A Gangsta Twist Saga (2 page)

Sacha Carbajal stepped out of the office building of Johnson & Whitney, the law firm she was working for, feeling extremely excited. She had just been told by the partners that she was next in line for a partnership. Finally, after six years of hard work, it was about to happen for her. She smiled happily as she strolled toward her brand-new 2006 BMW 325i. She was on her way to the top, and it felt great! Once she was inside of her car, she pulled out her cell phone and called her best friend, Gwen.

Gwen answered her phone after the third ring. “Hello?”

“What it do, bitch?” yelled Sacha.

“What it do, ho? Did you get it?” asked Gwen.

“I think so, girl. I'll know for sure sometime next week. Mr. Whitney told me that I was definitely next in line, and as long as nothing drastic occurs, I should be a partner soon.”

“I'm so happy for you, girl! Congratulations!”

“Save that shit for later. Nothing is written in stone yet, but I'm still feeling giddy all over. We need to go out tonight. Do you have any plans?”

“Nope. What, you want to hit Bricktown and hang out a little?”

“Uh-uh. I'm trying to kick it with my peoples tonight. Let's go to that club you told me about a couple of months back.”

“Bitch, I know you ain't talking about Club Cancun, the same club that has nothing but hoochie hoes and wannabe ballers!” Gwen said sarcastically.

“All right, so I wasn't feeling it at first, but I'm in the mood to party with my peoples. I'm tired of hanging with the squares and those uppity-ass white people.”

Laughing, Gwen said, “Now, ain't that something! Bitch, you're just as square as those uppity-ass white people! The only reason you still have a little hood left in your ass is because of me. Sometimes I think you've forgotten where you came from. But I ain't tripping. If you want to do the club, I'm with it. But we're going to have to go get some gear for tonight, 'cause I know you ain't got nothing in that uppity-ass closet of yours.”

“Yeah, you're right. Meet me at Penn Square Mall in thirty, ho.”

“Gotcha, bitch,” Gwen said, and hung up the phone.

Gwen and Sacha had been best friends for over twenty years. They both graduated at the top of their classes in high school; then they went to Oklahoma State and graduated at the top of their classes there too. That's when their paths seemed to split. While Sacha went on to law school, Gwen got pregnant and had her son, Remel. Sacha tried her best to get Gwen to go back to school so she could follow her dreams, but the love bug had bitten her best friend too hard. Nothing anyone could say would deter Gwen from the love of her life. William had walked into Gwen's life and changed her forever.

Thinking back about the past almost caused tears to fill Sacha's eyes as she drove toward the mall.
Life just wasn't fair sometimes,
she thought as she remembered the day Gwen's life got turned completely upside down.

It had been raining all day and Gwen didn't feel like doing anything, so she had asked William to pick up Remel from day care after he got off of work. The rainy day had her in a funky mood, so she chose to sit back and relax a little. She began to doze off, and eventually fell asleep.

The next thing Gwen remembered was being awakened by banging at her front door. She got up groggily and went to see who was beating on her door like they were out of their damn minds. When she saw that it was her girl, Sacha, she smiled and opened the door. As soon as she saw Sacha's face, she knew that something was wrong. Her makeup was smeared, and she was shaking uncontrollably. “What's wrong, Sacha?” she asked as she brought her into her home and sat her down in her living room.

Tears rolled silently down Sacha's cheeks as she gathered the nerve to tell her best friend in the world that her son and husband were dead.

Sacha remembered Gwen's screams as if it were yesterday. She prayed to the Almighty that she'd never hear another person scream like that ever again. After calming Gwen down a little, she explained what had happened and how she came to be at the horrible scene.

William was pulling out of the driveway of the day-care center when he was hit head-on by a drunk driver. The drunk driver, William, and baby Remel all died instantly. Sacha was on her way home and just so happened to see everything. When she realized that William and Remel were inside of the car and Gwen wasn't, she remembered feeling slightly relieved. The guilt of that thought still haunted her to this very day. She jumped back into her car and drove as fast as she could to her best friend's home.

