Candy Licker (27 page)

The last two singles on our album were due to be released in a few weeks so we were still performing together and stuff, but always under Hurricane's eye. Now that he had me going solo he played me extra sticky, putting words in my mouth during
interviews and tapings and keeping me up under him so he could control my every move.

Dominica was getting fed up with the industry and all the backstabbing, throat-cutting bullshit that went along with it, and she decided to go back to school once our last single was released. “Maybe you should think about doing something with computers, Candy,” she told me one rainy afternoon as we rehearsed for a show at the MCI Center in D.C. “This music shit ain't everything, you know, and with that sheisty-ass contract Cane gave us we might never see no real money. Hell, with a nut like him flipping out every other day your solo album ain't guaranteed anyway.”

Dominica just didn't know. I was chained to Hurricane. His name might as well have been branded on my ass just like it was on my back. I had never told her or Vonnie about getting thrown into that trunk by Nicky's men or how Hurricane had paid off Mama's debt and kept those Italians from killing me. No, straight from that ass-kicking in L.A., Hurricane had whisked me right into his mansion and set me up in the middle, and I'd been so beat down and hurt with grief that when he said I needed to keep my mouth closed and forget that whole kidnapping drama, that's just what I did.

“I don't know, Dom,” I told her. “I think I'ma have to go 'head and ride this one out.”

It was cool that Dominica had a plan B, but Vonnie's shit was wide open. I was starting to worry about her. I was scared she was becoming an industry ho. All of us had been desperate to get in the door, and now that Vonnie had gotten a lick of what fame was like she wanted to cram the whole thing down her throat. I knew she would have given anything to be with
Hurricane. Plus, she was too bent on that niggah Quadir, with his no-good ass. Yeah, he was live on the mic coming out of Cabrini Green projects in Chicago and all, and he'd been around on the rap scene performing in underground clubs and on bootleg CDs for a long time and got a lot of respect from the up-and-coming rappers. And yep, I'd even admit that he wrote some mad lyrics and had good control of the stage, and they say he used to roll with Tupac real heavy before Pac blew up and got all famous. But for Vonnie to let him cause all this drama between her and Caramel and have it mess up the love she used to have for me? I just didn't get that. I could understand how Vonnie wouldn't wanna give up the bling or get off the stage, but damn. She was stuck on grabbing hold of a rich baller like that was her ticket out of the ghetto for life.

Case in point. Two nights later I was sitting in my usual spot in Hurricane's booth. Mad niggahs was crammed in swinging on his dick, just the way Hurricane liked them. Quadir was sitting on my left holding Predator on his leash when Vonnie walked up.

“Hey, Cane,” she said, slinging her devastating hips and wearing a Donna Karan jean skirt to death. She had on a sleeveless white belly shirt and her nipples were poking through like pencil erasers. “We still gonna talk about that contract tonight, right?”

I glanced at Hurricane and saw his nostrils jump. He had been evil all day because fate had cheated him out of his satisfaction. Every now and then some young head in the projects got swole and thought he could do a better job of running Harlem than Hurricane was doing. This kid named Sharif had called himself organizing a cell to stick up Tonk's warehouse,
and when Hurricane got wind of it he told his boys to take Sharif out, but first he wanted them to fuck him up so bad he would be an example for every other thug who thought his line was weak.

But fate had gotten the jump on Sharif before Cane's boys could get to him. The fool was crossing 125th Street and got hit by a car and killed, and Hurricane was so mad that him and his boys rolled up at Sharif's wake, dumped his body out of his casket, and shot his dead ass up right there in front of his whole family.

I had overheard Snake and Das saying that Hurricane was so damn mad that even after they shot up the body he was stomping and kicking Sharif's frozen ass all over that funeral home and they had to pull his crazy behind out of there before the cops came. And now Vonnie was begging for another contract after he had already told her she couldn't sing for shit.

“Sexy Vonzelle,” he said, eyeing her firm body. “You want another record deal, huh?” He leaned across me and whispered something to Quadir, who laughed, then stood up and wrapped the dog's leash tight around his hand. “All right,” Hurricane said. “I'll think about giving you one. But gone in the lounge and take care of Predator first, then we'll see what we can do.”

Them niggahs bust out laughing as Vonnie followed Quadir and Predator into one of the empty lounges. I thought he had misspoke and meant for Vonnie to take care of Quadir, but then Hurricane started laughing the loudest. “Shit,” he said, and took a sip of his drink. “Predator my dawg. He likes pussy too.”

I couldn't believe it when Quadir came back with the dog about fifteen minutes later. I was looking around to see where
Vonnie was when Quadir slid in and sat beside me laughing. “That's one wild bitch, man,” he told Hurricane, shaking his head. “Predator's 'bout wore out. Doggie-style is her favorite position.” Niggahs roared.

“That's fucked up!” I yelled, and jumped to my feet ready to go looking for my girl. Hurricane grabbed my arm and dug his fingers in. “What's fucked up, Candy? What? You going somewhere?”

I looked down at his big hand on my arm and remembered what kind of fool I was dealing with. The blisters on my back had almost stopped oozing and I was still trying to keep the burnt skin from sticking to my clothes. I hurried up and corrected myself real quick. “Nothing, Cane. I just gotta use the bathroom real bad.”

He nodded, flaring his nose and drilling me with his eyes. “Oh yeah? You gotta pee? Cool.” He tapped Quadir and motioned for him to pass me the dog's leash. “Take Predator in the bathroom with you. And while you in there, find a clean cloth and wipe off his dick.”

