I Use To Love You: A Hood Chick's Revenge by Shaun Wanzo Page A

money.” She laughed as she snatched it out of my hand.
    “Come on, let’s go spark up while we chop it up,” Meka said while leading the way through her shop.
    I got up from the chair, bobbing my head to Big Sean/E-40 I Don’t Fuck Wit You pumping out of the speakers mounted on the ceiling of the shop. It was the perfect anthem for anybody who’d been betrayed by a muthafucka they’d given their heart to. I followed Meka to the storage room in the very back of the shop. Don the Barber and this new cat, Meka just hired, Rico, were cutting a couple of cats heads. They both nodded at me. But Don didn’t make much eye contact with me. He knew Ivan was a bogus ass nigga for how he played me for that dirty white bitch.
    “Meka, don’t forget I still need to holla at you before I leave,” the cute chubby nigga who was in Rico’s chair said. Meka cut her eyes at me and rolled them and sighed.
    “If it’s that important, then you’ll wait until I’m finished choppin it up with my girl.” Meka closed the door once we were both inside the storage room.
    “Fat nigga don’t want shit but some pussy,” Meka said with much attitude. I started laughing. “I hope the nigga’s money is long.”
    Meka was a cute bitch with a light brown complexion, who kept it hood from head to toe. Today she had the long Beyonce wig on and was racking a lime green Enyce t-shirt and Enyce stone-washed jeans that were ripped at the knees. Her flip-flops, toenails, nails, lipstick and bracelets all matched her t-shirt. It would’ve been too much on another bitch. On Meka it made her look like a ghetto queen.
    “I got this shit down in Denver. It’s goin to put you on yo ass,” I said as I packed my pipe with the Indigo Gold.
    “We’ll see bitch.”
    We passed the pipe back and forth and got high as a muthafucka. I looked around at the neatly stacked boxes of beauty and barber supplies, admiring how organized Meka was. I know I’m high when shit crosses my mind like that. Even though I was running my mouth, I was still careful about what came out of it. I told her we were out of town on a lick and those two muthafuckas tried to leave me for dead. I didn’t tell her where we were, what lick we hit, or any of the other dirt I’d done after that.
    Meka was a sharp hood bitch, who stacked enough cash to open a very successful business. She owned the entire building which included four apartments upstairs and office space next door that she was planning on turning into a nail salon. Me and Meka had jammed from the start because we were cut from the same cloth. We were both born with the deck stacked against us and had to get our hands dirty to make a better way.
    She knew about plenty of dirt me and Ivan had done without knowing all of the details. And I was sure she knew I was leaving out some this time. But all that really mattered was that those two backstabbing muthafuckas tried to kill me. And I needed her help.
    “So you want to use one of the apartments upstairs to hold that white bitch hostage?” she asked as she hit the pipe one last time as hard as she could.
    “It’ll just be until I get Ivan to meet up with me.”
    Meka started laughing.
    “You high as hell bitch,” she said looking into the pipe. “We gonna have to roll down to Denver and cop some mo of that shit.” She started laughing again. Meka always got silly as hell whenever she got high.
    “Meka, I’m serious,” I said, wiping sweat off my forehead. It was warm as a muthafucka in that storage room.
    “Chill out Phat Kat. You know I could never stand that fake ass white tramp. You can use the apartment, just don’t kill her ass up there.”
    “When I get this cash back I’ma hit yo hand,” I said, fanning myself.
    “You better. This is a legit place of business, bitch. This ain’t no hostage safe house.”
     
    I was already parked across the street from Kim K.’s mom’s crib when the disloyal white tramp parked a pearl white five series BMW. The