Jinx: Wicked

Now

The game continues, all in a bid to get dad's empire. Oh, I sent the nice beatdown to Claudyne. Did I mention I stomped Alexis head in with my boot heels? Yeah, that was some gross shit, but my raging fit left me satisfied for taking her ex lover.

A text comes through from Freddie, the scorekeeper, as I step out the shower. Says I won this round, again. That's puts me up one round.

Team Jinx, baby! Two more rounds, and the winner gets it all. Gotta make sure I close this out big so there's no sudden death round. Wow, that's sounds corny as fuck and funny at once. Next round starts in a few weeks, and I'll be on my game.

I get a pic message from Claudyne. She's congratulating me on the win,with her taking a selfie kissing Mario's decapitated head.

Fuck two weeks. The round starts now.

Earlier

Four red lights and three dodged cop chases and I'm finally at the family warehouse. As I enter the building, someone's sitting in a chair with a bag over their face surrounded by a few of my boys. I point at one, telling him to stay put, and toss him my smartphone, motioning him to record everything. I thumb the others towards the door and they exit. I stare at the person in front of me for a bit, the rage building, then crack that asshole as hard as I can, flipping them and the chair back.

“Hit me...while I'm..tied up? Pussy...” She's tough, I'll give her that. Being involved with this family, you haveta have some kind of guts to survive our shit.

This time I kick her stomach, her painful groan satisfying me. Yes, her.

Claudyne, you went too goddamn far. Wanna kill ex's who still mean something to us? No problem. I take the hood off her face. Alexis looks at me with betrayal.

“The fuck, Jinx! I haven't said shit about you or your--”

“Claudyne killed Mario. Tortured him and cut his fuckin' head off.” Alexis' breathing picks up and her eyes bug out. “Family rule, eye for an eye.” I take my jacket off and pull my brass knuckles from my pockets. “By the way, this shit's personal.”

Earlier

Guess who arrives at my fave restaurant as I get ready to eat dinner? Claudyne, my "fave" sister. Man, she gives me her 'disgusting bitch' look, a certain look she'd give me when I'd do something gross when we were kids, and that's me masturbating on her bed. She plops down in a chair, staring at me.

“You're a dirty tramp.”

“Jealous I outshined you and mamma in that area?”

“You've a ways to go. Only one of us gets the family business. You're wearing down after 5 years of scrapping for papa's empire.” She reaches into her jacket, pulls out an envelop and tosses it by my plate. As Claudyne leaves, she shoots me with a finger gun. Childish bitch.

I open the envelop and it's a birthday card, along with several pictures.

The pictures show Mario, ex-boyfriend, current best friend and still the love of my life, getting tortured and finally decapitated. That fuckin' whore!

I flip the table, cussing and screaming as I exit the restaurant. I whip out my cellphone, making a call I'm not gonna regret.

Earlier

I haven't visited my sister Claudyne's house in a while. Her bedroom might need a quick makeover.

Her crew tries blocking the front door, they get shot up. Tried stopping me from entering her office, shotgun party. Tried throwing hands with me before I reach her bedroom, I go Mike Tyson on them.

She' s not in her bedroom. Word must've got to her about the hit failing, but I'm not through looking. Dumb bitch has to be somewhere close.

Looking back towards her bedroom door, just about the door frame, I spot a security cam. It's checking me out right now. I'll give you some shit to record, bitch.

I hop on her bed, kick my boots off, strip the jeans and thong, make myself nice and comfortable on her bed, and start masturbating. Oh yeah, Claudyne's always been a neat freak. Can't fuck a guy unless she has towels under her to catch her juice after busting a nut. Soon I'm squirting all over her nice silk sheets and wiping myself off with them. Damn that was a good fuckin' orgasm! That'll teach you to break my goddamn cereal bowl.

I put myself back together and blow a kiss to the cam as I leave. It won't be long now. She'll come find me after my stunt.

The beginning of the day

I just started breakfast when Claudyne's boys rushed through my door. Three of them with guns pointing and smelling of weed. I still eat my cereal as they approach the table. I'm a hungry bitch in the morning, what can I say? They didn't die until one dumbfuck slaps my bowl of Kix to the floor. That's when I snatch him up, stab him in his eye with my spoon, take his gun and shoot him and kill his crew. I turn the gun back on him, shoving it under his chin.

“Never mess with a bitch an' her cereal!” Two shots through the head, and he's gone.

