Killer Dolls, Part 3

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Killer Dolls, Part 3 Page 2

by Nisa Santiago


  A heavyset woman sat Ri-Ri down at the table across from Aoki and smiled at Aoki.

  “How she been lately?” Aoki asked.

  “Pretty much the same,” the lady replied. “You have fifteen minutes with her.”

  Aoki nodded. Fifteen minutes was fine. She was grateful just to see her old friend again, though the girl sitting in front of her was now nothing but an empty shell. Despite her condition, Aoki liked to see and confide in her friend, even if it was a one-way conversation. It felt like confession at a Catholic church.

  “It’s good to see you again, Ri-Ri,” Aoki said.

  Ri-Ri stared off into space, looking removed from Aoki and everything around her.

  The damage to her mind and soul was deeply rooted, and Aoki was partially responsible. Tisa had become a liability, and it was risky to keep her alive. Aoki had confessed to Ri-Ri that she had killed Tisa. There was no response from Rihanna. No emotion.

  During her visits, Aoki told Ri-Ri everything, from being shot and left for dead to AZ being gay and their beef, to her training on The Farm, The Commission, and the kills she’d executed for profit. Ri-Ri remained still like a piece of furniture. Aoki didn’t care; Ri-Ri was a friendly face from her past life and the only family Aoki felt she had.

  Her fifteen minutes went by quickly. The heavyset lady came to their table and escorted Ri-Ri away from the visiting area and back to her padded room. Ri-Ri was on constant suicide watch because of the numerous times she’d tried to kill herself. Thankfully she hadn’t had an incident in over a year now.

  Aoki released a deep sigh, and then she removed herself from the table and then the room. There were always mixed feelings about seeing Rihanna. It was hard seeing her in such a fragile and deteriorating condition. But that was life, and she couldn’t change things.

  Aoki walked toward her car, and as she moved through the parking lot, she couldn’t help feeling that someone was watching her. She stopped her stride and pivoted where she stood, her eyes keenly taking in her surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary. The Farm had taught her to have a photographic memory and be able to spot the extraordinary no matter how ordinary it looked. But there was nothing strange and no visible threat.

  She continued walking to her car and climbed inside. For a moment, she lingered behind the steering wheel, thinking. She was six months from her twenty-fifth birthday, and that meant she would be able to age out of The Commission, collect her millions that were held in an overseas bank account, and try to live a normal and productive life if she wanted to—or if she was able to.

  She was almost a quarter of a century old, and though it was a young age for many, it felt like a lifetime for Aoki. No one would ever be able to comprehend the things she had done and seen. Truthfully, Aoki was becoming tired of the wild, murderous life she had been thrust into. Paranoid, she constantly had nightmares of being murdered or betrayed. Though she was living the good life in her Manhattan loft, she was damaged goods too, maybe far worse than Rihanna.

  Not many of her peers from Brooklyn made it to their twenty-fifth birthday, and sometimes Aoki wasn’t sure she would. Six months was a long time for her, and anything could happen. Aoki promised herself that after her twenty-fifth birthday, she would never take a life again. She was going to retire and try and make a real life for herself. She was ready to contradict herself and her beliefs and maybe find love again—this time, in a different country.

  That whole lifestyle felt like it was light years away, but she thought she deserved happiness too. Yet, she wondered if a woman who had caused so much death and misery could ever find true happiness.

  Three

  AZ grunted and moaned. “Oh shit! I’m gonna fuckin’ come!” He thrust his way into paradise, feeling the tightness of the glory hole he was in. The erection had felt like his hardest. He was hitting it from the back, gripping the hips, ready to explode like a volcano. The feeling was like no other, satisfying like soul food to a starving man. Sweat poured from his brow. He could feel his ejaculation brewing. He inhaled and exhaled as his balls slammed against the finest piece of ass he’d had in a long while.

  “Fuck me!” his lover announced.

