Thicker Than Water

Book 1: Thicker Than Water

by Takerra Allen

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

Synopsis

"Allen draws you into the story from the very first page." --APOOO Book Club In New Jersey's infamous Brick City, four gorgeous young women are trying to make their way in life and love. But in a world of smooth-talking players, cunning drug dealers, and deadly rivalries, are brains, beauty--and even friendship--enough?... Stunning, sweet, and pampered as a princess, Sasha is a hood's treasure. So why did the love of her life suddenly cut her loose? And if she knew the answer, would she be strong enough to stay away?....Flawless, fashionable, smart and strong, Tatum swore she'd never let herself love the wrong man--until she falls for a calm, cool, connected, killer.... Originally from L.A., Neli's got a Valley Girl drawl and a deceptively innocent, natural beauty. She loves East Coast dudes--and there's one she's got more than her eye on. He belongs to someone else, but that's just a detail.... Thick in all the right places, Kim is ghetto fabulous, she knows it, and she doesn't give it away for free. A leader at nineteen, you don't want to get on her bad side. Over one hot summer, these girlfriends are relying on their bond to get them through--but when secrets and betrayals are exposed, can they survive the truth?" Thicker Than Water is an urban chick flick waiting to happen. Takerra paints a gritty,  true-to-life portrayal of friendship and betrayal."-- Dutch (Kwame Teague, author of the Dutch Trilogy)

Release date: February 1, 2015

Publisher: Dafina

Print pages: 368

Sample

There was something about today that Sasha was really feelin’. She woke up this morning in her spacious apartment, and despite everything that was going on, she knew it was going to be a good day. Today wasn’t like any other day. No, she was single now. Single, a fresh twenty-one, gorgeous, kid-free, and now unrestricted from any hindrances, or anything holding her back.

She sat on her balcony staring out at her pretty and serene complex. She really adored her apartment, which happened to be paid for by her parents, as long as she stayed enrolled in school.

Though it wasn’t the type of place you would normally find anyone not of the black or Hispanic demographic residing in, or any other person with half a mind to try to avoid the consequences of the Newark/Elizabeth area, it was still in a better part of the neighborhood.

She looked up at the sky. 8:35 P.M. on a June evening was the epitome of beautiful. The sun hadn’t completely set, so the orange and red glow from the dusk was just downright breathtaking. Sasha took in that moment for a second and reflected on the way things were going in her life. Enough.

She tapped her freshly pedicured toes with her pinky finger to make sure that they were dry and proceeded back inside. She had been waiting for the clock to hit 8:35 for what seemed like forever. She knew that at 8:35 she would start to get ready because she needed to leave her house at 9:35, since it took Sasha exactly an hour to perfect her look. Then, it took her exactly twenty-five minutes to get to Kim’s house, where Kim and the girls would be waiting to leave, so they could all get to the city around 10:30.

The city meaning none other than the Big Apple, city of dreams itself, New York City, but if anyone from New Jersey knew “the city” sufficed.

Sasha had the schedule all mapped out in her head, but somehow it never quite worked out the way she wanted it to, usually because Kim always had to make a mandatory weed run before being deemed functional. But Sasha began her process anyway. At least she would be punctual on her end.

By the time she finished dressing, Sasha looked even better than she had imagined, though it may sound hard to believe, for Sasha imagined herself as pure perfection.

It was always her confidence that seemed to get her into trouble, even though she couldn’t help it. Sasha came from a good family with a comfortable financial status, and her parents made it their duty to remind their only child that she was the most precious being to ever walk the earth.

Giving herself a final once-over in the mirror, Sasha fixed a strand of hair that was already in place, glanced over her makeup, and blew herself a much-deserved kiss.

She stepped out at exactly 9:35 as predicted in her black and silver Jimmy Choo shoes and a tiny, black dress that was simple enough to look effortless but sexy enough to be the center of attention. Her chin-length bob was bone straight courtesy of a trip earlier to the best hair stylist Newark, NJ, had to offer. And thanks to her vacation the previous week in Jamaica, her caramel skin was sun-kissed perfection.

Her ex-everything, Chauncey, had taken her. But, of course, a week ago, he wasn’t her ex. Chauncey was the shit, if there were any words to define him. And if the cars, clothes, the status, or the looks didn’t define him as such, just the fact that he could afford to let Sasha go, reiterated it, for she was considered the hood’s treasure. But if she was the treasure of the ship, then Chauncey was for certain the captain, and all of the pirates were trying to be him.

