From the Streets to the Sheets by Noire Read Free Book Online

me on a subject we’d agreed never to discuss.
    “I’m saying, yo. You got Whisky. So why you keep breakin’ me off?”
    It was my turn to bite my lip. 12 knew just like I did that Whisky wasn’t up for discussion. There was just some shit I didn’t talk about. My man was one of them.
    “Come on, Sweets. It’s me,” he coaxed. “We go way back—you know you can trust a niggah. You trust me to fuck you and not tell . . .”
    He had me.
    “A’ight, you got me on that one.” I sat up, straightened myself out. “But you gotta give me your word—”
    “Sweets, ya know my word is my bond. If it wasn’t, you’d a did a bid up north, not me. I ain’t know the first thang about launderin’ no damn money.”
    I looked at 12 and bitched up. Tears welled in my eyes as I thought about him doing a dozen for me. Yeah, I could trust him.
    “I gots love for Whisky. I do,” I assured 12 and myself at the same time. “He’s always buttered my bread, made sure I
felt
like I came first. But he does his own thang. He comes first in his world.”
    “So, you fuckin’ me is your way of gettin’ back at him?”
    I sat silent because I really didn’t know how to respond. On one hand it was true; banging 12 was just a needed fix after I punished those who crossed me. It was hard to get licked without gettin’ sticked. On the other side of it was loyalty. Whisky had put me down and taught me how to grind the game. And once upon a time, he’d fucked and sucked me ’til I couldn’t see straight. I stayed true to him until I found out that he’d been giving other hoes dick lashes
and
money
—my
paper I’d refused to share. I’d had to knock a couple of persistent ones off, but I’d calmed down. Promised not to body another bitch over my man. Until I caught him in the act.
    “I need to know if you love that niggah.”
    “Why, what up?” I asked, noticing the seriousness in 12’s eyes.
    He cleared his throat, steepled his massive hands. “Ya know Quita, right? My wifey?”
    I nodded even though it was a lie. I’d had no idea 12 had a girl, let alone a wifey.
    “Well, she died—caught one up the ass. I found out Whisky dropped her.”
    I flinched. 12 took it as a different kind of shock.
    “Yeah, they was fuckin’ around. Her sister told me after the fact,
and
she’d dropped her off at one of Whisky’s cribs he’s got tucked away somewhere.”
    Jumping up, I paced. Cum juice running all down my legs. “
Word?
Whisky was fuckin’ your girl? My Whisky?”
    12 cracked his knuckles. “Nah, not just my girl—my baby’s mama.” He got up and walked over to me, grabbed me by the shoulders. “Look, Sweets. A niggah got a lotta love for ya, but I gots to handle it. You know this. So what’s up?”
    Damn. He was asking me what I thought about him putting Whisky down for a dirt nap. All I could do was shake my head. Until he hit me with the rest.
    “Either he clapped her, or had some grimy mu’fucka do it for him. Keila—Quita’s sister—told me that Whisky was going to take Quita away, move her up outta the hood so they could play house. She said Quita wasn’t wit it, had changed her mind. You know Whisky doesn’t entertain rejection.”
    A new heat moved through me. Fire of violence and jealousy. I couldn’t believe that Whisky planned on bouncing on me for the next bitch. Not after all I’d done for him, the years I gave him. “Do what you gotta do,” I gave my permission, knowing that the trigger finger that blasted Quita’s back out was attached to my hand. But I rationalized it. Me and 12 had both been crossed. I’d done my part without his knowing. He’d finish it off. There were just certain things I didn’t talk about. I’d already gave him a pass by discussing Whisky. I didn’t see a need to give him two by telling on myself. Hell, I was a hustla, not a fool. No way I was going to be on the receiving end of my boy’s Desert Eagle.

    This Weekend . . .
    Whisky rested his head on my lap,