Hood Misfits Volume 3 by Brick

Author:Brick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Urban Books
Published: 2015-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Angel

I looked around the drab hotel room and gave a long, deep breath. The double beds were nothing fancy. Just regular old beds with country-like bedspreads on them. While Enzo had showered, I went to the front desk and bought some of the off-brand Febreze-like spray to take the dingy, mildewed odor out of the air. I paid the lady an extra fifty for her to give us fresh sheets. The old bitty had been so thankful for the extra cash she went into the storage room and gave me two brand new packs of sheets. They were only 180 thread count, but at least I knew no one had pissed, shitted, died, or fucked on them.

“The extensions in my hair were Brazilian, not horse hair,” I said.

Enzo looked up from his food then frowned while looking at me as if I was crazy. He shrugged. “And that is relevant why?”

“Was just saying is all since you called me ugly and was fussing about the hair in the bathroom.”

He wiped his mouth with the napkin while still watching me. “I didn’t call you ugly.”

“You did. You called me Chewbacca.”

He gave a visible smirk then went back to eating. “I called you that because your ass was shedding hair and shit all over the bathroom and shower, mama. A nigga like me don’t too much care for a bitch and her weave being all over the place. The fuck you got weave in your head for anyway with that African bush you got on ya head?”

I cut my eyes at him and subconsciously ran a finger through my puffing-up hair. “So now you have a problem with my real hair, too? You’re an asshole, Enzo.”

He gave a lopsided grin. “So I’ve been told. But, nah, mama. I gives no fucks about your hair one way or the other. Just keep the shit out my way.”

I really had a mind to toss my whole plate of food at him as he sat there and stuffed his face. But because he was my safety net and a way to keep a roof over my head and food in my mouth, I didn’t want to get too flip at the mouth. So, I stayed silent as we both watched the news. Enzo’s condo was up in flames as cops milled about. Really it was Dame’s condo. We listened intently as the news anchor spoke about a drug and gang war that was still taking place months after Damien Orlando’s death.

The woman went into detail about his twin brother being found burned to death in a warehouse in Morrow after he had been shot, mutilated, and had his head severed from his body.

“Damn,” was all I could murmur. Twin? My mind came to life. That had to have been the man I’d seen that day when I was passing the restaurant. Oh my God, I thought. Thank God I ran my ass away from that nigga he’d obviously sent after me. I paid close attention to it all.

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