Hood Misfits Volume 2

Book 2: Hood Misfits

by Brick, Storm

Genres: Crime Fiction

Synopsis

The Misfits are back and now they are international. Trigga, Diamond, and the crew are in London. Dame has been handled and everything should be perfect. But when a plan works too perfectly, there is bound to be some unfinished business. Secrets are exposed. Diamond has learned the game and now she must continue to embrace a life she was not meant to live while understanding the truths of her own past. Trigga thought he was going to be able to give his new family peace but when ghosts from the past appear in London, that peace starts to unravel the new gang. Can Trigga keep Diamond safe, and while doing so, can he really trust those who are around him if he doesn't really know them himself? E.N.G.A was once just a motto. Now it is a way of life. Travel through the streets of London, England, and meet some new misfits, as a battle royal begins and eventually takes them back to the streets of Atlanta for a final showdown.

Release date: January 1, 2015

Publisher: Recorded Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

“You got my ends, bruv?”

Dante sat at his long cherry wood king-style dinner table where he often handled his business. The hardwood floors had been polished to a mirrored shine. The muscles in his arms twitched in annoyance as the toothpick in the corner of his mouth flicked up and down. He liked the dining room. He’d called it that for several reasons, reasons no man, woman, or child wanted to ever find out first-hand. The man he was talking to stood in front of him with glossy eyes, ashy lips, grinding teeth, and trembling hands. Robes knew the moment he was snatched up into an unmarked van and driven to Dante’s mansion what was about to happen, but he was high enough to hope that he could talk his way out of the jam he was in. Dante had the best blanca, bings, and drone in the Bricks. If you wanted a hit of the good shit, you came to Dante’s crew to get that. Blanca was cocaine, bings was crack, and drone Mephedrone in London slang. Robes had gotten a biscuit from Dante on the strength of his word alone. Said he was going to sell that shit and bring the money back to Dante. Only thing was he knew he shouldn’t have taken that shit when it was offered, but he needed a hit bad and was willing to do damn near anything to get it.

To be honest Robes had been watching his back in all codes. He knew soon as word got back to Anika that he had been buying from Dante and bringing it back to the Bricks she was gone split his bloody skull. Robes was a part of the Jamaican Lords who held shop in the Bricks, which was Anika’s codes. They called that nigga Robes because he was always walking around in long robes looking like a knotty locked Jesus and shit.

“I don’t ’ave it yet, bruv, but if you just give to the end of the day, yeah?” Robes begged.

Dante sat not moving. The look on his face was stoic as he stroked his cleanly shaven chin. Dante hated hair anywhere on his body except his head. That stemmed from childhood trauma. Anytime Dante’s daddy would get drunk and fuck his mother he’d make his twin sons, Dame and Dante, more like force them face first into his crotch to smell his dick. He’d wanted to make sure they knew what pussy had smelled like on dick. His father had been hell in the streets and even more hell when he was at home. Dante didn’t like that shit then, but now he understood the method to his daddy’s madness. Humiliation was better than death. You take a nigga’s pride and you had him by the balls.

“You know, Robes, you said that same shit exactly three hundred and sixty hours, thirty minutes, and ten seconds ago, bruv. You think I got time for the run around about my ducats, blood?” Dante questioned coolly. “You took a biscuit from me. That’s fifty racks of crack.”

As Dante talked he motioned with his hand to one of his henchmen. The boy left the room quickly. Dante then stood, unsnapped the top of his cane and pulled out a sword so shiny that you could see your death on the blades.

Robes backed away with his hands in the air. “Don’t kill me, Dante. I got kids, bruv. Let me ’ave ’til the end of dusk. I’ll—”

Robes’s words got stuck in translation when the double doors opened and his three children were led in the room with guns to their heads. His two fourteen-year-old twin daughters looked at him with tears running down their faces and fear in their eyes. Gray duct tape covered their mouths and their hands were tied in front of them. They had been stripped naked. Robes’s whole body started to hurt at the thought of what had been done to his baby girls. It almost weakened him to his knees.