Kim and Neli sat on Kim’s run-down porch, puffing on a blunt and laughing and gossiping about everybody walking and riding by. Kim lived in the heart of Newark, the heart of the ghetto, just where she liked it.

“Look at this bitch, Neli, she know she need to stop!” Kim screamed, laughing at a crackhead sauntering by, switching her bony hips and trying to catch a trick like she was cute.

Neli just giggled along with her like she always did. She looked at Kim as a leader and she laughed at all of her jokes, listened to all of her bullshit, all to stay on her good side. Because the last thing you wanted, was to be on Kim’s bad side.

Kim put her feet up on the ledge of the porch and Neli did the same.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna wear tonight,” Kim added, taking another long puff of the potent weed that one of the local hustlers had provided her.

“Oh yeah, I gotta get dressed before Sasha gets here,” Neli remembered, putting her feet down. “I brought my clothes to your house because I wanna borrow those shoes, I mean . . . I couldn’t get dressed without shoes.”

They just looked at each other for a moment and then busted out laughing, not just for the simple fact that Neli could be a total airhead at times, but also because they were higher than a kite, so just about everything was comical.

Kim began speaking again in a mellow drawl, while inhaling deeply and letting the powerful weed smoke fill up and penetrate her lungs.

“Nah, fuck that, I ain’t getting dressed ’til she get here. Imma make sure I look better than all ya’ll bitches,” Kim promised with a chuckle.

“Kim, you crazy as hell.”

But Neli knew Kim was dead serious. Kim always wanted to stand out, be the center of attention, the loudest, the life of the party. Neli just wanted to be better than Sasha.

Neli always felt some kind of way when it came to Sasha. It was a gnawing feeling that she just couldn’t put her finger on. She wasn’t sure if it was love, hate, intimidation, or just plain outright jealousy; hell it could’ve been all of the above. She just knew that whenever Sasha was around, she couldn’t stop looking at her. Sasha just had an aura that drew people to her and made you want to be in her presence, but Neli just plain wanted to be her.

She loved Sasha. She loved all of her friends, but she also loved attention and when Sasha came around, she just never got enough.

Kim on the other hand was not intimidated by anyone. She didn’t have an ounce of jealousy in her; she was quite sure that she didn’t have an ounce of any type of emotion. When it came to people and any consideration of them, Kim just didn’t care. She didn’t give a damn about you; she’d fuck your man and call you up and tell you how it was if she felt you needed to know.

And if the fellas called her a hoe, she’d call them a trick, implying that they spent their money on her to get a taste of her goods. She was popular around the way, and although she was the youngest, the natural qualities in her made Kim a leader at the tender age of nineteen. She resided in the hood with her overworked mother and her criminal of a big brother, Lex. Born and raised in Newark, she was boisterous, beautiful, bold, and a true attention-getter. Her addiction to fast money and fast men always caused her drama. Her brother was always involved in some form of an altercation because of her. Some dude she slept with, some girl she fought, they always had a problem—and Kim continued to accumulate problems.

Kim was also what guys around the way called too cute to be true. As a youngin’ she was considered overweight but grew up to be thick in all the right places. She had huge breasts, thick thighs, and a robust behind. Moody hazel eyes and a 24-inch honey-blond weave complemented her banana complexion well. She had the typical video-girl look with a filthy-ass mouth. She was completely ghetto fabulous.

Neli, however, was very much opposite Kim. She had moved from Los Angeles, California, to Newark, New Jersey, about three years ago and made the acquaintance of Tatum, one of their girls. Tatum in turn introduced her to the crew and at first they were a little skeptical of the demure, secretive, and even a little shady-appearing new girl being added to their circle, but eventually they warmed to her and she’d been crew ever since. Neli’s appearance was of a California girl all the way and it was even in the way she carried herself. She could never get fully accustomed to the East Coast lifestyle. Everyone was so uptight, so rude to her. The girls here wore mean mugs, versus the girls in LA who sported smiles. Even if a guy was trying to approach you and you weren’t feeling him, the girls in LA still smiled and turned them down kindly, keeping their pride intact. Guys over on the East Coast loved that about her, and speaking about the men from the East, she loved them.

She spoke with a Valley girl drawl, and although it wasn’t as pathetic as Clueless’s Alicia Silverstone or the well-known “Becky, Oh my god!” one-liner, when you heard her, it was just enough to know she wasn’t from around these parts. Her long, full wavy hair was courtesy of her white-Irish mother and African-American father. She was slender, brown-skinned, with an innocent face. Quiet and shy, with a heart of gold, and eyes as sneaky as a cat’s.

