A Sip of Hennessy

by Lucinda John

  “Make love to me.” Henny’s voice was filled with desperation as her eyes pleaded for me to stay. “Please…”

  Pushing Hennessy’s legs back, I positioned myself between her thighs in the missionary position. Delivering hard, yet soft strokes, our fingers interlocked above our heads while our soul passionately connected. Kissing away Hennessy’s tears, I was able to bask in the moment. The fire that radiated off our bodies while we made love scared the fuck out of a nigga. For a second, I had thoughts of this being the last moment I shared with Hennessy. Pressing my lips against hers, our tongues collided until we simultaneously shared a powerful orgasm.

  “Please don’t go,” Hennessy begged. “We can just kick back and chill today.”

  “Alright, let me just pick up this money, and Imma come right back. Give me two hours to handle this drop, then I’m all yours.”

  I really wanted to spin the block on Dre’s bitch ass but decided that shit could wait another day.

  “That’s your word?” Hennessy’s eyes fluttered as she looked up at me.

  “My word is all I got, shorty,” I assured her.

  Rolling off Hennessy’s body, I went into the bathroom to wash my dick off. While I got dressed, I peeped Hennessy sulking. I hated seeing my baby down and shit, so I decided to send her out for a day of pampering. Walking over to the closet, I opened my safe and pulled out a knot of money for Henny to blow. I didn’t indulge in splurging, but I needed something to keep Hennessy occupied while I handled business.

  “Shorty, go blow a bag until daddy comes home.” I smiled, placing the money in the new Louie bag I copped her from Gracia

  “Two hours,” Henny stressed.

  “Two hours, shorty.” Securing my gun in the small of my back, I kissed Henny for the final time before walking out of the house and jumping in the car with South.

  “Damn, nigga, you had me out here waiting on you for a lil min,” South snapped.

  Reaching for the blunt he was puffing on, I inhaled a long toke, allowing the purple haze to run through my lungs before pushing the smoke out through the corner of my lips.

  “My shorty was tripping on me and shit,” I mumbled, taking another pull of the blunt.

  “That’s all they do. Nag and trip.” South shook his head.

  “Aye, head over to the duplexes on 8th Ave for me right quick,” I replied, ignoring South’s comment.

  “Real shit, if our crew gon’ stay getting money on Dre’s old block, we need to handle his ass before he claps at us first. That nigga been too quiet.” South lowered the volume to the radio, filling the space in the car with silence.

  “That nigga quiet because he too busy trying to find a plug to fuck with him. We Gucci, man, let me handle this money shit first, then we gon’ smoke that nigga. Until then, let’s keep getting this paper.” Reaching in, I pumped up the volume of the radio, putting an end to the conversation.

  When South pulled up to my destination, I nodded for him to stay in the car while I got out to handle my business. Walking toward the duplexes, I made sure I was out of sight before using the back gate that led to a house, which no one but my realtor knew about. Using the majority of the money I made off my first flip for the plug, I purchased a three-bedroom house that I used to stash all my dope and money. Everyone was under the impression that I left all my shit at Jazzy’s house, but little did they know, I stayed two steps ahead of the game.

  Keying in the security code, I granted myself access to the massive, empty home. Walking across the marble tile floors, my footsteps echoed throughout the house. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with this house. I didn’t know if I wanted to move Hennessy into it or flip it, but for now, this was my little hidden secret, a place I could come to regroup, count my cash, and make sure my supply was good.

  Using the side door that led out to my two-car garage, I reached behind the secret compartment that separated the two garages, revealing neatly stacked bills and brown packages of the finest coke to ever touch down in the city. Dropping the duffle bag that I got from South on the ground, I unzipped it, revealing more stacked bills. Strategically placing the money against the walls amongst the other bills, I filled the duffle bag with coke then locked my stash back up. Before walking out of the garage, I made sure my secret wall wasn’t noticeable. After activating my alarm system, I tossed the duffle bag over my shoulders before leaving my house the same way I came.

  “After I drop this shit off, I’m taking the rest of the day off,” I spoke to South.