I look around my house, my ceiling covered with blood and brains, and my broken cereal bowl on the ground. Someone's getting their ass kicked.

Little Man Cain

It was a dark and stormy night...

Little Man Cain was interrupted from his homework again with a call from Carlton to come to the bar to collect his father. Yup, dad was gone with the wind as usual. It was 11:30pm when the call came through, and the 16 year old Cain bundled himself up and stepped out into the stormy night. 

He's never been one for bad omens, but Cain felt something different about this night. Something wasn't cool. Something's fucked up.

When he got to the bar, he walked to the table his dad was slumped drunkenly in and sat down. Johnny, his dad, jerked upright. 

"Hey, son!" was his loud greeting.

"Pop."

Johnny could hear and see his disappointment. "Good to see you, too. Get your old man out of here."

Cain stands from his spot and yanks his drunken father by his arm to his feet. "This is old, you know that, right?"

"Boy, as long as I pay the bills in that house, you'll come get me whenever they call." He nudges Cain away with his elbow. "Or until the day I die." Johnny stumbles out the door with everyone staring pitifully after him. Right into the stormy night.

At the house, Johnny drops his drunk ass on the bed and struggles to take off his wet boots. It's funny to him as he tries to unlace a shoestring, only for it to knot up from the water.

"Cain, come help me with my damn boots!" Nothing. "Cain, you hear me?" Still no answer. "Boy, you hear me?!"

Cain yells from another room: "Take off your own damn boots! I'm doing my homework!"

Johnny jumps up from the bed, bumping into the door, bouncing off the hallway walls while  making his way to Cain. He finds him in his room, hunched over his desk doing homework. He approaches his son from behind and BAM!, boxes his right ear. Cain falls out his chair, holding his ear while gaining his bearings.

"Bitch, when I tell you to do something, do it! Am I gonna have to show you again who runs this house? Huh? Answer me!"

Cain rises from the floor with an uppercut to his dad's jaw, dropping him like a bad habit. "You're not putting your goddamn hands on me again!" Cain jumps on him, swinging wildly on his drunken dad, not stopping...until he looks back at his bed, to the baseball bat next to it.

Johnny boxes his ear again, dazing Cain. "Gonna teach you who's the boss, boy! You're gonna fuckin' learn!" Drunk ass, pissed off Johnny tries getting Cain in a headlock, but he's too drunk to hold onto it. Cain slips out and reaches for the bat.

Johnny chuckles. "The fuck you gonna do with that, hit me with it?" He continues laughing as he staggers to his feet, and Cain rises along with him, the bat in the ready position. "C'mon, take your shot at the title, lil boy! C'mon!" Johnny slaps the left side of his face, laughing maniacally,  daring Cain to hit him. Poor kid doesn't know if he should hit him, or beg for his life while putting the bat down. 

Seems like yesterday his dad was all hugs and kisses with him when he was younger, until his mom decided not to come home anymore from the abuse she was taking. That was 7 years ago. Since then, he's been caring for a drunken overgrown kid who takes his rage out on him and has to cover up the bruises with excuses of excessive fighting on the Southside streets. 

But not today. 

"I love you, dad." Those were Cain's last words to Johnny as he peels his skull back with the bat. One good crack left Johnny convulsing on the floor and bleeding profusely from his head. Cain kneels next to him, sobbing and cussing and unapologetic.

It takes Cain a few minutes to get his mind straight enough to call 911. From this day forward, he'll hate dark and stormy nights.

Going Down

My partner fucked up when he killed the store clerk.

It was supposed to be a simple heist: go in, flash the guns, take the money, run like hell. 

 

No dice. Leave it to my dumb ass partner with a GTA fetish to going in the store trying to show out. We went in, flashed the guns, we asked for the money…then my partner shot the clerk in the chest.

Now we're sitting in a puddle of blood gushing from his leg because I shot him. I lost my cool, what can I say? He stands like a new-born giraffe, and I want to shoot his sorry ass again. He manages to hobble around, collecting the money, and as we’re leaving, shots ring out from behind us. We forgot about someone in the back office. The other clerk wings my right shoulder and I drop my gun. My partner turns around and shoots wildly in the store, hitting nothing.

From behind the counter, I see the shot clerk on his phone, I’m guessing the police are his talk buddies. Finishing that thought, the police show up, 4 deep. Exiting the cars, guns drawn on us and making their way into the store, I know what’s gonna happen, and I’m not going back to prision, no fucking way.

