Hustlin' Divas (22 page)

“B
ABY, COME BACK!”

My head pops up from my pillow. “What in the world?”

Arzell's thick lips spring off my fat clit as he pulls the covers back from over his head. “Forget about all that noise. Just lay back and relax.” He grins devilishly and then slides his hands beneath my ass so he can lift and plow back into his afternoon dessert.

“Oooh, sheeiiit.” I rotate my hips, smashing my pussy against his open mouth so that Arzell's tongue gets in there good and deep. “Clean all that juice up, nigga. Ahhhh.” My boo hits my magic spot and honey gushes out of my body. I quiver and shake and then quiver some more.

Arzell eats it up like a starving nigga from a third world country, smacking and slurping the whole way. I thrash around so much that I know I must look like I'm having an epileptic fit. Even then, Arzell climbs up my body, hikes up my one and a half legs, and enters me with such deft precision that I come on his first stroke.

My mind spins. This young nigga is going to be the end of me, but if a bitch has to go, then there's no better way than coming to death. An hour later, we're covered in sweat and smoking one of Baby's special blunts.

Arzell passes the blunt over and then reaches in between my legs and gives my sopping pussy a good squeeze. “How you feeling, Ma?”

“You know you handled your business, Daddy.” I smile dreamily and blow a stream of smoke up toward the ceiling.

A wide smile stretches across Arzell's face as he drinks me in with his adoring eyes. “You know…I've been thinking.”

“Was that what that smell was?” I laugh and cuddle closer. There are just no words to describe how it feels for a woman my age to have a young, beautiful, and virile body lying next to her.

“Ha-ha.” He props himself up higher on the pillows. “Be serious for a minute, Ma.”

I catch the serious look in the young brother's eyes and am instantly worried. I know that look. I've seen it on countless lovers before him. “No. No. No.”

Arzell frowns. “No what? You don't even know what I'm about to say.”

“Actually, I do.” I pry myself away from the comfortable nook beneath his arm. “Do me a favor and let's not talk. Let's just float on this high for a while.”

“But—”

“Tomorrow,” I say. “I promise.”

Disappointment washes over Arzell's handsome face. Clearly he doesn't want to wait and lose his nerve, and unfortunately, that's exactly what I'm hoping will happen. I try to take another toke off the addictive blunt but notice that the flame has died out. “Hand me that lighter off the nightstand,” I instruct Arzell, since he's the closest.

Arzell grabs the red Bic and tries to flick it on. “It's empty.” He sits up.

“There's another one inside the drawer.”

He opens the drawer and rummages around. “Hey. Who's this?” He picks up a frame. “Humph. She's pretty. Is she related to you?”

I roll my eyes. “I asked you to grab a lighter, not to get all up in my business.” I reach over and grab the damn lighter myself.

Arzell steals another peek at the picture, but clearly he knows better than to ask me about it again. Instead of putting the frame back in the drawer, he sits it on top of the nightstand and climbs out of bed.

“Where are you going?” I ask, suspicious that he's getting away from me because I have somehow hurt his delicate feelings.

“I'm hitting the shower,” he says with a serious attitude.

“Whatever,” I mumble under my breath, and flick on the lighter and inhale another much-needed hit. “These damn kids today.” I toss the light over at the nightstand and hit the picture frame. Glancing over, I sigh at the sight of my smiling sister. I don't remember exactly when that picture was taken, but I certainly remember the last time I saw Alice….

 

I worried about Alice's sudden interest in motherhood, mainly because she had dumped responsibility of her firstborn into my lap. Now her desire to be ghetto baby momma of the year stemmed solely from her wanting to prove that if I could do something, then so could she. That shit was questionable—especially since every time I did a roll-by of her Section 8 apartment in LeMoyne Gardens, the place was a total wreck and reeked of dirty diapers, spoiling food, and just outright BO.

Alice complained endlessly about not getting enough sleep or not having enough time to just take a decent bath, but whenever I offered to babysit, I would get accused of trying to steal custody of Mason. It was pointless to remind her that she was the one who had willy-nilly given up custody of Terrell and that it wasn't some sneaky, underhanded maneuver on my part. But facts didn't have a place in Alice's drug-induced perception.