  “Damn, nigga, already? You just stepped out.”

  “That’s the perks of being the boss.” I smirked.

  “I hear you, boss man.” South nodded as he pulled off, heading in the direction of the block. “I ain’t going to lie, a nigga hungry as fuck,” South said out the blue.

  “Nah, nigga, handle your hunger after you drop me off at home. You should’ve ate while you was waiting for me.” I waved him off.

  We had too much fucking dope in the car to be making unnecessary stops.

  “Damn, nigga, I can’t go through the drive-thru for a cheeseburger and some fries?”

  “Nah, nigga, unless you about to get out of the car and walk.”

  “Damn, man… yeah, let me hurry up and drop your ass off.” South quickly turned the corner, only to be stopped by a red light.

  Pulling out my phone, I smiled down at the picture that Hennessy sent me of her trying on different lingerie. Clicking on the bar to reply I started texting some freaky shit until I was distracted by screeching tires.

  “Talk yo’ shit now, fuck nigga!!” was the last thing I heard before the car was riddled with bullets.

  Reaching for my gun, I blasted back until the final bullet left the chamber. While trying to get away from the gunfire, South ended up spinning off the road and hitting a tree before sending us headfirst into a ditch.

  “Ahhh shit.” I groaned, unable to feel my legs. “Yo, South, you good?” I grimaced in pain.

  “Miami.” South coughed out. The despair in his voice alerted me that he was in bad shape.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I used all my strength to push my seat back, giving me enough space to move around. The burning sensation that coursed through my body crippled me with pain. Grinding my teeth, I bit down hard on my bottom lip just to keep from crying out like a little bitch. Seeing South’s body slumped over the steering wheel while he coughed up blood left me in a state of shock.

  “Stop playing, nigga. Get the fuck up!” I yelled at South. When he didn’t speak or budge, I knew it was over for my nigga.

  Resting my head against the seat rest, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears for my dawg. Even though I was a standoffish nigga who didn’t fuck with people, South was my right hand. Nigga may have made some fucked up decisions, but he was the only one I trusted enough to get it out the mud with. He held it down when Hennessy and I were struggling to keep the lights on. We missed meals together… hustled together… came up together. To see my nigga slumped over, covered in blood from the bullets holes that decorated his body fucked me up in the head.

  The sound of sirens closing in on us shifted my attention to the duffle bag filled with coke that sat in the back seat. Getting caught in this car with a bag of dope, two guns, and a dead body was motive for them pussy ass pigs to bury my ass underneath the jail cell. Using my shoulder, I tried my hardest to push the passenger door open, failing miserably with each attempt. The more I struggled with the door, the weaker I felt myself getting.

  As if I was an older woman going through menopause, I felt my body going through a series of hot flashes. Within a matter of seconds, I started feeling dizzy. My eyes started to get weak, while my body fell limp against the driver’s seat. The flashing red and blue lights from the police cars followed by the blaring sirens of the ambulance was the last thing I remembered before everything went black.

  B eep! Beep! Beep!

  Counting the seconds between the machines’ beeps, I sat in the chair ne
xt to Miami’s hospital bed, barely able to see through my swollen, red eyes. My nerves were at an all-time high after talking to the doctor about Miami’s condition. Although Miami’s surgery was successful, he wasn’t in the clear yet. In fact, the next two days would be the crucial deciding factor in whether he survived or not. With a face covered in tears and a heart filled with hope, every second, I found myself immersed in prayer. I cried out so much that I irritated my voice box, causing hoarseness.

  Despite Miami lying in ICU, fighting for his life, the pigs in blue disrespectfully kept Miami’s wrist chained to the hospital bed as if he was some animal. The two cops who guarded the door wasted no time bombarding the doctors and nurses with questions about his recovery. They didn’t give a fuck about his wellbeing, though, they were just ready to haul him off to jail. To them, Miami was nothing but a menace to society who needed to be detained.

