What the fuck?
Bone watched with disappointment as Shaheed walked right past John Meyers and disappeared around the corner. John Meyers fired up his Maserati and sped out of the parking lot.
Bone was livid!
A few minutes later, Shaheed tapped on the window of the Charger. Bone unlocked the door and tore into Shaheed.
“Yo, what the fuck happened?! You had a clean shot!”
Shaheed frowned and shook his head. “Nah, man, you didn’t see that woman get out her car a few doors down. She was in a white Lexus.”
“I don’t give a fuck! You shoulda popped her ass too! She was collateral damage.”
“Plus, man, it’s still daylight outside,” Shaheed protested.
“That’s the fucking point!” Bone roared, as he pushed the start button and brought the SRT Charger to life. He slowly pulled from the parking lot chewing on his inner jaw. “Man! We had that nigga,” Bone said to himself.
“Aye, ain’t that the dude that run the record label?” Shaheed asked. “I just saw him at some music conference, and he was in XXL as executive of the year. This got something to do with Qwess?”
Bone cut his eyes at Shaheed but he didn’t offer a response. Finally, he said, “Don’t worry about all that. We’ll get him next time.”
Bone maneuvered the Charger through traffic exiting the city. A song from Flame quaked through the factory Beats speakers in the car as Shaheed rolled up a blunt.
“This that shit,” Shaheed said, licking the blunt closed. He fired up the weed and nodded his head to the music as Bone piloted the Charger onto Highway 74 headed back to Fayetteville.
They rode in silence for about thirty minutes when suddenly Bone pulled the car to the side of the road.
“Aye, let’s put these burners in the trunk just in case popo fuck around and stop us,” Bone decided. “As long as they in the trunk we good ’cause they can’t search the trunk without a warrant.”
“Hell, yeah.” High out of his mind, Shaheed thought that was a good idea.
The men exited the car and walked to the back of the Charger together. Shaheed pushed the button beneath the rear spoiler, and the trunk lid raised slowly.
Bone pointed inside the trunk. “Lift that gray thing up so we can put them down there beside the tire,” he said as he looked both ways to see if traffic was coming.
As soon as Shaheed ducked his head in the trunk to move the “gray thing,” Bone fired two shots from his silenced .45 right in the back of Shaheed’s wavy head. Shaheed actually saw his blood splatter on the carpet in the trunk, but he collapsed in the trunk, dead, before it registered that it was his blood.
Bone flipped the rest of Shaheed’s body into the trunk and slammed it shut. Then he called Qwess.
“OG, I got some news for you . . .”
Lake Lanier, Georgia
“What’s good, li’l homie?” Qwess said into the phone as he piloted his 103-foot yacht. Costing a little over $5 million, the ship came equipped with autopilot, but Qwess fancied himself a renaissance man so he took joy in doing the honors himself.
“I tried to cut that hit for you, but my engineer wasn’t ready to put the hours in the studio, so I had to get rid of him,” Bone said, speaking in code.
Qwess was confused. Oh, he understood Bone’s lingo, but he hadn’t issued a hit on anyone. “Which song you talking about?” he asked.
“You know, the one with the guy from back in the day singing on it.”
“Ohhhhh, that song. Was the artist in-house?” Qwess asked. Was he a member of the Crew?
“Sheeeit, I was going to the original source. I wasn’t even getting the sample cleared.”
Qwess paused to decipher what Bone was telling him. When it became clear, Qwess nearly panicked. “Whoa, hold off on that. Matter fact, pull up.”
“Say no more. I’ll be in touch.”
Qwess ended the call and replayed the conversation in his head. It sounded like Bone was telling him he was about to take out Linda Swansen or John Meyers. That move would be suicide! With a $75 million dollar lawsuit hanging on his head, he would be suspect number one.
Qwess exhaled a ball of stress and peered out of the cabin to the deck where Doe and Prince were fishing. Soon-to-be-eight-year-old Prince was struggling with his fishing pole while Doe tried to guide him. This trip was supposed to be about relaxation, a quick unwind session before the team left for L.A. to attend the BET Awards. However, it seemed Qwess was wearing stress and trouble like a blanket lately, more like a straitjacket.
“Yooo! Come on out here, man,” Doe called to Qwess. “These fish biting.”
