The Fix 2 Page 8

  None of the girls in the neighborhood would give Li’l Monk a second look when he was broke and dusty, but now that he had status it seemed like every time Sophie turned around she had to chase away some skank who was trying to invade his space. A time or two, Sophie even found herself having to lay hands on chicks over Li’l Monk. She had worked long and hard to land her childhood crush, and she had no problems making a women bleed for trying to take what belonged to her.

  “You’re right, ma.” Li’l Monk took one last swig of the beer before pouring the rest out on the curb and placing the bottle down on the side of the crate he had been sitting on.

  “Damn, my girl got your pouring your beer out? You must be sprung on her goodies,” Tasha teased Li’l Monk.

  “Ain’t nobody sprung on nothing,” Li’l Monk disputed. Times like that he was glad he was dark skinned so that they couldn’t tell that he was blushing. “So, where are y’all just coming from?” He changed the subject.

  “Had to do a little shopping,” Sophie told him.

  Li’l Monk looked at her empty hands. “How you shopping and I don’t see no bags in your hands?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Because I dropped the stuff off at home already,” she told him.

  “Umm hmm, probably because you didn’t want me to see how you fucked up the money I gave you,” Li’l Monk said, half jokingly.

  Sophie sucked her teeth. “There you go on your bullshit. If you must know, I bought the books I needed for school, not clothes. Furthermore, for as much as I appreciate what you give me, I do have a job, remember?”

  “How can I forget when you’re always throwing it up in my face?” Li’l Monk asked.

  “I don’t throw it in your face. I just like to make sure that you don’t lose sight of the fact that I ain’t no slouch. I’m more than willing to go out and get it instead of waiting around for it to be given. Besides, I’m proud of the fact that I have a job.”

  “Even if it’s just a little supermarket gig,” Tasha said slickly.

  “Tasha, fuck you with your hating-ass. At least I got a job that don’t require me to get checked for STDs every thirty days,” Sophie shot back.

  “Sophie, you know you don’t have to keep working at that supermarket. I can take care of you while you’re chasing that college degree,” Li’l Monk told her. Nobody had been happier than him when Sophie graduated high school that summer. Li’l Monk suggested that she take some time off to enjoy being out of school for a while, but Sophie wanted to immediately continue her education.

  “I know you will, baby.” Sophie kissed him on the cheek. “And because I know you’re willing is why I don’t mind working.”

  Tasha let out a deep sigh. “It must be nice to have somebody. One day my prince will come along and sweep me off my feet.”

  “Yup, and deposit you right on your back where you belong,” Sophie joked.

  “Whatever.” Tasha rolled her eyes. “Sophie, if you were really my friend you’d have Li’l Monk talk to Omega and get him to act right.”

  Li’l Monk blinked. “Nope, I ain’t getting in that. Whatever you and O got going is between y’all. I don’t do domestics.”

  “What I can’t understand is, why is it that you were able to settle down with Sophie, but Omega is acting like he’s allergic to commitment?” Tasha asked.

  Li’l Monk wanted to be truthful with her and tell her that Omega had called her pussy overly friendly, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings so he simply shrugged and said, “Wild hearts can’t be tamed.”

  “I hear that hot shit,” Tasha said, clearly not happy with Li’l Monk’s response. “Omega is gonna keep thinking I’m some little chickenhead bitch he can keep running game on and I’m gonna have to show him what game really is. He talks all that shit about not being comfortable with commitment, but he’s comfortable shooting the club up.”

  “Doing what?” Li’l Monk didn’t understand what she meant.

  “Shooting the club up. Cuming inside me when we have sex,” Tasha explained.

  “Wait, you and Omega don’t use condoms when y’all have sex?” Sophie asked in total surprise. Tasha was her best friend, but she was also loose and so was Omega. They both had multiple partners and having unprotected sex wasn’t exactly the smartest move on either of their parts.

  “Yeah, he said condoms take away from the feeling so we don’t use them,” Tasha revealed. “He say my walls sweet as sugar.”

  “Your walls are gonna be hot like fire if you don’t start taking the proper precautions,” Sophie warned her.

