Again, Charles shook his head. “John, you might have to get out of town. Never thought I’d tell a nigga to up and run from a problem, especially one that he indirectly caused, but I remember when I was young and sometimes it really is just better to walk away than to be one of these niggas that wind up in prison on some bullshit. But, remember what I told you. Don’t let me see you comin’ around after today. I don’t need nobody else to come up dyin’. Let some shit happen to my family cause that nigga Race was followin’ you over to me and mines, and I’mma fuckin’ come after you.”
Charles’ lips were tight as he finished his sentence. He spun on his heel and headed toward the building. The family was already sitting around tables, waiting for Charles to come in and join them so they could say prayer. John watched as the heartbroken man walked away from his son’s grave. He could only look at the grave and let a stray tear roll down the side of his face and drop off his chin. The guilt was there, as was the anger. Now, even though he couldn’t go back in the past and redo any of this, he had to worry about his own life. Another layer of watching his back came to mind when John thought about the various places Race, or some of his boys, could come walking up to him. This led him to think about Sparkle and Isaac. He needed to get them to a safe place in case Race found out where he lived—information that wouldn’t be too hard to come across in a place like Cincinnati.
John took one last look at Judge’s grave and walked back toward the building. The cool wind felt strangely suspicious. The glowing sun in the sky seemed to be teasing John, telling him that a storm might be coming.
***
Race was lucky to have cousins and friends who cared for his wellbeing, despite how badly he’d been beaten and bruise out in the parking lot. Needless to say, the thought of looking into someone’s eyes after he’d just been utterly humiliated by having to get naked then be walked around the parking lot was almost cruel to even think about. Since the fateful night at the club, where someone had managed to get him out of there before police pulled into Blue Light’s parking lot, Race hadn’t left the house. For five days, he stayed shut away in his apartment.
The depression was real; the embarrassment was almost becoming a part of his identity; the humiliation was enough to make him want to run out of the town. The first day after the club, he’d broken down and decided to go to the hospital. Both of his wrists were sprained, his nose was broken, and there were deep scratch marks all over his body from being dragged across the pavement.
The rest of the week was filled with Race avoiding any contact with the outside world. As anyone would think, that birthday party had been his worst ever. When he’d gotten up off of the ground, naked, of course, looking around at the shocked eyes as he covered his manhood with his limp wrists, he knew his life had changed forever. He’d known that soon everybody in the hood would be talking about this. And Race soon found this to be true, as text messages flowed in from just about everyone in the hood. The streets were talking about what happened up at Blue Lights and they were talking loudly.
Race, still recuperating all this time later, sat in a chair in the middle of his living room. With his balcony door open and wind rushing in, he leaned his head back in thought, glancing down at the white chick going to town in his lap. Usually, he’d be turn on by the sounds of her slurping on his manhood. Today was different, though. The oral sex was certainly nice and soothing, but it wasn’t as enjoyable as it would normally be. He hated having to show his face to the white girl. Luckily for him, she cared more about what was in his pants than what was going on with his face.
Race gently rubbed the top of the white girl’s head, leaning his head back again as he enjoyed her deep throating. “You like suckin’ on that black dick?” he asked.
The chick, who was a plump white girl from a small town over in Indiana, worked at an office downtown. Race had met the chick at a CVS downtown some weeks ago and the two had traded numbers. This white girl had done absolutely nothing to hide the fact that she was staring at the bulge in the red sweatpants he wore that day. Now that he’d been beaten and humiliated in front of everyone on his birthday, at his own birthday party, he called her over to make her dreams finally come true. When he’d sent her a dick pic, she came rushing right over and dropped to her knees, going on and on about how his manhood was everything she’d always dreamt about when it came to a black man.
“Mmhmm,” the plump white girl. She pulled her head up off of Race’s sloppy wet shaft and stroked it with her hand as she took a deep breath. “This black cock tastes so good.”
