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Authors: L. E. Newell

The Grind Don't Stop (19 page)

BOOK: The Grind Don't Stop
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When he came out of it, Joyce looked him up and down and spat sassily, “Shiiit, nigga, tain't no need to be looking stupid. Yo ass, aight. Fix me up some of that.”

Sparkle blinked a few times to get himself together and cocked an eye at Violet, who nodded with her mouth twisted down. He wiped his mouth, then took a deep breath. “Bitch, give me a second. That shit there ain't no joke, yo.”

“Sec my ass, nigga, come on, yo ass feeling good. I wanna feel that good, too.” She practically screamed as she picked up one of the hypos, drew up some of the mixture, plucked it on the side and licked her lips in anticipation. He squinted at what she'd drawn up and thought,
I should let her loud-mouth ass do all of that there so she can shut her muthafucking mouth.
“Greedy-ass ho, you know damn well yo ass can't handle that much. I should go ahead and hit yo ass and watch you crawl all over the floor before your stupid ass dies. But I feel too good right now to have to clean the piss and shit that's gonna come out of your stanky ass.”

He could've never faced Violet knowing he'd let it happen. Plus, he still had ideals of banging that ass. He took one last good nod and snatched the hypo out of her hand and squirted some of it back into the cap. She wasn't even paying attention, too busy tying his belt around her upper arm.

Ignoring the wide-eyed look on her face, he pressed the needle up against her vein. As the needle started sliding in, she noticed that the tube was only half of what she'd drawn up; less than a third of what
he'd shot himself. Deep in her heart she knew that she couldn't stand it. She felt like he was trying to beat her for her shot. “What the fuck you call yourself doing, man?”

He looked at her and shook his head. “Bitch, shut the fuck up. I don't want your silly ass dying and throwing all up on me with your stupid ass.”

“Aw, man, that's fucked up, yo.” She frowned angrily.

“Aw, my ass.” He gritted as he reached for her arm. She yanked it away like she was really pissed off.

Violet lost patience with both of them. “Y'all bastards wanna stop with the dumb shit so I can get me a fucking blast? Damn.”

“Hell, baby, this bitch knows damn well that she can't handle dat,” Sparkle said. “Hell, I'm fighting not to throw up my damn self.”

Joyce, left holding the belt wrapped tightly around her forearm, balled her face up. “Who you calling a bitch, punk-ass nigga?”

“You bitch, because that's exactly how your low-tolerance ass be acting.” He growled and hit her with a stare that shut her mouth. She pouted and stuck her arm out. For a pure redbone, her veins were really hard to see. She yelped from the sting of the needle prick. “Ow, muthafucka.”

He wasn't hearing it. “Shut up, tender-ass bitch.”

“I…” she tried to complain.

“Bitch, I said shut the fuck up and keep your bony-ass arm still.”

Despite her angry grit, she complied. He had to stick her three times before he finally was able to register a hit, with her wincing like he was killing her the whole time. After jacking the plunger for the third time and seeing the beads of sweat pop out around her hairline, he said sarcastically, “Yo, jaw-jacking ass be acting like you all tough and shit. You ain't nothing but a soft wimp; can't
even take a little needle pinch without going through all that mushy girly stuff. Bitch, I swear.”

The rush hit her so hard that she wasn't able to say a thing, couldn't even muster up a swallow. Sweat started pouring down her face. “Whew.” She wheezed and moaned softly.

Sparkle leaned away and smiled. “Yeah, whew, aight, I told ya da shit was the bomb. And your sassy ass wanted the whole shot like you could carry it like that. You'd be kicking and rolling on the floor foaming out the mouth if I hadn't squirted some out.”

He was really enjoying the I-told-you-so when he felt a slight nudge at his elbow and Violet's voice ringing in his ear. “Okay, baby boy, get me fixed up before dat crazy-ass ho start to puking all over the place.”

Her flip remark must have triggered it. Joyce rose off of the bed with her hand covering her mouth and staggered toward the bathroom. She didn't quite make it to the toilet before the sound of her puking echoed throughout the room. He smiled and leaned sideways on his elbow, then shouted over the noise. “Dat's whatcha greedy ass get! I tried to tell yo hard-headed ass.”

