Love in the Trap

  Love in the Trap

  Lucinda John

  Contents

  Copyright

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  Author’s Note

  1. Mia

  2. Romeo

  3. Mia

  4. Romeo

  5. Mia

  6. Romeo

  7. Mia

  8. Murder

  9. Romeo

  10. Mia

  11. Romeo

  12. Shanie

  13. Romeo

  14. Mia

  15. Murder

  16. Romeo

  17. Mia

  18. Shanie

  19. Romeo

  20. Mia

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  Author’s Note

  Copyright 2016 by Lucinda John

  Published by Shan Presents

  All rights reserved

  www.shanpresents.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales or, is entirely coincidental.

  No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without writer permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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  Mia

  “I’m sick of this shit!” I yelled, slamming the refrigerator door close.

  There was nothing to eat in this damn house and it fucked me up because my mother worked a great job as a physical therapist at a rehabilitation center. On top of that, her ass somehow found away to sneak passed the government so we received both food stamps and subsidized housing. The reason behind us not having any food was because of my unfit mother’s terrible gambling problem. She would sell, steal, and use up her whole paycheck just to sit in some Indian’s casino. The days she won, I would get new clothes, shoes, and food to eat, but when she lost, poor me went without. You would think since I was her only child she would make sure I was straight, but nah, since I was seventeen, I was almost not her problem, therefore, she barely did shit for me.

  Thoroughly looking through the cabinets, I was able to locate a bag of chicken flavored noodles, which I cooked and ate with cheese and butter. It wasn’t the best meal, but it would have to do. Grabbing a butter knife, I went to my mother’s room and picked the lock until the door sprang open. I was in survival mode as I searched through her room for any piece of change I could find. After scrambling up thirty dollars, I made sure the room was in order, before I locked the door and went about my business.

  Dressed in a long, royal blue, fitted Walmart, maxi dress and a pair of Old Navy slippers, I slipped a pair of gold hoops, that I was able to steal from the hair store, in my ears and brushed my naturally, long, black curly hair into a ponytail. Since my mother and I were from Somalia, we both possessed a beautiful deep, smooth, dark complexion. Having Indian mixed in my bloodline benefited me because I had natural bundles that bitches would spend their whole income tax check paying for. My deep dimples, perky D-cup breast, thick waist, wide hips, and meaty ass, drove all the niggas in my school crazy. I could be dressed like a bum and still turn heads because of my natural beauty.

  It was hot as fuck as I stepped outside of our spacious three-bedroom, two-bathroom townhouse that my mother only paid one hundred and three dollars in rent, courtesy of the loyal tax payers. When I saw the city bus pulling up, I silently thanked the Lord. The sun and I did not get along well since I hated being sweaty and shit.

  The cat-calls started as soon as I got on the bus. I was never big on wearing panties, so I was sure the way my ass jiggled when I walked was the reason behind all the hooting and hollering. Ignoring them all, I placed my headphones in my ear and listened to Pandora on the bus ride to school.

  “Mia, slow down and let me talk to you,” Jerimih, my ex boyfriend, said.

  I couldn’t help but smile at how handsome he was looking in his Tommy Hilfiger jogger set. From the golds he wore in his mouth down to the Tommy boats he wore on his feet; everything about him was sexy. Jerimih was my first real boyfriend and heartbreak. All he worried about was the pussy I wasn’t ready to give. See, I was probably the only virgin in my school because I wasn’t too hyped about sex. I had more things to worry about, like where my next meal would come from, than hopping on dicks and shit. Plus, I was a sucka for romance and I wanted to save that part of me for someone who would wait for whenever I was ready to give it up.

  “What Jerimih?” I asked, with a unit on my face.

  “Damn, baby, fix your face,” he said touching my chin, sending chills down my spine.

  “I don’t have time. I’m about to miss my bus,” I whined. It was eighty-five degrees outside and waiting thirty minutes for the next bus was something I had no plans on doing.

  “Let me take you home,” he said, wearing a smile that threatened to leave me blind.

  “Man, Jerimih, I’m not up for your games man,” I warned.

  “No games, I’mma just take you home,” he said.

  “Yeah, ok,” I agreed, following behind him.

  Jerimih was the only senior I knew who drove an Audi. His big brother was a lawyer and looked out for him and his grandma since both his parents died in a house fire when he was just a baby. To be with Jerimih was like being with a celebrity. He was popular, the star on the track team, he was sexy as fuck, and he came from money. All the girls wanted him, so when he approached me our junior year, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. For years, no girl liked me because all their niggas wanted me, but as soon as I snatched up Jerimih, all them hoes wanted to be my bestie.

  “You looking good in that dress,” Jerimih said, as he pulled out of the school parking lot.

  “Thank you,” I replied, looking out the window.

  “You have a date for prom yet?” he asked.

  “I ain’t going.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know.” I shrugged my shoulders.

  In the year Jerimih and I had been together, he’d seen first hand all the shit I had to go through at home. He would witness me not having any food to eat, or clean clothes to wear, and would help me out. I didn’t start really struggling until Jerimih and I broke up. If it wasn’t for Jerimih dumping me for not fucking him, then turning around and fucking my best friend, then I would have been somewhat straight.

