Authors: Noire
Then they stretched me out, and about four of Hurricane's flunkies held on to my feet. I was cursing and twisting, and it took a minute before I realized what they were trying to do. I was still wearing Peaches's sweat suit and they were trying to get my sleeve up.
I started scratching at their hands, and then that fat-necked Butter got me. He plopped his soft stank ass right down in my face, muffling my screams and cutting off my breath.
“Hold your stupid ass still,” he said, with his funky nuts bending my wrist back until I moaned and dropped the hanger. “Gimme the shit,” he told somebody, squeezing my arm. A second later I felt a sharp prick on the inside of my elbow, then a burning sensation. Don't ask me what happened after that because my ass went out.
T
ime went by in crazy snatches.
Action!
Turn over! Open your legs! That's right. Get it girl.
Cameras. Hot lights. Thirsty.
My pussy got licked. I liked it.
So tired!
Hard nipples and niggahs laughing.
Predator on the bed. Asia. Caramel!
Don't wanna.
Shoot her again.
Action! XXX!
Hurricane. Cameras. Bright flashes.
Moaning. Licking.
Fucking.
Sucking.
Barking!
Crying. My asshole hurts.
Shoot her again. Give the bitch more this time.
Nipples hard. Damn. She's sucking them just right.
Ooooh, shit, yeah. I'm cumming!
Niggahs laughing.
Roll that video!
Her pussy stanks. My face is in it.
Hurricane. So thirsty.
Asia. Predator. She gone lose that baby.
Stop, Caramel! Don't be touching me like that!
Please, no more.
Cameras.
Hurricane. Shoot that bitch again.
Action!
Hot lights. Need more film.
Knowledge! Where you at?
Shoot that bitch again.
Pussy on fire! Yeah … fuck me, Poppa.
Shoot that bitch again.
Cut!
Darkness. Tired.
Darkness.
Darkness….
A
bomb exploded inside my left nostril and I grabbed my whole face.
I couldn't focus my eyes, and darkness tried to settle down on me once more.
“Ow!” That niggah dug up in my nose again and it hurt so bad I rose straight up outta my fog. The inside of my nostril was throbbing. My eyes were wide open now. Blood was on his fingernail and running down my top lip.
We were in the video room at the House of Homicide. How I had gotten there, I couldn't tell you. I was laying facedown on a cot, naked and thirsty. Hurricane was chilling on a director's chair right next to me, and Caramel was sitting on the floor between his legs, wearing just a torn, dingy bra and resting her head in his lap.
“You're a natural, Candy,” he said as I tried to sit up. “You got real skills in front of the camera, ma.” He laughed and nodded toward a large movie screen on the right wall. I turned my head and there I was. Ass to the wind. Live and on the big screen. I put my head down on the bed and closed my eyes.
“Open your eyes,” Hurricane said, mushing me with his whole hand. He pushed Caramel off of him and she grinned and thunked to the floor. Her eyes were open but she wasn't seeing much of nothing. For the very first time I saw the track marks on her arms.
Hurricane climbed on the bed and straddled me. He sat on my back and yanked my head back. “Keep them blue eyes open so you can see. You wanted to be a big star, right? Well, check out the screen 'cause there you go!” He laughed again. “All those magazine covers? Out! All them endorsements I had lined up for your silly ass? Out!”
He pulled on my hair and forced me to watch. Me. Asia. Caramel. Three buck-ass niggahs. A dick-sucking contest. Butter with his joint up my ass. Niggahs shooting all in my hair. Me doing Caramel. Caramel doing Asia. Asia doing the dog. I wanted to throw up and die.
“What you crying for, girl?” Hurricane teased. “Yeah, your singing career is over, but we still gone be making money, though. As fine as your ass is? This shit's gonna sell bigger than R. Kelly! See, a niggah like R. Kelly can lick the assholes of all the little girls he wants and still wake up a superstar. But a sweet little up-and-rising singer like you doing all them freaky thangs…. hell, ma. Even the dog got him some.”
I didn't say a word. The images playing on the screen were saying enough.
“Now get your ass up and get dressed, Candy.”
I didn't move. This was just another one of his games. That niggah wasn't letting me leave and I knew it.
“Get up, Candy. There go your gear.” He pointed to Peaches's pink sweat suit laying on the floor. “Right over there. Get your shit on and hit the door. You on your own now, little girl, and don't look to that fuckin’ Knowledge for no help 'cause his ass done been handled out in L.A. Matter fact, I just made me a phone call to some crazy Italians on the West Coast, and the next time them Mob motherfuckas roll up on you and throw
you in a goddamn trunk, remember who got you out the first time. You lucky I don't toss your ass up in a trunk somewhere myself. Now go.”
