“Where is your help?” Red asked in disgust as she stood in the entryway and watched Kera struggle.
“Well, my so-called baby daddy said he would help, but you know niggas. No good, sorry muthafuckas.”
“He probably somewhere laid up with Terry’s ass.”
“You think?” Kera responded.
“You think not?”
“Look, Red, I’m too far along for an abortion. I’m too big to kick his ass or hers. I’ve decided to move the fuck on with my life with my child and do the best I can. This is my new start. If he helps, fine. If he don’t, oh fucking well, it’s his loss.”
How in the hell is not having the responsibility of a child anyone’s loss? Red thought. “Yeah, girl, you right. Just keep doing what you do.” Red turned to leave. She wasn’t about to help Kera move her raggedy shit. Damn, couldn’t she at least find some luggage? The Asians sell Louis Vuitton joints all day, everyday, up and down Gratiot Avenue, she thought. There had to be a better way.
After the last garbage bag was hauled upstairs, Toothless left the premises. Red stood in the doorway and stared at her damaged plants. Julio, her gardener, had just manicured the landscape and Kera was fucking it up already.
Kera walked up behind her. “I’m so sorry. As soon as this load drops, I promise to replant every little flower.”
“Forget it. You got your money?” Red inquired.
“Can a bitch put her feet the fuck up?” Kera flopped back onto the sofa to rest.
“Well?” Red sounded dead serious.
“Here. Damn!” Kera snapped. She pulled $2,000 out of her pocket. “Is this how it’s going to be, come the first of the month?”
“Maybe.” Red smiled and counted the twenty $100 bills.
“Where’s Sasha?” Kera asked.
“She coming later tonight,” Red explained.
“Glad I got here first, so I can get the room I wanted.”
“So when’s the baby coming?” Red asked, more out of concern for her plan rather than for her hopes to see the bundle of joy.
“Three more months and it’s out, Auntie Red.” Kera rubbed her stomach and gave a smug smile.
“You’ll be a mommy.” Red hugged Kera impulsively.
“Yep. I’ll be a mom,” Kera said proudly.
CHAPTER 9
What You Won’t Do for Love
Terry pulled into the apartment complex and smiled at the sight of Mekel’s truck. Although what they had wasn’t new, she still had that new relationship excitement merely at the sight of him with his curly, jet-black short Afro. He had dimples in both cheeks and his skin was so light, he almost looked Middle Eastern. Her nerves continued to get the best of her because she really didn’t know much about him, other than what she’d heard. She knew he had an ex-wife, although she wasn’t sure why she was an ex. Sure, he’d come back to her after fucking Kera for months. Sure, he said he loved her, and, of course, he said the baby wasn’t his. Despite all of this, she still wanted to be with him. It was more than how he laid the pipe. It was mostly the bank that he grossed from being a top dope man on the street.
Terry fought daily to shake the rumors of who he was hittin’. It didn’t matter, Mekel always came back and she always took him back.
Turning the key in the lock, she heard the familiar sounds of Usher’s “That’s What It’s Made For” through the door and her nose detected something delicious on the stove. It would be their night for romance. One more night away from home and from her kids would not matter.
Terry left her kids with her mother on many occasions. It had gotten preposterous, but chasing Mekel and carting kids around was not an easy task. Terry was in between jobs, hustles and keeping one eye on Kera. It was typical of women to want Mekel so Terry kept her other eye on him, which she couldn’t do with kids constantly around.
Mekel was born and raised on the East Side of Detroit. He was the nephew of the notorious Larry Chambers of the Chambers Brothers who got busted for running one of the largest crack rings Detroit had ever known, but that didn’t deter Mekel from the streets. He then formed his own gang called the Best Friends. They had been a group of youngsters that grew up together before Mekel made a name for himself. The Best Friends never really reached the height in the dope game that they wanted, so they began to put the murder, duct tape and rape game into play.
Mekel ate however and wherever he could. He would have preferred not to eat off his looks, but being as fine as he was, he was much better at coming up off women than he was hustling in the streets.