I hug my partner, take his gun, and shoot him in the head. That's the cue for the law to do their thing by lighting me up with bullets. My smile, my middle finger is my “fuck you” exit to them and this shitty world.

Wow!

Yes, I'm been MIA big time, and I apologize. I went through a period of self discovery. I had to take a big step back to see if writing is what I really should be doing.

I'll be honest, when it comes to writing, I'm the BIGGEST procrastinator. When I should be writing, I'm playing video games or chillin' with my son. The former can wait, but the latter? He graduates this year and is heading for the Marines. I'm trying to spend as much time with him as I can.

To be honest, I know this is what I want, but I need to get on the grind and just write. I have LOTS of stories (as all writers do), but I don't have time. But, I've learned, if I write something down during my non-busy times, I'd have lots of stories completed. Amazing, huh? Time management works if APPLIED, and not thrown to the way side.

F'N halfbreeds. We learn too slow.

So for people who are actually reading what I write, I apologize. You want to read stories and I'm not delivering. I'll get on the ball and finish what I've started. Like you, I love reading a story that gets my mind off shit for a while. Thanks for being patient with me.

Back to writing. I have folks to entertain.

Redesign time

It's been a while since posting the last chapter of The Hard Way. Been busy looking for an editor to check my story before self-publishing.

Man, it's a process!

First, I want to redesign this spot. I threw it up just to get my story out there. I didn't care how it looked. I couldn't be more wrong. Folks are visual. They like to look at things that are pleasing, not half assed.

I threw this up half asses, and I don't want that to reflect me. I want it to look pleasing, yet simple. I'll definitely work on it in the days ahead

Back to the editing. Finding an editor can be time consuming, but I'm sure all would-be writers go through this process if their self-pubbing.

Cover, check. Guerilla marketing, working on it. Helping other writers more than myself, about 5 checks.

It's a long process, but very much worth it. It's a learning experience that I know I have to do, since this will be my bread and butter. Hey, gotta write to eat, right?

Peace.

All Money Ain't Good Money - Episode 10

Damon never wanted this life for Lamar. Watching him with a gun in hand, just saving his live, pisses him off. Deep down, he feels he failed. Both him and Elyssa, his mother.

“What's this lil mu'fucka doing? Tryin' ta prove his manhood by killin' his fam?” Duval laughs at them while shakingly standing up. Wilda is holding a nub that was her hand. She's too in shock and pain to do anything else.

Elyssa walks over to Lamar, taking the gun from his young hands. “It didn't have to come to this, Duval.”

“Didn't it?” Duval finally stands up, holding his shoulder and leaning against the wall. Battered and bruised, he still has fight left in him. “You came back without finishing the job. I'd say that's a breach of contract, miss.” Duval looks at a confused Damon. “Judging by my nephew, you didn't tell him he was the final payment."

Elyssa points the gun at Duval, who turns away. “My son missed, I won't. I told you, we're even. I did work for nine years for your ass, that's more than enough.”

“Nephew”, Duval says, still looking away. “Your boo here was supposed to kill you as final payment. All transgressions and debts paid in full. She'd get a clean slate.” Duval spits a bloody wad on the floor, then glares at Damon. “You just up and left my organization. You found out you were gonna be a daddy and you left to take care of this damn trick.” He looks at Elyssa, and like the jackal he is drops a bomb. “ I was fucking her at the same time you were. Oh yeah, she had to start paying for that loan somehow. Funny, how that lil nigga in front of you was born from your so-called dick. Ever get a paternity test?”

Damon says nothing. He looks at Elyssa, who's face is stone and glaring at Damon. Lamar's face says it all. Betrayal, shock, sadness. He pulls away from Elyssa and goes to Damon. For years, he's had some idea this could be true, that Lamar may not be his. Right now, he doesn't care. He just wants to get his son away safe and from the shit this town brings.

“You haven't said anything I haven't thought of before, Uncle. I'm leaving with my fam. Leave us the fuck alone. Come after us, I'm killing you and everyone you care for.” Damon pulls Lamar with him, then pulls Elyssa by the arm to come with him. She felt him hesitate, and she can't blame him. Too much truth has been said tonight, and if he left her behind, she wouldn't blame him. On the way out, Damon sees the bag of money that Duval told him to take earlier, and sees another bag of money next to it. A gray duffel bag.

Elyssa tries to hold Lamar's hand. At first, he hesitates, then takes it. Damon grabs the duffel bag and they're out the door. 

