Money-Makin' Mamas (12 page)

I had turned my tricks for the night and my bank account was sitting prettier. The redness near my eye from Mama's smack had no effect on my performances tonight, and I was able to cover the mark with makeup. With having light skin that was hard to do, but I had no worries. The men loved me, but never as much as I loved what their money did for my pockets.

It was no secret that my sisters and I were money-hungry bitches, but that was a decent title to have. We respected and accepted our profession, and not too many people knew what we had been doing behind closed doors.

Mama made that rule clear as day, but the rules that she had tossed our way wouldn't be abided by. If I wanted a pimp, I'd go get one. It was bad enough that she slapped me for shooting at Honey, but I didn't trip because we had fucked up by robbing him in the first place.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, Honey looked just like Ray. It was foolish of us not to recognize that the moment we set eyes on him. I regretted that Simone had to go take the shit we'd stolen back to him, and when she came into my room, I asked how she felt about doing it. Chyna was still in her room entertaining. I predicted that she would be done soon.

“I feel like shit,” Simone said, lying back on my bed and looking up at the ceiling. “I don't even know what I'm gon' say, and I hope that nigga don't trip with me. He seemed calm when we were robbin' his ass, so I'ma just throw that shit at him and run.”

We laughed then looked at the door when Chyna came in. She had on a hot-pink silk robe that cut right underneath her coochie. Her long braids hung on one shoulder and her tall, colorful heels looked as if they were embedded with diamonds. With a round, glowing face, Chyna's beauty couldn't be touched. I could tell by the smile on her face that tonight was a good night for her.

“Almost four Gs,” she said, rubbing the tips of her fingers together. “And I'm still countin'.”

“You're not done yet?” Simone said. “It's almost four in the mornin'. You should be done by now.”

Chyna sat on my high-heeled shoe chair that was covered in gold fabric. She crossed her legs and looked at me and Simone as we sat on the bed.

“I'm done, but Preston's cute self held me up tonight. He made me put in a little overtime. Now he wants to know if the three of us will hook up with him tonight or tomorrow. So, make the call,
chicas.
Are y'all gamin' for tonight or tomorrow? Y'all know that nigga pays up, so make the call so I can go tell him what's up.”

“Tomorrow,” Simone said. “We'll hook him up tomorrow. I got too much shit on my mind right now, and you know I'm hot about goin' to see Honey's ass.”

“I know,” Chyna said. “I'll go tell Preston to be ready tomorrow, but don't let meetin' with Honey scare you. If you want, I'll go with you. If he trip, brother or no brother, his ass can still get smoked.”

“I second that shit,” I said, folding my arms. “Do you want us to go with you?”

“Mama told me to go alone, and let's all get somethin' straight right now. I'm not scared of that nigga not one bit. I just don't want to confront his ass after stealin' his shit. That's all.”

“And you won't have to confront him alone because we were all in that shit together,” I said. “I know what Mama said, but I'm goin' with you. Chyna, you can stay here and find out where the fuck we gon' stay when we go to Vegas. I'm ready for our trip, like right now. I wish we could leave tomorrow.”

“In two weeks, we're out of here,” Chyna said. “I think I have an idea where I want to stay, but I'll let y'all know what's up. Until then, you go with Simone. And don't y'all get into no shit we can't get out of.”

“Never,” I said and we all laughed.

* * *

Early the next morning, Simone and I stood outside of what was supposed to be Honey's palace, and we knocked. It was a bad-ass, two-story crib made of brick. It had bay windows, a well-manicured lawn, big white columns, and a wrought-iron bench on the porch. Blooming flowers were everywhere, and richness was in the air. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought that some old-ass white people lived here. While Simone stood biting her nails, I knocked on the door again.

“Would you stop that?” I said to her. “I hate when you bite yo' nails like that. Besides, I thought you weren't nervous.”

She spat the nail from her mouth and shot it at me. “Don't play, heifer,” I said. “You better quit doin' that shit.”

