Hell House (19 page)

“I believe so. You're saying to hell with Jonathan and you're giving me permission to tap that ass. I also assume you won't have any regrets.”

“That's exactly what I'm saying. Thanks for reading my mind. I don't think I could've said it any better.”

Jaylin got quiet for a minute, and then he spoke up. “I'm down with it, Sylvia, but hear me out on this. Whatever happens between us inside this house will not go any further. I'm not leaving this house and adding another woman to my circle of friends. I will not make myself available for communications, and once you or I walk out that door, I do not want to see you again. No offense, but it has to be this way. Understood?”

“Understood very well. And just so you know, I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Good. Now, let's go inside to get some sleep. My body is aching too much right now to get into the groove that I would like to with you. Give me another day or two and I'll be ready to paint them walls all over.”

“I hope you will be. I'll be waiting breathlessly, in hopes that you and Roc can get along and we can pick up where we left off.”

Jaylin took my hand and we went into the house together. I slept in his bed and finally got the rest I needed.

Been a while since I got my ass kicked like that, but they don't call me a Street Soldier for nothing. I could take the pain and bounce back as if a beat-down never happened. Just like I did when a so-called friend of mine set me up to be robbed. What Jaylin had done to me didn't come close to what that fool had done, and when it came to certain niggas on the streets, take my word for it, they were ruthless.

I was at a pizza joint that day, chilling with some friends. After the chicks from school left, my partner, Cedric, said he was going to take a leak and would be right back. I waited for him, and then we walked outside to our cars. We talked for a while, and it wasn't long before he got into his car and jetted. I pulled on the door handle to open my car door, and that was when a brotha who was dark as midnight approached me. A cigarette dangled from his mouth and he asked if I had a light.

“Naw, bruh, I ain't got nothin'.”

I gazed into his sneaky eyes, knowing immediately that something wasn't right. If anything, I knew what a thief in the night looked like; I had been classified as that kind of manic before, too. I wasn't quick enough, though, and by the time I made my move for the door, a shiny blade was being pressed against my neck. He twisted my arm behind my back, causing severe pain to shoot up my arm. I was asked to empty my pockets, and he threatened to slice my throat if I didn't cooperate.

Since the blade was pinching my neck, I abided by his rules, but that wasn't enough. He took the money from my pockets and he also took the paper he'd found inside of my car. With several G's stashed in his pockets, he caught me off guard when he tore into my stomach with powerful blows that sent me staggering to my knees. I covered my face and tried to shield his numerous blows, but his punches became too much for me. All I could feel were street soldier marks being formed on my body, and after a while, my whole body felt numb from him kicking it. My face was scratched to the flesh from it hitting the ground so hard. I could barely see out of my nearly shut eye, and I seriously thought I was about to die. I laid there helpless as he stomped the shit out of me and left me for dead. If it weren't for a man who came outside of the pizza joint and threatened to call the police, I probably would have been dead. Thanks to him, I was able to crawl into my car and drive home. That was when I found out that the whole damn thing was a set up. My boy Cedric had set me up, and he had the nerve to go back to the pizza joint to retrieve the money that had been placed in the dumpster for him to get it. He didn't think I was well enough to follow him, but broken ribs or not, I followed him. As soon as he had the bag of money gripped in his hand, I blew his fucking brains out. I didn't even stay around to see his body drop, but with blood gushing from my mouth, and a deep cut along the side of my face, I had to get to Mama's house soon so she could clean me up.

Just like that fool had done, Pretty Boy, Jaylin, caught me tripping. I was high and intoxicated—slipping more like it. I should've known better, and, truthfully, I didn't think that punk had all of that in him. I was surprised that he was able to go toe-to-toe with Roc, and neither one of those fools came out as real winners. The real winner was me because I was alive.

It was strange, though, that everybody thought I was this no-good fool, looking for trouble. I wasn't. I used to gank people for
their shit, but I stopped doing that kind of mess. I almost lost my life, again, when these fools shot up my car. My son and his mother were in the car with me that day and it ended up being a tragedy. Along with that, my partner, Romeo, was doing years in the pen for burglary and attempted murder. And when they sentenced him that day, it was my wakeup call.

With Jaylin, I did want to see how much cash he had on him, but I was also trying to see what I could find out about him. A rich nigga like that sparked my curiosity. I saw his safe and was curious to see what was in there. If anything, I wanted to see how I could be down. I think he was swoll about the letter more than anything. I guess it meant something to him, and I shouldn't have thrown it away. His daughter had written him a little something special, too, and I was sure he was disappointed to find the letter in the trash. The only reason I had thrown it away was because I had spilt some juice on it. I didn't want him to know I had read it, but what the hell? It was a done deal now. All I could do was holla at the man about my fuck ups, and I had no problem owning up to my shit. If Jaylin refused to listen, too bad. Time to move on.

We had all slept late, and I was in the bathroom getting it in. I didn't know where everybody else was, but Roc was in the kitchen cooking since he was on the schedule to do it. I could also smell something burning, so I suspected everybody would be gaming for Jada to return to the kitchen and cook us something good to eat.

After handling my business in the bathroom, I opened the door to leave. Jada was at the door with a wide smile on her face. “Did anybody ever tell you that you look like Trey Songz?” she said to me.

What she said came as no surprise to me. “Yep. However, I'd like to think that I got more swag than he do.”

“Oh, trust me when I say you do, boo. You really and truly do.
Keep up the good work 'cause havin' those kinds of looks may be beneficiary to you.”

