For the Strength of You (7 page)

“Yeah, just like that fuckin' bracelet you embarrassed the shit outta me with! Whatever, nigga. Whatever!”

“A'ight, I see you done got clean and lost your fuckin' mind. Remember I got you out the gutter. You ain't shit but a tramp-ass trash! You just a squirrel try'na get a nut. I made you.”

“Look at you, Orange Juice Jones wanna-be ma'fucker! You ain't made me. If anything, I made your no-gamin' ass. If the hustle was left up to you, you'd be in jail for a fuckin' dime piece. You ain't Federal weight yet, nigga. Ya better slow the fuck down, 'fo you get sprayed the fuck down!”

“Sprayed? Oh, now you gon' shoot me?” Teck couldn't help but laugh. He was laughing so hard that before he knew anything, Fe-Fe was laughing.

“Ain't shit funny.” She pouted, folding her arms across her breast.

Teck walked over and hugged her. “I'm sorry, Fe, for real. You gotta forgive ya man.”

Fe-Fe looked at Teck and couldn't help but to forgive him. She turned around and hugged him. He kissed her and she melted in his arms.

Constance was in the back seat of her Mercedes, pulling up her satin panties after giving it up to her baby's father, Wallo. They were parked in the bus parking lot behind a few school buses at Selma Middle School. When she was fully dressed, she slid over to him and kissed him deeply for close to five minutes.

“A few more months and we can blow this place,” he said, zipping up his jeans.

“I hope so. I'm sick of working at that prison,” she said, climbing up to the front seat. “Hey!” she giggled when he squeezed her butt.

He got out and stretched his body then opened her front door to get his helmet. Again, she leaned over to kiss him before he left.

She sat and waited until he got on his Ninja ZX-10R. “I love you,” she shouted over the roar of the motorcycle as he revved up the engine before doing a short burnout.

* * *

Teck came home at 10:38 p.m. to find Fe-Fe wide-awake on the couch, looking at TV. Before she could flip on him, he pulled out a handful of crumpled bills. “I been hustling all day.”

“Yeah, right.” Fe-Fe sucked her teeth. “Where?”

“In Durham. There's this van that one of my homeboys told me about, and that's where I was. Me and Wallo hopped this van and they took us to a spot to slang.”

“Nigga, who is you talkin' to?” Fe-Fe started laughing, “That shit you just said is crazier than a motherfucka. Ain't nobody but five-O promisin' niggas pipe dreams. Like I should believe that a goddamn van gon' take you to slang.”

“A'ight, Fe,” Teck said, realizing how ridiculous he was sounding. “You got that. I was just doing some things that I don't wanna involve you in . . . but come on, boo,” he said, holding her close and kissing her neck. “Anything I do is for me and you.”

“I'm pissed at you, boy!”

“Why?” he twisted his face. “'Cause I been out draggin' my ass for you? Other niggas stay out to two or three in the mornin' and some don't even come in at all. And it's what”—He glanced at his watch—”ten forty-five and you trippin'. I coulda stayed wit' some project chick in Durham, but I cut it short and brought my ass home to you!”

* * *

Anshon was on his knees, leaning forward, braced up on one arm as he used his other arm to hold both of Monica's legs on the right side of his shoulder as he fucked her on her living room floor in front of the TV. Each time he drove into her, it sent her hands to a different part of his body: his neck, shoulders, chest, waist, wrist, ass. Over and over he sought to immerse his entire body inside her.

She had already chanted out his name over a hundred times. It went both ways. He couldn't get enough of her as he switched positions for the fifth time. Her nipples were already sore from his mouth.

“Anshon!”

“Monica!”

They said each other's names as she reached back to spread her ass open for him. The sight of her ass spread with her cheeks apart for him nearly caused him to explode in the condom. He held back and slowly slid back into her pussy.

“Pussy . . . so . . . fuckin' . . . good!” he said through clenched teeth as he watched her butt quiver like Jell-o. The rhythm had her pussy talking as she cried out his name in a feverish lust. Suddenly, they both felt the condom pop.

“Ohhh, baby,” he moaned at the sweet feeling of being inside of her raw.

She slowly slid off his dick then pulled the busted condom off. Her lips quivered as he rubbed his throbbing dick against her swollen labia. She fell to her elbows, arching her pussy higher in the air. Anshon flipped her over and placed his mouth back on her breasts as she reached down to mas-sage his dick. She could feel the blood throbbing through his veins.

“Mmmmm, baby,” she cried as she crossed her legs over his back and pulled him inside her.