Race chuckled, looking down at the joy written all over the white girl’s face. He rubbed the sides of her face and pushed her head back down onto his shaft, forcing her all the way down until he heard her gagging. “I got somethin’ for you then,” he said. “Suck on the dick real good.”
Race watched as the chick followed orders. She sucked his dick as if it had been dry since the Civil Rights movement. A few minutes later, he felt his balls tightening up. He was ready to let go and he was going to do his favorite thing. “Here you go,” Race said, planting his hand on to the top of the white girl’s head and pushing it all the way down until her long, narrow nose pressed into his base. “Here you go!”
Race groaned as he released in the chick’s throat. Then, gagging for air, she pulled her head up. Race chuckled, looking down at her red face. He watched her gulp his cum down her throat then lick his dick clean. “Damn, you really like that shit, don’t you?” he said.
The white girl nodded. “Mmhmm,” she said again. “Why you wait so long to let me come and suck on it?”
Race smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I was just waitin’ on the right time to call you ‘cause I could look at you and tell that you could suck on some black dick betta than anybody out here.”
Race pulled his pants up and walked the chick to the door, promising that he’d call her to come back over and give him some head. On her way out the door, feeling somewhat rushed, the white chick looked back into the apartment and down at Race’s bulge. Even though his face was badly bruised, and his wrists were in braces, his body was everything and his dick was absolutely delicious.
With a bit of a struggle, Race took a shower and chilled on his bed. So much ran through his mind, as he continued to ignore his phone going off. The texts, Facebook messages, and other kinds of alerts were just too much. How in the world would he answer to be walked around the parking lot in front of Blue Lights, naked, and on a leash? And to think, that John had done all this. What made Race feel even worse about this was the fact that nobody had been in a position to stop it.
Race chilled for a little while, rolling a blunt and smoking while he thought everything through. The rage still boiled in his blood, even though he’d gotten some good head. He’d become so infuriated from what went down at the club that he’d totally forgotten about Imani. She was completely irrelevant at this point. Hearing that Maya had gone and beat her and her sister’s ass thoroughly a second time was enough. Maya had called asking about what happened, as she was on her way to the club when she found the area blocked off by the boys in blue.
Drew called, his voice still dismal. “Wassup, Race?” he asked. “What you up to? You doin’ all right over there, nigga? It ain’t like you, nigga, to not say nothin’ for days like this. I mean, Race, I know you been seein’ my texts.”
“Nigga, I ain’t got shit to say,” Race said. “Fuck, I’m over here with one wrist that don’t even fuckin’ work and the other one is off and on. Shit, I don’t even really feel like holdin’ the phone now, but I saw it was you callin’, so I was like let me go on and hit this nigga up. Everybody been hittin’ me up and I ain’t really try’na hear all that.”
“Race, what they sayin’?” Drew asked. “The people that’re hittin’ you up… What kind of shit is they sayin’?”
Race knew that his boy Drew meant well, but there were times he could be rather oblivious. �
��What the fuck you think, nigga?” Race asked. “I know you was knocked out and shit when that shit happened, but it was fuckin’ horrible.”
“Yeah,” Drew said, not knowing what to say. “Niggas is talkin’ about it. You said them niggas was tapin’ it out in the parkin’ lot?”
“You know they was, Drew,” Race snapped. “I don’t even know why the fuck you askin’.”
“Okay, okay,” Drew said. “Shit, I was just try’na stop by for a minute. I was callin’ to let you know that white man hit me up about that deal, but I ain’t try’na talk about it over the phone. You know I got the Obama phone, so the government prolly be sneakin’ and try’na hear what the fuck a nigga got to say. Plus, I wanna show you somethin’ that I think you gon’ like to see.”
“Okay, nigga,” Race said. “Come on over. I just got my dick sucked by this white chick, so sorry if I’m a little sluggish. Shit, a nigga just wanna lay back and chill.”
Drew laughed and told Race that he’d be on his way. Race hung up, got dressed and went out to his living room. With his current state, he didn’t even want to walk in front of his balcony. The thought of going out into the world and being the face that matched up with the humiliating story that was going around the hood was just too much. He’d always considered himself to be a brave dude, but even he wasn’t brave enough to be that guy.