  Memories of our last moment together plagued my mind. Everything about sex with Miami felt different. From his touches, kisses, strokes, and even his words were softer than usual. With each orgasm I experienced that morning, I felt myself getting emotional. The overwhelming feeling of us being intimate for the final time nagged me until I couldn’t help but beg Miami to stay at home. My gut called it. I knew the moment he walked out of those doors, some shit was going to go down.

  Instead of using the money to go shopping like Miami insisted, I got dressed, still covered in the funk of our lovemaking, and sat in the car crying. The unsettled feeling in my spirit wouldn’t allow me to be great. With my phone clutched in the center of my hand, I counted the seconds that eventually turned into minutes… then hours as I waited for the phone call that would either be made from the jailhouse or by a nurse in the hospital.

  Getting the call that Miami was fighting for his life on the operating table winded me. I could have dealt with him going to jail. Being the wifey of a dope boy, Miami had coached me on what to do if he was to ever get locked up. I knew where the stash was kept that would need to be delivered to his lawyer for his defense, I knew how to shut down shop or run shit if I needed to. What I wasn’t prepared for was the fucked up feeling that washed over me as I helplessly sat next to my man while he fought for his life.

  Interrupted by the loud ringing of my phone, I gazed down at the name plastered on my screen before powering it off. For the last couple of hours, Nookie had been blowing me up, trying to see if I was good. I appreciated her being a good friend to me, but at this moment, I needed to be alone with Miami, giving him my undivided attention.

  My heart went out to Deja. Although she and South weren’t your ideal couple goals, she still loved the fuck out of that nigga, and vice versa. To learn that he was DOA was fucked up. It was unfortunate that South last his life so soon… so young… I could only pray that Miami wouldn’t suffer the same fate.

  “You promised you was coming home to me!” I rested my head against Miami’s waist as I sobbed. “You gave me your word! You told me to give you two hours, and you was coming back!” My eyes burned from the tears, but I couldn’t help it.

  At that moment, I felt numb. It felt as if someone was sitting on my chest, blocking my airway. Nobody ever gave a fuck about me. My own mammy, whose pussy I came out of didn’t fuck with me the way a mother was supposed to rock behind her child, her only child at that. My entire life, I felt as if I was just existing, going through the motions. After subjecting myself to abuse just so I could have a warm meal to eat at night, I had no purpose… no value… I wasn’t shit until Miami swooped into my life and showed me differently.

  The way Miami loved me motivated me to love myself. I was a better me because of him. He was my world, my life, my everything. God forbid I lost my soulmate. There was no telling what I would do. I was on some Romeo and Juliet type shit. If Miami died, I would die behind him.

  “If you die on me, I’m chugging down pills until I overdose and die. You hear me, Miami? If you die, I’m dying with you! Ain’t no purpose in living if you ain’t here to live with me,” I blubbered.

  I didn’t give a fuck that I looked like a snotty nose toddler with tears and snot running down my face. I was hurt.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry to intrude, but visiting hours are over,” the nurse softly spoke.

  “Can I just stay here with him tonight, please?” I begged.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t. I already bent the rules by giving you an extra thirty minutes to sit here with him. I understand how you’re feeling. Last year, I was sitting in that same chair while my husband lay in that exact bed, recovering from a terrible car accident. Trust me, I know how you’re feeling right now. The best thing for you to do is go home, take a nice bath, try to put some food on your stomach, then get some rest.”

  “Your husband? Did he make it out of here alive?” I asked, looking up at her.

  “Yup, and now we’re expecting our first baby.” She smiled. “All things are possible through Christ. I’ll sit and pray with him before I complete my shift.”

  “Thank you.” I offered the nurse a weak smile before standing to my feet and pressing my lips against Miami’s. Although his lips were cold and chapped, that didn’t stop me from running my tongue over his mouth.

  “Keep your word, daddy, or I’ll make good on mine,” I whispered in his ear before walking away.

  “What the fuck do you mean I can’t go in there and see him? I ain’t been able to see him for a fucking week! Somebody tell me something before I flip all this shit over,” I belligerently yelled.

