Girls from da Hood 11

Book 11: Girls from da Hood

by Nikki Turner, Katt, Teeny

Genres: African American Urban; African American Women's Fiction; Anthologies

Synopsis

Urban Books' popular Girls from da Hood series continues its gritty street drama in this 11th installment, featuring urban fiction superstar Nikki Turner, and newcomer Katt. Tia, Ton'ya, and Tammi are not only making moves in the game, but they're doing it in the bedroom too - and anywhere they need to get what they want. Tia is quick with her razor-sharp mouth, and she carries an equally sharp razor to slice a throat if need be. Ton'ya is loyal to a fault but will fight back if threatened. Tammi is the brains of the operation. They have collected more bodies than a Manhattan hooker working the lower East Side. What happens when the heart gets in the way of making money? Best friends Pedro and Rico met Shane at a concert in Brooklyn, and they soon became fast friends, making money and moving major weight to solidify their place in the game. Pedro is the pretty boy who thinks his dick can get him anywhere and anyone. Rico, the strategist, believes that he is the smartest man in any room. Shane, the outspoken one, is the deal maker and breaker. They have but one goal: to become the best in the game. All hell breaks loose when brains, brawn, and dick collide with tantalizing titties and tongue. What will happen when everyone wants what they want and it interferes with their crew's best interests?

Release date: August 30, 2016

Publisher: Urban Audiobooks

Print pages: 288

Sample

Rose M. Singer Center, Riker’s Island, NY.

Kima’s heart hammered as she looked in the rearview mirror and noticed the flashing red and blue lights getting closer and closer. When she heard the sirens, she just knew she would die of a heart attack. Kima knew the whooping sound meant she needed to pull the car over. She knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. She drove just like she had been told to do. She signaled with every lane change. This wasn’t good; she hadn’t even made it out of New York yet. There would be hell to pay. Kima felt vomit creeping up her throat. She took a deep breath and thought about the instructions she had been given. A tall white cop approached the car from the left and one stood off to the right.

“Get out of the car, ma’am. You’re under arrest,” the cop said immediately.

“What did I do wrong?” Kima asked as the cop yanked the door open and pulled her out of the car. “I’m pregnant!” she cried. But it was too late. She had hit the ground. Luckily she landed on her knees and not her stomach. “Help!” she screamed.

Kima jumped, her body shuddering, as she was jolted by the nightmare. The loud sound of clanging metal had startled her out of her sleep, out of reliving the ordeal she had endured. She had been dreaming about her last day on the street. The first thing she felt when she opened her eyes was a sharp kick under her rib cage from her unborn baby. There were more clanging sounds and the lights over her head seemed brighter than they were the night before.

“Meal time! Let’s rock and roll, ladies!” the fat female correctional officer screamed out as she passed Kima’s cell.

Kima closed her eyes tightly and prayed that she was dreaming. When she opened them again, she realized it was real. She was definitely locked up. The smell of disinfectant from the little silver sink and toilet combo seemed to be more noticeable to her nostrils than before. Kima sat up even though her head was spinning. Then, another kick from the baby almost made her scream out. There was no denying it now, she wasn’t dreaming at all. The pain in her back from the hard metal bed with the thin, worthless mattress told her it was very real. Kima put her face in her hands and started crying. Her almost thirty-five-week pregnant belly prevented her from leaning all the way over like people usually did when they cried from feeling sorry for themselves. The reality was that Kima was an inmate on Riker’s Island. Not just any inmate either, but a pregnant inmate that was facing a lot of time.

“McCallister! Time to lock out! You’re on the prenatal and court list for today! So get ya breakfast and let’s go!” the same short, fat, female C.O. yelled at Kima through her cell bars.

Kima looked up from her wet hands and sucked her teeth. The hunger pangs and the hungry and angry kicks from her baby were the only things that motivated her into action. Kima did as she was told. Another kick from the baby sent a sharp stabbing pain to her heart. She rubbed her belly, trying to soothe her baby. Maybe the baby can sense that shit is not right, she thought to herself. This was not what Kima had planned for her own life. It was history repeating itself again. Kima too had been born in jail. She didn’t have many memories of her mother, but her grandmother never let her forget that she had been born while her mother was locked up after being charged with accessory to murder. Kima had spent the first nine months of life as an inmate, and then she was separated from her mother and handed over to her grandmother. That is how the system worked with pregnant inmates. Kima thought it was almost better for the system to take the babies at birth, at least then, they could bond with whoever took them. That was the thought that had kept Kima up almost the entire night. She wondered how fucked up she would feel not only giving birth in jail, but to have the system take the baby away after she and the baby formed a bond. Kima wasn’t sure what would happen to her baby. A boy she had planned to name Kori, after his father. She didn’t deal with anyone in her family anymore except for the occasional hi and bye with one of her cousins. Kima hadn’t heard from her so-called boyfriend, Kori, since she had gotten locked up. This wasn’t how things were supposed to work out. Kori had promised her so many things, one of which was to always be there for her if anything ever happened. She had done so much and given up even more to be a rider for him. Kima was done being hurt over Kori’s apparent abandonment, she was downright angry now. She was sure that Kori had probably figured out that she had gotten knocked. If he had answered his phone when she was given her phone call, he would have known exactly what happened to her. Kima couldn’t even leave him a voice mail message because his mailbox was full. She was so mad she had even pondered whether she should cooperate with the police against Kori and get herself out of this mess that he had gotten her into. The day she got arrested, the police had badgered her for over ten hours trying to get her to flip on Kori. Kima wasn’t having it. She had endured the verbal abuse from the cops, who had called her a piece of shit and worthless mother. No matter what they said to her, Kima held her ground. She wasn’t snitching, especially not on the man she loved. Now, Kima was depending on Kori to get her out of this mess.

