The Plug Next Door 3

Prologue

Y ou sorry ass bitch! Young shouted as he tightened his grip around Alexa’s tiny neck.

He didn’t want to bruise her face because he had promised her that he would never hit her again. It took everything inside of him to hold true to his word.

Yoooo! someone in the crowd shouted. He chokin’ the shit outta that bitch!

Alexa wrapped her hands around Young’s tight grip. He was squeezing her neck tightly, preventing oxygen from getting to her lungs. She could feel her chest heaving as she tried desperately to suck in air. There was little she could do with her hands to release his death grip from her neck, so she did the only thing left for her to do; she spat at him.

If this was it, she thought, I ain’t goin’ down without a fight.

The spit hit Young in his eye, and it only served to anger him more. It brought back flashbacks of a past time that he thought he’d long suppressed. It reminded him of his first love, Cherelle, and how she had done the exact same thing.

I’mma kill yo’ ass! Young seethed, squeezing tighter.

Now even more desperate after her spitting gambit failed, Alexa was down to her last resort… she dug her nails into his face as deeply as she could bury them. Then she went on to scratch out his eyeballs, causing him to release his grip.

Fuckin’ bitch! Young roared.

Fuck you, nigga! Alexa shouted back. All these other hoes might be scared of you, but I ain’t!

Young nodded and touched his finger to his face where she had dug deep into his skin. He examined the blood on his hands and let out a devilish grin before rearing back and slapping Alexa into next week. His hard strike caused her to stumble back, but she didn’t fall.

You wanna take it there, bitch? Young barked. You wanna draw blood? You wanna fight me like a nigga? Come on then, let’s do this shit.

Young grabbed Alexa by her hair and pulled her face close to his. So you out here strippin’ huh? You wanna let these niggas feel on you, touch on your ass, grab your pussy and shit? Who the fuck you think I am? You wanna play me like I’m some mothafuckin’ clown? Niggas up in the club feeling all on my bitch, and then you wanna step out in public with me and have mothafuckas laughing in my face. Got errbody lookin’ at me like I’m crazy! They looking at me like I’m a sucka, like I’m a fuckin’ Captain Save A Hoe!

Alexa swung wildly, managing to connect with the same eye that she had just tried to dig out. The blow made Young lose it.

Oh, you think I’m a bitch? he growled. Is that what this is? You wanna play a nigga like I’m a fuckin’ bitch?

Young began to pummel Alexa’s face with his fists. Fuck his promise to her. Forget about everything they had talked about and been through. That shit was all gone out the window. He had nothing to lose. In fact, he felt like all of the money and time he had invested into her lying ass was a loss. He felt deceived, betrayed, and played.

This how you gonna do a nigga? he asked, throwing another punch.

I’m sorryyyy, Alexa coughed out blood.

YOU NOT FUCKIN’ SORRY! THE ONLY REASON YOU SAYING THAT SHIT IS ‘CAUSE YO HOE ASS GOT CAUGHT.

Young’s punches were swift and brutal. He was raging mad, and all of his emotions were pouring out of his body with each blow of his fist. Alexa felt betrayed as well. The two saw this situation totally different.

When Young saw her onstage, he thought of her not as a dancer, but as a prostitute. She was exchanging her body for other men’s pleasure in his eyes. Alexa viewed it otherwise. She was not letting men fuck her; she was just trying to be independent. Young’s fury was nothing but a betrayal to her, and she wasn’t going to take another ass whooping lying down.

Alexa swung and fought with just as much fury as Young was swinging with. Though she wasn’t as strong as a man and her blows may not have been as powerful as his, she made sure that Young knew he was in a fight. She used everything that she had; teeth, nails, fist, feet, everything. If Young was going to be a guerilla, she was going to be the queen hyena; Alexa was going to be just as savage.

Oooooo, sang the rowdy onlookers.

The crowd moved in closer, enjoying every second of the bloody lover’s quarrel. They had originally come to see asses shaking, and while an MMA style blood match wouldn’t get their dicks hard, they would leave just as satisfied. You could hear the guys in the crowd talking about what they would do if it had been their girl on stage.

C’mere bitch!

