Boss Divas (31 page)

1.
Lucifer was on a murderous rampage to avenge the death of her brother. Do you think that she took things too far?

2.
Do you think Captain Hydeya Hawkins was promoted because she was qualified for the job or that the city believed that she would be easy to manipulate?

3.
Qiana is clearly in over her head. Do you think that it was a wise idea to have kept the baby? Why do you think she really kept the child?

4.
Python's mysterious cousin, Diesel, seems to be slinking around the edges and even frightens his Aunt Peaches. Do you think he has a hidden agenda or do you believe he really has Python's back?

5.
Do you think Shariffa's actions are more about taking over the street game or a vendetta against the Gangster Disciples?

6.
Mason has returned from the dead. Had he not, do you think that Lucifer would have been able to maintain her position? Do you think that Profit would've challenged her for the throne?

7.
Ta'Shara's safe world has been turned upside down. Now that she's been accepted into the Flowers, do you think that she'll find the courage to get out or succumb to the gang life?

8.
Do you think that LeShelle's attraction to Diesel is because of his power, or is it sexual?

9.
Momma Peaches tried to turn her life around, but she doesn't seem to be able to catch a break. Do you think that she did the right thing in trying to bring the brothers together?

M
y eyes pop open in the semi-darkness and I catch the gleam of a steel blade as it makes a sweeping arch down onto the bed. Instinct kicks in. I roll to the other side of the bed instead of reaching for the gun tucked underneath the pillow.

The knife slices into the pillow-top mattress with a muted
thump!
And
RIP!

I keep rolling and crash over the left side of the bed. The gravitational pull is cruel and I hit the hardwood floor at an alarming speed and belly first. Pain shoots through every limb of my body. I struggle to block it out as my hand flails to the piece tucked into the nightstand, but my movements aren't as quick as normal.

“Grrrrrrrrrrgh!” My attacker leaps over the bed and grabs a fistful of my hair before trying to yank it out of my scalp.

Another bolt of pain rips through me while cartoon stars spin behind my eyes. Before I can get that shit to stop, my head is mashed into the wall. I make a big dent into that muthafucka because I taste bits of plaster. Balling my fist, I strike out and sock this bitch dead in her pussy—my first clue that my attacker is indeed a woman.

She grunts, but the punch has less effect than if my attacker had been the opposite sex. It's enough for her to release her hold on my head for a millisecond, and I'm able to sweep my arm out and hit those knees.

She drops like a stone.

I spring up on this bitch, but I lose a millisecond when something warm rushes down my inner thigh. A punch squares across my jaw and knocks my ass to the left, where I trip over the foot of the bed.

More cartoon stars.
This bitch is pissing me off.

My attacker launches toward me again. I block her first two blows, keeping my elbows together, like Bishop taught me. When I come out from behind an arm shield, I wail on this bitch like a heavyweight champion. In no time, I pin her to the floor, my fist as bloody as my thighs.

She whimpers.

While I got this bitch under the moonlight spilling through the window, I snatch the wool mask from her head. When her hair stops tumbling out, I'm shocked.
Shariffa?

This bitch ain't this muthafuckin' bold.
But there's not a damn thing wrong with my eyes.

Enraged, I wrap my hands around Shariffa's neck and squeeze with everything I got. “You stupid bitch!” My arms tremble as my grip tightens.

“ACK. GACK.” She chokes, clawing at my hands.

“That's right. Let me hear death rattle around in your chest. When you're gone, I'm going to take my fucking time peeling and slicing your ass from your head to your toe.”

“ACK. GAAACK.”

“There's not going to be anything left of your treacherous ass. I'm going to make damn sure of that shit.”

“ACK. GAAAACK!”

This bitch is seconds away from passing from this world to the other when an ungodly pain shots up from abdomen and straight to my brain.

“Aaaaaargh!” The scream is out of my throat before I have a chance to stop it. Then it happens again and I pitch over and hit the floor, gripping my belly.

I'm only mildly aware of Shariffa coughing and wheezing in air next to me.

Pull it together. Pull it together.
But I can't.
The baby!
Shariffa scrambles for the knife.

