King Divas (21 page)

I
wake up screaming. The pain in my leg is excruciating. I fight like hell to move it, and then when I realize that maybe I shouldn't, the pain gets worse. Soon the screaming and crying uses up my energy and my lungs start burning. I swear, if that damn Adaryl isn't already dead, I'm going to fucking kill that damn bitch. Closing my eyes, I tell myself to rest for a few minutes. Instead I nod off. When I wake the second time, it's to the sound of GG's panicked voice calling out to me.

“Qiana? Can you hear me? Say something if you can hear me.”

The most I can do is groan.

“Oh, thank God,” she pants, relieved.

Mentally, I struggle to pull it together. “My-my leg is stuck,” I say. “Can you help me move it?”

“Hold on.”

She moves around outside of the vehicle, and then nothing. “Hello? GG, are you still there? Hello?”

She latches hold of my foot and another scream rips from my soul. Mercifully, it only lasts for a minute and I'm able to breathe again.

“Can you move now?” GG asks.

I'm certain I can't, but try anyway. Surprisingly, I'm able to move an inch—and then another one. Within seconds, hope reignites and I'm able to pull myself through the shattered window.

A thunderclap booms as I crawl into a field of muddy grass. GG rushes to my aid and tugs me the rest of the way. I glance back over my shoulder to see the car sitting on its roof. “Damn.” I look around. “Where's Adaryl and Li'l Bit?”

GG clamps her mouth tight and shakes her head.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?
I swipe a hand across my brow and notice the scrapes and gashes across my arms and hands.

“They're dead,” GG croaks. “Both of them.”

“What? Are you sure?” I stare back at the car again and spot Adaryl's mangled body in the front seat. She must've been what had my foot trapped in the front of the car. A few feet away from the car, lying in a disjointed heap, is Li'l Bit. Her dead, sightless eyes staring up toward the graying sky.

“What the hell happened?” GG asks. “Who the fuck was shooting in the car?”

The argument replays inside my head, but I'm not taking the blame for this shit. “Adaryl fired first,” I say, which isn't a lie. “She got cold feet about the plan and started tripping.”

“Goddamn it,” GG swears under her breath. No doubt, she regrets getting herself involved in my shit now.

“What are we going to do now?”

She shakes her head. “I don't know. Let me think.”

I look at her, ready to hang on her every word. I have no clue what to do other than eat a damn bullet my damn self or wait for LeShelle to do whatever the fuck she's going to do. I'm almost past fucking caring.

A car speeds past on top of the embankment. Sooner or later someone is going to spot us and stop or call for help. The same thought must've crossed GG's mind.

“Okay. Let's get you out of here. There's nothing that we can do for your friends now.” She squats down beside me. “Can you stand?”

I look at my foot with doubt, but I have to try.

GG helps me up. I place nearly all my weight on the good leg, but when I have to take that first step, I almost face-plant back into the mud. But my girl catches me and helps me up the hill to her car. By the time we get inside we're both sweating up a storm.

“I'll take you home, get you cleaned up, and figure out our next move. Okay?”

Of course, I agree. I'm all out of ideas.

L
ife at Mack's place continues to be one big party. I'm glad because I need this shit in order to survive my broken heart. One part of me screams for me to forgive, but another won't let me. Maybe this shit is all my fault—for clinging onto Profit like he was a life raft. Maybe I've become too needy—too clingy.

Mack is right. I need to become more independent. Stack my own paper. Have my own identity. For the moment, I'm living off the knot of cash that Profit gave me and I'm ashamed to say that I've spent most of that on drugs.

It's not a habit. I can quit at any time. But right now I have no desire to be all up in my feelings twenty-four hours a day. Feelings lead to tears and I'm all cried out.

“So are you going to get in on this or what?” Mack asks, referring to her great credit card scheme.

I sigh, still not feeling her big moneymaker, but what the fuck else am I going to do? “I guess I can check it out,” I tell her. “See if I'm any good at the shit.”

The girls break out into huge smiles.

“Trust me,” Mack brags. “It's the easiest shit you've ever done.”

“We'll see,” I say, accepting the wet blunt being passed by Romil.

This shit gives me an incredible high. I don't know why Mack thinks this is the best time to go over step-by-step how we jack people's social security numbers and what not, because everything she's saying is going in one ear and out the other. I get a rhythm going on, knowing when to nod and when to say, “Uh-huh.”

When my body gets to tingling real good, I tell one of the girls to turn the music up and I start shaking my ass.

