Trife Life To Lavish (A King Production Presents...) Read online

  "I don't want to hear your fuckin' excuses. That's what yo' problem is. You so damn hard headed and neva want to listen. But like they say, a hard head make fo' a soft ass. You gon' learn to listen to me."

  "Please, please, Daquan, don't do this! Let me finish frying your chicken and I'll never do this again. Your food will be ready and on the table everyday on time. I promise!"

  "I'm tired of hearing your damn excuses."

  "Bang!" was all you heard as the hot skillet came crashing down on Teresa's head. The hot oil splashed up in the air, and if Daquan hadn't moved forward and turned his head, his face would've been saturated with the grease.

  But Teresa wasn't so lucky, as the burning oil grazed her hands, as they were protecting her face and part of her thigh.

  After belting out in pain from the grease, she then noticed blood trickling down from the open gash on the side of her forehead. But it didn't stop there. Daquan then put the skillet down and began kicking Teresa in her ribs and back like she was a diseased infected dog that had just bitten him.

  "Yo', Pops, leave moms alone! Why you always got to do this? It ain't never no peace when you come in this house." Genesis stood in the kitchen entrance with his fists clenched and panting like a bull. He had grown sick and tired of watching his father beat his mother down almost every single day. At the age of eleven he had seen his mother receive more ass whippings than hugs or any indication of love.

  "Boy, who the fuck you talkin' to? You betta get yo' ass back in your room and stay the hell outta of grown people's business."

  "Genesis, listen to your father. I'll be alright. Now go back to your room," his mother pleaded.

  Genesis just stood there unable to move, watching his mother and feeling helpless. The blood was now covering her white nightgown and she was covering her midsection, obviously in pain trying to protect the baby that was growing inside of her. He was in a trance, not knowing what to do to make the madness stop. But he was quickly brought back to reality when he felt his jaw almost crack from the punch his father landed on the side of his face.

  "I ain't gon' tell you again. Get yo' ass back in your room! And don't come out until I tell you to! Now go!" Daquan didn't even wait to let his only son go back to his room. He immediately went over to Teresa and picked up where he left off, punishing her body with punches and kicks. He seemed oblivious to the fact that not only was he killing her, but also he was killing his unborn child right before his son's eyes.

  A tear streamed down Genesis's face as he tried to reflect on one happy time he had with his dad, but he went blank. There were no happy times. From the first moment he could remember, his dad was a monster.

  All Genesis remembered starting from the age of three was the constant beat downs his mother endured for no reason. If his dad's clothes weren't ironed just right, then a blow to the face. If the volume of the television was too loud, then a jab here. And, God forbid, if the small, two-bedroom apartment in the drug-infested building they lived in wasn't spotless, a nuclear bomb would explode in the form of Daquan. But the crazy part was, no matter how clean their apartment was or how good the food was cooked and his clothes being ironed just right, it was never good enough. Daquan would bust in the door, drunk or high, full of anger, ready to take out all his frustration out on his wife. The dead end jobs, being broke, living in the drug infested and violent prone city of Philadelphia had turned the already troubled man into poison to his whole family.

  "Daddy, leave my mom alone," Genesis said in a calm, unemotional tone. Daquan kept striking Teresa as if he didn't hear his son. "I'm not gonna to tell you again. Leave my mom alone." This time Daquan heard his son's warning but seemed unfazed.

  "I guess that swollen jaw wasn't enough for you. You dying to get that ass beat." Daquan looked down at a now black and blue Teresa who seemed to be about to take her last breath. "You keep yo' ass right here, while I teach our son a lesson." Teresa reached her hand out with the little strength she had left trying to save her son. But she quickly realized it was too late. The sins of the parents had now falling upon their child.

  "Get away from my mother. I want you to leave and don't ever come back."

  Daquan was so caught up in the lashing he had been putting on his wife that he didn't even notice Genesis retrieving the gun he left on the kitchen counter until he had it raised and pointed in his direction. "Lil' fuck, you un lost yo' damn mind! You gon' make me beat you with the tip of my gun."

  Daquan reached his hand out to grab the gun out of Genesis's hand, and when he moved his leg forward, it would be the last step he'd ever take in his life. The single shot fired ripped through Daquan's heart and he collapsed on the kitchen floor, dying instantly.

  Genesis was frozen and his mother began crying hysterically.

  "Oh dear God!" Teresa moaned, trying to gasp for air. "Oh, Genesis baby, what have you done?" She stared at Daquan, who laid face up with his eyes wide open in shock. He died not believing until it was too late that his own son would be the one to take him out this world.

  It wasn't until they heard the pounding on the front door that Genesis snapped back to the severity of the situation at hand.

  "Is everything alright in there?" they heard the older lady from across the hall ask.

  Genesis walked to the door still gripping the .380-caliber semi-automatic. He opened the door and said in a serene voice, "No, Ms. Johnson, everything is not alright. I just killed my father."

  Two months later, Teresa cried as she watched her son being taking away to spend a minimum of two years in a juvenile facility in Pemberton, New Jersey.

  Although it was obvious by the bruises on both Teresa and Genesis that he acted in self defense, the judge felt that the young boy having to live with the guilt of murdering his own father wasn't punishment enough. He concluded that if Genesis didn't get a hard wake up call, he would be headed on a path of self destruction. He first ordered him to stay at the juvenile facility until he was eighteen. But after pleas from his mother, neighbors and his teacher, who testified that Genesis had the ability to accomplish whatever he wanted in life because of how smart and gifted he was, the judge reduced it to two years, but only if he demonstrated excellent behavior during his time there. Those two years turned into four and four turned into seven. At the age of eighteen when Genesis was finally released he was no longer a young boy, he was now a criminal minded man.

  Deja Job) Xing

  zIbout theIuthor

  Deja (Joy) King was born in Toledo, Ohio, and raised in California, Maryland, North Carolina and New Jersey. Ms. King represents a new breed of writers producing young, hip and sexy novels that introduce readers to street life in all its complexity and also takes readers behind the velvet rope of the glamorous, but often shady entertainment industry.

  Ms. King attended North Carolina Central University and Pace University, where she majored in journalism. Emerging onto the entertainment scene, Deja accepted an internship position, and immediately began to work her way up the ranks, at The Terrie Williams Agency. She worked hands-on with Johnnie Cochran, The Essence Awards, The Essence Music Festival, The NBA Players' Association, Moet & Chandon, and other entertainment executives and celebrities.

  Following a new chapter in her life, Ms. King attended the Lee Strasburg Theater Institute before accepting a job as Director of Hip Hop Artist Relations at Click Radio, where she developed segments featuring the biggest names in hip hop. Ms. King pushed her department to new levels by creating an outlet that placed hip hop in the forefront of the cyber world.

  Ms. King made her literary debut with Bitch, and followed it up with the bestselling sequel Bitch Reloaded and The Bitch Is Back. The saga continues with Queen Bitch. A prolific writer, King is also the author of Dirty Little Secrets, Hooker to Housewife, Superstar and Stackin 'Paper which she writes under her pseudonym Joy King. For more information visit www.joykingonline.com and www.myspace.com/joyking.

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