The Black Widow Clique

by Genesis Woods

  “Hey, neighbor,” I cooed as I walked closer to his space, causing him to jump.

  The finger he had digging for more gold quickly went behind his back, where I was sure he was getting rid of whatever evidence he pulled out. A big smile crossed his face as his eyes roamed over my body and took in the knee-length strapless dress I had on, which hugged my body like a glove. My hair was up in a messy ponytail, showing off the chunky necklace with jade stones around my neck and the three-carat studs in my ears. Light makeup on my face gave me that mid-afternoon glow. But the Tory Burch sandals I had just bought did nothing for my five-foot, eight-inch frame, making me feel like an ant next to his six-foot-six body.

  “Hey to you too, sexy neighbor. Long time no see.” He licked his lips. “Where have you been lately? I knocked on your door a few times in the past few weeks but never got an answer.” He put his hand over his heart. “I’m feeling some kind of way about you ignoring me. I thought you enjoyed my company.”

  As I walked up closer to him, the smell of whatever cologne he seemed to bathe in assaulted my nose, and it felt as if the hairs inside my nostrils were being burned. “I’ve been around. If I’m not working or at the hospital, I’m here. You probably just stopped by whenever I was out or asleep. You know I’m dead to the world whenever I’m knocked out.”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “Hospital? Is everything okay?” I smirked when his lanky frame took a few steps back, though he acted nonchalant.

  Nose and whole head would literally be in my pussy, but you want to step back because I said I’ve been at the hospital? I thought. Muthafuckas killed me.

  “Everything’s okay. My best friend was in an accident, so I was checking on her,” I revealed.

  Relief covered his handsome face as he stepped toward me. This time he got a little closer and rubbed his crotch against my arm. A look of genuine concern was evident on his face now, but I knew that shit was fake. Faizon and I had never had that type of relationship, so I didn’t understand why he was trying to act like we did. He stuck his hand out and ran it over my bare shoulder, then brushed his knuckles against the side of my breast as he moved his hand down my arm. Then he enveloped my hand in his.

  “Is she all right? If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better about the situation, you know I got you,” he said.

  “She’s good now, Faizon. The doctors discharged her, and she’s at home, resting. Thank you for the offer, though.”

  Just then the sound of someone walking on the gravel behind me caught my attention. When I turned around to see who it was, there was no one in sight. I looked over the parking lot a few times before turning back to my neighbor, but I didn’t see a soul. I admit, the shit had me a little paranoid, and maybe I was tripping. However, I needed to get my ass in the house before something popped off.

  “It was nice catching up with you, Faizon. But I need to get these things in the house.” I held up my bags.

  “I can take those in for you, Fiona. It’s been a minute since we kicked it.” He licked his lips again and smiled.

  Faizon was a handsome guy, no doubt. But he was totally not my type. I liked a man who was aggressive and cocky as hell. A man who wanted to own the world and would do anything to obtain that goal. A man who could make me feel like I was floating on air with his dick and his tongue. Faizon could lick the hell out of the box, but there wasn’t no levitating shit anywhere in his oral skills. And the fact that he was content with making whatever high school basketball coaches made nowadays was a definite turnoff for me. I was attracted to money and power, and Faizon had neither in his wallet or his mouth.

  Already over the flirty conversation and his weak attempt to get into my apartment, I just waved Faizon off and headed for the door. I walked up a flight of stairs and down a short hallway and was at my apartment door in no time. Since I already had my keys out, I easily opened my door, and then I dropped everything in my hands on the couch. I went straight to my refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water, and cracked it open, but I froze when this tingly feeling started to creep up my spine. Someone was in my apartment and was standing behind me. Not taking any chances, I grabbed the .357 revolver I had stored on the top shelf of my fridge and swung around, ready to let off on whoever had broken into my house.

  “Is that how you greet family, niece?” my uncle Dro said coolly as he leaned against the arch that led into my kitchen. He had his hands up in surrender, but I didn’t miss the heated look in his eyes. “I should be the one pulling out on you, seeing as you’re the one who owes me some money right now.”

