Sheep in Wolf Clothes

By Tia Shaw

Daddy’s little girl, Kimora Ju-long Hu is multiracial, mix with Native American and Asian. Instead of tea parties and paper dolls, her pa is training her to fight, to kill. With the Chinese mafia chasing him, he flees the state leaving his family behind. They end up with no lights, heat, or food and the grandparents she never knew she had come to the rescue.

Forced to change her lifestyle, Kimora joins the school track team to escape her hurtful past. As she starts to find happiness, she discovers what kind of sinister person her pa really is. Naturally, she is angry but nothing compares to the anger that builds when her father returns back in her life only to kidnap her brothers and Grandpa. Using them as leverage, Kimora has no choice but to become his one-woman hit squad.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543921748

Book preview

Clothes

Chapter One

The Beginning

Again, Kimora!

Hiyah!

You have to use more force when you kick. Now do it again! Papa commands, standing behind the body opponent bag.

I hate this thing with a passion. Sometimes I imagine it’s Papa’s face I’m kicking. I’m six years old and weigh a little less than forty pounds. I don’t know how much force he thinks is in my scrawny legs. Papa’s a very bossy person. He also wants everything done perfectly, and if it’s not, he will keep pushing until you reach his level of standards.

Miracle is what Mama wanted to name me but instead Papa chose Kimora. Mama says she had great complications when I was in her stomach. I was born a breech baby. She explained to me that breech means a delivery of a baby positioned in the uterus and the buttocks or feet are delivered first, and that’s just what I was, a feet-first baby. The doctor pulled one of my legs a little harder than the other and she dislocated my knee. Papa thought for sure I wouldn’t have full mobility of my leg but the doctor reassured him that I would be fine.

I am not allowed to play with the other children on my block anymore because one time I had a play date and we were running around the big maple tree in front of the house and I slipped, landing on my knee. It dislocated and it took forever to heal. You would have thought it was the end of the world the way Papa reacted. This isn’t his leg, it’s mine, and the pain was real, so I don’t know why he got so excited.

You are going to stay out here until you get the kick right and with more power, Papa says, walking around me.

Honey, that’s enough, Mama says, holding the backdoor open. She has been out here for an hour already. It’s time for her to eat and get ready for bed.

My father, Ju-long Hu, is not your typical Asian. He’s five foot seven and built like Bruce Lee. He hardly smiles, and is not easy to please. Mama’s name is Isabella. She’s Native American, soft-spoken, and her body structure matches: five foot two, slender, with gorgeous, dark-brown eyes. When she smiles I get a warm feeling inside.

Multiracial is what society labels me, but Mama says we are all one race, just different colors. My skin is the color of dark mahogany. My eyes are slanted, and they are a deep, chocolate-brown color. My hair is always an issue. It’s jet-black and bone straight. Sometimes I wish I had hair like my friends: very easy to manage. My mother isn’t a beautician but she does a pretty good job at taming this uncontrollable hair of mine.

Papa has an evil, bitter streak but that doesn’t interfere with him providing me with a happy childhood. By the age of two I was spoiled to the core and now I’m rotten; a little sassy, and a lot smarter than my parents give me credit for. Ma says Pa owns a Laundromat and Pa says he owns a computer store. They both seem like an honest job, right? Wrong! Sure Papa owns a Laundromat, which he uses as a cover-up to smuggle illegal immigrants into the country. He also owns a computer store and it’s used to distribute drugs and guns. He taught me how to fight at the tender age of three. I don’t want to learn martial arts, but Pa says it’s mandatory I know how to defend myself.

My house is out of this world. We have six bedrooms, three bathrooms, and it’s located in a gated community in New Jersey. Between both parents they own three cars each. Why? They can only drive one at a time.

Papa and I enter the house. Ma is right; I have been working up a sweat for an hour now. My leg is in pain but I am terrified to say something. I don’t want to upset Pa.

