Christmas in the Hood (27 page)

As if reading his mind Supreme said, “Them walls is talkin’ to you, kid. Just sit tight, I got you. You’ll be out in a minute,” he added, exhaling the smoke.

“You right, sun, I’m buggin’. Just hurry up and get me outta this muthafucka.”

“I got you.”

“A’ight, sun. Peace.”

“A’ight. Peace,” Supreme replied, bringing their phone conversation to an end.

Victorious was just about to hang the phone up and dial the bondsman’s office again when the sound of Supreme’s voice made him pause. “You’s a stupid bitch!”

“Hello?” Victorious called out into the receiver, but his question went unanswered. The phone line had already gone dead, and all he heard now was the busy signal from the disconnection. Supreme had just called somebody a bitch, but the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question was who? Furthermore, why?

As his mind began to race with thoughts, without hesitation, Victorious rapidly began dialing Supreme’s number back with the voice of the anonymous person playing over and over in his head. Before, neither the words nor the voice were really clear to him, but as he punched the last three digits of Supreme’s cell phone number, both the identity and the familiarity of the voice instantly registered as if it had been hovering over him in midair the whole time, waiting for him to just reach out and grab hold of it.

“You must wait before placing your next call,” the recording announced.

“What the fuck?” Victorious snapped. “Un-fuckin’-believable!” Out of all the times in the world, how could the phone decide to start acting up then? It wasn’t a good look for him, Victorious decided.

“Ayo, fam,” Victorious called out to another inmate who had just gotten off the phone across from him. “Yo, that phone you was just on still working?”

“Yeah. Why? What’s up?” the inmate responded.

“I don’t know, but I just tried to make another call on this one, but it wouldn’t go through,” he told him.

“Oh, you gotta wait an hour before you can make another call,” explained the fellow prisoner.

“Word life? A whole fucking hour?” Victorious asked in disbelief, becoming agitated.

“Yeah. This is a fucked-up spot, kid.”

Victorious couldn’t agree with him more, but for him, not only was he in a fucked-up spot, he was also in a fucked-up
predicament—one that he was unable to look into, at least for another hour.

“Damn!” was all he could say.

Chapter Two

“
W
ho the fuck you calling a bitch, muthafucka?”

“Yo, what I tell you about calling me outta my fuckin’ name, Meeka?” Supreme shot back.

“What, nigga? What about me? My mother mighta called me a bitch, but she ain’t name me one, so I ain’t gonna let you disrespect me and call me out my name either,” Meeka stated, firmly standing her ground.

“So why you actin’ like one then?” Supreme spat back.

“Preme, I swear to God, you say that shit again I’ll kill us both up in this muthafucka,” Meeka screamed, jerking the steering wheel of Supreme’s quarter-to-eight Beamer, causing the car to swerve on the highway.

“Yo, what the fuck you doin’? You bugging the fuck out, shortie,” Supreme yelled, holding on to the dashboard.

“I ain’t buggin’, nigga. I’m for real. I don’t appreciate that shit, Supreme. All my life I grew up hearing that shit, and I ain’t having it no more,” Tameeka said.

“Oh, and you think I’m havin’ you playin’ fuckin’ games while I’m on the phone with my peoples?” Supreme replied, disregarding what Meeka had just said.

“Oh, that’s your peoples now, huh?” Meeka shot back with attitude. “Nigga, please. Was he your peoples when you was fucking me and I was sucking your dick? Or what about him being your peoples when you agreed to go along with this shit?” Tameeka said, throwing Supreme’s violations toward Victorious in his face.

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know what the fuck you talking about,” was Supreme’s only comeback.

“Whatever, nigga. Your peoples!” Tameeka remarked sarcastically, letting her words hang in the air.

Supreme just let Tameeka’s comments ride because now was not the time for him to get into an argument with her, especially after he had technically chosen her over his man.

Although he tried to dead it by remaining silent, Tameeka would not let it go.

“Tsk! You know what? You kill me!” She started back sucking her teeth. “You swear you this righteous-ass nigga with all this ‘my peoples’ shit, always talking about Victorious you’re A-a-like, B-a-like, and C-a-like, when the fact and truth of the matter is that you ain’t respecting that shit. You don’t really give a fuck about that ABC shit. Nigga, you ain’t no Five Percenter, you’s a Five Pretender,” Tameeka yelled, cutting Supreme deep.

