Hood Misfits, Volume 1 Read Online Free Page A

gun on my wrists then forearms had me in purple haze as sex scented the air and, “ Ohhh , Trigga . . .” flooded my ears.

Ray-Ray
    When I opened my eyes, the room started to spin. I knew I was no longer in a closet because there was light. The bed I was laying on was soft, almost like a cloud. The lower part of my back hurt from where that nigga had put his knee, and my neck hurt from that big burly grizzly bear-looking nigga sending me head first into the wall. Shit, my whole body hurt.
    I could hear music and feel the bass thumping from the speakers. The first thing I would have done was try to run away, but I couldn’t even sit up straight. Where was I? How would I get away? I couldn’t front like a bitch wasn’t terrified. I was so scared, I was shaking, but when I realized I was only in my bra and panties, my senses quickly came together.
    I jumped up from the bed and grabbed between my legs like I had a dick. Everything felt normal. I didn’t want to be raped or none of that shit. I didn’t want a nigga’s dick in me who I didn’t know shit about. I looked around the room in a panic. It wasn’t what I was expecting. The marble floors, decked-out bedroom suite, bay windows with attached balcony, and flowing sheer panels to the windows told me I was in place of money. The walls were cream colored and trimmed in gold, and an expensive-looking rug lay at the foot of the bed.
    I did notice the room had another queen-sized bed in there. That was how big it was. To the left was a big walk-in closet. I knew that because someone had left the door open. There were all kinds of expensive shit in there—clothes, shoes, purses, belts, lace-front wigs. There was another closed door. I could hear two people behind it oohing and aahing; it sounded like they were having sex.
    I could hear chicks in the next room screaming out something about Trigga, the muthafucka who had knocked me out. He was on my hit list. I’d kill his ass too. Just like I was going to kill the muthafucka with the deep, raspy voice. And I was going to murk whoever the fuck Dame was.
    Yeah, my mama and daddy were foul as fuck in their dealings, but they’d sheltered me from the shit most times. Other times, I made myself disappear, reading a book or jumping ahead in my homework studies. My daddy always told me keep my head in my books and out their business. Which was what I did.
    As I thought about my mama and my daddy, my fear was replaced with anger. I dropped my weak body back down to the bed and placed my head between my legs. The tears started, and they wouldn’t stop. I cried loudly and didn’t care who heard me. I didn’t think they could hear me over the loud-ass music anyway.
    â€œOh shit,” a female’s voice said after I heard the bathroom door swing open.
    â€œWhat?” a male’s voice asked.
    â€œThis new bitch is up. Dame wanted me to make sure she bathed and put some clothes on. You know that nigga like his new pussy fresh for him,” the woman said.
    â€œBut I ain’t even bus’ yet.”
    â€œNigga, put ya dick away and get the fuck out. Let me handle daddy’s business, or else I’ma tell ’im you dipping and ain’t tipping.”
    The dude sucked his lips and grumbled something about her playing with his dick later.
    I slowly lifted my head and took in the woman, who looked older than me. Light-skin with a long blonde weave that hung down her back, she had an abundance of ass, but not nearly enough titties. She looked like a stripper. The red leather catsuit she had on hugged her pussy and made it sit out like a moose knuckle. Her berry-colored lips were plush, and her makeup was done like she was prepping for a photo shoot or some shit. I could tell she had blue contacts in her almond-shaped eyes. She was pretty, and when she smiled at me, I almost felt safe. Almost. But I knew this game. A smiling face could mean your death around