Finally some goddamn peace, thinks Duval. He stands up fully and feels his ribs move, and that's all right with him. It's been a long time since someone took a fight to him, and he still wants more. Especially when he hears his newly remodeled 1972 Gran Torino start up in his garage and peel out. Aches and pain prevent Duval from running to the door. It's more like a painful trot. He kicks Wilda out of his way, cussing and screaming the whole way. All he can do is watch his prized car haul ass down the driveway, then the road. He can't help but laugh.

“This round's yours, nephew.” Duval laughs despite the pain to his ribs. “Truth's out now. I still broke your family up, nigga.” Duval laughs loud and painfully. It's worth it. He knows this is his victory.

*

The ride is quiet as Damon takes Old Route 66 going west . El sits in the passenger seat looking out the window, Lamar is behind the driver seat, staring out the window. Damon's head throbs at the evening's events. So much happened in so little time. He keeps checking the rearview mirror to see if anyone is following. Nothing. Just the elks migrating on the roadsides, forcing him to drive the limit.

“I'm sorry.” El breaks the silence. “Yes, you were final payment. You were supposed to be my clear slate. Even though I sold all those drugs...”, she hesitates saying the next part as she glances back at Lamar, who's looking at her. “I killed people who he put hits on in his funky little grab at power. I did lots of things so he'd back off you and Lamar.” El tries to hold Damon's free hand, but doesn't hold back. Instead, he grabs the gun in the seat between them.

“He's mine, I know this”, Damon finally responds. El tenses, knowing it would come to this. “You knew the truth the whole time. Even if he's not mine, I love him and won't see him get hurt any more.” He looks at Lamar in the rearview mirror and grins at him. His little man, who he sacrificed so much for, and would slap the devil to protect him, smiles back. “You put us all at risk and you knew it. You couldn't come clean from the beginning and look at us now.” Damon's voice is still even, but they can hear the anger building.

“You agreed to this! Don't you even try to put all this shit on me”, she replies. “You take care of Lamar while I go repay the debt I owed Duval. When you called me to watch Lamar tonight, I did it to see him again. I love him and you. I'm the one who broke my deal! I never intended to follow through!” El looks at the gun in his hand. “My plan was to get Duval after I came home. Plain and simple. I didn't care what happened to me, as long as his ass was got. So...”, she taps the gun, “if you're mad, I can't blame you. Just make it quick.” She turns and looks out the window, not saying another word.

Damon quickly pulls over to the side of the road, avoiding the elk. He stares out the window then looks over at Elyssa, who's looking at him. His hand trembles with anger. He loves her, always has, and right now, he's not sure what to do. To kill her, or not to. Kiss her or sock her. Kick her out the car and make her walk, or just keep driving to see what happens.

“Daddy?”

Lamar's calming voice settles his dad down. “What son?”

“No more, please.”

Lamar reaches and puts a small hand on his dad's big shoulder. Damon stares at Elyssa, who's staring at Lamar. Damon puts the car in park...and yells. Lamar jumps back and covers his ears in fright, Elyssa looks at Damon and tears rolls down her cheeks. He punches the steering wheel for a few seconds, letting his anger out.

Then silence. Scary, motionless silence. 

Damon turns off the car and takes the keys from the ignition, steps out the car and goes to the trunk, popping it open. El and Lamar both turn and look at the opened trunk while Damon fusses back there for a minute. He closes the trunk, bringing something back with him; a large bag that he puts on the driver seat.

“Some things don't change”, El comments. She opens the bag and grabs 2 waters, handing one to Lamar. “Survival bag”, she tell her son. “Duval believes in having these in all his cars just in case he has to make a run for in. They have water, several changes of clothes, and snacks.” She pulls out a bag of beef jerky for him, and he starts to devour it.

Damon grabs a bottled water, pulls off his shirt and slowly pours the water on himself, rubbing the blood and grime off him. He air dries for a few minutes, breathes deep of the cool night air, then puts on a clean shirt from the bag.

Elyssa rolls down the window to breathe some fresh air, herself. As she looks up, a shooting star burns across the sky. She smiles and closes her eyes. At this point, she feels they have nothing else to lose. 

I wish we could go somewhere and start completely new. Go somewhere that's foreign to us, no one knows us, couldn't care about us. Just me and the boys. 

She looks at Damon, still standing outside, and knowing it's gonna take a long time to get things right with him again. She looks at Lamar, who's tearing up the jerky and his water. He looks up and smiles at her. She smiles back.

Damon hurries back in the car, starting the engine and peeling out.