“Looks like someone is ready to hit the clubs again tonight,” Mack says.

“Yeah. Maybe we can find that sexy-ass nigga you were dancing with at Club Diesel again.”

I blush, remembering Beast. “He was fine.”

“Uh-huh,” Dime cosigns. “He's the perfect brother to get your mind off Profit.”

My mood sours. “Why the hell did you have to bring him up for?”

Mack joins in. “Hell. You probably gotta worry about him rolling his ass up in there again and dragging you out.”

They laugh at my expense, sounding like a pack of hyenas.

“Girl, don't make that face. You know that nigga is still hung up on you. People peep you two rolling around this hood, trying not to trip over each other's bottom lip. It's fucking sad.”

I clamp my mouth shut and seethe. It's not their fault. I still haven't told them what went down between Profit and me.

Mack stays on a roll. “You know y'all still love each other. I don't see what the problem is.”

Dime chirps up again. “Yeah. My nigga, Big Boy, says Profit is keeping to himself and acting like he don't see none of the neighborhood thots tryna push up on him.”

“What?”

“Girl. These thirsty bitches don't play. If there's an available dick on the market, they're going all in on that shit.”

“Fuck available. Thots be checking the locks on the shit that's locked down, too.” Romil laughs.

Dime suddenly gets religion. “Amen and amen.”

“Will you please change the damn subject?” I growl. I'm already having a hard time getting that damn kiss out of my head. I don't want or need to add images of a line of hoes rotating in and out of our bedroom.

“All right, girl.” Mack shrugs. “Don't say that we didn't warn you. Out here, a good nigga is hard to find.”

I roll my eyes and reach to take another hit on the blunt, but as high as I am, I can't get the nightmare images of Profit fucking every girl in a ten-mile radius out of my head. I hop up on Mack's coffee table and try to dance Profit out of my system.

Suddenly there's a knock at the front door
.

“I'll get it,” Dime says, stubbing out the blunt and running toward the door.

I go back to my blissful dancing until I hear Qiana Barrett screech, “WHAT THE FUCK IS
SHE
DOING HERE?”

M
y gaze bounces around Mack's living room. I can't believe what I'm seeing.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Mack asks. “She's here because I invited her ass here. Check the fuckin' address. This is my fuckin' crib.”

I snap my jaw shut and then turn toward GG. “This was a bad idea. Let's go.”

She gives me the stink eye. “And then do what? The clock is ticking, remember?”

She's right.
My heart drops. If we don't ask her girls for backup, we're left to deal with this shit by ourselves, which means I'm a dead bitch.

“So what's up?” Mack shouts. “Are y'all comin' in or are y'all trying to heat the outside?”

Despite being in a desperate situation, I tug GG's arm for us to leave, but she shrugs it off and crosses the threshold. I have no choice but to follow.

“It's about damn time,” Romil says, shaking her head. “Y'all want a beer or something?”

“Sure, that'll be great,” GG answers and then looks at me.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Well, don't do us no muthafuckin' favors.” Romil wrinkles her nose. “What the hell is wrong with your foot?”

“Nothing,” I lie, holding on to GG's arm.

GG leans over and whispers, “Chillax. We need them, remember?”

My gaze shoots over to a smirking and dancing Ta'Shara. I hate this bitch. And as far as I'm concerned, she's the damn reason that I'm even in this predicament, her crossing color lines and flaunting her and Profit's relationship in my face every time I turn around.

Ta'Shara stops dancing and stares me down. “Damn, bitch. Snap a picture or something.”

Dime snickers. “She either wants to kiss you or fuck you. I can't tell which.”

Bitch has gotten bold as shit.

“Here you go, Q.” Romil hands me a beer. “Make yourself at home.”

I look around but don't know where to sit. In fact, I feel out of place—period. And they're supposed to be my people. Not Ta'Shara's.

“What the fuck are you twisting your face for?” Mack barks. “You got something to say about my place?”

“No. No.” I glance over at GG, who's eyeballing me to behave. Swallowing back my irritation at Ta'Shara's presence, I drop down into a La-Z-Boy that has definitely seen better days but is still comfortable.

“So what brings you two bitches here?” Mack asks. “This ain't normally your neck of the woods.”

“We came by to ask you guys for . . . help.”

“GG!”

“What?”

She can't be this fucking clueless that she's about to blurt out my business in front of every damn body.

