Retribution (16 page)

“Sugah-boo, that greasy-coon tried to do you,” she stated, standing in the doorframe of my bathroom as I washed blood from my
face, trying to convince her to take a break and get out of the office. “You need to get out ‘n' get you some fresh air to get ya mind right.”

“Oh, trust. My mind is more right than it's been in a long time.”

She tooted her lips. “Mmmph. All'a bitch is tryna do is get you outta the buildin' for a taste so you ain't gotta be locked up in ya office, wonderin' what these messy bitches up front sayin' 'bout ya ass. But if you wanna sit up in here with ya face all lumped up and that nigga-coon's dingaling hairs all between ya teeth, starin' at the walls, then do you, sugah-boo.”

I blinked, blinked again.

She continued, “After the way that nigga-coon tried to do your face, it's time you stop draggin' ya heels ‘n' turn it up on his ass.”

“Oh, I'm ready. I'm fucking done with his black ass. And the sooner I shut his ass down, the better.”

“Allllright now, goddammit. You talkin' my talk, sugah-boo. Now, get ya handbag, sweetness, ‘n' let's get the hell outta here so we can come up with a plan to do that nigga-bitch up right.”

“Booty, I can't. I have another client coming in.”

“Oh, no goddammit.
Boom-boom,
sugah-boo. See. You standin' here tryna do me with lies, Miss Pasha, girl. I done already swept my eyes across the schedule book up front before I came back here to talk to you. So don't do me, Miss Pasha, girl.”

I couldn't help but laugh. I was busted.
This bitch has no boundaries,
I thought as I gathered my things, then locked up my office.

Five minutes later I was walking out of the salon, climbing up into the buttery soft seat of Booty's Range Rover and letting her drag me out.

And here I am…

In the heart of the hood.

At her house!

Sitting in her living room, on a plush leather sofa flanked by gorgeous marble end tables. A Bose home entertainment system is connected to a sixty-five-inch Sony television on the wall in front of us. There's a one-hundred-and-forty-gallon fish tank built into the wall on the right side of me with gorgeous tropical fish and coral reef inserts. And all of her kids' rooms—with the exception of her daughter's, which is a hot sloppy mess—is piped out with flat-screens, Apple PC's, and every latest game system out. I'm speechless!

“And this is how Day'Asia's filthy-ass is livin',” she stated as she opened the door to her room. “I ain't buyin' this nasty bitch shit 'til she learn how'ta keep her room clean. She lucky I broke down ‘n' bought her that mattress ‘n' box spring, but you see she ain't got no bedframe. She wanna be ghetto, then that bitch gonna sleep on the floor on them hard-ass K-mart sheets I bought her ass.”

This is my first time ever seeing how Booty lives. Not only is it clean—the shit's laid out, like something out of a damn magazine. And as I'm sitting here listening to her rattle on, I can't help but keep thinking, “this bitch's driving a Range Rover, gets Section-8, almost nine-hundred dollars in food stamps, and has tens of thousands of dollars' worth of high-end shit in a home she rents and there are people who really need services and can't get them.”
Something's seriously wrong with this picture.

“Miss Pasha, girl, I had everything redone after that nigga-coon came up in here and tried to do me. My tables ‘n' shit were all busted up from gettin' tossed up fuckin' wit' his ole crazy dead ass. I had them do me that fish tank in the wall over there, too. It was time to upgrade any-damn-way.”

Who the hell cuts a hole into a wall of a home they're only renting to put a fish tank in it?

Anyway, it's not my concern.

“Oooh, I wish you woulda took it to the nigga-coon's skull,” Booty says, causing me to look at her. “That coon-bitch nigga shoulda went rollin' out on a stretcher for doin' ya face up ‘n' tryna snatch that cootie-coo, sweetness.”

“Next time he will,” I assure her.

“So how you wanna do these nigga-bitches, Miss Pasha, girl? 'Cause I'm ready to get messy, goddammit. And you know I don't do messy. But, them kinda niggas gotta get it real messy.”

I push out a heavy sigh. “I…”

She hops up from the sofa. “Oooh, wait, sugah-boo. Hol' that thought. Let me go get my head right so I can relax my mind. I don't like to talk messy unless I'm in the right frame of mind.” Her round ass bounces and shakes as she walk-runs down the hall. “We got three hours before the twins get home from school so we got plenty of time to chop it up real right, Sugah-boo,” she calls out from down the hall. A few minutes later, she comes walking back with a bottle of Hennessy in one hand, two shot glasses and a fat blunt in the other.