  For the past week, I had been coming to the hospital faithfully, just to be told that Miami was fine but wasn’t allowed to have any visitors. I was sick of the bullshit. Today, they would let me see my man, or I was going to raise hell in this bitch.

  “Ma’am, please calm down, or we will be forced to get the police involved,” a redhead, long face looking bitch said.

  “Get the law involved, hoe. I don’t give a fuck what you do, as long as you give me access to see my nigga!” I went off.

  I spent the entire week sick with worry from not being able to lay on Miami to confirm with my eyes that he was okay. For seven days straight, I could barely eat, shower, or comb my fucking hair. I was at my wit’s end. Today, something would have to give because I wasn’t taking the bullshit. I wasn’t waiting for a phone call from the doctor with updates. I had already made up in my mind that I was going to either see Miami or raise hell in this bitch trying to.

  “We are under strict orders to not allow anyone in that room. However, the doctor will be down shortly to speak with you,” Redhead said.

  “For the past week, y’all motherfuckers been pushing me around with the same bullshit. Let me find out y’all killed my man to sell his organs, and Imma fuck up every single one of you bitches! Like I said, I am not leaving here until I see Miami!” These nurses had me fucked up if they thought game didn’t peep game.

  The only reason I wasn’t allowed to see Miami was because some shit they needed time to cover up went down.

  “I understand your frustration right now, but if you don’t calm down, we won’t be able to properly inform you on what’s going on,” the nurse spoke.

  “You’ve been standing in my fucking face for the last ten minutes, saying the same shit. I don’t want to hear shit you have to say. I need to see Miami with my own eyes,” I shouted, gaining the attention of a few onlookers. “What the fuck y’all looking at!” I spat at them before turning my attention back to the nurse.

  “I’m sorry, but I am unable to take you back there.” The nurse shrugged. The look of disgust etched on her face didn’t faze me. I could see the racist thoughts circling around in her head about me.

  “Then I’m just going to have to whoop your ass.” Grabbing a rubber band from the nurses’ station, I pulled my matted up hair into a bun at the top of my head.

  “Is there a problem here?” a police officer asked, making his way over to us.

  “I’ve been trying to inform her that we are unde
r strict orders to not allow any visitors in her boyfriend’s room. Instead, the doctor will come down to update her on any changes. Her failure to cooperate has created a disturbance for everyone in the hospital.” She tooted her lips while frowning down at me.

  “Bitch, I will whoop your ass for looking at me like that.” Lunging for the nurse’s throat, I was caught in midair by the cop.

  “Stop resisting.” The cop wrestled with me as I tried to twist and turn out of the tight hold he had me in.

  Everyone in the hospital stood with their cell phone out, recording the altercation. A few ‘oh shits’ and ‘damns’ could be heard when the cop slammed me down to the ground and placed his knee in my back.

  “That’s a female!” a male voice yelled out from the crowd.

  “Oweeeee! You’re hurting me.” Tears spilled from my eyes.

  “Relax and stop resisting,” the cop yelled in my ear.

  “Please, baby, do as he says,” An onlooker spoke out with desperation in her voice.

  The majority of the people in the waiting room of the hospital were black. The cop was white. With the history of the cops gunning down innocent black people, using ‘resisting’ as their excuse, I allowed my body to go limp while the cop swung me around like a rag doll. Gripping me by the cuffs that were cutting into my flesh, the stupid ass police officer tossed me in the back of the squad, not giving me time to fully sit up before he slammed the door closed.

  After going through the humiliating process of being booked, I was tossed in a cold holding cell with a bunch of prostitutes, crack heads, drunks, and angry motherfuckers. Sitting at the end of the hard bench, I kept my distance from everyone else. Rubbing the cuts that were on my wrists, my thoughts drifted back to Miami. Feeling defeated, I dropped my head in my hand and silently cried.

  “Is that Hennessy?” a voice called out, forcing me to quickly wipe my tears and look up.

  Staring into the eyes of Akio’s strung out ass, I grew sick to my stomach for inhaling the foul stench that penetrated her dry, cracked skin.