“Huh. This looks serious.” Mack's gaze shifts from me to GG. “What's up? I'm all ears.”

“Well. It's personal,” GG says, glancing toward Ta'Shara.

Mack, Romil, and Dime all turn toward Ta'Shara.

“What? Y'all want me to step out or something?” she asks.

“Yeah, Einstein,” I sass.

Mack faces me and folds her arms. “She ain't gotta go no damn where. She stays here. Anything that you got to say, you can say in front of her.”

“Well?”

“Oh. Fuck this shit.” I push out of the chair and hobble a bit. “I'm out of here.”

GG leaps up and grabs my arm. “No. Wait.”

“Don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you on your way out,” Mack says.

“See? They aren't even interested in helping me.” Saying that shit makes me tear up. I'm not so stupid to not realize that my ass is fucked. I'll have to meet LeShelle without a plan and without backup.

My distress must show because Ta'Shara suddenly says, “Nah. It's good. Y'all talk. I gotta piss anyway.” She jumps off the coffee table. “I gotta pee.”

Mack smacks the girl on the ass as she turns and sashays away.

What the fuck? The girl has only been a Flower for a hot minute and she's already in deep with GG's clique. My blood boils as I watch Ta'Shara disappear down the hallway.

“Q, child. You're gonna have to get over your li'l beef with our girl. She's one of
us
now,” Mack says, grinning.

“Get over it?” I yell. “Look at my fucking face.” I point to the twin gashes on my face. “Would you get over this shit?”

Mack shrugs, unmoved. “You stepped to the girl first.”

“You're going to choose a damn Queen G's word over mine?”

“She ain't no Queen G. Never was.”

“The bitch's sister is the head bitch in charge of those blood clots!”

“You mean the bitch's sister who's been tryna kill her this past year? That bitch?”

That put a pause in my anger.

Mack continues. “Regardless, you gotta squash the shit. You can figure out how to do that shit on your own time. Me? I like her. She's cool.”

“And a great muthafuckin' shooter,” Dime adds. “You should've seen how she took out that sand nigga at the liquor store.”

“What?”

“Saved our asses,” Dime says, seeming to have a hard time keeping her head from rolling around her neck. “You really need to give her another chance. You probably have more in common than you think.”

I'm in the fucking twilight zone.What was once up is now down and vice versa.

“So what the hell did y'all come over here for—other than to fuck up my damn high?” Mack asks.

GG and I cut a look to each other. I still have a bad feeling about this.

“We need backup,” GG blurts out. “We have ourselves a little situation.”

“What kind of situation?”

GG looks at me again and my stomach twists.

“Well? You gonna speak or what?” Mack snaps.

“With, um, LeShelle Murphy,” I say. “Well, I . . . I sort of... did something I shouldn't have—and now if I don't give her what she wants by tonight, she's going to kill me.”

“Whoa. Whoa.” Mack holds up her hands. “Slow down. What the hell do you mean, you did something you shouldn't have? What did you do?”

Romil and Dime lean forward and stare at my mouth. But suddenly I can't get my tongue unglued. After all, I killed one of our own.

“Shit. SPEAK!”

GG jumps in. “She made a deal with that crazy LeShelle.” Silence.

“Okay. You two bitches are working my nerves. GG, you're my girl, but really? Either spit it out or get the fuck on.”

“I struck a deal,” I say, my heart racing. “If she took care of someone for me then I would murk someone for her.”

Silence.

“I know it was stupid and I probably wasn't thinking straight. But now I'm in some serious shit. And, well, GG thinks you girls can help me.”

“I don't understand,” Romil cuts in. “Why didn't you murk the bitch you wanted to murk—or ask us
then
to help you?”

“Because . . . Lucifer gave the order that the bitch couldn't be touched.”

“Oh shit,” Dime says, her neck still bobbing around. “You violated Lucifer's order? Have you lost your mind? Do you know what the fuck she'll do to you if she finds out?”

My eyes wet up. This is not going at all how GG told me it would go down.
What are we going to do if they turn me down—or worse, turn me over to Lucifer?

Before I can stop them, tears slip down my face. “I fucked up, okay? I shouldn't have asked LeShelle to kill that grimy bitch Essence. But she violated
all
the fucking rules by going to see Profit while he was laid up in that hospital. Since when in the hell do we protect Queen Gs and shit? The bitch was an enemy and flaunting it in my face that she was allowed to sniff around Profit. So, yeah. I saw an opportunity to get rid of her and I took it. But then LeShelle found out that I didn't kill the baby too, and now she wants me to give her the baby Saturday night at Hack's Crossing—but I know that if I show up, she's going to kill him
and
me.”