She playfully rolled her eyes, and then we both got serious when we saw that ugly woman whose driver's license was in Honey's wallet when we stole it. Simone thought she was his wife, but as we got a close-up look at her, that couldn't even be possible because the bitch was too damn ugly. She had a face full of potholes, her hair was a dirty blond, and she looked like she had been doing meth for ages. Her cheeks were sunk in and her beady eyes made her look evil.

“Is Honey here?” I asked.

Without saying a word, she widened the door and let us come inside. I immediately looked up at the twelve-foot ceiling and the huge crystal chandelier that hung over the marble-topped foyer. The house looked fit for a king, and I wondered where in the fuck Honey had gotten this kind of money from. Brother or no brother, this motherfucker had the hookup. Simone's eyes roamed around too, and when the scary-looking trick walked us to a nearby office, she told us to have a seat.

We sat on a leather sofa with our legs crossed. I wore gold leather pants that almost matched the blond color in my short haircut. A leopard-print, off-the-shoulder top stretched across my breasts and my stripper-like high heels made me look as if I needed to find a pole.

Simone went nowhere without red on, but the stretch mini she wore was striped with black. Her long hair had tight flowing curls in it, and a few tresses dangled near her slanted eyes.

We didn't come here to fight with Honey, but his ass needed to hurry up before I dropped his shit on the big oak desk to the right of us and left.

I looked around at the fucked-up antique-looking pictures on the walls, and at a bookshelf filled with what looked to be ancient books on it. I couldn't help but laugh, because a nigga like him didn't even read. All of this mahogany wood bullshit was for show. A world globe sat next to his desk, and wanting to spin it, I got up to do it. But as soon as I stood, Honey swooped around the corner, stopping me dead in my tracks. All he had on was a wife beater, sagging blue jeans, and Tims. His locs were pulled back into a ponytail and a small diamond glistened in his ear. There was a Rick Ross–looking motherfucking behind him. They both stood in front of us with their arms locked across their chests.

“Stand up,” Honey said, looking at Simone.

I was already standing, and I damn sure didn't appreciate his tone. Neither did Simone.

“Stand up for what?” she shouted. “I'm perfectly fine sittin' right where I am. Whatever you have to say, say it so we can give you your stuff and get the fuck out of here.”

Honey reached behind him and retrieved a Glock 9 from his sagging jeans. He laid it on the desk then rubbed his hands together. “Bitch, I'm not gon' repeat myself. Stand the fuck up before this shit gets ugly. I got permission from yo' mama to put my foot in yo' smart ass. I just may decide to do it.”

Mama was tripping; then again, so was Honey. But in an effort to settle this shit, I asked Simone to stand and cooperate. She rolled her eyes, and after she stood up, the big motherfucker started patting us down. He started with me, but it felt like his fat ass was groping me instead of looking for something. I grabbed his hand and dug my nails deep into his flesh.

“Motherfucka, don't touch on me like that. What the fuck you lookin' for? Some available pussy? Sorry, but mine ain't available.”

“Neither is mine,” Simone said with her lips poked out. She smacked on her gum and dared the fat motherfucker to touch her.

Honey looked at the big nigga who had anger washed across his face. He wasn't looking too happy, and when Honey's fist tightened and slammed into Simone's midsection, that shit got my attention. She doubled over and grabbed her stomach. Honey grabbed the back of her hair and yanked her head up so she could look at him. By then, I had rushed forward, but was stopped by the big nigga who twisted my arm behind my back.

“Let me the fuck go,” I shouted and released a gob of spit in his face. He didn't flinch. His grip got tighter. It was hurting so bad that I had to drop down to my knees.

“Be still,” he shouted. “I swear I will break yo' goddamn arm if you keep resistin' me.”

Simone's eyes were flooded with anger as she stared at Honey. Her lips were still poked out and her breathing was heavy. I couldn't remember a day or time when I saw her look so upset. Honey's actions definitely had us speechless.

“Now that I have you bitches' attention,” he said. “That shit y'all did to me was foul. If I wasn't as cool as I was with Taffy, I swear I would kill both of y'all asses right now and sink you hoes in Mississippi River. But I'ma be real nice today. All I want y'all to do is give my shit back to me, get the fuck out of here, and I don't want to hear from y'all again.”