Kima washed her face and brushed her teeth inside her cell at the little sink, but she had to go to the communal shower to bathe, which she hated. Kima gathered the horrible smelling soap, shampoo, and lotion she had been given at intake and headed to the showers. She looked down at herself and just wished he could change her damn clothes. The pregnant inmates got to wear their own clothes, so Kima had the same outfit on that she had gotten arrested in four days earlier. Getting arrested on a Friday was the worst because she had had to wait the entire weekend for the chance to finally see a judge. All of her calls to Kori had been unsuccessful. As far as Kima knew, Kori had not even bothered to send someone down there to check up on her. For all Kori knew, Kima could’ve be being charged with all sorts of crimes and facing serious time.

Kima entered the shower stall, and there were three other pregnant women inside already. They obviously knew each other because they were talking and laughing. Kima couldn’t figure out what could be so funny when they were in jail and pregnant. Didn’t they know they would be giving their children the worst start in life, having them be born as inmates? She shook her head in disgust. Kima wasn’t trying to make friends, so she had made up her mind she wasn’t going to speak to them or join in their girlish banter. She didn’t plan to be locked up that long. In Kima’s mind, whether Kori bailed her out or she snitched to get herself out, she wasn’t trying to have her baby behind bars.

When the women noticed that Kima had come into the shower room, they stopped talking and eyed her up and down. “That’s her,” one of the women whispered, turning from Kima back to her little group of friends. Kima heard her, but she ignored the woman’s rude ass. Kima knew they knew who she was. Everybody in New York probably knew of her now, especially since her arrest had made the headlines in the New York Daily News. It had read PREGNANT WOMAN BUBBED DRUG QUEENPIN. Kima knew that was all bullshit. She was far from any drug queenpin. She was simply a chick that had gotten caught up and wouldn’t roll on her man—a ride or die bitch. Kima didn’t know if was worth it all now though.

The women continued to snicker and whisper about her as Kima took off her clothes and got into the shower. Fuck them bitches. Kima was thinking those chicks were all probably locked up for boosting or some other dumb hustle just to pay their rent and buy sneakers and clothes. She considered herself different. This incident was a fluke. A onetime thing that just went wrong. Kima had been living in a lavish brownstone in Bed-Stuy with her man before all of this bad luck happened. She had been able to rock the finest clothes and jewelry too. Yes, Kima considered herself different from the bitches she was locked up with, in her mind, she was above them. Although right then, just like them, she was behind bars with nothing and no one.

The giggling tramps finally left the shower area, leaving Kima relieved to be alone. She got finished and prepared to go back to her cell so she could attend her jailhouse prenatal visit and hopefully see her lawyer before she was dragged to court. Kima was waiting to go to court to be arraigned, something she wasn’t looking forward to. The thought made her anxious, as she knew that was where she would find out just what the district attorney planned to charge her with. Kima was sure they were going to throw the book at her given what they had found on her. She could only hope that she would hear from Kori soon and he would replace her public defender with his own defense attorney, the one that had helped him beat two cases since Kima had been with him.

Kima dried her body and then wrapped her towel around her long, dark brown hair, and slipped back into her clothes. There were no mirrors and Kima was glad. She was sure that she probably looked tired in the face and her hair was certainly not the usual perfectly coiffed locks she was used to wearing. Her clothes felt grimy against her skin, but she had no choice but to wear them for yet another day. Just as she prepared to leave the showers, three women were walking in fast. It wasn’t the same ones that had been in there earlier whispering about her. Kima got a good look at all of their faces this time. She rolled her eyes and stopped to let them go past her before she tried to walk out. Kima just let them come in to avoid any problems. She wasn’t trying to bump anyone and get into any altercations. The safety and health of her baby meant more to her than that. Besides, she counted herself as lucky after the dust up with the police had almost caused harm to her unborn baby. All of the women were pregnant and none of them could afford to get into any bullshit or so Kima thought. The women had other plans. One of them, a tall, dark-skinned, skinny girl with old, ratty braids who looked like she had swallowed a basketball stopped in front of Kima. Here the fuck we go, Kima thought to herself as she stood holding her ground.

