So Gone

Enough Is Enough


Blunt

My eyes saw nothin’ but red as I headed back to Chunuchi’s place. I was ready to put my foot in that bitch’s ass and body Fatal for them f*ckin’ all out in the open where Devin could see them. I busted the block and did a hunnid miles per hour headed back to that punk ass bitch's house.

I slammed on brakes and threw the car in park outside her door. I tossed my cell phone on the dashboard, grabbed my banger from under the front seat, and told Devin, "Stay right here!"





I was out the car and at Chunuchi's door in a few long strides. The vein in my temple threatened to pop as I banged on the door like I was the mothaf*ckin’ Feds.

“What you want?" asked Chunuchi through the door. She sounded like I was disturbing her trifling ass or something.

“Bitch, open the door.”

“For what?” I’m busy up in here and you don’t regulate nothin’, Boo Boo.”

“You a nasty hoe,” I snapped.

“Nigga, don’t come to my house with no bullshit. I’m tryna get my p-ssy licked and you’re blockin’.”

“Blockin’? Bitch I don’t give a f*ck what you do wit’ yo’ funky ass p-ssy! Just don’t be f*ckin’ round my son,” I said.

I regretted ever planting a seed in her punk ass. She was nothin' but a cum bucket when I met her and hadn't nothin' changed.

“How am I f*ckin’ in front of Devin? He’s with you,” Chunuchi replied.

I repeated what my seed had told me.

“Nigga, you sound stupid as hell.” She giggled like the shit was funny. “Wasn’t nobody dickin’ me in my ass, I don’t get down like that. Hmmph. It hurt a bitch to go to the bathroom. So trust, I wasn’t takin’ it up the ass. Since you all up in my business, I was getting it doggie style, and he was all up in it way better than you ever hit it.”

“Who gives a flyin’ f*ck? You and that nigga better keep that shit outta my son’s face or I’ma come see both of y’all,” I warned.

“Boy, you ain’t no big bad wolf. Anyway, while Devin was spying on me, he was supposed to be in bed. I’m gonna whoop his ass when you bring him back home. I’ma teach his li’l black ass ‘bout runnin’ and tellin’ you my business.”

The hoe’s mouth was getting real wreckless. “I’m not bringin’ him back home. You’re an unfit mother.”

Chunuchi popped her dick suckin’ lips. “Oh, do you think that would hurt me? You can have his grown ass. Bye, get away from my door. I raised my banger, finna blast through the door and wet that punk hoe up. Then I thought. Why would I let her and Fatal play me back into the penitentiary?

As hard as it was for a nigga like me to walk away without blood being spilled, I regained my composure and decided to bid my time. There was a better way to go about it and the results for Chunuchi and Fatal should be the same.

I put my strap back on my waist and walked back to the car. I slid behind the wheel and pushed on to Mika’s to get my son Antwan.

“Daddy, that broad Mo' called you,” said Devin. He held my phone in his hands, strolling through it.

I couldn't do nothin' but laugh at his li'l grown ass, calling Mo' a broad. “Boy, gimme my phone,” I said, taking it from him and rubbing his head affectionately.

“You wanna go get Antwan?” I asked him.

“I 'on care. It's up to you, I'm doing me,” he replied. I cracked the f*ck up; my li'l man was off the meat rack.

On the way over to Mika's, I got a call from Mo’, and she started her bullshit.

“Blunt, I cannot believe you would be so trifling as to have another woman in my house, and a slum ass bitch at that!”

I instantly knew what she was referring to because Luscious was the only bitch that I had ever taken over there. That was a bad move on my part, I now realized.

“Mo' . . .”

“Save it, Blunt! Just come and get the rest of your shit. Better yet, stay wherever the hell you are because you won’t have anything to come and get when I’m done. I’m going to make a bonfire out of your shit.”

“Baby, please calm down and hear me out,” I pleaded.

“Hear you out?” I could hear her sniffling. “Man, you bought a pigeon in my house to f*ck her, and you have the audacity to ask me to let you explain? How dumb do you think I am?”

“Mo’, I’ll be home in a lil while. We’ll talk.” I was overwhelmed with the bullshit.

“A*shole, if you show up here, I’ll be sending you to the mortuary tonight,” she seethed.

I overheard Leesha in the background cheerleading. “Tell ‘em, Cuz, ‘cause he ain’t shit!”

“Tell that bitch to shut the f*ck up,” I roared.

My phone beeped alerting me that I had an incoming call. I was able to answer it because Mo had hung up on me.

“What the f*ck do you want?” I barked at Luscious and pressed down on the accelerator after the light turned green.

“I want you to check your floozy for coming to my house with some chick and showing her ass. I thought she was high class?”

