Hustlin' Divas (26 page)

“W
here the fuck is this nigga?” I disconnect the call after I'm transferred to Python's voice mail. “I'm getting tired of this muthafucka's bullshit.” I toss the cell phone away from me onto the black leather couch. Lately, I don't know whether to be worried whether he's got clipped, jailed, or is still out fuckin' around on me. Yolanda, Melanie, Random Pussy—and he's fuckin' them all raw dawg and planting seeds. Meanwhile, I'm supposed to be the HBIC, and I ain't gave this nigga not one baby.

I take Beauty out of her tank and then go sit outside to try getting my mind right. Niggas are milling about, drinking, smoking, and talking shit. In a lot of ways, Shotgun Row is stuck in a time warp: old houses, old potholes, and a lot of overgrown grass. I'm both proud and sad to call this my home and my hood. In the distance, there's the unmistakable sound of police sirens and even a couple of gunshots.

Right now, I can't help but focus on my own problems. It's clear that my position in the Queen Gs is threatened. As I watch Beauty slither all around my arm and then up around my neck, I realize a bitch can't make a nigga be true. I used to know that, but when my ass caught feelings, shit blew up in my face. It's just this blatant disrespect that I can't handle. He used to be better about this shit, and I can't help but feel that all that I've worked for is about to go up in flames.

Fuck
.

Python's ass doesn't even bother creeping no more; he just straight up lets it be known when he's rolling over to that trick's new crib and practically dares me to say shit about it. Everything is happening so fast it has my head spinning. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but no way no how am I gonna let those muthafuckas roll. I vowed to never do that crying shit no more, and I'm nothing if not a woman of my word.

Up the block, I see Kookie come out of her house. I pray that she doesn't see, but sure enough she spots me and heads on down to interrupt my peace and quiet.

“Hey, girl,” she says, switching her way inside my gate. “What you know good? What you doin' out here alone on a Friday night?”

She automatically hands over the woolie she's smoking, and I don't waste a second pulling on that muthafucka. “Nothing, girl. Just chillin' and relaxin'.”

Kookie hikes up a brow and stares me down. “Waiting on your man?”

“Girl, don't start that shit with me tonight.”

“All I want to know is how you gonna let some
retarded
bitch just steal your nigga, especially some bitch everybody in the set has dug out at least once.”

“Including
your man,
” I remind her, and then take another hit. “I heard about McGiff and Tyga smashing her in the VIP.”

“But she ain't having
my
man's seed. That shit is on Python.”

“We don't know that.”

“
Yes, we do.
Python claiming that bastard all day every day. If you ask me, the muthafucka walking around like he found gold up her ass or something. The niggas ain't saying shit, but bitches are tripping.”

“Python loves
me
. He's gonna marry
me,
” I seethe. “I've worked too hard to get in this spot. I've done fought, robbed, and toe-tagged my share of niggas to maintain, and I ain't about to go out like no sucka on this. No fuckin' way.” I shake my head. I'm not going to go back to having nothing. I nibble on my bottom lip while the wheels slowly turn in my head.

Kookie laughs. “Marry you? These niggas don't be putting a ring on nothing no more. When was the last bitch in the set you heard got married? You, of all people, should know better than that. You're either a chicken head, a jump-off, or a wifey. That's it. These niggas nowadays only see preachers and judges when they serving a bid.”

“Get the fuck on. You don't know what the fuck you're talking about.”

“All right. A hard head makes a soft ass.” Kookie takes another toke.

My mind goes back to that night when Python told me that if I just kept playing my cards right, he was going to wife me. Hell, that night seems so long ago now. “Where did I go wrong?” I whisper.

“You ain't gave the nigga no babies,” Kookie says. Her words are like a knife twisting in my empty belly. “Y'all been together how long? Every bitch he's ever been with has dropped him off a couple of seeds. Those nappy-headed bastards are sprouting like weeds in Memphis. Please believe.”

“Yeah and those baby mommas ain't holding it down with him neither,” I snap. “
I'm
wifey.”

