Crooked G's (14 page)

“Shit. Shit. Shit” was the only thing Shakita could say to herself as the three men were continuing to raise the bet on her. She was overly confident with the king of diamonds and ace of hearts she had in her hand, and with the community cards being a ten of hearts, a king of hearts, and an ace of hearts, she had her two pairs already secured. All she needed now was to get another king or ace to appear from out of “the turn” or “the river” and then she would have a full house. If she was able to pull off a four of a kind somehow, that would be even better. She didn't know whether any of the men were bluffing with their hands or not, but they were really starting to piss her off. She had $75,000 of her earnings in the pot already and they hadn't even gotten to the second round of bidding yet. She had no idea where the game was going.

“The turn” card was a four of spades, which did nothing to enhance Shakita's hand at all. She put in her usual two thousand-dollar bet and it was matched and then raised $25,000 by the young man. Shakita looked at him funny wondering why he'd never taken a big risk the entire game until now. She tried to read the young man's facial expressions but couldn't get anything. The old man
then matched the younger man's bet and then raised it by $10,000. Shakita took her focus off of the young man to follow what was going on around the table. The betting was getting worse. The chubby man matched the $35,000 that the older man added to the pot and raised him another $15,000. Shakita couldn't believe what the hell was going on. If she wanted to play this hand, she would have to put in another $50,000 or fold her hand.

She thought her hand was probably better than the three assholes that were playing with bullshit hands, and didn't want to lose all the money she'd put out thus far. All the men had more money to gamble than she did. She couldn't afford to lose any of it. She decided to match the $50,000 and hope the betting would stop. Finally, everyone was satisfied with what was in the pot and was now ready to move on to “the river.” The last card was turned over and it was an ace of clubs. It was the exact card Shakita needed to get a full house. She felt that there was no way any of the bastards could beat her hand now and was more than ready to collect all her money once the last round of bidding was over.

Fuck!
Shakita said to herself, as she tried to place another safe bet of two grand, but was raised $50,000 by the young man, which really put her on the ropes. The old man matched the young man and raised him another twenty grand. The chubby man folded his hand leaving Shakita with a whole lot to think about.
What the fuck is going on?
Shakita said to herself, looking down at her lonely three thousand dollars' worth of chips. She couldn't afford to fold her hand nor did she have enough money to continue. Shakita was caught up in a tough situation.

“So whatcha gonna do, darlin'? We ain't got all day,” the old man said, easily antagonizing her, knowing she was backed in a corner.

Shakita didn't have a clue what she was going to do, but she had
to think fast. That's when she realized she had to use what she had to get what she wanted.

“I only have three thousand left. Can I play with whatever I got and count it as a match?”

“Are you sure you wanna do that?” the old man asked. He then gave her a stern look. “Don't think you're winning none of that money on that there table. If I were you, I'd lay those cards down and use that pocket change to get back home with.”

Shakita couldn't tell if the old-timer was bluffing or not, but leaving the table with three grand wasn't shit. Even if she did fold on this hand, she didn't have enough money to play through the next one.

She had been at this table too long to walk away with nothing, and Shakita was going to either win it all or lose everything. She felt good about her hand and was going to try them head-on for the whole pot. She had no other choice but to bet.

“I don't need any of this to get home. I came here with a full tank,” Shakita said with a straight face, as she pushed her little three thousand in chips over to the rest of the pile.

The old man thought the idea over as he bit down on his bottom lip. Her three thousand meant diddly-squat to him at this point, but it was worth almost the whole pot when it came down to principle. He wanted to teach her little black ass a lesson, so she could remember this ass-whooping for the rest of her life. He gladly accepted her bid.

It was time for them all to lay out their hands, and Shakita couldn't wait to see the look on their ugly white faces when they laid eyes on her pretty full house. Her three aces and two kings could not be beat and she was going to prove that right now. She put down her cards and waited for the country bumpkins to read 'em
and weep. The young man put down his cards to show that he had a jack of spades and a queen of diamonds, giving him two pairs, which still wasn't enough to beat Shakita's hand. The old man then put down his cards and caused Shakita's mouth to hit the floor. All of them started to laugh at her when she was able to piece together his card combination. The motherfucker had a royal flush. This was the highest and rarest combo one could ever get, and Shakita's full house couldn't do shit with it. Confusion came over her face as the old man hugged the massive pile of chips into his arms and pulled them close to him.

Shakita couldn't believe what had happened and became disoriented when she realized she'd lost all her money
again
. The men continued to laugh as her humiliation and frustration grew, sending her into a state of shock.

“If you play with us, we send 'em packing,” the old man said as he tipped his hat. “Now if you decide to give up some of that sweet black cunt of yours, I might be willing to throw you back enough coins to getcha self a sandwich.”

The other two men both laughed at the old man's joke, which made Shakita feel like crying.

“Fuck y'all hillbillies,” Shakita said as she walked over to the old man and knocked off his cowboy hat onto the floor and kept walking.

“You fuckin' lil' bitch!” the old man yelled after picking up his hat and placing it back on his head lopsided.

The old man calmed down after Shakita was out of sight, knowing that they all had gotten the bigger laugh on her, and that she would be even madder than he was if she knew what they had done to her. During the last couple of hands, the men noticed Shakita dozing off on several occasions. They secretly came up
with a plan to set the deck and force her out of all her money. After Shakita lost all her money to the old man, they all split her part of the pot three ways, giving them $90,000 each of her $270,000 that she had obtained throughout the course of the game. The three men really caught her sleeping and took her for everything she had.