Anshon lost all control as he started pumping her. Monica was talking and mumbling incoherently as Anshon drove deeper into her, causing their sweaty naked bodies to smack together.

She moved his face toward hers for a passionate kiss. Each thrust made him pick up his speed. He came up on his arms, driving deeper, stronger, and harder into her sweet pussy until he exploded deep inside her.

Anshon lost count of the number of times he nutted inside her once the condom broke.

He couldn't believe that he had slipped up and ate pussy till she glazed his face . . . not once, but twice. The only problem was when he was eating her pussy, he kept imaging that it was Fe-Fe's clit he was sucking on. That made him grind his tongue faster, and not until he brought Monica to a triple orgasm did he realize that he'd been totally out of his mind.

After sex, Monica and Anshon rolled over and went to sleep. They didn't wake up until midnight, when Anshon's phone started ringing. He reached over from the bed, hitting the button for the speakerphone.

“Dawg, you up?” It was Teck.

“Um, wassup?” Anshon said with his eyes closed.

“You high or something?”

“Pimp, please. Full night,” Anshon muttered, rubbing his neck.

“Yo, I'm about to dip to Goldsboro with Fe-Fe. I'ma take 'er to the movies. She told me you wanted me to call.”

“I was tryin' to see what was up with you. Where you bounce to?”

“I was just chillin'. Well, dawg, I'm out. Sound like you in the bed. I'll holla.”

As Anshon lay back down, the phone rang again. This time he snatched it off the receiver.

“Speak to a pimp, nigga,” Anshon said, flipping his phone open.

“Pimp? Nigga?” Tammy frowned. “Oh, hell no!”

“Big sis!” Anshon sat up in the bed. “Wassup?”

“I met a man, boy.”

“For real?” Anshon smiled. “What's his name and address in case I have to bust his ass?”

“Be quiet.” She giggled. “His name is Victor. He's a good guy. But look”—Tammy's tone changed from silly to serious—“I hear it's a lotta niggas getting robbed and shit in Selma, Raleigh, and Durham. Even Goldsboro. It's time to give it a rest, Anshon. The South ain't safe no more.”

“What is you?” Anshon smirked. “Young Buck? The South ain't safe no more, so what? Get a gun? Well, I got three or four!”

If Tammy could have come through the phone and kick Anshon's ass, she would've. “When are you going to learn that this hustlin' shit is a dead end, huh? You save any money, Anshon? You have any cash in the bank? Or is Monica sportin' every fuckin' name brand in the world? Is the double wide that goddamn laid? Get out the game. Please, it ain't worth it. Look at me. I'm still fighting. I can't even take care of my kids without help.”

“Oh, here you go with that bullshit. Tammy, ain't nothin' wrong with you. You met a man, didn't you?”

“Nigga, I met some dick.”

“Tammy—”

“No, be quiet, Anshon, and listen. I met a man, but what does that have to do with you being safe? Roll out, Anshon. Ma'fuckers is showin' up dead all over the place. Niggas is gettin' robbed.”

“Being robbed don't equal being dead,” Anshon snapped.

“Anshon, don't be stupid. All you gotta do is buck and you done.”

“Anyway,” Anshon said, changing the subject, “how's my niece and nephew?”

Tammy wanted to come through the phone and strangle Anshon. She took a deep breath. “They're fine. Starting to ask questions about their sorry-ass daddy. When I come back to Selma, I may just have to talk to him about seeing his kids.”

“Tammy . . .” Anshon swallowed hard.

“What?”

“Tom-Tom . . . is dead.”

She dropped the phone, and Anshon could hear her screaming in the background.

“This is what I'm talking about! This is it! What! What! How?” she said, picking the phone back up. “Please don't tell me that you . . . did it!”

“What the hell? Please, Tammy. I'm not answering that.”

“I gotta come home.” Tammy cried. “I need to see what I can find in my house; maybe some pictures or something for my kids. Maybe I can get by to see his mother. I know she's torn up.”

“Tammy.” Anshon sighed. “There was a fire.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“Your house was burned down. Everybody thinks that Tom-Tom did it.”

“I'm on my way,” Tammy cried, hanging up the phone.

Anshon hung up with Tammy, took a quick shower, slipped on his jeans, hoodie, and skull cap. He grabbed his heat and car keys.

“Monica.” He nudged her a little.

She cracked her eyes open. “Hmm.”

“I'll be back later. It's some money on the dresser if you wanna go out. Otherwise, chill here until I come back. A'ight?”