  “Girl, please, Omega ain’t got nothing. I can tell he’s healthy by looking at him,” Tasha said, not realizing how much of a naïve little girl she sounded like. “I ain’t worried about Omega giving me nothing, but he might wanna be worried about me giving him something if he keeps trying to play hard to get. Accidents do happen, feel me?” She rubbed her stomach suggestively. She meant it as a joke, but Li’l Monk wasn’t laughing.

  “Tash, I fucks with you on the strength of you my girl’s best friend, but don’t ever let me hear you talking about trying to do no greasy shit to my man,” Li’l Monk said seriously.

  “Li’l Monk, you know I wouldn’t really try to hang no baby on Omega just to keep him. I was only kidding.” Tasha tried to clean it up.

  “Don’t even joke like that, Tasha, because it ain’t funny. If Omega had heard you say it, he’d have probably kicked your ass,” Li’l Monk told her.

  Tasha sucked her teeth. “Ain’t nobody scared of Omega.”

  “Well you should be, Tasha. Don’t take that party-boy image he gives off as him being a sucka. Omega isn’t someone you want to play those kinds of games with.”

  “It’s cool, baby. Tasha didn’t mean anything by it.” Sophie draped her arms around him and began planting soft kisses on his face and lips. Gradually she could feel the tension drain from him.

  Li’l Monk was enjoying Sophie rubbing his broad back and whispering in his ear about what she had planned for him that evening when he spotted his father on the corner and found his mood suddenly soured. Normally, he would’ve avoided his father or hoped he didn’t see him, but from the looks of things, Monk was about to make a mess that Li’l Monk would no doubt have to clean up.

  “I’ll be right back.” Li’l Monk excused himself from the girls and headed toward his father and the brewing disturbance.

  “Shorty, I don’t know what you thought but I ain’t used to no young snots talking to me sideways. You taking this job too serious and if I were you, I’d tone it down a taste,” Li’l Monk heard his father telling the young man he was exchanging words with when he walked up. As usual, Monk was dressed in all black: black jeans, black hoodie, and a black jacket. It was hardly cold enough to have on a hoodie and a jacket, so Li’l Monk already knew what time it was with his father.

  The young man Monk was arguing with glared at Monk defiantly. The hockey jersey he was wearing nearly swallowed his small frame, and his jeans were a size too big. He was a small dude, with light skin and puffy cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. People would often tease him saying that he looked like the cartoon character Droopy Dog. “I hear you talking, but that ain’t gonna change nothing. Take a walk, old head, before one of the big homies comes and runs you off the block,” he spat, adjusting the crotch of his oversized jeans.

  Monk’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I see you one of them little fuckers who gotta get burned before they realize that the stove is hot, huh?” His hand dropped to his side and eased into the pocket of his hoodie. Before the hand could reappear, Li’l Monk was standing between Monk and the young man.

  “What’s going on here?” Li’l Monk looked from the young man to Monk.

  “Not too much, just about to get acquainted with my new little friend here,” Monk said slyly.

  Li’l Monk ignored his father and turned to the young man. “Is there a problem, Droopy?”

  “Nah, I ain’t the one with the problem, he is. I
been telling muthafuckas all day that we ain’t taking no short, and he is short. Best come back when your money is correct, old timer.”

  Monk laughed. “I swear, you young boys get bolder and stupider by the day. How about instead of me coming with straight money, I take all your shit and don’t give you a dime?”

  Droopy produced a box cutter from his pocket, and banged it against his leg to expel the blade. “Crackhead-ass nigga, you put your hands on me and I’m gonna open you the fuck up!”

  “Put that away, Droopy, and watch your fucking mouth,” Li’l Monk told him. “Now give him what he needs.”

  “But Omega said—”

  “I don’t give a fuck what Omega said, I’m telling you to hit him off,” Li’l Monk said, this time in a sterner tone.

  Droopy mumbled something slick under his breath, while fishing around in his underwear for his stash. He produced two small vials of crack and grudgingly handed them to Monk.