“What's wrong? Someone coming?” she looks out the back window, but sees no headlights.

“We're going somewhere far away”, he replies with a devilish grin. “No one'll know us, definitely won't care about us. We'll blend right in, and it'll just be us.”

Elyssa looks back outside, winking at the now gone shooting star. A few miles down the road he pulls into a gas station to refuel, for them to use the bathroom, whatever needs to be done for the long drive ahead.


     Portland, Oregan 
     3 months later 

Rainy days never bothered Elyssa. After combing the southern states for Duval for years doing business, she's used to it. She prefers this over the snow, which by her guesstimate, that's what it's doing in Grande now. Her boys have gotten used to it already, especially Damon, since it was his idea to come here. Plus the coffee shops aren't bad, but she still prefers Starbucks, which is in walking distance from their house.

Their house. It still sounds weird her thinking it. But with three million dollars in drug money, you can buy anything cheap in Oregon. And with the right connections, new identities and lives. She called in several contacts from the old days, contacts she was still cool with. She paid them handsomely for new lives and they delivered. Lamar is back in school, her and Damon made investments that they live on.

Life is finally good for them. Life is safe. She could never do this back in Grande—sitting outside a coffee shop under a canopy, sipping on a straight black while enjoying the scenery. She puts her coffee down, and a pair of lips meets hers from behind. She knows the fullness, the somewhat forceful kiss of her man, and she's happy. He stops and sits next to her.

“You didn't have to stop.”

“Gotta save some sugar for later.” Damon looks around and smiles. “And ya gotta love the scenery. All of it.” He winks at her. Elyssa feels like a schoolgirl again on her first crush, topped with love. She takes his hand in hers and kisses it.

“Bet I can make you love something more.”

“Doubt it. Can't nothing make me love my babies more.”

She smiles and moves to stand in front of him. She grabs his hand again and places it on her stomach, rubbing it for him. Damon stares for a bit, mouth wide open.

“Well, say something”, Elyssa giggles.

Damon looks up at her, smiles, and says something that Elyssa can't believe she heard at first. Now it's her turn to stand still with her mouth open.

“Well, say something”, he laughs and stands up.

“I...I'm sorry. Repeat that again? You just asked me something that I've been waiting to hear since we met.”   

He rubs her belly while looking in her eyes. “Will...you...marry...me?”

“Yes” is her quick reply and she kisses him fiercely. Passerbys look and laugh, knowing what was just asked. They've seen it before. Some whistle, some congratulate.

Damon and Elyssa? They just keep kissing.

Full Moon Hunt

He walked in the bar.

She was already sitting, alone.

He approached.

She smiled.

He offered drinks.

She gladly accepted.

He commented on her honey-coated complexion, short black hair, the Japanese Cherry Blossom perfume clinging seductively from her, playing with his senses.

She liked his dark skin, scruffy chin hair, his rugged build, the gold hue in his green eyes when the bar lights hit them just right.

They talked and laughed and danced.

He stole a kiss.

 

She stole one back.

They continued to steal kisses even as they left the bar and stole kisses down the street to her hotel room.

They ripped each others clothes off and started fucking like animals. Raw and natural, fun and nasty.

She flipped him on the bottom and rode him. 

He loved it.

 

She pulled a knife from under the pillow and put it to his throat.

Now he's hating it.

“Well fuck, never expected to have my night end like this.” 

“Well sugar, it's all business. Part of the job, actually.”

 

“The job, huh? I'm guessing hunter, maybe.”

“You guess right. Nice dick, by the way.”

“You're still on it.” He grinds on her from the bottom.

She bites her bottom lips, not letting go of the knife. “I know. Feels good. Thought I'd give you a good fuck before you take a perma nap.”

“Fuck me to sleep, that's a new one” he chuckles. “How about one more round, then we'll see where it goes from there.”

She smiles, still holding the knife to his neck. The hunter starts to grind on him again.

Minutes later, they're fucking like animals, raw and natural. Thirty minutes later, the wolf flips her on bottom, thrusting and growling like the wolf he is.

The hunter throws the knife to the ground. He stops and looks curiously. She slaps the shit out of him.

“You asshole.” She kisses him and the fun continues.

*

An hour has past, and the hunter still hasn't killed the wolf. She's sliced his ass up pretty good with her knife, and he's clawed her up nicely. Both are bleeding, both are smiling.

“Ready to give up?”

“Ready to die?”

“Better have tried, baby. Pussy was good, though. If yours came in a can...?