  AZ continued to grunt. He had needed this, some quality time with his lover. “I’m gonna fuckin’ come!” he announced again.

  A few more hard thrusts and intense grabbing, and AZ finally let loose, exploding his load into his lover, Baron. It felt like his ejaculation would never stop. It was strong and intense. AZ quivered after releasing his seed, and the two men collapsed against each other on the bed, smiling, their manly bodies entwined with contentment and hard breathing. AZ held Baron in his arms like he was a soft woman.

  “That was fun,” Baron said.

  AZ chuckled. “It was. I always have a nice time with you.”

  They stared into each other’s eyes, like children staring at the stars out in the country. Both of them gleamed with gratification. AZ squeezed Baron tighter into his arms. He loved the way his pale flesh, smooth thin chest, and white ass enticed him.

  Like AZ, Baron was in the closet, and there was no way he was coming out. Baron was a successful realtor from a prominent, influential family with a wife and three kids. There was no way his family, especially his father, was going to accept his homosexuality. His father was a concentrated homophobic and thought homosexuality was a grave sin. He had already made several threats that Baron would be written out of the will and disowned if he turned out to be gay.

  AZ and Baron had rented a fully furnished condo in the District Heights of Columbia, a few miles from Washington, D.C. The area was private and covert. The lease was in AZ’s name. There, they could enjoy each other without their neighbors knowing who they were or what they were about. It was their private paradise not just for sex, but for watching movies together, cooking, and casual talk. It was their second home.

  They’d met eight months earlier at a bar in D.C. After repeated moments of eye contact, AZ took the initiative to spark conversation with Baron. They found they had a lot in common and a lot to lose. Baron was a great match for AZ. He wasn’t like Conner, eager for love and a relationship, acting childish when things didn’t go his way. Baron was no threat to AZ’s double life, and the sex was good.

  After an hour of relaxing together in the soft king-size canopy bed with high thread-count sheets, AZ removed himself from Baron’s sweet grasp and started to get dressed.

  Baron rolled over butt naked and smiled at AZ. “Are you leaving already?”

  “Yeah, it’s getting late, and I got a long drive to New York tomorrow.”

  “You and these constant trips to New York,” Baron said. “I’m starting to think you have another lover there.”

  AZ laughed it off. “Nah, it’s just business. And, besides, no one can replace you and that hard white dick of yours. You know I like that white meat.”

  “You better.”

  AZ pulled up his jeans and buttoned his shirt. Baron was a breath of fresh air for him. Someone he could confide in and be himself around.

  Baron propped himself up against the headboard and watched AZ get dressed. Everything about AZ turned him on. His marriage was a sham—ten years with his wife and she’d never made him feel like this.

  Baron removed a cigarette from the pack on the nightstand and lit it. He took a few drags and asked the inevitable. “So, when am I going to see you again?”

  “When I get back from New York,” AZ replied.

  “And when will that be?”

  “Sometime tomorrow night.”

  Baron huffed. He then asked, “How’s the wife?”

  AZ laughed. “Like you care about her.”

  “I don’t. I only care about you . . . very much. The sex anyway. The sex is what I look forward to.”

  “Same here.”

  “My wife is a complete bitch!” Baron announce
d. “But I’m stuck with her because of my father. And he’s an asshole. If he ever found out about you and me, he would destroy me and come after you.”

  “I’m not worried about your father. He don’t know me, and he don’t wanna know me.”

  “That’s what I like about you, AZ; you don’t take any shit from anyone.”

  “I’m from Brooklyn; we had to survive out there.”

  “My Brooklyn bad boy,” Baron said with enthusiasm.

  “You know it. Anyway, I gotta get home to the wife and family.”

  Baron sighed. “Same here.”

  AZ continued dressing, and Baron joined him. Within moments, the two were fully dressed and ready to exit the condo. Once again, they had put the place to good use. But now it was back to reality and back into the closet.

