I Use To Love You: A Hood Chick's Revenge (12 page)

The next morning started how our night ended, with my pussy in Jahlil’s mouth. That nigga was smacking on my shit like it was a breakfast omelette while I had my hands pressed against the oak headboard. I don’t know if it was because I was fresh out of my sleep and my pussy was just a little more sensitive or if he’d pulled out all of the pussy eating tricks but I was coming harder than I ever had. The most Ivan made me come was six times and the orgasms were spaced out. This nigga Jahlil made me come eight times, one intense muthafuckin orgasm after the other, without a second to catch my breath in between.

When my eyes rolled to the back of the head I didn’t know if they were ever coming back down. I got to feeling lightheaded, almost like I was going to pass out any moment.

“Baby wait. Please stop. I can’t take it anymore,” I said, out of breath and in between moans. When he kept going I pushed down on his head. “Stop nigga, you heard me.”

He looked up at me laughing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What? Phat Kat is tapping out?”

“Fuck you nigga,” I said, still out of breath and a little dizzy.

“Naw baby. I’m about to fuck you.” Jahlil slid inside of me rough, rugged, and raw. And that’s how he gave it to a bitch. He pinned my knees by my ears and drilled my pussy like it had did him wrong. He beat my shit up until he shot what felt like a ton of nut inside of me. His sweaty ass then had the nerve to collapse on top of me.

“Uh-uh, get yo wet ass up. Ugh, yo ass ain’t light.”

“I ain’t came like that since I was fifteen.” He rolled off of me and was staring at the ceiling with his chest heaving and out of breath.

I don’t know what the hell got into me but I was really feeling that nigga. I just wanted to be as close to him as I could so I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes. I didn’t know what his reaction would be until he began to softly stroke my head. I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face. It felt good to let my guard down and still be safe and secure. It felt good to be vulnerable.

We both wake up a few hours later, all hugged up like a couple on their honeymoon. I couldn’t believe his shit was on brick and he was ready for another round. I was starting to think the nigga had a secret battery pack pushed up in his ass. He had the nerve to pout when I told him there was no way he was getting any more pussy. My shit felt bruised and sore and I was hungry as hell. He had a better chance of fucking Beyonce by that point. After begging and pleading for a while, he finally made peace with the fact that he wasn’t getting any. We sparked up some Indigo Gold, got high as a muthafucka and ordered a bunch of room service.

We jumped our butt naked asses into the jacuzzi and fed each other pancakes and cheese eggs. It was somewhere between breakfast and the chocolate covered strawberries and champagne we had for desert that I realized how much I was really feeling this nigga. Not only did I let this nigga knock the lining out of my pussy, but I had set out my Indigo Gold twice for his ass. I didn’t even do that for my girl, Meka. I started to feel guilty all over again. My girl let me use one of her apartments for a hostage situation and helped me escape when the hood was hot and I couldn’t even set out a little more dro. Feeling guilty got me to thinking about how I hadn’t heard from her ass.

I jumped out of the jacuzzi without drying off and hurried over and grabbed my iPhone from the bed. My ass and titties were bouncing as water dripped off my smooth honey complexion. I didn’t even have to look, I knew Jahlil was sitting in that jacuzzi with his dick standing straight up in the water. I dialed Meka’s number five times back to back. Each time her voicemail picked up.
Where the hell is this bitch? I told her ass to call me back yesterday
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“What’s up with you?” Jahlil asked, paying close attention to me from the jacuzzi.

“My girl, Meka, ain’t answering.”

“I’m sure there’s a million perfectly good reasons for that. Now why don’t you come park that fat ass of yours on my lap?”

I giggled nervously as I got back into the jacuzzi and set my phone on the ledge just in case Meka hit me back.

“You weren’t the only one Ivan threatened to get at if I didn’t get the hell out of the Mil.”

“Meka’s on his hit list too?”

I nodded. “We agreed that she was going to take a little trip on me. Just until shit cooled down. She was suppose to let me know yesterday where she wanted to go.”

“Both of you agreed? Or you agreed?” Jahlil asked after finishing off a glass of champagne and setting the flute on the ledge of the jacuzzi.

“I told you we both agreed.” I folded my arms annoyed a little bit.

“Who suggested this little trip?”

I looked at his ass and took a deep breath. “I did because I’m trying to protect her ass from a straight up psychopath.”

“You sure she really wanted to go?”

I tilted my head to the side and studied his ass with my arms folded. “Yes nigga. Who wouldn’t be geeked about a free trip?”

He scooted close and put his arm around my shoulders. “I’m just trying to get you to relax because I think you might be over-reacting.”

“That’s because you don’t know how dangerous of a muthafucka Ivan is.” I snaked my neck and rolled my eyes.