I put a hand up to stop her from pouring me a drink. It's twelve-thirty in the afternoon. And I have to get back down to the salon soon. “Oh, no, girl, I'm good. You go on ahead and do you. But don't get your ass too tossed. I need you to get me back to the salon in one piece.”

“Ooooh, nooo, sweetness. You tryna do me. Booty can drink a bar out ‘n' still handle her business. I ain't ever gonna get so sauced I can't drive. I ain't tearin' up my shit.” She fills both shot glasses. “Now, c'mon.” She offers me a shot glass. “One taste ain't even gonna hurt you, Miss Pasha, girl.”

“No, really.” I glance at my watch. “I'm gonna have to get back to the salon soon.”

Her brows furrow. “Don't do me, Miss Pasha, girl. You don't have another appointment 'til five o'clock. You ain't ever been to my home and you mean to say you can't relax your heels for a few. And I know you can use you a lil taste to numb that face, sugah-boo. I know that nigga-coon got ya face on fire. So don't even get cute. Step off that high horse ‘n' c'mon down wit' the real bitches. You can have you one drank with me. As much coins I done spent in your salon, Miss Pasha, girl. And this how you gonna do me?”

Oh this bitch is really tryna guilt me.
I give her an incredulous look, reluctantly taking the glass. “Booty, you're a damn mess, you do know that, right?”

“But I ain't ever messy. Now bottoms up, sugah-boo.” She tosses her drink back. I follow right behind her, shaking my head as the elixir slides down into my chest, burning.

• • •

Three shot glasses later, I'm feeling more relaxed than I anticipated. My heels are kicked off and my left foot his curled up under my right leg. I have my left arm draped over the top of the sofa. My body slightly shifted toward Booty. She's tossed back her fifth shot. And has smoked her blunt practically down to a roach.

“Miss Pasha, girl. I don't even know why I like your high-class ass. But I do, sugah-boo,” she says, blowing a thick cloud of smoke up into the air. “You a real classy bitch. But you a sneaky bitch, too.…”

I blink.

“Well, it's true, sweetness. You know Booty ain't one for lies ‘n' games. I keep shit a hunnid, sugah-boo. But, anyway, you a mess, Miss Pasha, girl. Then I find out you is a cock ‘n' cum freak, on top of that. Yes,
FahverGawd.
You are a mess. You better be glad I ain't no nigga 'cause I'd have my dingaling all down in ya gullet.
Yes, gawd, I'd fuck ya throat raw, Miss Pasha, girl. Ooh, you so lucky I ain't got me no real dingdong hanging over this cootie-coo. I'd give you what you like, goddammit. Do that throat up right.…”

Mygod…this bitch has no limits!

“And here's two things I know for sure when it comes to you: a bitch bet' not ever say some sideways shit 'bout you to me or they gonna get a bottle to they heads. And when it comes to keepin' this hair did, can't a bitch do me like you do. But, mmmph, when we was in sixth grade I wanted to be your friend, but you wasn't beat for a bitch like me.”

“That's not true,” I lie. Truth is, I did my best to avoid her. She was loud, obnoxious, and extremely wild back then. Mmmph. Even now…not much's changed.

But here I sit.

She rolls her eyes, waving me on. “Oh, please. You was one'a them real uppity light-skin bitches with them pretty cat eyes. Ole spooky-lookin' bitch. But you was real cute. A lil too cute for ya own good, Miss Pasha, girl. All them street niggas stayed tryna suck the liner out ya drawz back then. And now you tryna suck the nut out theirs.”

I feign insult. “Ohmygod, I can't believe you'd say some mess like that. That's so not true. We were just from two different worlds; that's all. You were a little too fast and wild for me, girl. All that fighting you did.”

“Oooh, yess. I did have to drag a few bitches through the playground. I had to let them hatin' hoes know.” She laughs. “And you know this big booty kept them lil horny niggas givin' up them lunch tickets ‘n' milk money. But don't you even do me, Miss Pasha, girl, 'cause you
know
I know you used to do a lil slicin' ‘n' dicin' ya'self. And I saw you drag plenty'a bitches ya'self,
sugah-boo. And didn't you get dragged off in handcuffs a few times, too? Ooooh, yes, goddammit! You done got soft as cotton, Miss Pasha, girl. You need to pull that street bitch back out ‘n' get it turnt up, goddammit!”