  “I can help you with-”

  “Jerimih, on the real, what we had is dead. You did some foul shit to me and I don’t think I could get over that shit. Even if I ever did forgive you for the shit you did, I still wouldn’t be able to look at you the same,” I said.

  “You still on that?” He sucked his teeth.

  “Yes, nigga, the fuck you mean? You dump me only to bring your dirty dick ass to a bitch’s house, who you knew I fucked with heavy and fuck her. You a dirty bastard,” I snapped, feeling my blood boil.

  “I should
put your poor ass out my car for that foul ass mouth,” he said, clenching his jaw.

  My mother always would tell me that my sharp tongue would get me in trouble, but I didn’t give a fuck. If I was rough around the edges that was because I had to learn early in life that this was a dog eat dog world. In my mind, it was every motherfucker for themselves and Mia was the only motherfucker who had Mia’s back.

  “Jerimih, I am not hard up for a fucking ride, pull the fuck over!” I yelled, yanking at the door.

  “Crazy ass. Just reminded me why I fucked your best friend. Matter fact, get the fuck out my car so I can slang that dick her way,” he smirked.

  WHAP!

  My hands stung from the smack I delivered to his face. He was still in his state of shock when I jumped out of the car and ran until I was around a bunch of people. I knew Jerimih wouldn’t cut up and hit me around a crowd, so I was good until he caught up with me later. As I walked through the shopping center plaza, I noticed the Bells Outlet. I had my booster’s bag, so I decided to get me a few new threads.

  I walked through the store grabbing a few outfits that would look good on me, along with some decoy outfits I had no plans on taking. When I had an arm full of clothes I went to the dressing room to try them on. I quickly removed the scissors out my bag and carefully removed the sensors from the clothes. Folding them up neatly I stacked them between my note books in my bag.

  “You didn’t find anything you like?” the elderly white lady working the fitting room, asked.

  “No,” I replied, handing her the stack of clothes I didn’t want.

  Just so I wouldn’t look suspicious, I bought me two pairs of American Eagle sandals that were on the clearance rack for five dollars a piece. After paying for my things, I grabbed a job application and filled it out. I walked to every store that was in the plaza and filled out job applications. My senior year was rapidly coming to an end and I would be turning eighteen soon, so a job was something I desperately needed.

  It was close to six in the evening when I finally decided to wait at the bus stop and head home. Since the sun was down, waiting for the bus was much easier. When I finally made it home, I sucked my teeth when I saw my mother’s casino buddies sitting on our ruby red sectional carrying on.

  “Hello everyone!” I fake smiled, as I greeted the ladies.

  “Hey, Mia, are you just now getting out of school?” Connie one of my mother’s friends asked.

  “No, I just came from filling out job applications,” I replied.

  “That’s nice. How’s school?” she asked.

  “Great!”

  “Excellent.”

  “Mia, baby there is some money on the counter for you to order pizza, don’t wait up,” my mother told me, as she eagerly made a dash for the door.

  Her leaving money for me was only a front for her friends. If they wasn’t here, then she wouldn’t have said a word to me as she ran out the house. My mother was fake like that. Around her peers she would put on an act as the world’s greatest mother, but behind closed doors, she was worse than having a crack head for a mama.

  Grabbing the forty dollars, I stuffed it my pocket and opted for a McChicken meal at McDonalds. I had no idea when I would get more money, so I had to make the best out of what I had. The night air felt hot and musty as I made that one block walk to the fast food restaurant. Since there was only a stop sign separating the nice area where we stayed from the hood, I could see the block boys and the hoochie mama’s outside smoking weed and carrying on about whose baby daddy was fucking who.

  When I walked in McDonalds, I was standing behind some bummy ass nigga. He was dressed in a pair of black pants, over worn boots, a black tank top that looked like it had seen better days, and his smooth, curly hair was all over his head. By the outline of his muscular frame, he looked like he would be sexy as fuck if he took a nice, long, hot shower, shaved, and wore some decent clothes. I listened as he made his order for two Mc Doubles with mac sauce, a large fry, and a cup of free water.

  “Hey, girl what you eating?” Shanie from my school asked.

  “Let me get McChicken meal with cheese and tomatoes,” I replied.

  “Anything else?”

  “Nah. Y’all hiring?”

  “Yeah, here is the store number. Just fill out an application and put me down as a reference.” She smiled.

  Shanie was a sweet girl. She was stick skinny with a face filled of black heads, but she was cool as fuck. If she ate a few of them big macs and use some Clean and Clear, she would be a bad one. I wasn’t a shallow female so I would talk to her whenever she spoke to me. Hell, she was the only thing I had close to a friend since all the bitches looked at me as competition.

  “Thank you girl, and I’mma do that application,” I said, grabbing my food.

  “Here is my number; hit me up if you need help.”

  “Ok, I gotchu,” I said, grabbing the receipt that she had written her number on the back of.