“Jah bless mi soul,” Robes spilled from his lips when he thought of the monster he knew Dante was.

Dante was more feared than respected throughout London. Nobody, not even coppers wanted to be on that nigga’s bad side. Only Anika and Phenom were equally revered. Those were the three faces in London you never wanted to see if you had wronged them.

Robes looked to see his fifteen-year-old son’s face had been beaten and bloodied. He knew his son was a street warrior so he could figure out that the boy had fought hard not to be taken, but was outnumbered. He too was taped and restrained.

“Get down,” Dante ordered.

Robes looked from his children to the sword Dante had leveled at his side. His daughters’ loud sobs tore at his insides. The look in his son’s eyes begged him not to bow to any man. His son, Deeks, was street like that. He’d die standing before he bowed in humiliation. That was just the way the boy had been wired. Robes had been wired that way too, before drugs. Drugs broke the strongest of men down to the core, down to nothing more than a shell of what they used to be. Drugs had taken his wife from him. Drugs were what had him kneeling before a man named Dante to be beheaded in front of his children. Jah only knew what that nigga Dante would do to his kids afterward. He didn’t want to, couldn’t stand to see the fright on his kids’ faces as they looked on so he closed his eyes.

Dante laughed loudly and then chuckled in a sinister way. “Oh, nigga, you think you ’bout to die, eh?” He laughed again. “You owe me, bruv. You can’t give me what’s mine if you dead, yeah?”

Robes opened his eyes and looked up at Dante after glancing at his children. He didn’t know what that crazy nigga Dante was about to do, but was glad death wasn’t in his near future. If only Robes had known that what Dante was about to do would forever be worse than death in his son’s eyes, he would have begged for death a lot sooner.

Dante unbuckled his belt and then dropped his pants and underwear to the ground. “You’re going to pay me back one way or another and no way you or your kids leaving the dining room until you do.”

Robes swallowed then almost threw up at the thought of putting another nigga’s dick in his mouth. His face screwed up and defiance swelled in his chest as he shook his head and moved to stand up.

“Nah. Fuck that shit, Dante, bruv. Nigga, you can kill me first before all of that—”

Whatever else Robes was about to say never made it to fruition. Dante’s fist connected with his mouth. Robes fell backward spitting up blood. He’d obviously forgotten who the fuck Dante was, where the fuck his pedigree came from. Before Dante’s father, Lu, was killed in prison, he thrived on making niggas, the hardest niggas, into bitches in a matter of seconds. Same as on the street. As above, so below. Dante stepped out of his shoes, kicked his pants and underwear off before charging at Robes. Dante’s dick swung like a pendulum as he went after Robes. He grabbed the disheveled man by the collars of his robes and punched him over and over again until at least ten of his top and bottom teeth came flying out his mouth. Deeks cringed more at the thought of his father sucking another man’s dick than he did at his father dying. He’d rather his father die than go out like that.

There would be no such thing as physically dying for Robes that day but he would die internally and he would be dead in the eyes of his son and one of his daughters. The man they’d known as Daddy, the man who had stolen to feed and clothe them would never be the same man as they’d seen him before. His grunts and groans of pain would never be erased from their minds.

Dante snatched a bloody-faced Robes from the floor of the dining room and made him kneel again. Robes fell back over. Although he had taken a good beating and was weak he could kneel. Yet, there was still no way he would suck another man’s dick. He’d rather die. Dante saw this. He could peep the game and knew the man’s pride wasn’t going to allow him to kneel down and suck dick. Didn’t matter to Dante. Somebody was going to pay for his product, with the emphasis on somebody.