  With my gun still pointed at my uncle and my eyes trained on him, I drank my water and then threw the bottle in the trash. “How the fuck did you get into my house?”

  “Come on now, niecey poo. You know I’m a man of many talents. I learned to break into apartments like these when I was still sucking on my mama’s titty. Who do you think taught me everything I know?” He laughed when I didn’t answer. “I see your dad hasn’t told you anything about his past life. I’m surprised he hasn’t broken out of that jail yet. I know he could do it if he really wanted to.”

  “My dad isn’t anything like you.”

  He smirked. “Nah, not anymore. I don’t even recognize this Maxwell. After Shaunie was killed, the nigga became soft. It’s like his savage side died with her. I never did like that bitch, anyway. She always thought she was better than everybody.”

  My mind drifted to Melonee and how she sometimes acted like she was better than me.

  He went on. “You know, I always thought Max Sr. should’ve stayed with April. Your mom . . . now that was a down-ass bitch. Real crazy with her gun play too.” He had a dreamy look in his eyes. “Yeah, that April was something else. You look just like her too. Body and everything.” Uncle Dro’s eyes lustfully gazed up and down my frame.

  “Don’t speak on my mom or my dad, Dro. You may not know this about me, because of your lack of ‘uncle skills,’ but I don’t play when it comes to my parents. Besides, your slumming ass could never be my dad on your best day.”

  “Wouldn’t want to be him. Your father and I are two different niggas. But you . . . you’re just like that muthafucka and your scandalous-ass mama. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, I see. It’s funny how people can’t see shit in front of them when it’s clear as day. You hold that nigga on a high-ass pedestal, when in actuality that nigga’s a bottom-feeder, just like everyone else.”

  I watched my uncle pick up an apple from my fruit basket, wipe it on his shirt, and then bite into it. The crunching sound he made while biting into the crisp Granny Smith echoed throughout my apartment and my soul. He winked his eye at me and smiled before he slowly began to chew. After taking another bite, Uncle Dro stood up straight against my wall and then walked over to my couch and took a seat. After picking up the remote, he flipped my TV on and turned it to ESPN. With his arms spread wide, his dirty boots up on my suede ottoman, and his head resting against the back cushion, he made himself comfortable in my shit like he lived here. This nigga was already getting on my last nerve. He needed to leave soon, before shit got out of hand. I took a seat in the armchair across from the couch, gun still held high, and we sat in silence for a few minutes, before I finally had had enough.

  “What do you want, Pedro?” I growled.

  “Oh, so I’m Pedro now? What happened to Uncle Dro? You want to address me by my full first name now that I told you some real shit about your bitch-ass daddy.” He laughed. “It’s cool, though, niece. I see what time it is. And to answer your question, I’m here to collect on that favor I did for you.”

  I smacked my lips and kept holding my gun up. I didn’t trust my uncle for shit, and I would most definitely try to kill him before he ever tried to kill me.

  “Look, I don’t have your money just yet. But I’ll call you whenever I get it, okay?” I said.

  “From the looks of this apartment, it doesn’t look like you’re hurting for money to me. Twenty-three hundr
ed dollars a month in rent, the fridge and cabinets full of food, plus bills, a car note, and money to splurge on shit like this.” He lifted one of the Gucci shirts I’d just purchased from one of the shopping bags. “Looks to me like you can afford to slide me my cut so I can be on my way.”

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “Uncle Dro, shit isn’t moving as fast as I thought it would. Plus, Melonee acts like she doesn’t want to—”

  “I don’t give a fuck about any of that shit you saying or what that bitch Melonee isn’t doing,” he yelled, cutting me off. “You called for my services, I gave them to you, and now I want my money. Which, I might add, you’re going to give me today, oh, beautiful niece of mine. Family or not, I will put a bullet right between those pretty little eyes of yours if I don’t get my shit. You’ve been dodging my calls ever since I told you that little favor you needed had been handled.”

