Chapter 1
It was a Friday, and the club was jumping. There were so many hustlers in the spot, I didn’t know which one I was walking out with that night. Judging by the way they were gawking at a female, it wouldn’t be long before I made up my mind.
I strutted through the crowd wearing a purple satin shirt, gold skinny jeans, and a pair of Jimmy Choo pumps. My hair was in a long, jet-black flat wrap with a Chinese bang. “Damn right, Blacque Barbee coming through!” My makeup was on fleek, and so was my body. I was 5’6”, weighing a buck sixty, thick in all right places, and I was bowlegged. I knew I was the shit, and so did the hating-ass hos who were posted up, mean-mugging. They were the least of my worries because each and every last one of them knew how my click and I got down. No bitch in her right mind would get out of pocket at any given moment.
When I approached the bar, there was an empty stool, so I took a seat. The bartender looked my way and walked over quickly to take my order. She was a plain-looking chick who could use a makeover, even though she had a cute face. She smiled.
“What can I get you?”
“Let me get a Long Island.”
She fixed my drink in sixty seconds flat and handed it to me. “That will be twelve dollars.”
Just as I was about to give her a twenty-dollar bill, a voice behind me said, “I got this, Stacey.”
I turned around to see who it was, and to my surprise it was a familiar face. I didn’t know his name or anything like that, but I saw him around my way a few times. From the look on my face, he knew I was about to say something, so he spoke first.
“The drink is on me.”
I gave him a phony smile. “Thanks.”
He handed her the money, and based on their conversation, I could tell they definitely knew each other. I was about to walk away, but he stopped me. “Hey, ma, what’s your name?”
I was really not in the mood for this lame-ass nigga who thought he was about to get some play because he bought me a twelve-dollar drink.
“Trina,” I lied. It was the first club name I could come up with.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
I had to get rid of him quickly, fast and in a hurry. “Nah, my dude is looking over here. I have to go.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I took off in the other direction. Chyna, Mercedes, and Nehiya were standing in the cut, waiting on me to return so we could get to the V.I.P. section. We walked upstairs, found a table, and posted up. The D.J. was playing some new, hot rapper.
Just as I was about to get comfortable, I spotted an entourage of niggas off in the corner, and from what I could see they were jocking hard. Of course I played it cool and turned my head as if I had no interest whatsoever. Not even a minute later one of them was out of his seat and heading our way.
“Excuse me, Miss Lady, how you doing?” His speech was slurred.
“I’m okay.”
He was an okay sight to look at, with the exception he was completely wasted.
“How about you and your girls come over here with me and my squad and I’ll buy y’all a bottle?” He paused. “What y’all drinking on?”
I had no intention on drinking, but I did tell him to get a bottle of Patron. When the waitress returned, she told him the bottle was one-sixty. He pulled out a bankroll of nothing but hundred-dollar bills. From that point I knew he was paid, and he wasn’t only flossing with that big-ass Cuban link draped around his neck with a diamond-studded cross and a matching bracelet.
All night long I showed him so much attention by dancing on him, getting his dick hard and telling him anything he wanted to hear.
He whispered in my ear, “Lets get a room.”
“I can meet you there instead of riding with you and your crew.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m riding solo.”
I could tell by the way he responded that he was a fast-talker and was used to talking bitches out of their panties, but little did he know I was on a whole different level from the rest of the bitches he was used to fucking.
I smiled mischievously. “Is that right?”
“Yeah,” he replied.
“Okay, let me tell my girls and I’ll be right back.”
After I put my girls up on game, we broke out like bandits. When we made it downstairs, a voice called out. “Hey, Khalil, are you leaving, man?” I kept walking so I wouldn’t be seen.
“A’ight, my nigga, I’ll holla at you tomorrow.”
Khalil and I walked outside and stopped by the valet booth. He handed the valet guy the ticket while we waited on his car. A few minutes later an all-white Porsche truck with 24-inch rims pulled up and stopped in front of us.
“I see you got some cash, Mr. Khalil,” I grinned.
“Come on,” he said as he escorted me to the truck. I climbed inside and sat back so I could relax. Club Tornado still had a line of people waiting to get in when we pulled off.
Approximately twenty minutes later we were pulling up to Comfort Inn & Suites. I sat in the truck and waited patiently.