“You got me fucked up, yo. I’m a
hundred
percent,” Supreme shot back, taking offense to Meeka’s statement.

“No, you got your own self fucked up, sweetheart. Get it right.”

Supreme had finally gotten fed up with Tameeka’s mouth and was determined to bring her comments to an end.

“Yo, I’m tired of ya smart-ass mouth,” he barked. “Keep talking
slick, and I’ma be the one to kill us up in this piece my muthafucking self. Every time I say something, you gots to pop shit. Say some more shit and see if I’m joking out this muthafucka or not.” Supreme stared at Tameeka stone-faced. He meant every word of it.

Tameeka knew that she had gone too far with Supreme. She knew that he was far from being a weak individual when it came to his handling his business. In fact, the only weakness she was aware of was the one he had for her. She was trying to get him to focus on their plan and not on what he had actually done to his man Victorious. There was always that possibility that if he thought about it long and hard enough that he would have a change of heart about seeing things through. She knew that if they were going to finish what they had started, then she had to smooth things out.

“Supreme, why we even going through this, boo?” she asked in an attempt to break the ice.

Supreme sat silently on the passenger side as if he hadn’t heard a word Tameeka said.

“Oh, you ain’t speaking to me now?” Tameeka asked in her most innocent voice as she reached her free hand over toward Supreme’s lap.

“Get off me,” Supreme said in a semihostile manner, affected by Tameeka’s words.

“I can’t touch you now either?” she asked provocatively. Tameeka’s words came right out of her mouth and traveled straight to Supreme’s manhood. Normally that’s all it would’ve taken for Supreme to throw in the towel, but not this time. Supreme already had an urge to choke the life out of Meeka for
the blatant disrespect she had displayed and the misconception she had of his man.

Victorious and he had a bond, which made it that much more difficult for him to go against the grain like he had. He had allowed Tameeka to get him to let his guard down, and because of that, things had reached a point of no return.

Had Victorious been home that one particular day almost two years ago when Supreme stopped by his crib to check for him, things may have been different, Supreme thought, and he probably wouldn’t be in the position he was in.

He remembered as if it were yesterday when Tameeka answered the door with only a bathrobe covering her body, partially revealing her butter pecan–toned breasts and one of her smoothly shaved slender legs. At first, Supreme had lowered his gaze at the sight of her half-nakedness because she was his man’s shortie, but Tameeka was by far one of the baddest, if not
the
baddest, women he had ever seen in his life, and he just couldn’t resist another look, especially since she had no problems showing it. As he redirected his attention to her, he could see her curvaceous physique, even through the robe.

She was indeed one of God’s gifts to men, and since he considered himself to be a living god, he reasoned that she was also a gift to him.

“Vic home?” he had managed to ask as their eyes met.

“No, he ain’t here, he just left about an hour ago. I think he went to go take care of some business,” Tameeka had told him as she looked Supreme up and down.

Supreme’s dick had stiffened as her eyes traveled down below his waist and zeroed in on what she was looking for.

Supreme was no stranger to Tameeka. She had known him just as long as she had known Victorious. She recalled the first time she had laid eyes on Supreme. Supreme had pulled up on her and Victorious on a summer day by the basketball court at Cedar-brook Park in his money green Cadillac Escalade truck sitting on chromed-out twenty-four-inch Davins.

In her mind, she had deemed him fuckable the first day Victorious introduced him as his right-hand man. She was instantly attracted to Supreme as soon as he hopped out of his SUV wearing a New Jersey Nets’ throwback, matching fitted cap, and Evisu capri jeans, not to mention the white, orange, and blue Air Force Ones that completed his hookup. To set his I’m-doin’-big-things look off, he sported a thick platinum chain with an iced-out medallion that read big preme and a matching flooded wrist piece. Supreme’s light bill was definitely paid up, Tameeka had thought, referring to how Supreme’s shines added extra lighting to the day, giving the sun a run for its money.

He stood before her that day similarly dressed, looking like a chocolate candy bar just waiting to be unwrapped.

“A’ight then, let him know I came by,” Supreme had said, wishing he had said more, but instead spinning around and stepping off before he said the wrong thing. Meeka stopped him in his tracks.

