Boss Bitch Swag (6 page)
Authors: Cynthia White
Chapter 10
The following Saturday night
,
I invited Ren over to my apartment to watch the Mike Tyson
-
Bruce Sheldon fight live from Las Vegas. The pay
-
per
-
view bill was go
nna
be almost double that month, but I couldn’t have cared less
; t
here was no way I was missing that bout.
My cousins Pee-Wee and Marco also blessed me with their presence. It had been a while since we all kicked it, but I planned on making up for that. I had plenty weed, plenty beer chillin' in the fridge, and plenty food for when we all came down with a serious case of the munchies. Earlier that morning
,
Jazz picked up two huge platters of hot wings from the grocery store. She then headed to Subway where a six
-
foot party sub was waiting under my last name. When my baby got home
,
she re-heated the wings in the oven
,
covering them first with an extra bottle of sauce
-
just the way her man liked. Once they were ready
,
she put them out on a table I didn’t even know we had, along with the sub and six big bowls of various chips and pretzels
; t
hat was all we needed. After Jazz made sure that we all had a cold drink in
our
hands
,
she grabbed her purse and the keys to my truck.
“Bye
,
baby.” She bent down beside me and kissed me on my cheek. “Enjoy the fight.”
“Bye.” I grabbed her and gave her a real kiss
; i
f there was no tongue
,
then it just wasn’t our style. Jazz was kind of shy at first. She didn’t want our company to see us bring the heat
; m
y baby was a lady in the light but a big
-
ass freak in the dark. After the surprise wore off
,
she kissed me back
– and
got my dick hard quicker than any chic
k
ever had. When I told my niggas I
’
d be back
,
I knew they understood. A ten
-
minute quickie with Jazz was the fix I needed to hold me over until I saw her again
, and
I was positive she felt the same way
; s
he couldn’t wipe that wide
,
sneaky grin off her perfect face.
“Tell yo mama I said
‘
hi
,’
” I reminded her with a pat on the ass while we walked from our bedroom door to the front door of
the
apartment.
“I will
,
”
s
he promised. “You know she lov"1eknow shes her some Boss.”
Jasmine’s mother was cool when she wasn’t drunk. It didn’t take me long to win her over. Once she saw how well I treated Jazz
.
it was a done deal. She confided in me that she wanted a better life for her daughter than the one she lived at home with her
; i
n return
,
I confided in her that I wanted the same. Jazz deserved the best
, and
I was clawing my way up to try and give her that. She was my motivation.
“Man, you let yo gal go out the house like that?” Ren asked me in a very insinuating tone as soon as Jazz walked out the door. “You must be a bigga man than me
...
I don’t know if I could let mine out in a dress like that.
”
“Nigga, that dress cost me six hundred dollas.” I tossed back the ice cold beer my baby picked up for me earlier and took a long swig. “She betta wear it somewhere.”
“Feel me!”
m
y cousin Pee-Wee agreed.
Pee-Wee was a nickname that started out as a joke. He was only sixteen and was already six
-
foot
-
two and two-hundred
-
and
-
thirty pounds. He excelled at high-school football and was expected to get a full scholarship to play college ball. The future was looking good for my cuzz. I was proud of him. He promised to hook me up if he made it to the pros. It wasn’t at all necessary, but if got me tickets to a Super Bowl even once
–
he
’
d be my nigga for life.
“But where she goin’ dressed like that?” Ren continued on with the shit. “Where she goin’ by herself that she need to be dressed like that?” He stood up and
pulled
a full box of Black and Milds from the pocket of his baggy Polo jeans.
In the process, a
thick roll of cash fell out onto the floor
, and
I remembered him well enough to know that it was no accident
; h
e wanted everybody in that room to know he was getting’ paid. Ren always had been a flashy nigga.
“She’s takin’ her mama to a play at the Fox
,
” I explained as I took the Black and Mild he was offering me from his hand. “After that
,
they goin’ across the street to The Steakhouse to eat.”
I sat back down on the couch and scanned the room for an ashtray. My cousin Marco saw me and knew exactly what I was searching for. He looked around his legs
,
knowing he
’
d just used it to put out a roach. It took his high ass a few seconds longer than it should have
,
but he finally found it between two of the sofa cushions.
“Good lookin
’
out.” I offered my cousin a nod after he stood up and handed me the ashtray. “I appreciate you
,
” I joked as I started to feel my beer. Marco and Pee-Wee just laughed. Between the three of us
,
I
’d
always been the jokester. They brought it out in me
; w
henever I got around them
,
I felt at ease. It was comfortable and safe. Nobody fucked with you when you were with Pee-Wee. At five
-
foot
-
eight
,
Marco might have been/spht have the smallest, but he wasn’t to be fucked with either
; h
e was the wildest, the one nobody could calm down once some shit popped off. He was probably also the most dangerous. That was good for us
-
but bad for anybody that had beef with us.
