Natural Born Hustler Read online

  PRAISE FOR NIKKI TURNER

  #1 Essence Bestselling author

  “Always surprising, Nikki Turner’s prose moves like a Porsche, switching gears from tender to vicious in an instant.”

  —50 CENT

  “Nikki Turner has once again taken street literature to the next level, further proving that she is indeed ‘The Queen of Hip-Hop Fiction.’ ”

  —ZANE, author of Dear G-Spot

  “Another vivid slice of street life from Nikki Turner. You can’t go wrong with this page-turner!”

  —T.I. on Ghetto Superstar

  “Few writers working in the field today bring the drama quite as dramatically as Nikki Turner.… [She’s] a master at weaving juicy, ’hood-rich sagas of revenge, regret, and redemption.”

  —Vibe.com on Forever a Hustler’s Wife

  “USDA hood certified.”

  —TERI WOODS, author of the True to the Game trilogy on Riding Dirty on I-95

  ALSO BY NIKKI TURNER

  NOVELS

  Relapse

  Ghetto Superstar

  Black Widow

  Forever a Hustler’s Wife

  Death Before Dishonor

  (with 50 Cent)

  Riding Dirty on I-95

  The Glamorous Life

  A Project Chick

  A Hustler’s Wife

  EDITOR

  Street Chronicles: Backstage

  Street Chronicles: Christmas in the Hood

  Street Chronicles: Girls in the Game

  Street Chronicles: Tales from da Hood

  (contributing author)

  CONTRIBUTING AUTHOR

  Girls from da Hood

  Girls from da Hood 2

  The Game: Short Stories About the Life

  Natural Born Hustler is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A One World Trade Paperback Original

  Copyright © 2010 by Nikki Turner

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by One World Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  ONE WORLD is a registered trademark and the One World colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Turner, Nikki.

  Natural born hustler : a novel / Nikki Turner.

  p. cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-345-52365-5

  1. African Americans—Fiction. 2. Street life—Fiction. 3. Urban fiction. I. Title.

  PS3620.U7659N38 2010

  813′.6—dc22 2010022021

  www.oneworldbooks.net

  v3.1

  This book is dedicated to my auntie,

  very best friend, and sister,

  Yvonne Murray-Lewis.

  You are such a phenomenal woman

  with so many talents.

  I treasure you for all the secrets

  you hold, laughs we share,

  the words of wisdom and inspiration

  you give—they go such a long way.

  And

  to all the natural born hustlers on

  planet Earth: You know who you are—

  whether you want to admit it or not.

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  A Special Message from Nikki Turner to Her Readers

  Prologue

  Part 1 - Three months ago … Chapter 1 - Hate at First Sight

  Chapter 2 - House Rules

  Chapter 3 - Knocked

  Chapter 4 - A One-Track Mind

  Chapter 5 - Meet the Fam

  Chapter 6 - Showtime

  Chapter 7 - Just the 2 of Us

  Chapter 8 - Drop It Like It’s Hot

  Chapter 9 - Clearance Sale

  Chapter 10 - Slipping

  Chapter 11 - The Showdown at Sunup

  Part 2 - Revelations Chapter 12 - ICU

  Chapter 13 - Daddy’s Little Girl

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  A Special Message from Nikki Turner to Her Readers

  Dear Loyal Readers,

  When my publisher suggested that I pen a third addition to the epic Hustler’s Wife series, I was delighted by the idea, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy. This new novel would have to walk in the footsteps of two hugely successful predecessors—A Hustler’s Wife and Forever a Hustler’s Wife. The original characters, Yarni and Des, are both well into their thirties, a bit too mature to be running around doing some of the crazy stuff that I usually like to write about!

  Nevertheless I accepted the task and in the process I created this amazing, multi-dimensional, and complex teenage female character, Desember. She was a fatherless child who had so much heart and spunk that her persona began to dominate the project. It quickly became obvious to me that Desember needed her own book. As a reader (because I feel I’m a reader first), I felt we needed to delve deeper into her past and background and care more about her before she made her debut in the third installment of A Hustler’s Wife. And I knew just how to pitch it to the people that could get Desember’s story on the shelves and into your hands.

  When I called my agent, Marc, and shared my newest bright idea with him about a novel that would serve as a bridge between the second and third novel in the series, he was excited about the vision. (He keeps calling the book Hustler’s Wife 2½, which is why we don’t let Marc come up with the titles.)

  Now all we had to do was to sell the idea to my longtime editor and friend, Melody, at One World/Ballantine. At first Melody thought it was an okay idea. After she read the outline she began to like the idea a little more; the story was becoming contagious. And before the entire journey had run its course, Melody, like me, had fallen in love with Desember.

  Once my publisher and agent got the behind-the-scenes business done, I found out that Natural Born Hustler would be a fall release—my first ever. Up until now, all of my novels have been published in the summer. I can’t begin to count the letters and emails I’ve received from you, my readers, expressing how hard it is to wait an entire year between novels, so I knew that you would love this.