“Mmm . . .” Mekel hummed as he stood, butt-booty naked, in front of the stove. Cooking in the nude was his pastime. Mekel shimmied the pan back and forth, tossing the scallops an inch above the pan.
Terry walked up behind him. “Something smells good, Daddy.”
She began slowly, placing light kisses and nibbles up and down his back. Once she made her way down to his backside, she rubbed her hands together and spread his buttocks to insert her tongue close to his anus, teasing him ever so gently.
Mekel turned, placing his erect penis inches from her nose. He turned off the stove with his left hand and leaned back for her to handle her business. As Terry licked up and down on the head of his dick, Mekel grabbed the back of her head and began pumping back and forth to a rhythm, literally fucking her in the mouth.
Lapping and licking, Terry deep-throated Mekel like a champ. Terry’s mouth was so wide, her lips so full, she could fit a whole tangerine into her mouth. But it was her tongue that he loved the most.
“I’m about to come, ma.”
Terry didn’t move an inch. Instead she opened up her mouth and welcomed his deposit. “Umm, umm good,” she said, swallowing. “Yeah, baby.”
When they left the kitchen, they headed for the bedroom shower. Afterward Terry had Mekel lie down on the bed for a massage. She rubbed his shoulders and upper back until his muscles relaxed.
“Mekel, can I ask you something?” Terry whispered.
“What’s up?” Mekel held his breath.
“Kera. Tell me what happened.” Terry had never really known the details. She expected Red to tell her, but Red wouldn’t talk about it. Terry didn’t want to rock the boat, so she mostly ignored the issue. But with Kera’s due date approaching and the rumors running rampant, she had to get closure. So she asked the other person who had been there: Mekel.
“Tell me about Kera, Mekel. Don’t you think it’s time that you told me what happened? I mean, is the baby yours or what?”
“Look, why you asking me this shit?”
Terry rubbed his back, moving her hand over a pimple. She popped it with the pads of her thumb and forefinger, inflicting pain. She continued to sit on Mekel so that he could not easily move.
“I deserve to know, nigga! I’m right here, right now. I’m still here and I want to know what happened.”
“You need to drop dat shit.” Mekel moved from under her and rolled over. Turning his back to her, he closed his eyes and faked sleep.
“Look, M. I love you, and you know this. You fuckin’ someone close to me hit too close to home.”
“Close? Fuck dat ho!”
“Obviously that’s what you did.” Terry was getting angry, yet she wanted to keep her composure in order to keep him talking.
Mekel turned to her and gave her a silent stare. Terry used to be drama-free, but it seems that shit just don’t last in a relationship.
“I didn’t mean that, M,” Terry begged. “This shit is so crazy. Tell me what happened.” She sat with her back against the headboard and exhaled a deep sigh, as if this was the end of her rope. Truth be told, Mekel did care a great deal for Terry. It was just that, well—he felt like taking the easy way out.
“Baby, charge it to the game, not my heart.”
“The game?” Terry asked in disbelief. “What part of the game is it that you fuck my homegirl?”
“Look, Terry. We weren’t even together when that happened.”
“What? I don’t wanna hear dat shit.”
“It was during one of your dramatic-ass good-byes.”
“And that gave you the right to fuck my friend?”
“No, it wasn’t like that.” Mekel pulled Terry close to him. “Look,” he said, stroking the sides of her face, “you don’t want to know the truth, ’cause you can’t handle the truth.” He tried to joke but it fell flat. Terry remained silent as she listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat. She loved this man more than life itself.
“Tell me. If you loved me the way you say you do, you would tell me,” Terry whispered.
He knew damn well that she didn’t want to know the truth. She saw the truth in Kera’s bulging belly. She heard the truth on the streets through rumors. She caught the truth the time she saw Kera slipping from his crib. Yet, Terry claimed to want to hear the truth, as if it would make any difference. Fuck it, Mekel thought.
He took a deep breath.
“After I explain this shit to you, I don’t want to hear no more about it. Cool?”
