Street Divas (9 page)

“Y'ALL NIGGAS CHILL!” I shout before they start blasting.

“Shoot this nigga!” Arzell shouts, uncurling and making another dive for his gun.

An army of guns go up.

“NO!” I wave my arms and manage to stop everyone's fire as well as kick out my good leg and send Arzell's gun sliding away from him.

“Momma Peaches, what the hell is going on?” McGriff asks, his black gaze darting back and forth.

“Just some dumb shit,” I hiss, and then smack Arzell over the head again. “See, I need to stop fuckin' with you young muthafuckas. Y'all always wanna solve shit with a gun.” I whack him one more time. “We cool—just get this nigga out of here.”

The guns go down and niggas start snickering. But McGriff reaches down and grabs Arzell by the collar of his T-shirt. “C'mon, Romeo. You heard Momma Peaches. Kick rocks.”

“But . . . but—”

McGriff jams his gun under Arzell's chin. “Nigga, does it look like I'm fuckin' asking yo ass?”

Arzell holds up his hands to signal his surrender. He may be mad, but he's not stupid enough to buck up against McGriff and think his ass is gonna be able to walk out of this muthafucka alive.

Cedric bends over and chugs in deep breaths. He's eyeballing Arzell so hard I know that he wants another go at him or at the very least to haul his ass down to jail. But our little rendezvous is a bit problematic and in all likelihood could cost him his job. He's sweating like a muthafucka, too. While Cedric struggles to calm down and catch his breath, a few of the Queen Gs help pull me up off the floor.

“You all right, Momma P?” Kookie asks.

“Yeah. Just help me over here to this chair.” When Kookie and her friend Pit Bull help me on over, one of the other girls hands me my busted prosthetic. I can't help but be a little embarrassed.

“Now is everything cool here?” McGriff asks, swinging his gaze over to Cedric. On Shotgun Row, niggas are suspicious of every new face.

“Yeah. We cool,” is all I say. It ain't nobody's business who the fuck I allow in my house. “Now y'all muthafuckas go. Shit. This ain't no damn family reunion.” I wave them toward the door while twisting my head with a whole lot of attitude. That's when I catch sight of that punk-ass bitch who locked my husband up on the television screen.
Is his ass crying?

“Yo, Kookie. Turn that up!”

This slow bitch Kookie looks around like she doesn't know what I'm talking about.

“The television. Damn. Hurry up!” I'm going to miss what the reporter's saying.

“Captain Johnson,” a reporter shouts. “Does the department have any leads in your daughter's murder?”

Despite being in a sharp, highly decorated police captain uniform, Captain Melvin Johnson looks like a train wreck. There're bags under his eyes, his bottom lip is trembling and he's having a hard time spitting out whatever it is he's trying to say.

“At the moment, the department is carefully combing through the crime scene. Given the violence of . . . of my daughter's heinous murder . . . the amount of blood, bullets . . . the total destruction that happened there last night . . . I am . . . we are confident that we will be able to secure an arrest soon.”

“What the fuck?” I can't believe what I'm hearing.

“Captain Johnson,” another reporter calls out while a series of flashes flickers across the screen. “Do you know anyone who would want to kill your daughter? Did she have any enemies?”

A tear skips down the captain's face as he shakes his head. “Being a police officer herself, I can't say definitively that Melanie . . . Officer Melanie Johnson . . . didn't have any enemies, but I can't imagine it. And I can't imagine who would want to kidnap”—his lips quiver—“my grandson.” He presses his lips together and then proceeds to break down
.

“Kidnapped?” My mind zooms to Python.
He wouldn't.
But the way my stomach starts twisting, I know that I'm trying to lie to myself. “Holy shit! Somebody get my other prosthetic leg out of my closet. Hurry!”

“S
ssssssssss.”