  AZ was the first to leave. He kissed Baron on the lips before his departure and climbed into his G-Class Benz and headed home. Baron climbed into his Lexus and did the same.

  *

  It was after midnight when AZ came through the front doors of his lavish home. The place was dark and quiet. He made his way toward the steps and ascended to the master bedroom. His wife was curled up under the covers sleeping cozily, her back to the door. He crept into the bathroom and took a shower to remove any scent of Baron from his body. After the shower, he quietly climbed into bed with his wife and went to sleep. His trip to New York was urgent, and he needed his rest.

  The following morning, AZ was up early for his trip out of town. His wife Wendy was taking a shower, and it was AZ’s turn to get the kids ready for school.

  He went into their room with a smile on his face. Randy was three, and Terrance was two. They were the apple of his eye. AZ was a proud daddy, and his two sons made him happy. If he had ever done something right in his life, it was having them.

  Their room was decorated with Transformers and Ninja Turtles, his sons’ favorite cartoon characters. They slept in twin beds with Transformer bedding, and they were spoiled with toys and games. AZ wanted to give his kids what he didn’t have growing up.

  He woke up Randy first then Terrance. The two sleepyheads didn’t want to get up, but he made them. He kissed them good morning and helped them wash up and get dressed. Years ago, AZ didn’t see himself living this life—married with children—but times had definitely changed for him.

  While his kids were eating their cereal in the kitchen, he went back upstairs to check on his wife, who was hurrying to get dressed. She was anticipating a busy day ahead. AZ walked into the room and kissed her on the lips. Their kiss was dry; Wendy seemed more interested in getting dressed and preparing for her day at the office than showing her husband any affection. AZ didn’t mind. He had gotten all the affection and loving he needed the night before with Baron. Wendy was always busy with her career, bringing her work home.

  “Is this trip to New York today that important?” she asked him gruffly. “Because my day is going to be hectic, and I might not be able to pick up the kids from day care. I have three depositions to take care of and a pretrial hearing this afternoon.”

  “I told you, it is. My partners and I are working on this new development agreement. We have our hands in some prime real estate in Manhattan.”

  Wendy frowned and continued to scurry around the bedroom, collecting her things and putting together an outfit. She went with a houndstooth skirt suit and black heels, and let her long black hair flow down to her shoulders.

  She sighed. “I guess if it’s business, then I’ll call the nanny and let her know to pick up the kids.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Don’t be too late coming back.”

  “It depends on traffic, babe. You know I have to make this money for us to continue living like this. You like this house, the cars, the clothes, and the gifts I give to you and the kids?”

  “You know I do,” she said proudly.

  “And for that to continue to happen, it takes sacrifices and long hours commuting from here to New York.”

  “I don’t see why you have to invest in property so far away.”

  “It’s where the money is at, and New York is what I know. We can turn over a fortune in New York flipping these low-end properties and getting into this gentrification. Besides, you know I grew up there. I know my shit, babe.”

  “I know you do, but the kids do miss you.”

  “I’ll make it up to them. Promise.”

  Another deep sigh escaped from Wendy’s lips. She looked at her husband and believed he was doing what was best for the family and their future. AZ had become a prominent businessman in her eyes. His fortune afforded her the life she always wanted growing up. Her income as an assistant state’s attorney was okay, but sixty-five thousand dollars a year was a drop in a bucket, considering their lifestyle.

  Wendy and the kids climbed into the Porsche Cayenne while AZ watched them from the living room window. He waved goodbye to his family and kept his eyes on the vehicle leaving the residence.

  The second they were gone, he got on his cell phone and made an important call. Three rings later, Heavy Pop picked up.

  “Tell me you in New York, nigga,” Heavy Pop said.

  “No, I’m not. I’ll be there in about three hours.”

  Heavy Pop groaned. “Fuck Maryland! I don’t know how you can live out there with them uptight country folks, nigga.”

  “It’s not that bad out here.”

  “To me it is.”

