Section 8 Read online
Page 4
“You fucking bum bitch! I will wash you in here!” Tionna continued to claw and kick at the girl. It took the initial female officer and two males to completely pin her. For her little outburst she had a six-month ban from Riker’s placed on her, and Duhan went to the box.
Tionna knew in her heart that Duhan fucked other girls, but she tried to tell herself that he would change. She, too, had stepped out a time or three, but it was usually payback for some stupid shit he’d done. Until then they had both had enough respect for each other not to let their dirt intermingle, but Sharon was too young and dumb to understand grown people’s etiquette. Sharon was technically a baby, and Tionna would try to keep this in mind when she saw her again. Still, the fact remained that if Sharon broke fly with her mouth again, Tionna was going to throw their age differences aside and step knee-deep off into her ass.
“I can’t believe that bitch called herself trying to run up on me,” Sharon said, while licking the end of the cigar to seal it. She fidgeted on Rock Head’s lumpy twin bed, trying to find a comfortable position.
“Yo, Tionna is off da hook. You might wanna be easy, Sharon; she used to lay bitches down back in the days,” Rock Head said.
“Like that shit is supposed to scare me? I got hand skills too, nigga. Besides, Tionna is washed up. Ain’t that bitch like forty? She out here arguing with me and she’s supposed to be the adult.”
“You did start, Sharon.”
“How, by walking down the steps? Just because y’all niggaz treat her like royalty don’t mean I got to. Tionna ain’t the queen of the fucking hood. The only reason bitches even sweated her like that is because Duhan kept her dipped. Let’s see the bitch maintain now that her cash cow is locked up,” Sharon said scornfully.
“Duhan was getting a little bread when he was out here; you think he left her holding anything?” Rock Head asked. His mind was always on a lick, friend or foe.
“He might’ve left her whatever scraps he had laying around the house, but he ain’t leave her no real bread because he wasn’t fucking wit’ her like that when he got locked up.”
Rock Head looked at her like she was crazy. “You bugging, that was his wifey, yo.”
“Wifey my ass! The only reason he even fucked with her for as long as he did is because they got kids together and he was trying to do the right thing. What y’all don’t know is that before Duhan got locked up, he was gonna leave her,” Sharon said, more to convince herself than Rock Head. She and her sister had had countless arguments about her being a fool for Duhan, but Sharon knew that Reese was just hating. Just because she ended up getting pregnant by a guy who wanted nothing to do with his daughter didn’t mean that the same thing would happen to her; she was smarter than Reese had been at that age. The streets might’ve recognized Tionna as Duhan’s wife, but he had told Sharon that he loved her, which in her foolish heart was enough to seal the deal.
Rock Head let Sharon go on and on about her hate for Tionna and love for Duhan, while he kept rolling weed, stoking the fire. In under an hour Sharon was so high that she could barely keep her eyes open. “That piff got you, huh?” Rock Head nudged her out of her nod.
“Yo, that shit was fire, Rock Head. Where you get that?” she asked, smiling lazily. In all her years of smoking weed she could never recall being that high.
“You know I stay wit’ that, ma.” He placed his hand on her thigh, just below the pleat of her skirt.
“Cut it out.” She giggled and playfully slapped his hand away.
“You know that shit feels good.” He ran his hand down her arm and watched the goose bumps materialize. He could see her supple young nipples pressing against her shirt and it aroused him. “You know I’ve been checking for you for a while, right?” He moved in closer and started kissing her neck.
“Nigga, please, you just want some pussy.” She shoved him, but not enough to really move him. Between the weed and Rock Head’s pawing, she was starting to get horny. Unexpectedly her vagina expelled a puff of air, which they both heard.
“Damn, and I ain’t even get in it yet.” He hiked her skirt up and admired the bush poking out of her panties. Rock Head ran his finger along the imprint of her clit, causing her to hiss. “You know you like that,” he said, kissing the inside of her thigh. She smelled slightly of sweat, but he was so thirsty that he didn’t care.
“Cut it out, Rock Head.” She dragged her nails down the back of his head softly. The more he touched, the wetter she got. “We can’t do this.”