“True. Those other bitches cheated on him. Niggas don't forgive that shit for nothing—especially Python. Once he marks his territory, niggas know it's a death sentence to touch what's his. That's the main reason he yanked your ass out of the Pink Monkey and now Yo-Yo's stupid ass. There's a method to that nigga's madness. Of course, I think he moved Yo-Yo to protect her ass from you.”

“Smart man. That bitch ain't gonna be pregnant forever.” I continue to sit and think and then think and drink. The problem is that I don't have that many muthafuckin' options. I don't have any bargaining chips. Threatening to leave Python could result in him just holding the door while I walk out and Yo-Yo smiling when she walks in with my shit. I need Yo-Yo's trick ass out of the picture. Period.

“Tsk-tsk. Don't be so hard on yourself. Shit. Let's keep it real. Ain't no bitch come no harder than you. Shit. When you let that nigga dig that bullet out of your arm, a lot of bitches seriously respected your gangsta ass on that shit. It wouldn't have been my ass. I need someone with a degree cutting on me.” Kookie shakes her head. “I can't see too many bitches wanting to follow ole Lemonhead's ass nowhere, Python's main bitch or not. He can ride that short yellow bus by his damn self.”

“You're just saying that shit to cheer me up.” My lips twitch up into a smile as I pry Beauty from around my neck and let her curl around my arm again.

“Y'all and them fuckin' snakes.” Kookie eases back. “But, nah. For real, girl. Yo-Yo ain't never gonna be nobody.” Kookie's eyes lower while she gets good and fucked up. “Hell, I think her ass swings both ways. You saw how tore up she was at Baby Thug's funeral. McGriff says Python told him that she didn't get out of bed for like a week or some shit.”

I nod. “Yeah. I heard about that.”

“Fuck. Outside in her damn drawers, screaming and hollering ‘Baby, wait!'” Kookie yells, sounding just like Yolanda. “Ain't that some shit?” Kookie shakes her head. “Now don't get me wrong. Baby could eat the shit out of some pussy, but, damn, that soap-opera shit is ridiculous.”

I cock my head at my girl. “Now how do you know about…?”

Kookie tosses up her hands. “Don't ask me no questions and I won't tell you no lies.” She laughs. “What you need to do is calm down on this shit. Python is going to realize that you're the real gangsta bitch he needs to ride with. Trust.” Kookie laces a new blunt and takes her time rolling the shit up. “This shit right here is gonna hook you the fuck up.”

“Nah. I'm cool.” I jump to my feet and stomp my way to the bedroom, where I return Beauty to her tank. Kookie and I maneuver around piles of clothes, weight bars, and God knows what else littering the cramped room's floor. “I'm heading out to Da Club. Fuck this shit. Python wanna spend all his time on the creep, then I'm going out and shaking my ass, too.”

“Careful now. You don't wanna cause these niggas to catch cases just because you can't keep your man at home.”

My gaze cuts back to my girl.

“What? I love you, girl, but I'm just spitting the truth and you know it. Don't get mad—get even with the bitch.”

“Trust, if it wasn't for that fuckin' baby she's carrying, the po-po would've found her body floating in the Mississippi a long time ago. Python will have my head on a platter if I hurt his kid.” I yank out a black dress from the back of my closet. “It's time for me to remind Python what the fuck he's missing at home.”

Kookie shakes her head. “Please, that nigga is stressing you on purpose. No way he done caught feelings for that Ritalin-popping bitch. He's just fuckin' with you.”

My attention is piqued. “What do you mean?”

Kookie flicks her lighter until she catches a flame to blaze the end of her blunt. She tokes on it a few times and then passes the shit over to me. “Now, you know I ain't supposed to be repeating no shit that me and McGriff talk about in bed but…”

“But what?” I exhale a long stream of smoke. “Don't be holding out on me, bitch. If you know something, then spit the shit out.”

Kookie retrieves the blunt and takes another puff. “All right, but you didn't get the shit from me.”

“C'mon with it.”

“My boo says that Python looking at you suspect because of your sister.”

And there it was: the pink elephant that I have been trying my best to ignore. “Look, my sister ain't got shit to do with me. We're two separate bitches.”