“F*ck you talkin' 'bout? I don't have time to play no guessing games so spit it out or get off my line,” I growled.

Luscious went on to tell me what happened. I slowly turned into Mika’s driveway and hopped out of my whip. I walked up to the door and knocked twice.

“How did she find out that I had you over to the house?” I questioned Luscious as I waited for Mika to open the door.

Luscious got quiet, which meant that the hoe was formulating a lie. Mika opened the door and greeted me with a smile. She was my calm amidst any storm that came through. She gave me a kiss on the lips and I flopped down on her living room sofa with the phone still up to my ear.

Luscious dummied up. “You had to tell her ‘cause I damn sho’ didn’t.”

“I didn’t tell her shit,” I said as low as possible to keep Mika from hearing how grimey I could be. “Sounds like she beat yo’ ass,” I added.

Ha! In her sedity dreams. I put a good ghetto beat down on that hoe,” she claimed.

“I just bet you did.”

“And Baby, Mo’ was the one who keyed your car,” she added.

“Na, she wouldn’t do---” I stopped in mid sentence because yes Mo’ would key my car if she’d burn my clothes.

“That bitch got you fooled,” Luscious said.

“No, she don't. I believe you. Anyway, what else is shaking?”

“Oh, Daddy, I got some good news for you. Polo was over here when your girl came through showing out. Afterwards, I told him that I needed to get away from here for a few days. He invited me to his house for the weekend.”

My ears perked up and a smile came across my face. We had been trying for months to find out where Polo rested at.

“Did I do good?” Luscious asked.

“Yeah, Shawdy,” I said, grinning as I imagined what was inside of Polo’s safe,

“Now can I see you? You’ve had me on a dick diet long enough. My nana miss you.”

“Yeah, I’ll come through later on.” When I ended the call, I looked over at Mika and she rolled her eyes at me.

“Bae, you’re getting sloppy. Tighten up your game,” she advised.

I mean mugged her. “Don’t you start trippin’ on me, too.”

“Bitch talks too much,” Li’l Devin chimed in from the sofa and put his foot up on the couch.

Me and Mika’s mouths flew open at the same time. “Okay, Li’l Boy, I’m about to whoop your ass for that. Enough is enough.” She snatched him from his seat by one arm.

“Get off of me,” he cried, expecting me to come to his rescue. But that was one ass whoopin’ my son was gonna have to wear because while his behind was on fire, so were my clothes.

A text from Mo’ read: Just set a match to a pile of your gear…

I did jet time over to her crib and left Devin screaming for me to save him from Mika.





Loose Lips Sink Ships


Molaysia

I stood in the backyard watching the red and yellow flames slowly turn a pile of Blunt’s clothes into ashes. As the hot flames went upward, I stood there recalling all the shit I had put up with.

Leesha and the twins had gone back early to Memphis, because of an emergency. Now my only company was the anger that swelled within. I heard a car door slam in the driveway. A few seconds later, Blunt came flying around the corner of the house. He stormed up to me with eyes as red as the fire at my feet.

“Mo' have you lost your damn mind? Why the f*ck are you burning up my shit?” he growled like an angry bear.

“Because you are nothin’ but a no good dog! You lowdown, black bastard! You should thank God that it's your clothes burning and not your ass. Why would you screw your bitch in my house, Blunt? You dirty, cheating bastard!” I attacked him with flailing arms.

“Mo, chill the f*ck out!” he barked, pinning my arms to my sides.

“Let go of me!” I cried.

He released me and stormed into the house. I was right on his heels. “I hope yo’ crazy ass ain’t burned up all my stuff!” he gritted as he ran to the bedroom to check the closet.

“Nope, the rest is in the bathroom, mothaf*cka,” I said.

Blunt was taken aback by my foul language, but it was he that had pushed me beyond the limit. He stared at me with disbelief on his face.

“What? You like your foul-mouthed hoes in the streets but not at home?” I spat, bumping up against him with my chest. I was ready to throw down.

“Get your li'l ass out the way.” He easily brushed me aside.

He made his way in the bathroom and found his belongings stacked up in the Jacuzzi. He whirled around scowling, “You poured bleach on my shit?”

I glanced down and saw his jeans had huge white spots all over them. His polo shirts had big holes and bleach stains on them. I used my best pair of scissors to design those bad boys.

“You brought another woman into my house and think I’m supposed to just shake that shit off like it never happened?” I cried.

“You don't know what the f*ck you're talking about.”

“Oh no? Follow me.” I grabbed the front of his shirt and drug his lying ass into the guest room where he had laid up with his bitch in my house.

On the floor beside the bed were his bitch’s crusty panties and bra. I bent over, picked them up, and mushed them in Blunt's face. “Explain to me how Luscious stank drawers got under my bed.” Fire shot out of my eyes.