“Sure we can.” He mounted her, trying to guide his thick penis inside her.
She parted her legs for him. “Hold on, we ain’t even got no condoms.”
Rock Head was so hard that the head of his dick had already started leaking. He was on fire and only Sharon’s love nest could put it out. “Don’t worry, baby, I ain’t got nothing, I got tested before I came home from prison.” He slipped the head in with ease. Sharon was surprisingly loose for a girl her age.
“Rock Head, get a condom,” she breathed as he stroked in and out of her. Every time he hit her walls, she felt like she was gonna explode.
Rock Head leaned up and silenced her with a sloppy kiss. “We good; I’ll pull out before I come,” he lied before he went back to his pounding.
CHAPTER 4
China White eased to a stop halfway through the intersection at the corner of 104th to let a foul-mouthed little boy cross the street. He screamed something to his friends across the street before grabbing his crotch and continuing on his way. You could tell by his body language that he was a bad-ass kid; at that time of day, Columbus Avenue was teeming with them.
“Damn, if it wasn’t for these kids, this muthafucka might as well be a ghost town,” Silk said, taking a drag of her cigarette. At its height, the Frederick Douglass housing project had been one of the livest, with the corner of 104th and Columbus being a gathering spot for the locals. Now, it was a shell of its former self, with more young boys in tight jeans who were looking for acceptance than original heads who knew the history.
“All the real niggaz are in jail, or squared up,” Tech said, sitting up enough to see but not to be seen.
Silk flicked the burning cigarette out the window. “It would seem like it’d make more sense to just run these niggaz up out and do us instead of going about it like this.”
“Nah.” Tech shook his head. “That’s going about it the hard way.” He took a minute to examine the face of a girl pushing a stroller. Whether he knew her or not, he never said. “Ain’t no profit in killing for free, ma. Money without bloodshed is the sweetest and less conspicuous. I got a line on this nigga that’s a mile long, so I got an idea of how to work the angle, so cool is the operative word, Silk. We’re gonna go in here and speak our piece and boogie, simple as that.”
“You really think this cat is gonna go for it? I mean, if it was me, ain’t no way in the hell I can see letting a nigga muscle me outta mine. It’s death before dishonor, all day!”
Tech smiled at the young girl. “Ain’t many niggaz left that’s built like you, Silky.”
“And that’s what’s wrong with the game,” China added.
They ended up circling the block twice before spotting their mark. It was a wonder that they hadn’t spotted him on their first pass, being that he stuck out like a sore thumb, with his pale skin among the darkness of his peers. He was posted up in the parking lot, behind 845, speaking to a chick who wore her hair in fuzzy extensions. Flanking them were several local cats, who were trying their best to look hard, but their eyes said that there wasn’t a killer among them. Still, Silk placed her hammer on her lap in case anyone felt like overextending themselves trying to prove how hard they were.
“Y’all niggaz be easy, we ain’t the police,” Silk said out the passenger’s window. Though she was smiling, showing off her grills, it did nothing to ease the tension. “ ’Sup, Bobo,” she addressed the pale young man, then turned to the girl. “Do me a favor, ma, take a walk. Bo will get back with
you in a few.”
“What?” she snaked her neck. “I know you ain’t talking to me?”
“Chill,” Bobo urged through clenched teeth.
“Fuck all that you ain’t gonna have ya little dyke looking jump offs coming though here talking to me all crazy. I ain’t no fucking punk; check ya bitch, yo, for real!”
Bobo tried to calm her, but she kept talking. Even before he heard the car door pop open he knew how it would play out, so he just stepped to the side. Silk moved so quickly that she seemed to just appear next to the loudmouthed girl. The girl pulled a box cutter, which Silk simply slapped away, and in the next motion she jammed her gun beneath the girl’s chin. All the bravado was gone as she looked down sheepishly at the much shorter Silk.
Silk leaned in so close that the girl could see the sun glinting off the freshly polished gold of her teeth. “Ho, you must be stupid. You’re willing to put yo life on the line for a piece of dick?” Silk sounded offended. “Ma, you’s a poor excuse for a bitch.” Silk pushed her away and kicked the girl in the ass as she jogged off. “Do something with them nappy-ass braids and your ass might look like something!” she called after her. Now Bobo had her undivided attention. “And your little ass is starting to become more trouble than you’re worth.”
