Hood Misfits, Volume 1 (14 page)

This nigga was on one. Couple of things had my mind on rotation as I stood in Dame's room. One, DOA seemed to stand out like flashing lights for me, and two, Big Jake and me were standing watching this nigga get his cock handled while barking out orders to us 'bout what we needed to get ready once we went up to Decatur.

Spit on flesh—the sound of Diamond's mouth workin' her suction like a pro—was all we heard after a while standing there. I wondered what the fuck was Dame's problem. A chuckle escaped from me, making me shake my head.

I knew what was wrong with him. Nigga was basic and on some territorial bullshit. Whateva, man. No doubt, watchin' Diamond had my dick interested, but since she was on her knees like a ho because of Dame, the image of her like that kept my shit limp, which worked in my favor.

Dame glared at me. “Fuck you laughin' at, nigga? Something I said was comical relief?” He sat wide-legged, trying to act like his wasn't ready to slob at the mouth as Diamond worked him up. His hand clenched his cane, and his light eyes were already dark.

By the way he was breathing, that nigga was two seconds away from a nut, which was lame, because she had just started. Or it was just that good.

“Naw, bossman, something I was thinkin',” I quickly explained, so as not to deal with some dramatic bitch-as-sness from him, “do we need to get on ya level, bossman, and get us some nice threads? Just was laughin' at myself thinking about that shit. Never wore a suit before but was thinkin', since I'm ya right now and Big Jake ya guard, we gotta represent you with the movers and shakers. Just thought that was funny. Feel me? Us in suits. You pull that off. Me, Big Jake? Naw, I don't know, bossman.” I would have rubbed my jaw, but the way my hoodie was set up, my face was partially covered with the image of a skull, so I crossed my arms over my chest, just watching.

I tried to get Big Jake to play in on the act, but something was off with the nigga. Earlier, when he came to get me after Dame told us to basically come watch him get a nut, dude seemed quietly distant, as if I had did some shit to him. Now, dude was standing like a gargoyle, cold and deathly, like he was known to be in the streets as Dame's guard. I wasn't feeling that shit 'cuz it was directed at me. Before now, even as we played the game, we always made sure to have some secret cues, which Dame couldn't pick up on, that we were cool. But now even that wasn't there. Nigga was ice-cold, eyes blank. Shit wasn't cool at all. Something had happened.

“A'ight. Bounce. Hit up some spots to get a suit. You two got like four hours. You late, that's ya ass,” as Dame said that, nigga came all in Diamond's mouth. He grunted then pulled back and let that shit rain on her face.

If I thought he wasn't trying to fuck with both of us, the moment he locked eyes on me then held Diamond by the back of her neck to press his dick against her face, I knew he was on some challenge shit.
This nigga!
So, I did like I always did with crazy niggas like him. I crossed my arms and let out a rare laugh then walked out. Nigga shit, I swear. New pussy makes even the most loyal nigga dumb.

Big Jake followed me. I really wanted to find out what the fuck was up with homie. One thing about this game, if your crew wasn't in the same head as you, then it could fuck up the whole rotation.

Because the house always had some snitching bitches in it, male and female, I waited until we got outside and got into the black-on-black Escalade that was Big Jake's responsibility. I got in the whip, and we rode off. I wanted to see just how long this nigga would hit me with some bitch-ass silence shit. So once, we made it out of the Trap and hit up the spot Dame told us to get our suits at, I got out then waited for Big Jake to round the car. That was when I walked right at his side, looking straight ahead as I spoke low.

“Nigga, fuck is wrong with you, huh?”

Big Jake said nothing, just kept walking.

Wasn't shit I could do about it, so I got quiet with him, thinking. Until that nigga snatched me by my throat and pushed me down the side of the building, slamming me into a brick wall. All I saw was stars for a moment as I smelled the sour odor of trash behind us. The familiar feel of steel against my temple had me feeling like a betrayed nigga, and anger had my fingers itching. I quickly drew the gun I had hidden in the sleeve of my hoodie and pressed it against Jake's side as I stared death in the eyes.