Somehow I swing out an arm and grab her ankle. She trips with a loud
thump!

Desperate, Shariffa kicks me with her free leg. My head. My neck—and then a firm kick straight to my belly.

“Aaaaaaargh!”
This dirty bitch.
But she's going to win this battle. The knife glistens in the moonlight before it makes its second swinging arch straight toward my baby.

From
Fistful of Benjamins

By Kiki Swinson & De'nesha Diamond
Available October 2014 wherever books and eBooks are sold.

“O
h my God, Eduardo. What do you think they will do to us? I don't want to die . . . I can't leave my son,” I cried, barely able to get my words out between sobbing and the fact that my teeth were chattering together so badly.

The warehouse type of room we were being held captive in was freezing. I mean freezing like we were sitting inside of a meat locker type of freezing. I could even see puffs of frosty air with each breath that I took. I knew it was summertime outside, so the conditions inside where we were being held told me we were purposely being made to freeze.The smell of sawdust and industrial chemicals were also so strong that the combination was making my stomach churn. Eduardo flexed his back against mine and turned his head as much as the ropes that bound us together allowed. He was trembling from the subzero conditions as well.

“Gabby, just keep your mouth shut. If we gon' die right now, at least we are together. I know I ain't say it a lot, but I love you. I love you for everything you did and put up with from me. I am sorry I ever let you get into this bullshit from the jump. It wasn't no place for you from day one, baby girl,” Eduardo whispered calmly through his battered lips. With everything that had happened, I didn't know how he was staying so calm. It was like he had no emotion behind what was happening or like he had already resigned himself to the fact that we were dead. In my opinion, his ass should've been crying, fighting, and yelling for the scary men to let me go. Something. Eduardo was the drug dealer, not me, so maybe he had prepared himself to die many times. I hadn't ever prepared myself to die, or to be tied up like an animal, beaten, and waiting to possibly get my head blown off. This was not how I saw my life ending up. All I had ever wanted was a good man, a happy family, a nice place to live, and just a good life.

“I don't care about being together when we die, Eduardo! You forget I have a son? Who is going to take care of him if I'm dead over something I didn't do?” I replied sharply. A pain shot through my skull like someone had shot me in the head. I was ready to lose it. My shoulders began quaking as I broke down in another round of sobs. I couldn't even feel the pain that had previously permeated my body from the beating I had taken. I was numb in comparison to the pain I was feeling in my heart behind leaving my son. I kept thinking about my son and my mother, who were probably both sitting in a strange place wondering how I had let this happen to them. That was the hard part, knowing that they were going to be innocent casualties of my stupid fucking actions. I should've stuck to carrying mail instead of stepping into the shit that had me in this predicament. I was the dummy in this situation. I was so busy looking for love in all the wrong places. I had done all of this to myself.

“Shhh. Don't cry. We just have to pray that Luca will have mercy on us. I will try to make him believe that it wasn't us. I'll tell him we didn't do it. We weren't responsible for everything that happened,” Eduardo whispered to me.

“But he's the one who got us out so fast. I keep thinking that he only did that because he thought we might start talking. He got us out just so he could kill us, don't you see that? We are finished. Done. Dead,” I said harshly. The tears were still coming. It was like Eduardo couldn't get what I was saying. We were both facing death and I wasn't ready to die!

“You don't know everything. Maybe it was something else. Let me handle—” Eduardo started to tell me, but his words were clipped short when we both heard the sound of footsteps moving towards us. The footsteps sounded off like gunshots against the icy cold concrete floors. My heart felt like it would explode through the bones in my chest and suddenly it felt like my bladder was filled to capacity. The footsteps stopped. I think I stopped breathing too. Suddenly, I wasn't cold anymore. Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing fiercely through my veins, but suddenly I was burning up hot.

“Eduardo Santos,” a man's voice boomed. “Look at you now. All caught up in your own web.” The man had a thick accent, the kind my older uncles from Puerto Rico had when they tried really hard to speak English.

“Luca . . . I . . . I . . . can . . .” Eduardo stuttered, his body trembling so hard it was making mine move. Now I could sense fear and anguish in Eduardo's voice. That was the first time Eduardo had sounded like he understood the seriousness of our situation.