“And who did you murk for her?” Mack asks, ignoring the second half of my rant.

I swallow and shrug. “Some pregnant yellow bitch that was fucking her man.”

Mack, Romil, and Dime rush toward me. “That's where that fuckin' baby came from?”

Dime looks blown away. “Was that the same bitch that they were talking about on the news? You sliced that baby out of a damn corpse?”

“No.” I shrug and shuffle my feet. “I sliced him out first.”

“Daaaaamn. That's some cold shit.” Mack steps back and studies me.

“They found Tyneshia Gibson's body with that girl,” Dime says. “She do that damn job with you?”

I swallow.

“What happened?”
Lie. Lie. Lie.
“I, uh, I mean . . .” I glance over at GG for help.

Mack cocks her head. “Don't tell us you had something to do with her death, too.”

Ta'Shara's voice slices through all the bullshit. “
You
had Essence killed?”

Everyone's neck swivels to an angry Ta'Shara. She looks like she's breathing fire.

“Answer me, you low-life bum-bitch. You had my best friend killed?”

“Aww. Shit,” Mack huffs.

“Fuck that bitch—and
fuck
you too.”

In a flash, Ta'Shara flies across the room.

Hell, I barely have time to put my hands up before she's on my ass like white on rice.

“BITCH!”

I back up but my weak foot gives out and we fly over the arm of the La-Z-Boy. When I hit the floor, the air is knocked out of me. Before I can replace it, Ta'Shara's fists crash against my jaw in quick succession. I swing back, but the bitch blocks my punches to deliver more blows. In no time, my mouth fills with blood.
Where the fuck is GG? Why in the fuck she ain't getting this bitch off of me?

“No. No,” Mack snaps, holding GG back. “We're going to let them hash this shit out for once and for all.”

Ta'Shara lands another punch and fuckin' stars dance around my head like a fuckin' cartoon. It's almost as if this bitch has superhuman strength and I'm a fucking punching bag, unable to land a single blow—then the bitch snatches a handful of my hair and tries to snatch me bald.

“Aaargh! Get this fucking bitch off of me!”

Ta'Shara punches me in the mouth. Clearly, I'm not going to get any damn help. I buck, kick, and do everything possible to get Ta'Shara off of me, but it's not fucking working. Heart racing, I expect at any moment she's going to slip out her blade and slice me up some more—if she doesn't kill me first.

A few times, I catch the glassy rage in her eyes. Is she high on some shit? Are they going to let her fuckin' kill me?

“All right. That's enough,” Mack says. She and the other girls pull Ta'Shara off. The girl is still scrapping to get back at me.

“I'm going to fucking kill her!” Ta'Shara roars.

I scramble back across the floor, staring at the bitch. She's possessed or some shit. “She's fuckin' crazy!” I wipe the back of my hand across my throbbing lips and to no surprise see a trail of blood. “Look at what the fuck she just did.”

“Calm down,” Mack orders. “Nobody is going to commit a damn homicide up in here today. We're all on the same team.”

“The fuck we are,” Ta'Shara shouts as she attempts to rush me again and it takes all four of them to hold her back—barely.

I relax.

Out of the blue, Ta'Shara grabs hold of a liquor bottle, breaks free, and launches toward me.

Unable to move on my foot, I'm a sitting duck when she smashes that shit over my head, knocking me senseless. I drop like a stone as my head explodes in pain.

“SHIT!” GG cries.

I reach up and touch the side of my head. More blood.

“You're a piece of shit,” Ta'Shara rages.

Get up! Get up!
But my legs won't work.
What the fuck?

GG and her friends struggle to hold Ta'Shara back.

I try again, but bump into a table where a Bose stereo and about twenty-odd lit candles topple onto me. A white light flashes—then an indescribable pain shoots across my body.

My ass is on fire.

“Holy shit!” Mack shouts. “Somebody get some fucking water!”

But everybody stands there stunned as shit with their goddamn mouths open.

Frantically I swat at the flames but they only seem to grow bigger. “AHHHH! Help me! Somebody help me,” I scream, flailing around in circles. I can't tell what the fuck those non-helping bitches are doing, but I keep spinning around and then I break for a run—going straight through the back glass door. More pain. The fire keeps burning and then pain grows so intense that I give up and black the fuck out.