  “You need a change.”

  “And you need to hurry ya ass so we can lock down this deal.”

  “You tell Mateo I’ll be in town soon. This meeting is still happening.”

  “It needs to happen.”

  “I’ll be there. Call you when I’m on the road.” AZ exhaled and hung up.

  He turned and took in the furnishings of his home. He thought about the lies he continued to tell his wife and his peoples.

  AZ packed his 9mm and jumped into his Benz truck. The moment he started the car, he became startled by the radio playing too damn loud so suddenly. “What the fuck!” he uttered, and quickly turned it down to normal volume.

  That was odd to him. He never had his radio blasting like that. Lately, strange things had been happening that he couldn’t explain.

  Two weeks earlier, he had parked his Benz in one place, only to find it parked somewhere else. He had no clue how that had happened. The strange occurrences were making him super paranoid. He felt somebody was fucking with him. Who, he had no idea, but they were playing with fire and would get burned beyond recognition.

  AZ looked around and saw nothing or no one strange. He shrugged off the odd radio situation and pulled out of his driveway. He lit a cigarette and made his way toward I-95 North for the three-hour drive to New York.

  AZ and Heavy Pop had significantly risen in the drug game and were now the biggest distributors from New York to Miami. Both men had everything they wanted, from wealth to respect to power. But AZ was living a triple life. In Upper Marlboro, he was a husband, a family man, and a prominent businessman. In New York and everywhere else, he was a drug lord whose reputation preceded him. Then, of course, when he needed love and sex, there was Baron.

  AZ bought up real estate in low-income areas, created multiple healthy businesses, and invested in gentrification. His wife didn’t know that all of his business deals were funded with drug money. When it came to his home life and business, AZ painstakingly dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s. He had outstanding lawyers to help him with the paperwork and launder his money. He did his homework and took his time in building up both worlds so they wouldn’t easily come apart.

  Wendy, being an assistant state’s attorney in Baltimore, was unknowingly sleeping with the enemy. She helped prosecute violent criminals every day, especially drug dealers, while sharing her bed with a major one. AZ knew if the truth ever
came out, it would destroy Wendy’s career and break her heart.

  *

  With traffic moving well, AZ eased through the Lincoln Tunnel. It was early afternoon, and midtown Manhattan was full of life. He steered his Benz toward Le Bernardin on West 51st Street, parked nearby, and exited his vehicle. He breathed in the city air. Being back in the New York was a good feeling for him. This was his home. His life. AZ had a lot of memories in New York, some good, some bad, and some definitely ugly. But this city had made him the man he was. He beat the odds stacked against him, surviving war and death, and became the man he always knew he was meant to be.

  He walked toward the restaurant and dialed Heavy Pop on his cell phone. Two rings later, his friend picked up.

  “I’m here,” AZ said. “Where are you?”

  “We inside,” Heavy Pop said.

  “Be in there in a minute.”

  AZ ended the call and walked in the front entrance. The décor expressed a sexy French flair and jaw-dropping design, and the ambiance was lovely, with gourmet cocktails and attractive clientele. AZ informed the maître d’ whom he was there to see, and the attractive, pale, well-dressed woman led him away from the main dining area.

  Heavy Pop and Mateo were seated beneath a glass chandelier in the private back room sipping on cocktails and having casual conversation. Both men stood up to greet AZ as soon as they saw him. Heavy Pop greeted his brother from another mother with dap and a brotherly hug, and Mateo casually shook his hand.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, AZ,” Mateo said.

  “Likewise.”

  Mateo said politely, “I appreciate you taking the time to meet me in the city, knowing you’re coming all the way from Maryland.”

  “Business is business, and the drive doesn’t bother me, as long as it’s worth my time.”

  AZ locked eyes with Mateo, trying to read everything about him. He’d heard so much about the man who was once an icon to them. Mateo was in his mid-forties and was a major player in the drug game for decades. But things had changed.

 

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