Qwess joined Doe and Prince on the deck and found his pole.
“What was that about?” Doe asked. With his fisherman bucket hat pulled low, he resembled a mix between EPMD and Gilligan. His bare face was supposed to make him look younger, but with his light skin and long hair, he looked just like the rapper Ice-T—now.
Qwess waved his hand. “That ain’t about nothing.”
He said it nonchalantly, but the lie didn’t settle in his gut. He actually felt as if the walls were closing in on him. Grief, lawsuits, his frequent trips back to the streets, his renegade superstar riding with his nemesis . . . all of it was weighing on him, and wisdom taught him things would probably get worse before things got better.
He just didn’t know how right he was.
Chapter 8
South of France
Diamond was balling on another level. How else could Flame explain laying up on a yacht big enough to rival a battleship?
Diamond’s yacht was named Bertha, after his late mother. It boasted enough bedrooms to sleep twelve (outside of the eighteen-man crew), a full-scale kitchen, a dining area, movie theater, pool, spa, basketball/tennis court, dance room, and three full bars. A helicopter rested on the upper deck, four jet skis and a speedboat lay in the bowels of the ship. Six hundred five feet of floating luxury.
The first night they all had dinner on the aft bridge deck and watched the sunset. Beautiful! By the time the last drop of champagne dripped into Flame’s mouth, he and Kim were alone together. They spent the entire night together, fondling each other like teenagers, but Kim refused to let Flame go any further. It was like she had a force field around her vagina. She allowed him to smell it, feel it, and even see it. But she would not let him fuck her.
The following few days were a whirlwind of drinking, smoking, and eating. They spent the majority of the time coupled off, and Flame learned a lot about Kim.
Kim told Flame all about her growing up in Houston, Texas. Her parents were well off and supported her music aspirations early on. She and Sasha were like sisters. They grew up a mere house away from each other, while Monica was from the Southside. Just as their careers began to take off it was revealed that Sasha’s father had an illegitimate child. The news shattered Sasha’s family, and she delved into music to keep herself distracted. Their fledgling group needed a den mother to assist them as they traveled, so they chose Sasha’s mother to keep her away from home. From then on, Sasha’s family was virtually nonexistent. She moved in with Kim full-time, where she remained until they blew up.
Flame was digging Kim’s vibe. She was cool people, but he made a note to never confide in her. She spilled her “sister’s” business like she was subpoenaed at a deposition.
On the third day they found a cove tucked deep in the Mediterranean and dropped an anchor. Kim and Flame jumped on separate jet skis and ran them out like they were competing in the water Olympics. The European women gawked at Flame as if he was an exotic fish. Maybe they recognized him. Maybe they didn’t. Flame wasn’t concerned about those women. He was focused on Kim. She had hijacked all his attention. She hadn’t packed anything other than string bikinis for the whole trip, and she wore them often and well. Yellow ones. Reds. Zebra prints. Brazilian colors. The whole fuckin’ rainbow! Taunting and teasing Flame. After shutting Flame down the previous night, the way she was flaunting her cu
rves in his face should have been a crime.
Flame heard Kim was a virgin, and if she planned on maintaining that V-card she was messing with the wrong dude.
Flame finally cornered Kim on the beach. After playing tag, he snatched her up, and she fell on top of him in the soft sand. They kissed slowly and passionately with lots of tongue and saliva.
Flame dug inside her treasure. She was so wet, fish could’ve swum inside her walls. He deftly slipped a finger inside her G-string and started strumming like a guitar.
“Stop, Flame,” Kim moaned. But she kept grinding on his stiff dick. Flame was ready to roll her over and beat sparks from her pussy right there in front of everybody.
“Come on, Kim,” Flame begged.
“There are people out here,” Kim whined between kisses.
“And?”
She was hot. So wet. So ready.
“And?”
“I’m saying, just let me put the head in. Ain’t nobody thinking ’bout us. Come on, Kim. You scared?”
She was moaning and bucking so hard they might as well have been fuckin’. Flame reached inside his trunks to pull his man out. He was harder than granite and primed like a cannon. Kim saw it, and her eyes grew large, then small, as she fell into the moment.
