I Use To Love You: A Hood Chick's Revenge (5 page)

BOOK: I Use To Love You: A Hood Chick's Revenge
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“You nasty bitch!” I screamed as I grabbed her by her head and slammed it backwards on the wooden floor. I pulled my pants up and crawled as fast as I could.

About the time I swung my strap around to shoot, that freaky amazon bitch was slowly climbing to her feet. She screamed at the top of her lungs as I unloaded the clip in her ass. The silencer made the bullets sound like I was firing off darts. She looked like she was doing some type of dance every time she got hit. She stumbled in my direction and then fell to the floor face first. I slid a butcher knife out of the wooden holder and stabbed her through the back of her neck.

“Tell the devil what my pussy tastes like, bitch.” I spit on her before turning one of the knocked over chairs upright and sat down on it. I needed to catch my breath. I sat there staring at her dead body thinking about how many more muthafuckas were going to die before I got to Ivan and Kim K.

Chapter 7
  
 

 

It took me over an hour to drag that long and heavy amazon bitch down into the basement. Even after shooting her multiple times and stabbing her through the neck, I still enjoyed making her head bounce off every step. I left her lying on the cool basement floor behind the water heater and some pipes.
Rest In Piss bitch.
I went back upstairs and cleaned up blood, shell casings, and everything that got knocked around during our scuffle. Once I was satisfied that there was no evidence of a crime scene, I lit some candles in the upstairs bathroom, put on my future husband Trey Songs, and soaked my ass in the bathtub until the water got cold.

I don’t know what hurt more as I laid in there with my eyes closed and my reloaded strap resting on the ledge of the bathtub. My heart, throat, and pride were all bruised and battered. But I took the time to plot my next move. As badly as I wanted to hunt down Ivan and Kim K., I needed to get rid of the Escalade and stash the book bags full of dope. All it takes is one mistake to get jammed up in the streets.

I put enough make-up on my neck to hide the bruises the amazon freaky bitch left behind. I got dressed in a pink and black Nike sweat suit and some matching Air Max. I had to stay looking cute but I also wanted to be comfortable enough to beat somebody’s ass. It was completely dark outside when I parked the Escalade in the alley next to the garage. Which worked out perfectly as I made trips back and forth with loads of my clothes. As much as I hated the idea, I knew I could never come back to the house again. There was a tall African looking bitch stanking up the basement. And too many muthafuckas would know where to find me.

Before I drove off I took a long look at the only place that ever really felt like home. Ivan had given me the only stability I’d ever known. Then in a blink of an eye, his punk ass snatched it from me. He gave my life to the bitch that was supposed to be my best friend. I shed a couple of tears as I started the truck’s engine. Both of them muthafuckas were going to pay for their betrayal. I drove away betting my life on it.

 

After I rented a storage unit to stash the dope in, my next destination was this chop shop on the south side of the Mil. It was owned by this Puerto Rican cat, Pido. I knew he would be ready to bust a nut in his pants, the moment I rolled up in that big boy. Which worked out for me because I needed to get the hot muthafucka off for as much ash as possible.

Pido was a businessman who wouldn’t ask any questions. And I could trust him not to take sides between me and Ivan if it came down to it. If anything I would probably have the upper hand. Ivan was so arrogant when it came to the spell he had me under, either he never noticed the way Pido looked at me or he just didn’t give a fuck. Every nigga we rubbed shoulders with in the streets looked at me as if they would give up their last just to try it once. Ivan was the only muthafucka that had forgotten I was the baddest of bad bitches. Something he was about to be quickly reminded of.

 

Pido was waiting on me when I pulled inside the front of his garage that served as a mechanic and quick lube shop. The legitimate part of his operation that covered for how he made his real money in the back. He opened the door and helped me out of the Escalade.

“This is the first time I ever saw someone make a brand new Escalade look good.” His eyes roamed all over me, obviously happy to see me without Ivan around. I smiled and batted my eyes flirtatiously. “I was surprised when I got a call from you instead of Ivan.”