Violet held out the hypo for him to hit her with and he smiled when he noticed she had squirted some back in the cap. “That's right, baby. I knew you wasn't gonna be acting all stupid like sister girl in there heaving her guts out.”

She smacked the pit of her arm and rubbed it up and down vigorously. “Take your time and make sure that you be careful with that needle. You nearly tore my skin off the last time.” He drew a hit on the first try and injected the dope into her vein. As he started to jack for the second time, she grabbed his hand and jerked from his grip. She jumped up and rushed to the bathroom.

When she disappeared through the door, he heard two grunts. He rushed over and fell back laughing at the sight of Violet. She
was hanging over the tub with her feet dangling over Joyce's legs, whose head was stuck down in the toilet bowl, Her body was still heaving and gagging.

He bent over holding his side for several seconds before he was finally able to speak. “See there, I told both of y'all greedy-ass hoes that shit was the bomb.” A series of more gags and coughing answered him.

Before he could go help them, the phone started ringing. Sparkle rushed back into the room in time to catch it on the third ring.

“Whatzup, dog?”

“Who da fuck is this?” he started to say before he was cut off.

“My nigga, it's me. Whatcha doing?”

Sparkle's head was still ringing from the speedball rush, so he didn't recognize the voice immediately.

“It's Rainbow, fool, yo ass must've run into some bomb-ass dope or sumthing, huh?”

He sat up straighter on the bed. “Yeah, dog, I hear ya.”

“Damn, you must've really hit a good one there. Ha ha ha, nigga can't even talk. Betcha mouth all twisted up and shit, huh? Make sure you save me some of that shit there, dog.”

Sparkle wiped his brow with a damp rag and looked down at the rivulets of sweat rolling down his chest, steadily drenching his shirt. “Uh-huh, shit be good, dog, fo sho. So what up?”

“I betcha it is. Anyway, get yourself together. I'll take my time getting over there.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Uh-huh. Yo, dude, ‘B' done split with the girls, says that he'll holla.”

“When this happen?” Sparkle's voice slurred.

Recognizing that his boy was really fucked up from the hit, Rainbow took a deep breath. “Aw, man, tell you what, partner. I
can tell yo ass did some really good shit. Who you score that shit from? Naw, fuck dat, it don't make a difference. Draw yourself up a good shot of girl by itself. That'll help knock some of the effect of that boy down a bit.”

Sparkle continued to wipe at the sweat. “Okay, I'll do that. When you saying you coming? Whatcha got planned anyway?”

“Just got a call from our boy Duke. He's with Googie and they gonna hit the 617 tonight.”

“Whaddafuck you say, man?” Sparkle grumbled and sat up.

“Said you got to get straight, man, 'cause we gonna hit that bitch tonight, playa.” His voice had gotten really serious, real intense. “Just do like I told. We'll talk about it when I get over there.”

“When?”

“Aw, man, you really are fucked up. Get it together, dog. I'll be over there in a half-hour or so.”

“Aight. Aight, I'll see ya then,” he replied between nods. He hung up and reared back on the bed, realizing that the heroin had definitely overridden the effects of the coke. Only one thing to do, hit some of the girl by itself. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the girls emerging out of the bathroom.

He had to blink several times. He couldn't believe that those crazy hoes were dabbing themselves with toilet tissue. He shook his head. Maybe he was too high. Naw, it was true. Pieces of tissue were sticking all over their necks, jaws and arms. “Y'all some crazy-ass hoes. Y'all too damn wet, sticky and sweaty to be trying to dry off with some tissue. Come on now, that shit there is straight-up ridiculous.”

Two sets of female darts shot spears at his head before Violet said, “Shit ain't funny, man, not funny worth a damn.”

“Oh hell yeah it is, too. Y'all some clowns straight up.” He kept laughing.

“Aw, fuck you, man.” Joyce threw her two cents worth in, bumping his hip as she sat down mumbling incoherently before scooting away from the contact.

He faked an elbow at her and drew the coke into the hypo and started flexing his fist to get the vein to pop up. His eyes brightened when he spotted one right away and plunged in. “I told y'all the stuff was...” He couldn't finish because the rush forced him into silence.

Violet patted herself down before she looked at Joyce. “Honey, where dat cell phone? I know I had it when we was at the gas station. Whew, girl, I gotta stop doing this shit here, for real.”