  But wait, I still needed to write the book. It was no joke, I was under the gun in the worst way, but I loved every minute of it. Maybe it was because Desember’s spunk reminded me so much of myself (many, many years ago). Growing up, I was also estranged from my father, and I’d always longed to know him and for him to know the real me. Ironically after I had finished writing this book, my father called me and apologized for the years apart and vowed to do all he could to build a better bond. I had a great male role model in my grandfather, who, along with my grandmother, raised me. He was the absolute best and did a phenomenal job with me, but there is nothing like the bond between a father and a daughter. I’m eager to see how our relationship develops.

  Sorry for my digression. I didn’t mean to get so personal but if I can’t share this with you, my loyal readers, then who can I? Anyway, there were times in this book when I would stop and laugh and read aloud, and on a few occasions I would even speak out loud to the characters. This was unusual because my characters speak to me all the time, but it’s rare I find myself reversing the roles.

  I had too much fun writing this book. I know it was supposed to be a treat for you but it was a real delight for me! Desember is one of the most unforgettable female protagonists that I’ve created since the infamous Yarni of A Hustler’s Wife. And I’m willing to bet the farm that on
ce you read her story and get to know her, you will love her too!

  Now, with no further ado … here’s my newest baby, Natural Born Hustler.

  Enjoy!

  Much Love,

  Nikki Turner

  Prologue

  Desember Day fumbled for the key to her mother’s house and upon entering, she heard her mother and stepfather in the midst of an argument, which wasn’t unusual these days.

  “Why do you have to come in the house drunk every single freaking weekend, Joe?” Angie screamed at her new husband of one year. Her anger surprised Desember, since her mother was such a mild-mannered, go-with-the-flow type. Angie rarely lost her temper, except with Desember from time to time, but generally she was a pushover. Desember lingered a little longer in the shadows of the foyer, concealing her presence as she listened and smiled, proud as her mother took a stand.

  “Because,” his voice was slightly slurred from the seven double shots of Grey Goose he’d taken to the head earlier, “ain’t nothing new. Don’t act like you didn’t know that I drank every weekend and that I have been doing this long before I met you or married you.” He took another shot of liquor, shook his head and added, “And why drink if you don’t plan to get drunk?”

  Desember’s latest stepfather, Joe Livingston, owned a very successful construction business and enjoyed getting bent with his workers on the weekend. It made him feel like one of the guys, even though he was the boss. Joe was usually a nice, kindhearted guy, but liquor would transform him into a monster and make him say horrible things to the people he loved and sometimes cause him to become violent.

  Desember never saw him hit her mother, but over the past two weeks, she’d sometimes come home to a broken table, or her mother sweeping up shattered pieces of glass from the floor, or one of Joe’s workers fixing something around the house as a result of the aftermath of Joe’s weekend extracurricular activities.

  “Listen to yourself. Do you hear what you are saying? You seem so ridiculous.” Angie could smell the alcohol seeping from her husband’s pores. She sniffed loudly. “You’re no different from Ned the wino that sleeps by the train tracks, except you got a job.” Then she added, “For now anyway.”

  Desember smiled, proud of her mother’s comeback, until she heard a noise that sounded like a firecracker exploding, startling the hell out of her.

  Angie fell to the sofa, clutching the side of her fair-skinned face, which now bore a red mark from Joe slapping the cowboy shit out of her. Desember dropped her bag and soda on the table and stepped out into the open.

  Joe looked at Desember with malice. The two locked eyes. It was no secret that neither of them liked the other. Desember would have sent his ass packing long ago if she could, but it wasn’t her decision. This was one of the main reasons that when her boyfriend, Fame, asked her to move in with him, she couldn’t move her things out of the house fast enough. But since their breakup two weeks ago, she was back at home living in the man’s house and hated that she had to be there under his roof abiding by his rules.

  The feeling was mutual. From the first time Joe had met the girl he thought she had too much mouth, and was too outspoken for any eighteen-year-old girl or for any female, for that matter. He preferred his women to be more passive and submissive, like Angie.

  “W-w-whad,” he stumbled over the word as he took a sip from an open bottle of Heineken that was sitting on the table. “Whad the fuck do you-uughh …”

  He was interrupted by a swift and painful knee to the groin, which caused the Heineken bottle to slip out of his hand. Before he could recover, a shiny switchblade jumped out of its handle and settled at the crook of his neck.

  Desember spoke slowly and clearly, leaving no room for any misunderstanding: “If you ever put your dick beaters on my mother again, I’ll kill you.” Her eyes never left his. “This is your first and last warning, you bitch-ass nigga.”

  Even before she opened her mouth to speak, her hands and dark slitted eyes had already told Joe all he needed to know: that although she was only eighteen years old, she was serious and there was no denying—she was dangerous.

  Desember broke her knife down as quickly as she had pulled it out, the tone in her voice sharper than the blade she’d just put away. “It’s no threat, it’s a promise.” Her eyes never left his.

  She never blinked as she watched Joe fix his collar. He turned his back on Desember, looked Angie up and down, then staggered out the door with a crushed ego—and crushed nuts.