I looked over at a couple of mechanics who were working on different whips on the other side of the shop. Even though they were too busy to pay us any attention. I leaned a little closer to Pido as if it was only for his ears. I wanted him feeling special enough to cater to all of my needs.

“Ivan left me for another bitch.”

“Are you bullshittin me Phat Kat?”

I struck a pose with my hand on my hip and my Marc Jacob bag firmly gripped in the other.

“I’ve always been about business and ain’t shit changed.”

Pido shook his head in disbelief as he continued to let his eyes roam over every inch of me. He was tall and skinny with bad skin and an even worse case of acne. He would never have a chance to get a shot of this pussy. I never had a thing for ugly boys, not even the ones who were getting major paper. However, Pido kept shit real by always honoring his word and coming through with whatever the customer needed. Those were qualities you didn’t run across in cats who play the streets too often.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect Phat Kat,” he said shaking his head. “Ivan is one of the sharpest niggas I ever met. I guess I just don’t understand what more he could want in a chick.”

“Awww. That’s sweet, Pido.” I batted my eyes and smiled even harder. “But fuck that nigga Ivan. He’s going to find out soon enough how much of a mistake he made. I came here to find out how much this Escalade is worth to you and I’m goin’ to need another whip.”

“Well let’s go get down to business then.” Pido walked over and pressed a green button on a metal socket and waited for the garage door to raise that separated his mechanic shop from his chop shop. As soon as the door was completely raised, one of his many Puerto Rican workers hurried out and drove the Escalade into the chop shop.

I followed him through his shop with sparks flying off blow torches and a bunch of hammering drilling going on. I caught more than my fair share of looks and some even stopped what they were doing altogether. Obviously they weren’t use to seeing bad bitches like me in the back of that chop shop.

Pido led me to three whips with covers over them.

“I got a Malibu, LaCrosse, and a Charger with the item.” He pulled the cover off each one as he called them out.

The Malibu and LaCrosse would’ve been dependable transportation and they would’ve attracted the least amount of attention. I also thought about how I might find myself in some tight situations where I might need to get on some Drake shit, and go from 0 to 100.

“What’s up with the Charger?”

“This is definitely your style Phat Kat.” He walked over to the black Charger with white interior and ran his hand over the hood. “It’s three years old with only thirty thousand original miles on it. And it will definitely get you to where you trying to go a lot quicker than the other two.” He opened the driver side door and extended his hand as he was ushering me inside.

“How much are you goin to tax me?” I settled into the white leather. When I noticed a key in the ignition I turned it over. The hum of the powerful engine under the hood got my pussy a little wet.

“All of the numbers are straight and the title and registration are in the glove compartment,” Pido said.

I looked up at him and hit his ugly ass with the most seductive smile I could come up with. I batted my naturally long and curly eyelashes and eve licked my lips a little bit. He ran his fingers through his curly philly fro before he leaned a little closer with one arm on the car door and the other on the hood. I braced myself because I knew what this muthafucka was thinking.

“If you let me spend a little time with you I’m sure we can work something out,” he said with one of the silliest grins I’d ever seen.

“You still haven’t told me a price, Pido. I’ve got other business to take care of,” I said with more of an attitude than I really had. “If you quote me something reasonable I might let you take me out to dinner.”

“Alright, I tell you what.” He swallowed hard. “I’ll give you twenty g’s for the Escalade and charge you ten for the Charger.”

I thought about it for a few moments.
Ten stacks and a Charger for that hot ass Escalade.
“I think I can work with that.” I flashed his ass another smile and shook his hand.

 

About thirty minutes later I drove out of Pido’s shop in the Charger with ten thousand more dollars in my Marc Jacob bag. I stopped at a T-Mobile store owned and operated by some Cubans, only a couple of blocks over. The Latinos had the south side on lock. They owned the majority of the businesses in their neighborhoods and they kept their cash flowing amongst each other. Their sense of unity had always been fly to me.

They weren’t trippin about the Samsung Galaxy 5 I’d taken from Hector being hot and even gave me a credit towards the iPhone 6 plus I bought from them. Once it was activated I walked out of the store relieved that the only thing left to connect me with Hector’s suck ass was the dope and jewelry. And with all of the muthafuckas I knew in the streets, the dope would sell itself.

