Ghetto Girls IV

by Anthony Whyte

  “Die muthafucka die…”

  Eric jumped out of the bed like it was on fire. He was breathing hard, walking around the bedroom, when he realized there was knocking. He wiped his face and coughed in an attempt to clear the fright from his throat. Eric hurried to answer the door.

  “Who is it?” he asked, slowly coming to reality.

  “It’s Sophia.”

  Eric straightened himself and glanced at the diamond encrusted Rolex on his wrist. He dabbed at perspiration on his face, walked to the door and opened the door.

  “Hi Sophia. I…”

  “Eric, are you alright?” Sophia hastily asked.

  He watched her walking, sexily wearing a pink velour shorts suit with a worried look on her face and glancing around the bedroom.

  “Thanks for your concern but there’s no one here but me,” Eric said, smiling.

  “I thought I heard voices…”

  “Screaming for you? It’s my heart trying to reach yours,” he flirted.

  Sophia tried to hide the smile bubbling at her lips. She paused and tried to hold a serious glance at Eric, but his eyes were smiling at her. Sophia’s eyes danced in delight and her expression melted into a big grin.

  “Nice try. I thought maybe your teenage lover was lurking somewhere inside here,” she said, smiling slyly.

  “My teenage what…?”

  “Your teenage love. You know, Josephine. The young love of your life.”

  Eric hastily slipped an expression of ignorance on his face as he walked toward Sophia.

  “There’s no young love except the rebirth of what I’m feeling for you, honey. You’re all I need,” he said and slipped his hand around Sophia’s waist.

  “Maybe she’s just overly concerned but she certainly seemed to be really worried about you.”

  “Maybe she just likes blowing up my phone. It’s obsession, she’s a fan.”

  “Really?”

  “She’s wishing for a celebrity guy to be with her. She might be someone’s next perfect picture but she’s not you.”

  “Are you doing anything to lead her on?”

  “Why we even talking about that? Let’s talk about us. You and I, baby, and what we want to do for the rest of our lives.”

  “Okay. Let’s discuss this later after dinner,” Sophia smiled. “I need a little time to think.”

  “About another hour or so?”

  “Yeah sure, about eight-thirty,” Sophia said and deftly evaded Eric’s lips as she walked away.

  CHAPTER 13

  Saturday evening, Eric took Deedee and Sophia out for dinner at east Hampton’s finest restaurant. The place was brimming with celebrity diners and A-listers. Eric, Deedee and Sophia were seated at a quiet table savoring the moment. They ate heartily, laughing and enjoying the atmosphere. It brought Deedee much warmth to see her uncle and his one-time fiancée happily together again. She hoped the moment would last for eternity.

  “This feels like old times,” Deedee said.

  “Yeah. This is the best meal I’ve had in some time,” Eric said, pausing to look at Sophia.

  “My compliments to the chef. The food was really wonderful,” Sophia beamed.

  “I know, but it’s also your presence,” Eric said as he smiled at Sophia.

  “Oh, please excuse me,” Deedee said, standing to leave the table, but Sophia stood and left with her as well. “It seems we both got to go,” Deedee smiled.

  Eric watched his niece walking away arm in arm with the woman he loved. He smiled and pulled out the case holding the new ten karat diamond bracelet he had bought Sophia. Eric placed it by her glass. He sat a case down with another diamond bracelet he’d bought Deede as well. Eric smiled and ordered a bottle of champagne. The waiter brought three glasses. Eric was about to send the extra long-stemmed glass back but thought for a second and changed his mind.

  “I think it’s okay,” he said.

  Deedee and Sophia arrived just as the waiter was through pouring champagne in the glasses.

  “What’s the occasion?” Sophia asked.

  Deedee saw the third glass and rushed to thank her uncle then she noticed the jewelry case sitting next to the glass. Both Deedee and Sophia picked up the cases and opened them. They hugged and smothered Eric with kisses when they saw what the cases contained.

  “For you Dee. Graduating is an important thing. And to Soph, your gift is for a different type of graduation. We’re graduating to a better future,” Eric said, raising his glass.