Jaw clenched, my nostrils flared, and my eyes narrowed. “I ain't even scared to die, but before I go, two things—Fuck is up with you? And you going with me, nigga.”

Jake's huge fist found my face, stunning me.
Did this nigga just hit me? Is he really about to go there with me?
I mean, yeah, he had me up by my throat, but fuck his life, yo! He really was placing hands on me; all loyalty was off at that moment, so I swung back, connecting to his jaw.

As we scrapped in the middle of the alley, the sounds of our grunts then the sound of the safeties coming off our guns echoed around us. Because he had hit me, I was able to break free. I stood facing Jake's giant ass. Blood spilled down his face, and I swore I saw tears mixed in. He pulled out his cross and kissed it, the one his grandmother had given him, and I knew some shit was up.

A cool breeze stung my face. My hood fell back, and some of my locks had loosened to cover my face and stuck to the sweat and blood that covered me. Nigga still wasn't talking, but just by his actions, I knew it had to be about his grandmother. That was when the pieces started forming.

“Yo! I didn't take your gram out, man! I wouldn't stand there in your face acting like I did. Nigga, think, bro! I'm ya boy!” I hissed out, pissed all the way off, slamming my free hand against my chest.
Who the fuck got to him? And why?

“I trusted you, fam, helped you out when you had no fuckin' body.”

I shook my head in confusion. I wasn't down for this shit. That was one thing that bothered me—fuckin' with my reputation, especially when I knew it was lies.

“Yo, I ain't did nothing to you, Jackson! I wasn't even Dame's gun when your grams was taken out. I ain't do that shit! That ain't my MO ever!”

Jake's huge solid chest rose up and down as he tried to catch his breath. His large hands fisted even as he held his gun out my way. Dude looked like a wounded Doberman, red eyes and flaring nostrils. I could tell he didn't want to do this, to take me down, which helped me not write this fucka off and pump a bullet right into his skull. He was my fam in this war, and I had to hold him down like he did me. It just was hard right now 'cuz nigga looked possessed or high.

Jake spat, “Naw! Fuck dat shit, yuh heard! I heard Dame talking about that shit to some of the new niggas coming through, said it all, and said they needed to get like you 'cuz that was ya first kill for him.”

My first kill for Dame was never some old lady. That was one thing I'd never done, killed women, elders, or kids, and I never will, unless they like Dame. Dame was a lying muthafucka and trying to start some shit. More like, get me killed. His own fuckin' gun? Can you believe that shit? Or was he trying to get Big Jake killed? What the fuck? Yo, nigga was bound for hell for real.

“Jake, man, we don't have time for this bullshit. You need to think, homie. On my word, that's not my M.O. Never slung bullets at my elders, women, or kids, homie. Never. And my first kill for Dame was not your gram, it was some punk-ass nigga who stole some product from one of the houses. I never done you wrong, except to fuck your face up just now, bro. Think on that shit. I wouldn't have trusted you or brought you into my real home, nigga! Or lace you up with that auto shop! I ain't like that, man. That wasn't me!” I holstered my gun to show I was being about truth, holding my hands up and out. All I could do was wait while Jake studied me, trying to see if I was telling the truth.

See, the difference between Jake and me in this killing game was, if it was me in his shoes, how my mind work, nigga woulda been dead as he was talking his truth. But, that was me, and this was Jake. We had history and a code of respect.

Jake's hand quickly came up to wipe the sweat, blood, and tears from his face. He shifted back and forth then holstered his gun. Both of his hands came up to cradle the back of his low-cropped head as he looked down at his feet in pain. I never realized until then how much he looked like David Banner until now.

“That was my heart. Raised me as a baby, Trigga. On my word, how he laid that shit out, it sounded like what you told me, man, made it sound like you were the lying one. I . . .” He looked up at me and then punched the wall.

Broken brick crumbled around where his meaty fist made contact, and I kept my distance.