 

After checking into the Brookfield Sheraton, just outside of Milwaukee County, I slept for the next twelve hours. When I did awake, I ordered room service, stuffed my muthafuckin face, and slept some more. Once I woke up the second time, the sun was on the verge of closing shop for the day. I sparked some more the Indigo Gold to get my mind right, ordered some more room service, and hopped in the shower. It was time to get back on my job. I had a triflin ass nigga and a white bitch to hunt down.

 

I sat and watched the boogie little bitch from the parking lot across the street. I could see her running her mouth on the telephone behind the counter through the large glass windows on the rental car business. Adrienne was Ivan’s inside plug and got him any rental car they had. If he didn’t have any stolen identification to use, Adrienne would put the rental under another customer’s name that was already in their computer.

It was real convenient when we needed a car for a lick we had up. The only problem I ever had with any of it was that I always had the feeling that Adrienne, the car rental tramp bitch, was fucking Ivan. A gut feeling I first got when I went along with Ivan to get a rental and she couldn’t even look me in the eye. But that wasn’t the reason I was stalking the bitch. I was positive that Ivan and Kim came to get a rental after their flight landed. The only whip Ivan owned was the white Vette he was driving the night we met. He considered that his old school trophy and only pulled it out on whatever he felt was a special occasion.

He always preferred to keep flipping rentals, whether we were on a lick or not. I got out of the Charger hoping that whoever’s info he used this time would lead me straight to his punk ass. It was ten minutes to nine as I crossed Wells Street. There was no shopping, clubbing, or grubbing going on in the part of the downtown I was in. And all of the tall ass buildings and skyscrapers I was surrounded by were finished doing business for the day.

The area was still lit up and the traffic was still flowing. This is why I was rocking the Denver Bronco fitted real low over a blond wig, with some Marc Jacob shades on. I also wanted to make sure any cameras around didn’t record a bitch’s true identity.

“Um, we’re just about to close ma’am. But we open at 9 am, so you’ll probably want to come back then.” Adrienne went back to running her mouth on the phone until she noticed I was still approaching the counter.

“Um ma’am? Did you hear what I said? We’re closed in less than ten minutes.” She told whoever she was chopping it up with on the phone that she would call them back.

“Ma’am, you’re going to have to leave. I forgot to lock the doors…” Her voice trailed off when I shoved the 9mm in her face.

“That was yo fault bitch. Now shut up and listen.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. We don’t keep much cash here because most of the transactions –”

I leaned a little farther across the counter and shoved my strap into her chest. “Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?”

She nodded her head real fast. Adrienne was a pretty high yellow bitch with natural long silky hair and real green eyes.
Just how Ivan likes it
. The thought pissed me off even more.

“Fuck some money. I need to know whose name Ivan’s rental is under.”

Her green eyes got wide and her mouth dropped open. I don’t know if she was able to remember who I was in the fitted, shades, and wig. But at that point it didn’t matter.

“What the fuck are you waiting on? Bitch, get to typing!” I pressed my strap into her chest when she shook her head. “If you even think about lying I’ma blow a hole in you bigger than that monitor. I know Ivan got a rental within the last few days. Now get to typing bitch.”

She nodded her head and her fingers got to flying across the keyboard in front of her. I tucked the strap back into the pocket of my sweat pants and quickly made my way around the counter. I wasn’t dressed in a black polo shirt with the company logo on it or a tan khaki knee length skirt and black flats like she was. But I figured I would look less suspicious to any cars passing by on Wells Street if I was standing on the side of the counter, rather than reaching across it with a strap in my hand.

“Write down the name and address.”

Adrienne quickly wrote down everything I needed on a small note pad and ripped off the paper and handed it to me. I waited until there was another break in traffic before I pushed the bitch down onto the linoleum floor.

“Are you fuckin Ivan?” I asked as I pointed the nine millimeter at her chest. My aim was low enough so anybody passing by would not be able to see what I was doing.

“Please, please. Don’t shoot me. Please.” She was crying and shielding her face with the palm of her hand as if that was going to stop a bullet.

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