King of The Hood 2 Page 11

  “Augusta,” was all I said.

  She grumbled something, before turning giving Neesha a hug. She whispered something that caused Neesha to laugh. They broke apart.

  “Bye, Stone, behave, be careful, be safe, be mindful. Hell, you just may want to be quiet until you make it home,” she joked.

  “Ah ha,” I coughed out, sarcastically.

  Both’em shook their heads at me, like I’m the one with the issues. It’s they asses that got me changing and shit. I ain’t never played and joked with no females. The fuck, man. I gotta talk to my Gramps. This that bullshit he ain’t warned my ass bout.

  “I gotta get my bag,” she let me know.

  “Cool,” was all I said, while walking outside.

  Walking passed her, I smacked her ass. That juicy muthafucka bounced under my hand. I’mma have fun seeing that big bitch bounce and shake, while hittin’ it from the back and side.

  “Keep yo hands to yo ’self. You don’t have claims on this ass,” she sassed, throwing her whole ass.

  One bounce to the left, two to the right. The pattern repeated itself, over, and over.

  “You good, nigga? I’ll catch up wit yo ass later,” I let Banks know, walking up on him.

  “Aiight, holler if yo ass need me,” he let me know, with a smirk.

  “Aiight, nephew,” I pounded Lil’ D up.

  “Aiight, Unk. I’mma let you play wit my shawty. Don’t make her cry,” he let me know, staring up at me.

  “You got that,” was all I said, causing him to nod.

  “Be good, Seaqual,” I called out, as he walked up.

  “No doubt, you too, Stone,” he let me know, slapping hands with me.

  He’s a pretty smooth lil dude. Fa’ somebody who only got three fingers on his left hand, no one would ever know it with the way he balls and works on computers. Watching them walk off looking like a fake ass family.

  Fuck that bullshit Banks was speaking earlier. His ass in deep shit with Neesha. Fucker scared to get hurt. His ass ain’t never had Lil’ D round another female outside of his mama.

  “Stone?”

  “Wha’sup?” I answered, turning towards Stallion.

  “Come on tell my mama and Wilbur bye. You need to apologize to my stepbrother too. He’s awoke,” she let me know.

  Smackin’ my teeth caused her to eye me. I just nodded. I may not know a lot, but I know when a woman bout to go in on my ass. Plus, I’m already borderline assed out. Following behind her as we made it to her mama, Wilbur, and ole’ boy.

  “Okay, Mama, Wilbur, it’s been real. I enjoyed myself, as always, despite some other shit. I’ll be taking Mr. Stone home. He lives in Augusta too, and he doesn’t drive,” she spoke, in way of greeting.

  “Aiight, baby girl. Be safe,” Wilbur spoke, grabbing her for a hug.

  I watched their interaction, if I hadn’t learned what I did about Stallion’s daddy, I would’ve sworn ole’ boy was her real sperm donor.

  “Okay, baby, be safe, see you another time, Stone. We may have to come down for a visit,” Mama Godwin stated, pulling Stallion from ole’ boy, hugging her.

  Releasing her, she kept her arms open, beckoning me in them. I walked into her embrace. Being that she’s shorter than me, I had to bend slightly. Although it’s not by a whole lot.

  “Take care of her. Listen to her. Open your heart to receive her. If you can’t give your all, don’t give her shit, let her go,” she whispered, in my ear.

  Nodding in response is the only way I can keep in what I really want to say. I ain’t giving up Stallion, fuck that.

  She released me. Stepping back, I eyed Wilbur and his sons. Eyeing the one I knocked the shit out of. Shit, I did fuck his ass up.

  “Aye, man, I won’t apologize, I’mma man bout mind. I ain’t know who the fuck yo ass was. Had I known, I wouldn’t have hit you… Maybe. We can get up, or something,” I stated.

  They just eyed me without breaking eye contact.

  “Much respect. I didn’t expect an apology. Had you not done anything, I would’ve questioned yo ass like I did that other weak nigga. I’ll take you up on that offer once my sis says she’s claiming yo ass,” he let me know, looking me in the eye.

  Slapping hands wit’em, he earned my respect.

  “Aiight, Wilbur. See you real soon. I got an invite to the wedding, right?” I joked a lil.

