Trust No Man 3 by Cash

Author:Cash [Cash]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: United States, Urban, African American, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 9781936649211
Amazon: B0088E5DVQ
Publisher: Wahida Clark Presents Publishing
Published: 2013-12-06T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

The weekend in New York turned out to be just what I needed to get Kamora off my mind. Those up North bitches couldn’t get enough of our Dirty South swag. I dicked about eight bitches in three days and went through a whole box of Magnums.

When we got back to the ‘A’, I flipped on the switch and got right back into beast mode. I loaded up the yoppa and set out to send a message to Zeke that siccing po-po on me would not get me off his ass.

It was pitch dark outside, but I didn’t give a fuck. I drove down to Zeke’s main spot in East Point and turned it into tattered wood. A mile away was another one of his spots. I saw a nigga walking up on the porch whom I recognized as one of Zeke’s workers. I aimed the yoppa out the window and did the boy real dirty. A smoker across the street ducked behind a parked truck. I knew he could describe my whip and may have peeped my tag number, so I hopped out of the car and ran over to where he was ducked down. His eyes bulged when I got up on him.

“I ain’t seen nothing, my man,” he cried.

“Me either,” I said and sent him off into the afterlife.

I heard sirens but somehow avoided po-po. I guess if there was a God, he was watching over me. That’s what Big Ma always said. I wasn’t a religious dude, but I believed there was a power higher than me. My pop had been a Five-Percenter at the time of his death and had not believed in any GOD other than the Black man. I knew that Juanita’s fake ass had introduced him to that culture. Since it had bred a counterfeit ho like her, I could not embrace it. My only belief was that there was a heaven for a G, where no slimy muthafuckas were allowed.

I quickly got out of the area where I had just lit up the night. Not really having a destination, I decided to go by Ava’s. When I got there she had company of the female persuasion, some butch broad that looked like Ray J. “I’ll pull up on you another time,” I suggested, but Ava nipped that in the bud.

“No, you won’t. Now that you here I’m not letting you go nowhere. Hold up a minute, let me tell this she-male that she she has to bounce,” whispered Ava.

“Don’t let me interrupt y’all,” I said, plopping down on the couch and inhaling the scent of vanilla incense that wafted throughout the living room.

Ava jauntered off into the room where her little fake dude friend had just gone. I sparked a blunt and waited for the show. A minute later the butch ho stormed past me, right out the door.

“I don’t get it. Don’t she know that her strap on can’t compare to this python,” I cracked, grabbing my crotch.

“I know, right?” Ava didn’t hesitate to agree.

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