“I’m just sayin’,” Ren pressed on
,
“she fine as hell
-
and nigga
,
you know just like I do that the more fine a chick is, the more scandalous she is.”
“My baby ain’t like that
,
” I defended Jasmine.
“
You don’t know her.”
I
never
would have admitted it
to
any of them, but for a minute I ran with Ren’s theory. Maybe things with Jazz
were
too good to be true. I knew how she got down before we got together
; s
he never even tried to hide it from me. I also knew how much she hated her old life
- a
t least
,
that’s what she
told
me.
The fight was over almost as fast as it began. If you blinked
,
you
probably
would have missed the whole thing. Tyson was declared the winner after only one hundred and nine seconds in the ring.
“Man, I can’t believe I paid for this shit
,
” I complained. “I straight got swindled.”
“That nigga Tyson a fuckin
’
monsta
!
” Marco declared
,
making some pose that made him look more like The Incredible Hulk th
a
n it did Tyson. “Could you imagine
gettin’
in the ring with him?”
“Fuck nauh.” I shook my head at the thought. “Shit, he'd have to catch me first.”
Since the fight was over
,
I switched the channel to BET. They were playing the same videos as earlier
,
but nobody cared
; all
four
of us were
high as kites
,
so we were easy to entertain. The barely
-
dressed
,
dirty dancing video chicks did the trick. I reached for my half
-
empty box of Garcia Vegas
,
getting ready to roll another blunt
– when I
caught myself looking over at my cell
,
wondering why Jazz hadn’t called.
“So what happened with you and Gina?” Ren asked
,
even though I had a suspicion he already knew the answer. He was just as close to Gina’s family as he was to mine, maybe even closer. There was no way he was back and hadn’t seen or heard about at least one of them. They covered an entire floor of the projects
,
a
nd they loved to talk
-
especially about somebody else’s business.
“Ain’t nobody thinkin’ bout that rat
,
” Marco answered the question for me.
He
,
too
,
had fucked Gina
-
along with Pee-Wee and half the other niggas in the hood. At nineteen
,
-/span>
,
he hit the block and earned the money to pay for them. Without a scholarship
,
he didn’t have many options.
I hushed the entire room as a reporter interrupted with breaking news
:
2-Pac had been shot. We all fell silent. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The reporter went on to say that Pac was shot four times coming from the same fight we
’
d just been watching. The mood in the room was somber.
For us, t
he day Pac got shot was like the day JFK got shot for white folks
: e
verybody remembered where they were and what they were doing.
“Well
,
fellas,” Ren
said, standing to
his feet. “I'd love to stay here and kick it with my niggas a li
’
l longer
,
but I got this li
’
l fine
-
ass bitch ova on
N
ineteenth waitin
’
to get dicked down
,
”
h
e bragged. “I’ll holla at you lata
,
man.”
He gave me a strong pat on the back
,
then swiped his car keys off the coffee
table
and headed for the door.
I didn’t even respond. I couldn’t
; t
here was too much on my mind. Jazz was out driving my truck, wearing a dress I paid for
-
and I didn’t even know for sure who she was with. On top of all that
,
my favorite rapper gets shot. I know I didn’t know Pac personally, but his music was a part of me. He was the only person alive that I felt got my pain. His lyrics mirrored my life. “So Many Tears” was my anthem. I lived that shit
; e
very single line described either my past or my present. There was even a reference to my situation with Jazz
.
I hated thinkin
g
about
her
that way
,
but I was too high to help it. The girl was too damn fine for her own good
- h
ow was I supposed to trust her alone? It was all good when I was there to keep my eye on her, but I had no clue how she acted when I wasn’t around. Maybe the old saying was true
: m
aybe you couldn’t turn a hoe into a housewife.
“Boss, I know you love that girl like a muthafucka
-
but just be careful
,
” Marco began to
feed my paranoia
even further
. “Listen to yo big cuzz
; y
o man Ren’s crooked
,
and yo girl might be
,
too.” He said what he had to say and didn’t speak another word on the subject for the entire time he was there. Marco wasn’t the type to preach
; h
e was just looking out for his little cousin. We
’
d all been through a lot, but he knew I was never the same after my mother committed suicide. I wouldn’t let myself be close to anyone anymore, not even Marco and Pee-Wee
; t
hat changed
, though,
; h
e just hoped her intentions were good as well.
