Page 15

SUMMER brEAK WITH A BADDIE

It was a hot and humid day in Southwave, and I couldn’t wait to hit the beach with a fine ass Colorado chick I’d met at Velvet South.

I had a slight hangover, and it had been a minute since I had a day off, so I wanted to be on some chill shit.

Before transforming into a beach bum with a baddie, I had to pick up some money from Hurricane.

I couldn’t stand seeing this evil ass nigga most days, but I did to keep the peace.

I made it to his office, and as usual, he was degrading Yummi, and the shit immediately got under my skin.

“It took you an hour to get here, and you ain’t bring no fuckin’ food.

You sit on your ass all day at home ‘til your night shift. The least you can do is make a nigga a meal. You throw that dry ass pussy on me and starve me. You worse than these hoes on my dick,” he told her as she stood next to him at his conference table, and Sparkle looked on, enjoying the show.

“You rushed me here to bring you this duffle bag; that’s why I ain’t come with any food. If you hate me so bad, why are you with me, Hosea?” she responded boldly.

I stood in the doorway observing their confrontation.

“Bitch, what I tell you about calling me by my government name in front my gang? Get your stupid ass out of here and get my food.” He shoved her away from him.

“You done bein’ a bully, nigga?” I asked, letting my presence be known.

Hurricane looked at me and chuckled while Yummi used that time to rush off, but she made eye contact with me before she left. The pitiful look on her face had me mad at her.

“Yeah, I’m done. You got an issue with the way I talk to mine? You always in my shit.” He frowned.

“You sure you wanna go there?” I raised my eyebrow.

He smacked his lips. “You came to get your money or scold me?”

“I ain’t scolding you, but you need to chill with the shit you doin’. Now clear these niggas out, so I can get my money and go. I gotta pick my lil’ bitch up from the Sable Hotel.”

He smirked. “That lil thick chick from Velvet South, who said she was visiting from Starlight Hills?”

“Yeah, her,” I replied nonchalantly.

Hurricane dug in the duffle bag Yummi left on the table and pulled eight stacks of money. I turned up my nose as he slid it to me.

“You owe me that whole bag, my nigga. You ain’t paid me in thirty days.”

“Aw, man. You know shit been slow since police been flockin’ the shore. I need the rest to pay our workers. This next shipment is supposed to be big, so I got you. Stop actin’ like you hurtin’.”

“Just because I ain’t hurtin’, don’t mean I don’t want my money. You know what? I’ll take care of the next shipment and money pickup.”

“What, you don’t trust a nigga or somethin’?”

“Yeah, I do… But I want my money upfront.”

“Whatever, man. I know I’m in the hole with you, but I got you. Are you gon ride out with me later? I think I know who stole from us.”

“Nah, take one of them young niggas. I’m laid up for the rest of the day and tonight. You know how I do in the summer. I’m finna enjoy the fruits of my labor for a couple of days.”

“Yeah, a’ight.”

He was mad I wasn’t riding out, but he also knew I didn’t give a fuck. I stuffed the money in the backpack that I’d brought in with me and left as fast as I came in. Being in my homie’s presence started to irritate me as the days went by.

I got in my blacked-out, bulletproof Bentley truck and proceeded to drive out the lot, but I stopped my whip when I spotted Yummi sitting on a brick wall while smoking a fat ass blunt.

I could tell she had been crying with the faint smudges of mascara beneath her eyes.

I pulled closer to her and let my window down.

“Aye!” I called out to her immediately, causing her to look my way since she was staring off into space. She jumped off the wall and hastily dabbed at her cheeks before putting on a fake smile. She was trying to hide her tears, but that was a failure.

“Hey, Mula. You need something?” She brushed her hands down the tight stone-washed jeans she wore.

“Nah, I don’t need nothin’. But get in… we need to have a conversation.”

She looked around at her surroundings nervously, causing me to snap at her.

“Man, get yo’ ass in! That’s exactly what we gotta talk about. You being scared of my homie.”

It had been years since we talked to each other, and I was upset we had to get back acquainted over some bullshit.

She walked to the truck, and I couldn’t help but check her out.

Yummi was 5’3, thick in all the right places, with light caramel skin and a baby face.

She wore her hair long and curly and had beautiful brown eyes.

I never looked at her sexually in the name of Coast, but I was starting to think that I should.

She was fine as fuck, and Hurricane treated her like she was bottom of the barrel.