  “See, now was that so hard?” Monk taunted him. Droopy didn’t reply; he just glared at Monk like he was thinking about doing something. “Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me.” Monk read his face.

  “Don’t antagonize him,” Li’l Monk told his father. “Droopy, go wait for me over there.” He motioned toward the corner. “After I finish here, I need to holla at you real quick.”

  “A’ight,” Droopy said and diddy bopped toward the corner. His baggy jeans hung so far off his ass, it was a wonder that he could walk without them falling down.

  “Y’all putting them on these corners younger and younger,” Monk said after Droopy was out of earshot.

  “I didn’t put Droopy out here,” Li’l Monk replied.

  “You know I was about to teach that boy a lesson in manners, don’t you?” Monk pulled his hand partially from the pocket of his hoodie and showed his son the handle of the gun he was holding. He could’ve splattered Droopy if the mood struck him to do so and the boy never saw it coming.

  “I know you could’ve and I appreciate you being the bigger person about it,” Li’l Monk told him.

  “Being the bigger person didn’t have shit to do with it. I spotted them,” Monk nodded across the street to where a police cruiser was coming out of the McDonald’s drive-through. “Next time one of these little bitches you got working under you get lippy, I’m gonna blow their muthafucking faces off.”

  Li’l Monk knew without a doubt that his father was serious about what he was saying. He had fallen off, but was still a man of respect. Back in the days Big Monk had been the man on the streets. He and Persia’s father, Face, were getting major money in Harlem. The hood loved Face, but they were terrified of Monk. He was a cold young man who was quick to violence and had little respect for human life. Things started going downhill for Monk when Face went to prison, and he was barely able to hold on to the empire they had built. Between his love of cocaine and pussy, he just never seemed to get it right. The tipping point in his fall was when he lost the love of his life, Li’l Monk’s mother, Charlene. She had been killed in a botched robbery attempt. When she died, she took a piece of Monk with her and he was never the same. To compensate for her love, he turned to drugs to comfort him. Now the once respected hustler was little more than a creature of the night, skulking in the shadows for his next hit and his next victim. Monk was like a vampire, bleeding the streets for what he needed. Even as a crackhead Big Monk was still a feared man. Cats on the streets knew that when you saw him coming, you either gave him what you had or he’d give you what he had, which would likely be bullets.

  “What you doing outside before sundown?” Li’l Monk asked his father.

  “Trying to get off, E. It was a slow night so I didn’t have nothing to wake up on, which is why I was out here asking your little pit bull to do me a solid.” Monk nodded to Droopy who was on the corner still grilling him.

  “Well the next time you need something, come to me. Don’t be out here pressing my workers about no drugs,” Li’l Monk said.

  “Boy, you know I don’t be out here looking for no handouts. I take what I want, like a real nigga,” Monk capped.

  “I know, you like the Robin Hood of the slums, only you take from the rich and keep all the shit for yourself,” Li’l Monk said sarcastically.

  “Watch your mouth, li’l nigga. You ain’t too big for me to still put these mitts on you.” Monk held up his large, callused hands. They bore the many scars of his wars over the years. He had lost a considerable amount of weight since he had been in the streets, but he still had some of the most intimidating-looking hands Li’l Monk had ever seen.

  “Whatever, Dad. Just don’t be all up on my people like that. It’s not a good look,” Li’l Monk said.

  Monk smiled, showing off his yellowing teeth. “What, you embarrassed to have your new little friends to find out your daddy is a fiend?”

  Li’l Monk twisted his lips disbelievingly. “You know it ain’t even like that with me. What you do is your business. I might not agree with it, but you’re still my father.”

  “Damn right! I’m your daddy and the only blood you got left out here, and don’t you go forgetting it,” Monk told him.

  “Hey, Mr. Monk!” Sophie called from down the street.

  “Hey, baby girl.” Monk waved. Sophie was one of the few people Li’l Monk kept time with who he actually liked. She was a good girl and good for his son. “You know better than to have your lady out here while you doing business,” he told his son.

  “She ain’t gonna be out here at all. She just slid through for a minute,” Li’l Monk told him.