Young grabbed Alexa, lifted her into the air and slammed her onto the DJ’s table, causing the music to stop and the club to go completely silent. The edge of the table struck Alexa’s back, making her cry out in pain. He rose his foot and went to stomp a hole in her stomach, but was grabbed by Nas.

Young! Alexa screamed at the top of her lungs. It was the cry of a wounded beast.

She had fought back with all her strength. The poor girl was black and blue, bloody and bruised, filled with pain. The pain that she felt most, though, wasn’t physical. She peered out of her rapidly swelling eyes and watched as Young was hauled toward the exit.

Young! Alexa screamed again. She couldn’t move. She tried with all of her might to will herself to get up, but the strength was simply not there. Alexa could do nothing but lay her head down and cry. Baby, pleeease, come back!

Yo, what the fuck was that? Nas asked, releasing Young from a headlock once outside of the club.

Man fuck that shit! Young hollered. That hoe is canceled, bruh. He turned toward the club’s entrance and yelled at the closed door like she could hear him. You hear that, bitch? Yo’ ass is fuckin’ canceled! It’s over!

Man, are you trying to get us sent to fuckin’ jail tonight? Nas asked angrily. You know you just caught a fucking case, right? You know that right? You just caught a hoe bashin’ case!

I’on give a fuck! Young shouted. His hands were trembling with rage. He wiped away the blood that was running down his face. Fuckin’ bitch! I’mma kill her ass!

Bruh, you need to calm the fuck down.

Young was furiously shaking his head. I gotta let that hoe go! I gotta get that hoe outta my life. That bitch better stay as far away from me as possible.

Nas wrapped his arm around his brother’s neck. It’s all good, man. It’s all good.

Man, I gave that hoe everything! Young shouted, pushing away from Nas. Whatever that bitch wanted, all she had to do was ask, and it was hers. And this is how she gonna play me?

Yo, man… Nas started. She gonna do what she gonna do. You know how she is, Alexa’s always had a strong head. She’s grown, and you can’t tell her what to do with her body.

Yeah, but what about me? She got a nigga out here looking crazy as a mothafucka! Young said, shaking his head. Everybody in the goddamn city knows my bitch is a stripper hoe now.

Jerrod, one of the squad members, walked out of the club with a few other fellas. They were crying laughing about the entire ordeal. Upon seeing Nas and Young in the parking lot, he pointed, said something slick, and they all started laughing harder. He walked up to Young.

Yo, Bossman, I’m thinking about hiring shorty for my birthday party, Jerrod said, flinging his arm around Young’s shoulders. How much yo’ girl charge for private parties? Whatever it is, I know she’s worth it. That pussy was pretty as a mothafucka!

Without thinking, Young shoved Jerrod to the ground and pulled out his nine-millimeter. What the fuck you just say ‘bout my bitch? he asked, cocking his weapon.

Nothin’ dawg! Jerrod contested, surrendering his hands. I was just fuckin’ around.

Say it again, Young demanded.

On God, I was just playing.

Nah, fuck that, ain’t no mothafuckin’ playin’, bitch. Say that shit again.

Dawg, c’mon, I didn’t mean shit by it! Jerrod shouted, turning his gaze on Nas. Yo, Nas, tell ’em I was just fuckin’ around!

Call my bitch a hoe, Young insisted. Tell me how pretty her pussy is again.

C’mon, man! Please, I got a daughter at home!

Good, now she can grow up without her daddy and start stripping and selling pussy too! If I’m fortunate enough to still be on the streets when the lil bitch turns into a hoe, I’mma give her this dick and make sure she calls me Daddy, Young said with a smile. He then squeezed the trigger once, allowing a single, echoing pop to permeate the air. The blood from Jerrod’s brain caused the white snow to turn a deep crimson red.

Clean this shit up, Young spewed to the rest of them. He then turned to Nas. Let’s get the fuck outta here.

Nas and Young headed to their wheels. What the fuck you do that for? Nas asked when they were out of earshot.

