drawer in a makeshift baby bed. As the screams grow louder I contemplate closing the muthafucka.
My door rattles again. âGoddamn! What the hell is going on in there?â My older brother, Charlie a.k.a. Tombstone, rattles my shit. âWhat the fuck? You got a kid in there?â
âMind your own muthafuckinâ business.â
âWho in the fuck would trust you with a kid?â
âYour baby mommas!â
My door bursts open and Charlie strolls his big ass through my door. âHey!â
âHey nothing! Your ass ainât got nothing I want to see.â He marches over to the wailing baby. âWhat in the hell?â He leans over. âWhoâs this lil nigga?â
âNone of your business, Charlie. Get out of here.â I jump out of bed and shove him away. Iâm not in the mood to take any of his bullshit. âMy room is off-limits.â I push and shove, but he doesnât move.
âWhy the fuck do you have him in the drawer?â
âBecause I donât have anywhere else to put him.â
He frowns. âWhat the fuck is wrong with the bed?â
âGet the fuck out of my room,â I bark.
Charlie tosses up his hands. âFine. Donât get your panties twisted. Iâm leaving.â He wrinkles his nose. âYou might want to change that muthafuckaâs diaper, though. Lil nigga is foul as hell.â
âAnd whatâs your excuse? Youâre sour as fuck, too.â
âI was out puttinâ in work all night. Real work. Something your ass donât know shit about.â
If only you knew. I grab his huge muscled arm and drag him away from the screaming baby. Truth be known, its high-pitch wailing is working a number on my nerves, but I can deal with that shit.
âIs he sick?â Charlie asks.
âWhy? Are you a doctor?â
âIf I was Iâd fix your face,â he says chuckling.
The jab hurts. A year ago I was the dime piece of Ruby Cove. Sexy frame and a beautiful face, niggas lined up outside my door and blazed up my phone 24/7, but the only nigga that caught my eye was Profit. Since the day his ass arrived from Atlanta, Iâd been counting down until I branded his fine ass as mine. Shit. I believed that it was just a matter of time before his ass ascended the throne and I wanted to be the Flower on his arm.
Sure there were a lot of Flowers jockeying for the position, but I wasnât sweating that shit. I knew Profit would want a real dime instead of a knockoff. I dreamed about carrying his seeds and playing wifey with his fine assâthen fate dealt me a harsh hand, and TaâShara turned my future baby daddyâs head. I donât get it. She ainât all that cute and she ainât as smart as she thinks she is or she would have known better than to cross the color lines. Regardless, I still didnât think the shit would get serious. TaâShara was GD by blood. At most, I hoped Profit would splash off on the chicken head and then move on.
That shit didnât happen.
TaâShara had Profitâs nose so wide open that if he walked outside on a rainy night his ass would drown. I couldnât have that shit. Bitches in my own crew clowned and gave me grief because I had bragged about locking his ass downâso I stepped to TaâShara, told her to back down. She and her pip-squeak friend, Essence, buckedâso the next time there wasnât no fucking talking. I came hard at the bitch, figuring that shit would settle it, but I got the surprise of my life.TaâSharaâs blade game ainât no joke. I didnât expect that shit from a straight-A bougie bitch. Hell, I didnât even see her ass spit that razor out, but I sure as hell felt it when it split my cheeks wide open, fucking up my mug shot. Now Iâll never win Profitâs heart.
Lesson: any bitch can be a gangsta nowadays.
Charlie stops at the door and glances back again.
âAll right.
Learning to Kill: Stories