He walked over and snatched Deeks up from the floor. The boy wrestled and tried to jerk away from Dante’s grasp. If his hands hadn’t been bound he would have swung on that evil nigga. But he couldn’t do any of that. He was bound and gagged just as his sisters whose sobs were now louder than they had been before. Dante slung the boy over on the huge, thick wooden table onto his stomach then snatched down the jeans that were already sagging, and boxers that covered the boy’s hairy ass. The boy already knew, had already heard that Dante was like those boys in the cells. He’d ass rape a dude just as he would a bitch. The bitches he raped and fucked for pleasure, the niggas for the pain and humiliation it brought them. Although Deeks knew he couldn’t get away he still struggled and tried to speak through his taped mouth.

“You or your son, nigga,” he told Robes. “Your mouth or your son’s asshole. And your daughters got three holes each. Who’s paying? You or them, blood?”

The thought of Dante doing something as vicious as sexually assaulting his three children was enough to bring Robes to his knees. Robes prayed to Jah that he wouldn’t ever have to see this fate again. It was already breaking him down mentally as he eased up onto his knees. Dante wasted no time dropping his hold on the son and shoving his hung dick into Robes’s mouth. Dante was the animal his life and his father had raised him to be. He gave no fucks about anyone except his money and his power. Even as the thought of taking the people out responsible for his brother’s death encouraged the rage in the way he mouth fucked Robes, Dante’s face never changed. That stoic look stayed planted there. The evil in the eyes of the man never left.

As he tried to choke a now almost toothless Robes with his dick, Robes’s son sat with his head bowed in disgust and hate. He didn’t know who he was most disgusted with or hated the most, Dante or his father. Robes’s eldest twin daughter was feeling the same. She’d never respect her father again for sucking a nigga’s dick. For what it was worth, she would have let Dante fuck her in every hole she’d owned not to see her father on his knees like that. When Dante pulled his dick out and shot his semen all over their father’s face, all three children simply wished they were in another place and time.

Hours later after Dante had gotten his fill of bloodlust and humiliation in for the day, he sat in the back seat of a steel gray Mercedes as his driver drove him through Hackney. Robes had been dropped off for his whole codes to see. He was naked, bloody, and still had Dante’s semen on his face. The madman chuckled in the back of the car at his own lunacy. He thrived on it. Dante had kept the man’s daughters but left his son with him in the middle of the street. Robes still had a debt to pay and since he didn’t have the money or the product, his daughters would suffice. Dante was sure word around the way had been spread about what Robes had done. Sooner or later his own hood would take care of him for the affront to his manhood.

It was time for Dante to move on to other things. He smoothed the front of his designer black dress slacks and flexed his fists.

“Did you get her location?” he asked his driver.

Dante had laid his cane on the tan leather seat as he leaned over to one side, hand stroking his chin.

The driver nodded and looked at his boss through the rearview mirror. “Yeah, boss. She’s in Phenom’s code, heavily protected. You ain’t getting in or outta that shit without death coming for you.”

Dante grunted deep in thought. He’d done some slick shit to get Phenom’s and Anika’s attention. It had worked, had worked so well that the nigga was willing to negotiate. That made Dante smile a wicked one.

Same day, three hours later

“I’m so happy to see you all right now. Y’all just don’t know,” I said once we had all gotten back to my flat.

It was my birthday and the best present I could have gotten was Trigga, Big Jake, and Gina. I had thought all them niggas was dead. Gina’s voice was a little hoarse because of the injury she had given herself. She still had some visible scars on her chest, legs, and arms, but my girl was alive. I couldn’t stop hugging her and crying. Dame had made all our lives a living hell. We had all been chess pieces in his game. He’d killed Trigga’s folks, Big Jake’s grandma, my parents, and abused Gina like she wasn’t even human. Then to think that nigga had somebody shoot Jake in the legs so he wouldn’t make it to the NFL was even crazier. I was happy that nigga was dead, but I didn’t tell nobody I could still hear him in my head, taunting me.

“Where y’all niggas been for the last three months?” Ghost’s little voice rang out. “Trigga you said you wasn’t ever gonna leave me. I thought you was dead for a while.”

“Told you to trust in a nigga. I always keep my word,” he told her, pulling on her thick pigtails. “Niggas got shot up and injured so we had to heal and get right.”