As Sacha pulled into the mall's parking lot, she smiled sadly as she thought about how her girl got herself back together from such a devastating loss. Gwen was never one to mope. As hard as it was for her, she got back on her feet, went back to school and got her bachelor's degree, as well as her master's. Her original goal was to be an attorney just like Sacha, but after losing her baby and the love of her life, she chose psychology as her major. She wanted to help people. She opened her own office and started helping others and healing herself all at the same time. She'd never blamed that drunk driver for taking her family away from her; she always blamed herself for being too lazy that day. She felt that if she had gone and picked up Remel like she always did, her family would be with her to this very day. She didn't use that as an excuse; she used that to motivate herself.

She was the most driven woman that Sacha had ever known, and it was her strength that helped Sacha continue on at Johnson & Whitney, Attorneys at Law. Many times she had considered quitting and joining another law firm because she felt as if her talents were being overlooked. But Gwen rode her hard and told her to never quit. “Stay down, girl. Everything will be all right, and don't you give up on me, bitch!” Gwen yelled at her every time she felt weak. And now, finally after six years, the hard work was finally paying off, and Sacha owed it all to her girl, the strongest woman alive. So, it was only fitting that they spend the evening together, having a good time.

As she got out of her car, she smiled as Gwen's thick-ass strolled to meet her at the front of the Dillard's department store in the mall.
She's living her life to the fullest after all of the pain she's been through, damnit! I'm about to start doing the same damn thing,
she said to herself as she stepped toward her best friend.

“What's up, bitch? Come on, I got an idea of what we're going to wear tonight,” Gwen said as she pulled Sacha into the mall.

“I don't need your ass picking out my clothes, ho. I know what I like, and it damn sure ain't that hoochie shit you be liking to wear.”

“Humph! That's why your ass don't have a man now. Look at you, with that power suit and power look. Bitch, you ain't at court! Yo' wanna be Johnny Cochran-ass gots to loosen up. Tonight, we're gonna let this city see exactly what you're working with. And I ain't talking about no slutty shit . . . well, a little slutty . . . but with class, baby. Now, come on.” Gwen took Sacha into the Buckle, a small store in the mall, and led her straight to a bunch of skimpy dresses.

Sacha stared at some of the dresses and started shaking her head. “Uh-uh! I know you don't think you're about to get me into any of that! Ho, you gots to be out of your fucking mind! It's too damn cold to be wearing that type of shit, Gwen!”

“Would you shut the fuck up? It ain't that damn cold, bitch. Look at this. Now tell me this ain't a fly-ass mini hookup,” she said as she held up a one-piece Apple Bottoms skirt. It was all black, with the words “Apple Bottoms” going across the middle in gold lettering. “Bitch, if Melyssa can sport this bitch, so can you. If you want to turn some heads tonight, then this is the bad boy to do it in.”

“Who said anything about turning some damn heads? All I want to do is go out and have some fun, and I don't need no damn man to do that.”

“You see, that's what I'm talking about. Your ass is in denial. Has that square-ass nigga at your firm gotten up the nerve to get at you yet?”

“Who are you talking about? Clifford?”

“Who else could I be talking about, bitch? Stop playing with me!”

“Well, I still catch him peeking at me during meetings and stuff, but actually, I think he's lost interest.”

“Good. That nerdy nigga ain't worthy anyway. But back to this. Get this skirt so we can go to Nine West and see if they have some tight pumps to match.”

“You're really serious, huh?”

“You damn skippy! Now go try it on so we can see how it looks.”

Sacha did as she was told. After putting on the skimpy dress, she couldn't deny it, she looked damn good. She came out of the dressing room and spun around slowly and asked Gwen, “How does it look?”

“Bitch, you already looked in the mirror! You know how good it looks, so I don't have to tell your ass!”