“And you’re sure Meka wanted to leave town just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

I sighed because I was a stubborn bitch. But I was starting to see what he was getting at. “Meka is a street bitch like me. She ain’t scared of no muthafucka. Her ass was ready to match Ivan bullet for bullet.”

“So you offered to send her on a vacation. That way you can conduct your business without having to worry about what happens to her,” Jahlil said as he tried to fondle my breasts.

I slapped his hand away and reluctantly nodded. His ass was in my head the same way Ivan could be at times.

“What if she just agreed to get you off her back? And now she’s ducking you because she doesn’t feel like running from anybody.”

“I can see that.” And I really could because Meka’s ego was as big as mine. Neither of us could take it if word got back to the streets that we were ducking action. I was going to ring that bitch’s neck if I found out she was hiding from me.

“Feel better baby.” He kissed behind my ear and on my neck.

“Not good enough for you to get any pussy.”

He tried to continue pecking me on the neck but he ended up laughing. “I can’t get one more shot for the road.”

I rolled my eyes and smacked my lips, just playing the role just to play it. “Stand up nigga. I’ma give yo ass some head so you’ll stop cryin’.” That nigga stood up in the water so fast he almost slipped. His dick was rock hard and throbbing like that’s where his heart was located. I put it on that nigga Karrine Superhead Steffans style. I had my hand wrapped around his wood and was flicking my wrist like I was revving a motorcycle. I deep throated that muthafucka with plenty of spit in my mouth and had him coming in no time.

His ass still wanted some pussy once we got out of the jacuzzi. He’s about the most persistent nigga I’d ever met. I jumped in the shower and got dressed. Play time was over. It was time to hit the streets and find Ivan before he found out I wasn’t honoring our deal. It was time to kill or be killed.

Fuck what Jahlil was talking about. I knew my muthafuckin friend. Meka was a hustler, who rarely missed a chance to make money. The bitch was even known to be in her shop at two or three in the morning with a blunt in her mouth while jacking on the phone and doing a client’s hair. So when I rolled down Center Street and saw that her brand new pink customized Malibu was not parked out front, I knew something was wrong.

I parked the Charger and went into the shop to holla at Don. My heart sunk when he told me he hadn’t spoke to her since last night. She mentioned that she was going out to Gene’s to celebrate. He figured her ass was too drunk to come in early and just went ahead and opened the shop for the day. Meka’s ass could drink with the best of them when she got in that mode. What Don was telling me was believable.

At least that was what I wanted to believe. Ivan and Kim K. might’ve been alive and kicking but they were dead to me. The nigga I was in love with and my best friend were gone in the blink of a muthafuckin eye. I didn’t want to think about what it would be like to lose my girl, Meka. I was afraid of snapping the fuck out and never being able to come back. I stood in front of Don’s barber’s chair, watching him work on a real young kid’s taper. His mother, a bitch around my age, was standing on the other side of the barber’s chair.

She had been flirting with Don until I walked in. Her punk ass kept shooting me dirty looks as if I was trying to cut in on her action. I gave her the once over like we do in the hood when we think the muthafucka we’re beefing with isn’t any competition. The made up ass bitch had on one of those incredibly long hair wigs. The kind where you instantly knew it wasn’t her real shit. She was also rocking long fake eyelashes that were so curvy they damn near touched her forehead. Any other time I would’ve laughed at the way she kept batting them fake muthafuckas all dramatic like. Then she had the nerve to pierce both of her lower cheeks and her bottom lip. Only cute bitches could pull that off.

I wanted to tell her so pale ass to the point she was damn near pink, that she wasn’t cute at all with her fake Coco Chanel bag and bright ass purple nails. But I was concentrating on Don the Barber. He seemed calm enough on the surface. Hopefully that was because he had nothing to hide. I was convinced that if something happened to my girl, Don’s tongue was to blame. Meka practically told Don everything, because he was her right hand and she would’ve needed him to run the shop while she was gone on the trip.

I marched past the other barbers and beauticians, all working on customers’ heads. But Sean and Drake’s “Blessing” were coming through the shop’s speakers. I was in a festive atmosphere with murder on my mind. I was a bitch with an attitude and if something had happened to my girl, Don, Ivan, Kim K., and anybody else who got in my way was going to die.

My heart was pounding against my chest the moment I turned onto Meka’s block. The tears started falling by the time I was parking across the street from her crib. On the drive over I kept telling myself not to jump to any conclusions and to be positive. All of that shit went out of the window when I saw the two story flat she’d put so much money and time into. She gave me a tour of the place right after she finalized the deal.

