Zero Degrees Part 1

Forbidden Fruit

By Nika Michelle



Chapter 1



Diablo looked at me as he passed his boy the last ten bricks of coke.

“I hate having you around this,” he said.

Normally he wouldn’t have the product in our crib, but a last minute change of plans had made him do the unusual.

“Go bake these up,” he told Adonnis, also known as Ace.

The first time I saw him I was fourteen. At the time I was in and out of juvenile detention centers. The case worker the system had assigned to me said that I was just “acting out” for attention. She also claimed that I didn’t know how to interact with people on a social level because my mother and father were unfit.

My parents were hardly deserving of the title. My mom was strung out on crack before I was six years old. She never cared one way or another whether me and my little sister Amaya had a bite to eat or clothes on our backs. My father was sentenced to life in prison because of other warrants and the murder of his live in girlfriend. He had caught her and his best friend in the bed that they shared and snapped. He had beat his best friend down with a bat and put him in a coma for months. He was also charged with attempted murder. All of that went down when I was twelve.

By the time I was thirteen I was skipping school to run drugs for my father’s workers. My father was a drug dealer and that’s how my mom ended up strung out. She started out with a little weed here and there, which stemmed into coke, and later graduated to crack.

People say that weed is a gateway drug, but to me that’s bullshit. I think it’s all about greed. One high isn’t strong enough and the person wants more, so they try something stronger. Personally, weed is enough for me. That X and shit just was not my cup of tea. After my dad got locked up my mom became worse. She was still in love with him although they weren’t together and the thought of him being away from her for life drove her over the edge.

In order to take care of myself and my little sister, I had to take on the responsibility early. To get food and clothes for us, I stole whatever I could. My other hustle was watching out for my father’s old workers and running drugs for them. They promised my dad that they would take care of me, but he had no idea that they were training me to become a criminal.

The first time I got arrested, I was caught stealing at Saks. I was only thirteen and I‘d snatched up a few Gucci bags at Lenox Square Mall. Another hustle I’d picked up was selling stolen merchandise. Back then they didn’t have the expensive bags secured like they do now. Because I was a minor, I was ordered to spend time with a foster family after doing thirty days in “juvie”.

My sister was taken away from my mom and we were separated for about eight months before I saw her again. My foster parents were only in it for the money, so I was still in the streets. My sticky fingers got me caught up about two more times, but I wasn’t punished to the point of rehabilitation. I was released two days before my fourteenth birthday. DFACS sent me and Amaya to live with our cousin Vernice who was thirty six years old and had a daughter about my age. That’s where the story begins.

* * *

Because my mother was also a foster child and my father’s people were mostly in the streets, we didn’t have anybody but Vernice. Although Vernice had a two bedroom house and a decent job, she was not strict on me and her daughter Princess. I thought I was bad, but Princess was worse. She’d never been to “juvie”, but she had her share of issues.

We would sneak out at night and hang out in Gladstone Projects. Vernice would be laid up with her boyfriend David, so she wasn’t concerned with me and Princess. I met Ablo the day after my birthday. Me and Princess had crawled out of the window of the bedroom that we shared with Maya.

“C’mon bitch,” Princess laughed as I carefully slid the window down. I didn’t want to wake Maya up.

“I’m comin’,” I whispered.

We ran down the street and then we relaxed. We were away from the house so we were straight.

“Were you scared when you were in “juvie”? She asked. We hadn’t really talked about my time in “juvie”.

“Nope, you know I ain’t ‘fraid ‘a shit,” I said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I know.”

See, Princess was no angel. As a matter-of-fact I was still a virgin and she’d already had sex with four boys. I’d been in trouble and she hadn’t, but she was still bad in other ways. She just hadn’t gotten caught up yet. Her problem was that she couldn’t stay away from the streets, and the street life. I was given the streets, so it was nothing to me. We walked up the block and mad people were out. I know that we were young, but we starved for the night life. I had no idea that my life would change that night. If I had known what was to come I would’ve stayed clear of that street corner.

We were on the block laughing with a few of the high school boys that Princess knew. With me not being from that side of the city, I didn’t really know anybody. It was the middle of June and school started in August. I would be starting the eighth grade because I’d flunked out due to bad behavior, and cutting school. Princess was fifteen and would be going to the tenth grade. She was on point with school, until I came along.

We puffed on some bomb ass weed that had us geeking hard when a black Explorer rolled up screeching tires.

“There go Ablo,” Princess said looking mesmerized.

“Who’s Ablo?” I asked.

“Only the hardest muthaf*cka in Atlanta,” she said giving me the blunt.

By this time the crowd was breaking up.

“We out man,” one of the boys we were kicking it with said.

“Yeah, ya’ll can smoke the rest of that,” the shortest one added.