“That's what we came to do,” Simone said. “So let go of my goddamn hair and—”

“I swear I hate a bitch with too much mouth,” he said, pulling her hair tighter. Simone squeezed her eyes, trying her best to ease the excruciating pain he was delivering. “I'm tryin' to be nice, but yo' ass won't settle for my niceness. That's too fuckin' bad because I thought you were much smarter than that, sis.”

With a twisted face, he wrapped his hand around Simone's hair and dragged her over to his desk. He slammed her head on top of it and held her face with his hand so she couldn't move. He then picked up his Glock and pressed it with force against her temple. All Simone did was stare straight ahead. She said not one word, but the way she bit into her lip told me she was plotting. I tried to rush up from the floor again, but this time, I felt more pain when that big nigga tugged at my arm. All I could do on my knees was silently pray that Honey wouldn't hurt Simone and that we would be set free.

“You think yo' ass tough, don't you?” Honey said to Simone as he bent over her and whispered in her ear. She didn't answer, so he slammed the Glock on his desk to startle her. The only thing that caused was her eyes to flutter.

“Answer me when I'm talkin' to you, bitch! You think you some kind of gangbanger or somethin'? Is that who you are?”

Simone finally spoke up. My li'l sister was one bad and brave bitch. “Nigga, if you gon' shoot me, do it. Stop playin' games and talkin' shit, and pull the goddamn trigger.”

He snickered and so did the fat motherfucker who still had a grip on me. His dick was eye level, and I seriously thought about punching his ass, just to get him to release me. But Simone had my attention. I was proud of my sister. She proved to Honey that his threats weren't about shit.

Probably upset by her reaction, he pulled her up from the table and shoved her so hard that she stumbled and fell face first on the sofa. She quickly turned around and eyed him with a devilish stare.

“Bring that other bitch over here,” Honey said to his friend. He lifted me by my arm and pulled me over to the desk by Honey.

“I assume that since you're the one with the purse, you got my shit, right?” he said.

I nodded, and when Mr. Fat Ass let me go, I reached into my purse to give Honey his money and credit cards back. I kept my mouth shut, because I didn't want this situation to turn any uglier than it already had. What I didn't expect, though, was for him to count his money. Simone and I had stashed $500 underneath the seat in my car, so in a nutshell, we had come up short.

He snickered again and shook his head. He pulled his wife beater over his head and tossed it on the sofa next to Simone. His chest was buff and every inch of it was covered with tattoos. He then touched the fine hair on his chin and stroked it in thought.

“Sis,” he said, looking at Simone, “we have a problem.” He turned his wrist to look at the diamond watch that glistened on it. “I'ma give you about two minutes to tell me where my five hundred dollars is. If you don't tell me, all this talk gon' turn into action and your poor mother will have to bury two daughters, instead of one. If you think I'm playin', try me.”

I seriously wanted this over and done with. I didn't care if he was all talk, but I was sick of being in his presence. Simone wasn't buying his threats. She tapped her foot on the floor while rolling her eyes. “I don't know where yo' five hundred dollars is, and whatever Karrine gave you is all that we have.”

He looked at me, but I came clean. “It's in the car. I'll go get it, just so you can stop with yo' damn threats.”

His eyes shifted to the big dude whose only job was to take orders. “Take Simone outside to get my goddamn money. Tear their fuckin' car up to find it if you have to, but don't come back in here empty-handed.”

Simone didn't bother to move, but that didn't stop dude from pulling her up and throwing her over his shoulder. She swung out wildly and pounded the hell out of his back with her tightened fist. “Let me down, you ape-ass-lookin' nigga! I'm not gettin' shit!”

“If she's not willin' to get my money, throw that bitch in the basement until she chills the fuck out. Whatever you do, get my money out of the car and bring it to me.”

Big man left with Simone thrown over his shoulder. She kept hitting him, but I could tell that the punches hadn't hurt him in no way.