Terry nodded as if to agree. Her emotions were making her physically and mentally sick. If she didn’t get the truth that night she was either going to kill Mekel and Kera or flip the fuck out on some padded room and straightjacket type shit. Terry swore that if Mekel ever lied to her, she was going to pull a Lorena Bobbitt and cut his dick off.
“It was right before Christmas. You had left and we argued about where I was. I was in Vegas at the Bellagio casino playing craps. I looked up to throw the dice and there was ole girl at the end of the box screaming my name, ‘Mekel! Mekel! Slang it, baby!’ She was in Vegas for an uncle’s funeral, and her fam came to check out the Casino.
“I already had a ton of shit to drink since I was with my boys from Philly. Kera kept yelling, and let’s face it, you know she ain’t bad on the eyes when she brings it out at night. Titties hanging all out and shit. So, one thing led to another and she came over.
“She told me she wanted to blow on my dice, so, I let her. When she did that and licked my thumb, that was the beginning of the end. We headed back to my suite and ordered up some food. We talked a bit, and shit, Terry. I thought I was gon’ fuck her and that would be the end of it.” He paused to check out Terry’s expression, but mostly because he didn’t want to tell her that the sex was the bomb and he was like the cat; satisfaction kept bringing him back.
“And, so what? You disregard my feelings over what, Mekel?” Terry got smack dead in his face and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Some pussy?!”
Just as he suspected, Terry didn’t want the truth. She wanted some lie about how he got tricked or some shit. The fact was, Kera was fine and Mekel’s dick wanted her. It wasn’t fair to say she forced herself on him, but from Terry’s body language, Mekel knew that in order to save this dance, he had to turn the tables.
“Terry, Kera knew we were together. I even reminded her that you was my girl and shit but she didn’t care. I thought that was fucked up because she was your girl and all, so I tried to put her out of the suite but I was so fucked up after that crap game, I damn near passed out. I think I did because the next thing I know, when I woke up, she had my dick in her mouth. Wasn’t no turning back after that, you know.”
“So . . .” Terry paused as she stared at him dead in the eyes. “You tellin’ me all she did was suck your dick, right?”
“Yeah, baby, that’s it.” Mekel felt like he won. He was hoping she ignored his last statement of “no turning back.”
“How she get pregnant if all she was doing was sucking your dick?” Terry needed to hear Mekel say he fucked Kera.
Mekel couldn’t even think fast enough.
“Hello?!” Terry stared at him waiting for an answer. The silence was deafening.
Mekel had a stupid expression on his face because he’d had no idea that she was going to turn the shit back around on him.
“Unless things have changed and I ain’t know about it, sucking a dick never got anyone pregnant.”
“Baby, I—”
“I, I hell,” she interrupted, tired of his bullshit. “How did your dick get into her pussy? How did your sperm get into her uterus?” Terry felt her blood boiling more and more by the minute.
Mekel moved away cautiously. Terry’s nostrils began to flare. He’d gone against the playa’s creed—never tell the truth, never confess and if that ain’t work, always say it wasn’t you, even if she saw you. Unfortunately for Mekel, it was too late.
“Why did you fuck her bareback? Why, Mekel? There weren’t no condoms in all of Las Vegas? You don’t know what she has and now you fucking me raw, too?” Terry’s face was slick with tears now as she pointed to herself and then back to Mekel’s forehead.
“Umm . . . she got pregnant ’cause, hell, I don’t know! I didn’t fuck her. All I did was let her suck my dick, I swear to God. I promise on my life and on everything that God loves, it’s the truth.”
Instantly, a calmness came over Terry. She put a hand to her moist eyes, then reached underneath the pillow and pulled out a butcher knife.
Mekel thought, Oh, shit, she crazy! She is gon’ slice a nigga! It was then that he knew that Terry was insane, and he’d have to continue feeding her lies to avoid being killed. When his seed came, he would have to make a choice and take responsibility by remembering how it really went down.
CHAPTER 10
It Was All a Dream
Red, are you sure you want to visit Bacon?” Q asked.
“I have to, Q,” Red replied.
“Why you gotta go see him?” Q asked again.