H
urricane drank all damn night, and by the time we got back to Long Island he was mean and juiced out. All during the drive he kept eyeing me with hard looks, but I kept my eyes toward the window and sat there cursing him out in my head. He was leaving the next day for Miami to accept a
Source
Award for Producer of the Year, and I was glad he'd be gone for a few days because I needed a break. When we got back to the mansion I jumped out of the whip before he could open his door and went straight to the middle of the house without stopping.
I was in the bathroom peeing when the lock exploded and King Kong kicked the door straight in.

“What was so fucked up about tonight, Candy?” He was standing there wobbling on his feet, and I coulda sworn his left eye was trying to swing down toward the floor the same way Jadeahs did.

“Huh?” I said, drawing a blank.

“Bitch, don't sit there shitting and looking stupid. Tell me what you said was so fucked up tonight about your friend and my dog.”

I saw what was coming and I'd barely managed to jump up and pull my pants up before he was all over me. I tucked my chin to my chest and balled up, covering my head with my hands.

“What was so fucked up, Candy?” he screamed, his muscles flexing as he threw powerful uppercuts and deadly blows. For a drunk man he was pretty good at beating my ass and talking shit at the same time. I rolled over and kept my head low, giving him my arm and the side of my leg as a target.

He snatched a towel bar clean off the wall and started swinging it. “What's fucked up?” he raged, cracking me anywhere he could get me. “
This
is fucked up! No,
this
is fucked up! Nah, this is how you
get
fucked up! This is how
I fuck
your ass up!”

I crawled all up under the sink trying to get away from him. He dragged me out by my hair and I slid and spun around and around on my butt like a top. “You talk a lot of shit for a dead bitch,” Cane growled. He grabbed the toilet bowl plunger and mushed that nasty thing down over my face. I slapped it away and kicked up at him with both feet, my heels striking his hard stomach and the metal buckle on his belt.

Before I knew it that muscled-up maniac was beating the hell out of me with that toilet bowl plunger. He swung that baby like it was a short bat, and only when my screams became unbearable and he got sweating tired did he snatch my pants down and jig me with it. And then all I could do was scream even louder.

The next morning I felt like I'd been in a car accident.

I looked like it too. My uterus hurt and there was almost no place on my body that wasn't purple and blue. Even the Gabri-ano boys hadn't kicked my ass this bad, and if I didn't know how crazy Hurricane was before, I sure knew now.

Hurricane had an early flight and he made me get my sore ass out the bed and ride with Quadir to take him to the airport. Afterward Quadir dropped me off at the House, and as I sat in the front office waiting for Jadeah to show up I broke down and cried.

This wasn't how I was supposed to be living. Where was my musical star? I was young and fine and had talent. Wasn't no man supposed to be abusing me like this and making me miserable every day. I missed Mama and all the fun me and Caramel used to have with her. I missed hanging out with my friends. I missed chilling in my own place and being my own person. I missed Knowledge and wondered if he was really coming back. I even missed Nicky Gabriano and the way he used to give me advice, like he cared about me.

True, if I was still out there muling my face would probably be on a mugshot instead of on the cover of a hot CD. My voice would not be all over the radio or my face all up in magazines. Mama would still be alive, and Caramel wouldn't be walking around doing all the crazy shit she was doing. But Hurricane
had gotten ahold of my young ass, and now there were so many strings binding me to him that I just couldn't break free.

When Jadeah stepped in the office and saw my face she was hot. She took one look at my swollen nose, busted lip, and black eye and went the fuck off.

“That motherfucker!” she fumed. “I can't believe he did you like this!” She took her glasses off to get a better look at me. I looked back at her surprised. This was the first time she'd ever said anything against her brother. Tears was even in her eyes.

“Girl he busted your ass. I'm just sorry, Candy. Sorry because I know you a cool person and sorry because he's my brother. Junius is starting to act just like our nasty-ass father. That motherfucker had hand problems too. He got life for killing his woman, and Junius swore to God he would never hit a female.”

I started crying again. “Well he fuckin lied.”

Jadeah went into the kitchen area and came out with a bottle of frozen water. She wrapped it in a paper towel and helped me press it lightly to my lip.

“I know you probably don't like me, Candy, because I'm always down for my brother.”

I didn't say nothing 'cause she was right. She excused the crazy things he did when there was no excuse for them.

“But he wasn't always like this, Candy. The Ju I used to know was a good kid. He used to look out for me and my mother. Ju told my father that if he ever touched me or put his hands on our mother again, he would beat his ass into the ground. And as young as he was, he did it. He beat the shit out of Pug and put a gun to that niggah's head, and only my mother's tears
stopped him from pulling that trigger. My father left after that. He had been sneaking around with this other female that he ended up killing. But as much as Ju hated Daddy, he spoke up for him at his trial. I never did understand that shit, but I let it go. Ju was good to me and my mother. He took care of us.”

“Well what the hell changed him then?”

She frowned and shook her head. “I think it was his operation.”

“What?”

“His operation. He had it when he was fifteen. The doctor said he had to get circumcised, but I think they fucked it up and it did something to his manhood.”

If my lip wasn't so swollen that shit would have been on the floor.

That niggah was an amputee! He had got his dick chopped off!

“A bunch of other people had had the same shit happen to their sons at that same hospital. They petitioned to get circumcisions banned in the whole state and even tried to get my mother to join a class-action suit and sue the hospital, but Mama said for what? The damage was already done and my brother had already changed,” Jadeah said, sitting down with a frown. “He got real mean and just didn't care no more. He dropped all his little honeys and started lifting weights and bulking up. You would've thought he was training for the Olympics or something. The only thing Ju was into was getting his body up. And then he found music.”

I listened to Jadeah talk about Hurricane and part of me understood. Just like I was down for Caramel, she was down
for her brother too. That fucked-up circumcision explained a whole lot of things about Hurricane, but it didn't mean I had to stop living my life and dreaming my dreams just because somebody had slipped and cut off almost all his dick! That wasn't my fault!