Flame slid her yellow G-string aside, and the heat from her center rushed on Flame. Then . . .
SPLASH!
A tidal wave crashed over them. Soaked them to the bone. Flame peeked around Kim and saw Sasha climbing off a jet ski. As she stormed in their direction Flame saw that scene from James Bond with Halle Berry in his head. Sasha was sporting the same orange bikini, white belt and all. Only thing she was missing was the knife. But her curves cut the air sharper than any blade would. Flame visualized children swimming inside those hips.
Sasha snatched Kim up. “We need to talk.”
“What?” Kim asked, confused. But Sasha was already headed back to the jet ski. “Oh, lord, they at it again,” Kim huffed. “Look, I have to help Sasha. Her and Diamond at it again.”
Flame was standing there with a dick harder than a mountain and she was on some crusade with Sasha? Flame shook his head.
Kim looked back and stared right at Flame’s woody. “I got you, Flame. Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ma take care of you later.”
Then she jumped on her jet ski and followed Sasha, the machines spewing water up like a dolphin’s blowhole.
* * *
Later found Kim and Flame on the bow of the ship finishing what they began earlier. The others were lost in the bowels of the ship where the private quarters were located. The moon shone down on them, illuminating their paths to exploration as Flame kissed Kim long and deep. She pressed her bare back against the railing and thrust her hips forward into Flame. He could feel the heat from her pussy warming his bare stomach. He reached between her legs and slid his finger through the lips of her pussy. Her hot wetness coated his fingers, thick and sticky. He curled them inside her, and she went crazy.
“Ohhh, Flame,” she moaned into his ear, grinding against him. “Yessssss,” she hissed. She reached down and cupped his dick. Squeezed it. Stroked it. Moaned at the length and girth.
She must didn’t know who she was playing with, poor little church girl. He was Flame the Furrier. If skinning women was murder, he’d be Hitler. She wasn’t ready for him.
Or so he thought.
Kim dropped to her knees, and with no hesitation, put his erection in her warm mouth. His knees buckled and immediately Kim was in. She became a goddess in his eyes.
See, Flame had this principle. No matter how fine or beautiful a woman was, no matter how successful or rich, no matter how smart she was or how many degrees she hung on the wall, if she couldn’t suck a good dick, he had no need for her. Not in the long run.
The way Kim was getting down, he could see himself rocking with her forever. Church girl? Sheeeit! She must have likened herself to Bathsheba.
Kim got into a good rhythm, sucking him off with just the right amount of pressure, saliva, and hands. Flame cocked his head back and enjoyed the moment. This was the life of a superstar, getting good head in a foreign land from an international bitch on a yacht while the moon beamed down on him. This was the life he always envisioned for himself.
Kim continued to do her thing until Flame felt his nut bubbling to the surface. He was ready to squeeze off right in Kim’s mouth when suddenly she stopped sucking. She looked up at Flame while holding his stiffness in her hand. Slowly, she licked him up and down with the tip of her tongue, from the head down to his balls. Then she started tea-bagging them, dropping both balls inside her mouth one at a time. She definitely knew how to do more with that mouth than just sing. Flame was in heaven!
But he still wanted to feel that pussy.
Flame pulled Kim up and turned her around. He bent her over the railing. He slipped her G-string to the side and tested her with his finger. She was more than ready. He caught a whiff of her scent as evidence. Flame grabbed his dick and guided it toward her opening. He felt the hot heat from her pussy licking at his head. She was so tight he had a little trouble sliding his thick ten inches past the opening. Just as he was about to penetrate her, someone screamed.
Loud.
Kim spun around. “Ohmygod, that’s Sasha!”
Kim pushed Flame away and craned her neck in the air, her hand on her heaving chest.
Again, Sasha screamed.
Flame started in the direction but before he could pull the cape out, Kim stopped him.
“Wait. Don’t get involved,” Kim urged. “Don’t! You don’t want to cross Diamond.”
Flame was confused. Don’t cross Diamond? Her “sister” sounded like she was getting tarred and feathered and she was worried about him crossing Diamond?