They walked off and I looked at Princess with a confused look on my face. “What just happened?” I asked.

“This is Ablo’s block. Most of these niggas work for him. They s’posed to be about business, so when they see Ablo they get to work.”

“Oh, so Ablo’s the big man then,” I smiled.

“Oh, nol Yanna. Ablo’s ‘bout nineteen. He’s too old for you,” Princess warned me with a frown on her face.

“I didn’t say nothin’ girl. Damn, why you lookin’ at me like that?”

“ ‘Cause Yanna. We grew up together and I know you. We might not’ve been around each other for the past year or so, but I know how your mind works,” she said seriously.

“Oh, c’mon Princess. You’re the one that’s f*ckin’ and shit, not me.”

“So, ain’t none of ‘em been over eighteen,” she said like it was nothing. I knew that she was lying.

“Yo’ Ace! C’mere nigga!” Ablo yelled out of the car window. It was ’93 and Explorers were the shit back then. It had chrome rims and a personalized license plate that read 1Blo. I was dying to see his face.

A short, cute, light-skinned dude ran to Ablo’s side of the SUV. I watched as a bronze colored arm extended out of the vehicle and handed who I assumed to be Ace, a package. I couldn’t help but notice the black cobra tattooed on his arm. It symbolized exactly what the persona of Diablo stood for. He was the well respected, venomous king of the streets.

I was only fourteen at the time, but I was very mature looking for my age. I was often mistaken to be a few years older. I was hoping that this Ablo would be easily fooled. My young hormones were raging and Princess’s numerous stories of her sexual escapades had me wondering.

Princess looked at me and shook her head.

Finally Mr. Ablo stepped out of the car and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. If I had never seen fine before I saw it right then. His smooth bronze skin and naturally curly hair made me suddenly feel weak all over. He stood about 5’11 and weighed about 195 lbs. He was toned and I could tell that he was cut up with his white wife beater on. His strong jaw line and big clear light brown eyes with the long lashes were all so perfect. I’d never felt so attracted to the opposite sex before. The fact that he was so much older than me gave me a challenge. He was standing about two feet from me and we locked eyes for a split second. When he licked his sexy, thick, brown lips I sighed.

“Damn, he’s fine,” I said almost out of breath.

“Yes he is, but he’s outta your league,” Princess said with her hands on her hips.

“I know he is older, but he ain’t outta my league. Shit, I’m fourteen in dog years.”

He finally broke our eye contact and continued his conversation with Ace.

“What’s his story?” I asked admiring his neat side burns and thin moustache. His chin was free of hair and I liked that.

“He’s the leader of the infamous Cue Boys…” she started.

“Cue Boys? Damn, so he runs shit huh?” I asked. The fact that he was

gangster made him even more interesting to me.

“Anyhow, he runs the streets with Mont and Ace. They are deep, but don’t really call themselves a gang. They have different sets all over Georgia, not just here in Atlanta. He is Cuban and black and that nigga got more bitches than a lil’ bit,” she explained.

“Of course he goin’ have a lotta bitches. He just ain’t met the right bitch yet.”

“Don’t even think about it Yanna. He’s too much, even for you.”

I tuned her out as I watched Ace get inside the Explorer with Diablo.

“What kinda name is Ablo anyway?” I asked curiously.

“Short for Diablo. Diablo Perez.”

“Diablo Perez,” I repeated letting it roll off my tongue. I decided that night that I would concentrate on getting him. He would be mine and I would be his “main” bitch. He would get me into the game and we would build our own empire. I wanted to be the biggest queen pen that Atlanta had ever seen. That street shit was in my blood and I could feel it brewing even at the tender age of fourteen.

Diablo started the Explorer up and made an illegal U turn. It didn’t matter because they kept the cops on their payroll. He drove up slowly and stopped in front of me and Princess.

“Yo, shawty, my nigga wanna holla at you,” Ace said to me.

I walked around to the driver side and smiled the sexiest smile I could.

“What’s up?” I asked and licked my lips.

“That’s what I wanna ask you,” he said with his sexy, country accent.

I blushed and looked away. Maybe he was out of my league.

Anyway, that was how I’d met Diablo Perez nine years ago. I was determined and by the time I was eighteen, he was mine.

After that night I snuck out as much as I could just to catch a glimpse of him. He eventually found out how old I was, but still flirted openly with me. He would tell me that I was going be his when I was old enough. Over the years he made sure that I was well taken of. You could say that he kind of put me on lay-away.

When I was sixteen I dropped out of school and moved in with Shamira, Ace’s younger sister. She had her own apartment in Gladstone and taught me everything that I know about the drug game. We cooked crack, bagged it and the whole nine. We did everything except hit the streets with it. Mira was a stripper and did private parties on the weekend. She was only nineteen at the time.

