“Lay off my brother,” shouted Shayna Bastien, and the tall, dark-skinned Haitian-American tomboy exploded into action. Caesar Bastien, as usual, was about to be taken out by some fools, all because of a bitch named Stacey Flores. Hooking up with married women is one of Caesar’s pass-times. Now he’s got to face the music. The skinny, dreadlocked brother lay on the floor, trying to shield his head as three people, two men and a woman, beat his ass senseless. Fortunately for Caesar, his sister Shayna came to his rescue...
“Bitch, if you come at me like a dude, I will treat you like a dude and beat your ass,” said a burly, red-haired white dude with a beard, glaring angrily at Shayna. Mr. Ginger squared off against Shayna, ready to throw down. The young woman came at him without hesitation. Mr. Ginger swung at Shayna, who ducked under the blow and kicked him in the shins. As Mr. Ginger yelped in pain, Shayna cold-cocked him in the temple with her fist, dropping him real good...
“You filthy ghetto dyke, you did not just hit Tony,” said a chubby, light-skinned chick with a bad weave. She took a break from hitting Caesar’s prone body and came at Shayna. Seizing up the fat bitch, Shayna squared off against her. This had to be Stacey, the latest in a long line of ugly broads with husbands or boyfriends whom her brother Caesar felt the need to stick his dick into. I love pussy but I’m glad I’m not a dude, Shayna thought smugly.
“Bitch, you and Tony can both get it,” Shayna snapped back, and she lunged at Stacey, who moved even slower than her man Tony, who was still lying on the ground, knocked out. Shayna, a veteran of many catfights, knew that a lot of big women like to grapple and smother. At five-foot-eleven, Shayna was taller than Stacey but the big bitch had to have like thirty or forty pounds on her. If I let her smother me I’m toast, Shayna thought wearily.
“Fuck you,” Stacey shrieked, and she lunged at Shayna, arms extended. Shayna exploded into action, punching the other woman in the chin, the chest, and the gut, all within a five-second span. Stacey yelped in pain, and a comical look of pain and shock spread across her face. You’re going down, bitch, Shayna thought, as she dropped Stacey with another punch, straight to the temple. Stacey fell like the proverbial sack of potatoes...
“Bitch, you gonna pay for that,” came a male voice, and Shayna turned in time to see a tall dark-skinned male with a bald pate lunge at her with a switchblade. Shit, Shayna thought, instinctively raising her hands in defense. The man swung, and the blade connected with Shayna’s arm, causing her to gasp. It didn’t break my skin, Shayna thought, flabbergasted.
Right as the knife-wielding man got ready to stab Shayna again, his legs got kicked out from under him. The man gasped in shock and fell. Before he could recover, a punch to the back of his head sent him to Dreamland. Shayna blinked as she saw her brother Caesar, on his feet and looking none the worse for wear, standing over the now unconscious bozo with the knife.
“Can’t let you have all the fun, sister,” Caesar said, wiping blood off his face and grinning like an idiot. Shayna looked at her older brother and burst out laughing, relieved to see him alive and well. Of course, since Caesar had the unmitigated gall of getting in trouble for banging yet another low-life skank who was already in a relationship, Shayna slapped his shoulder, hard.
“That’s what you get for not listening to me, big bro, stop sticking your dick into crazy,” Shayna snapped, and Caesar laughed and shrugged. They exchanged dap, and then high-tailed it out of the seedy corner of Battle Street where the beat-down just took place. The City of Brockton, Massachusetts, is a rough area even at the best of times. The Bastien siblings needed to get away before Stacey, Tony and company came to and summoned their people for an all-out war...
“Shay, I thought that dude stabbed you for sure, guess I was wrong,” Caesar, looking at his sister’s arm. Shayna nodded and rubbed her arm where the knife-wielding dude tried to stab her. For as long as the young Haitian-American woman could remember, she’d been stronger and much more resilient than anyone else she knew. The incident with the knife freaked Shayna out more than she let on, but she tried to play it off...
“Dude missed, it’s all good, Caesar,” Shayna said, clapping her older brother on the shoulder. Caesar looked at his younger sister, his concern all too evident. For as long as Caesar could remember, Shayna had always been tough, and almost never got hurt. Still, she was his little sister and at the end of the day, it was his job to protect her. The Bastien siblings exchanged a smile before making the long trek from Battle Street on the south side of Brockton to their home on Ash Street, in the cozy West Side.