Once we were upstairs, I sat and made small talk while I watched him down two full cups of Hennessey. This dude was really fucked up and taking too long to pass out. My cell phone buzzed; it was Chyna. I texted her back and gave her the room number. When Khalil went into the bathroom, I put the key outside the door and sat down on the bed. When the bathroom door finally opened, he came out wearing a t-shirt and a pair of boxers.
He was ready to fuck.
“Come lay on the bed,” I instructed. He did exactly what he was told. I straddled him while kissing him on his neck and chest. He was anxious to get started, but I needed him to relax. I stuck my hand in his boxers and jacked him off slowly. He must have thought he was about to get some head by the way he was pushing my head down.
The door crept open slowly and Chyna slid in like a thief in the night with Mercedes on her heels. Khalil was so lost in the moment he didn’t know what hit him, but I did. It was the butt of Chyna’s all-black gun. One hit was all it took, thanks to the Visine I dropped in his cup. I jumped up quickly, making a mad dash for his pants while they stripped him of his jewels.
***
Back at the house we all sat on the bed and counted out the money we took. “I can’t believe this dumbass nigga was in the club with eight stacks in his pocket.”
Nehiya looked at me. “Yeah, Barbee, you picked a good one.”
I gave her a devilish grin. “Well, you know how I do. And to top it all off, the fuck-nigga wasn’t even strapped.”
Mercedes laughed. “Damn, I love a lame-ass nigga.”
After the money was counted, I walked into our spare room and removed the huge painting that hung on the wall. I punched in the security code and pulled the lever to open the safe. We had stashed half of a million dollars in less than six months. I guess we could say business was sweet.
Every female had a hustle, whether it was boosting, working a nine-to-five or selling pussy, but not I. Robbing these dope boys was my hustle. It was simple and quick, no education needed. When it came down to it, pussy made a nigga weak, and they fell short every time. I learned this early in the game by an old-school cat named Fox. He used to have me setting up dudes in my younger days. We would take trips out of town twice a month and hit up big-time drug dealers and the local loan sharks.
Fox was a dirty old bastard, and he got just what he deserved, especially after using me for two years. About two summers ago he was found dead in a sleazy roach motel. His throat was slit and he was face down, butt-ass naked, with a dick in his ass. Yes indeed, he had been officially fucked, and that served him right. I could’ve been a rich bitch right about now, sitting on a mountain if I knew what I knew now.
“Barbee,” Chyna yelled, bringing me back from memory lane.
“What?” I yelled back.
“Come get the phone.”
“I’m coming.” I closed the safe and put everything back in its place before walking into Chyna’s room. “Did you answer it?” I was hoping she didn’t.
“No, I only made it stop ringing.”
She handed me the phone, but I sat it back down after I looked at the screen.
“Who was that?” Nehiya asked.
“Jeff.”
“Oh you’re not talking to him anymore?” Nehiya folded her arms across her chest.
“I told his ass to stop calling me this late. Shit, it’s three in the morning. I don’t know what his problem is, but if I answer it, his ass is getting cursed the fuck out, simple as that.”
“Well don’t answer him.” Mercedes stated. “’Cause you know his feelings are easily hurt.”
“Fuck his feelings!” I snapped. Not on her, but at the situation. “He already knows what it is. He better man up and get some balls.”
“How can he get some when you always cutting them off and handing them back to him?” Mercedes replied.
“You know I don’t care anything about that, and you shouldn’t, either.”
Mercedes sucked her teeth. “Now, you know I’m the last person to give a flying fuck about his feelings. Besides, he’s a pussy, anyway. He’d jump off the Eiffel Tower if you told him to, but if he likes it, I love it.”
“And you know I love it, right?” I grinned.
“Shit, I don’t blame you.”
I walked toward the door. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see y’all in the morning.”
“Good night,” they replied.
My eyes were heavy and sleep was near. I walked into my room and switched off the light before jumping into my bed and pulling the comforter over my head.
***
The next morning we were up and at it. The weekends — Saturday, to be exact — were our shopping days. We would spend hours and hours in the mall, going in and out of every store.
“I’m tired as hell,” Nehiya complained while strolling behind us. That was to be expected, considering the weather was a scorching 91 degrees. That was one thing about South Florida that drove me crazy: the damn heat index. I swear it was hell on Earth.
“I don’t know why. It ain’t like you did shit last night,” Chyna joked.
