Not My Babygirl

Author:Rudy Peace & Carla Dean & Ruperto Romero [Peace, Rudy & Dean, Carla & Romero, Ruperto]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Coming of Age, Urban Life, Urban
Amazon: B009JF67K4
Publisher: St.Clair Publishing House
Published: 2012-09-28T04:00:00+00:00

Honey Dee started babbling about everything she knew. She seemed happy to blow up the spot on all of Baby Girl’s bullshit.

“She stays getting high in that hallway, Saint. That trick came through three or four times checking for her. He even sent me to get her. I fuckin’ told her what it was. She just waved her hand and told me to tell him to wait. When I told him what she said, he gave me twenty dollars to cop something, and then he dated me. I made a hundred bucks in twenty minutes. And this bitch,” she jabbed a finger at Baby Girl, “was in the hallway the whole time.”

The anger returned to Saint’s voice. “Baby Girl, fuck is you doing out here, huh?”

Using that sad girl, blue thing she was so good at, she lied through her teeth.

“Nothing, Poppa, I swear.” Instantaneously, she went from innocent to the raging lioness she was before he intervened. “Fuck that bitch!”

Honey Dee shot back, “Fuck you!”

Baby Girl clenched her fists by her sides and stomped towards Honey Dee while screaming, “Fuck me? Fuck me?”

Before she could raise her hand to throw the punch, Honey Dee swung and almost caught her in the nose. Saint grabbed her arm as she threw the punch and twisted it behind her back like the police had done him so many times before. As he guided her in the opposite direction by the wrist, he yelled.

“Honey Dee, I ain’t got no time for this bullshit!” He spun on the ball of his foot to face Baby Girl, who had just realized how close she came to catching two black eyes from getting punched square in the nose. She was totally unprepared when he snatched a handful of her hair.

“Poppa!” she screamed. “What the fuck…”

He yanked her hair so hard that she felt her neck pop as she stumbled trying to keep her balance.

“Shut the fuck up!” he commanded as he caveman-dragged her. “Where’s the fucking money, bitch?”

He mushed her in the back of the head towards the brownstone. She stomped and planted one foot to regain her balance, and then pivoted around to stare him down with her best poker face.

“What dough are talking ‘bout?”

“Don’t fucking play me, bitch. You heard her.”

“Fuck what she said.”

Further aggravated by her nonchalance, he brought his face within inches of hers and whispered through gritted teeth, “Just how much money are you fucking up in them fucking hallways?”

Unmoved by his menacing posture, she continued to play stupid. “Poppa, what money you keep talking about?”

Feeling totally disrespected, he said through clenched teeth, “Come on, bitch. Get your ass up the block. Fuck this shit. I’ll fix yo’ ass.”

He turned around and quick-stepped his way back towards the brownstone. She instinctively followed at a safe distance and continued to dummy up.

“What shit, Poppa? I ain’t do nothing.”

He couldn’t see it, but he could hear the smile in her voice when she baby talked him.

“Why you acting like that?” she asked innocently.

He stopped abruptly, turned to face her, and back peddled, trying to keep his momentum.

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