  “You be mindful that you don’t have her out here like that. When your enemy knows what you love, that’ll be the first thing they try to use against you,” Monk said passionately.

  One look at the moisture dancing in the corners of his father’s eyes and Li’l Monk knew where his thoughts were. Rumor had it that the men who had killed his mother had actually come looking for Monk’s stash. Though it was never confirmed, Monk went at them anyway. For what they had done to his wife, Monk killed them in the most gruesome ways he could think of, dragging each death out as long as he could. The last one he saved for Li’l Monk. At the time, Li’l Monk was just a young angry kid, trying to figure out how to cope with the death of his mother, but by forcing him to pull the trigger that night, Monk had turned his son into something else. In stealing his innocence, Monk had uncovered the monster that had been hiding inside his son.

  “You got it, Dad. We’re probably gonna go upstairs and smoke a blunt then I’ll put Sophie in a cab,” Li’l Monk promised.

  Monk smiled. “Good man, way better man than I was at your age. I’m about to go do me, but let me hold a few dollars.”

  “Didn’t I just have Droopy give you some gas for your tank?”

  Monk gave him a look. “And what’s that got to do with anything? Li’l nigga, I took care of you all of your life so I know you ain’t fronting on me over a few funkyass dollars. As a matter of fact, run that before I go up in your pockets like I do the rest of these sissies.” He patted Li’l Monk’s pockets playfully.

  “A’ight, man. You got it.” Li’l Monk laughed, digging in his pocket. He peeled a hundred dollar bill and handed it to his father.

  Monk held the bill up to the light, checking its authenticity. “A bill, huh?” He shoved the money into his pocket. “Ramses must be out here feeding y’all niggas real good.”

  Li’l Monk shrugged. “I’m earning my keep, nothing more and nothing less.”

  “I’ll bet.” Monk sucked his teeth as if he had something stuck between them. It’s something he always did when he was plotting. “Maybe one of these days me and you will pay a visit to Pharaoh’s pad and see what he’s hiding in that castle I hear he lives in. What do ya say, son? Me and you like two desperados riding on these pussies and taking everything they lay claim to.”

  Li’l Monk raised his hands in surrender. “I’m cool on all that mutiny shit, Dad. Pharaoh and Ramses play
fair with me so it’s only right I play fair with them.”

  Monk shook his head sadly. “Loyal as a damn dog. That’s definitely not a quality you got from my side of the family. Have it your way, but if you should ever change your mind I’m sure you know where to find me.” He saluted his boy and left.

  CHAPTER 8

  Dealing with his father always took a lot out of Li’l Monk. Li’l Monk’s heart struggled to understand how a man who had once been of such high standing could’ve fallen so far from grace, but his brain understood his father’s plight. When Monk had everyone he cared about taken from him, he succumbed to hopelessness. There was nothing left for him to fight for. Looking at his father was like looking into a mirror and seeing how Li’l Monk’s life could end up if he didn’t play his cards right. One bad decision could derail your whole game plan.

  Pushing thoughts of his father from his mind, Li’l Monk turned his attention back to Droopy. He was leaning against the traffic light, smoking a cigarette. For as insane as it was to see a child standing on a street corner smoking a cancer stick, nobody gave Droopy a second look.

  “Come here.” Li’l Monk waved Droopy over.

  Droopy took his time, diddy bopping over to Li’l Monk, taking slow drags of his cigarette. Droopy moved like an adult trapped in a child’s body. “Yeah?”

  Li’l Monk plucked the cigarette from Droopy’s mouth and tossed it on the ground. “That’s a disgusting habit.”

  “Shit, Li’l Monk.” Droopy tried to pick the cigarette up to salvage it, but Li’l Monk crushed it under his sneaker. “Man, do you know how much loosies cost?”

  “Instead of complaining, you should be thanking me for saving your life. Fuck that cigarette, I got more pressing shit to holla at you about. Walk with me and let’s talk,” Li’l Monk told him, starting back toward the building where Sophie and Tasha were standing. Li’l Monk gathered his thoughts, thinking of how he wanted to open the conversation. “What you doing out here, Droopy?”