Boss Divas (23 page)

“J
ust tell us what the hell you did with the baby,” Adaryl hisses. “We have the right to know.”

I shake my head, tired of going around in circles with them over this shit. “The less y'all know the better,” I keep telling them, which is the truth. I can't trust these bitches worth a damn and now that I got this cop sniffing around my panties, I gotta play shit smart. I'm not about to fuck up and get locked down over this bullshit.

“Whatever is whatever,” Li'l Bit pipes up. “I say we put that night out of our minds and just act like the shit never happened.”

“I'm down with that,” I say and then look to Adaryl. Clearly, she is feeling some kind of way because she can't even fix her face. “Whassup?” I explode.

“What? I didn't say shit,” she retreats, defensive.

“You don't have to. My ass ain't blind. What I don't get is why do you give a shit? You've been on my ass for months to handle the situation. Now it's done and you still have a long face?”

“No. I don't,” she lies. “I just don't understand why you're so secretive all of a sudden.”

“Maybe because you've been acting so shady. Now you're over here tryna play inch-high private eye. You still ain't told us what the hell you told the po-po when they came poking around
your
place.”

“I didn't tell them shit,” Adaryl barks.

“You had to have said something. That new captain don't take silence for an answer—and you're as prickly as I am so I know she had to get under your skin.”

“No. She wasn't like that.”

“Bullshit.”

Even Li'l Bit cocked her head at Adaryl. Neither one of us are buying her story—which makes her twenty damn questions even more suspicious.

“I don't give a fuck what you two think.” She waves us off and then hops up from our table.

“Where in hell do you think that you're going?” I demand.

“We're done here, right? There's nothing else to discuss. We can all go our separate ways and pretend this shit never happened.” Without waiting for a response, Adaryl turns and skates off.

“Oookay.” Li'l Bit shakes her head.

“I don't trust that bitch,” I say. “Not at all.”

Li'l Bit dismisses it. “She's always been a little funny. Don't let her get to you.”

“Uh-huh.” I stare a hole into the back of Adaryl's head, unable to settle this weird feeling I'm getting.

“Let it go,” Li'l Bit insists. “She's not going to talk.”

I shift my gaze to meet my girl's straight-on. “Are you sure? Are you willing to bet your freedom?”

Li'l Bit's confidence wavers as she casts a look over her shoulder at Adaryl joining the skaters rolling around the rink. “She won't talk. She better not.”

“If she does, you know what we'll have to do.”

My cell buzzes against my leg. I lower my slice of pizza and scoop it out of jean pocket. The name on the caller ID surprises the hell out of me.

“What is it now?” Li'l Bit asks.

I hold up the phone and flash it.

Adaryl's face goes from dread to shock—just like mine. “Where in the hell has he been?”

“No idea.” My heart leaps into the center of my throat.
What do I say? What if I sound too anxious? Desperate?

“Well? Are you going to answer it?”

I swipe my finger across the screen before the call is sent to voice mail. “H-hello.” It's so loud in this joint that I have to cork my other ear in order to hear.

“Hello. I guess this means that you're still alive,” Diesel says.

I pause, not sure how to respond.

“Hello,” he says. “Are you still there?”

“Hey. Yeah. I'm here.” I glance up as Li'l Bit moves from her chair to sit closer to me.

“Oh. It's like that now? You haven't been missing a brotha?”

I shrug, torn between admitting the truth and playing it cool. “I figured that you were busy and you'd call when you were ready.”

Li'l Bit gives me the thumbs-up.

“Hmm. Well—you were right,” Diesel says with a chuckle. “It's nice to hear that you have matured some since the last time we saw each other. I like it.”

“What can I say? I like to keep people guessing.” I wink at Li'l Bit, who is giggling into her hands.

“People—or men?” He comes direct.

“People.”

“Uh-huh.You've been seeing anyone since you last saw me?”

Again, I hesitate.

“Don't lie,” he warns before his voice drops even lower. “Have you given my pussy to someone else?”

“Your pussy?” Embarrassment, my face blazes. “I wasn't aware of you staking a claim.”

