Young-Minded Hustler (11 page)

Read Young-Minded Hustler Online

Authors: Tysha

BOOK: Young-Minded Hustler
6.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“You have no idea how much I miss you. All I do is think about you, boo. I love you,” Monica said with sadness.
“I miss you too, girl. Have you been doing what I asked? I want you to be prepared when I touch down.” Prince smiled at the thoughts he was having.
“I'm watching one right now.”
“Are you seeing anything you want to try?”
“Yes, there's one called the joystick joy ride. It's when I would straddle you and put my feet near your head and tilt my back slightly,” Monica explained proudly.
Prince was much more experienced with sex. He'd been kicking it with older women since he was fourteen. Those older girls taught him things that he wanted Monica to learn. He was her first and she wasn't comfortable with her sexuality. Certain things embarrassed Monica and kept Prince from totally enjoying having sex with her. Prince asked Monica to watch movies, videos, read books, and study up on the
Kama Sutra.
He also suggested she learn how to masturbate. Prince explained that if she knew how to please herself, she could teach him how to please her. Monica was willing to do anything to keep Prince from cheating on her again. So, she did as he asked. Her letters to him were reflective of her good study habits.
“That sounds good, babe. What else?”
“We can try a tight squeeze where we're both horizontal with you on top of me. I thought we could take a shower together and attempt the frisky floor show position too,” Monica said excitedly. She thought it would be fun taking a shower with her man.
“You're starting to get me hard, girl. I'm not sure what that is but it sounds real good.” Prince took a deep breath.
“I'd bend over, touching my palms on the floor, and you'd enter me with one strong penetration. The book says this position puts you in complete control.”
Monica was proud of her findings and sharing them with Prince. She hoped he was proud of her too.
“Yeah, keep doing those stretches and learning yoga. We're going to put it in the day I get out of dis bitch. I'm gonna be all up in that. I'll be able to tell if you've been giving my shit away,” Prince warned excitedly.
“You know this pussy cat is all yours.” Monica blushed.
“A'ight, I have to go. I love you, baby girl,” Prince declared.
“I love you more.”
After hanging up with Monica, Prince put in a call to his cougar. She was stacked like a brick house and straight hood. Vanilla Cream was her stage name and Prince considered her his chick on the side. She had no expectations of him and they had great sex. Prince described her skills at performing oral sex as phenomenal. Vanilla Cream was a grown-ass woman who hustled hard for hers. Prince had nothing but respect for her drive.
Prince spoke with Vanilla Cream for five minutes before heading back to his cell.
“Aye, aye, nigga, aye,” Tyrell called out.
Prince turned to find Tyrell trying to catch up with him. They greeted each other with a handshake and one-arm hug.
“What it do, my man?”
“Some straight up shit,” Tyrell announced.
“What up?”
“I know he's your boy and all but don't turn your back on him. Dude dirty and your broke arm is proof,” Tyrell explained.
“For sho,” Prince replied, appreciating the heads-up.
Prince had suspected that Raequan was tripping on him for some reason. It was hard to accept the idea that his lifelong friend would suddenly have a vendetta with him. As far as Prince knew, things were cool between them. Prince thought that Raequan was upset about the time he had to put in but quickly pushed the idea aside. Raequan should have known he could trust Prince. Tyrell wasn't the first person to tell Prince about Raequan. Prince never put anything past anybody so he'd keep a watchful eye on his best friend. Things done in the dark always surfaced in the light. If Raequan was dirty, Prince would be able to find out. Raequan was sloppy. His arrogance always gave him away.
Chapter 17
That's How I Do
Shy and Cherise were primped and primed for a girls' night out. After dinner at Ruby Tuesday, the best friends stopped in for a drink at Frieda's Bar. Shy wore her hair flat-ironed and parted down the middle. Her off-the-shoulder lavender blouse showed off the tattoo of her children's names and offered a hint of sexiness to complement her look. The torn-at-the-thigh jeans hugged her curves perfectly but it was the royal purple peep-toe, four-inch stilettos that screamed diva.
The olive green sleek material of Cherise's above-the-knee dress turned heads when she walked. Her hair was pulled back into a perfect ponytail, showing off the contours of her neck. Cherise stepped high in black slingback heels and she carried a matching satchel.
It was a little before eleven when they walked through the door looking like hood stars. Only a handful of patrons surrounded the square-shaped bar situated in the middle of the establishment. The DJ played mellow sounds from the seventies. Shy and Cherise found two empty barstools and made themselves comfortable. They were able to see both the front and back entrances from their seats.