“Shut up!” the man screamed. “You are a rat and in Mexico rats are killed and burned so that the dirty spirit does not corrupt anything around it,” the man called Luca screamed. I squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn't keep the tears from bursting from the sides.

I was too afraid to even look at him. I kept my head down, but I had seen there were at least four more pairs of feet standing around. Eduardo and I had been working for this man and had never met him. I knew he was some big drug kingpin inside the Calixte Mexican drug cartel that operated out of Miami, but when I was making the money, I never thought of meeting him, especially not under these circumstances. I was helping this bastard get rich and couldn't even pick him out of a police lineup if my life depended on it.

“Please, Luca. I'm telling you I wasn't the rat. Maybe it was Lance . . . I mean, I just worked for him. He was the one responsible to you. He was the one that kept increasing everything. I did everything I could to keep this from happening,” Eduardo pleaded his case, the words rushing out of his mouth.

“Oh, now you blame another man? Another cowardly move. Eduardo, I have people inside of the DEA who work for me. I know everything. If I didn't pay off the judge to set bail so I could get you and your little girlfriend out of there, you were prepared to sign a deal. You were prepared to tell everything. Like the fucking cock-sucking rat that you are. You know nothing about death before dishonor. You would've sold out your own mother to get out of there. You failed the fucking test, you piece of shit,” Luca spat, sucking his teeth. “Get him up,” Luca said calmly, apparently unmoved by Eduardo's pleas.

“Luca! Luca! Give me another chance, please!” Eduardo begged, his voice coming out as a shrill scream. His words exploded like bombs in my ears. Another chance? Did that mean that Eduardo had snitched? Did that mean he put me in danger when I was only doing everything he ever told me to do? Did Eduardo sign my death sentence without even telling me what the fuck he was going to do? I immediately thought about my family again. These people obviously knew where I lived and where they could find my mother and my son even after they went back home. A wave of cramps trampled through my guts. Before I could control it, vomit spewed from my lips like lava from a volcano.

“What did you do to me, Eduardo?” I coughed and screamed through tears and vomit. I couldn't help it. I didn't care anymore. They were going to kill me anyway, right? “You fucking snitch! What did you do?” I gurgled. I had exercised more loyalty than Eduardo had. The men that were there to kill us said nothing and neither did Eduardo. I felt like someone had kicked me in the chest and the head right then. My heart was broken.

Two of Luca's goons cut the ropes that had kept Eduardo and I bound together. It was like they had cut the strings to my heart too. Eduardo didn't even look at me as they dragged him away screaming. I fell over onto my side, too weak to sit up on my own. Eduardo had betrayed me in the worse way. I was just a pawn in a much, much bigger game. And all for what? A few extra dollars a week that I didn't have anything to show for now except maybe some expensive pocketbooks, a few watches, some shoes and an apartment I was surely never going to see again. Yes, I had been living ghetto fabulous, shopping for expensive things that I could've never imagined in my wildest dreams, but I had lost every dollar that I had ever stashed away for my son as “just in case” money. I had done all of this for him and in the end I had left him nothing.

“Please. Please don't kill me,” I begged through a waterfall of tears as I curled my body into a fetal position.With renewed spirit to see my son, I begged and pleaded for my life. I told them I wasn't a snitch and that I had no idea what Eduardo had done. I got nothing in response. There was a lot of Spanish being spoken, but I could only understand a fraction of it; so much for listening to my mother when she tried speaking Spanish to me all of my life.

“I promise I didn't speak to any DEA agents or the police. Please tell Luca that it wasn't me,” I cried some more, pleading with the men that were left there to guard me. None of the remaining men acted like they could hear me. In my assessment, this was it. I was staring down a true death sentence. I immediately began praying. If my mother, a devout Catholic, had taught me nothing else, she had definitely taught me how to pray.

“Hail Mary full of Grace . . .” I mumbled, closing my eyes and preparing for my impending death. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was thrust backwards in my mind, reviewing how I'd ever let the gorgeous, smooth talking Eduardo Santos get my gullible ass into this mess.