She kicks him in the face. “Ohhh you fucken ass! My pussy's too good for a goddamn can!”

He slaps her hard. “Bitch please! That's straight up can status!”

She tackles him into the already wrecked furniture. He's laughing and having a good time while she's getting pissed. She starts wailing on his face, and he still laughs. After a minute of hitting...

“Know what?”

“Who fucking cares!”

“You should. Here's your knife.”

He stabs the knife deep in her leg, the hunter screaming in pain. He throws her off, and grabs his clothes, still laughing. He winks at her as he dresses.

“That eye is mine the next time I see you, asshole.”

“See you around, sweets.” He exits out the door, leaving her beaten and alone in miserable thoughts.

I got too into it, she sighs in her head. That bod, those moves. Fuck, I always do this.

She crawls to her bag, grabs her cellphone, makes a call, and tosses the cell on the floor. The pain's getting worse, but the others will take care of it. They always do.

Minutes later a fellow hunter arrives, but he's holding something behind him.

“Hey”, saying through clinched teeth.

“Hey yourself. Thinks this belongs to you.” He tosses the head of her wolf at her feet. She looks a the head, silently.

“Go ahead and say it.”

“Bitch you fucked up. Again. Gettin' tired of cleanin' up your shit.” He kneels down by her wounded leg, roughly extracts the knife, and placing both hands on the wound, he silently says a prayer in Spanish. The wound starts healing, but she still feels like a fuck up.

“Thank you. Owing you is becoming a habit.”

“You always know how you can repay me.” He half smiles.

She looks at him then at the bed.

She smiles.

All Money Ain't Good Money - Episode 9

Damon

 

     10 minutes ago

Elyssa, the badass Alpha Angel, stood on her own feet after the fight, pushing Jackie's dead ass body off her like so much garbage, which that bitch was. She paid the price for an attempted double-cross; her life. I patched El's leg up with a first aid kit we kept in the house and tried to make it as clean as I could. Lamar held her hand the whole time I dug a few shots out from her leg. She didn't scream.

      5 minutes ago

El and Lamar drive south with no direction as I take the motorcycle to duval's crib. I told her to drive until the gas ran out and I'd follow as soon as I could. She knew this fight was personal to me, and she knew she had to get our son as far away as she could.

I gave my boy a hug and kiss. My whole reason for living these past nine years. I'll make sure after tonight, he'll never have to go thru this bullshit again.

Elyssa? Can't help but be mad at her a bit for all of this. It's the past, but if she would've just came to me first with her troubles, opened up to me a little more, we could've handled this together. Fuck yeah my marriage to that other bitch was an attempt for me to move on, get a real life for our kid, do something. Guess I failed at that. 

     Now

I drive to the nigga's house, stomp through the front door, and know one to greet me. Now that's a huge fucken surprise. I'd have thought he'd have a bunch of his boys running interference like some movie thug. Duval's voice blaring over the intercom isn't a surprise.

“Bring yo ass to the living room, nigga. I got a fresh bag of tricks just for ya, nigga!”

Ain't gotta tell me twice.

I make my way to Duval's living room. He's waiting for me and dressed for a fight: jeans, boots, tank top, his hands wrapped. None of that's gonna help. He smiles that shitty cheshire grin, and I'm gonna enjoy knocking that shit off his face.

“What it do, nephew. Always told you a ho makes you weak. Can't make a ho a housewife, you know that rule.” He points to the couch. “El knows how to work a nigga on that couch, let me tell ya. All latinas know how to bounce those hips and ass.” He mocks me as he makes humping motions in the air, and I lose it.

I rush him like a defensive tackle, ramming him into the wall and headbutting him in the face. Blood pours out his nose and I smash an elbow to his nose. Tough bastard takes it. He turns the fight around by kneeing me in the jimmy, and it's my turn to drop.

“Family feud, just the way I like it, babyboy!” He kicks me in my side. I feel something move that pisses my body off big time. Pain shoots through my side.“Damn mutts in the fam always got on my fuckin' nerves. Didn't know if I should've said nigga, spic, peck, or trog to you lil muthafuckas!”

He kicks me some more in the same spot, making my body disagree with each kick. He yanks me up by my shirt. It hurts to stand. “Been waiting for you to come back. Knew you'd always need one more thing from me, so I took something from you.”

He socks me in the face, still hanging on to my shirt.

“I took your girl.”

He does it again.

“I took your dignity!”

And again.

