I had dreams. Big ass dreams. I wasn’t one of these regular, Miami bitches, where their only goal in life was to fuck one of these rappers, ball players, or dope boys. Shit, I was trying to get put on with the dope boys and make money with them. I don’t care if I have to start out on the corner. Being on that corner will move me up. I’m talking working with the big boys, doing distribution, supply, and one day getting so good at this shit that it leads to ownership. I’m trying to have oversees connects. I gotta be the Street Heiress of Miami.
“Alright Riot. Do you, boo. You know Uzi, right?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know her personally. I just know of her,” I responded.
Uzi used to be on the same kind of shit that I was trying to be on. She used to move weight with her sister and her dad. She was a cold ass bitch. The kind of bitch that I’m trying to be.
“Okay well, while you were locked up, she announced something big on social media. Lately, the crime rate here in Miami has been at an all-time high, and it’s mainly women that’s been getting knocked off. She saw that problem and decided that she wanted to do something about it. She’s about to start this class for women,” she voiced.
“What kind of class?” I wanted to know.
“It’s a little bit of everything, honestly. Teaching women about self- defense, how to property use a firearm, disciple, awareness, all those things. I signed you up for it,” she said, and I looked at her like she was crazy.
The look that I gave her had her cracking up. It’s almost like she knew that I was going to react this way, and that’s why she was laughing.
“You had to pay for that? You might as well get your money back. Fuck I look like? I don’t need nobody teaching me self-defense. I been beating bitches asses since I was old enough to know what my hands were for. I know how to shoot a gun. I don’t need help in that department. I’m thinking she was about to offer some kind of class for women in the drug game, since she used to be a part of it. I’m good. You can take my spot,” I let her know, and it was written all over her face that she was annoyed with me.
“I know you hate when a bitch starts acting like I’m your mama, but Riot, your ass is going to take this motha fuckin class! You need structure. You haven’t been in the car with me for more than thirty minutes, and I can already tell that you’re on the same bullshit that you were on before you went in. The rate that you’re going, your ass is going to be back in jail, or somewhere dead. You need to be a part of that class because it’s going to have structure, and that’s something that your ass needs. You need to learn discipline and patience. You have all this anger built up inside of you, and I feel like going to the gun range, and out in the woods shooting is the outlet that your ass needs. You lack fuckin guidance too, so you need that shit as well. I already paid for the class. It starts Monday morning at 5:00 A.M. I bet your ass be right there,” she snapped.
I tuned her out, deciding not to say anything else about it. We drove in silence the rest of the way to my mom’s shop. The more that I sat here, and I thought about it, I guess taking the class wouldn’t be so bad after all. I just didn’t want to be a part of something where a bitch was in my face, screaming at me and shit, thinking that she was my mama. I didn’t want to feel like I was being controlled. I just got out of jail, where niggas controlled what time I had to piss, go to sleep, and eat.
Trying to control me was the quickest way to have me fucked up. I looked at Uzi as a gangsta bitch, and I loved that she wasonce a woman in the drug game, but at the same time, I’ve never been the type to sit back, and let another bitch punk me, so I could only hope that this wasn’t what her class was going to be about.
Chapter 2
Riot St. James
We were pulling up to my mama’s salon, and no lie, I was a little nervous. Fuckin around with my mama, this shit could go one of two ways. Me and her were either going to be good, or we were going to be bad. When my mama and I would be bad, shit could go to hell quickly. I had a ghetto ass mama, that would black out when it came to me, so we’ve been through our fair share of shit together. Both had a lot of trauma. She lost her husband and her son. I lost my daddy and my brother. Both running around with trauma that was unhealed, and we’ve never sat down and got the professional help that we needed. I said before that I put my mama through a lot. She used to have me so fucked up, that I would run away, and with that, she would call the cops on me, and once they found me, they would put my ass in juvenile detention.
I knew that my mama loved me, but I also knew that I wasn’t shit like the daughter she would have wanted. I’m sure she thought that she was going to have a prissy daughter that acted just like her, but I was the complete opposite.
“You know how auntie Keyshawn is. Me, and you damn near just went at it, and I don’t feel like I went in as hard as I could, so I can only imagine what your mama going to do when she sees you. Whatever you do Bean, just try not to argue with her. You know she loves you, and that she only wants the best for you,” Ari felt the need to make a disclaimer, and I nodded my head towards that, not going to really say too much.
We were finally in the plaza where my mom’s salon was. Her salon was called ‘Crowned by Key’. My mom has been doing hair all my life. She specialized in healthy hair. She didn’t do wigs, braids, or all the other extra shit. She was the silk press killer. You could come to her with the most damaged hair, and she would get you right. She had growing hands. I’ve never gone to anyone else professionally to do my hair because my mom has always done it for me. If it wasn’t for her, I know for a fact that my hair would have been damaged and fallen out years ago because I really didn’t keep up with it. I was known for rocking a bun, a ponytail, or just simply throwing a hat on.
Right there in the owners parking spot, I noticed that there was a matte gray AMG GLE 53 coupe parked. That shit was nice. I was obsessed with the black rims on it. The GLE 53 was one of my favorite cars.
“That’s my mama car? I talk to her every day, and she didn’t say shit about getting a new car,” I voiced, my eyes stuck on the beautiful car that was in the parking lot.
“You know she didn’t like to tell you good news while you were locked up because she didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out on something. She just got it like a month ago. Major got it for her,” she responded.
I groaned at the sound of the man that had gotten my mom a new car.
Major was her boyfriend. They got together like two years ago. I didn’t know him enough to really speak on him, but I justdidn’t care for the nigga. Ari knew that I didn’t care for him, and that’s why she started laughing.
From the little bit that I paid attention to, when my mom told me about Major for the first time two years ago, I knew that he had his own private aviation company. Basically, he owned a private jet charter company, and it was based right out of Opa- Locka. I knew that he did well financially. Shit, the six-figure car that was parked in the parking lot was proof that he was doing well. I swear I wasn’t a hater or no shit like that. If a man was making my mama happy, I fully supported that. I just never saw my mama with a man before. Growing up, losing my father really took a toll on her, so she never brought niggas around me, and my brother. If she was dating, I really wouldn’t know because she kept it private, and away from us.
“Your ass is so fuckin mean. Major is a good dude, Riot. He treats your mama so good. Her ass is spoiled rotten by him too. Wait until you see the inside of her shop. He had it renovated for her, so it looks completely different on the inside. Come on. I know she’s ready to see you,” she finished, shutting the car off.
Instead of letting Ari go around, and grabbing Amir from the back, I was the one to open the back door for my little cousin. He was quick with taking off his seatbelt, grabbing his iPad, and I held my hand out for him to take it. Now that he was out, I held his hand in mine, walking towards the door of my mom’s salon.
It was after nine in the morning, so she was opened already. I was able to walk right in. Just like Ari told me in the car, this salon looked completely different. Literally, the expensive marble tile on the floor, the fancy artwork, the salon chairs were all proof that a lot of money was put into these changes.
There were about four stylist here that worked alongside my mom, and they were the first ones to see me, since their booths were closer to the front. There was no secret that I had beenlocked up, so each of the ladies smiled at me, and welcomed me back home.
My mom’s booth was closer to the back, and right now, it was empty. I didn’t see her, or hear her, and right when I was getting ready to ask where she was, she quickly rounded the corner.
“I just put the hair towels in the dryer. They should be ready in another thirty minutes and?—”