  “This is perfect,” Deedee exclaimed, slipping the bracelet on her arm. “Thank you,” she said, raising her glass and sipping champagne. “I love you Uncle E and thanks so much for my gift.”

  “Eric, you shouldn’t have…” Sophia said and her voice trailed as she became emotional. “I’m trying not to cry but I can’t stop myself,” she said, her voice cracking. “I love you.” She continued smiling through her tears.

  They sipped champagne and later Eric paid the tab. The valet brought the Maybach around front and they hopped in. Eric sped off and made it back with the quickness to his lavish mansion. They sat around watching a movie. After awhile, Deedee kissed both of them on their cheeks and ran upstairs.

  “Goodnight Dee,” Sophia shouted after her.

  Alone with Eric, she lounged next to him as he snuggled up to her. They kissed passionately for a few minutes.

  “Okay, alright, lover-boy. I think it’s time we do some talking,” Sophia said, pushing Eric off her.

  He was persistent and wasn’t making it easy for Sophia to resist him. Eric’s tongue went inside her mouth and they were locked passionately embracing.

  “I thought we agreed to talk after dinner,” Sophia started saying but Eric was hot for her and she wanted him in return. His lips cut off her breath and Sophia hugged him. He slipped his hand under her dress and was reaching for her panties. Sophia was gasping and her body trembled as sexual feelings crept through her body. But she still held back.

  She was about to give in when they were rudely interrupted by an outburst of gunfire. Eric shoved Sophia to the plush carpet and crept on top, using his body to shield hers. They stayed low as the fusillade of bullets continued flying through windows, shattering glasses and leaving splinters all over the den. For a few tense minutes, the staccato sound of automatic weapons were buzzing. Round after round ricocheted off the walls. Then the place fell silent.

  “Dee…” Eric shouted, running to a drawer and getting a gun. He raced up the stairs as Sophia trembled in complete shock. She held her breath until she saw Eric running back. “She’s alright,” he said.

  “Eric, Eric you’ve got to report this to the police. Someone is obviously trying to kill you and—”

  “Go to the police?” Eric asked. “They don’t give a damn about me. They’re too busy trying to frame my ass.”

  “Eric!” Sophia shouted in rage. “Now you’re sounding more and more like a common criminal. You’re like those guys on the street. I don’t understand you anymore,” Sophia said with a strained tone in her voice. “Here you are trying to make up with me, telling me about the future, and this is what your future is about, huh Eric? Me living like a damn gang moll with guns going off around me every few minutes? Eventually one of those bullets are going to hit a target and you won’t be able to bring me back, you selfish bastard. You’re playing gangster with no regards for anyone’s life or safety. It doesn’t work for me, Eric.”

  He quietly stared at her. In a single moment, Eric regretted every wrong thing he had done in his life. His mind raced to find the right things to say but nothing seemed to fit this situation. He remembered how it all began, after his niece was raped. He had gone to his good friend Busta. Eric’s thoughts went back to the inauspicious evening they met at G’s bar.

  They had known each other since the twelfth grade at Erasmus High School. Busta was always into hustling, everything from drugs to numbers to girls. Eric wasn’t sure how Busta met Sophia. Now he knew. He was always into a lot
of illegal activities.

  Busta and Eric were sitting in a booth. Eric signaled for the waiter to bring more drinks. The waiter returned with two shots and a bottle of Dom. He placed them on the table and removed the empty glasses.

  “What is it then, man? You don’t look right. Is Sophia putting pressure on you ‘bout marriage? You know when a woman gets near thirty they gotta know the man with them is willing to make ‘em legal,” Busta chuckled. He breathed a sigh of relief when Eric joined in.

  “It’s all good between me and Sophia. I love her and…”

  “So when you gonna marry her? I introduced her to you, what, four years ago now?”

  “My man, Busta, let me tell you. I sing your praises and wish you the best on the daily. You did me a real solid. You’ll be the first to know as soon as I set a date. It’s any day now.”

  “So if it ain’t Sophie and it ain’t the music biz, what da fuck you said we were gonna meet about, Eric?”

  “It’s my niece, Deedee.”