“I took your wife, nigga!”

I laugh at that one.

“You can have the fat fuck.” I spit in his face and he socks me again, this time letting me go and I fall on my knees. Duval kneels beside me. It's his turn to laugh.

“Check it, nephew.” He grabs my chin and points it in the direction of the patio. Standing in the doorway is Wilda, wearing a tight black dress and tons lighter. She's posing like some porn star, but to me, she'll always be that piece of shit who didn't try. She walks to us, squats in front of me, and pokes her finger on my forehead.

“Mmm. Love a man on his knees. Don't know about the man part, far as your sorry ass is concerned.” She slaps me, and I laugh some more. That pisses her off and she slaps me again. Pushing Duval's hand from my face, she grabs me by the chin and comes face to face with me. “Sick fuck, I forgot you like the rough shit. Is it that funny, baby?”

“Not as funny as this.” I headbutt her on her nose, causing blood to explode everywhere and she falls back. I swing an elbow on Duval's chin, stunning him. I pick him up by the shirt and knee him in the nuts. Pay back.

I turn to Wilda and push her down with my shoe as she tries to get back up. Years of anger boil over as I look at her. She looks at me, the anger in my eyes making her tremble. I see Duval slowly getting up from the corner of my eye and I kick him in the side several times so he stays down. Wilda jumps on my back, screaming and cursing and slapping me on the head. I flip her over my shoulder and slam the fuck out of her on the floor. I mount her, death-gripping her throat.

“You're right. I'm a hella sick fuck! Tired of tramps like you and Duval fuckin' wit my life while I'm trying to do good!” I spit in her face and whisper in her ear: “This is how sick fucks do work.”

I unload bombs on her sorry ass for 10 seconds. Every hit draws blood and crunches and memories: of “my kid”; of me wasting my time for two and a half years on a lazy fuckless bitch; her hurtful words as she waddled out the door after Christmas.

I wipe my bloody hands on her dress before standing and turning back to Duval, who's staggered back to his feet. Nigga swings a wild haymaker and misses. My front kick doesn't, slamming him into the wall. We talk as I grip his throat.

“We're done, without question. You tried to keep me in something I didn't want a part of anymore. Just wanted some help from fam, get mine, and I'm done. This shit is your fault. Now you have beef with your Phoenix crew. They'll be blood, and I won't be around for it. Too bad. I'd like to see who's left standing.” Duval glares, is silent, and pissed off. “After today, leave me the fuck alone. My family, me, my son, Elyssa. We have this talk again, I'm bringing this whole operation down. You taught me well, and you know I'll do it.”

“That I did, nephew,” he chuckles between painful coughs. “That I did. Now get the fuck outta her before you piss me off and I forget we're blood.” Shit, from everything that's happened, I'd say we forgot. I'm walking out the door when I see a dufflebag full of cash sitting in the middle of the floor. I pick it up and toss it at his feet.

“That's yours, mutt. You earned it.” He kicks the bag back at me and lands by my feet.

“Nope. Remember that crucial lesson? All money ain't good money. Wipe your ass with it for all I care.”

He laughs at me as I walk off. A gun goes off, my left leg goes numb, and fucken wicked pain shoots through my body. Goddamit! I drop to my right leg from big time pain, turning on it to see Wilda—beaten and bloody--pointing a gun at my face. This is the last bitch I was hoping who'd end my life.

Another shot. Fingers, blood, the gun, and a very high scream fly from Wilda.

Another shot. A bullet rips through Duval's left shoulder and he hollers like a bitch.

I look slowly in the direction of the shooter, thinking it's the police and I'm fucked. It's something better. My alpha angel.

Elyssa.

But the surprise comes from me seeing who's holding the smoking gun.

Lamar.

All Money Ain't Good Money-Episode 8

Damon

“Stay back, son.” I put a hand on his shoulder, letting Lamar know to stay by me and away from what's about to happen.

“But dad, Elyssa--”

“--is handlin' business. This is something damn personal, so let it go. There's a lot riding on this.”

Lamar pushes my hand off his shoulder, and I almost forget he's my son. Almost. “She's hurt! This ain't a fair fight!” His eyes blaze with fire. He wants to get in there and help his momma, to be a part of the action. He's had enough for one night.

“Enough! She's doing this the best way she knows how. Chill and watch.”

Lamar hangs his head in defeat. He turns to watch the rumble that's about to start. He stands next to me, fists balled up by his sides.