Sasha’s black on black Acura pulled up onto Kim’s block and parallel parked between a pickup truck and Neli’s late-model Jetta. Sasha always loved parking between two mediocre cars, because that made her car appear even better.

Damn my car looks good, Sasha thought to herself. I just wish my daddy would’ve gotten me the Benz so I really could’ve been flowing.

Stepping out of the car one stiletto after the other, Sasha set the alarm, and strutted toward Kim’s porch. She could see Neli staring blankly and brushed it off as just admiration and natural envy, a true compliment to her.

“Who this diva bitch coming to the hood?” Kim screamed, joking of course. They definitely were home girls like that.

“I like your shoes,” Neli stated dryly, smiling, her eyes traveling over Sasha’s attire.

When they made eye contact again, Neli smiled out of embarrassment. Somehow Sasha always caught Neli admiring her, and Neli hated that.

She tried not to do it so much, and she tried to have enough confidence to make Sasha stare at her like that, but it never worked.

“Why y’all not dressed yet?” Sasha questioned with a playful attitude, crossing her arms across her cleavage, frustrated and a little chilly.

“Because I didn’t get dressed yet,” Kim replied with nonchalance, matching her sassiness.

She was still just sitting with her legs up and munching on some sunflower seeds without a care in the world.

“Yeah, we didn’t get dressed yet,” Neli added, imitating Kim’s tone.

Sasha shot Neli a look with narrowed eyes and a raised brow.

Neli got the hint and stood up, subtly rolling her eyes.

“Kim, I’m going to get dressed in your room.”

“Chris, please, I have to go! The girls are waiting,” Tatum pleaded in frustration.

“And they gonna keep waiting ’cause I got something to do,” he answered, not taking his eyes off of his Xbox game.

Tatum took in a deep sigh before responding, choosing her words carefully. She was beyond aggravated.

“I can’t believe I’m begging you to watch your own damn kids! Listen, Chris, you are my brother and I love you, but you are gonna have to get your own damn place. As much as I love those girls they are my nieces, not my children.”

Tatum noticed that he wasn’t paying her any attention and she became even more irate.

“Therefore, Chris, they are your responsibility, not mine!”

At this point Tatum was so fed up with her tired-ass brother she didn’t know what to do.

“What you trying to say, I don’t love my seeds?” Chris asked, completely missing the point she was attempting to make. At times it seemed her brother had absolutely zero common sense.

Tatum rolled her eyes and let out an audible sigh. “Good-bye.”

Tatum slammed his bedroom door and then made her way into her own bedroom to say good-bye to her nieces. She gave them a kiss and left plastic-wrapped sandwiches and fruit on the nightstand after turning on cartoons and taking out their coloring books.

Who knew how long it would be before Chris actually looked up from his video game and acknowledged them?

“Bye babies,” she said, smiling at them.

“Bye Auntie Tatum,” they said in unison.

Tatum switched her wide hips out of the house and jumped into her Benz truck, racing to Kim’s house. It didn’t matter how much she planned, she could never seem to make it out of her house on time. She applied her lip gloss as she drove, finishing off the final touches of her natural look.

Tatum was flawlessly beautiful. She had the most remarkable clear cocoa skin with long, thick, black hair. She always dressed stylishly and while Sasha always dressed the sexiest, all of the girls gave it to Tatum for her trendsetting fashion. She would put things together that you wouldn’t see on the runway for months. She was good like that.

Like tonight, she wore her faded vintage-looking, ripped jeans with a fresh, tight-fitting Dior tee. Accessories were key to setting her apart. She wore a bunch of pearls stacked around her neck along with her Pandora charm necklace and charm bracelets. Her red and silver Guiseppe sandals finished the outfit before it even got started.

She and Sasha definitely went tit for tat on the shoe game.

“There goes the black bitch,” Sasha sang playfully, referring to Tatum who was now pulling up.

Tatum was still pissed at Chris, but immediately perked up when she saw her girls. She was happy to see them.

“Wassup yellow bitch, brown bitch!”

Tatum greeted Kim and Sasha as she hopped out of the truck and crossed the street to Kim’s house. This little greeting was something the girls had been doing since childhood and when Neli joined the circle, she became the white bitch.

“Where’s the white bitch?”

“In the house still getting dressed,” Sasha responded with slight attitude.

By this time Kim had dressed in her black painted-on catsuit that showed off every angle of her curvy figure.

Neli was still inside trying to perfect her look, attempting her hardest to outshine the crew. Finally she came out dressed in cream-colored booty shorts, a cream and gold halter, and all gold accessories, including Kim’s gold sandals.