Heaven is the feel of Python's thick, forked tongue sliding in between my ass cheeks while his hand pumps steadily in and out of my pussy. This shit is so good that I'm willing to forgive this nigga of all past transgressions—and, Lord, there have been plenty. I have long had the respect of being his number-one wifey, Queen G, his ride-or-die bitch, but soon I'll have the papers and his last name. It'll make it official that I belong someplace—belong to someone. Truth be told, that's all I've ever fuckin' wanted.

With Jacki-O's fierce lyrics playing from the Bose on the nightstand and my nigga dicking me down, I feel like the queen of the universe. My legs are trembling while warm honey slowly drips from my pussy and coats Python's big-ass hand. We've been at this shit off and on for hours. Neither one of us is afraid to put in work when it comes to funkin' up these sheets. When my body is convulsing and exploding, I ain't thinking about shit other than what I got going on right here in this bed. Now, if we didn't have to get out of this muthafucka, everything would be all good. I grew up feeling like someone's unwanted trash, tossed into the foster care system and forced to fend for myself . . . and my sister. But fuck that bitch. Looking out for her ass has done nothing but cause me a lot of heartache and misery. From this day on, I'm looking out for number one, and I'll mow down any bitch who gets in my way.

Pretty soon, all Python's jump-offs are going to know what time it is, and they're going to get back or get smacked down.

“Sssssssssss.”

My eyes flutter open as Apollo, Python's six-foot redtail boa constrictor, slithers by my head. Usually it's just us and two small ball pythons, Beauty and Beast, in the bed. They're harmless, but Apollo creeps me out. Seeing his ugly ass ruins this orgasmic high. I scoot back when I notice his ass coiling like he's getting ready to attack.

“Ba-by, does he have to be in the bed?”

Python's warm tongue slowly pulls out, but instead of answering me, he slaps my ass so hard, the
whap
reverberates throughout the room.

“Ow!” I jump up as Apollo strikes. Bastard barely misses sinking those ugly fangs into my titties.

“Python!”

He laughs and smacks my ass again. “What the fuck? Your ass scared, Ma? Get your ass down!” He pushes my head back onto the mattress and then peels my ass cheeks open. “I'm gonna get me some of this good shit you got.”

I don't know where Apollo has slithered off to, but best believe I'm keeping an eye out for that muthafucka. In no time at all, I feel the head of Python's big cock squeeze into my back door, and I suck in a deep breath. I ain't gonna lie—this shit is painful, and it reminds me of all those pedophile foster muthafuckas who used to creep into my bed late at night and then leave me crying and bleeding. But those memories don't last but for a second, because the next thing I know, I'm embracing the pain. It's the only thing that's real and consistent in this life. If a bitch don't learn that shit, she will forever be played out.

“Sssssssss.” Python sinks all his shit in with one long-ass stroke.

With his balls resting on the back of my ass, I hear him taking in air with small sips. I take it as a cue to squeeze my ass muscles like I'm about to snap his shit off.

“Sssssss. Goddamn, baby. Goddamn.” His hand locks tight on my waist. “Do that shit, baby. Do that shit.”

Whap! Whap!
Now both of my ass cheeks are on fire.

“Lock that shit up, baby!” he pants.

My nigga is a true-blue ass freak, and I know how to give him exactly what he wants. While his mind is spinning, I start rocking and throwing everything I got onto this fat dick. “That's right, baby. Fuck me. Show me how much you love this shit.”

He ain't said nothing but a thing. I arch my back, bite my bottom lip, and pound his shit. I steal a glance at his fuck face, and that shit is so twisted I know his ass is completely sprung. “You like that, Daddy?”

“Sssssssss.” His hands slide up from my waist and stretch all the way up to close around my neck. I lift my head because I know what's coming, and he doesn't disappoint. He starts squeezing gently at first, but it don't take no time before his grip starts tightening. Before I know it, my head feels like it's twice its normal size, and I can literally hear my heartbeat racing inside my head.

“YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!” Python roars.