“A'ight, Anshon.”

For some reason, Anshon's heart was beating fast as he drove over to Teck and Fe-Fe's. He wondered why Wallo was always missing in action whenever some shit went down, and his mind started to wonder if Wallo was throwing some salt in the game.

And what about Tom-Tom,
Anshon thought.
What was that nigga talking about?

Instead of heading down Lizzie Street, Anshon made a right into Redwood Village apartments to pay Constance a visit. When he pulled up, he saw Wallo's motorcycle parked in her parking spot.

“A'ight.” Anshon swallowed hard. “It's all good, 'cause when ya get down to it, pussy is all the same.”

He knocked on Constance's door, light at first, until he thought he heard what sounded like fucking sounds coming through the crack of the door. After that, Anshon started kicking the door.

* * *

Wallo jumped. He was getting his dick sucked, and whoever the visitor was, they'd picked a fucked-up time to come.

“What the fuck?” Wallo said, looking toward the door.

Anshon kicked it again.

Constance unwrapped her lips and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Wallo zipped his pants up, but he couldn't erase the attitude off his face.

“What?” Constance snapped at Anshon when she opened the door. “Where's your little seventeen-year-old college groupie?”

“Why you all in my business? What, you wanna suck two dicks? Go find ya kid's father and bust a nut in that nigga's mouth, since you dying to be a ho.”

Wallo snatched the door completely open and looked at Anshon. “Yo, Shon.” He looked serious. “Don't try and play me crazy. Don't be disrespecting her.”

“Oh, my fault,” Anshon said, seething. “I ain't know this was your ho now. I thought we was better than that.”

“Better than what?” Wallo snapped.

“Than you fuckin' my ex-chicks.”

“Yo!” Wallo laughed. “This my daughter's moms. You the one stepped outta line, son. I ain't call you on it 'cause we weren't together. Just like I used to bang Monica, but you ain't need to know that. Not every nigga walking around should be showing his hand. Na'mean?”

“Monica?” Anshon placed his hand on the butt of his gun.

“Chill,” Constance pleaded. She knew better than Anshon how much Wallo really hated him. “Just go, Anshon.”

“Fuck leavin'.” Wallo stepped closer to Anshon. “What you come over here for?”

“Oh, nigga, you really don't want it with me, so you better back the fuck up.”

“Whatever,” Wallo said, blowing out air.

“Fuck you, nigga,” Anshon said, looking Wallo up and down. “I made your crazy-lookin' ass, and you can have the pussy for all the fuck I care. Fuck you. I'ma leave, but don't ever in your life try and punk me, nigga!”

Anshon walked backward to his car so he could leave. He didn't wanna turn his back on Wallo.

When he got in the car, he couldn't believe what had just happened. He called Monica on the phone. “You used to fuck Wallo?”

She was still half asleep. “Wha-what-what? Anshon, please.”

“Ain't no
Anshon, please
. Did you fuck Wallo?”

Monica took a deep breath. “We ain't really fuck, Anshon.”

“What you mean you ain't really fuck? Either you did or you didn't!”

“Yes, but I was fifteen. That shit don't count.”

Anshon hung up on her and drove to Fe-Fe's.

“Yo, Teck,” Anshon yelled, rattling Fe-Fe's front door once more.

Dragging herself to the door, Fe-Fe looked at Anshon like he was crazy. “Nigga, it's three a.m. What is your problem?”

“Oh, my fault, shawtie,” Anshon said, looking away. Fe-Fe's nipples were hard, and he didn't wanna take his thoughts there. “I needed to holla at my man real quick. It's a lot of niggas gettin' held up and shit around here. Wallo is buggin', and it's just a lot of shit on my mind right now.”

Fe-Fe could see the worry in Anshon's face. She let him in and locked the door behind him. “What's wrong?”

Anshon looked at Fe-Fe, and he couldn't help but see how beautiful she was. Her long, black hair was draped over her shoulders.

“You got the kinda hair my sister has.” He laughed. “My mother used to put water and lotion in it.”

“That's some serious old-school shit, Anshon.” Fe-Fe laughed.

“I know.” He stood in front of her and ran his fingers through her wavy hair. Immediately her pussy tingled. She backed away and moved slightly so his hand would fall.

“I'm buggin',” he said, moving closer to her.

“I know you are,” she said, allowing him to back her against the wall.

“When is Teck coming home?”

“You mean here?” she said, breathing heavy, wanting desperately for him to kiss her.