“Because I need to tell him, face-to-face.”
He stared at her as if to say, You don’t have to. She returned his glare with one that said, Nigga, don’t go there.
She began to put her clothes on and Q came up behind her, nibbling on her neck. “Damn, you taste good,” he whispered in her ear. Being turned on by his touch, and the fact she hadn’t had sex since her fake miscarriage, she readily accepted the affection.
“Q, I’ve missed you,” she said as she turned to kiss him. Holding him close, she felt his erection pressing on her stomach.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Q responded as he began to take off what little clothing she had on. Picking her up and carrying her over to the bed, Q laid her down. Propping herself up on her elbows, Red smiled at him with a devilish grin. As Q undressed, Red took in every inch of his body with her eyes.
“There’s my friend,” Red crooned as Q’s dick sprang forward. Reaching out to him, she put the tip in her mouth.
“No. Not now,” Q said as she was about to work magic on his dick. “It’s been too long.”
Grinning at him, she pulled him down on top of her. Kissing her passionately, Q eased in between her legs and flicked her clit with his dick. “Damn, girl, I ain’t never felt you this wet.”
“Quit talking and fuck me!” Red demanded and grabbed his ass.
In one swift motion, Q entered Red, causing her eyes to roll in the back of her head. They found a steady motion, enjoying and pleasing each other. Lifting Red’s leg up on his shoulder, Q pounded deeper.
“Oh Q, baby, Q . . . Q,” Red repeated.
“Goddamn this feels good!” Q yelled as his balls tightened up. “Ughhhhhhhhh!” he grunted as he shot his load inside of her.
Catching the feeling of her own orgasm, Red pulled him deeper into her while he was still in motion and moved feverishly to get hers. “Yes . . . yes!” she yelled as she came.
Q collapsed on top of Red, panting. “Damn, that was good.”
“Wasn’t it, though?”
Smiling at her, Q withdrew himself from her, realizing that he’d fucked her bareback; his expression didn’t change. He got up and retreated to the bathroom to shower. Red looked down and noticed semen on the insides of her thighs, dripping from his withdrawal. She rushed into the bathroom to join him in the shower.
• • •
The refreshing wind blew across Red’s face as she dr
ove on the open road in her triple white BMW 525i, listening to Aaron Hall. The sweet smells of the fragrant flowers in the open fields engaged her nose and penetrated her mind, causing her entire body to relax. The forty-five-minute drive to Milan seemed more like twenty and she began to regret not coming to see Bacon more often. Really, what was the sacrifice when she could have a spring day like today, alone with her thoughts? The fact was that she was simply tired of faking it. First, she faked orgasms, then she faked concern, now she was supposed to fake caring now that Bacon was locked down?
Pushing seventy, Red kept her eye out for a roller giving out tickets since it was early Saturday morning. Turning off exit 74, she stopped at the light, turned left and drove another three miles down a lonely dirt road. They sure know how to pick prison locations, out in the middle of West Bubblefuck.
Parking her car in the visitors’ lot, Red checked the clock in the dashboard. Visiting hours didn’t start for another ten minutes, but she wanted to be first to avoid the lines, the hassles and all the other bullshit that came along with visiting an inmate. As she stared at the stone building behind the barbwire fence, she remembered how she and Bacon met almost a decade ago.
Red had just turned sixteen and still hadn’t gotten over Blue. She had walked around with a sad face as if the world owed her something. Whoever said you could wear your heart on your sleeve must have seen Red wearing her broken heart on her face. She was whipped but that didn’t discourage Bacon.
Red and Terry had walked into Home Town Buffet to get their grub on and Bacon’s Maserati was parked out front, glistening in the sunlight. Now granted, Home Town was not the classiest joint in Detroit, but it was the hungry man’s spot. They had biscuits that would make you want to slap your momma. Red had noticed the crown emblem on the hood of the car as they walked past, as she had never seen a car like that before.
“Terry, what type of whip is this?” Red asked, pointing to the car.
“Mm-mm-mm,” Terry answered, her voice going up in the middle to indicate she didn’t know.
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