Joyce wiped her face, pinched her nose and started massaging her bottom lip trying to remember where it could be. Suddenly her eyes lit up. “Aw, damn, I think I left it in the car. Yep, that's where it's at.”

Violet frowned and cocked her brow. “Well, go get it, girl. Ain't no telling who's been trying to call us.”

When she left Violet turned to him, still picking tissue off of her face and neck. “Who was that on the phone?” When he didn't respond right away, she grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Damn, man, you deaf or something?”

He grimaced from the sharp pain of her nails digging into his flesh. But the rush from the coke storming through his body held his anger intact. It also gave him time to get himself together before answering her. “Oh, I heard you, girl, that was Rainbow.”

She rolled her eyes and reached around him to pick up the hypo and began drawing up water to cleanse the blood residue for the next hit. “What the fuck he want? Didn't we just leave his ass at the hotel?” she mumbled, then had an afterthought. “Man, I ain't in the mood to be toting one of his dense-ass bitches around boosting and shit.”

He shot up the coke. “Naw, baby, this ain't about no boosting. I think we're about to pull this sting off at the 617. You think that crazy-ass Joyce is up to playing lookout on the strip while we do our creep thing?”

Violet pulled out of her nod and muttered in a slurry voice, “Damn, I was sorta pumped up to hit a few holes to get off some of this stuff we done bagged up, to tell you the truth.”

He frowned. “Star, we've been planning this here for a minute. It's time to pull this thing off, enough said.”

Joyce came back into the room moaning. He could tell she'd overheard at least a piece of their conversation and was probably anticipating rolling out for a good score. After all she'd played a major part in getting the girl to get the combination to the safe.

To appease her eagerness he was about to tell her the plan to hit the club. He was rewarded with her game face. As worrisome as she was, he had to admit that honey was definitely all about getting paid and thrilled about pulling a stunt over on some top players.

It didn't feel like a half-hour had passed when he heard car doors slamming. It was time to get to stepping.

Rainbow dapped past him decked out in a dark brown suit. His initials were embroidered in shiny gold letters atop the shirt pocket. His brown leather umpire cap, pulled down low over his eyes and shining Stacy Adams gator boots, set the outfit afire.

Sparkle leaned against the wall admiring his boy. “Damn, nigga, I know damn well you ain't about to go
GQ
up in that bitch. On the real, playa, why you so fucking fly like we going on a high-fashioned picnic or a players ball or something?”

Rainbow strolled to the middle of the room and spun around in fashion show flair, twirling one of his signature ivory canes with a rams head knob on the top. Stepping behind him just as
flashy was Cheryl and Sherry chatting away like a couple of high-class divas.

When Rainbow saw Joyce, his eyes lit up. To Sparkle's surprise she kicked the refrigerator door closed and walked right up to Rainbow with a cheesy smile and two cans of Miller beer. She handed him one, patted his cheek. “Come on, pretty muthafucka, that fly-ass entrance worked like a charm.” She grabbed his hand and led him toward the bedroom.

Joyce stopped at the door and looked around at Sparkle. “Well, knucklehead, why you standing there looking all stupid and shit for?” she said sassily. “Come on.”

The twins must have thought she was talking to them, too, so they followed. They'd taken only a few steps when Rainbow spun around and pinned them with an icy stare. They turned around and headed back to the living room and sat down on the couch.

“Bitches know better than to follow me out of command,” he mumbled and then gave Joyce a nudge. He followed her into the room.

Sparkle overheard Rainbow saying, “You sure that bitch is totally scooped because we gonna need you to stay tight on her ass for another day or two in case she starts some shit. Might have to take her ass out, if she starts to sway, you feel me?”

Joyce, out of habit whenever she was on the verge of getting excited, started pulling on her ear lobe. “Nigga, please, ain't no way that bitch would play me like that. That damn pussy voodoo's on her for sure, man.” She leaned forward, all up in Rainbow's grill, stabbing him in the chest with her sharp manicured fingers and frowned. “Oh, hell yeah, and I've been wanting to get back at that big black-ass nigga every since he slapped my sister Nita Bug in front of all those folk at the Decatur Festival. Hey, my pushing this magic pussy in her face must have worked because here's the
combination to the safe right here.” She reached into her bra and waved the folded piece of paper under his nose.

BOOK: The Grind Don't Stop
10.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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