I can’t tolerate any disrespect, Young replied, tucking his gun away. Especially not after tonight. I gotta let these hoe ass niggas know off top. That body I just caught is on Alexa. That shit was her fault. She’s the reason that nigga thought he could disrespect, and she’s the reason I gotta send a clear message in the streets. Ain’t no bitch or nigga finna try me like that.

It always comes down to that, don’t it? Nas asked through a chuckle.

Respect? Young quizzed, climbing onto his bike.

Pussy, Nas told him. It’s always pussy that gets niggas fucked off.

Pussy won't be the end of me, he assured, tossing his helmet over his head.

When Young sped off with his brother’s words in mind, he wasn’t just leaving the club behind. His relationship with Alexa was being left in the dust as well. He still had love for shorty, but if he kept dealing with her, he’d end up dead or in jail. After being on the streets so long, he knew who and what was worth the effort. His relationship with Alexa wasn’t valuable enough to play himself out of position.

1

I BLAME YOU

Ecclesiastes 3: To everything, there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven; 2 a time to be born, and a time to die…

Adark rainy night, that was the only thing God could recall about being in Chicago. At some point, he’d fainted, and according to Sloan, he was out for a while. That had never happened to him before, but he chalked the bizarre occurrence up to him being under high stress during his and Reese’s phone call. Now, he was in New York at Mount Sinai holding on to his daughter’s limp hand.

Oh, how he wished this were a bad dream.

Felicia was gone, something he couldn’t fathom coming to grips with. His baby was cold to the touch, her motionless eyes glossed over, making it painfully obvious that he was too late. She had left this earth without giving him the chance to say goodbye, and that was something God would never live down. The fact that he’d been laid up with some bitch while his child was fighting for her life made his heart ache.

Exhaling deeply, Reese pushed the door open and walked into the hospital suite. She looked down at her bloodstained purple scrubs as remnants of how Felicia’s blood transfusion went bad replayed in her mind. In all her years as a doctor, she’d never seen a patient lose so much blood from an injury due to a fall.

Reese looked up from her shirt, glancing at a sulking God. I had a conversation with the chief of staff, and he’s going to allow you another day with your daughter before she’s sent down for an autopsy, she announced as she strolled over to where Felicia lay lifeless.

God’s sight was blurred by tears, his hearing distorted by the voices in his head, so he wasn’t listening to Reese. Daddy, how could you let me die? Felicia asked, or at least it sounded like her in his deranged mind.

I don’t know, baby girl. Daddy did everything he could, he replied, not realizing he was talking to himself.

Blinking rapidly, he tried clearing his vision to get a better look at his daughter lying there motionless—literally ripped from his motherfucking life, and there was nothing he could do about it. Not a damn thing except for cry.

He did not care about breaking down in front of Dolly and Reese, who were also standing at Felicia’s bedside. He did not care about seeming pathetic. God didn’t give a single fuck about anything but his child as he placed his hand over her chest, which did not rise and fall like it normally did. He was in denial.

Warm tears fell from his eyes, splashing down onto her doll-like face as he used his free hand to close her lids. Out of all the losses in my life, yours hurts the most, Licia baby. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here, he spoke softly to her corpse, causing both Reese and Dolly to tear up. I umm, I have a lot of shit to say, but I can’t… I just can’t believe yo’ sorry ass mother let you fall down the steps. He needed to blame somebody for this shit.

But it wouldn’t be Dolly because she couldn’t stand to hear any more. She tossed her hands over her damp face and ran out of the hospital suite to get as far away from him as possible. Losing her daughter was already hard enough, she didn’t need her husband to rub salt into the wound.

God, did you really have to say that? She’s going through– Reese started.

Hold up! Wait a minute, he cut her off in a heartbeat, glaring at her from opposite the hospital bed. I’m not really sure why the fuck your mouth is even open right now. You let this shit happen. He pointed an accusing finger at Reese and then at the door. You and that sorry ass, irresponsible ass bitch who just left the room. Y’all let my fuckin’ daughter die, and now you got some shit to say? How did this even happen? Tell me that since you wanna talk so fuckin’ bad.

Her insides darkened with gloom. Reese hated to repeat Felicia’s cause of death. She suffered from a—

DON’T YOU SPEAK THAT HICKORY DOC SHIT TO ME RIGHT NOW, WOMAN, he roared, rattling the walls around them. DON’T YOU FUCKIN’ DO THAT.