I'm numb and tingling everywhere. Then suddenly a blinding pain pierces my upper inner right thigh, but I can't scream out and Python seems content to try and turn my asshole into a murder scene. Yet, the pain isn't going away. If anything, the shit seems to be spreading down my leg.

Hold on. Hold on. He's going to blast his shit off in a few seconds. Just hang on.
But damn, each second feels like a goddamn lifetime. Then Python hits the right corner at the right time and I come so hard it feels like I'm pissing on myself. A second later, Python pulls out and hoses down my ass as if the shit is on fire. At last, he releases my neck and I collapse while sucking in so much oxygen I choke on the shit.

The pain in my thigh is unrelenting. I turn and look down. At the sight of Apollo, dangling with his fangs still locked onto my thigh, I freak the fuck out.

“Goddamn it, Python! Get this muthafucka!”

“What?” He turns to see what the hell is going on.

He's too fuckin' slow. Swinging my hand out to the nightstand and knocking shit over, including the Bose, I grab Python's gat and then come back around, blasting.

POW! POW! POW!

I'm trying to hit this muthafuckin' snake but not really thinking this shit through.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Python scrambles out of bed.

POW! POW! POW!

Once he collects his thoughts, he knocks the gun out of my hand. It hits the wall with another loud discharge. “What the fuck is wrong with your stupid ass?”

“GET HIM OFF!”

He chuckles and then sits down on the edge of the bed. “Calm down and hold still.”

I can't. I'm kicking and trying to knock the muthafucka off.

“CALM DOWN!” He grabs both my legs, but I'm still squirming and bucking from the waist up.

“PYTHON!”

“All right. All right.” Still laughing, he reaches for the snake's head and then squeezes the sides of his mouth together before slowly pulling him up until his two thin fangs slide out of my thigh. “There we go,” Python coos to Apollo. “Did Momma scare you?”

I shiver and then squirm away. “Get that muthafucka out of here. His ass can't come back up in this bitch!”

Python cocks his head at me and pushes out his bottom lip. “What happened to my fearless Queen G?”

“Fuck you, asshole. I mean what I said. That muthafucka stays out!” I examine my thigh and the two crimson puncture marks.

“Chill out. He ain't poisonous.”

I glare at him. “The shit still hurts.”

“Put some alcohol on it and you'll be good to go.” He lowers Apollo onto the floor and then allows him to slither away.

I chug in several deep breaths and then feel stupid for freaking out. Four years I haven't blinked an eye about all these pet snakes. I've taken bullets and murked bitches and niggas like my ass gets a W-2 for the shit. Now I get one bite and I start screaming and hollering like a bitch.

Python leans over and cheeses in my face. “You finished pouting now?”

“Fuck you.”

“Again?” He grabs his meat and starts stroking himself. “I might have another round left in me.”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Who in the fuck?” Python pops up off the bed and walks over to the window with his dick swinging.

I roll over to my side of the bed and then reach down on the floor for my robe. When I snatch it up, I jump at seeing Apollo's coiled ass and I'm tempted to get that gun again.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Who is it?” I ask Python, since he's looking out of the blinds.

He frowns and turns toward the dresser. “Momma Peaches.”

“Shit. Why is she banging like the fuckin' police?” I huff. “I'll go see what she wants,” I say, sliding on my robe. Before hopping out of the bed, I glance around the floor to make sure that Apollo's sneaky ass ain't nowhere around. Sure enough, he's slithered off somewhere. After that, I dart out of the bedroom and race toward the door.

“Morning, Momma—”

“Where he at?” she asks, shoving the door out of my hand and storming into the house like a tornado.

“Please, come in,” I say sarcastically, and then slam the door behind her.

“Save the attitude, honey. I ain't got time for no bullshit. Where's Python?”

Python strolls into the living room, clutching his wounded side. “Hey, what's up?”

“What's up?” Momma Peaches rolls. “What's up?!” She swings her hand so fast I don't really see it. I hear the
SLAP
when it connects to Python's face.

I jump and then shut the front door.