Sacha stood in front of the mirror outside of the dressing room, smiled, and said, “My legs are too thick for this.”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch! Your legs are just right for that skirt. Go put your clothes back on so we can get you some pumps.”

They both started laughing as Sacha went and changed back into her clothes. She couldn't argue and win with her girl, so she said to hell with it and bought the dress. They went to a few shoe stores and finally decided on a pair of black Prada pumps that matched the dress to a tee. Gwen bought herself a Coogi denim skirt with a matching top, and some colorful pumps by Jimmy Choo.

After getting all of their stuff together, they decided to go to Red Lobster for dinner. As they were being led to their table, Sacha noticed several different guys peeping at them. She knew she was looking tired, and she self-consciously tried to straighten herself out. She stood a little under five-five and weighed between 125 and 130 pounds. She was thick in all the right places. She had small hips, nice C-cup sized breasts, and an ass to make a grown man cry. But what made her stand out was the exotic look she possessed. She looked as if she had just flown in from the islands somewhere. Her skin tone was bronze-like. She looked as if she stayed in Florida or California somewhere. Her shoulder-length hair completed the island look she possessed. Even dressed in a navy blue pant suit, she still turned heads.

After they were seated, Gwen said, “Look at you, still turning heads wherever we go. I swear, sometimes I hate you, bitch!”

“You the one that got all the men in your life. Shit, how do you know the heads that are turning ain't looking at your hoochie mama hot ass?” They laughed as they gave their orders to the waiter.

After the waiter had left to go get them their salads, Gwen said, “We're going to do the damn thing tonight, bitch. And I swear, you're going to have the club shut the fuck down in that skirt.”

“Whatever!”

“I'm serious, bitch. You gon' have every nigga on your ass.”

“Whatever!”

Gwen sipped her water and shook her head as she stared at her best friend. Gwen knew she was no slouch when it came to men. Shit, she knew she could have any nigga she wanted for real. She just chose to fuck and go as she pleased. There was only one man who owned her heart, and he was in Heaven, so ain't no need trying to fake it.
It is what it is,
she thought as she continued to smile at her friend.

Gwen was the same height as Sacha, but thinner. She had that ghetto booty to make men's mouths water, but she was short in the breast department. Her little A-cups constantly frustrated her. She was dying to get a boob job, but was just too scared to go through with it. She knew that if she told Sacha about it, she would laugh her out of the house. But she was definitely eye candy. Her hazel eyes matched her light brown skin to perfection. God wasn't playing when he blessed her with her looks. But with William gone to Heaven, to her it was all moot.

After they finished their meal, Sacha smiled and said, “All right, girl, I'm about to head on home and take a hot bath so I can get ready for this wild night. I hope I don't look like no damn fool in this hoochie outfit you got me wearing.”

“Trust me, bitch. The club and any nigga you want will be yours tonight.”

They kissed each other on the cheek and parted ways.

Sacha made it home a little after eight p.m. She took her new clothes to her room and went and ran her bathwater. While the water was running, she checked a few e-mails from some of her clients. Since it was the weekend and she didn't have any court dates next week, she decided to put everything else on hold. She was focused on having a good time tonight. She stripped out of her pant suit, walked into her bathroom, and got into the steaming tub full of hot water. As she relaxed in the water, she smiled and said, “Time to go clubbin'!”

The parking lot of Club Cancun was packed as Taz and the crew pulled into the parking lot. Keno was driving Taz's Denali, and he had the doors to the truck open as they pulled into the parking lot, followed by Bo-Pete, who was driving his truck, and Bob, who was bringing up the rear. Since Taz's Denali had a vertical door conversion kit, all eyes were on them as they parked.

The line to get inside was crazy long, but that didn't bother Keno as he stepped out of the truck and struck a pose for all of the ladies that were staring at them . . . oh, and for the haters also.

Taz climbed out of his truck, smiled, and said, “Damn, nigga! You love this shit, huh?”