“Y’all couldn’t call?” I asked.

“Shit was crazy back in the States and we couldn’t even leave right away like we planned. Alphabet Boys were all over the place. When we did leave out, we had to head to Nigeria with the African queen, Anika. We had to lay low for a minute. Gina had to heal. She cut herself up good,” Trigga explained.

I looked at Gina who had her head lying on Jake’s big arm. I knew Alphabet Boys meant the FBI, DEA, ATF, APD and any other law enforcement agency that had taken interest in Dame’s empire.

“Then this big nigga got some burns and shit on his back, another bullet in his leg, and one in his back.,” he kept going. “We knew you were safe because Phenom had eyes on you.”

“Yeah, but outta all that shit, Dame is fucking maggot bait right now,” Jake spoke out. “And that alone had a nigga sleeping good at night.”

They all laughed at that. I didn’t. Dame still tortured me in my dreams. I still couldn’t shake the fact that I’d sworn I saw him when me and Ghost were at the park that day. I didn’t voice my opinion though. I didn’t want to kill the feel good vibe they were in. We all sat around and talked for a good while. From time to time I would glance at Trigga. I realized that I was still scared to look at him all because of the fear Dame had instilled in me. As I stood in the kitchen mixing cherry and grape Kool-Aid, I finally just really looked at him. It was rare he smiled so every time he did my pussy thumped. There was always something about that nigga’s smile that got to me. I shook off my infatuation of what I couldn’t have and watched them laugh and talk with one another.

Ghost was right in the thick of things, looking on and talking like she was one of us older Misfits. At times I wanted to tell her that she was too young to be talking that way, but I couldn’t really. She was just like us. Had been through a lot like us. Both her parents dead just like mine, Trigga’s, and Big Jake’s. We may as well say both Gina’s parents were dead too.

“Li’l shawty, what’chu looking at?” Trigga asked me breaking me out of my thoughts.

“You,” I answered before my brains caught up to my mouth.

He stared at me for a long time before he smirked like he was amused. I didn’t even realize Ghost, Jake, and Gina had all turned their attention to me because I was caught up in Trigga. I averted my eyes not sure what else to do with them. My cheeks heated up and I still had to wonder if he would be interested in me. That day Dame made me suck his dick and then nut on my face came flashing back in my mind. Why would he even want a girl like me after that?

I finished fixing the drink then took everyone a glass. For three months I had been living on my own like I was an adult and shit was still kind of surreal to me.

“So, now what?” I asked as I sat on the couch next to Trigga.

“What’chu mean?”

I looked at Gina when she asked the question and smiled.

I answered, “I mean what do we do now? All I know is the streets. All we know is the streets. I ain’t even finish high school. Don’t know if I can.”

“You can and you will finish.”

I jumped up from the couch when Anika walked through the door. I could have sworn I had locked that shit. My nerves were on edge as I grabbed my gun and aimed it at her by rote. For the past three months I had always kept it near me for easy access. I was used to protecting me and Ghost so it was a natural reaction. She stood in front of me in an all-black cat suit that contoured to the curves of her body. Black combat boots that came to her calves. Her long, braided hair cascaded down her back as that knowing smirk she always carried painted her features. She wasn’t fazed by the gun I had aimed at her face.

“How does it feel to have your family back?” she asked calmly. “And put the gun away before you accidently shoot yourself, niece.”

Although her words were pleasant, there was something about the way she closed the gap between us that said even if I pulled the trigger it would be me that ended up laid out on the floor. But before that thought could resonate within me, the man I knew as Phenom came through the door and snatched the gun away from me so smoothly I didn’t know I had it.

He tossed the gun to Trigga who stood and caught it midair. “Keep this away from her before she accidently shoots herself,” he told him.

I glanced back at Trigga who gave a slight head nod like they were all communicating about something I didn’t know. Phenom’s British accent was rich. The black suit he had on put me in the mind of Idris Elba if he was to ever play James Bond. I could easily see some of Trigga’s features in him. He was tall like Trigga but slimmer. Haircut was tapered and lined to perfection and although that nigga was fine, he moved slowly and stealthily like he could kill you quicker than you could blink.