“Yo! Your name Kima, right?” the tall chick asked looking down her nose at Kima.

She was so skinny everywhere else on her body that her pregnant belly looked fake protruding grotesquely from her skeletal frame. The other two women, one that didn’t look pregnant at all because she was so fat and one that was obviously not as pregnant as the tall one, were standing with the tall woman moving in closer and glaring at Kima.

Kima crinkled her face into a scowl. “Yeah, I’m Kima. Who wants to know?” she snapped, dropping her stuff and balling up her fists. Her street smarts told her to be ready for anything.

“I got a message for you from Kori,” the dark-skinned chick said calmly.

Kima felt a sense of relief wash over her and her heart started to pump with excitement. She softened her face and unfurled her fists, letting her guard down when she heard her man’s name. She immediately thought the girl would tell her that Kori said things would be okay, not to worry that he was going to bail her out or something good like that.

“What did he—” Kima started.

Bam!

“Ahh!,” Kima stumbled backward as she was caught off guard by a punch landing directly in the center of her face. The bridge of her nose cracked and immediately began throbbing. “Oww!” she wailed. Her nose sprayed blood all over the front of her shirt.

Whap!

“Ahhh!” she screamed again, holding her face as the blood leaked through her fingers. “You bitch!” Kima screamed, gurgling blood. Her screams were short lived.

Crack!

Another close-fisted blow to the top of her head made Kima see stars. She felt herself being dragged down by her long hair. Kima’s defenses were up, but she had no wins over the three females who were now on her like a pride of lionesses on a small animal. Kima’s belly was big, which made her off balance. She was concentrating on protecting her baby now. She knew she didn’t have any chance to win a fight with the three women. Kima fell to the floor and immediately curled up into a fetal position so she could protect her unborn son. Kicks, slaps, and punches rained down on her like a hailstorm. The three women were hitting and kicking her without mercy. She was bleeding from the side of her head now too. Kima kept her legs curled in and her arms over her belly in an attempt to keep them from hitting her in the stomach.

“That nigga said if you snitch, next time he gonna pay us to kill your ass!” the ringleader of the pregnant assailants spat.

“Yeah, and he said to tell you that that fuckin’ bastard baby you carrying ain’t his fuckin’ baby either!” the fat chick snarled. With that, she lifted her foot and kicked Kima with all her might, right in her stomach. The pain rocked through Kima’s abdomen like a volcano erupting.

“Agh!” she let out a bloodcurdling scream that felt like fire searing the back of her throat.

She immediately felt something warm leaking from between her legs and then her world went black from the shock.

Kima’s eyes fluttered open as the sound of voices around her filtered through her ears. She attempted to lift her left arm but something prevented it. Kima moved her eyes and noticed silver handcuffs glaring back at her. She looked around to see where the voices were coming from. There was a group of doctors standing at the foot of her bed. There was a C.O. posted up, sleeping in a chair near the window in the corner of her room. She looked up to her left and saw a monitor with numbers flashing. She also became aware of the oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth. Kima lifted up her free hand and saw the IV stuck in the top of her hand. The doctors were still talking, but none of them noticed that she was awake. Trembling and feeling weak, Kima slowly moved her free hand and touched her stomach. It was soft and mushy. It was also painful. Kima pushed on the flesh of her stomach again, this time with more force. She noticed her belly wasn’t hard anymore. She couldn’t feel her baby moving around like she usually did when she woke up. Kima’s entire head was banging as she tried to see herself, but she couldn’t look down because there was a bandage across her nose and the mask on top of that. Kima was thinking about her baby. Panic quickly set in and her heart started racing fast. The machine she was hooked to begin to beep loudly. One of the doctors whirled around. His eyes grew wide.

“Ms. McCallister, you’re awake,” he said, sounding a bit surprised.

“Where’s my baby?” Kima rasped, her throat dry as dust. She used her free hand to pull the oxygen mask from her face.

“We are so glad to see you awake. You suffered some pretty serious injuries, especially to your head,” another doctor continued, stepping closer to Kima’s bedside.

“Where is my son?” she raised her voice as much as she could, given her condition.

She began coughing which sent a series of hot, stabbing pains through her lower stomach. The doctors all looked at one another. Kima eyed each one of them. Her voice had stirred the C.O. from his sleep and he stood up with a look of horror on his face.

“You should rest, Ms. McCallister. Really,” a female doctor said, trying to push Kima’s shoulder back down onto her pillow.

