Chapter Thirteen
Hooking up with Ocean, Rico went with her and their son to Chuck E. Cheese. With Rico’s pockets staying on empty, the entire evening of family time was sponsored by Ocean—by way of her older mystery man. Thanks to him, Rico was able to run around, with his son at his side, playing every game and putting him on every ride without giving two shits about how many tokens he was using.
“In between that new car and judging by that knot in your purse, it seems like you hit a serious lick with this so-called man. Where you meet his ass at anyway?”
“One night I was leaving the club, and he was just there.” Ocean giggled, explaining the chance-encounter-turned-financial-windfall. “He was parked over near the fence with his headlights out. When I went to unlock my car door, he rolled down his window and flashed some cash! Shit—he scared my black ass, almost making me pee on myself.”
Drinking a mug of beer, eating the last slice of pizza, Rico was amused by her story. “Oh, yeah? Then what?”
“What you mean, then what? Please, an hour later we was in a hotel room, and I was peeing on him.”
“Oh, hell naw.”
“Oh, hell yes, my nigga. Fair exchange ain’t never a robbery.” Ocean brushed her own shoulders off. “You know how I do. I’m gonna get that money. I don’t care who I gotta fuck or suck to do it.” Looking over at the multi-colored ball pit their son was playing in, she began to grin from ear to ear. “Me and mines gonna always be okay with or without your deadbeat ass.”
“Dig that.” Rico low-key admired her go-getter attitude. To most, Ocean might have been considered a slut, but in his eyes, his baby mama was a trooper and about her paper.
Finishing the rest of their game tokens, the trio headed back to the Westside neighborhood they both called home. Ocean had to go to work later and insisted that she and Rico part ways before she dropped their son off at the sitter.
“For real, I don’t need your broke, good-hating ass hanging around the club tonight. You better go make up with that low-self-esteem bitch you dealing with—the one that made you cut them dreads.”
“Maybe I will, but not now,” Rico admitted with a devilish smirk. “She can wait. Right about now, you can just drop me off on Linwood and Davison.”
Driving off, Ocean left her baby daddy right on the corner. It was now dark outside, and he was still hungry as hell despite the paper-thin pizza slices he had at Chuck E. Cheese. Rico decided to grab a couple of original wings and maybe an order of potato wedges from KFC.
Heading through the glass double doors, he was shocked to see—who else, ironically—Swazy on his way out of the restaurant.
“Damn, dawg. What up, doe.” Swazy was the first to speak. “Where in the fuck you been hiding?”
“Hiding? Whatever. I’m still in the game.” Rico gave him the serious fuck-you-faggot side-eye. “I’m still pushing that bag.”
“I tried calling your wild ass. Damn, guy, you cut your dreads.”
“What?” Rico twisted his face in disbelief, tilting his head to the side. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Come on, dude.” Swazy tried taking a cop, knowing he’d been waiting on an opportunity to make amends. “We go too far back to let some dumb shit come between us being cool. We was all high as fuck and drunk as hell.”
“And what’s your point, Swazy? Huh? That shit was foul—but I guess blood thicker than water, huh?”
“Come on, man. Think about it. You was wrong as hell pulling a gun on niggas—your boys and shit!”
“Yeah, where in the fuck is my gun anyway? I need—naw, I want that shit back.” Rico’s voice grew in volume as the girl working the cash register and a few other customers looked on.
“Yo, I been had it, but your ass went underground. After the hood was talking about you tearing up ole girl truck and the police coming by your crib, niggas ain’t know what jumped. And everybody around here knows how Keisha is. They ain’t asking her jack, and she showl in the fuck ain’t volunteering a damn thing.” Swazy tried defusing Rico’s long-standing anger. “Come on, guy. Let’s just squash this shit.”
Thinking about what happened to him that night at the hands of Swazy and his cousin, and taking in consideration he knew Swazy had just dry-snitched him out to Keisha earlier, Rico’s mind started working overtime.
“Yeah, all right, man. We cool, but your cousin, he straight grimy. Him and me got some unfinished business. That dude a full-grown snake.”