“Hi, babies, what are you drinking?” the barmaid asked after looking the women up and down.
“Gin and cranberry juice,” Cherise replied.
“Long Island Iced Tea, all top-shelf dark liquor please,” Shy said, adding her drink choice. She planned on having fun after being a couch potato queen for so long. Cherise had suggested they go to a bar known to serve their patrons stiff drinks of generous proportions, but Shy opted for a place where she could drink all night and keep hold of her whereabouts.
The best friends laughed, joked, and chatted. They were both enjoying their rare evening out, mostly in part to the funk and old school slow jams blasting through the speakers. The unmistakable sound of Roger Troutman's classic “More Bounce to the Ounce” filled the bar. The song never failed to fill the dance floor; that night was no different. Anyone who was lucky enough to secure a barstool remained seated. They swayed back and forth to the beat for fear of losing their seats. The large crowd in the bar forced some to lean against the wall. Sore feet did not keep them from moving their bodies to the music.
Shy was deep into the funk and failed to hear the husky voice speaking to her.
“Excuse me, Shayla,” the stranger extended his hand and smiled.
“Oh hey, how are you?” Shy spoke.
“This might sound like a weak line but I'm doing fine but not as fine as you are.” He took in Shy's undeniable beauty and the scent of her hair.
Shy laughed at the stranger's awkwardness. He reminded her of Derwin from the hit show
The Game.
From what she could tell, he passed her height requirement by an inch. It was close but he made it. He was well groomed and sexy.
“Do we know each other?”
“We've never formally met but I remember you from high school. My name is Dwayne.”
“So, you went to South?”
“No, Chaney. We had English class together our freshman year,” Dwayne explained.
“I was only at Chaney the one year before transferring to South. I'm sorry but I don't remember you. What did you say your name was again?” Shy quizzed.
“Dwayne Willis.”
Cherise watched the meeting from the sideline. Dwayne looked all right but he wasn't her type. She gave Shy and Dwayne another glance before smacking her lips and standing to leave.
“Shy, I'm going to the restroom. Your friend can save my seat for me,” Cherise flirted.
Cherise walked away, shaking her hips, hoping Shy's man of interest was watching. She was certain the sway of her hips would garner some male attention. Her body moved with precision. There was no way she would be outdone.
If Shy thinks she's the only one who can get a man, the bitch is crazy,
Cherise thought. The bar was elbow to elbow and everyone was having a good time. Cherise scanned the crowd for something to get next to but came up empty.
Shy sat laughing with Dwayne. It had been a long time since she was able to relax and she was going to enjoy her night. Dwayne was easy on the eye but not as handsome as Melvin. He measured up to be two inches shorter and didn't possess those deep, dark eyes of her late husband. Despite the negatives, Shy decided to give him a chance. She caught herself comparing every man to Melvin. It was a habit she was trying to break. No matter how much time passed, Shy knew there was no substitute for the only love of her life.
“I see your girl is making her way back over here. I know she wants her seat back,” Dwayne recognized.
“Yeah, I enjoyed our conversation. It was nice meeting you,” Shy replied.
“Do you mind if I hit you up sometime? I know you have a cell.”
Shy hesitated before responding. Dwayne had just lost some points by the way he'd asked for her number. He sounded like Prince asking some hood rat for a casual date. There was too much going on in her life and Shy did not want another issue added to her to do list. She looked into Dwayne's eyes and saw sincerity. He had approached her respectfully and had made no sexual innuendoes during their conversation. Shy smiled and finally ran off her number.
“Okay, I'm going to be in touch soon,” Dwayne promised with a wink and a smile.
Again, Shy's level of interest dropped two points. The wink, smile combination put her off. She liked a little thug in her man. It was completely different from being a hood.
Shy turned around in her seat and swallowed the last of her drink. She felt like it was a gamble getting to know Dwayne so she would keep it casual. Her hope was that she wasn't betting on a horse posing as a stallion.
Chapter 18
Mommy Taught Me How to Play the Game
Cherise found Raequan in a better mood than she expected. She was taken aback by his upbeat attitude and positive demeanor. His previous stays behind bars kept Raequan angry and defiant. Cherise knew her son and that whatever was behind his mindset, it was surely against the system.
“Have you been writing to your dad? I don't want a lecture on my poor parenting skills just because he hasn't heard from you,” Cherise fussed.