After calmly zipping up his chinchilla, Keno said, “Dog, this town is ours, and it's only right that everyone knows it. Look at all of these window-shopping-ass bustas staring at us. Look at the hoes. I'm telling you, my nigga, this is
our
town!”

Bob, Red, Bo-Pete, and Wild Bill stepped next to the truck, and Keno asked them, “Are y'all ready?”

“You know it!” replied Bo-Pete.

“Then do you. You know the drill,” Keno said as he fired up the purple haze.

Bo-Pete and Wild Bill walked straight toward the front door and were not bothered by the security as they entered the club.

Bo-Pete smiled at a few ladies as he passed them, and gave a soft nod to a few fellas from around the way. The confidence he possessed showed as he casually strolled into the club. Bo-Pete may be only five-eleven, but he felt like a king every time they went to the club. His chocolate brown skin was smooth as can be, and he knew he looked good. He felt that he made the clothes he wore look good, instead of the other way around. He kept his hair cut low and even all the way around, and sported a neat, well-kept goatee. His muscular frame spoke volumes to the women. They could tell that he always kept himself in tip-top condition.

Wild Bill, Bo-Pete's partner and road dog, was like the complete opposite of Bo-Pete. Bill's hair was extremely long. He kept it permed and combed to the back in a long ponytail. He was a short man, but just as muscular as Bo-Pete. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and if you paid close attention, you could tell that he was damn near blind. But he, too, possessed that confident stroll as he followed Bo-Pete into the club.

 

 

Inside of the club, Katrina and Paquita were having their normal conversation about who was doing what to whom, and what other females were wearing and whatnot. They both were regulars at the club, and were well known 'round-the-way girls. In other words, they were “hood rats.”

“. . . Girl, I'm telling you, I saw Latanya's scandalous-ass at the mall earlier, taking everything as if it was free. I mean, she wasn't even trying to be low! She's a bold bitch for real!” Paquita yelled excitedly.

“Shit, you know how that freak bitch get down. I don't know why your ass is shocked,” replied Katrina as she straightened her too-tight, too-small miniskirt.

“Ooh, girl! Look who just came into the club!” Paquita said as she slung her micro-braids over her shoulder.

After taking a long look around the club and not noticing anyone of importance, Katrina asked, “Who, bitch? I don't see nobody.”

“Over there by the front! It's Bo-Pete and Wild Bill!”

“So? What's so damn special about Bo-Pete and Wild Bill?”

“Girl, whenever you see them come into the club, that can only mean one thing.”

“And what's that?”

Smiling broadly, Paquita said, “That means Taz is here!”

“Stop playing! Where he at?”

“Wait, and you'll see. Look, they're checking out the club to make sure that everything is straight for Taz to come in here. You know how he is about his surroundings.”

“Nah, I don't know shit about it. But I do know that Taz is one fine-ass nigga, and sooner or later I'm gon' get me some of that dick,” Katrina replied confidently.

“Well, bitch, you better get in line, 'cause damn near every bitch in this club has tried to get with him. You know I know my shit. And to my knowledge, ain't no ho in the City been successful. Oooh, ooh! I knew I was right, bitch! Look, there goes Red and Bob too. Watch. You see how Bo-Pete and Wild Bill went to the left of the club and posted up?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Now Red and Bob are going to look around real quick. Then they're going to go to the right of the club. Then, I'll give it three to five minutes before we see Keno and Taz's fine-asses come in here. Taz is going to stand in the entrance and look around. Then, he's going to go to the bar and hold up two fingers, and Winky, the bartender, is going to pour him a double shot of that expensive-ass Courvoiser XO—you know, that three hundred a bottle type shit.”

“Damn, bitch! How you know so much about Taz?”

“I told you, I know what I'm talkin' about! I've been about fuckin' that nigga since back in the day. I would have had action, too, if I wouldn't have done the goofy and started fucking with that whack-ass nigga Clarence. That's back when Taz was sociable. Ever since he . . . oh, never mind, bitch! What did I tell you? Here he comes now!”