  “Tell me she ain’t strung out on crack like her mom? Is it ecstasy? Lemme know sump’n…”

  Tears welled in Eric’s eyes. Busta looked like he was going through deep emotional strain also.

  “Deedee was raped by some dirty muthafuckas,” Eric said, trying to restrain his emotion.

  “Who? What da fuck are you talking about, E.?” Busta stared disbelievingly, rubbing his mouth and taking shots of liquor to his head. “When did that shit happen? You know who the fuck the low lives are? This shit gotta be dealt with and fast.”

  Eric picked up the slender shot-glass and sighed heavily. He raised his eyebrows and his nostrils flared in anger. There was a fire burning inside him.

  “Hell yeah! No doubt about that,” Eric replied.

  “When did da bullshit go down?” Busta asked, much louder now.

  “Over this past weekend,” Eric said.

  The words left his mouth dry. He raised the glass and flung the liquor to the back of his throat. His lips came together in a smacking sound.

  “And she knows who did it?”

  “Some guy called Deja. Well, she didn’t actually say anything. What happened was she woke up screaming. I got to her room and she told me she was dreaming Deja was trying to rape her again.”

  “So there’s your man,” Busta said.

  “Well, have you ever heard of him?” Eric asked.

  Busta sipped and pondered, scratching his head. He ordered the waiter to bring the whole bottle.

  “I know of him. He’s small time,” Busta said after a while. “Just another crack dealer the world can do without. He hang around with some of the West Side peeps. That’s who supply him. Let’s bag the muthafucka!” he continued. “Bum ass nigga! His boys who be hanging wid him be packing and he’s probably holding a nine or sump’n, too. Da muthafucka is a rapist, E. He’s got to go. Let’s hit…”

  “I can’t be involved. Sophia got me legal and I can’t be doing anything to fuck that up,” Eric said, easing back into his seat. “Sophia will dump me, man.”

  As he thought about it, Eric realized just how intuitive his statement had been. Sitting in his bullet-peppered Hampton mansion, Eric watched Sophia cringing fearfully when she looked at him. He still loved her and wanted her but it seemed to be virtually impossible to attain now. His mind harped back to the time a year and a half ago when he and Busta made the incredibly grave pact. Shortly after Deedee was raped, Eric found himself anxious for revenge. It was with that purpose in mind he met with Busta.

  “Don’t even concern yourself with all that worry. I know how to handle this. It’s gonna cost you small change. Put up the price tag and I’ll hook it up and it will never be traced to you.”

  Eric picked up his beer and gulped. He motioned to the waiter for more. He picked up the fresh beer and watched as Busta did the same. They sat drinking without speaking for some time.

  “Six grand,” Busta said.

  The bottles clinked as Eric and Busta toasted the new deal. Eric sipped his beer with a renewed sense of calm. He knew the problem would be taken care of. Busta was deeply connected in the street. Both men burped and laughed, releasing the tension.

  “Aaaaaaaaahh” Eric said. “This spot still gets crowded. I haven’t been up in here in a while.”

  “Yep, it’s the same. Ain’t too much changed. These fine looking ladies keep me coming here, four, five, six times a week.”

  “You need to find you a nice wifey and settle, big man.”

  “Nah, I ain’t that lucky.”

  Eric’s thoughts were interrupted when Sophia walked back toward him. He looked on in wide-eyed surprise as she undid her dress.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t do this,” she said hurriedly.

  Baffled, Eric watched Sophia slipped out of her dress and turned around showing her back. He stared at her in painful surprise and flinched when she faced him.

  “How did it happen?” Eric asked not looking at her.

  “Is it not plain enough, Eric Ascot?” Sophia angrily asked.

  “I couldn’t look at it,” he regretfully disclosed.

  “Look at it, Eric. It says ‘I will get you.’ It’s is a reminder from your arch-enemy, Lil’ Long. He chose my body to leave this message for you, Eric,” Sophia said and let her dress fall to the floor. “Because of you some asshole off the streets carved his message into my body with a blade.”

  Sophia pulled her dress back on and began to walk away. Eric moved to stop her but she shook his hand off her shoulder and kept on walking.