  “If Preshus says you her plus one,” was all he said.

  Nodding in understanding, I looked at Stallion. She smiled a little, before turning on her heels, stepping off. Walking up to her, I placed my hand on the small of her back. In the midst of our departure, I heard,

  “Y’all know that’s gonna be y’all son-in-law, fo’ no other reason than to argue wit Preshus.”

  I don’t know which son said it. I’m inclined to believe him.

  “Damn, this wha’ cha ass pushing?” I whistled out, upon reaching her ride.

  Stallion rollin’ in a pearl Phantom, limited edition. It’s the only two door one, with the suicide doors. The inside is beyond spacious.

  “Yeah, I felt like riding in style, sunroof open, music playing, just a smooth ride,” she answered.

  Raising my eyebrow, she just looked at me. Opening her door, she smiled beautifully.

  “I know some shit. Never underestimate me,” I let her know.

  “Never that,” was all she said, while placing her lovely ass in the plush seat.

  Eyeing her thick thighs as her dress raised up. Biting my lips at that smooth slither of skin. Fuck, she got me. I’m ready to do all kinds of shit to that thigh.

  “Stone, I’m tired,” she called out, whining a lil’, gaining my attention.

  Without saying anything, I removed my hand from the door, then walked round to the passenger seat. Climbing in, I melted into the seat. The doors closed after she pressed the button. Starting it, the baby purred to life.

  I’m automatically buckled in, and so is she. I usually don’t ride with a seat belt on but being that I don’t’ know how Stallion drives, I’mma lean on the safe side. Let’s see what the fuck this ride gonna prove.

  Preshus

  ‘Driving down Interstate 20 to Augusta’

  ‘Preshus, Preshus, who the fuck was that muthafucka? Niggah tried to dislocate my head from my neck. When you get a man?” Andre slurred, while I helped him to the kitchen island.

  “Andre, I’m so damn sorry. As many times we’ve done that damn dance, this shit has never happened. I didn’t know his crazy ass would do this shit. We ain’t even together,” I apologized, while grabbing him an ice pack.

  “Y’all ain’t together? Fa’ real? You fuck’em?” He questioned, while holding the ice pack to his eye.

  “No, we ain’t fuck, just kissed, had some words, I pulled my gun on his ass, that’s it,” I answered, totally confused.

  “Yah ass serious?” He questioned, staring at me with his good eye.

  Sighing, I told him about each encounter between Stone and me. After my story, I dropped my head to the counter.

  “So, why not just tell him what you actually do? You’re playing a damn game yo damn self,” he let me know.

  Lifting my head, I looked at him.

  “I ain’t playing shit. We haven’t even had a damn conversation. His ass so stuck on what he thinks, he ain’t trying to find out the truth. You know I don’t even volunteer that information. Plus, the way he carried on, well, is carrying on, with just the thought of me dancing at ‘Creamy Pies’, just image how the hell he’ll act learning that I actually own it,” I expressed, truthfully.

  He nodded a little, then stopped, grabbing his head.

  “I didn’t think about it like that. So, wha’chu gonna do?” He questioned.

  “I’m staying away from his ass until I get a truthful apology from his ass. I can’t lie, he does some things to me. In his presence, my mouth can’t stay closed, and neither can my legs,” I mumbled, causing him to chuckle.

  “Shut up,” I spat, pushing his head.


  “Ooaawww, mean, heffa. I’m gonna go lay down. Come get my ass before you leave,” he whined.

  Giggling as I watch him stumble out the room holding the ice pack to his eye. As I stood to the sink replaying the last twenty minutes through my head. I didn’t mean fa’ my dancing to result in my stepbrother damn near being killed.

  I just wanted to entice Stone, while showing his close-minded, stubborn ass, I do what the fuck I want, and I’m damn good at it. Going back and forth over the pros and cons of being out of Stone’s presence, his presence walked into the kitchen. I felt him, the beating of my heart, the thumping of my clit, along with my hardened nipples, were all the signs that alerted me to him being close.

  “What’s on yo mind, Stallion? I know yo ass ain’t never been this quiet. You just look like yo ass got a lot to say.”

  Stone’s gritty voice broke through my thoughts. Blanching slightly, I side eyed his ass. Realizing he’s looking at me, I blew out a breath.