“Nigga, have you lost your fuckin' mind?” Momma Peaches roars. “You killed a cop? And not any fuckin' cop, but the captain of police's daughter? You really think that your ass is going to get away with that shit?”

Python holds up his hand and steps back in case her ass gets to swinging again. “Whoa. Chill out for a second.”

Fast as lightning, Momma Peaches closes the small space and swings again.

SLAP!

“Don't fuckin' tell me to chill out! I'll stand here and knock sense into you all goddamn day if I feel like it. And you know what? You're gonna stand your ass right there and take the shit. You got that?”

Python clenches his jaw.

SLAP!

“Boy, I asked yo ass a question!”

He shoots a look at me, and I drop my head like I ain't seen shit.

When Momma Peaches's hand rises back up, Python jumps back and again starts talking. “I got it. I got it. Damn!”

SLAP!

“Don't be fuckin' cursin' at me, boy! Now where the hell is my grandbaby?”

Python looks to me again, and then Momma Peaches swings her attention to me as well.

“He's in the blue guest room,” I confess before she knocks my ass into the middle of next week—and I don't doubt that her ass would do it either.

“Were
you
in on this?” Momma Peaches digs a fist into her right hip.

“N-no.” My eyes bulge wider.

Momma Peaches cocks her head.

“I swear.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her gaze rakes over me, and I'm not too sure her ass believes me.

Momma Peaches turns back toward Python. “So what happened?”

Python draws a deep breath. “With all due respect, Momma P. I don't think—”

“Nigga, if you were thinking, you wouldn't have done no stupid shit like kill a cop and kidnap her kid.”

“He's
my
kid, too.”

“Great, he and all his other brothers and sisters can visit yo ass at the federal pen—that is, until they stick a needle in your damn arm. A cop? The captain of police's daughter?” Her hands come up.

“Fuck,” Python explodes, jumping back before Momma Peaches starts swinging. “It ain't like I planned that shit,” he thunders. “I went over to that muthafucka to find out if she was carrying my seed.”

“You
were
still fucking her? I can't believe this shit,” I grumble.

Python glares. “Squash it!”

I clench my teeth together and simmer.

Momma Peaches looks sick. “She was pregnant, too? What, she said it wasn't your baby so you shot her?”

“I didn't get a chance to ask her—she was too busy riding Fat Ace's dick.”

The laugh is out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop it. Once that shit gets started, I can't stop. I know the gun battle happened, but I didn't put two and two together that it went down like this.

“What the fuck is your evil ass laughing at?” Python barks.

“Why the fuck do you think? You're always roaming from bitch to bitch and never appreciating what the hell yo ass got at home. Then when you see all these hoes for the triflin' bitches they are, you slither your ass into my bed like everything is everything.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” He waves me off and twists his face like I didn't spit the truth at his ass. “I don't remember hearing no complaints last night—or ten minutes ago.”

“Just like a nigga to think that his
dick
is gonna solve all his problems,” I snap back.

“Chill with that shit. I wasn't the only one capping niggas last night.”

“Nigga—”

“Will y'all two stupid muthafuckas shut the hell up?” Momma Peaches yells. “Let me go see this baby. He's probably scared out of his mind, and I don't fucking blame him. If I had y'all silly asses looking after me, I don't know what I'd do.”

We watch her storm off and then give each other a final glare before marching behind her. When we reach the guest bedroom, I'm surprised and taken aback to see the lil boy trembling like a leaf and huddled in a corner behind boxes and piles of clothes.

“Hey, you can come out,” Momma Peaches coaches softly. “Nobody is going to hurt you.”

The kid doesn't move. I pull in a deep breath and then roll my eyes. This bastard is making us look bad.

Momma Peaches turns toward Python. “What's his name?”

Python clears his throat. “Christopher.”

“Christopher,” Momma Peaches calls softly. “Do you know who I am?”

The boy's large eyes lock onto the older woman.

“Hmmm? Do you know?”

Still a little wary, the kid slowly shakes his head.