  “That’s because I’ve been at the hospital, playing my role,” I snapped back, agitated from this conversation. “Had you stuck to the original plan, the money probably would’ve been in our hands already. Shit, you almost killed the poor girl. Then you raped her and got her pregnant, throwing all kinds of monkey wrenches into the shit. We can’t blackmail a white man with a black baby that’s one hundred percent black asshole. As soon as Melonee gives birth to that child, he will know it’s not his.”

  Uncle Dro cut his eyes at me. “First of all, I don’t have a baby on the way with anybody. Ain’t no bitch on this earth worthy enough to carry my seed, in my opinion. Secondly, if Melonee is pregnant, it’s not by me. All I did was fuck her up, like you asked. Maybe a little more than what you wanted, but you never specified how near death you wanted the bitch to be. Now, the nigga who was with me that night may have a different story. He stayed in the house for about thirty minutes after I left, doing whatever it was he was doing. So that baby might be his.” He bit into his apple again. “Oh, and you might as well go on ahead and put your little gun down. I guarantee you’ll drop dead to the floor before you even get a shot off.”

  I cocked my gun back and aimed it at him. “Oh yeah?”

  Uncle Dro laughed and turned his attention back to ESPN, completely ignoring the loaded gun I had pointed toward him. I wanted to pull the trigger so bad right now and end his pathetic, begging life, but then I remembered I didn’t have a silencer on my shit. I didn’t need my nosy neighbors calling the police before I could have someone come get his worthless-ass body up off my couch. I stood up, intending to head back into the kitchen to put my gun back in its hiding space, but I stopped when I felt the cold steel of someone else’s gun against the back of my head. The person behind me snatched my revolver from out of my hand, spun the chamber, and then emptied every bullet out onto the floor. When my eyes connected to my uncle Dro, he had that devilish smirk on his face.

  “You ain’t talkin’ all that shit now, are you, niecey poo? What happened to big, bad Fiona? You look like you’re about to piss on yourself.” He doubled over in laughter. “You see this shit. Niggas always got heart when they have a gun in their hand, but they turn pussy as soon as they have one pointed at their head.”

  I could feel the tears trying to fall from my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Me begging for my life would not be the last thing this nigga heard coming from my mouth. My phone started to go off, and I silently thanked God. When Uncle Dro picked it up off the couch, he had a weird look on his face.

  “Who is this Captain Kirk–looking muthafucka calling you?” he asked as he laughed and held up the screen for me to see.

  Even with a gun pointed at the back of my head, I felt the jolt of electricity that bolted from my heart to my pussy every time I saw Meyers’s face. Just seeing the sexy smirk on his face, combined with his tanned skin, dark brown eyes, and sculpted, half-naked body, in the photo that popped up whenever he called always did something to me. I reached out for my cell, but Uncle Dro held the phone back and ignored the call.

  “Why did you do that?” I said.

  “Nigga look like a police officer to me. You working with the law now, niece?” The threat in his low tone was not missed nor was the deep scowl on his face. The person behind me pushed the barrel of their gun harder against my skull and cocked back the hammer. When I tried to turn around to see who was behind me, they raised their other arm and nudged my jaw with a second gun, turning my face back to Uncle Dro. He raised his eyebrow, waiting for my answer to his question.

  “That was the man who has your money.”

  “You supposed to have my money,” he exclaimed as my phone started ringing again. “Come on now, niece. I’m trying really hard to spare your life, so stop fucking playing with me.”

  “I’m not playing with you, Uncle Dro. I swear he the dude I’ve been working with all this time. How you think I knew all that information about the beach house and how y’all got in without the alarm going off?”

  He looked at the picture flashing across my screen. “But you called that nigga Meyers whenever you talked about him. This muthafucka look like ole boy that just got appointed to be the new CEO of Real Time Delivery. What’s his name again? Brandon Black . . . or some shit like that?”

  “Benjamin Black, you mean.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. Benjamin Black.” Dro looked at me as if he was trying to read every thought in my mind. “You call him Meyers, though. Why?”

