Sweetest Revenge

Prologue

- Monica –

I sat on the basketball court bleachers forcing myself not to pull at the little skirt that barely covered my butt. I was going to lose my nerves. What I was attempting was so far past crazy I began to doubt myself.

Oh goodness! If I was caught my Nana would never see me again! My death would probably be bloody and painful! I couldn't do this! What was wrong with me? I was getting ready to get myself killed!

I stood clutching my book-bag to my chest which had enough rock cocaine in it to get me sent to prison for a long time. But then a memory of my big brother by one year, Man-Man, surfaced. He was smiling down at me as he handed me one of Nana's honey buns that were stashed up high in her closet. She thought we didn't know about them. She busted us and he took all the blame. Boy, Nana tore him up!

I eased back down to the bleachers, remembering why I was doing this.

My brother was dead! Murdered!

And the man responsible was down there standing on the sideline, larger than life, watching his younger brother play in a four-on-four hood tournament. Although this event was big in the hood, and Rasheed his younger brother was something of a hood legend, being the biggest and most violent drug dealer this side of town, the groupies were not here to see Rasheed.

No, they were all here to see Kaleb. If Rasheed was the prince around these parts, then Kaleb the was king. Who, rumor had it, was not only the power behind Rasheed but also had his hands in everything from prime real estate to being the money behind several big named record labels here in the Chi. But what he was known for was The King and Sons' Classic Car Restoration Shop.

The story goes, their father, whose name was King, was this big-time drug dealer in his day. And to hide all the money he had coming in, he opened a classic car restoration shop in downtown Chicago. Anyway, the shop gets so big it is said that it was bringing in just as much money, if not more than his dope empire. Needless to say, King did well with the business.

Kaleb, however, has taken it to another level. Their shop had become the place to take your classic car amongst our people. And not just hood rich folks either. Big time rappers have shot their music videos at the shop. They rapped about driving their fresh whip off the lot. Hell, even the mayor joked about having to leave a press conference early, because he was going to pick up his '69 Cutlass that had been restored at The King and Sons. They say the waiting list is like eight years out to even get a quote.

Hmm! Yeah, the women were not here like this to see Rasheed. He was a regular on the block. His older brother was not. So, whenever Kaleb was spotted in the neighborhood, folks surrounded him as if he was a king. And tonight, there was going to be a party at his place. So yeah, the chickens were out.

I looked around at all the women who were here dressed like I was, hoping to be picked by one of the party promoters, who believe it or not, were moving around the park handing invites to certain girls. Certain girls that looked like they were down for whatever. Pretty girls. Scantily dressed girls. And they were cheesing and smiling as if they had just won the damn lottery.

Silly women!

I, on the other hand, was dressed like a whore because I was getting ready to bring down the untouchable. And trust me, being dressed in a mini-skirt that left most of my legs and thighs exposed, and a crop-top that exposed my stomach and hung low on one side exposing my shoulder was not easy. And to top it all off, I was not wearing a bra. I let my long locs fall to cover the side of my face.

I'm not going to lie. I was hiding behind them, letting my body do all the work for me.

Hell yeah, I was ashamed that I was using my body this way. I could only imagine what my Nana or big sister Stormy would say if they saw me dressed this way.