Fiending for His Love Page 3

  “Money, come on. I’ve been doing this stuff for years now. Please let me out of this game so I can live a normal life and take care of my son.” Jean got on her knees begging Money Mack.

  His eyes pierced through Jean’s and he shook his head in disapproval. He knew Jean’s money hungry ass wasn’t going nowhere near out of the game. He knew that she just wanted all of the money for herself. “Hoe, you don’t have no directions, no damn discipline, and no damn respect for the man who showed you the ropes,” he roared. Before he was able to control his temper he hauled off and slapped Jean across her face. Little did Jean know that she was his for the rest of her life.

  Jean grabbed her face and then looked back at her seven-year-old son who was pretending to watch cartoons, but was really peeping his father’s game.

  “Don’t you think about it, Jean, if you ever try to take my son away from me I will haunt you down and kill you. Hoe, you’re in this game until I state otherwise. Do or die!” Money threatened Jean.

  Jean’s heart began to race. Although she had some devious ways and snuck around behind Money’s back, she feared him very much. She had seen many hoes come and go. Some went by running away or choosing up with another pimp. Some went by the hands of Money who could never control his bad temper. He was known for pimping hoes and busting heads; he wasn’t to be fucked with.

  Three years later young Blaze was ten years old and every day he watched his mother lie to Money and steal from him. Blaze adored his father and it was evident that he loved his father and favored his father way more than the woman who spent 34 hours in labor birthing him. All of the pain his mother endured and the tears she shed while giving birth to him meant nothing to him. She’d only done one of the things that a woman was supposed to do: Reproduce.

  Money was sitting at the kitchen table counting his cash. When he saw young Blaze enter the kitchen a smile crept across his face. “What’s up, little pimping? What you want to be when you grow up?” Money questioned his only son.

  “A pimp. I’ma pimp these hoes and show them a better world,” Blaze blurted out with a wide smile on his face.

  Money gave his son a pound. “That’s right. Like father like son,” he told him.

  Blaze pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table with his father, watching him count his money. He admired every inch of his father, who was so strong willed and bossy. He idolized his father. The man was everything and beyond to him. He never saw one flaw in his father and never would.

  Money looked up from the pile of money that rested on table. He noticed his son fidgeting with his fingers, as if something was bothering him. “What’s up, little pimping? Everything good?” he asked his son. With the love he had for his son, he would choose Blaze over money and hoes any day. Little did he show it, but his heart stated otherwise.

  Blaze thought about the words he was about to speak before he actually said them. Should he keep his mother’s secret or spill the beans to his father? His options weighed heavy. His father was all he had when his mother was always so busy hugging the block or chasing after men and money.

  “Jean been stealing your money,” Blaze decided to go against the grain of his mother. He was completely brainwashed by his father. He had no loyalty when it came to Jean. He looked at her as a lying backstabber, just as his father called her numerous of times.

  Money raised his eyebrow. His son was never a liar and was trained to be loyal and tell the truth to him at all times. “And how do you know this?”

  “I witness it myself, Pops. I would never lie to you.”

  Money shook his head. He believed every word his son was telling him. “Watch my money,” Money told him before walking off.

  He went upstairs and started tearing up Jean’s room. She was sneaky so he knew the money was well hidden or so she thought it was well hidden. It was no surprise to him that the money was nowhere to be found. He raced into Blaze’s room and flipped the mattress off of the bed. Underneath the box spring was a slit that was covered up with tape. Removing the tape, he dug into the box spring and pulled out wads of money. “Sneaky hoe!” he cursed. He fixed Blaze’s room back the way it was and took the time to clean Jean’s room back up as well. When he was finished it looked just as it did prior to him wrecking it.

  Blaze never once saw his mother hide her money underneath his bed.

  “I'm really going to start beating ass in about five seconds. My money better appear back where it was! That money belonged to Daddy!” Jean screamed as she searched the house high and low, knowing she never had any intentions of giving the money to the rightful owner.

  “What money are you talking about? If you checking everything in to me, how could you be missing anything?” Money questioned Jean.

  Jean stared him in the eyes and stupidity fell over her. She had no explanation for the money she had been stealing. The truth was the last thing that was going to slide out of her full lips.

  Money grabbed Jean by her hair, pulling her into a nearby bedroom. “Bitch, you been stealing from me?” Money questioned.

  He didn’t have to have an answer. Nothing could dignify the reason why she had been stealing from him. From the outside of the room, all you could hear was begging, pleading, and a lot of commotion.

  Blaze put his ear to the other side of the door. Every time he saw the monster coming out of his father, it gave him butterflies and chills at the same time. Being brainwashed by his father, he thought it was totally okay to punish a woman who was disrespectful to a man, especially a pimp. What his mother was getting she had it coming and he thought she deserved every bit of it.

  He began to smile. His mother’s whimpers, cries, and pleas tickled him to death. Before he got caught, he ran off to the living room to sit back in front of the television.