Plus, Alice was being very secretive about Mason's father. Rumors circulated that it could've been anyone, since what my sister did to support her crack habit was the stuff of legends. Though my help wasn't wanted or welcomed, I still felt that it was my duty to check on my newest nephew.

“I say leave her alone,” Isaac said as he shoved more bricks of cocaine into the deep freezer. “If the bitch doesn't want to be bothered, then don't bother her.”

“I know, but I think that baby is sick. Every time I call, I can hear him screaming in the background. It ain't normal for no baby to holler like that all the damn time.” I crammed my arm through the sleeve of my sweater. “I'm just going to run over real quick, and then I'll come back and start dinner.”

Isaac gave up. “Fine. She's your sister. Just take Terrell with you because I gotta go handle some business over off Lamar.” He grabbed his gat. “It shouldn't take too long, but I don't want lil man to get caught in the crosshairs.”

“No problem. He's been driving me crazy about seeing his little brother again anyway. I just hope his momma will open the door and let us in.” I kissed my husband on the cheek and headed out the door. “TERRELL!” I shouted, coming down my porch stairs. I spotted him across the street, playing with his best friend KyJuan. “Terrell, c'mon now. We gotta go!”

A door banged from off to my left, and I whipped my head around.

“I DONE TOLD YOU ABOUT TALKIN' BACK TO ME, GIRL!” Eddie, Betty's always drunk and deranged man of the moment, stumbled out of the house after a scrawny Yolanda.

“GET BACK HERE, YOU LIL BITCH!” Eddie waved a broken beer bottle. “I'LL TEACH YOU NOT TO TALK BACK!”

“What the fuck?” I raced over.

“MOMMY!” Yo-Yo screamed.

“Get away from that child,” I demanded, not even thinking when I retrieved the switchblade from my thigh and swish, swish, swish.

“AWWW. FUCK!” Eddie hit the ground, grabbing the side of his face where his left ear used to be. “SHE CUT ME! THAT BITCH CUT ME!”

Suddenly Betty found it fit to come running out of the house, shrieking in outrage. “EDDIE! EDDIE!” She dropped to her knees beside him and was quickly covered in blood. “What the hell did you do?” She glared up at me accusingly. “YOU BITCH!”

I blinked at the stupid heifer and then went back to waving my switchblade. “Now you can get a little bit of this, too, if you want. I ain't about to be too many bitches out here.”

Betty clamped her mouth shut and went about trying to help her man. “C'mon, now, honey. Let me help you up.”

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” Eddie shoved her away and rolled himself off the ground. “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY EAR?”

Lil Yolanda started laughing.

I glanced over at the bony child and frowned. “Chile, is you all right?” That shit just made the girl laugh even harder. I stepped back. That girl wasn't all there.

Terrell ran up behind me, nosy to see what was going on. Hell, the whole block was pouring out of they houses to see what the hell was going on. Terrell looked at Yolanda like she was crazy. “Mama Peaches, what's wrong with her?” he asked.

“Don't worry about it, baby. C'mon.” I returned the switchblade to my thigh garter and reached for Terrell's hand. But I jumped back when my hand brushed against something scaly. “What the fuck?”

Terrell beamed up at me as he held up a green grass snake. “This is Python,” he bragged. “Me and KyJuan found him in his backyard. “Can we keep him?”

I rolled my eyes. My nephew had gone overboard ever since Isaac had told him to embrace his fears.

“Boy, I don't care. C'mon, let's go see your momma.”

The ride out to LeMoyne Gardens was always interesting. Some hood nigga was cliquing up and starting to rise against the Black Gangster Disciples. Those lil ghetto hood rats were tagging damn near everything that stood still, and rolling through their territory was starting to be like going through inspection at the Mexican border.

Terrell glared at the cocky niggas but knew not to throw up the signs that repped Isaac's set. When we climbed the deep staircase up to Alice's apartment, Terrell wound and unwound Python around his wrist. “I'm gonna get me a gun and shoot all them niggas,” he said under his breath.