  “First, you don’t know jack shit bout me. Second, my thoughts honed in on the fact I’m yo damn chauffer, when I just said I wouldn’t be round yo ass without an apology,” I answered, truthfully.

  “The fuck yo ass mean by that shit? How yo ass not gonna be round yo man?”

  Smacking my teeth at his outburst.

  “Ryco, you keep calling yo’ self my man. Unless yo ass can apologize to me while holding a decent conversation wit me, I ain’t gonna be shit to yo ass but a damn thought of what could have been,” I let his ass know.

  Moving slowly, he placed his warm, heavy hand, on my exposed thigh. A shutter so strong went through me, I swerved the car a little.

  “Damn, Stallion, I got that kind of effect on yo lovely ass? I likes that shit,” he teased, causing me to roll my eyes.

  Fantasia’s ‘When I Met You,’ was playing on my custom design Sirius station. I started humming. I loves myself some damn Fantasia. Not only is her voice like none other, she’s genuinely a sweet person.

  “Can you sing?” He asked.

  “Can you talk?” I countered, causing his short tempered ass to pitch me.

  “Ouch, bastard. You better hope I don’t fucking bruise,” I snapped, slapping his hand off me.

  “Quit acting up. I done told yo ass bout yo mouth,” he fussed.

  “I done told yo ass bout yo mouth,” I mimicked.

  “Like, who the fuck is you? Not my damn daddy, that’s fa’ fucking sure. Why yo ass don’t drive? How far in Augusta do you stay? Why the hell do you stay in Augusta?” I fired off.

  “Damn, yo ass nosy,” he blurted out.

  Ignoring his ass, I focused back on the highway, along with my tunes that were playing. I’m not playing with his ass. Either he talks, or he doesn’t. Fuck it.

  He sighed all dramatically.

  “I live in Augusta cuz I don’t shit where I eat. Plus, my Gramps stays there too. He’s all I got left, so yeah, I’m close to him. I don’t drive, cuz shit, I don’t drive. I can drive, I just fucking don’t,” he started.

  “Hol’ the hell up. That ain’t no damn answer. ‘I don’t drive, cuz I don’t drive.’ Did something happen in yo ass that got yo ass fearing a damn steering wheel?” I questioned, interrupting him.

  “That is a damn answer, Stallion. Ain’t shit happen to my ass. I got my license like every fucking body else. Gramps always had a driver. The shit just transferred. I stay right before Grovetown,” he spoke.

  “Grovetown? Aww, hell naww. Yah ass ain’t going there tonight. I’m too tired fa’ that drive. Shit, I’ll take ya ass home in the morning. I got spare bedrooms, you can sleep in one of those,” I rushed out, interrupting anything he was about to say.

  Chuckling resonated from him. I don’t know what the hell is so damn funny, cause I’m dead ass serious.

  “I can spend the night, but a damn spare bedroom, that’s a no fuckin’ go. Why the hell do yo ass live in Augusta? Ain’t you from South Carolina?” He inquired.

  “I like Augusta, it’s close to one of my jobs. Yes, I’m from South Carolina. Lived there my whole life, until after college,” I answered, truthfully.

  That little Q&A session spurred on a much easier conversation. He’s very intellectual and enjoys helping others anyway that he can. He flipped to a subject I didn’t think he would, without any prompting from me. Taking me completely by surprise.

  “I took over LSC projects, not to be some big ass kingpin, but to help the fucking people. The government is so ass backwards when it comes down to helping those that are on the system. Every person who uses the system doesn’t plan to be on it their entire life. They need help, and ain’t shit wrong wit that. But to the ones who abuse that shit, it is.

  I’ve heard the speech, ‘Killing yo own people by dealing to them.’ The one’s that preach that bullshit are the blame. No person decides to become an addict. Until they are giving pills, narcotics, for some kind of pain, that’s prescribed to them by men and women in white coats. Some don’t even care about the people they are prescribing to. Long as they get that kick back, they good.