  After a few moments, Angie broke the silence between her and her only child. “You didn’t have to emasculate the man, Desember,” she said, her face still showing his red handprint. “You need to stay the hell out of grown folks’ business,” Angie said to her daughter before running out the door after her man.

  “You’re welcome, Mom,” Desember sarcastically hissed at Angie’s back. Desember hated the fact that her mother was, and always had been, dependent on a man. That was one of the reasons she hustled as hard as she did; she didn’t want to end up living that way. Desember shook her head and sat down to enjoy her sandwich. Just then Usher and Alicia Keys’s “My Boo” ringtone sounded from the phone in her pocket. She knew exactly who was on the other end of the jack and it sent a tingling feeling throughout her entire body as she hit the green button to answer.

  “What’s up, Fame?” Fame and Desember had been together for three months now, although it seemed like years. They complemented each other like A-1 steak sauce and a New York strip, and she was happy for the diversion from her home situation.

  “Let’s go to the movies,” he said. “That joint with your girl Beyoncé jumps off tonight.” He acted as if he didn’t know that she was still mad at him.

  “You talking ’bout Dreamgirls.” It was a statement, not a question. And Fame wasn’t feeling the flick one bit, but she knew the man like a well-read magazine, and she also knew the nigga was crazy in love with Beyoncé like millions of other men were with Jay-Z’s wife.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. You wanna roll?”

  “Pick me up at my mother’s house,” she said before ending the call. Honestly she didn’t care where they went as long as it was away from Angie and Joe’s house.

  She had twenty minutes to change. She put on a micro-mini denim skirt that showed off her well-toned legs and ass that boys couldn’t keep their eyes off of. She then brushed her three-hundred-dollar weave and added some lip gloss that complemented her flawless chocolate skin.

  Exactly twenty minutes later Fame called again. “I’m outside baby, waiting in the car. You ready?”

  “Yeah, I’m ready. I’m coming out now,” she said right after she heard someone coming in the front door. By the sound of the footsteps, she knew it was her mother returning.

  The second she got in Fame’s car he greeted her, this time with a long kiss. “I missed you, baby.”

  His mouth tasted like watermelon Jolly Ranchers. He had a fresh haircut and his waves, which he brushed his hair religiously to maintain, were tight and shiny. His freckles and youthful smile made him appear much younger than his actual nineteen years.

  “I miss you too,” she said, then her phone rang.

  “Where are you going?” It was her mother.

  “The same place you went … with my man.” Desember looked at Fame.

  “Dee, you know that he’s no good for you.”

  “You’re one to talk,” she shot back. “And yours is good for you?” She rolled her eyes. How many times had she heard this song from her mother, who seemed to have one set of rules for Desember and another set for herself?

  “We are speaking about two different things,” Angie insisted. “And you know it.”

  “Well, like mother like daughter. If loving my man is wrong, oh well, the hell with being right.”

  “Desember, that boy is trouble. One day you’ll learn and it’s going to bite you in the ass … and when it does don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

  “I’ll deal with th
at day when it comes, Mother dear. Anyways, gotta go.”

  The movie theater was jam-packed for the Dreamgirls opening night. Fame and Desember took two seats in the very last row, caring more about ducking the eyes of the other patrons than actually watching the show. The chemistry between the two of them was magnetic, and it wasn’t long before the darkness and temptation overtook them.

  Minutes into the movie Desember reached over, unzipped Fame’s jeans and slipped her hand inside, searching with deft, manicured fingernails.

  “Need some help?” Fame whispered as he ran his hand up her thigh under her short jean skirt.

  “I got it covered, but if I run into any trouble, you’ll be the first I let know.” After a second or two, Desember had a firm grip on what she’d been searching for.

  “I heard that,” he said in a cross between a sigh and a moan as he leaned back in the cushioned chair, content to let her fingers do whatever they wanted as long as they kept doing it.

  Desember’s hand, still slick from the buttery popcorn, glided up and down his hardness. He jerked, trying to fight against the will of his body. The hand job was feeling so good he could no longer focus on his attempt to return the gesture.

  “Whatsda matter, big boy? Need some help?” she teased, knowing he was almost at ecstasy.

  Despite the darkness, Fame could sense the seductive half smile spread across her face. “Nah, baby,” he said in between tense breaths. “I don’t need no help, but I’ve seen enough of this flick. Let’s get the fuck outta here before we get caught.”

  “Don’t let me find out you running,” she teased, still holding on to his nightstick.

  “Oh, you best believe I’m running, all right. But I’m not running away, I’m running toward it. A man can’t live on foreplay alone.” He could see the movie anytime. In fact he had copped a clear bootleg copy over a week ago, hoping to see it with her. Besides, he hadn’t made love to Desember—or anyone else, for that matter—since their breakup.

  “Lead the way, big boy, I’m right behind you.” She took his hand as they both got up, and after a few “excuse us’s” and “pardon me’s,” they were out of the crowded movie theater and in the parking lot.