It needed so much work that at the time I couldn’t see her vision. Meka was so geeked up that she didn’t even notice. She just went on and remodeled that muthafucka from the ground up just like she did with her shop. Once that bitch got her mind set on a goal it was a wrap. She could’ve easily took all of the cash she was putting into that spot and got a smaller crib in the suburbs with a much higher property value. Meka threw her middle finger up at that idea. A lot of the houses on the east side are old but big, with four or five rooms and a lot of space on the inside. A little bit of cash could convert it into a ghetto mansion.

Booth Street just off North Avenue was almost like a line that divided the two very different parts of the east side. The ghetto was on one side and the UW-Milwaukee campus, rich muthafuckas living on the lake, and weirdo types who rocked hippie gear were on the other. Meka liked the idea of having the best of both worlds at her doorstep. I took a long look at her red brick and white home while I did my best to wipe the tears away. Which was hard because they kept coming. I finally said fuck it. What was the use when you were heartbroken? I tucked my nine milli into the waistline of my Robin jeans and covered it with my matching t-shirt and climbed out of the Charger.

I let the tears fall as I made my way across the street. The back door was open just like I knew it would be. This was my punishment for not honoring our deal. My stomach was in knots and my bottom lip was trembling when I walked into the back door. My vision was blurry because the tears were coming down so hard. I collapsed to my knees and started crying like a baby when I saw the message Ivan left for me. It was written in smeared blood across the white tile of her kitchen floor: Did You Really Expect To See Her Body? Jahlil Is Next
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I yelled at the top of my lungs and cried like a baby. I made up for all of the times I held it in as a shorty. The abuse and danger I constantly was up against forced me to grow up fast. Crying was useless because nobody was coming to my rescue. Nobody was going to wrap their arms around me and tell me everything was going to be okay. Nobody was there to console me that day either but I still cried like a muthafucka. A bitch felt she owed it to herself. I got out what I needed purged from my system before I called Jahlil.

“I was just thinking about your sexy ass.”

“Jahlil, where are you?” I asked, as I climbed to my feet.

“What’s wrong? Why do you sound like that?”

“He killed Meka. Meka is dead.”

He was quiet for a second or two.

“Jahlil? Are you still there?” I was panicking a little.

“Yes. Alright, try to calm down. Where are you?”

“That’s why I called…” I got cut off by a loud crashing sound.

“Jahlil! Can yo hear me?!” I could hear a moaning sound, followed by what sounded like gun shots and glass shattering. Then the phone went dead. I must’ve dialed his number a hundred times, only for it to keep going straight to voicemail.

I ran out of Meka’s crib like a member of the Taliban. My strap was still in my hand. I didn’t give a fuck about any witnesses. Too much blood was on my hands. Adrienne, Meka, and probably Jahlil from what it sounded like. What would it have mattered if I murked one, two, or a whole block of nosy muthafuckas? I smashed off in the Charger barely able to see five feet in front of me. All of the tears had my vision blurry. I drove to Meka’s shop with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my nine milli.

Don ratting to Ivan about Meka’s trip was something I should’ve thought of. I’d been worried about that nigga’s mouth since I got back in town. That’s what happens when you’re too busy sucking and fucking. You end up missing an angle. Nobody panicked when I walked in the shop with the nine milli in my hand. Every single soul in that muthafucka kept their eyes on me. In the hood you always watch the shooter. But nobody was ducking for cover or running for their life. Bullets fly every day in the ghetto. While no one wants to die, the drama is like must see TV.

Don wasn’t at his barber’s station. I scanned every inch of the shop. Rich Homie Quan was blasting through the speakers. An NBA game was on the eighty inch flat screen in the small waiting area. I must’ve looked at every face in the shop before I snatched open the bathroom door. I did the same with the door to the storage room. The muthafucka wasn’t in either. I marched over to Rico’s station. The cat Meka had just hired not too long ago. His chair was right next to Don’s. I didn’t even have to say shit.

Between the tears and murder in my eyes he knew I wasn’t there to play games. He told me Don left ten minutes after I had. He dropped off Ms. Fake Ass Bitch’s son after he was done cutting his hair. Then him and Ms. Fake Ass Bitch were going to get something to eat. This was Don we were talking about. Which meant he bought the bitch a burger and took her ass straight to his bedroom. I marched out of the shop even more pissed than when I came. There was no telling how long that muthafucka was going to be. Niggas were unpredictable when it came to pussy. I wanted to kill at that got damn moment. I climbed back into the Charger and slammed the door.

Jahlil’s cellphone was still going to voicemail when I tried to call. I didn’t know what the fuck to do. I didn’t know where the fuck to go. All types of whips were zooming by on Center Street. I needed just one to be Don’s Cadillac Ext. I needed to find Ivan and Kim K. I needed someone to kill.