At that moment, Paquita was right. Taz and Keno stood in the entranceway of the club and took a good look around until their eyes locked with Bo-Pete's and Wild Bill's, who were standing to their left. Then they let their eyes roam some more until they locked eyes with Red and Bob, who were posted up on the right side of the club. Then, Taz did exactly what Paquita said he would. He stepped to the bar and held up two fingers. Winky, the bartender, quickly poured Taz a double shot of XO into a brandy snifter and passed it to him. Taz sipped his drink and gave Winky a slight nod of his head.

Keno unzipped his chinchilla and smiled at a few ladies who were standing close to them.

Taz noticed how everybody was taking peeks their way, and he shook his head.
These broke mothafuckas are always hating. Look at all these soft-ass niggas! I swear, I don't know why I keep coming to this lame-ass spot,
he said to himself as he took another sip of his drink.

As if reading Taz's mind, Keno said, “Don't trip, my nigga. This may not be your scene, but for us, it is what it is. You straight? 'Cause I'm about to do me.”

“Yeah, I'm good. Go on, ‘Floss King'! Do you!”

Keno smiled as he took a quick look at his Presidential Rolex and said, “Yep, it's about that time.”

As if they had been standing right by Taz and Keno and heard their conversation, Bo-Pete and Wild Bill went to the back bar and got themselves a drink, and Red and Bob had stopped a waitress and had her bring them both some Rémy Martin.

Bob's bald head was sweaty, so he wiped himself with a napkin. His decision to wear all black gave him a sinister look. His dark clothing and dark-skinned complexion made a few females around them a little nervous. But what really made Bob stand out was the knot on his forehead. It stood out about four inches and was an oval shape. People in the know knew never to play with Bob about his knot. But Taz and the crew clowned him about it all of the time. He was the same height as Bo-Pete, Taz, and Keno, but he was the wildest one out of the crew. Once that liquor got into him, he was going to start acting up. Red knew this, so he said, “Don't get too faded tonight, dog. I really don't feel like carrying your ass outta here.”

“What's wrong, big boy? All those muscles and you worried about picking up your homeboy?”

“It ain't that, fool. That shit's embarrassing. Just don't over fucking do it,” said Red as he lit up a Black & Mild cigar.

Red was the biggest in the crew. He stood between six-two and six-three, and he was the only light-skinned member. He kept his hair long and braided in tight French braids going toward the back of his head. To say he was muscular like Taz, Bo-Pete, and the rest of the crew would be an understatement. He was fucking huge! He could easily pass for Mr. Universe or some shit. He had muscles popping out of everywhere. His laid-back demeanor shocked those who got to know him, because you would swear he was one of those cocky, conceited niggas. Actually, he was the coolest member of the crew . . . except when he became angry. Then, watch out, 'cause all hell would break loose when that happened.

Back by the front bar, Taz stood and watched as Keno did his thing on the dance floor with a cute little female.

Keno, at five-eleven, was Taz's heart. No one knew Taz better, and Taz loved him like a brother. But for the life of him, Taz just couldn't figure out why Keno loved to floss so damn much. Yeah, it was cool sometimes, but every time they came out to play, Keno had to make sure that he shined the most. Though they were both the same height, they were completely different from each other. Where Taz was solid and thick, Keno was just as muscular but had a thinner lower body. Keno's hair was long and kept in braids like Red's, whereas Taz's hair was longer and kept in individual plaits.

What made Taz stand out the most were his eyes. His dark brown eyes could show you so much love, but at the snap of a finger they could show you much hate. You could read his every expression by looking into his eyes.

Keno's outgoing personality was irritating at times to Taz, but he loved him all the same. He chalked it up to Keno being the yin to his yang. Taz never let anyone too close, especially women. Keno, on the other hand, fell in love damn near every other day, and was very open about things, especially his personal life. That was definitely a no-no in Taz's book, and he had to constantly stay on Keno's ass about certain things. Taz was not going for any of that shit when it came to his personal life.