Shakita sat on a bench along the boardwalk and cried her little heart out. She felt so brainless for losing all her money that she wanted to knock herself in the damn head for being so stupid. She'd had all the money she needed to get her out of the jam she was in and she'd blown it all in a punk-ass poker game. If she could turn back the hands of time, she would have gotten up from the table before the last hand even started. Now she had nothing to play for and not a cent to even go back home with. She was all fucked up and had no one to blame but herself. Shakita was so tired and emotionally drained that she couldn't help but to cry herself to sleep. Her heavy head crashed on her shoulder, and she suddenly went into a deep slumber. She snored away heavily right along the boardwalk.

W
hy the fuck you ain't catch my call, you stupid-ass bitch?” was all Latrice heard when she accepted Bay's collect call.

She had accidentally missed his call on Friday messing around with Clarity, and now he was calling her back at ten a.m. on Monday morning mad as hell. “My bad, Bay. I was trying to make it to the phone on time. I thought you were going to call back.”

“Why couldn't you get to the damn phone? Did you have a nigga over there or somethin'?”

“No I didn't, and why are you all in my business anyway? You ain't my man no more.”

“Whatever, bitch. You know you lying like shit. I know you had a nigga over that mothafucka. That's why ya lil' dumb ass ain't pick up the jack, 'cause you was too busy fuckin'.”

“Whatever, Bay,” Latrice said with attitude. “You can believe whatever the fuck you want. I do me out here and you do your jailbird shit up in there.”

“You got a lot of tough talk in you over the phone, huh? Don't make me bank on ya lil' ass when I get out.”

I wish you would hit me again. I'll kill ya bama ass,
Latrice said to herself, becoming fed up with his ill ways.

She didn't want Bay to start beating her ass again when he got out, so she bit her tongue and kept what she really was feeling to
herself. Instead, she sucked her teeth, letting Bay know he still had control over her.

“That's what I thought, bitch,” Bay said, further intimidating. “Now did you handle any of my business like I told you to?”

“Yes, Bay. I got everything done for you.”

“Even the company logo?”

“Yes, Bay, that too. I did everything you asked of me when you asked me to do it. Everything is set up.”

Bay was pleased with her work and realized he didn't have to question his trust in her. She was his little soldier and without her, he would have no one to hold him down. Bay needed her.

“Good work, baby girl. You know I'm gonna take care of you when this thing blow up, right?” Bay said, finding a gangster way of thanking her.

“I know you will,” Latrice said unenthused.

She didn't like how Bay talked to her at times, but she couldn't really do anything about it, unless she gained another hundred pounds, and was able to knock a nigga out in one punch. Bay was indeed a brawler who had a huge temper and Latrice couldn't do much of anything when he got a hold of her. Bay had as much of a grip on her life in jail, as he did when he was out. She felt there was no escaping from him. Latrice continued to go along with whatever he said to make their business relationship run smoothly. That way she would keep herself from geting harmed.

Bay was temporarily distracted by another inmate who was walking nearby. The inmate gave Bay a hard look which he happily returned. There was bad blood between these two men and Bay had to let Latrice know who appeared before his eyes.

“I just seen ya lil' bitch-ass boyfriend walk by here.”

“Who you talking about?”

“You know who the fuck I'm talking about. Ya boy, Timbo.”

“That is not my boyfriend. It could have been, but you made sure he wasn't, remember?”

“You damn right. And I'll bring it to any nigga you ever try to fuck with.”

Latrice shook her head in disgust. “Why do you have to keep doing this to me? I'm not with you anymore and I should be allowed to talk to whoever I want. Do I go off on those disrespectful-ass bitches you be having me call on three-way all the time?”

“This ain't got nothing to do with them and you know better than to do that shit anyway. As long as me and you doing business together, I don't want no niggas around my shit, period. I can't trust nobody and with you fucking around with some dumb-ass nigga, my whole shit could get all fucked up! And I can't be having that! 'Cause if that happen, then somebody gotta…” Bay realized he was getting heated and didn't want to risk saying something he would regret over the phone. “Anyway. I gotta get off this jack. I'll tell Timbo you said hello.”

“Bay, please don't do anything dumb to get yourself more time. Remember you'll be out in less than a month.”

“I ain't going to let that little bitch-ass nigga keep me up in here. He definitely don't want that.”

“And neither do you. We have a record label to run and I need you out here.”

“Aight, man. I gotchu. I'm getting off. Now you remember to keep them niggas out ya bed and the money in ya head. Feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you,” Latrice said nonchalantly.

Bay smiled. “Aight. I'm out.”

“Bye.”
Click
. They both hung up the phone.

Latrice became depressed thinking about how Bay continued
to try and control her life. The mention of Timbo made her feel that Bay would risk himself getting out for handling their beef. She flashed back to last summer, which was the last time she'd seen Timbo.

•  •  •

“Hey, baby girl. I'm outside,” Timbo said as he pulled up to Latrice's apartment.

“Okay. I'll be right down in a minute.”

Latrice hung up the phone as nervous energy flowed through her body. It was her first date with Timbo and she didn't know what to expect. Her relationship with Bay had ended terribly two months ago and she was still trying to pick up the pieces. The sexual abuse from Bay had become so horrific that she definitely had to get away and find herself again. She moved out of her apartment and relocated across town where she hoped Bay wouldn't find her. Timbo was a breath of fresh air and a potential romantic prospect.

She'd met him a few months back when she was at the hair salon. While she was getting her hair trimmed and styled, Timbo walked in and approached her. She'd never had someone walk into a crowded hair salon and try his hand at getting her attention. She'd found it very sexy that he would go to such lengths to try and win her heart. Her stylist had forced her to take his number after he'd paid for Latrice's hair to get done.

She took a deep breath and walked out of her door as she anticipated their first date.

When Latrice exited her apartment building, she was in shock to see how Timbo greeted her.

He sat on the hood of his new moonlight-white Infiniti M56 holding a dozen white long-stemmed roses.

“You got those for me?” she asked, beaming.