“What? You just shoot up every nigga's house that you smash? C'mon, Scar. Quit playing games. You know that you want me to be your man.”

“I do, huh?” I squirm in my chair, remembering just how good this nigga is at straightening out a bitch's back.

“You gonna lie and tell me I'm wrong?”

Another pause.

“Well?”

“I haven't said either way.”

“Humph. Then maybe I'm wrong and you
have
given my pussy out to some random nigga over there flagging those damn cartoon colors. Maybe I need to move on to the next bitch that knows something about loyalty and how to treat her man.”

“So you're my man now?” I ask, liking the sound of that.

“I could be—if you do me right.”

“I'll do you all right. The next damn time I see your fine ass.”

“Is that a promise?” His voice keeps dropping into an incredible baritone that has my pussy creaming.

“Absolutely.”

“Then how about you be my date for opening night at my club downtown. I want to make sure that I have the baddest bitch in Memphis on my arm. You with it?”

“A club, huh?” I clutch Li'l Bit's arm and bounce in my seat. “That sounds cool.”

“Then it's a date?”

“Yeah. It's a date.”

“Cool. I'll pick you up at eight next Friday. Tell your brother not to shoot when I show up at the door.”

“You got it. I'll see you then. Bye.” I disconnect the call, look at my girl, and then sing, “I'm gonna get laid. I'm gonna get laid.”

“I
s that it?” I ask Python when he finishes his long-ass story. “That's why you've been walking around here with your damn bottom lip sweeping the floor?” I hop up from the La-Z-Boy and mush him dead in his head. “Get the fuck out of here with that shit. You should've turned the muthafuckin' oven on and roasted his ass. Maybe then we wouldn't be going through this shit right now. Have you ever thought of
that
shit?

Python springs up out of his chair. “Fuck! I don't know why I bother telling you shit. You ain't got it in you to understand.”

“You damn right I don't. You made sure of that shit the second you ordered me to handle
my
sister. You can play dumb now all you fuckin' want. But we both know what the fuck you meant—so
no!
I don't understand. I'll never understand. The past is the past. Leave that shit there and deal with the present—which is:
your muthafuckin' brother doesn't give a shit about you!
He will waste your fuckin' brains all up and down Memphis if given the chance.THIS IS WAR. This shit is bigger than you and Fat Ace.”

Python throws up his hand, brick-walling this whole discussion before marching off toward the bedroom.

“Yeah. That's it. Walk away when you know that I'm right!”

He flips me off, storms into the bedroom, and slams the door.

Frustrated, I look around, wanting to throw or slam something, too. Babysitting a gangster is fuckin' insane. To calm my nerves, I roll my ass a fatty and blaze up. I need to anticipate what the fuck Python is going to do next. I don't trust him in this state of mind.

A car pulls up into the driveway. I climb back onto my feet and peek out of the blinds. Diesel eases out from behind the wheel looking more like a male super model than a ruthless gangster. His swag is out of control and has my knees knocking.

I move away from the window and over to the front door like a good wife, but I make sure I throw nothing but shade when he enters. However, the shit bounces off his ass as he hits me with one of his panty-melting smiles.
I hate this muthafucka.

“What's up, Shelle?” He winks.

“Fuck you.”

He meets my gaze and reads me like a book. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“Not even if you were the last negro standing,” I lie.

He laughs at my bullshit and strolls past me. “Where's big man at?”

“In the bedroom.”
Crying like a bitch,
I want to add. “You look like you're handling shit well—considering. Word is that the Vice Lords took out your good ol' boy network. That's gotta hurt the bottom line.”

A visible muscle twitches along the side of Diesel's face. “I'm handling it.”

“Are you? Kind of how you handled Lucifer the other night? What was it you said? You haven't come across a bitch yet you couldn't put down?”

Another twitch.

“I told you not to underestimate that evil bitch.”

“A minor setback,” he says.

“Uh-huh.” I rake my gaze over him and then I spit the only question that has been spinning inside my head since I met his ass. “What the hell do you get out of all of this?”

Diesel's slick smile grows wider. “The satisfaction of helping my family.”

“Bullshit.”