“You must be crazy, because I was the driver,” Nehiya became defensive.
“How could we forget that? But it’s okay, because you have the next lick,” Chyna said.
“Oh, baby, you ain’t said nothing but a word. I got this.”
I couldn’t help myself. I had to join in. “Tell them you would lay a nigga down quick. Don’t let the shy shit fool you.”
“Oh, ok, I see you co-signing that mess,” Chyna added.
“Damn right, but tonight we chilling.” I knew they wouldn’t agree.
“Damn it, Barbee, why?”
“I just want to chill tonight and party. Besides, I want to sit back, observe, and hit a major lick, but that takes research. They are having a grand opening for this new strip club called Flexx in Palm Beach. I know it’s going to be a lot of ballers in the building, so I want to take it slow and clean house. I have that Mossberg pump I’ve been dying to use.”
Chyna glanced at me. “You just trigger happy.”
“That’s not true,” I smiled. “I only shoot when necessary.” I had to defend myself, although she was a little more than right.
“Now you know you need to quit, Bee, because you get off to that shit.”
“Y’all leave her alone. It’s not her fault she’s a control freak,” Nehiya laughed.
“Damn, you too, Nehiya?” I had to express my inner emotions. “I can’t deny your accusations because I love being in control, and I can’t help it.” I was getting caught up in the moment. “I get this rush, like I’m unstoppable like that dude in crank.”
“Is that right?” Nehiya asked.
I paused for a second. “I feel like I’m the female Jessie James of my time.”
“Girl, you are crazy as hell.”
***
I hit the alarm on my brand new Lexus and filled the trunk with our shopping bags. It was still early when we made it back to our middle class neighborhood, which was extremely nice and quiet. We had six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a den, and a swimming pool.
Life for us has not always been this sweet; we had to work hard to get to where we were. We decided at a young age we wanted to have nice cars, expensive clothes and the biggest houses, so we made it happen and never looked back.
Chyna, Mercedes, and I grew up together, thick as thieves. Although Mercedes was not our blood sister, we shared the same bond. We met her in the fourth grade, and by the time we were juniors in high school her parents were killed in a car accident. Mercedes didn’t have any immediate family, so my mother and father took her in and treated her as if she was one of their kids.
The transition was easy for the most part, but things got a little rocky after my 16th birthday. I had become this rebellious soul, and all I wanted to do was run the streets. That’s what happens when a girl gets her first piece of dick. No one can tell her what to do. I was sneaking out of the house, and one day my father got tired of it and changed the locks on my ass. He wouldn’t let me in the house, and I was forced to live in those same streets. One thing I learned quickly was the streets didn’t love me back.
After getting kicked out, I went to live with Meat and his mom, but that shit was cut short, and I was back where I started. One late night I was chilling with the neighborhood hustlers and I was approached by Fox. My life changed from that point on. It took two years for me to come to my senses and dip out on that nigga, and just like clockwork I was back with Meat once again – but this time around he had his own place.
Chyna was the child who listened to my parents and didn’t give them any problems. After I was kicked out, she wasn’t allowed to talk to me. However, she would sneak away and come visit me just to make sure I was okay. If my father knew, he probably would’ve kicked her ass out, too, for disobeying his rule.
There was never a doubt he loved me because he cried as I stood on the opposite side of the door, begging for him to let me in. I could remember seeing his tear-stained face like it was yesterday.
“Barbee, baby, I cannot let you back in here. You wanted to be an adult so bad, so here’s your chance. One day you will realize everything I tried to instill in you was for your own good.”
“Daddy, I’m sorry. Please don’t kick me out.”
He shook his head and cried. “I’m sorry, baby, but you have to learn the hard way. You made a hard bed, and now you have to sleep in it.”
Chyna heard the commotion and ran to the door. “Daddy, let her in, please.”
He turned to face her. “She can’t come here, and I better not catch you talking to her.”
“But she’s my sister.”
“I will not allow her to corrupt you. I’ve done all I can do for this girl. If I can save one of y’all, I’ve done my job.” My daddy turned to face me. “It’s a tough world out there, baby doll, so be careful and remember I love you, no matter what.”
My daddy closed the door on me, and I had no choice but to face the world alone.