“A fuckin’ leash!” Race said, shaking his head and biting his bottom lip. “That nigga John get caught fuckin’ my chick in my fuckin’ bed and the nigga gon’ do some shit like that to me.” Seeing all of the confused and shocked faces standing around him as he’d gotten dressed that night had been humiliating. He hadn’t talked to a single friend or cousin since that night, not knowing what to say.
Race got up and opened the door when Drew knocked. Drew, not very good at hiding his reactions, couldn’t help but look Race up and down. He hadn’t seen him in a few days and had truly been concerned about his well-being. “Wassup?” Race asked, sounding flat.
“Wassup?” Drew said, coming in and closing the door. “How you feelin’?”
“Shit, I’m okay,” Race said. “I mean, my one arm fucked up. But the other one is okay. I lifted a couple weights with it this morning and everything seem alright. Still got it.”
“I see, I see,” Drew said, nodding. “That’s wassup.” He wanted to get on talking about the deal. “That white dude I told you about that stay in the condos up north hit me up today. He said he tired of bein’ put off, dude. If he can’t buy the shit today, then he gon’ go and find him some otha nigga to get it from.”
“Damn,” Race said, thinking about how he’d pushed the meeting off because he wanted to be more recovered from the incident. He truly believed that someone might question whether or not they could work with him should they see that he’d obviously gotten caught up in a bad situation. “Okay, okay. I’mma have to do it. Do he know what kinda money he supposed to have if I bring it up to him?”
“Hell yeah,” Drew said. “He been knowin’ that. He sound irritated as fuck. He really want this shit ASAP. He said he gotta head up north soon or somethin’ and he wanted the shit before he was ready to roll out with some friends or some coworkers or something.”
“Okay,” Race said, standing up. “You ready to ride out there or what, Drew? Shit, I’m ready when you are. I got his shit already set aside. And I know he said he wanna do the shit next month, so I’mma have it then, too. Tell him he don’t need to worry. I’mma make sure that as long as he come through with the money, I’mma have whatever he want and he gon’ be cool. Hit him up and tell him we on our way.”
“Okay,” Drew said. He pulled a rectangular piece of paper out of his pocket and held it out toward Race. “Look at this shit,” he told him, smiling. “I thought I’d bring that over here to show it to you ‘cause I know you gon’ like to see this shit.”
Race grabbed it from Drew and found it to be an obituary. He looked at the face then the name. “This that nigga that was with John that night when them niggas came up shootin’ at a nigga outside the building. The nigga who was in the car at the club, drivin’ the shit when that nigga John…” Race had to catch himself and keep from reliving the pain. That was a story he simply hoped that he’d never have to tell.
“Yeah, I know,” Drew said. “That nigga got killed and his funeral was today.”
“But who the fuck killed him?” Race asked.
“See, I ain’t know that shit either,” Drew said. “So, I called up to the club. I had to talk to the owner a bit to get him to talk cause, well, you know he shitty as fuck about what happened and how it gon’ hurt his club.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that shit,” Race snapped. “Nigga, look at what the fuck happened to me. I don’t care if that nigga mad or some shit. Shit, for real, for real, if you really wanna know how I feel, I’d fuckin’ sue that nigga if I ain’t wanna be bothered with the system and shit. Shit, if this was white people, they’d be talkin’ about suin’ that place because security failed and shit. Fuck that nigga.”
“Yeah,” Drew said. “That’s the same shit I was thinkin’.”
“Don’t you worry, though,” Race said. “This the kinda shit that ain’t no nigga gon’ ever let go. Just wait till my wrists and shit is all fixed up and I’mma really be out lookin’ for that nigga John. He got in some pussy that belonged to me then came up in my birthday party, doin’ that crazy ass shit. I’mma fuckin’ kill that nigga. At first, I ain't wanna risk catchin’ a case and shit, but it look like I just might have to take the chance. After some shit like that happen to you, a nigga don’t fuckin’ care nothin’ about what the fuckin’ law got to say. I’m goin’ after that nigga like I’m a fuckin’ assassin or some shit.”