He makes a play of covering his heart with his hand. “I'm hurt that you don't trust me.
Truly.
”

“I don't trust nobody and I'm watching your ass. Trust and believe I'm going to do everything I can to protect my man and his crown. He's going through a few things right now, but if you step a toe out of line, I'll be too happy to shoot that muthafucka off.”

His lips twitch. “You ain't the only nigga packing heat in this equation.You come gunning for me, you better make damn sure your ass don't miss. I don't show mercy for no muthafucka—with balls or tits.” He stuns me by pinching my nipples so hard that I jump, despite the pleasure.

Diesel laughs as he leans in close. “If I were you, I'd check that temper, shawty. I ain't too crazy about bitches that don't know their places.”

“My only place is on the throne. The rest of you bitch-niggas need to bow down.”

He pinches my shit again. “Admit it. You've been dying for me to touch you since you laid eyes on me.”

I step back. “Oh my. What a big muthafuckin' head you got.”

“Yeah?” His fast hands grab mine and place it on the anaconda snaking down his leg. “I'm big all over, shawty.”

He ain't fucking lying.
I blame the weed for my ass not realizing that he had removed his hand and I remain clutching his dick like it's the last life vest on
The Titanic
.

“You can let go now,” he says, laughing.

I snatch my shit back and suffer through the humiliation of him laughing in my face.

Python exits the bedroom. “Shelle, you got my ph—oh, D.” He pulls up. “When the fuck did you get here?” His gaze swings back and forth between us.

“Just got here,” Diesel says. “Is there somewhere we can go talk—in private?”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go out back.”

“Are you for real?” I ask, hurt at the blatant diss.

Python doesn't respond as he leads Diesel out into the backyard.

Steaming, I follow close behind—but when Python sees me, he motions for Diesel to close the door.

That tickles the shit out of Diesel, who's only too happy to close that bitch right in my face.

Bitch-ass, pussy-punk muthafuck . . .
I cut myself off and suck in a deep breath. After I get myself together, I lean forward and place my ear against the door and strain to hear what's being said on the other side. Python has walked out to the center of the yard where I can't hear shit.

This is ridiculous. I don't know how Python expects Diesel to help get more info on the Vice Lords than our street soldiers can.

“Qiana.” The name rushes to the front of my mind.
Shit.
That fucking loose string I've left dangling in the wind. Fuck. I want to kick my own ass. Why, with all the fuckin' Flowers cluttering this shitty city, did Diesel have to cross paths with that sliced-up bitch? I try to calm down, but I can't. Bitches don't know how to keep their mouths shut—let alone some grimy Vice Lord. Hell. Had I not wound up in the hospital over Ta'Shara's bullshit, I would've taken care of her ass a long time ago.

“Don't worry,” Diesel is saying, walking back toward the house with his arm wrapped around his cousin's shoulder. “I have my ways of getting muthafuckas to talk. I'll keep you posted.”

They exchange fist pounds and a shoulder hug.

“I catch you later,” Python says.

I roll my eyes.

Diesel chuckles as his cousin heads back to the bedroom.

I open the front door to show Diesel out.

He tosses up his hands. “I'm going. I'm going.” At the door, he winks. “Have a good evening.”

Instead of closing the door behind him, I step outside so that we can have our own private conversation. “So are you about to contact that VL jailbait you've been fuckin' with?”

“Why? Do you want to join us?”

“Hardly.” I laugh, but it sounds like it sputtered out of a broken tailpipe.

Diesel's perfect brows lift with growing interest.

I trudge on like my act is Oscar-worthy. “Well, you're new to this city and you don't know how those withered-up Flowers are. You can't trust anything they fuckin' say. I wouldn't get my hopes up that you're going to get any real info from them.”

He shrugs. “I disagree. It's not like Qiana is a nobody. From my understanding, her brother, Tombstone, is pretty high up on the food chain over there. He's Lucifer's right hand.”

I stagger back. “What?”

Diesel studies me. “What's up? You know this chick or something?”

“What? No!” Again with that fucking tailpipe. “Why in the hell would I know that scarred-up bitch, Qiana?”

His gaze hardens on me. “How in the fuck do you know about her scars?”