“You ain't gonna do no such thing,” I hissed, and tugged him along. I knocked on Alice's door. We waited for what seemed like forever before I banged again…and then again.

“Maybe she's not home,” Terrell said, fidgeting.

“Maybe,” I said, mainly because I didn't hear Mason screaming his little head off. I started to give up and walk away when something told me to try the door.

It was unlocked.

Curious and concerned, I pushed open the door and poked my head inside. “Hello? Alice?”

No answer.

I crept into the apartment. “ALICE. HEEEELLLLOOO.” I closed the door behind me and Terrell. A sound came from somewhere on the sofa in the living room. It took a moment, but I finally made out Alice lying facedown. “Alice?” I moved over to my sister and brushed back her hair. “Are you sick?”

“Hmmm?” Alice smacked her lips together and peered up at me. “Oh, hey, May.” She tried to sit up. “Whatcha doin' here?”

I frowned. “Are you high?” I glanced over to the coffee table just as Terrell picked up his mother's glass pipe. “Give me that.” I snatched the pipe from him.

Alice sighed and spoke drowsily. “Why didn't you call? I would've cleaned or…something.” She swiped some clothes off the cushion next to her. “Sit down. Sit down.”

I placed a hand under my nose. My sister smelled like she hadn't taken a shower in weeks; in fact, the apartment reeked of shitty diapers and spoiling food. “Where's the baby?”

Alice stretched and scratched at her crotch. “Hmmm?”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up at attention. “Terrell, stay right here.” I took off running toward the baby's room. It was just as cluttered and foul-smelling at the rest of the house. More importantly, Mason wasn't in his bed. I turned and raced toward Alice's bedroom. It was just as messy, and my nephew wasn't in there either. I searched the bathroom—nothing.

Don't panic. Don't panic. I rushed back into the living room where my sister was preparing to light up her pipe again. “Alice, where's Mason?”

“Oh, um, he's…he's back there sleep.” Alice flicked on the lighter.

“No. He's. Not. Where is he?”

“Shit. I don't know.” She moved the flame over her precious crack rocks, but before she could pull a good toke, I slammed the whole thing out of her hands. “STOP THAT SHIT AND LISTEN TO ME!”

“HEY!”

I grabbed my sister by the front of her sweatshirt and jerked her up from the sofa. “Mason is not here,” I hissed. “Where the fuck is he?”

Alice tried to pull herself free. “Let…go.”

In response, I smacked the shit out of her. “FOCUS, GODDAMN IT!”

“Oww. Stop,” Alice whined, still trying to pull herself free. “What the fuck do you want?”

Oh. My. God! “Alice, I need for you to think reeeeaaallly hard. When was the last time you saw Mason?”

My sister seemed confused by the question. “Mason?”

I glanced over at my nephew. “Terrell, get me the phone. I'm calling the police.”

Alice's eyes grew wide. “Whoa. Whoa, why you gonna call the po-po on me?” She finally snatched herself loose and scrambled to gather her crack rocks. “You can't bring those pigs up in here. Are you crazy?”

I looked at my sister, but I hardly recognized the wild-eyed crazy woman who was shoving drugs into her pocket. “Alice, where did you get the drugs?”

“None of your damn business!” She swiped at her running nose. “You think I'm gonna tell you so your snitching ass can tell the po-po? Get the fuck out of here with that shit.”

“Here you go, Momma Peaches.” Terrell handed me the cordless phone and then stared at his mother, who'd retrieved her glass pipe and lighter from off the floor.

Angry and fighting back tears, I did something that I never thought I would ever do: I called the police. An hour later, still no one could get an answer out of Alice as to what happened to her baby, even though now she was coming down out of her high and panic was starting to settle in.

“He was here—I swear he was here,” Alice repeated, glancing around. “I just…got a little taste, you know. Just to calm my nerves,” she stressed to the officer who was snapping handcuffs around her wrists. “You don't understand. He wouldn't stop crying, and I just needed something to make me relax.”