I pulled that sweat suit on me because I had made up my mind to stay alive. If Hurricane gave me a chance to walk out that door, I was walking. I'd come back for Caramel when I had some wins. I didn't see the socks that Peaches had put on me, but a pair of Asia's turned-over shoes were next to the bed and I hurried up and threw my feet in them.
“What about my sister?” I had to ask. Caramel had crawled her tail back up into Hurricane's lap and nodded off into la-la land.
Hurricane reached over and slapped my sister on her naked ass. “Oh, this jawn?” He laughed. “This me. I'm putting her fine red ass dead in the middle.”
I
bust out the door and ran down the streets of Harlem until it felt like my chest would explode, and even then I didn't stop. I slowed down to a fast walk, trying to shake off the panic that was in me and clear my head so I could think.
I couldn't believe he'd let me out. Yeah, I'd left Caramel back there, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do for her in my condition. But as soon as I got me straight I would go back and help my sister.
Knowledge had told me that if I got in trouble while he was gone, to go to Jadeah. I wasn't sure I could trust her, but I trusted my man to the bone, and if he thought Jadeah was down, then I'd just have to take that chance.
I saw a Spanish store on the corner and went inside and
asked to use the phone. The man at the counter took one look at my busted up face and handed me his cell. I dialed the front office at the House of Homicide and Jadeah picked up on the second ring.
“Homicide Hitz, can I help you?”
“Yeah, Jadeah,” I said, trying not to cry. “I really hope you can.”
S
he met me down on 125th Street. I told her to come to a braid salon, but I was hiding near a store that sold halal foods, just in case she flipped on me and sent some of Hurricane's boys instead. I watched her go into the braid place and say a few words to the Africans who worked there. Then she came out looking confused and started walking further up the street. I made myself wait until she had looked in almost every store on the block, and only when she went back into the braid shop for the second time and started arguing with the owner did I come out of my hiding spot.
“Jadeah,” I called to her from the doorway. “I'm right here.” She whirled around. “Where were you?” Then she saw my bruises and the cut on my face, and her eyes changed. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Not again, Candy.”
She pulled me by the arm and we went into a pizza shop. Who knew the last time I had eaten, and as soon as I smelled that hot pizza I started drooling. Jadeah went up to the counter and ordered us both a slice.
“I want two,” I mumbled. “With pepperoni and extra cheese.”
When she came back to the table with our order I took two bites of my slice and felt sick. “I can't remember the last time I
had something in my stomach,” I told her, and covered my mouth with a napkin.
“Don't rush it down,” she said. “Drink some soda first and take your time.”
Jadeah opened her shoulder bag and took out a rectangular package wrapped in aluminum foil. “Here,” she said, passing it across the table to me. “Knowledge called a couple of times asking about you, but I kept telling him that you were cool, chilling at the mansion. I didn't know you were out here getting beat down and abused like this.” She nodded at the package. “He left that with me. That man is power, Candy. I don't know what's in it, but I don't have no doubts that it was meant for you.”
I held the package in my lap and unwrapped it. Inside I found a thick stack of twenty-dollar bills and two silver keys. I took ten twenties off the top and slid them across the table to Jadeah. “For helping me,” I said.
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head and slid them right back. “Don't insult me like that, Candy. I know my brother did this to you. He's a evil motherfucker and I know he's responsible for a lot of dirty shit. If there's anything I can do to help you,
anything.
Just let me know.”
I thought for a moment, then looked up at her. “Anything?”
She twisted her lips.
“Anything!”
“All right, then,” I said, leaning in close. “Check this out …”
K
nowledge had left me ten thousand dollars in twenty-dollar bills along with the keys to his loft. I tried to call him from Jadeah's cell phone, but his voice mail came on and I had to leave a message.
I left Jadeah on 125th Street. I took a taxi downtown to Knowledge's place and let myself in. The first thing I did was take a long, hot bath. I still couldn't look at my face in the mirror 'cause I was too scared of what I'd see. An hour later I got out of the tub and dried off, then found a T-shirt in a dresser drawer and crawled in the bed.
I stayed up in Knowledge's crib for three days, waiting. No matter what Hurricane had said, I knew my man was alive because I could feel him. I knew he had gotten my message, and I knew he'd come. I didn't turn on the television and I didn't turn on no radio either. I thought a lot. I ate tuna fish and corned beef hash. Ramen noodles and mac and cheese from the box. And I thought some more.