Princess stayed in school, but was barely making it. Aunt Vernice blamed it on me. She wanted to keep me away from Amaya, but my sister looked up to me. She was only thirteen when I moved out.

Diablo didn’t try to have sex with me until I was seventeen about two weeks before my eighteenth birthday. Once we became official as a couple he made me leave his product alone. To prove my loyalty to him I’d do anything he asked if it meant holding his dirt, or simply lying to the police if need be. He said that he didn’t want his girl involved in the drug game. My dream of becoming a big queen pen had died. I let him know that I’d been in the drug game before I even met him. He vowed to take care of me for the rest of my life. I believed him because he had become the only family that I had other than my sister and cousin.



The Present

“C’mon Ablo. This ain’t the first time I been around that shit,” I laughed.

“I know baby, but damn. I’m s’posed to protect you from the bad shit.” He kissed me softly on the lips.

“You do,” I said, thinking about how he had been taking care of me over the years.

My cell phone rang and I glanced at the number. It was Princess, so I answered it.

“Yanna, what’s up?” She was laughing.

I could tell that she was f*cked up. “What’s up girl? I’m chillin’.”

“You with Ablo?” she asked.

“You already know.”

“Yeah, should’ve known. Well, I need you to do something for me.”

“What’s going on?” I asked sensing the desperation in her voice.

“I’m at D.’s and I need some back-up,” she said quickly.

D-Roc lived in a hood ass apartment complex in College Park. Any and everything went down out there.

“What do you need back up for?”

“You know D-Roc’s girl La La right?”

“Yeah.”

D-Roc was one of Princess’s many sex partners.

“Well, anyhow, that bitch’s outside talkin’ cash shit. I would f*ck her up myself, but she ‘bout six deep.” She sounded shook as hell.

Princess was hard to a certain extent. When it came down to it she didn’t really have the fight in her.

Don’t get the wrong impression. I may be one of those “bout it” bitches, but I didn’t look like it. The way I looked tended to give bitches the wrong impression. I was feminine and classy at 5’3, 130 lbs with caramel skin, and hazel eyes. My small waist and tight body were two of my best assets. I kept my jet black; shoulder length hair with honey blonde highlights cut in layers, and was always laced up in some fly shit. I loved to floss, courtesy of my man, but I’d change into some sweats quick and beat a bitch down.

Diablo cupped one of my C-cup breasts in his hand and sighed. “Let’s go in the back,” he said.

“Hold up baby,” I said and pushed his hand away.

“I’m sayin’ tho’, what the bitch tryin’ to do?” I asked ready for some shit to pop off. Shit, I was bored anway.

“She talkin’ ‘bout killin’ a bitch, so hurry the f*ck up,” Princess said in panic. She wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Killin’ you? That bitch don’t know who she’s f*ckin’ wit.”

“Who’s goin’ kill somebody? Huh? What’s goin’ on?” Ablo asked.

I put my hand up. “Hold up Blo.”

He looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“I don’t know Yanna, but you need to get over here,” she said and hung up.

“Baby, I need a gun,” I said sweetly.

“For what?” he asked.

“La La and her bitches are at D’s f*ckin’ wit’ Princess and I gotta go handle it.”

“Hell muf*ckin’ no. She’s the one who’s f*ckin’ everybody’s man, not you. Why’re you always fightin’ for her?” He asked.

“The same reason your ass is always runnin’ to help your so called “brothers”. She’s family. Give me a nina or sumthin.” I dialed Shamira’s number.

Shamira answered on the second ring. “Hello.”

“What’s up Mira?”

“Shit. What’s poppin’?” she asked.

“Round the girls up. We gotta hit D’s crib deep as shit.”

“Bet. Gimme fifteen. Hold up. What’s goin’ on?”

“Princess caught some heat f*ckin’ wit’ D-Roc. That bitch La La’s outside talkin’ shit. We gotta back her up,” I said.

“A’ight. You at the crib?” she asked.

“Uh huh.”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Ok,” I said and hung up.

“I ain’t goin’ give you no gun,” Diablo said looking at me like I was crazy.

“C’mon Ablo,” I whined.

“Why? So you can catch a f*ckin’ case?” He asked.

“I ain’t goin’ use it unless I have to. Shit, I gotta take something.”

“You got a blade,” he said.

“What the f*ck a blade goin’ do? Those bitches got heat.” I said in shock.

Diablo shook his head at me, said something under his breath that I couldn’t understand and then said, “You crazy as hell Yanna.” He got up and walked down the hall to the bedroom. I knew that I’d won.



* * *

Meanwhile, Princess was shitting bricks over at D’s.

“C’mon down here bitch?” La La yelled.