“Okaaay, white bitch!” The crew all yelled out and then burst out laughing.

Kim’s nosy neighbor, Ms. Ike, just looked at the girls and rolled her eyes, never tolerant of their young and wild shenanigans. Back in her day, girls didn’t carry themselves in that manner.

“Take your ass in the house! You just mad ’cause ya old ass ain’t going nowhere.” Kim made sure that she was loud enough for her to hear.

“Kim, stop! Y’all ready to go?” Sasha asked anxiously. After all these years she still carried her Southern accent. Her family had originated from Atlanta, Georgia. “Tatum, you driving?” she threw in there.

“Why me?” Tatum asked, rolling her eyes.

“Cuz you got the truck, black bitch,” Neli joked.

They laughed and with that, headed for the chromed-out Escalade.

“Shotgun!” Kim screamed, hopping in the passenger seat as Neli and Sasha slid in the back.

The girls headed for the city bumping the new Beyoncé while every group of guys they passed either in cars beside them, or congregating on street corners, tried to get their attention. Kim turned down the music.

“Yo Tatum, stop over there so I can get some bud.”

Tatum smiled at her crazy friend, and made a left turn, pulling up to the corner where all the local hustlers were posted.

“Kim, hurry up,” Sasha whined, ready to go.

“Sash, shut it up! Anyway, ain’t that ol’ boy?”

“Oh yeah,” chimed Tatum, jokingly, “that is Chauncey, looking all good.”

Tatum was only teasing Sasha with her worrisome self. But when Tatum looked in the rearview to catch Sasha’s reaction, she instead caught Neli with a crazy expression on her face.

She seemed nervous and Tatum wanted to know why.

Kim hopped out of the car and strutted over to Shoty, the dude that always had the quality weed. Kim didn’t know if they called him Shoty because he smoked so much, or because he was always letting off his gun, or maybe it was because his sexy ass liked to give chicks backshots.

Either way Kim was going to find out. Word around town was that Shoty had just came up, and Kim knew he had just copped a new Audi. She was trying to get a piece of that pie. And if you didn’t know it, now ya do: dudes had to pay to lay. That was the way the game went.

Kim felt as if her pussy was simply too good to be free.

“Sasha, run in the store please and get me some Big Red,” Tatum asked, knowing Sasha was dying for a reason to get out of the car and show Chauncey how good she looked. She knew her friend well. Tatum also wanted to ask Neli in private what the look was all about.

“I’ll go,” Neli blurted out, with a little too much excitement.

“No, I got it,” Sasha shot back, noticing Neli’s eagerness and catching Tatum’s hint.

Sasha gave Tatum a smile and stepped out of the car slowly, showing nothing but legs. “God damn.”

“Shit!”

The ghetto praises in the form of grunts and obscenities rang out from the group of thugs outside of the bodega. Sasha glanced over at Chauncey who sat with his door opened and one leg out of his 750Li BMW.

He was still the most lickable just downright sexy, chocolate man she’d ever seen and Sasha still loved him very much.

Chauncey spoke on his cell phone with a serious look on his face and glanced up at Sasha as she walked into the store.

Sasha didn’t catch that glance.

She stared around the store, trying to buy time and not really wanting to walk back out alone. Her confidence had slowly dwindled at the sight of Chauncey. Even his presence alone was that dominant.

“Can I have two packs of Big Red?” she finally asked softly.

She caught the Mexican guy behind the counter staring at her breasts. Go figure . . . Just as she turned to walk out she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up and there were two butt ugly, drunken hooligans invading her personal space.

“Get off of me!” Sasha snapped, pushing them and trying to get by, but they were all up on her and they reeked of weed smoke and alcohol.

“Damn, you pretty as shit. Let me do some things to you, ma,” one of them said, a little too close for comfort.

“Nigga, get the fuck off her! Now, muthafucka!”

Sasha immediately recognized that voice and startled along with her unwelcomed visitors.

That voice was one that spoke with so much authority, reminding her of her daddy. The men eased up immediately and their smiles faded to innocent looks. They obviously had no clue. Everyone else knew that Sasha was Chauncey’s and nobody dared to mess with her. Everyone looked out for her; they knew she was the only woman that he ever loved.

“I can take care of myself,” Sasha spat, storming past him.

“It don’t look like that to me . . . and what the fuck you got on anyway, out here on the Ave with Kim, huh?” Chauncey asked this in a way that demanded an answer.

“I got on what a single girl going to a club to get a nigga would have on,” Sasha responded wi. . .