  That night his mother was thrown out on the streets. Money punished her by making her sell her soul to the devil for four days straights with no breaks whatsoever. The cruel punishment that Jean received brought nothing but pure hatred between Money and her. If he were to die tomorrow, she wouldn’t give a damn. She would pay him a visit just to spit on his grave and never turn back. She touched the stove once and got burned yet it didn’t faze her a bit. Months later she was back at thieving yet again.

  ~Chapter 3~

  By the time Blaze’s thirteen birthday came around he’d grown cold hearted and had a hate against certain females; one in particular was his mother. He couldn't stand her ways. At times he couldn't stand to see her pathetic little face. He loved his father to death and never questioned his actions, but he wanted to know why his mother couldn’t be stronger.

  The constant teasing at school was starting to get to him. It was becoming obvious that he was living in a very dysfunctional home. Females who sold their bodies and called his father by the name of Daddy just didn’t sit right with others. It seemed as if everyone thought that his family was a disgrace to society. Blaze could never have friends because they all made fun of him for having such a fucked up lifestyle. None of them understood and Blaze didn't waste any time explaining things to them. He was living a life where only pimps and hoes knew what was going on. The real truth about their society was that they wanted to be a secret but was far it.

  The flashiness, the branded clothing, and the wads of money that Blaze carried around school couldn’t buy him friendship if his life depended on.

  In the middle of Blaze eighth grade year, he dropped out of school. Too much was going on at home and too much drama was going on at school. Sitting in class one day Blaze realized that school was just no longer for him. Right in the middle of his third period English class he decided fuck school. Those under educated motherfuckers wasn’t teaching him shit he couldn’t learn on his on anyway. Without disturbing his English teacher’s lecture, he quietly got up and walked out of class. Exiting the school, he never thought twice about whether he was making a mistake or not.

  “I’ll get my GED,” Blaze told himself. Walking up the front stoop of
his house, Blaze noticed some of his father’s girls sitting on the front porch engaged in a conversation.

  “Don’t you hoes got something better to do?” Blaze hissed. When it came to the girls he had a slick mouth. He was either throwing hurtful comments at them or charming them. His tongue was as slick as his father’s if not slicker. Over the years he’d gained a set up loose lips. He spoke to Money’s hoes badly and none of them dared to tell. They all took the young boy’s disrespect out of honor of Money Mack.

  “What you doing home so early?” Mandy, the youngest of them all, asked.

  “Minding my business.”

  Mandy stared into his eyes. Their eyes locked and for those few seconds it felt like they were magnetically connected. The look in Mandy eyes stated that she was fiending for young Blaze's love. Mandy was a runaway girl who Money had taken under his wings months ago. Her baby face stated that she was no older than sixteen. Money didn’t care. Her pussy had a value and he was going to get that money by all means. The truth was that Mandy was only fifteen years old, but had experienced more things in life than an average thirty year old. She came from an abusive family. Not being able to tolerate the abuse and being molested by her stepfather any longer, she ran away one day and planned on never returning home.

  It was evident that Mandy had a crush on Blaze. He also had one on her, but he took the advice from his father to never fall in love with a hoe. Hoes couldn’t be trusted and they could never be turned into a housewife. That saying that a hoe can't be turned into a housewife was absolutely truth. His mother was living proof of that saying. With that being said, he kept his distance from Mandy, but that never stopped him from yearning for her touch and maybe her love. The heart always knew what the heart wanted

  Blaze opened up the screen door and his ears were filled with profanity. It was obvious that his mother and father were getting into it again. That hoe never knows how to shut up. Always yapping off at the mouth, Blaze thought.

  “AIDS, bitch? You fucking poisoned me!” Money yelled in pain. You could hear the hurt in his voice. He’d just found out hours ago he was infected with one of the most horrible diseases.

  “Oh no! It couldn't be from me. Nigga, I just got tested three weeks ago!” Jean pointed her hands in his face. She swore him up and down that she was clean as a whistle. She even went as far as blaming all the other girls. “You better check them other hoes Money, ‘cause I ain’t the one to be blaming for this shit. No telling who all the fuck you been dipping and dabbing in.” Jean cursed.

  Truth to be told, Jean didn’t know whether or not if she was the one to give Money the bug. The last time she got tested was when she’d given birth to Blaze. Aside from that she gave herself a test. Hell, she looked healthy, she felt good, and she wasn’t walking around all skinny and shit. In her mind that meant she was just fine.

  “Nigga, I AIN’T GOT SHIT! My pussy is C-L-E-A-N!” Jean yelled as she patted her midsection.

  Money stared her up and down then let out a loud disturbing wicked laugh. “Ahahaha! Bitch, you had me going there for a second.” Money wrapped his strong hands that were suited for two around Jean’s frail neck.

  Jean stared into Money’s eyes and saw death. She wished that she could turn back the hands of time. Being money hungry was going to cost her something priceless; something that no amount of money in the world was worth: her life. Jean fought and fought as she gasped for air. There was no way in hell that she was going to be able to free herself from Money’s python grip.

  He never once took his eyes off of her. He stared deep into her grimy soul. He couldn't believe that Jean was a female that he once saw himself settling down with after he retired from the game. “Jean, I don’t sleep with none of my bitches but you. That’s how I know it was you who poisoned me. How could you? Don’t you know that I loved you, Jean?” A single tear slid down Money’s eyes.