Swazy gave him a playful shoulder bump while still holding onto a big bag of chicken. “Listen, guy. Ole boy about to hop on that dog in a few heading south. That’s why I got this grub and a big-ass Faygo Red Pop in the ride. “I just gotta pick him up from this skank’s crib on the Eastside, near Mack and Bewick, and drop him off at Greyhound. He taking that work back, so you know he gonna be ghost for a good while. Y’all can work that shit out later—like men.”
“Oh, yeah.” Rico schemed as his vindictive-toned words dripped from his lips. “Maybe so.”
“Yeahm dawg. Why don’t you hit me up in about ninety minutes and we can blow something up in the air? Maybe have a toast to them locs you cut off.”
Hell bent on revenge, Rico agreed before Swazy left. Conveniently, he didn’t mention him speaking to Keisha over at the Coney Island, so Rico played the game also and didn’t either. After eating his food in the dining area, Rico headed home.
* * *
Noticing all the lights were off inside the house except for the bathroom, Rico crept through each dark room. Praying Keisha wasn’t bold enough to be hiding with a frying pan or another bat to try to detach his head from the rest of his body, he tried to be as quiet as possible.
“I hear your two-timing, rotten bastard ass in this house, Rico Campbell. You ain’t slick.”
Rico paused, but only long enough to look for something in the hallway to defend himself. “Look, Keisha. I ain’t come back here for all that nonsense you was talking earlier. I ain’t in the mood.”
With a jar of Motions hair relaxer in one hand and a comb in the other, Keisha stepped out into the hallway.
“You ain’t in the mood?” She sucked her teeth and continued smoothing in the chemical. “Well, guess what? Neither am I. Matter of fact, I’m done talking about it. From this point on, you do you, because I’m damn straight doing me!”
“Oh, yeah?” Rico bossed up, sensing his money train was pulling out the station yet again. “What you saying?”
“Negro, please. I know that Detroit public school education taught you a little bit of common sense, didn’t it?” Keisha dipped back in the bathroom, looking into the mirror. “But just in case it didn’t, let me break the bullshit down for your stupid ass. Nigga, as of today, right now, this fucking second, me and you is through. Over.”
For the past month, up until a few hours ago, bad-boy Rico had been on his best behavior where Keisha was concerned. He really hadn’t been hanging out with his boys all times of the night. He truly wasn’t calling Keisha negative, disrespectful names or putting his hands on her. As for kicking it with other females, besides calling Ocean earlier, he was innocent of even flirting with the next chick. However, if Keisha wanted it like that, to him, it was definitely not a problem.
“Okay, check this out, you ugly, fucked-up-in-the-face rat. You run around here in this hood, thinking you better than everybody. Well, guess what? Niggas be clownin’ your fake ass and clownin’ me for dealing with a fat-ass monster like you.” Rico spit on the floor, showing his disgust for their relationship. “Every time I wake up and see that mug, let alone kiss you, I wanna throw up.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that right?” Keisha felt tears swell in her eyes.
“Yeah, but hold up, you stankin’ bitch. Don’t get to crying now, Keisha. You wanted to man up, so man up.”
“I’m only crying because I wasted so much of my time on an uneducated hood hoodlum like you. When I finish my hair, I’m gonna get dressed and find me somebody who appreciates me.”
Walking away and into the bedroom, Rico soon returned with a stun gun he had hidden up on the closet shelf. “Okay, smart-talking, goofy trick with all the mouth. Get on your motherfucking knees and suck this big black dick before you leave. Then ask the next buster that kiss you out in them streets how my nut taste.”
With a head full of perm, Keisha stood back, asking him if he was crazy. While she was reaching for a towel, Rico hit the button, making a small amount of electric charge buzz through the top. Realizing she had nowhere to run, Keisha tried to bargain and negotiate her way out of the potential violent situation.
“Okay, wait a minute, Rico.” She threw both hands up, dropping the towel. “Why you doing this? Why? You the one that broke your promise. You the one that was talking to that stripper Ocean on the phone, baby mama or not. And you the one that took that messed-up video that ruined my damn life in the first place.”