Now, I wasn't proclaiming to be no teacher, professor or anything like that, nor did I have a high school diploma. But I hated a dumb bitch. Didn't Jada know that the word she was grasping for was beneficial? I didn't dare correct her; her mouth was slick and I'd have to beat that ass for saying the wrong thing. My goal was to get along with everybody, so I winked at Jada and walked away to go find out where Jaylin was.

Jada went into the bathroom and closed the door. I heard her say, “Damn, it stinks in here! Smells like somebody done died, and what done crawled out of yo ass, boy!”

I cracked up, blaming her for making those enchiladas and grilled chicken last night. Didn't she know that what goes in must come out? Mexican food wasn't nothing to play with, especially when it was cooked up and served by a black woman. As usual, she had thrown down.

I saw Roc standing shirtless in the kitchen putting bread in the toaster. By the look on his face, he still looked heated about yesterday, so I was reluctant to ask if he'd seen Jaylin. I went for it.

“Have you seen Pretty Boy around here? I wanted to find him so I could make peace with him about messin' with his stuff. Wanted to get at you, too, for puttin' yourself in the middle. I appreciate it, but understand that I didn't want nothin' to go down like it did. My bad, all right?”

“No, it ain't all right. And if both of you niggas were in the streets, on my turf, you'd be dead right now. Good luck with your search.”

I said nothing else to bitter brother; he obviously needed more time to cool off. I hated a fool to talk mess about what they would do, if this or that, and my whole thing was if you were going to
do something, then do it. Threatening people made me get tight, and Roc didn't want me to lose complete respect for him. I already didn't have much, so he had better watch what he said to me from here on out.

I figured I would find Jaylin exercising in the workout area and that was where he was. I mean, this dude worked out faithfully. He said he played a lot of golf and basketball too, but I didn't know how to play golf to save my soul. I did know how to pump iron, though, so I sat on a weight bench far away from him, in case he wanted to get at me again. He was doing some sit-ups, ignoring me.

“Do you know where the remote is so I can turn up the TV?” I asked him.

He didn't respond. Kept doing his sit-ups and grunted louder. I sat back to lift some weights, but when I looked up, I saw him standing over me.

“You got some issues,” he said. “Fix them, before they get you severely hurt.”

I placed the weights back on the bar and sat up. Lowered my head some and placed my elbows on my knees. “Truthfully,” I said. “We all got issues, but I was wrong for goin' through yo things. I know you don't believe me, but all I was doin' was tryin' to check you out. You look like you're in a position where I'm tryin' to be. Wanted to see what was up with you 'cause I wasn't gon' ask.”

“If you don't ask, then how else will you know? That's the problem with y'all young people today. Think y'all know it all and always trying to get away with slick shit. Too afraid to talk to somebody about what you're dealing with, especially people who are in a position to help you. It doesn't matter if I believe you or not, but I work hard for my shit, Prince. Real hard, and I ain't
never stole nothing from nobody or took shit from the next man to get to where I am today. Yeah, I inherited some money, but that money only went so far. I've had to work my ass off, and I'll be damned if I let any fucking body take from me. When you take from me, you take from my family, especially my kids. I take that shit personal, so that's why you got the ass-kicking that you got yesterday. Next time, think before you act. Because if you don't, you'll be dead before you know it.”

I shrugged. “What you're sayin' to me, I've heard before. It's nothin' new.”

“Then let that shit sink in,” Jaylin said, raising his voice. “Of course you've heard it before, but stop thinking that life is a fucking game and you can play it how you wish. You can't, and your parents should've taught you that taking from the next man has severe consequences. I guess all that talk about you being a businessman was a lie. I thought you had your head on straight, but I see that I was wrong.”

“Don't bring my parents into this. Neither of them exists and they haven't for a long time. My father ain't shit and I don't have nothin' but hate in me for that nigga.”

Jaylin held out his hands. “So, what you want me to do? Feel sorry for you? Negro, please. My mother died when I was nine and my father jetted the day of her funeral. I lived in an orphanage, and when I did get out, I was physically and mentally abused by my aunt and her boyfriend. I could tell you stories that would make you sick to your stomach, but all that shit don't matter no more. Deal with it and stop blaming others for why you out here acting a goddamn fool. A real man can be whatever he wants to be in life, and no bullshit from his past will stop him from making his dreams a reality. Start dreaming, muthafucka. If you really want to be a Street Soldier, step up your life. Take it to the next
level; that way you don't have to resent men like me who figured out a way to the top. See you when you get there, if you got the balls to make it.”

I got defensive because I didn't like his tone, nor did I appreciate what he was spilling to me. “Fool, I'm already at the top, thank you very much. And bein' a real man ain't all about havin' a lot of money. Get out of here with that shit.”

“You damn right it ain't about money, but tell me this. How many kids do you have? Where are they right now?”

I cleared my clogged throat. Hadn't seen my son in a while and one other chick had recently confirmed that she had a daughter by me. I wasn't sure if I believed her or not. So many chicks were running around claiming that they had kids by me when, in reality, those kids belonged to someone else. “I got some kids. They with their mamas because I'm here.”

“Yeah, I bet. You ain't at the top, fool. You're at the bottom of the barrel with the rest of those low-life assholes offering these young women out here nothing but a sick dick. You can't give nobody shit but sperm that does not pay bills. Then, you gripe about your father not being there for you, yet you abandon your own kids and put them in a position to turn out exactly like you. Man, wake the fuck up! Get your shit together and recognize the reality of your situation before it's too late.”