“I want my fuckin’ son! Where is my baby?” Kima strained to scream.

The veins in her neck and at her temple were raised and pulsing against her skin. The heart monitors were screeching with rapid beeps. A piece of gauze on Kima’s head began to get soaked with blood, as it was apparent she had busted a stitch.

“Y’all gonna have to tell her. This shit ain’t good for her and I ain’t trying’ to do the paperwork on a dead inmate,” the C.O. said moving closer.

The doctors looked at each other as if they were trying to figure out who would be charged with giving Kima the information she was requesting. Kima was thrashing now and kicking her legs. Her movement caused the metal from the handcuffs to dig into her wrists, but she couldn’t even feel it. Kima didn’t even feel the pain of the C-section incision burning through her abdomen as she bucked and screamed. Finally, the petite, female doctor stepped closer to Kima’s bedside. The doctor was clearly nervous.

“Ms. McCallister, the injuries you suffered during the assault were pretty serious. The blow you took to the belly ruptured the placenta, which caused hemorrhaging inside the womb. When there is a disconnect of the placenta from the uterus, the baby can no longer get oxygen from you, which means you can no longer breathe for him. I’m so sorry, your son died in utero. When they got you here, he had already expired. We performed an emergency C-section to remove him. You were unconscious. I am so sorry for your loss,” the doctor said regretfully lowering her eyes to the floor.

Kima flopped back onto the pillow. The words took a minute to sink into her head.

“No! You bastards killed my son! No! Agh!” Kima screamed at the top of her lungs.

Her voice was cracking and rasping. Blood soaked the head gauze now. The screams hurt her throat but she couldn’t stop screaming.

“Get something to sedate her!” one of the doctors yelled to a nurse who had come busting into the room to see what was going on. The nurse turned on her heels and raced out of the room for something to get Kima under control.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Kima growled.

Her face was beet red and the heart monitors were going berserk. The doctors all looked horrified. Finally, the nurse skid back into the room and handed a syringe to one of the doctors. Kima was kicking so hard, it took all of them to hold her legs still enough to be injected. The doctor was finally able to plunge the needle into Kima’s left thigh muscle.

“Owww!”shewailed. “Fuck off me!” Those were her final words as the medicine in the needle immediately took hold of her. Kima’s body went slack, her head lulled to the side. Her hand relaxed so much the handcuffs scraped against the metal railing on the side of the bed. The doctors all looked at each other in relief.

“That was the saddest thing I’ve ever had to do,” the female doctor said to her colleagues. She swiped at a tear from her eye.

“How does a girl so young, unmarried, and pregnant get herself into so much trouble?” one of the male doctors asked out loud to no one in particular.

“I see it every day. A lot of young women are doing hard time behind the choices they made in men,” the C.O. answered as he made sure Kima was really knocked out again. He shook his head in disgust, turned and headed back to his seat next to the window. “I just often wonder what makes them stupid enough to do it,” he said, folding his arms across his chest trying to get comfortable.

One Week Earlier in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn

Kima was roused from a deep sleep by Kori’s deep voice coming from the first floor of their two-story home. She listened for a few minutes and could immediately tell he was stressed. He was cursing about something. Kima sighed. She hated when Kori was upset. He didn’t like to talk about things and he would go into a shell, which made her miserable. Keeping Kori happy was paramount on her daily to do list because if not, there was always hell to pay for everyone around them. Kima got out of the bed and stood at the doorway of their bedroom to listen. She winced as her baby moved inside of her. Then she smiled a little bit. She had just found out she was carrying a baby boy. A son was always what Kori wanted. He already had three daughters from two other chicks. Kima felt proud to be the one to finally deliver him a son. It was clear that the baby was running out of room inside of her too, the thought of her baby growing bigger also made Kima smile. But more raucous cursing coming from downstairs interrupted her nice thoughts about the baby.

“Fuck you, the bitch disappeared? Fuck you mean, you can’t find nobody to replace her?” Kori boomed. “You know how much money I’m losing while y’all niggas playing the fuck around! You tellin’ me not one old bitch up in the hood wanna make some trap?”

Kima crinkled her eyebrows and listened. This didn’t sound good at all. Anything that had to do with his money being funny would surely come with a hell to pay from Kori for everybody around him, especially her.

“This shit could cost me big paper! Find somebody by tomorrow or else niggas gonna be sorry!” Kori barked.

Kima jumped as she heard a loud crash. He had thrown his pre-paid cell phone against a wall. Kima couldn’t decide whether to rush to his side and try to comfort him or go back to bed and act like she hadn’t heard him. After a few minutes of contemplating, she made up her mind.

Kima put on her soft terry cloth robe, swallowed hard and waddled down the stairs. Kori was slum. . .