about two of his fingers up my ass, his nails scratching and tearing my rectum on the way in.

I screamed out at that invasion. Not even Dame had violated that part of my body. Pookie kept shoving his fingers up my rectum then abruptly stopped. I could hear his belt buckle clinking as he pushed my head down to the floor as hard as he could. The shit hurt worse than any pain I'd experienced vaginally, but I was preparing myself for what I knew he would try to do next.

 

 

Even in Gina's death she looked out for me. She had been inside of that house so long that she said she often felt as if it was a prison. That's why she knew how to make weapons out of about almost anything. Before she'd died and on one of those days when Dame had left us locked in his room, she showed me how to make a blade with a cheap toothbrush, Saran Wrap, and fire.

“Wrap the plastic 'round the bristles real tight, Ray-Ray. You gotta make sure you do it good, so the shit won't melt off when the flames hit it.”

I sat on my knees inside of Dame's closet while she sat lotus-style and watched me.

“Wrap it about a good ten, fifteen times then take the lighter and melt the plastic onto the bristles. Then take that brick right there and grind each side down like if you're sharpening a knife. Do it 'til the side with the bristles get sharp on both ends.”

As I sat there doing what she said, she hummed and rocked back and forth. Her eyes would wander, and she would often use the base of her hand to beat herself in the side of the head mumbling that she had to get out of this place. Yeah, she was a bit off in the head, but she knew how to survive. That was why I knew how to insert the homemade blade inside of my pussy.

I knew Pookie could probably overpower me and that the first thing he would do was try to rape me. So it was no surprise when he tried to ram his dick up my pussy that he let out a yell that turned him into the bitch he was.

He fell back against the same weight bench I'd fallen against. Only, he picked himself up holding his bloody dick in his hand, legs kicking out, as sweat raced down his face.

I quickly turned over, opened my legs, and slowly but surely pulled the handle of the blade from my pussy, careful not to slice myself.

Once I did, I jumped up and charged him like a maniac. I sliced at his face over and over again. I may not have known how to use a knife, but the blade was my friend. As I sliced his face, nose, neck, and chest open, he threw his hands up not sure whether to hold his dick or try to keep me from gutting his ass like a fish.

In my blind rage and fury I saw I had sliced his chest open, and the shit was looking like Zorro had been there. I sliced until my arms were burning. I could hear somebody coming down the hall, but I needed to make sure this nigga was dead.

I moved over to the fifty-pound barbells sitting next to the wall. As Pookie lay groaning, his arms limp at his side, I struggled to pick up the weight, but I got it. Then I moved back over and stood over him, raised the barbell as high above my head as I could, then brought it down on the nigga's face. His shit split like a hard-boiled egg that had been cracked. That wasn't good enough for me, though; I brought it over my head again and repeated the process.

“What the fuck, Ray-Ray?” I heard Big Jake call behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder then dropped the heavy weight on Pookie's chest. “Told you it wouldn't take long,” was all I said as I turned and walked past him.

I had never killed anyone before, but killing Pookie gave me sick satisfaction. Was that what Dame or Trigga felt like when they killed people? My heart beat slow in my chest, felt like the walls were closing in on me, spinning me around.

I stumbled down the hall, legs feeling as if they were about to give out on me. Flashes of Gina slicing her throat turned my stomach. I stopped to hold the wall. Pookie's brains leaking from his skull made vomit rise in my throat, and I threw up all over my feet.

A pair of arms that I almost didn't recognize picked me up. I could tell by the way my body molded into his chest who it was. Trigga had been the only nigga to pick me up or hold me. I immediately melted into his hold. It had always been that way since day one.

I was covered in blood, probably smelled like I didn't know what after having that nigga Pookie on me, but Trigga carried me to Dame's room anyway. Big Jake whispered something in his ear then ran back down the hall to where I had left Pookie. I didn't know where that big nigga had gotten a gas can from or what he was going to do with it, but him and Trigga were on a mission.

Once in Dame's room, Trigga dropped me on the bed then crawled in with me, caging me between his arms. I looked up into his eyes. He looked to be in killer mode, ready to end life. I didn't know where he had gone or what had been said to him, but cold hatred and evil danced across his features.

“We leaving here tonight dead or alive, li'l shawty,” he said, his voice cold. “Understand?”

After watching Gina kill herself and smashing Pookie's brains in, I felt cold, like all my innocence had left me.

That crazy part of me that took over at times made me wrap my arms around Trigga's neck and nod. My breath probably smelled like hot slop, since I had just vomited in the hall.

“Dead or alive, I'm your Bonnie, you're my Clyde.” I actually giggled after I said that lame shit. Maybe I was still geeked up.

Trigga didn't flinch though. He didn't even seem to care that I was naked. After he moved my hands and placed them above my head, he reached down into his pants and then placed a small gun in my left hand and another in my right.

“I ain't gon' tell you what to do with these because, when the time comes, you gon' know,” he said. “I need to know you're really loyal to what the fuck is about to go down. Shit's about to change in a matter of minutes. Feel me, li'l shawty? And a nigga need to know that Dame ain't in your dome.” He tapped a finger against his temple.

“Why you even asking me this? I told you what it was. You see me doing my part, so what the fuck you asking me this for? You planning to leave without me or something, nigga?”

I asked that with an all-new terror. I'd never thought about the fact that maybe Trigga was never going to take me out of here with him in the first place. My heart started to pound against my chest. My eyes gazed up at him with a new coat of fresh tears that had nothing to do with the high I was on. He was silent, too silent for my liking.

“Well, fuck you too! I don't need you to help me get out. I'll get the fuck out on my own. Fuck you, Trigga! You made me do all this shit just so you can fuckin' leave me here?”

When he still didn't respond, only stared down at me like he couldn't care less, I reached out and smacked him with as much strength as I could muster, but he didn't look like the hit fazed him at all. Didn't matter, I was livid. This nigga was going to leave me. He wasn't about his fuckin' word.

Fear of having to live in that house for another moment replaced common sense for a minute, and I lashed out at him again. Only, this time he grabbed both my wrists.

“Chill the fuck out and calm down. One, don't ever put your fuckin' hands in my face again, two, actions speak louder than words. I need to see if you true to this, need to see that you taking serious what we doing.”

I didn't know what to say for a minute. What else could I do to make him see that I wasn't on some bitch shit? “What you want me to do, Trigga . . . short of killing myself? Anything else, I'll do.”

He moved my legs apart and lay between my thighs. If I said having him that close like that to me didn't make me feel some type of way, I'd be lying. Yeah, Dame had pretty much fucked up the good parts of sex for me, but maybe if me and Trigga made it out this place alive, he could help me to try it all over again.