No Home Training by Ms. Michel Moore

say excuse me.
    â€œHey, girl!” O.T. spoke in a hurry. “Your sister and your baby daddy about to come over later to talk or kick ya ass.” He couldn’t resist clowning her. “But any way it go, I gotta shoot a move but I should be back before they get here so I can referee or at least get Kenya off of you.”
    â€œShut up and get out!” London tried covering the phone’s receiver so Fatima wouldn’t see how badly she was getting disrespected until he finally left.

Chapter 6
    Oh, It’s Like Dat
    O.T.
    The intense pouring rain didn’t stop O.T. from driving into a carwash and using the sprayer to rinse the terrible stench from inside of his trunk. After putting the guns in a safe place and throwing all the stuff he’d pissed on out in a dumpster, he didn’t get time to at least squirt some disinfectant before Kenya had called him about Paris. By the time he’d left the hospital and dropped Kenya off at the condo, he was done, wanting to do nothing more than sleep.
    Purchasing a good damn near twenty wild cherry tree air fresheners out the machine, O.T. tossed them all in his trunk then sped off toward Royce’s main re-up house. After him bugging the shit out of him all day about the last time he actually saw or talked to Chocolate Bunny, he knew it was about time he saw him face-to-face to play the shit off. It would look way beyond suspicious if he didn’t at least say something to the worried man.
    O.T. listened to the radio as he plotted what he’d say. He had to make it somewhat good, but by all means believable. And thanks to Chocolate Bunny and her jaded past, she made it easy and convenient. If all went as planned, he was gonna lead Royce to believe that all along his woman was cheating on him, seeing some rich white dude from Cali she’d met at Alley Cats. And since Royce and most of his crew were banned from there, he wouldn’t be able to dispute whether it was true. Besides everyone knew Royce was so caught up, so blinded, and so far gone behind Chocolate Bunny’s pussy even if the lie was a 100 percent authentic none of his fake loyal soldiers would risk their jobs or position to be the bearer of bad news.
    As he slowly bent the corner and pulled up two houses down parking under a huge tree, he looked in his rearview mirror seeing Marco, Royce’s right hand henchman, standing on the porch smoking a cigarette. The loud, cracking sounds of thunder filled the air as O.T. put his game face on. Yeah, this was it. Not giving a fuck about getting his wheat-colored Tims wet and stained in the heavy downpour he got out the car and sprinted, heading up the walkway. “Hey, guy.” O.T. nodded his head. “The old man inside?”
    â€œNaw, dude. You just missed him.” Marco blew the smoke from his cigarette out. “He just bounced.”
    â€œOh, yeah?”
    â€œYeah.” Marco kept it short.
    â€œDamn, as much as he was blowing up a nigga’s phone I thought he would’ve been here posted.” O.T. studied Marco’s expression to see if he could peep out what Royce’s mind set was.
    â€œPlease don’t tell me dude was on you too about that slut.”
    O.T. now had the answer he was looking for. Royce was panicked and his team was loose lipped. He took that as his opportunity to plant the seed and lay the groundwork. “Yeah, the old man say he can’t find her.”
    â€œJust between me and you, O.T., that tramp somewhere on the beach sipping on some big, fruity drink with a stupid umbrella in that motherfucker!”
    â€œYeah, man, I feel you.” O.T.’s plan was working itself out. “We both know Chocolate Bunny be doing her thang!”
    â€œDude, I’m telling you, I don’t know what’s wrong with Royce’s mind. Maybe he got Alzheimer’s or something.” Marco thumped his still lit Newport into the wet bushes as his dreads hung over his