Nehiya joined the circle when I was out getting money with Fox. She was running the streets and hanging out with the local petty hustlers. I took her up under my wing as a little sister and taught her the game. During her teenage years she spent her time bouncing between different group homes thanks to her mom being an unfit parent and living from pillow to post. One day Nehiya’s mom and uncle got into it because she left her home alone on one too many occasions. Completely fed up, he called the police on his sister and Nehiya was removed from the home. To this day she had no relationship with her family.
I remember when I first introduced her to Chyna, she was not having it. She couldn’t get over the fact I befriended a complete stranger and brought her into our circle. I could hear her now.
“Why are you bringing that snake around us?” Chyna pouted.
I would always brush off her comment as a form of jealousy, so she eventually let go and the comments stopped.
One thing about my clique, there was no one who could tear us apart, and there was no way we would allow anyone else in our circle, let alone our home. Our plans were all the same: no settling down, getting married, or having kids. Our focus was simple: get money, stay single, and live lavish. Our rules were not to be broken. There were no niggas whatsoever to step foot or sleep in the Pussy Palace, our home. Our motto was written in stone: fuck a nigga and his friends and take them motherfucking ends.
I parked my car in the driveway next to Chyna’s Infinity Coupe. We kept our rental car in the garage until we were ready for work. There was no way in hell we were going to make our rides hot.
I popped the trunk. “Chyna, go and open the door.”
After unloading the trunk and putting away my clothes, I was extremely tired. All I could do was lay on my king size bed and close my eyes. As soon as I was comfortable, I was rudely interrupted by Chyna.
“Get up!” she demanded.
“What do you want?” I whined. “Why are you in here?”
She sat her 125-pound frame right beside me. “I just got off the phone with Mommy, and she wants us to come over tomorrow for a barbecue.”
“Is that all she wanted?” I was prepared for her to tell me we had to go to the store and pick up a few things on the way there.
“No, we don’t have to go to the store this time.”
I didn’t reply. I was hoping she would get the hint and leave me alone, but she didn’t. I rolled over. “What now?”
“She said call her.”
“Okay.”
I rolled back over so I could take a quick nap, and she was still sitting there. “I will call her when I get up.” Two minutes had passed, and in walked Mercedes with her loud mouth.
“Black girl, get up,” she shouted.
I snapped. “If you don’t get your loudmouth-ass out of here, I am going to kill you.” She totally ignored me and lay down directly in front of me. I could feel her breath blowing in my face. “I’m glad your breath doesn’t stink.”
She laughed. “Damn, I was hoping that it did.”
“Why can’t y’all just leave me alone for a little while?” All I wanted was a nap.
“You know we can’t function without you,” Mercedes said.
“I know.”
It was crazy because I knew it was true. They depended on me like a cancer patient depended on chemo.
I could hear the sound of music playing. I knew it was my phone, and I also knew who the caller was, so I picked it up without hesitation.
“Hey, Amon, what’s up?” I sat up with my back against my headboard.
“Just cooling. What you doing?” Amon asked while rolling up a blunt.
“I was trying to take a nap, but you can’t get any sleep around here.”
“Did y’all go out last night?” he asked.
“Hell yeah, we did.”
“Was it smooth?”
“Like a baby’s ass.”
“I started to call you earlier, but I got tied up.”
“Oh, I was out shopping anyway, so you probably wouldn’t have gotten an answer.”
He laughed, but I didn’t catch what was funny. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because you are the only person I know who turns off their phone when they go shopping.”
“I have to concentrate,” I laughed with him. “Are you going to Club Flex tonight?”
“I thought about going. Are you?”
“Hell yeah,” I replied.
“What time you heading out?” he asked.
“Eleven.”
“Okay, we’ll meet up and go together.”
“I’ll call you when I get dressed.”
I was just about to hang up before he started talking again. “One more thing. Do you know about the cookout tomorrow?”
“Yeah, Mommy called Chyna and told her about it.” Amon and I were first cousins, but we were more like sister and brother. Our mothers were sisters.
“Yeah, she called me, too. But I have to go. I have this crazy-ass chick waiting on me. I’ll see you later.”
“Ok.”
I sat my phone down on the bed, stretched my arms out, and yawned.
“What did Amon want?” Mercedes asked while twirling her hair.
“He was trying to see if we were going out tonight.”
“Why, is he going?” Chyna asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I got up to escort Mercedes and Chyna out of my room and lock my door. There was no way I was going out without taking a nap first.
