The Kat Trap

“The fuck she is,” I snapped. “Not after findin’ out that bitch was fuckin’ Naheem.”

“Oh, damn, my bad. That shit slipped my mind.”

“Well, it didn’t slip mine,” I said. “That bitch got just what the fuck she deserved. I wish I coulda dropped her ass first. But it’s all good. I’ma be front and center when that bitch gets sentenced, trust. And then I’ma go pay her ass a visit when they ship her ass up the river—and knock her dead in her grill.”

“Oooh, Kat, you wouldn’t,” Chanel said, shocked.

“Then I guess you don’t really know me. That slut crossed the line. It woulda been different if I didn’t know the bitch, but she was frontin’ like we were all fly ’n whatnot. Oh, no, that bitch got a ass whippin’ comin’ to her special delivery.”

“I wonder if she’s gonna be able to post bail.”

“Probably not,” I said. “That ho was too busy splurgin’ on bullshit to be thinkin’ ’bout stackin’ her ends. All I know is the bitch had better not call me askin’ for no change to help her with shit—especially not after findin’ out ’bout her and Naheem—’cause the answer is gonna be Hell, muthafuckin’ no, trick-ass bitch! I don’t support or sponsor stupidity. And I damn sure ain’t gonna ride with a bitch who had the dick of a nigga I was fuckin’ with stuck down in her throat. Fuck what ya heard. Anyway, if a bitch gonna ride dirty, then a bitch better have her paper stacked and a legal team all lined up and ready to roll, in case her ass gets popped.”

“I heard that,” Chanel said, soundin’ like she was deep in thought. She was probably feelin’ sorry for the ho.

“Look, let me get off this phone. I’ma take a few hits off this blunt, then take it down. Call me tomorrow. Maybe we can do lunch or somethin’ one day this week.”

“Now that sounds like a plan,” she said. I could almost see her greedy ass droolin’. “You treatin’, right?”

“Damn, bitch,” I replied, laughin’. “You always tryna get a handout. I need to start puttin’ ya man-eatin’ ass out on the stroll.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she said, laughin’.

As soon as I hung up from her the Kat line started ringin’. I rolled my eyes, takin’ a deep breath.

“Yes, Cash,” I answered.

“I got a day trip; you want it?”

“Where?” I asked, lightin’ my blunt, takin’ two long pulls, then blowin’ the smoke out slowly.

“Baltimore. And I need for you to be able to get in and get out, not try to turn the shit into a week-long production.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, nigga.”

“I’m serious, Kat. The nigga done fucked up some major paper and the cats he crossed want his ass fried, ASAP. He’s down in B-more for some type of meeting.”

“When you need it done?”

“Tomorrow night at the latest.”

“Send me the paperwork with my money,” I said, puffin’ on the blunt. Damn this shit was good. I blew smoke outta the side of my mouth. Although I wasn’t in the mood for fuckin, maybe I’d suck the nigga’s dick, or just get my pussy ate out. I just hoped his grill wasn’t wrecked and his body was on point. I hated them fat, nasty-lookin’ muhfuckas with the big-ass titties, double-wide stomachs, and tiny link-sausage dicks. Humph. “I hope you not sendin’ me no bullshit either.”

He laughed.

“I’m not laughin’, nigga. After that white man stunt, I gotta stay on ya black ass to make sure you don’t try ’n clown me again.”

“I got you, baby,” he said, still laughin’ all hysterical ’n shit.

I was startin’ to get pissed. “Hahaha, hell, muhfucka.”

“See, if ya freaky ass handled shit without all the extras it wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Whatever,” I said, suckin’ my teeth. I took two more pulls from my blunt, held the smoke in my lungs, then blew it out.

“Look,” he said, gettin’ all serious, “like I told you before, I don’t care how you handle ya business. Do you. I just need this shit handled quickly. You the only one on the team I let turn down jobs ’cause you don’t like how a muhfucka looks. Go figure.”

I had to chuckle to myself. “Well, that’s what happens when you got the hottest bitch on ya squad.”

“Yeah, aiight,” he said, laughin’. “You hot alright. Hot in that fat ass of yours. Now you gonna handle this shit or what?”

“Didn’t I tell ya ass to send me the muhfucka’s shit? Geesh.”

“It’ll be there later tonight. Get in and get out, Kat. No field trips until after you take care of this.”

I rolled my eyes up in my head, frownin’. “Nigga, please…what the fuck I look like tryna make a field trip outta goin’ down to Baltimore? Ain’t shit down there I wanna see.”

“Good, ’cause like I said, I need the shit handled.”

“Alright, I heard you the first time. What the fuck?!”

“Kat, what I tell you ’bout your mouth?”

“You make sure you send my paper along with his shit, nigga.”

“You’se a crazy bitch. You know that, right?”

“That’s already been established,” I answered. “Now beat it. I got shit to do.”

“Aye, yo, Kat, keep poppin’ shit, aiight.”

“Cash,” I said, lettin’ out a deep breath, “kiss my fat ass.”

“As long as I can slam this dick up in it when I’m finished,” he said, laughin’.

I let out a disgusted sigh and hung up on his ass. That nigga better be very careful what he asks for, I thought, headin’ upstairs to make my travel plans and pack an overnight bag. The muhfucka might end up gettin’ more than what he bargained for.

Scary thing, the idea of fuckin’ him, then puttin’ a bullet in his skull, was startin’ to get more and more appealin’ to me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Come on in from off the block…remove ya hoodie ’n Timbs…drop ya boxers…lay back…relax… let’s smoke some trees…chill for a while…close ya eyes…free ya mind…listen to the tick of the clock…while I drop to my knees…I’m here to give ya what ya body needs…let a real bitch climb up on ya dick…wet it nice ’n slow…lose ya’self in this pussy heat…call my name, nigga…let Kat spill ya nuts…betta get it while ya can…’cause I’m a ’bout to open ya guts…

It was almost seven-thirty p.m., and I had just turned left onto Monument Street and was makin’ my way toward the Peabody Court Hotel in the Mount Vernon section of Baltimore. Instead of takin’ that borin’-ass three-hour drive, I flew into the Baltimore–Washington International Airport, and had the first flight outta there in the mornin’. I didn’t even bother tellin’ Grant I was outta town since I was gonna be back in Jersey long before he even realized I was ghost. Besides, it really wasn’t any of his fuckin’ business. But, just in case the nigga called tryna come through, I decided I was gonna tell ’im I was out chillin’ with my girls.

I pulled up in front of the hotel entrance in my rental, then got out and grabbed my overnight bag. I handed the keys to the valet, then made my way into the hotel lobby.

“Hello, welcome to the Peabody,” the perky white chick said, greetin’ me with a wide, toothy smile. She was a cute blonde chick with big-ass teeth. Humph. She reminded me of Mr. Ed ’round that mouthpiece.

“Hi,” I said, givin’ her a phony-ass grin. “I have a reservation.” I gave her my name, slidin’ my bogus ID to her.

She clicked the computer keys with her long fingas, pullin’ up my information. “Ah, yes, Ms. Carmichael. Here you are.” She clicked the keys a few more times, then waited for the room printout. “There’s a package here for you as well,” she said, handin’ me back my ID.