“I feel you on that,” Drew said. “I fuckin’ feel you on that. When them niggas finally woke me up and shit and I found out what all had happened, I was so fuckin’ mad that I wanted to kill some niggas my damn self. I wonder how the fuck that nigga even found out about the party. I mean, it ain’t like I put the shit on Facebook. I just called and hit up the niggas that I know you wanted there.”
“I don’t know,” Race said. “I was thinkin’ about that shit too, cause whoever the fuck told that nigga where I was gon’ be and when need a fuckin’ bullet in they head too. But I ain’t gon’ fuckin’ worry about that shit right now.” He glanced down at the obituary and chuckled. “I beat the nigga Camron up, thanks to niggas in his hood talking a little too much and describin’ where the fuck the nigga live and shit. And now that nigga John’s boy Judge is dead and gone.” He chuckled again. “I gotta make sure I make gettin’ that nigga John really count.”
Drew looked at his boy Race, taking note of the vengeance that glossed over in his eyes. Something was telling Drew that this situation was about to get all the more interesting. It had been quite a long time since Race had been this fired up about anything.
CHAPTER 11
Sparkle had remained in the dark over the last month or so. She had not the least bit idea that anything bad had gone down involving the father of her child. Sure, she’d seen what went down at Blue Lights. Beyond that, a video was circulating around Cincy that was supposedly taken outside of the club of a guy, stripped naked, being walked around the parking lot by a moving car. Sparkle laughed, even though the thought of something like that happening to her was absolutely horrible. She couldn’t help but wonder what the guy must have done to deserve such a thing.
Roughly two weeks after the Blue Lights incident made the news, Sparkle had found a job at a distribution center on the outskirts of Cincinnati. She took Isaac with her and went apartment shopping. Even though things had been going okay with her and Isaac staying at John’s place, she was still desperately wanting her own. Having to live under someone else’s rules while being a grown woman with a child was just too much and she had quickly grown tired of it.
When Sparkle had forced her way back into John’s family by showing up at the family function some we
eks back, she’d made sure to get some phone numbers. On a chilly October day, she was feeling like she needed the attention of a man. She’d given some to John a few weeks ago, but since the family function he’d been acting funny. When the two of them were at the apartment at the same time, she’d catch him looking her body up and down. Still, he wouldn’t touch her anymore. Sparkle felt as if she could change that, though. She truly believed that if a woman who was supposed to be nothing to a man could get his attention and truly make him mad, then there must be some love there. Then, when she’d cook dinner and John would come back to his place to join she and Isaac, there was something about the way he looked across the table at her that told her things might not be over between the two of them. The warm reception from his family only reinforced this idea for Sparkle.
When Sparkle dropped Isaac off at his grandmother’s house, she pulled up at the nearby gas station. After filling her tank, she hit up this guy she’d met at the store about a week ago. She’d been so busy with the next job and moving that she’d kind of put her needs to the side. The guy went by the name Ice and he was everything Sparkle was looking for. To her, if things might not rekindle with John, as she wanted, she should keep her eyes open.
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me gettin’ some dick until I figure out what I’mma do,” Sparkle said to herself as she waited on Ice—who was trying to come up as a rapper out of Cincy—to answer. She relished in imagining John’s face should he find out that some other man was coming around and trying to get up in her.
“Wassup?” Ice answered, his voice scratchy with a bit of an accent because his family was from the depths of Kentucky. “I ain’t think you was gon’ hit a nigga up.”
Sparkle giggled, blushing. “I told you that I was gon’ call you,” she said. “Why you ain’t believe me? I told you that I was in the middle of movin’ and try’na get used to this new job. This is the first free time I done had, so I thought I’d hit you up and see what you were up to.”
The Bed You Make: An Urban Hood Drama Page 18