Katrina and Paquita finally built up enough nerve to approach Taz.

Taz smiled as they slowly came toward him.
I know these two crazy-ass hoes don't think they got a shot at the title! This is about to be some funny shit,
he told himself.

Once they were standing in front of him, Paquita took charge. “What's up, Taz? How ya been, baby?”

“Laid back. You know how I get down, 'Quita. What's up with you?”

“The same ol', same ol'. Just trying to make it out here in this cold, cold world.”

“Is that right? What's up, Katrina? What, the cat got your tongue tonight?”

“Uh-uh. But you can have it if you want it, Taz.”

Smiling, Taz asked, “Can I have
everything
I want?”

Stepping back slightly so that Taz could take a good look at her voluptuous figure, Katrina smiled and said, “It's yours for the taking, baby. You name it, you got it, Taz!”

He was sipping his drink as she said this, and he damn near spit a mouthful of his expensive cognac all over her. He caught himself and said, “I'll have to take a rain check on you this time, boo. You know I'm saving myself for that special lady.”

“That's fucked up, Taz! Why you trying to clown a sista? You know I've been wanting to get with your fine-ass!” whined Katrina.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Taz smiled and said, “Baby, I guess it just ain't meant to be. Look, let me buy you two a drink or somethin', huh?”

“That's cool, but can you do me a favor, Taz, please?”

Sighing, he asked, “What is it, 'Quita?”

With a bright smile on her face, Paquita asked him, “Can you smile for me, Daddy?”

That got a smile out of him because he knew what she wanted to see. So, he smiled brightly and let her get a good look at the diamonds in his grille.

“Damn, baby! You the shit and you know it, huh?”

“Nah, 'Quita, I'm just good ol' Taz, baby girl. Look, y'all go on and tell Winky to give y'all whatever y'all want. And make sure you keep this ‘tiger' out of trouble, 'Quita,” he said, referring to Katrina.

“I will, Taz. Come on, girl. Let's go get our drink on.”

As they were walking away, Katrina put an extra swish into her big hips, and Taz started shaking his head and laughing at the same time. He turned around to check and see what his partners were getting into and noticed the baddest female that he'd seen in a very long time. I mean, just by looking at her, he felt himself stir down below.
Who the fuck is that?
he asked himself as he watched the sexy female enter the club with another female.
Damn, she's sexy as hell!
he thought as he sipped his drink and continued to stare at her.

 

 

As Sacha and Gwen entered the club, Sacha could actually feel all of the eyes on her.
Oh, my God! Why did I let this girl talk me into wearing this hoochie outfit? I feel damn near naked!
she thought to herself as they found a table by the back bar. After they sat down, a waitress came to their table and asked if they wanted anything to drink. They both ordered apple martinis. While the waitress went to get them their drinks, they both took a look around the club.

Sacha could see a bunch of the fake wannabe ballers flossing around the club and acting like they owned the place. She also saw a few good-looking men here and there. As her eyes continued to scan the club, they stopped when they came to Taz.
Damn! Who's that fine-ass specimen of a man?
she asked herself as she took a real good look at Taz and what he was wearing.
Hmmm. A thug with taste, huh? Gots to be. He's wearing that chinchilla like it was made especially for him. Nice jewelry, expensive too. Not too much, but just enough. I like them braids too. Damn, that nigga is sexy!
she thought to herself as she turned back to face Gwen.

Gwen, who had followed her friend's eyes and saw the same thing that she had seen, said, “That is one bad man, bitch! You peep that chinchilla he has on?”

“Umm-hmm! He's definitely at the top of his game, ho. Probably the biggest dope dealer in the city. I'll probably be representing his ass in federal court one day.” They both started laughing as the waitress came and set their drinks on the table.