“You want to come in and wait for him?” she had asked.

Supreme had turned around, and when he did, he could have sworn that Meeka’s robe had loosened a bit. It was as if Tameeka’s robe had deliberately opened more. He knew that was a warning sign for him to decline her offer, but, instead, he disregarded his instincts and accepted it.

“A’ight, yeah, that’ll be peace.”

Tameeka had slid to the side just enough to let Supreme into the house. As Supreme proceeded through the doorway, he unconsciously brushed up against Tameeka’s body, and she had smiled. Tameeka had closed the door behind him.

“You want something to drink?”

“Yeah, you got Coronas?” he had asked.

“You know I do. I don’t know why you and Vic like them nasty shits.”

“ ’Cause they smooth, and they a nice chaser behind that Henny.”

“Vic says the same thing,” Tameeka had said, heading for the kitchen to get Supreme’s beer.

What the fuck you doin’ Preme? Just get the fuck up and leave before she comes back
, his conscience spoke to him, and with that he headed for the door.

“Supreme, where you going?” Tameeka had asked, reentering the living room.

“Yo, I gotta go,” was all Supreme had said as he continued toward the door.

Sensing something, Tameeka had walked over to him. “Here, at least take your beer with you,” she had offered as she got close to him. Supreme had taken the Corona and attempted to turn back to leave, but Tameeka had jumped in front of his path.

“You gonna leave without saying ’bye?” she had asked, wearing the sexiest expression Supreme had ever seen on a woman.

He had smiled at her comment. “See you later, Meeka,” he had replied, thinking she would move out of his way after that.

“Dag, you all in a hurry like that? You just gonna leave a sister all by her lonely?” she had asked him with a devilish grin.

“Yo, I gotta bounce. I’ll come back through again some other time and check you,” Supreme had said, not believing what he had just said.

He knew that he was in a major violation, but he was hoping that he could make it up out of there without things going any further. Hopefully his man wouldn’t find out about the incident. Supreme just wanted to put the little mishap behind him, but Tameeka was making it real hard for him to do.

“Okay, well, at least gimme a hug before you go,” Tameeka had suggested.

Against his better judgment Supreme had agreed, only because he wanted to get out of the house before Victorious happened to show up, forcing him to explain why he was there while his man wasn’t home. Supreme had extended his arms as Tameeka stepped into him. As he had wrapped his arms around her, Supreme instantly smelled the Chanel fragrance illuminating from her body. He had felt his manhood slowly rising from the intoxicating scents. Tameeka had embraced him, squeezing him tightly, pressing her breasts up against his chest and her pelvis into his dick. That was all Supreme could take. He had tried to break free of Tameeka’s hug, but she wouldn’t release him. There was no doubting that she felt good to Supreme—real good to be exact— but he knew that if he didn’t break loose of the hold now, things would lead into something that he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

“Meeka, let me go,” Supreme had said, but Tameeka didn’t comply. Instead, she had raised her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

“Don’t leave. I don’t want you to go.”

Supreme had just stared at her, bewildered. He could see in her eyes that she meant what she said. Before he could get the words out of his mouth and ask why, Tameeka had kissed him. He kissed her back passionately, as she allowed his tongue to part her lips. For a moment Supreme had gotten caught up, but, as the realization of what he was doing set in, he broke their lip-lock.

“Yo, shortie, this ain’t right,” he had said, still trying to break free of Tameeka, who had her arms around him. She wouldn’t release him. Instead, she kissed him again. This time she had managed to slide her hand into his sweatpants and grab his dick.

Supreme had felt the heat and moisture that was generated from the palm of Tameeka’s hand as he kissed her back again, and, before he knew it, once again he had been caught in the rapture. Letting his guard totally down, he began to take control of the situation, taking Tameeka’s robe off, revealing her nakedness.

Supreme had guided Tameeka’s nude body to the floor as they continued to kiss. He glanced down at Meeka spread-eagle on the living room floor, and he began to undress.
A work of art
, he thought.

Meeka had watched with lustful eyes as Supreme undressed. When she had wrapped her hand around Supreme’s manhood earlier, she could tell that he was bigger than Victorious, but actually to see it told it all. The way Supreme was hung reminded Tameeka of her ex-lover, causing her to moisten at the thought.