“Maybe…maybe not.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, as the head bitch of the Queen Gs, you, at the very least, need to be able to control your peoples—especially your blood. Look what the fuck Python had to do with his own. He let the nigga walk away once with a public warning; the second time he fed that muthafucka to his damn snake.”

“Damien,” I whisper, and then shudder. It will be a cold day in hell before I forget that fucked-up shit, especially when niggas broke out their camera phones and snapped pictures like they were at Sea World or something.

“Check it,” Kookie goes on. “Fat Ace's brother is creeping with your sister. That makes it look like Fat Ace is making up ground on the Gangster Disciples and stealing niggas out of Python's backyard.”

I open my mouth only to be cut off.

“Whether it's true or not isn't the point. On these streets, appearances mean everything. Some of our little niggas at Morris High say your sister and Profit are always snuggled up all kissy face, and a few times that nigga has been seen sneaking into her damn bedroom down on midtown.”

“What?”

“Girl, don't act like you didn't know. Python has been scoping the situation out for a while.”

“Goddamn it, Ta'Shara.” The room spins while I try to take all this in. Why in the fuck am I the last to know about any of this shit? “McGriff told you all this?”

“Some of it. I pick up whisperings around the way, too.”

“Why didn't you tell me this shit sooner? You're supposed to be my girl.”

“Chile, I try to stay out of domestic shit. That's the fastest way niggas can get fucked up. Don't believe me? Ask Tyga's shot-up ass.” Kookie sucks some more on her fat blunt. “Look, I wouldn't be surprised if Ta'Shara's ass is a full-fledged Flower by now. That nigga got her nose sprung all the way open. Shit. Word is they even going to the prom.”

It's so much information that I have to sit the fuck down. “I told that bitch…” I suck in an angry breath and try to count to ten, but with each number I tick off, I only get angrier.

The front door of the house bangs open, letting me know that Python has finally found his way home. I roll my eyes, hoping he isn't just coming home to start no shit. Kookie hops up from the edge of the bed and makes a point to brush away any ashes that may have fallen onto the sheets.

“What the fuck y'all doing in here?” His narrowed gaze sweeps over us like he's just caught a couple of home invaders.

“Last I checked, I still lived in this muthafucka,” I bark.

“You know what? I'ma catch up with you later, girl,” Kookie says.

“Hold up.” I reach out and remove the blunt from Kookie's mouth. “I think I'ma need this shit.”

Not sticking around to argue, Kookie gets the fuck on, squeezing around Python at the bedroom door, since he makes it clear that his ass isn't about to move on his own. But once she's gone, his lips kick up into a smile. “What the hell is wrong with her scary ass?”

“Fuck her. Why didn't you come to me if you doubted how down I was for the set?”

Python's face twists. “Don't come at me with no gossiping bullshit.” He moves into the room, tugging his white T over his head.

“So you don't have a problem with me?”

“Why would I have a problem?”

“Oh, so we're playing mind games now?” I charge, and roll my eyes. “I thought we were above that petty bullshit?”

Python's face hardens while his upper lip twitches.

I study every inch of his ripped and tattooed body while he gets undressed. It's funny that once upon a time, I'd looked to this man as just a means to an end, and he still is in a way, but he definitely means more to me now—more than I want to really admit.

“What, you want me to fall all out and beg you to leave these bitches alone? Is that it? At the very least that retarded bitch, Yolanda.”

“She's not retarded.”

I quickly jump in his face. “What, you're going to defend her to me, nigga? Is that what the fuck you're about to do?”

“Go on now.” He pushes me away. “She's carrying my seed.”

I toss up my hands. “Her and how many other bitches? Who the fuck is Melanie?”

Python's face changes up, and I swear to God my heart drops. This bitch means something to him.

“See. You worried about the wrong muthafuckin' thing,” he says with so much bass I swear the floor is rumbling. “Melanie is Melanie. She's somebody who ain't got shit to do with you.”

I don't believe what the fuck I'm hearing.

Python's gaze snags on the dress in my hand just as he reaches for a fresh pair of black jeans. “Going somewhere?”