I shift in my seat. “Girl, that was then. This is now. People change, or at least try to. So let's fast-forward.” I give her a serious look, wanting to change the subject. I let her know I really appreciate her wanting to have my back.

She twists her lips. “Sugah-boo, we gonna slay them niggas real right. And I mean that shit. Speakin' of which, you still ain't said shit 'bout that lil note I gave you the other night. Did you even look at it?”

I'd honestly forgotten about it. Without going into a bunch of details, I tell her I've had so much other shit going on that it keeps slipping my mind. I rummage through my handbag. But then it dawns on me when I can't find it that I've changed bags. “Cassandra, girl, I don't know what I did with it so you might as well tell me what it was.”

She grunts. “Mmmmph…see you playin' games, Miss Pasha, girl. A real bitch is out here in the trenches for you, sugah-boo, ‘n' the least you can do is be on top of shit I give you…”

I frown. “Ummm, wait one minute, Cass. Don't get it confused.
I
didn't ask
you
to jump down in the trenches to do shit, okay. You did that shit because you wanted to. Because you
like
being in the middle of shit that really has nothing to do with you. So whatever dirt you got up caked up under your fingernails is by your own doing. So let's get that straight right now.”

“Hol' up, wait a minute, goddammit, Miss Pasha, girl. See you tryna be messy. I ain't gotta damn thang confused, sweetness. The confused one is
you
for marryin' Jasper's crazy-ass, but I ain't
tryna get messy wit' you, sugah-boo, 'cause that's not how I do mine. But you tryna take me there. So don't do me. I
know
you ain't ask me to get down ‘n' dirty for you. I did it 'cause you my goddamn boo. And I'm not lettin' no goddamn nigga-coon do my boo ‘n' they think they gonna get away with it. No, goddammit. Not today, sugah-boo.

“So you can sit up on your messy-ass high horse ‘n' toss shit down on me if you want, Miss Pasha, girl. But know this: Ain't another bitch out here gonna set it off like me. And you know I don't do messy, but I'm ready to get messy with you, sugah-boo. And can't a bitch bring it like I do. Not even Mona's scary ass. Where's that bitch at now? Somewhere rockin' ‘n' wringin' her goddamn hands. So get yo' mind together. Get yo' life, goddammit! And let's do these nigga-coons in.”

This bitch doesn't care what she says. But she's right. It's time for action. It's time to bring them niggas down. But I'd rather not be involved in any of Booty's shenanigans. Her ass is too reckless.

Maybe reckless is what I need to finally get this shit over with once and for all.

“Now, is you ready to set it off on these coon-niggas or what? One thing about Booty, baby, I do
whatever
I gotta do to get the job done, goddammit. A nigga-bitch tries to fuck me over, I'ma fuck 'em first. And, trust, sugah-boo. I'ma tear they asshole out the frame. It's gonna be rough ‘n' goddamn dirty. And that's how we need'a bring it to them coon-niggas. Now to answer ya question 'bout what was on that paper I gave you. You know, the piece of paper you ain't even look at…”

I sigh. “Booty, will you tell me what was on it, please.”

She smacks her lips. “I gave you that nigga-coon AJ's address.”

“Suck my dick, bitch!”

My pulse quickens. “His address? How'd you get it?”

“I have my ways, sweetness. Now you wanna go there tonight ‘n' kick in his door. Let's take it to his head, goddammit.”

I shake my head. “No, no. Everything that happens needs to happen quietly. I don't want a bunch of unnecessary attention drawn to us. I wanna catch every last one of them when they least expect it. I don't want anyone to ever be able to link shit back to me, or you.”

“Oh, no, sugah-boo. Booty knows how'ta move. I can reel his ass in for you. All I gotta do is tell him I'm ready to put this booty heat up on that stumpy dick ‘n' he'll come runnin'.”

“That's definitely something to consider. Oh, before I forget. Do you know anyone who has a tow truck?” She tells me she does. Scrolls through her contacts, then texts the number to my phone. “Thanks.”

Something comes over me and I make a quick call to Sophia to find out if Jasper went to the house. She tells me no. I let out a sigh of relief. I don't trust him.
That motherfucker might try to take my son.
I tell her I want her to pack some things for Jaylen and have the car service drive them up here. That I'll meet them at the townhouse, then disconnect the call.