“I don’t kno’ who's shit that is. I ain’t had Luscious or nan other bitch in here,” he persisted.

“Blunt you lie so much it comes easily to you. You're pitiful!” I jabbed my finger in his face and stormed out the room.

Blunt ran up, grabbed me from behind, and roughly spun me around to face him.

“Mo’, you’re buggin’ for nothing. How the f*ck you figure those belong to Luscious? Shawdy, you’re trippin' those probably belong to your cousin,” he refuted.

“Boy, you sound so damn stupid. You need to train your jumpoff not to run and tell. That slimy maggot doesn’t know how to keep her mouth closed. She texted me and told it all. Oh, you have really messed up this time.”

Blunt knew that he was busted. He opened his lying mouth, attempting one last time to lie his way out of the hole that he had dug himself in, but I over-talked him.

“Save your lies because I'm done listening to them. You might as well run right back over there where she is because your ship has sailed over here. Game over!” I slapped him across the face as an exclamation.

Blunt picked me up like a rag doll and tossed me on the bed, straddling me. “My bad, Mo. I f*cked up. I was drunk that night,” he continued to fib. Then he made the mistake of trying to kiss me.

I socked him dead in the mouth. “Don't you dare put your nasty lips on me! There's no telling where your mouth has been, you dog!” I yelled in his face.

“Shawdy, it ain't even like that.”

“It's not?” I thundered. “You’ve been over there eating that bitch’s worn out coochie, then coming home and kissing me.” The thought made me want to puke all over myself.

“Mo’, I love you. Don’t let that hating hoe break up what we got.”

I pushed him off of me and bounced to my feet. “F*ck you! Go on over there with your rotten p-ssy bitch. I’m going to get me a real man who can be faithful and love me.”

The second those words rolled off my tongue Blunt slung me back on the bed, and I felt a cold object against my temple.

“Yo’ mouth is real fly. Now say what you just said again. You’re gonna do what?” His teeth were clenched and his finger was on the trigger of his silver Glock.

I closed my eyes and prayed that Blunt wouldn't shoot me.





My Nine Goes Boc! Boc!


Blunt

“Bitch, you think I won’t push ya f*ckin’ wig back?” I threatened Mo’ wit’ words that until now had been reserved for my hoes in the street.

I hadn’t lost respect for her, but the stress of dealing wit’ all those other bitches and having to lie about it was causing me to lose my mind.

I stuck the gun to her dome and challenged her to say that f*ck shit again about finding another nigga. I expected her to curl up in a ball and whimper, but she surprised me when she got the strength from somewhere to hurl me off her.

“You’re just gonna have to kill me then! Because I’m through,” she repeated.

“What?” I bellowed.

“You wanna hear me say it again? I’m going to find a man that will treat me good and love me even better. Now, go ahead and pull the trigger, mothaf*cker!”

I looked at Shorty Girl wit’ my mouth wide open. I couldn’t believe she called my bluff.

“And I got ya bitch, right here!” she said, then drew back and punched me smack in the grill.

Before I could react, she was on my ass like a banshee. I blocked most of the blows while she swung and cried. “Why would you put a f*ckin’ gun to my head?”

Real talk, she was kickin’ my ass. If she had been any other woman, the paramedics would’ve been on their way to put her on a stretcher. However, I didn’t smash her because no matter what it seemed like, I did love her.

When she was tired of swingin’, she collapsed on the floor and sobbed. Her back was heaving up and down. When I tried to comfort her, she hissed, “Don’t put your filthy hands on me, or I’ll give you some p-ssy and kill your ass when you fall asleep!”

I could see the hatred that betrayal started in her eyes. It’s a thin line between love and hate, I was always told. I could see it now, up close and personal.

“Okay, Baby, I’m out,” I said as I used my shirt’s collar to wipe away the blood from my busted lip. As I got in my car and drove aimlessly around the city, Deuce hit me on my cell.

“Sup, Fam? When you gonna break bread?” He pressed me at the wrong f*ckin’ time.

I inhaled a deep breath and sucked my teeth. “I got that on deck for you right now. Can you meet me at the liquor store on Boulevard by the railroad tracks?” I suggested.

“Yeah, I can be there in twenty minutes,” he agreed.

Twenty minutes later on the dot, Deuce drove up. I was parked with the engine off listening to a Jeezy Mix tape bobbing my head to the lyrics. When I saw Deuce get out of his whip and head towards me, I turned off the radio.

“What you got for me, Homie?” he asked as he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

My nine answered for me. Boc! Boc! Boc!

I leaned over his bloody body, opened the door, and kicked him out onto the cold ground. I cranked my whip, put it in reverse, and felt a hard hump. I had backed over his lifeless body. I put my ride in the wind and got ghost.