“Look, man, something is going on, a'ight. That nigga runnin' his mouth with lies, bro. I need you back on the team, or I can put a bullet in you right now. Feel me? You held me down when I had no one, so get that shit together. E.N.G.A., nigga! That even means Dame! He got some shit planned, and he's pissed because he thinks I want Ray-Ray. So he's acting stupid, which is dangerous. Don't let that nigga run game, bro. Don't do that. You know our plan, so stick to it. On my word, I'll find out who he ordered to take out your grams, and I'll help you take that nigga out if he's still alive. But don't make me take my own bro out, a'ight. Don't, man.”

For the first time in a long time, I realized I cared about someone outside of my parents. He really was like a brother to me.

Jake's eyes locked on me, his shoulders slumped. I studied him while he walked up and held his hand out in peace.

“I always believe God don't put too much on anyone that they can't take,” he said. “You would have taken me out, but like you said, bro, I would have taken you out too. Blood brothers for life, man. My bad for dropping trust.”

The voice of a preacher was back in my homie. When he spoke like that, I knew he was a'ight and could be trusted. So I took his hand, and we both bumped shoulders then stepped back. I pulled some of my loose locks back and fixed my jacket.

Jake did the same, fixing his clothes and rubbing his jaw. We checked our watches to see how much time we had then quickly went inside the shop, leaving that bullshit behind us in the alley.

Rich folks moved around, getting help from different workers, broads, and dudes who kept walking past us, ignoring us. We stood at the entryway for like a good five minutes before they looked at us with fear in their eyes.

My pops always told me that a man reflects who he is in how he dresses before even opening his mouth. This can be used for good or to fuck with people's mental. With me and Big Jake, right now, we were fuckin' with people's heads, and it was just what it was. How we lived was how we dressed, and ain't shit we could do about it, except for the coin Dame gave us. Before anyone could call the cops or feel threatened, Jake spat out Dame's name, and everyone in the shop changed up their look and started helping us out.

Jake glanced my way as if still having a hard time shaking that we almost lost our lives due to Dame's bullshit. As some redhead chick who looked kind of nice took my numbers, he came over and gave me dap one more time while my arms were stretched out.

I let a smile spread across my face and nodded. “I was just where you were, homie, and you helped me. So it's icing. We good for life, if you really mean it, bro.”

“You know I do, bro. Anyway, you right, punk. This suit shit is extra,” Jake joked, moving back to where a dark-haired chick ran her fingers over the inside of his legs to get his numbers again.

“We can provide you both with some nice vests. We'll put the jackets on the side and keep you two professional, handsome as you two are, and flashy,” the redhead said, glancing her blue eyes up at me as she kneeled before me.

I could tell she was trying to flirt now, but I wasn't into it. Once a person ignored me just once, then I pretty much was not into noticing that person ever again. Wasn't nothing the broad could do for me but finish my outfit.

“Yeah, vests would work. Leave all flash to bossman; that's his style,” I said, looking at my reflection.

Had to say, what they had me trying on was kinda dope on me, if I wanted that business look. I sported black slacks with a red shirt. Then the redhead fitted a vest on me.

I picked up my cell to look at Youtube to see how to wear a tie. I wasn't really about putting a tie on. Shit reminded me of nooses, but for the look of this fit and not to hear bossman's yapping mouth, I let the redhead put one on me. I worked the knot in a way that didn't make me feel like I was choking. I never had my pops here to show me how to do these things, which made this all bittersweet for me just that fast.

Dame took that from me, but it was cool. Payback was coming. I remembered watching my mom pick my pop's outfits. Remembered how he seemed to love how she dressed him and worked his ties or ironed his suits. It was something private about it. And fuck if I didn't know the right word, but it looked like they were fuckin' without actually fuckin' when she dressed him, and it made me proud as a kid. I wanted that.

My mind went to Diamond. I wondered what it would be like to have her do those things for me. Wondered how sexy she would look if I could watch her pick out a fit that matched me now, some type of dress that hugged her curves and made her dark cinnamon skin glow.

“Hey, Trigg, you look like a college kid, man. Good look,” Jake joked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

Laughing, I rubbed where my beard only covered my chin. I had to agree, I looked good. “Fuck you, nigga! You look like one too. Nah, wait . . . ya look like one of those frat dudes from
Stomp the Yard
. ”