“Go ahead with that shit, Silk, and tuck that hammer before you have the police blowing my spot,” Bobo said, trying to sound easy.
Silk raised an eyebrow. “Yo spot? Bobo, you’s a funny muthafucka, but I ain’t come here to dissect youre sorry-ass character. Real recognize real and I don’t see a thorough nigga left in this whole muthafucka.” She motioned toward the projects. “Look, you know why I’m here, so let’s not beat around the bush.”
“Man, tell Tech I’ll get with him,” Bobo tried to brush her off. He’d already been ducking Tech for the last few days, so it wouldn’t be too hard to duck him for a few more.
Silk smiled. “Nah, you can tell him yourself. He’s in the whip.”
This was something Bobo hadn’t counted on and his face showed it. Instinctively he slipped his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, where his gun was, but he knew that even if he could muster up the courage to pull it out, Silk would waste him. She peeped the move and tried to set him at ease. “Don’t trip, man; you know we ain’t come down here to do you nothing, so be easy.”
“I’m good, but tell him to get out of the car if he wanna talk,” Bobo bartered.
Silk gave Tech a hand signal. Tech thought on it for a minute before nodding in approval. He reached for the door handle and uncoiled himself onto the pavement to join them, but before he could take a step, China had made her way around to the passenger’s side and stood between him and potential danger.
“This is the cat I was telling you about, Tech,” Silk said.
“No need for introductions, Silky, Bo knows who I am. Ain’t that right, Bo?” Tech eyed him.
Bobo thought on it for a minute before answering. “Yeah, I might’ve heard ya name a time or two before Silk reached out.”
Tech clapped his hands and smiled. “Knock that shit off, fam. If you don’t know my name, you damn sure know my work. Let’s not start this thing between us with fronting, life is far too short to waste. You know who I am and how I give it up, so that leaves the question of why you never responded to my envoy.” Bobo looked confused, so Tech broke it down into simpler terms: “I sent Silk and China to arrange a business meeting, but we ain’t heard back from you.”
“Yeah, ya broads got at me and I had every intention on getting at you, I just ain’t got around to it yet,” Bobo said, as if it were that simple.
“You ain’t got around to it yet?”
Bobo shrugged. “You know how it is when you’re a busy dude. Besides, I don’t know how I feel about getting sent for.”
“I can respect that, you being such a busy cat and all,” Tech said sarcastically. “But check, I need to speak about some things with you, and the sooner we’re done, the sooner we can both go about our days.”
Bobo shrugged. “So speak.”
Tech looked around at the assembled faces, then let his cold gaze go back to Bobo. “I don’t think what I got to say is for everybody’s ears, feel me?”
“These is my niggaz,” Bobo said, motioning toward the group. “Whatever you got to say to me, you can say in front of them.”
Tech smirked. “If you like it, I love it. Styles said you were an interesting dude.”
Hearing the name Styles sent a chill down Bobo’s back. Until a few years ago, Styles had been one of the ruling factors in the projects. He’d had a good run and been fair with most people, but the judicial system didn’t care if you were a nice guy when it came to drugs. Styles and his team had been caught slipping and been taken down on some fabricated charges, strengthened by the testimony of the very same cats they were feeding in the hood. Though they were no angels, most of what the witnesses said during the trial was bullshit created out of fear and jealousy. Needless to say, the testimonies sent them away for some very lengthy bids.
“You still wanna talk in front of ya peoples?”
“Let’s walk down to the end of the lot,” Bobo said, trying to hide the fear in his voice. It was very possible that Tech could’ve come to kill him, but he doubted it. He had heard enough about Tech to know that if it was a hit, he probably wouldn’t have seen him coming until it was too late.
“Give me a sec, ladies,” Tech told China and Silk, before following Bobo down the lot.
“Take ya time, T, we got this under control,” Silk called after him, but never took her eyes off the young men assembled.