  He meant every word that he spoke. He indeed loved Jean, that’s why she was the only hoe that he slept with and the only one he given the privilege of having his child. After all, before she was a hoe she was a square; she was his square. There was a time where he worshiped the ground that Jean walked on.

  Those were the last words that Jean heard from it. They touched her heart dearly. She had rather be loved then to never have been loved before. She’d spent all of her life seeking attention from different men and all she was really searching for was love. Like a crack addict desperately fiending for crack, she was always an addict who was fiending for love. Being placed from foster home to foster home, she was never shown any sort of love. It was sad that she did such horrible things in search of love.

  “I love you too, Money,” her eyes silently spoke back to Money as she gasped for air and caught her last breath. Minutes later, her dead eyes continued to stare Money in his very cold pupils.

  A single tear slid from his left eye and before it was able to hit his cheek he quickly wiped it away. That would be the day, he thought. Never would he get caught crying over a hoe who’d practically just taken his life away from him.

  Blaze burst into the room to see his lifeless mother. He looked from her dead eyes then up at Money. He raced toward his father and began to shove him, but his strength was nothing compared to his fathers. “I hate you!” he cried, still shoving his father with his tiny hands.

  Money grabbed Blaze. He stared into his son eyes and noticed his mixed emotions. “You don’t hate me, son. I had to do this. Your mother has been infected. Her horrible disease can affect many people and can take the lives of innocent people. She infected me, son.”

  Blaze stared his father up and down. How can you talk about taking the lives of innocent people when you destroy lives of young innocent girls? After a minute, he shook his head, coming to some sort of agreement with his father. Money had never steered him wrong before.

  Blaze sat next to his mother and whispered in her ear. “I’m sorry.” Maybe if he had let her leave, instead of always snitching on her, she would still be living. His feelings were all over the place. Deep down inside of his cold little body, love really did live within him.

  ~Chapter 4~

  Six months later…

  Blaze was taking care of his father. He was there to wait on him hand and feet. His father’s immune system was slowly beginning to shut down. Day after day he was getting sicker and sicker, weaker and weaker. Seeing his father going through so much pain made Blaze form a deep hatred for his deceased mother yet again. Up until seeing his father living his last days, he hadn’t fully understood why his father had killed his mother. Now seeing his father dying, he completely understood. His mother was a horrible person whom he felt deserved to die.

  Since Money was no longer able to get out of bed, it was now up to Blaze to take the girls on the hoe stroll. He was now the breadwinner and was taking his father’s position. Money handed his business and knowledge of the game down to his only son. Like father, like son. Each and every day Money would verbally put Blaze onto game down including the pros and the cons, the dos and the don’ts of pimping. Blaze listened to every word his father spoke. His intelligence of the game could either break him or make him.

  Eventually Money’s stable started to deteriorate right along with him. His hoes refused to listen to a child who was just learning the game. Money went from a seven-hoe stable down to a two-hoe stable. Once the main hoe got sick and tired of Blaze, who was young enough to be her grandson, she left too. That now left Money with only young Mandy. Money and Blaze depended on Mandy for everything. Weeks after her peer left, she got busted. That night Blaze sat by his father’s bedside and held his hand.

  “Son,” Money spoke faintly. “There comes a time in life where you have to man up. Become a man and be much stronger. Your days of being a boy are over. You will be sixteen in a few weeks. You made up your mind on what you want to be in life. You’re a pimp by blood. This game is made for you.” Money gasped for air. “Don’t make the same mistakes I made. Always protect yourself
. And never-never fall for a hoe. If you want out of this game, find a loyal woman who is square to this life.”

  Blaze nodded his head up and down agreeing with his father.

  “When I die, bury me next to your mother,” Money told him. “I loved that woman and she still has a place in my heart… I just wish things could have been different.” He gasped again. His lungs were so weak. Every day he felt like he was fighting for his life, just to live another second. The hospitals always sent him home when he went to them complaining about how much pain he was in. His case of AIDS was no longer treatable. They told him that he would probably want to die at home with family rather than to die in a hospital. They were completely right. Money preferred to lie down and die with his son next to him; the only person in the world that he had left to love and the only person who always remained loyal to him.

  “Son, my throat is dry. Please go grab me a cup of ice cold water,” Money requested.

  Blaze stared down at his father as if he didn’t want to leave him. He let go of his hand and went to retrieve the water. He wished that there were something he could do to save his father’s life. Blaze returned with the cup of ice cold water as requested. He sat the cup on the stand that beside his father’s bed and turned to him. “Dad,” Blaze spoke.

  His father appeared to be resting. Blaze stared down at his father’s 82 pounds frame. In months the deadly disease had caused his father, who had once weighed 285 pounds, to drop all the way down to 82 pounds soak and wet. Blaze noticed that Money’s chest was no longer heaving up and down like it usually was doing. He placed his hands over his father’s frail chest. He no longer felt the faint heartbeat.