D-Roc’s apartment was on the second floor and La La’s voice could be heard loud and clear inside. It was nothing new for Princess to be f*cking somebody’s man. If the nigga wasn’t attached Princess wasn’t thinking about him. That was just her nature and nobody knocked her for it; except for the nigga’s bitch of course.

“F*ck you bitch! You just wait ‘till the Cue Girls get here!” Princess yelled as she leaned out of the window.

“F*ck those weak ass bitches! How ‘bout you goin’ feel the heat from my .45 bitch! How ‘bout that!” La La yelled back.

Princess knew that La La was strapped. She was the leader of a small crew of chicken head broads who called themselves The Bitch Mob. They were known for being pretty and feminine, but would fight, stab and shoot in a hot second. The Cue Girls had run-ins with them on a regular basis; usually due to Princess’s hunger for other women’s men.

“Chill shawty,” D-Roc said pulling Princess away from the window. “She got mad bitches wit’ her,” he added in a warning tone.

“Psst, whatever nigga. You think this shit’s cute, don’t you? Well, I hate to burst your muf*ckin’ bubble, but my bitches are on the way and they’re deeper than those tired ass bitches outside!” Princess yelled.

Now Princess was a bad bitch physically and she knew it. She didn’t have much going on upstairs though. Her philosophy of life was all f*cked up. Standing at about 5’5, she weighed about 145 lbs. With a honey complexion and thick, black hair that extended to the center of her back, she would mostly wear her hair in cornrows, or other styles of braids. Her breasts were the biggest things on her body and the niggas were on her D-cups hard as hell. She had a small waist, round ass and wide hips. Finish her look off with thick, sexy lips and pretty, big, green eyes. The niggas in the A loved her fine ass and she took advantage of it. P was a proud nympho and was never satisfied with one or two men. She had to have options and didn’t hesitate to let that fact be known.

“Shit,”D-Roc cursed when a rock cracked his apartment window. “You know you dangerous as f*ck girl,” he added staring at Princess. He thought La La had started shooting and shit.

Princess smiled despite her situation. D-Roc was just some good dick and she didn’t care how La La felt. Shit, as far as she was concerned La La could have him. He had paper and could eat some p-ssy. That was all she wanted.

“Ain’t nobody force you to f*ck me nigga. Shit, you wanted this,” she smiled licking her sexy lips. “You know it’s good too.”

D-Roc couldn’t help but laugh, but he was no desperate nigga. At 6’3, 200 solid lbs, his dark skin and pretty brown eyes made him irresistible. Add some good sex and some fat pockets and Princess had to have him. She knew that La La was out there tripping because old boy could work that ten inch dick and eat some p-ssy out.

“It’s better than good. As a matter of fact if you let a nigga in I’ll say f*ck La La,” he stated.

“Please D-Roc. I know you love La La.”

“F*ck love. A nigga need a bitch that’s goin’ satisfy him in every way. Shit, you satisfy the hell outta me,” he said sounding all p-ssy whipped.

Princess laughed loudly and sat on the bed. “You are really sad nigga. C’mon, you’ll give up on love for some good p-ssy?” She shook her head at him in disbelief. Niggas really did think with their dicks.

“Good p-ssy? Please, it ain’t just that. I don’t know what the f*ck it is Princess, but man,’ he sighed. “You got some shit wit’ your ass.”

The sound of Princess’s cell phone interrupted their conversation.

“Hello,” she answered.

* * *

“Yo, we ‘round the block. We goin’ get those bitches,” I said.

We walked up the block, spotted La La and ran up on her and her girls.

“What’s that shit you were talkin’ bitch?” I asked. I’d changed into some sweat pants and a t-shirt. My girls had on the same type gear. I lifted my shirt up so she could see the burner that was tucked in my pants. I had my hand on it and was about to pull it out.

La La and her girls looked stunned. “Ahh shit,” she cursed and put her hands up in surrender. They didn’t have their guns out and couldn’t get to them in time.

I looked up and saw Princess leaning out of the second floor window. “That’s right bitches!” she yelled.

“F*ck you Princess! You always gotta call Yanna!” La La locked eyes on me. “It’s all peace. This shit’s between me and your triflin’ whore of a cousin,” she said calmly.

“Mmm hmm, well I made this shit between me and you. How ‘bout you and your chicken head squad get the f*ck outta here,” I suggested with my gun in her face.

La La and her girls looked at each other and La La grinned like a gun in her face didn’t move her.

“We out,” she said knowing that running her mouth wouldn’t help anything. “But this shit ain’t over!” She yelled toward Princess. “Yanna ain’t goin’ always be around!”

Princess gave her the finger and then pulled her skirt up and mooned her. Of course she didn’t have on any underwear.

“Whatever bitch! Your man loves this ass!” Princess yelled. “That’s why you mad!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, because that was just how we rolled.