  “I’m sorry…” he whispered in a faint voice.

  Tears flowed down Deedee’s face as she stood at the top of the stairs watching the scene. A few minutes later, Sophia was fully dressed. Eric, Deedee and Sophia went through the inside door to the garage, got in the black Phantom and quickly drove off. The siesta had taken a tragic turn. He punched the steering wheel as he quietly steered the vehicle to the Long Island Expressway, heading north to the city.

  Eric drove Deedee and Sophia to her apartment. He stopped outside and waited for a minute.

  “Look I’m sorry,” he said, but Sophia was already out the car. “Deedee, I think it’s best you stay with Sophia until I hire some more security,” Eric said, sounding sadder than he planned. ”Sophia will get some of your clothes.”

  “Goodnight Uncle Eric,” Deedee said, hugging him and getting out the car.

  Eric exited and walked with her to the entrance of the building. He waved to them when they were inside the building. Deedee turned around, waving while Sophia kept walking. As soon as he got inside the car, Eric’s cellphone rang. It was his attorney. He put him on the car phone.

  “Eric, how’re you doing?”

  “Just great. Ehat’s up?”

  “I need a favor from you Eric. I got two girls needing a job. Their parole officer is being a hard nose and I thought maybe you can hire them to do filing or any sort of office work. And they’re some beautiful girls. Nice legs and ass—”

  “I need a favor from you. Why don’t you shut up already, Max.”

  “Eric, my man, I’m sorry. I know you don’t get down like that.”

  “Thank you. Your apology is enough.”

  “Eric, what about the girls?”

  “I have no work for them. Tell them I don’t have the time.”

  “C’mon man, for me.”

  “Alright, send them over Monday morning. Maybe the studio engineers could use some help.”

  “Thanks, Eric. Enjoy your weekend.”

  “You do the same. Thanks.”

  Eric gunned the Maybach and dialed Showbiz on the cellphone.

  “Show, what up, man?”

  “What up E.? How’re you, man?”

  “Chillin’. What does your schedule look like tomorrow? Can you make it to the studio? Alright cool. Bring Silky Black and Lord Finesse too if you can. I need some of those crazy beats he’s been brewing. Later,” Eric said and hung up.

  Eric drove to a ba
r and parked in the lot. He went inside and drank heavily, trying to make sense of Sophia’s reaction. At the end of all his drinking, he came to a grim conclusion. Sophia was right, but there was no turning back. His conscience refused to let him off the hook. He tried calling Sophia’s number several times but his fingers wouldn’t dial the telephone number. What was he going to say? The question haunted him and Eric finally called his apartment. Josephine picked up and she was happy to hear his voice. He told her where he was and she was ecstatic about coming to meet him.

  He was surprised by her quick arrival. Josephine walked into the lounge and all eyes were on her. Tall, sexy and statuesque, she was strutting in four-inch high heel pumps. Her rock star jeans appeared painted-on and her top, a clingy, silk blouse, revealed it all. Josephine smiled seductively when she saw the inebriated Ascot waving at her.

  “Hi Daddy.” She greeted him with a kiss and scooted inside the booth with him. “You look like you started without me baby.”

  “You’re looking good,” Eric complimented.

  “You like, huh?”

  “Yeah, I like. Too bad you’re not old enough. I’d buy you a drink,” he smiled.

  A waiter appeared and Josephine smiled at him. One look was all it took and he was ready to bring her anything from the bar.

  “I’ll have a Texas size champagne cocktail.”

  “Yes, and you sir?”

  “Oh yes, bring us a bottle of Dom and two glasses,” Eric said.

  Josephine shamelessly eyed him, prospects of lust wild in her soft brown eyes. She spoke after the waiter walked away.

  “You’re feeling alright? I mean can you handle anymore drinks? Ha, ha, I’ve never seen you like this.” Josephine’s smile was sexually inviting.

  “Neither have I. But every so often everybody deserves to get out of the box they’ve built around themselves,” Eric said. He glanced around the lounge before continuing. “Most of the people in here are itching to do something different once in awhile. We’re not the same, but we function the same way.” The waiter arrived.