Elyssa throws a right punch, connecting with Jackie's left eye. Her head snaps back, but comes back smiling. Jackie answers with a left front kick to the gut, doubling Elyssa over. El doesn't make a sound.

Jackie tries to follow up with with a right roundhouse kick to the head, but it's a feint. Elyssa dodges to the left, the kick throwing Jackie off balance. El throws a right roundhouse of her own to Jackie's thigh, connecting hard and making her buckle to one knee. The kick also hurts El's leg, who got shot earlier in the evening. She shakes her leg, looking at Lamar. El  throws him a wink; he cracks a smile and his grip tightens on my hand.

Jackie bounces back up and attacks El with her full kickboxing skills. Combos of punches and kicks are thrown, some connecting, some missing, some setting things up for more punishment. But for every attack, El counters with her own bombs. All that goes out the door when Elyssa connects with a big haymaker to Jackie's eye, and she counters with a left hook to El's eye. Both women pause, holding their faces.

They growl like dogs at each other, and hell breaks loose.

Finesse is exchanged for raw brawling. They grab hold of each others hair and swing, each punch lands on the others face, sounding like they're clapping hands, each punch getting harder. They scream, kick at each other, throw knees, and take each other to the ground. El's on top smashing Jackie with hammerfists, while Jackie swings and just tries to hit.

Jackie flips Elyssa on her back when she pulls her in close by the hair and bites her cheek. That's when places are exchanged, and Jackie reigns hammerfists on Elyssa. But El's more the street brawler, trapping Jackie's punching arm and thumbing her in the eye. Jackie lets go of Elyssa hair, and applies an armbar on her. It's in deep, even when Jackie tries to roll up and counter the hold by trying to grab her own hand to loosen it, El takes her right back down.

Snap, Jackie's elbow twists in the other direction. Her scream is music to my ears.

Pop, there goes Jackie's shoulder as it dislocates in a direction that it's not meant to go.

Still hanging on to her arm, El rolls Jackie to her stomach and gets her in a rear naked choke, squeezing the fuck out of Jackie's neck, fighting for air, her eyes bulging out at us.

“Gimme a name, ya fucken piece of shit whore! Who drop a name on my family?!”

Jackie's still trying to fight off Elyssa's hold, not caving in to the torture of lack of air. Elyssa eases off the hold a bit and Jackie takes a ragged breath of air. Lamar and I strain our ears in their direction, thinking she said something.

“A name, bitch. Give it up.”

“Mutha...fuck you...”

Elyssa sinks the hold in again, but this time, she scissors her legs around Jackie's waist and squeeze the living hell out of her. She's trying her best to claw Elyssa's face but keeps falling short. She's tries to hit Elyssa's shins to make her let go, and even socks her on the right leg where she was shot; El doesn't let go. She knows what's riding on this, and I know she's doing this for us, the same way I protected her years ago. This is her “thank you” to me.

Suddenly, Jackie can't take anymore. She's tapping Elyssa's leg, and she loosens up.

“Ready to talk? I can do this all fucken night...”

Jackie talks between gasps for air. “...Wilda...came...to Duval...said Damon wanted to...take over his terr...territory...told us about the...separation...and gave...us...the address...”

My stomach hardens and I wanna throw up. That no good fat fuck helped set us up and put all of us in jeopardy. Most of all, I helped do it. I didn't have to go to my uncle to help me out, but I got desperate. I saw no other choice. Joke's on me.

Elyssa squeezes her legs, making Jackie groan in pain. “Where is she? I know that two-ton bitch is still in Grande somewhere. Talk!” Elyssa squeezes her legs again, this time harder, and this time—judging the way Jackie's eyes widened—she broke a rib or two. She coughs up blood and almost chokes on it.

“She's with Duval at his crib!” shouting matter-of-factly. Satisfied, Elyssa loosens her legs, but maintains the hold.

“Time to go, baby. My turn to dish out an ass-kicking or two.”

“Fuck all ya'll!” Jackie starts laughing, either from pain, or she's about to drop her final bomb. “He's killing all ya'll. He's saving the little punk for last. Gonna make sure he watches both of you die...maybe sell his ass to some dirty old bastards who like little boys.” Lamar's trembling, burying his face in my side.

It's a good thing he did. 

The lioness in Elyssa roars back to life and clamps down on Jackie like an anaconda squeezing it's prey. Jackie makes a gurgling sound, her hands and feet quiver.

Seconds later, Elyssa twists and there goes Jackie's neck. As well as her life.