Memphis Streets 3: Revenge

Chapter 11- Shaniqua

"What the fuck did you tell him?" Lil Bit asks wide-eyed in the middle of my kitchen.

"You didn't tell him the truth, did you?"

"Do I have stupid stamped on the center of my forehead?" I hand her the screaming baby. "Please do something about him." Her face twists in horror.

"Like what?"

"Like shut him up. I can't get him to stop hollering." I rub at my temples because they feel like they are just seconds from exploding. What in the fuck did I get myself into?

"Maybe he's just hungry," Lil Bit suggests.

"Have you tried to feed him?"

"Of course I've tried." I gesture to the mess I've made on the counter with the baby formula we picked up last night. "He wouldn't drink the shit."

"Did you heat it up?"

"What?"

"Oh my god, Niqua. Do you know nothing about taking care of a baby?" Lil Bit laughs.

"You mean do I know anything about taking care of a baby." I roll my eyes.

"Whatever," she barks back. "If you spent more time thinking through you schemes as much as you do correcting my English, you'll be ahead of the curve."

"Fuck you," I snap, defensively. "And the answer to your question is no. Why in the hell would I know about babies? I ain't out here tryna raise a bunch of seeds."

"But you're out there, cutting them out of bitches' stomachs?" She laughs.

"I'm glad you set me straight on that shit." She turns her attention to the baby.

"Here you go," Lil Bit says, pulling out a tit and rubbing the nipple in the baby's face.

"Go ahead, l'il man. It's all right," she coos.

I watch this shit with a fried brain. I always heard these little fuckers can be a pain in the ass, but goddamn! How do bitches do it? This loud muthafucka hasn't stopped screaming since I opened my eyes two hours ago. At long last the baby quiets down and latches onto Lil Bit's limp tit and starts sucking with everything he got.

"Thank God," I moan.

Lil Bit thrusts up her chin. "I told you he was hungry."

"What the fuck ever. Your ass is hired. You take care of him."

Lil Bit shakes her head. "Fuck that. I got three of my own at my granny's house. She done told me if I brought another crumb-snatcher in her house she was putting me out. Sorry, girl. I can't help you on this one."

"Fuck. I need to get better friends." I push myself up out of the chair and shuffle to the refrigerator and pull out the grape Kool-Aid. Some niggas need coffee or a cold beer to start their day. For me, this is the shit that gets me gassed up in the morning. This . . . and a Hot Pocket.

"You want one?" I ask Lil Bit, holding up the box. She shakes her head.

"Nah. I'm good."

"Suit yourself." I pour a glass and then throw my breakfast into the microwave.

"So what did you tell your brother this morning?" Lil Bit presses. "After he spotted the clothes, you had to tell him something." I lean against the counter and cross my arms.

"I ain't got to do shit. He ain't my fuckin' daddy." The second I say that shit, Nookie's new bitch screams out with another throaty orgasm. My face heats.