When Yummi got in, I sped out of the lot.

“Where are we going?” she asked, fidgety.

“For a ride.” I got in traffic and made my way to the main street, which was called Sable Highway.

“Am I in trouble?” She continued to sound unsettled, but I was going to break her out of that when she came around me now.

“Hell yeah, you are… You remember what I told you when I had to drag you out of Coast’s funeral?”

She sighed and picked at her long white nails. “Yeah, I remember. You told me not to show my weakness, and you told me that if you had to step in, I wasn’t going to like it.”

“Exactly… and you been wearing that shit on your shoulders for everybody to take advantage of. You got bitches laughing in your face, and you ain’t beat her ass yet. You want your rounds with that bitch, Sparkle? I can set it up. Don’t worry about Hurricane stopping it either.”

“I want more than my rounds with Sparkle. I wanna smoke on that bitch corpse in a Backwoods after I take her fuckin’ head off.” She frowned.

“That’s right, get mad. Now what’s stoppin’ you from bringing out yo’ gangsta?” I stopped at a red light and glared at her.

“You know what’s stopping me, Mula. The bitch does a lot for the empire, so I ignore her. Leaving Hurricane ain’t no walk in the park either. I’m still with him because he needs me mentally. Has he told you how bad it’s gotten? He sees Coast, Mula.”

“I don’t give a fuck. What I care about is you.

That nigga ain’t God, he ain’t untouchable, and he uses his mental illness to get by you.

Protection is in yo’ reach, if you need it to move around this nigga for your safety.

Ain’t like you need money. You still got the three million Coast left you that you haven’t dug up in y'all mama's backyard, Yummi.”

“What are you sayin’, Mula?”

“You know what I’m sayin’. But ‘til then, I need you to boss the fuck up. This ain’t the Yummi I know. This new Yummi is pussy.”

“I have been pussy, and I’m ashamed. You remember the Yummi that used to ride on the back of a jet ski with you three times a month from the shore to The Shadows for them packs.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll never forget how I hit a wave that one time, and you dropped the pack in the fuckin’ water.”

She laughed. “And you swam damn near to the ocean’s floor to get it!”

“You laughing now, but your ass was calling my name for dear life. You thought a nigga was dead.” I shook my head.

“You came back up from underwater with that bag. You’re the real MVP.”

I took a moment to get caught in her gaze, but the car behind us started blowing. I put my eyes on the road and drove off.

“I’m finna take you back. I just wanted to let you know that.”

“Thanks for the pep talk. I needed it.” She smiled bashfully.

I took Yummi back to Hurricane. Before she got out, she put her new number in my phone and texted herself to get mine.

“If you need me, you can always call me, Yummi. Hurricane ain’t the only nigga you gotta look up to,” I assured before I drove off.

I was thirty minutes late picking up my lil’ vibe, Storm.

She was a bronze-complected chick from Starlight Hills, Colorado, with a body I couldn’t keep my eyes off of in the club.

I wasn’t into one-night stands, so I told her I’d hit her the following day.

That way we could see each other sober and figure out from there if we wanted to fuck on each other.

I was bougie when it came to my dick. I didn’t let just any bitch jump on it.

A lot of girls I fucked around with were out-of-towners because the distance between me, women, and my busy schedule worked for me.

The women in Sable Cove said I moved too fast for them, so I stayed out of their way.

Plus, they talked too much when they got with me if I exposed them to my lifestyle too much.

I texted Storm and told her I was outside the hotel, and she was in my passenger seat in five minutes, looking sexy.

“What’s up, baby? You sexy than a muthafucka.” She looked and smelled so tropical, I had to reach over and kiss her neck.

She giggled. “Thank you, boo. You lookin’ good, too. Are we still headed to the beach?”

“Yeah, we are. I live on the coast, so we gon’ chill in my backyard.”

“Ohhh, that’s fancy. Can we stop and get some food?”

“Yeah, I’ll take you to this seafood spot I like to go to before we head to the crib.”

We went to get food, but we ate there. Then, we went to my one-story, three-bedroom beach house on the east side of Sable Cove City in an upper middle-class beach community, ways from the neighborhood I grew up in, which was Southwave in the projects.

The neighborhood was complemented by palm trees and peace.

That was just what I needed when it came to the mild PTSD I had from being in the streets since I was thirteen years old.

When I needed my peace, I came to my crib and stayed inside for weeks until my ill feelings about past murders and Coast’s death subsided.