Seemingly mad at the world, Rico’s eyes looked cold and lifeless. Gripping the black, rectangular-shaped handle, he hit the button once more.
“And guess what, Keisha? I’m the one that’s about to get his dick sucked, too. So stop talking and drop down like I told you. Now!”
Having no other choice but to do as she was told, begrudgingly she eased her thick body down in between the sink and the bathtub. With the stinging feeling of the extra-strength perm starting to burn and irritate her scalp, Keisha opened her mouth wide, taking all of Rico in that she possibly could. As she slurped and licked the head and the shaft, he callously hit the button on the fully charged stun gun a couple of more times, causing Keisha to jerk her neck.
Just as he was about to bust, Rico took a step backward, sliding his pole out her wet mouth. Using his free hand, he took direct aim at her face. Completely amused at the sight of her on her knees, with white-in-color perm caked in her head and a wad of his cum oozing down from her barely open eyelids, Rico couldn’t contain himself.
“Damn, you ugly. You one fucked-up ho. I swear for God, you busted.” He cruelly meant every word he was saying. “I wish you could see your uppity ass now. Matter of fact—” Reaching in the back pocket of his jeans that were still down past his knees, he pulled out his cracked-screen cell. Holding it up, he dared her to try to hide her face as he took several pictures. “I can’t see this shit clearly now, but fuck it, I bet the next nigga’s screen ain’t fucked up.”
“Rico, please don’t. Please!” Keisha’s scalp felt like it was on fire. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she begged, still on her knees.
“Shut the fuck up, Keisha! That’s your problem—you talk too damn much. For a whole month, I was posted in this raggedy motherfucker, and you got the nerve to be talking about giving the pussy to the next nigga. Bitch, please. Don’t nobody want you but me. Your life is useless, ma. Remember that.” He pulled his pants back up, zipping them. “And if you keep talking slick, even I ain’t gonna want that ass. You know what? Fuck this bullshit and you. I’m out.” Pissed off, Rico took the money for the rent from Keisha’s purse. For her sake, luckily, he didn’t see A.J.’s cell number folded up, or there’d be no telling what he’d do next. Irritated, he left the house with Keisha still in the bathroom on the floor, scared to move.
When, and only when, she was sure he was gone, she turned the shower on full blast. Not having time to even take her clothes off, Keisha jumped underneath the strong pressure of the cold water. Exhaling, she felt the relief of the burning chemical rinse out her almost-ear-length hair. Tightly closing her eyes, letting the water wash away Rico’s sperm, she prayed he wouldn’t let anyone see the pictures he’d just taken. Raising her hand up to wipe some of the water from her face, she felt huge clumps of her hair falling from her head and onto the shower floor. Seeing it clog the drain, Keisha slid down the wet walls and sat there in disbelief over the mess she’d made of her life.
* * *
Rico met up with Swazy at a mutual friend’s house. The girl, whom they had both banged at one point or another, was always down to get high, drunk, or fuck, so chilling over there to daybreak was definitely not a problem. After she was passed out cold, Swazy and Rico continued to get high. Still trying to feel each other out, the once-closer-than-brothers best friends curiously asked questions about each other’s recent dealings.
Rico, on a mission, had one thing and one thing only in mind, and that was to fuck Swazy’s street credibility over like he’d done his that night at the dice game, and then ultimately put a bullet in his cousin’s head. So, of course, every question Rico was asked, he answered carefully.
This boy think I’m a fool. He ain’t said jack shit about seeing Keisha’s ugly ass up at the Coney Island. Rico suspiciously smirked from across the room. He probably wanna hook his cousin up with my meal ticket. Sneaky motherfucker. That’s why he keep bringing her and me up.
Swazy, on the other hand, had his own agenda. Not really giving a fuck about Rico truly forgiving him, low-key the only thing he was interested in was information about Keisha and how Rico’s relationship with her was going. Commissioner Jackson was pressuring revoking his probation and getting him locked up if he didn’t hold up his side of the bargain. From the first time he met him and from several phone updates, Swazy could easily tell Keisha’s father was not to be played with and far from a joke.