I didn’t like how they had just tried to play me. That whole head nod and “get the gun before she shoots herself” thing made me feel inadequate, out of the loop.

“Don’t be snatching shit outta my hand,” I snapped.

I didn’t care who he was. I didn’t want to be put back in the mind frame that I had to lie down and take shit from niggas anymore just because they thought they had the upper hand.

Phenom’s gaze found me. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile or nothing. I couldn’t read that nigga. A look passed between him and Trigga again, pissed me off some more.

“Children shouldn’t play with guns unless they are going to use them, Diamond. Is what I’m saying comprehensive to you?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid either.”

I may have been a child according to him, but if Anika had been any other nigga, they would have been dead, no questions asked.

“Diamond,” Anika called my name softly as she stepped between me and Phenom. “It’s okay. We’re not the enemy. Phenom is a bit overprotective when it comes to me is all. One day, you’ll have a man who will feel the same way about you.”

“It’s okay, Ray-Ray,” Gina said as she stood and took my hand. “We ain’t gotta be all angry all the time now and defensive. Dame is dead. We safe now.”

I turned to look at Gina. If it hadn’t been quiet in the room, we wouldn’t have been able to hear her that well. Her voice went in and out mostly. At times she had to clear her throat to speak. I shrugged. I guess she was right though. Wasn’t a need for me to be up in arms about anything with Dame dead. Guess I was still paranoid.

“You’re not safe,” Phenom spoke gruffly.

That nigga’s voice carried a lot of bass when he spoke. I didn’t even know his whole story, only what I had read in that text that said he was Trigga’s uncle and Anika was my aunt. I had so many questions but none came to mind at the moment.

I shook my head. “Huh? Trigga killed Dame. I saw him do it.”

“That’s why we’re here,” he continued. “Dame is the least of your worries.”

I was still confused and looked to Trigga for some sort of sign that he at least knew what Phenom was talking about. There was a scowl on his face where a smirk had been just a moment earlier.

“Dame has a brother,” Trigga stated coolly.

My face frowned. Chest got heavy. “What?”

He repeated. “He has a brother. Here in London.”

Ghost had recoiled on the couch. She’d balled her little self up with her knees to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs, like she was trying to disappear. Gina turned to look at Big Jake trying to figure out if someone was playing a joke on us or like me, trying to see if anyone would break out into a smile and tell us they were joking. But there was no smile on Jake’s face or Trigga’s. I looked at Anika and that all-knowing smirk was gone. Phenom’s face was something akin to a frown and looking like he had walked into a room full of decomposing bodies. Everything about what had been said was confusing me. If Dame had a brother who was in London, why the hell would they send me there and leave me all alone for three months?

“If he has a brother here, why y’all send me here by myself?” I asked, voice slightly raised and shaking.

I had asked that to everyone in the room, but my eyes were trained on Trigga. I was two seconds away from slapping that nigga. It was him who had told me to board that plane no matter what. If that nigga Dame had a brother over here, Ghost and I had been in more danger than I had thought. My gaze was unfocused when I looked around the room again. Posture slumped as my neck bent forward. I was feeling like I was about to pass out from exhaustion.

“I didn’t know until last week,” Trigga voiced like he knew the answer I was looking for.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I had you protected. All of those niggas you see out there every day protected you and the little one. No one was coming in or out of here without getting past them,” Phenom explained.

That still didn’t make me feel no better. I kept thinking about all the shit that could have happened to me and to Ghost.

“I don’t know them niggas.”

“Doesn’t matter, Diamond. Nothing was going to happen to you,” Anika told me as she stepped forward and laid a hand on my shoulder.

I shrugged it away. “It does fucking matter because if it didn’t none of you would be in here looking and acting like something was about to pop off. So if the shit didn’t matter and nothing was going to fucking hap. . .