“Yeah, I hit 'em up. Everything was cool,” Raequan asked sarcastically. “I don't even know why you still be dealing with dude.” Raequan turned up his nose. Since he was able to understand what was going on, Raequan wondered why his mother stayed loyal to his father. Raequan hated the way she allowed him to treat her. He was the one locked up, not her. As far as Raequan was concerned, B-Boy needed his mother, not the other way around.
“For now, but you know that door is forever revolving. I think that nigga keeps a list with ‘ways to fuck with Cherise' scribbled at the top.” Cherise laughed but was dead serious.
“Don't let him get away with dat shit, Ma. You need to let dat nigga go if he can't respect you, Ma.” Raequan's good mood blew out the other side of Cherise's head along with his advice.
All of his life, it seemed his parents discussed their dysfunctional relationship with him. The good, the bad, and everything in between. Cherise spoke in one ear and B-Boy in the other. Raequan had watched his mother do things no son should ever see. Sharing the intimacies of a broken-down union with a product of that environment was a mistake of catastrophic proportions. Cherise and B-Boy set their son up to fail from the day he was born. They were so wrapped up in destroying each other's lives that Raequan's needs were overlooked. As a result, Raequan evolved into a straight-up menace. His mental and emotional defects were instilled deep inside of him.
“I've tried to get away from that deviant so many times that I don't have the energy to try anymore,” Cherise said mindlessly. Raequan had heard it all before. He decided to change the subject.
“So anyway, are you good at the shop?” Raequan asked, uninterested in the answer. He was ready to end their visit before his mother totally ruined his day.
“No complaints. The books are good and business is holding strong. I do want to find a building to buy. I plan to rent out the place for parties, wedding receptions, and shit like that,” Cherise announced.
“Dat's what up. You do you and keep things moving,” Raequan said. He was actually proud of his mother for thinking ahead. He knew if she'd let go of the past, she could be happy.
“You were in a good mood when I first got here. What's up with that?” Cherise quizzed.
“I came up on a way to make my time slide by. All I gotta do is fuck wit' dis dude's head and make his time crawl like the snake he is,” Raequan explained.
“How'd you come by that?”
“A night supervisor got me up on it. He has a major issue with dude so he reached out to me.”
“How'd you get in good with the target?”
“We've been homies for life. It's data snitchin'-ass nigga, Prince,” Raequan snarled.
“What did Prince do to piss the supervisor off?” Cherise was skeptical.
“You already know that dude hates Prince and his fam, especially his dad,” Raequan answered with venom in his voice.
“What's the supervisor's name?”
“He's that dude that took Melvin out, Keith Roberts.”
“Roberts?” Cherise shouted.
“Yeah, he works the midnight shift and stays in his office so Prince not even up on him working here.”
“Raequan, get out of it,” Cherise demanded. “You don't need to be dealing with him. He's crazy and dangerous. That combination is like dynamite.”
“I'm already in, Ma. Prince's broke arm was no accident,” Raequan confessed.
“What did you get for your trouble?” Cherise asked with attitude.
“A pizza from Bellaria and I watched
Scarface
on the flat screen in his office,” Raequan replied.
“Are you serious?” Cherise was surprised by her son and his arrogant attitude.
“Look, the unhappier Prince is, the more I get in return and the happier I'll be,” Raequan reasoned.
“I understand making your time comfortable but this won't end well. Roberts has something bigger on his mind. Prince watched that man kill his father. What could Roberts possibly gain from messing with that boy? Trust me, sooner or later, that nigga's going to claim you owe him,” Cherise promised. She had a bad feeling about Raequan's mission.
“It ain't even that serious, Ma,” Raequan said dismissively.
“Rae, that man killed Melvin; why is he fuckin' with Prince? If anything it should be the other way around,” Cherise fumed.
“That ain't my problem. As long as Roberts got me, I'm in it to win it,” Raequan said with a shrug of the shoulders.
Cherise grew up on the streets. She knew if a man went up against another, he was ready for war. Melvin's death had affected everyone who knew him. He'd done dirt when called for but Melvin was always fair. No man deserved to be shot dead in front of his child. Cherise took total offense to Roberts's tactics. Her son had made a deal with the devil and Cherise had to get him out of it. If not, Cherise knew they were in for another tragedy.

Other books

Lies & Lullabies by Courtney Lane
Bound in Black by Juliette Cross
Changed (Second Sight) by Hunter, Hazel
Next of Kin by Joanna Trollope
Challis - 03 - Snapshot by Garry Disher
Hammered by Elizabeth Bear
Angel Kin by Jana Downs