I wish you would stop treating her like a child.

Maybe you keep forgetting she is only six years old and she’s not a boy. Let me see your leg, sweetie. Ma looks down at my knee. Does this hurt? she asks, pressing down on a tender spot.

I glance at Pa and then back at Ma. I shake my head no. Mama winks her eye.

See? She’s fine. If you treat her like a baby she will act like one.

Ma looks at Pa with a cold stare. I pull the kitchen chair out and climb on her back. Don’t worry, baby. Mama is going to take care of you.

***

No weather is un-trainable to Pa. Good job, Kimora, but I need you to jump higher next time.

I am trying but it’s too cold and it’s starting to snow. Can we please stop? I look back at the house to see if Mama is going to come rescue me like she has done for years.

Pa laughs, She can’t save you.

I wish I could still enjoy the perks of being the only child but I’m not anymore. When I turned nine my parents began to snap at each other, and over my four-year growth spurt I can remember every argument. Each one would be worse than the last one. In between fighting they had two more kids, without asking my feelings about it. I don’t care for my brothers because ever since they were born they have been a burden to my parents and myself. Mason is seven and Lucas is five. They favor our Pa’s look; slanted eyes, a small nose—and a lack of personality.

When Mason was born, Mama barely came out here to stop Papa from torturing me. I don’t think Pa wanted any more kids because when Mason was born, Pa hardly came home. I thought Mama would have seen what was going on. Maybe she did and had Lucas, thinking another child would keep Pa at home.

In Papa’s absence, Ma is always throwing money out of the window. Just as fast as Pa makes it, she spends it. Every Friday like clockwork she checks their bank statement and then hosts the biggest parties. I believe she did this to hide the pain of Pa not wanting to be around us anymore. The few times he does show his face, I seem to be the main reason for his visit. I would be happy if he wasn’t still forcing me to learn how to fight.

His absence doesn’t affect our household financially; at least, I think it doesn’t. Monday through Friday, Papa has me going to a martial arts school. My brothers and I go to the best private school money can pay for. When Ma takes us shopping, we only shop on Fifth Avenue. Pa never teaches Lucas or Mason anything, and this is the reason why sometimes the three of us don’t get along. Pa says there is nothing wrong with a little sibling rivalry. In a competition, it shows who’s more competitive to win.

***

Get out of my room! I growl at Mason.

Why should I? You’re always in my room touching my belongings and I never kick you out.

That’s because you know I am stronger than you.

Strength has nothing to do with it.

Pa says strength and power pertain to everything. So you don’t know what you are talking about, I shove Mason out the doorway.

Well, Pa is a liar and you are a fool if you believe anything that comes out of his mouth.

Everyone in this house has his or her own issues with Pa. I understand the reason he’s never home and I don’t blame him. I wish when he leaves he would take me with him, but I learned at a young age that I couldn’t always have my way. Pa hasn’t been home for a few months now and I hate hearing Mama and my simple-minded brothers bad-mouth him.

For the last time, I said get out of my room and stay out of my space.

Quickly I put Mason in a headlock. Fighting with my brothers is a common thing. What’s not common is a girl having the power and the ability to fight a boy and beat him. Mason tries wiggling free. Laughing, I squeeze tighter.

You never learn. You are never going to win.

Unhand him right now! Mama says, pinching my arm. I swear your father is breeding you to be an animal.

She squeezes tighter, dragging me to the living room and tossing me on the sofa.

I don’t know what has gotten into you these past few weeks.

I do, Lucas replies, entering the living room with Mason. She misses Pa. She said it’s our fault he’s not here because you are always arguing with him, and Mason and I act like babies.

I am sorry you feel this way, Mama says, looking out of the window. Your father is not the sweet person you think he is or he pretends to be.

You have no clue what I think about my father, and if he were here, you wouldn’t be talking about him.

Shut your mouth, and you shut it right now! Ma cries,