“So what’s up, what you want with me?” Bobo asked, once they were out of earshot.
“I don’t want shit from you, duke, I actually wanna give you something,” Tech said. He saw the fear flash across Bobo’s eyes. “Calm down, I ain’t here to kill you. Dig this: what I propose is a partnership of sorts. I hit you with my product, and you have your boys move it through the projects, at a fifty-five–forty-five split, in favor of me.”
Bobo looked at Tech as if he’d lost his mind. “You came all the way down here to tell me that? Yo, my man, I could’ve saved you a trip. I got a good thing going on down here, so why would I want to let another nigga in on it, especially for forty-five percent, when I’m already getting a hundred?”
“Because I know your secret, Bo. I think we both know that you wouldn’t be getting shit if you ain’t put the finger on Styles as your supplier,” Tech said. His tone was neutral, but the weight of his words hit Bobo like a slap.
“My dude, I don’t know what you’re taking about and I don’t appreciate you coming down here trying to call me a snitch.” Bobo tried to puff up, but Tech was unmoved.
“First of all,” Tech began, “I don’t too much give a fuck what you appreciate. It’s cats like you that got the game rotting from the inside out as it is. And second, you and I both know I ain’t telling you nothing but the truth.” Tech handed Bobo a folded slip of paper.
Bobo tried to keep his face neutral as he read the paper, but his legs almost gave out on him. It was a page of the grand-jury minutes from Styles’s trial. Styles had been making his life miserable around the hood, constantly badmouthing him, and delivering the occasional slap when called for, so when the opportunity to knock him out of the box and save his own ass at the same time came, he jumped on it. When he’d agreed to become a whore for the government he hadn’t given much thought to the aftermath. By crossing Styles, a lot of families went hungry, but all Bobo could see was his own freedom. After a short bid in a county facility, Bobo came home and the projects were wide open. Bobo figured that his treachery would never come back on him, but Tech had proven him wrong.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Tech said, snapping him out of his trance. “There’s a little thing called the Public Information Act, which makes the things sneaky muthafuckas like you do when you think nobody is listening available to the public.”
“
Yo—” Bobo began, but Tech cut him off.
“Bo, don’t even say nothing, because you can’t get no lower than you are now. I know for a fact that Styles hated yo ass, so I couldn’t imagine him giving you a cigarette, let alone some drugs. You did what you did to save your ass. I can’t say that I respect it or you, but I’m the executioner, not the judge. Bottom line is I need some of that money that’s coming through this hood. You ain’t gotta answer me now, Bo. I’ll send Silk back tonight with something for you. If you take it, I’ll know where we stand. If not, you might wanna think about arming up.” Tech walked away from Bobo without waiting for an answer.
“I don’t like that l’il muthafucka,” Silk said, still staring at Bobo out the rear window, even as China turned out of the parking lot.
“He ain’t for you to like, baby, he’s to get fat off,” Tech informed her.
“I still don’t like the nigga.”
“You think he’s gonna go for the strong-arm tactic, Tech? I know Bobo is a piece of shit, but he got a few goons out here and he fucking with them boys. There’s a good chance that when we pay that next visit, he gonna pull a cross,” China said.
Tech shrugged. “More than likely, which is why he ain’t gonna get the chance. Bobo is a faggot, but them greasy niggaz who hold his guns think the boy is a god, so we’re gonna make him mortal. When he closes his eyes tonight, all his goons are gonna know who sang the lullaby, so when we move in with our product they be hesitant to test us, but we ain’t gonna gorilla the block, we gonna let them eat. Them young boys are more loyal to this cake than they are to Bobo. Besides, Styles already dropped the bread on that faggot, so he’s on borrowed time. That nigga will be gone soon enough, but his block is still gonna be there.”
“When did you plan on telling us that we were gonna kill Bobo?” Silk asked.
“Actually, I wasn’t, because it was none of your business,” Tech informed her. He saw the hurt flash in her hard eyes, so he explained himself. “This meal is for the little ones. They been ’bout they shit thus far, but it’s time to test their mettle. Our thing is expanding and we’re gonna need more soldiers, so I wanna see exactly what these niggaz are made of.”