  When I walked to the drink machine to fill up my drink, the bummy dude was sitting at the table with two duffle bags next to him. The way he tore into his sandwich lead me to believe that he had missed a few meals. From the looks of things, it seemed that he was homeless. Not being the type to jump to conclusions, I filled my cup, and thanked the Lord for the few blessings I did have and left.

  “Aye, lil mama, let me get your number?” a corner boy asked, as I made my way home.

  “Tony, don’t get fucked up. You know you fucking with my bitch, Kyreesha,” a girl snapped at him.

  “Man, I’mma need you to get off my dick if you ain’t sucking it,” he snapped back at her.

  As bad as I wanted to sit back and watch what was about to go down, I decided to take my ass in the house. I had my fair share of fights with bitches who was mad at me because they nigga stayed flocking a bitch. I was finally getting peace in the neighborhood therefore I decided to steer clear of any drama.

  After fucking up my food, I tied my hair up and took a hot shower. Slipping into a night shirt, I laid in my full size bed and did the McDonalds application on my phone. I made sure to use Shanie’s name as a reference and even lied on my work history about working at Burger King. When I was done, I filled out several more applications on my phone, finished up my homework, and headed to sleep with dreams of winning the lottery dancing through my mind.

  Romeo

  I was still posted in McDonalds, chilling long after I finished my meal. I knew the manager was getting ready to kick me out, so I decided to go to the bathroom and wash up. Dragging my things into a handicap stall, I cleaned my body off the best I could and replaced my clothes with some clean ones.

  Life had really been hard on a nigga like me. I was born to a crack whore and a pimp eighteen years ago. I remembered my father getting shot in the head one night for trying to defend my mother who owed a shit load of money for weed that she’d gotten on credit. After the death of my father, my mother’s drug habit just spiraled out of control, until she overdosed on that shit.

  It’d been two months since my mother died and I’d been living on the street since. I tried to hustle the best I could, but with my being from Chicago and not really knowing a lot a nigga’s from Fort Lauderdale, it was hard. I thought of moving back to Chi-town, but a nigga had no funds for a plane ride, and even if I did, I would only end up homeless in another state.

  Studying myself in the mirror, I could see what used to make the girls go crazy over me. Before my grandmother died, I was living in Chicago with her where she raised me as if I was her son. Don’t get me wrong, she still struggled to take care of me, but I always had clean clothes, food to eat, and a roof over my head. Back in my decent days, I used to have all the hoes in the Chi going crazy over a nigga. I stood at 6’2, weighing two hundred and fifty-two pounds. My skin was like milk chocolate and my smile could have landed me a job doing a commercial for Colgate. I had an athletic built because I played football. Some even said I resemb
led Reggie Bush, but the only difference was my long, curly hair and untamed facial hair that I was dying to get rid of.

  When my grandmother got real sick, I had no choice but to move to Florida to be with my unfit ass parents. My grandmother left money for me, but fucked up when she left it all in my mother’s name until I turned eighteen. I remembered approaching my mother about the money and her base head ass had the nerve to say she had been smoked up my shit. Out of respect for her giving birth to me was the only reason I didn’t fuck her good for nothing ass up.

  I was dressed in a pair of baller shorts, a black V-neck, and worn out black Air Force Ones when I walked out of the fast food joint. I hated how bummy I looked, but this would do until I was able to find my next come up. I’d been stalking this alley, watching the corner boys’ every move. I was waiting for my moment to sneak in and wreck havoc on some shit. I didn’t own a gun so my best bet was to catch one of them niggas alone.

  As I leaned up against the alley’s wall with my bags next to my feet, I thought back to the girl that was in McDonalds earlier. I never saw a female as bad as her sexy ass. A nigga was fucked up over milk chocolate females and her dark skin had a nigga ready to lick all over her fine ass. My whole time on the streets she was the only female that didn’t turn her nose up at me or talk shit about me. A nigga would feel like shit when them stuck up bitches would walk by and make slick comments about how bad I looked. I knew my situation wasn’t the best, but I damn sholl ain’t need a constant reminder.

  When the corner boys started making moves, I cleared my mind to mentally take notes. These niggas were so green to the game that they never watched their surroundings while handling their shit. I would hide in the cut wherever they would be, and not once did they find my ass suspicious. I was ready to make my moves on them fake ass dope boys, but I knew patience was a virtue. My time was so close to coming that I could taste that shit on the tip of my tongue. The thought of the come up had my stomach growling. I was a hungry nigga that was going to get it by any means.

  * * *

  “I’m about to fuck your little thieving ass up!” a man yelled, waking me up out of my sleep.

  I quickly sat up and looked to where all the commotion was and saw a fat dude with his arms around a chick’s neck. At first, I was going to mind my business until the sound of her struggling to breathe caused me to stir. I got up and slowly started walking up on them and that was when I noticed the girl that was being strangled was the chick I saw in McDonalds previously. Springing into action, I sent a jab to the side of the man’s temple and knocked him out instantly. The chick fell to the floor and started gasping for air. When a wallet fell next to her, I then realized what all the commotion was about.