  Then, when the FDA, medical board, and pharmaceutical board, realizes that there’s too many narcotics being prescribed. That’s when the realization that those patients are addicted, we got to cut them off. They don’t even give them the help they need to get clean. I ain’t making no damn excuse fa’ what the fuck I do. I do it. I got rules to my shit. I help the community. If there’s a mother who’s hooked under my shit, she takes her ass to rehab, my rehab. There’s many businesses Triple Crown is a part of-”

  “You are Triple Crown? Oh, my damn. You do, do awesome work,” I blurted out, interrupting him.

  “Damn, glad to know I got a fan. Yeah, that’s Banks, Racks, and myself. We do some shit. Aye, since we on this communicating shit, I got something to tell yo ass. Don’t take the shit the wrong way. The way I’m set up, I be needing to know shit,” he explained.

  Running his words through my head. I know he didn’t.

  “Yo ass ran a background check on me,” I snapped.

  “Yep,” was all he said.

  “The fuck for? Yo ass could’ve just came to me and ask. You one of them invasion of privacy muthafuckas. What the hell did yo ass find out?” I snapped, pissed.

  It’s a damn good thing I work with the best hacker ever born. Anything connected to my businesses are not on my background. I knew people who wanted a piece of my shit, that would be the first thing they would do. Pay somebody for a damn background check. So, far it has kept me anonymous.

  “I’m responsible for the death of the crackhead that kilt yo father,” he answered, in a controlled voice, while staring out the windshield.

  I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of my ass. My eyes moistened, as I bit my lip to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. I’ve never liked crying in front of people I don’t really know. Family is the only exception, well, some family.

  “Wha-” I started.

  “Back then, I had to be about eighteen. I’m guessing you was bout fifteen. I had just graduated high school and gone home foe’ a celebration my moms had put together for me. I partied, laughed, hugged my moms, received love from her. Afterwards, I returned to the states, just to find out two weeks later, the island had been leveled by a typhoon, killing everybody. I lost my entire family. Except for my Gramps.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I whispered, through my tears.

  “Thank you, Moms would’ve loved you. Well, all we could do was have a memorial for them. Devastated isn’t even a strong enough word to describe what I felt. Prayer, and my Gramps, helped a lot. My Gramps had been grooming me to take over his shit. I mean, I was already running the shit, he was just letting my ass make mo’ decisions. Because of me, Gramps could live a hundred years ten times, and never go broke.

  Although my soul turned black, as my heart turned cold, I still wanted to do some shit to help the fucking community. I started cleaning shit up. One of my young runners cam
e to me early in the morning. Letting me know he’d witnessed the murder of an innocent man at the convenience store. He was able to give me a play by play of everything that happened. I was fucked up, cuz I had put out a call fa’ that same muthafucka.

  Crackheads can hide better than roaches. He caused the death of an elderly woman. So, I put the word out to all my houses, with a special mixture, just fa’ his ass. Many knew who he was. So, one night, on his late night scroll, he copped, shot up, and died. I felt relieved. That nuisance had been handled. I didn’t know it was yo pops, until I ran a check on yo ass. The news article popped up. I instantly knew the entire story. After realizing that, I was hoping I brought you and yo moms some closure,” he explained, his words held no emotions.

  “Thank you, you did, more than you will ever know,” I whispered.

  My whispered words were met by silence. We drove the rest of the trip in silence. Both of us lost in our own thoughts. He did give me more than closure. He gave me a sense of security.

  My moms and I knew it was a crackhead who killed him. The fact that he stole my father’s wallet, meant he had our address. We kept thinking if his ass had no regards for my father’s life, then what would he have for ours. Now, I know my father is resting peacefully, knowing his murderer is burning in hell.

  “Damn,” he whistled out.

  Blinking, I focused on why he was damning, I’m before my house.

  “I’m pretty sure yo house makes mine look like a matchbox,” I stated, brushing off his words.

  “Oh, without a doubt, it does, but this bitch here is the fuckin’ truth. Glad to know yo ass got priorities and shit,” he stated.

  Smacking my teeth.

  “Was that a fuckin’ insult and compliment rolled into one? Yah ass needs to work on yah fucking delivery,” I snapped, while pushing the button for my garage.

  Chuckling came from his ass. Pulling forward, I caught his eyes as they widened. The Aston Marin Rapide S, Porshe Panamera Turbo Executive, was fucking with his mental.

  “Do yo ass got a fuckin’ hook up or some shit?” He blurted out, as I cut my car off.