"Where are we supposed to go again?" I stand against the white dingy mercury cougar. Chickie gives me the side-eye of disapproval and my left shoulder twitches for my street fighter senses to start going off. I don't give a fuck about her being upset with me.
She's the daughter of the prophet king. Doesn't mean a damn thing. Though, I'm technically a struggling prince going through withdrawal. I hate being human and feeling this intense need for energy.
"I have to go with you to Bowmen to get the werewolf and to the prison especially." she groans. Baby if it hurts so bad to be around me, I will call 911 in case of heart attacks. But she's going to have to deal with me.
Chickie brings her thick ass behind (ass) to the driver's side of the car. "You driver?" A simple question. I get an agitated response in Spanish. She shoves me to the side and jerks on the door handle. "Why are Spanish woman so angry?"
Another incoherent Spanish sentence leaves her mouth. Oh, just shut the fuck up. She's called me a nigger like five times.
I can't believe she's being a massive bitch over Simona. She has a nigga beating her ass and she's too much of a princess to fight back? Bitch. I expressed concern for the baby, she's on anti-vampire medication she shouldn't be on.
What if I just pull the wheel?
I could—I should.
Ugh, I can't. I'm upset and angry over Simona. I look at my wrist again. "Get in the fucking car!" she yells her fucking head off. I do—with great hesitation. "I'm letting you know now." I said getting into the passenger seat. "I will... pull the fucking wheel."
Her lips part which are disgustingly pretty. I keep picturing Mokiri. Ugh, my baby somewhere—she better not have a new nigga. I get in his car and drive away to neverland. Cause she not seeing him again.
THAT IS IF MY FUCKING COUSIN DIDN'T SCREW MY GODDAMN WIFE!
"I wish the fuck you would." She starts the car and looks at me with the most bougie-ass expression. "Tuck yo damn lip in." I put my seat belt on. "Keep that up, you'll need plastic surgery."
"You act just like him..." she mumbles. "You didn't leave. Fucking bitch."
"What?" I snap. Does she think I'm Ian? "I'm not him!" I refuse to be joined with this nigga—where the fuck is Aleigha? "You ain't fooling anyone. You got my father to turn on me. I know you're fucking with me again." she smiles. What?
She points at her temple. "I'm learning, that's what you told me to do." I should have learned more about this nigga before I just randomly picked a body. Why is my hair pink? Fucking--
We take off out of the driveway. The first stop is Bowmen Street. I don't want to handle a fucking werewolf... which says a lot given I have a werewolf wife. Well, we aren't married yet. I'm in the car just trying to regain some of my own memories if Aleigha gave me anything to go on.
Ok, I know I had a bunch of dolls in my room.
A large and long shelf against my wall that shelved voodoo dolls my mother and I made together. I am determined to use more wooden dolls or porcelain. Most people use those gods awful, terrifying handmade dolls with button eyes. I hate them.
Those are made to move while wood or porcelain is more controlled and destroyable.
I was in my room. I read one of my mother's books—ALEIGHA NEVER FOUND THE REST OF MOM'S BOOK! It was in Goldelieve's house.
And didn't I rob her? Yep, I'm pretty sure that was me. We make it a stoplight with three cars in front of us. Chickie gaze at me. "Ian." she says.
I'm not letting her call me Ian forever but I'm not wasting the time, at this moment, to say it. My head hurts. "I'm surprised at you." she purses her lips. "You concerned about another man's baby?"
Did Ian drug the little girl?
Ugh, I need to think. "Listen, can you like shut the fuck up." she draws her head back to the window in disbelief as if no has ever told her to fuck off. "¿Quién diablos te crees que eres?" she jabs her two fingers on the side of my head. I will hit. "¡Después de todo lo que has hecho! And now you tell me there's something wrong with my baby!"
I will hit.
"She used to take blood from the bitch in the house and now she won't even fucking eat." She clenches her fist, I drum my fingers on my thigh.
It's not domestic violence.
"¡Qué le hiciste a mi Simona!" she lunges at me in the car. The other cars pass the light and Chickie tries to strangle me with my own collar. "Get off me..." I say lowly. "Estoy tan jodidamente cansado de que arruines mi maldita vida!" She shakes me. When she lets go she starts belting me with a balled fist. I don't even flinch.
Ok.
I take Chickie's throat in my hands. "Stop that stupid shit." I squeeze. "Now breathe..."
She scrapes my fingers with her extended nails. "I said breathe. Now listen." As I hold her in my grip. I can the moments she tries to take a breath. "You aren't listening. You ain't got good sense either."
I rub her Adam's apple with my thumb. "Breathe through your nose." I tell her with the minimum patience in my voice. "I understand Simona is your daughter. I understand that Jose is your father, he also a King. I understand that you are a fucking victim. Ain't no shame in asking for help." Cars are honking and driving around the vehicle. "I'm not fucking Ian. Maybe you got PTSD. Now, get of it." I push her by the neck. "Get the car, I'm driving. Lord knows you dumb bitches can't do it."
We switched sides, "Give me the directions." Chickie points to the right intersection. "Do you understand you put yourself in a postion. None of that had to happen." I make the turn and head straight. "Watch yo' fucking attitude."
.
.
.
Chickie is completely silent. I told her three minutes away to suck in air because I thought she was holding her breath—WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MY COUSIN?