A louder scream shot up from the bowels of the ship, and Flame couldn’t restrain himself. He tore off in their direction, half sliding, half stumbling down the steps two at a time. He hung a right at the base of the steps and ran right into the master bedroom. The door was half open. He saw Diamond’s bare ass hovering over Sasha’s naked body like Ali did to Liston in that great fight. Diamond drew his fist back to hit her again, but Flame dashed into the room and grabbed Diamond’s arm before it could connect with Sasha’s face.
Diamond flung Flame like a rag doll into the mirrored wall. He recovered, then ran and jumped on his broad back. Flame held on for dear life, silently urging Sasha to get light, but she remained sprawled out on the bed like she wanted to get beat or something.
“Fuck off me, son!” Diamond barked, as he slung Flame around the room into a brass lamp. He and the lamp tumbled to the carpeted floor. Diamond hoisted Flame into the air from the floor and pinned him to the wall. Flame thought he heard his back break.
“Chill, dawg! Don’t beat your girl!” Flame begged.
“Fuck dat! Bitch get outta line, she get beat!”
There was no way Flame could hold him back any longer. He had to try something, because Sasha still refused to move. The girl must have been a glutton for punishment.
“Yo, dawg, this supposed to be a vacation. Come onnn!” Flame urged. “Take it easy.”
Thankfully, those words seemed to do the trick. Diamond calmed down. It was as if the words had flipped a switch.
Diamond nodded. “You know, you right, you right, li’l homie. This is a vacation. Can’t let no bitch fuck dat up.”
“Yeah, you know, I’m saying . . .” He was saying anything to get him up out of that room.
Diamond stepped into a pair of basketball shorts from the floor and led the way outside. Through the mirror on the wall Flame saw him mouth something to Sasha. She cringed and frowned. Flame decided to follow Diamond before things escalated again, but before he walked through the door after Diamond, he spared a look over his shoulder at Sasha’s naked body. Even distressed and disheveled, she was still beautiful as an angel. The image of her red nipples and neatly trimmed vagina seared into Flame’s mind forever. He f
elt it was one of the most beautiful visions he had ever seen. He thought to himself, What kind of monster would abuse a woman this beautiful?
Flame and Diamond settled on the stern of the ship, and for the remainder of the night they posted up sipping champagne, blowing weed, and politicking. Of course, Diamond steered the conversation to what he cared about most: himself.
“Yo, the bitch love me, son. She’ll never leave me,” he stated confidently, referring to Sasha. “Know why?”
Flame eagerly awaited his answer. He wanted to know the secret. How could this rich, uncouth Neanderthal keep such a stunning woman loyal to him? What was the secret he possessed that made a woman that niggas lusted all over the world for stay with his abusive ass?
Diamond allowed Flame to hang on to his words before he answered, “’Cause I treat her like any other bitch.”
Flame thought his ears were deceiving him. Was he serious? Clearly, Diamond had clearly flipped his wig. Yet he continued with the fuckery.
“Word, son. Let me tell you something about women,” he began. “Women like to be abused, B; I’m telling you! They love drama! Yo, if you don’t have drama in your relationship a bitch will create some just to be happy. These bitches don’t know what happiness is because a lot of these bitches come from broken homes. They never seen happy before, so they don’t want to be it.”
Flame thought about what Kim had said about Sasha when she snitched her out. Surely, that was the low point of Sasha’s life, and here he was using it to exploit her.
Diamond continued, “And Sasha is no different. She probably worse. If I treated her like she deserved to be treated, she’d take advantage of me. I treat her like she wants to be treated, so I’m taking advantage of her.” He shrugged. “It’s simple. It’s either I lead or I follow, and I’m a boss, so you already know.”
Diamond really believed the hype. He believed every word he uttered. Flame was flabbergasted.
Diamond continued to bash women and brag about how he abused Sasha. With every word he spoke, Flame was rearranging his motives inside his head. Initially, all he’d wanted to do was fuck Sasha, but if she was an accomplice to this type of treatment, then he knew he could easily sweep her off her feet and make her his. Like he was watching a movie, Flame saw pictures of himself and Sasha ruling the entertainment world. The artist in him painted vivid images of him holding Sasha’s hand at some of the same events he’d seen her attend with Diamond. He simply exchanged Diamond’s face for his own. The sight was so pretty he had to stifle a smile while Diamond ranted and pretty much laid his broad in Flame’s lap.
Dirty Music Page 7