  I thought about giving him some bullshit-ass lie but decided to tell him the truth. “I call him Meyers because that’s his biological last name. He became a Black after his mama married Richard Black and he adopted him. When he and I met some years ago, he told me that Meyers was his last name, so that’s what I’ve called him, even after finding out who his stepfather and brother were.”

  Uncle Dro nodded his head and continued to stare at my phone as it began to ring again, going over everything I had just told him and probably putting some shit together. I didn’t miss the pressure of the gun pressing against the side of my face when the person behind me removed the gun from my jaw and then stuck it against my back.

  “So who has my money, Fiona? You or him? And before you answer that, make sure you’re about to tell me the truth, because if not, both of you muthafuckas will end up dead.”

  “Like I told you before, we are still waiting on the big money to come in. But I’m pretty sure I can get what you need from him.”

  Putting the TV on mute, Uncle Dro rose up from his seat on the couch and accepted the call. “Speak to him,” he mouthed to me and then pressed the speaker button. The person behind me pushed the guns harder against my back and my head and steered me closer to the couch.

  “Hello,” I said into the phone.

  “What’s up, baby? I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days.”

  “And there’s a good reason why, Benji.”

  “Come on, Fee. I know you aren’t still upset with that shit.”

  Anger started to build up in my body at his disregard for my feelings. The nerve of this asshole to call me and act like everything was okay. Yeah, I got all giddy whenever he called, but that didn’t stop me from being mad at the little shit that had popped off at his house not too long ago. It had been a few weeks since I’d last spoken to Benji. He’d been ignoring my calls ever since everything with Melonee went down. After spending countless hours at the hospital, trying to convince her to press charges against Roman, to no avail, all I had wanted to do was unwind and relieve some of the stress in my body when I got home. After having my phone calls ignored for a couple of days, I had asked Cowboy to find me Benji’s address, as I had decided to show up at his house unannounced. I had figured with all the new shit going on in his life, our little rendezvous would become less frequent, but I had never envisioned that they would stop altogether.

  So dressed in nothing but a trench coat and a pair of thigh-high boots, I’d shown up at his new penthouse home in downtown Los Angeles, ready to relieve him of the stress I knew he had too. Assuming he would welcome me in with
open arms and a hard dick, I untied my coat, exposing my naked body, and knocked on the door. With hard nipples and a pussy that was already starting to get wet just from anticipating what was about to go down, I held my breath and became more and more excited with every clicking sound the locks made when being turned. The big smile on my face instantly turned into a frown when some large-eyed, blond-haired bitch answered the door. Thinking I was the other chick Benji had called over for the threesome they were about to have, she assessed my naked frame and nodded her head in approval before she stepped back and allowed me to walk in.

  With no questions asked, I beat the shit out of that girl for being in Benji’s house, then went in search of him. I found him lying in the middle of his king-size bed, smoking a cigarette, and I almost laughed at the scene before me. His room reeked of that bitch’s stale-ass pussy, so I knew he had just fucked her. He heard me clear my throat, and his eyes connected with mine before he started choking on the smoke he had just inhaled. I could tell he was shocked by my presence in his bedroom; however, his smooth, conniving ass quickly got over that when his little fuck buddy walked into the room, crying and holding her bloody head.

  Being the cocky son of a bitch he was, Benji got up from his bed and tended to the little sobbing ho. After getting her situated in the bathroom, he came back out to his bedroom and got in my face. We argued in hushed tones about me showing up at his house unannounced for a few minutes, before I punched him in his chest and slapped him on his face. I didn’t know why I was acting like that, because I wasn’t the type of girl who got into relationships, but something about seeing him with another girl after us spending so much time together and me doing all the shit I did for him had done something to me. I was so mad that I tried to slap him one more time. Catching my hand before it could connect with his face, Benji pulled me to his chest and crashed his lips against mine, taking away whatever fight I had left in me. The stress lifted from my body with every touch of his tongue.