We get out of the car upon arriving at Hell on the Ground Puppy Mill. The sign is halfway in the road and can't be read. The building is flat on the dirt with a few stepping stones leading to it.
It is so suspicious but appears like a broken-down building. I know the cops showed up here before.
Chickie is taking her time and I'm in front of the door slanted on the side of the building. A white wooden door covered by a second door from prison or something. "How the hell do I knock?" I murmur.
"Ay!" Chickie shouts. She comes to the porch and opens the prison gate.
I didn't know...
She beats on the white wood. "¡Silvio! Soy Chickie, ven y abre!"
"How do you know him?" I ask.
She looks over to the side at me. "What are you? My pimp?"
"You need to be told. Quit acting like that."
"I'll do what the fuck I please."
"You look like a cockatoo. After this, let's go to the pet store so you can get more ideas for makeup. What you wanna be? An iguana?"
"Fuck you."
The door opens revealing a pale ass Latino with big lips. "Ah, volviste..." he rubs his hands together. "¿Qué necesitas esta vez?"
"I don't need dick. No necesito polla."
"Bien..." he rubs his stomach baring himself against the edge of the door. "Pero siempre está disponible..."
I'm sickened.
"Can y'all niggas stop trying to fuck in the damn door!"
Chickie looks at me ready to giggle, Silvio glares at me. "Quien es este negro?"
"July!" I answer. I'm just using whatever context clues I can. "Silvio, listen! I'm here for daddy. ¡Silvio, escucha! estoy aqui por papi"
This nigga can't speak English? She has to say it twice?
"Oh, viniste por el perro callejero..." he grins looking at her. "Bien, entra, preciosa. El niño perra se queda atrás." he moves out of the doorway.
He's trying his best.
"No. The boy comes too." she shakes her head. "Lo necesito. Él es mi perra."
That's not what she said!
.
.
.
Every time she moves, I swear Silvio is left to drool. She must get this a lot. Chickie doesn't actually have a big set of boobs but he's so hyperactive in that location plus her ass.
She has to be about a B.
"Ven por aquí, preciosa." he goes for her hands. She pulls away, and he snatches it. He kidnaps her to the lower level of the house.
I'm thinking it's a basement, it's more like a man cave with Two keg stands near the stairs going down. Chickie attempts to loosen her grip and each time he strengthens his hold.
Dear lord.
It's five werewolves in tall cages beside each other. "Quiere el chucho. Son trescientos sesenta pesos."
"360 dollars?" her jaw drops. You told daddy one hundred and ten. Look at these dogs!" she gestures to the wolves. "This one is missing an eye, the one beside him has a cut off tail, and this one skinny with mange!"
"Bruh, these dogs is unfit. It is a puppy mill. Fucking Sovereign State ain't even got it this bad."
Silvio raises a brow, "¿Quién carajo eres?" He aims his focus to Chickie. "Bajaré el precio a lo correcto por un poco de saliva..." he looks her up and down and goes for her waistline. I pull Chickie by the back of her pants.
"Jose said one hundred and ten dollars. In fact it should be lower," I eye the mangey mutt. "They unhealthy." I look at Chickie. "Translate."
She huffs but glances to me to say thank you. "Porque los perros parecen enfermos. No estamos pagando eso."
"¡Me importa una mierda!" he spats. Silvio puts his hands in his pockets. "Págame o fóllame!"
She grimaces. "He said, pay or fuck."
"Why you dirty?" I heave. "Yo fucking dick little or something? You can't buy a bitch from the corner?"
"no entiendo una mierda. Precioso, controla a tu puta."
I lunge forward sticking my fist in his nose. My right foot lifts and stomps out his forehead and the rest of his face. "I don't Spanish and her doesn't know English..." I hear feet go up the stairs. "Chickie?" I look back, she returns with a frying pan. She rushes to hit Silvio across the head with it.
And again, and again. About eleven times.
"Chickie..."
"I hate him... when Rahill was around, he didn't mess with me. Silvio is part of his old pack. Rahill used to be a salesmen."
"Yo ex nigga?"
"It's Ian fucking cousin." she throws her hands up frustrated. She turns to the dogs. "I don't know why daddy would wants these ugly things."
"Fuck you..." growls a mutt. "I got cancer right now."
"Do you see what I mean?" he twists to me. "They're damaged!"
"This dick ain't damaged!" barks a wolf.
"Then he wants us to haul a fucker to storage."
I look at Silvo on the ground. "What about that one?"
She looks at him. She frowns, "Rahill had a gang of forty-five."
"Ok," I cross my arms. "I'm not dead." whines Silvio. My God he lives...
"Did you just speak English?"
"No, lo acabo de aprender."
She kicks him in the stomach. "Bitch."
"Soy un cachorro." he holds his belly. "Me comí a mi hermano. no puedo vivir solo."
"So!" blurts Chickie. "¿Necesitas una madre?"
"¡Sabes que sacrificaron a mi madre!"
"And?" she slaps the dog across the face. He turns into a pretty thin silver werewolf. "¿Qué le pasa a tu hermano?"
He whines with his ear against his head. "Mi es Ciacco Barsanti. hola princesa Agradecida." he grins. She turns to me. "I'm not my sister."
"What the fuck is happening?"
"Hey!" shouts a dog in the cage. "Let us go and y'all can handle that shit later."
"I want to be free..." sings a canine.