Listen, I know this is a devastating time for you, but if you would just calm down.

Calm down, a combination of words that made God want to reach for his strap. His brain pounded in his head with murderous intent, temples pulsing, veins popping out of his neck. He was no longer sad; the man was outraged. Unable to think rationally. His daughter was lying dead on a hospital bed, and his girlfriend wanted him to calm down.

Calm down? he asked, needing to hear how the words sounded aloud. They rang out foolishly in his ears just as he assumed. Did you just tell me to calm down? Does that make any sense to you, or is that what you tell all of your patients to do? My baby is just another one that bites the dust, huh? A typical day on the job for Dr. Vaughn. Is that what this is to you?

Reese gulped hard. His accusation was a hard pill to swallow. Of course not. She was your baby girl, and I know how much she meant to you.

You don’t know shit. All them fancy ass Harvard degrees you got, and yo’ ass couldn’t save my fuckin’ child?

Excuse me? she snarled incredulously. This nigga had a lot of nerve. "While you’re pointing fingers at everyone else, what the hell took you so long to get here, huh? What was so important in Chicago that you didn’t make it in time to see your child?"

What the fuck are you tryna say?

Nothing. Just forget it, she conceded and tossed her hands in the air, knowing that God already felt bad enough. How about we both relax so I can explain what happened?

That set him off to no end. I’ll show yo’ ass how relaxed I can get.

Seeing flashes of red, next thing God knew, he had Reese up against a wall with his hands wrapped around her neck. She kept slapping at his wrists, fighting for him to let go, but her efforts were futile. God wasn’t in a rational state. He listened to her gag and watched the light dim from her eyes as he choked the life out of her.

You better watch your fuckin’ mouth before I bust that shit wide open, he cautioned, wanting nothing more than to crush her windpipe. That’s your problem now. You talk too goddamn much. Had you not been running yo’ fuckin’ mouth, Felicia would prolly still be alive.

Then he released his hold, letting her drop to the ground and gasp for oxygen. As Reese massaged her throbbing neck and wheezed, she looked on as God glanced up at the ceiling. To witness the man that she loved come undone right before her eyes was one of the worst things she’d ever seen.

You see what I just did, baby girl. Daddy’s not a good person without you. Don’t you know that?

He was cracking up, going crazy while Reese could only sit idly by and watch. She couldn’t stand to see him in such a position. How was he ever going to come back from this?

2

FOOLISH

A time to heal…

Alexa gently dabbed the Beautyblender against her tender flesh, packing on foundation to cover the purple bruise underneath her eye. She sighed upon finishing her make-up. Her reflection in the mirror pained her, flooding her already shambled mind with memories of how she’d gotten her ass whooped the previous night.

What’s the point? she spoke aloud to herself, tossing the pink sponge on the bathroom sink. No matter how many layers of MAC's Studio Fix Plus she applied to her face, the awful reminder of Young putting his hands on her was still there.

She wasn’t ignorant to all the well-known myths about abusive men… Alexa realized the possibility of Young striking her again, but she’d made herself believe that he’d never revert to his old ways. As if it really mattered, she loved the ‘looney’ nigga too much to ever leave him. She loved him enough to sweep his latest attack under the rug for the sake of staying with him.

After all, she was the one who pushed him over the edge in the first place. Alexa’s lies had caught up with her when she least expected it. Not only did she realize the magnitude of living a double life, but she was woman enough to admit that Young’s actions were justifiable.

If she were completely honest with herself, she would’ve reacted the same way had the shoe been on the other foot. Sure enough, she would’ve fucked her man up had she found out that he was swinging his dick on a pole for random women after lying and saying he worked for Amazon. She’d committed the ultimate betrayal, and Young had gone back on his word by hitting her again. They were both wrong on so many levels, but she wasn’t ready to wave the white flag just yet.

The moment her boyfriend was dragged out the club by Nas was when it dawned on her. A light bulb went off in her head. I can’t lose him, she told herself. That’s how she ended up in her