The Dirty Red Series

by Vickie M. Stringer

  Game was sold, not told, and she would make sure that she got paid for every single word that he wrote.

  Fair exchange ain’t robbery, is it?

  CHAPTER 12

  By Any Means Necessary

  As Red drove home, she couldn’t believe that she had just had sex with Bacon. Her intention was just to go see him and hold him off until her schemes were fully executed. Instead, that nigga pumped her hard and left her with his cum on the inside and outside of her. She couldn’t wait to get home and wash him off of her.

  Ring . . . ring . . .

  Red heard her cell phone ringing inside her purse. She turned down the radio and waited for the call to come through her wireless earpiece.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey, girl. Dis’ Sasha.”

  “What’s up?” Red replied.

  “I was just checking on you and wanted to see how it was going with Bacon,” Sasha quizzed.

  Red didn’t feel comfortable with Sasha’s nosiness, especially since she had just left the visit.

  “What?” Red asked.

  “Bacon. What’s up with him? You said you were going to visit him today.”

  “When did I say that?”

  “Girl, so when you gon’ go see the nigga?” Sasha asked as noise sounded in the background.

  “I hadn’t planned on it,” Red said. “What’s that sound?”

  “I don’t hear anything,” Sasha said. “I heard he supposed to be coming home. That somebody had some new information about the case.”

  The phone developed static as Red drove past Detroit Metropolitan International Airport. Suddenly the call dropped.

  Red was relieved. She took the exit near her home.

  Red pulled up into her driveway, watched her garage door rise and admired her lovely home. It was a shame that she would be leaving it soon. In only six more months her plan would be in place. Her stash was at almost a million dollars—her goal was a million and a half—and then she would raise the hell up out of Detroit to start a new life somewhere, someplace, somehow. She had burned bridges before and she knew that the shit was going to hit the fan.

  When she pulled into the garage, she noticed Catfish’s black Infiniti already inside. She entered the house through the side door, walked through the hallway and into the kitchen. Placing her keys on the counter, she heard Kera and Sasha in what sounded like a small disagreement. Red decided not to even head that way. She didn’t have time to play referee for them. She crept out of the kitchen and headed upstairs, digging her feet into the Berber carpet.

  Sasha looked up suddenly and caught sight of her. “Hey, girl, we need you to come down here, ’cause Kera thinks she runs this place,” Sasha yelled.

  “What up, hos? Not now, I need a shower. Give me a moment and I’ll be down.” Red went to her room and closed the door.

  “Bitch been out fucking, no doubt.” Kera smirked. “You come home and run straight to the shower.”

  Red ignored them bitches completely. Her mind was on the sex she had just had. She ran the hot shower and watched as steam covered the glass. Nothing was hot enough to scrub the filth from her body. She stepped into the rush of water. Red lathered between her private parts and scrubbed until her flesh was raw, then she pulled a pack of Massengill Vinegar & Water douche from the medicine chest and cleaned her insides.

  Strange as it was, Bacon was the closest she had ever come to a boyfriend. It was Red’s power and confidence that he loved yet also resented.

  She learned the best way to be with Bacon was to be an empty shell, not representing herself, but representing the image Bacon fell in love with. Sex was the only area they seemed to agree on in the beginning. He thought he was a champion and she played him like he was.

  Red’s first encounter with sex was with a man who told her that he loved her, so every time a man was inside her, she felt wanted, needed and desired. This temporary high was like a drug for her. She craved it. With her legs in the air and Bacon’s dick sliding in and out of her, she felt wanted. That alone was sometimes enough for all the drama that she endured. Red never had a father to touch the side of her face and say those assuring words: I love you. Instead, her first memory of hearing them was a perversion; therefore, she did what human nature calls for us to do. She went back to what is familiar. For Red, familiarity was pain.

  As close as she seemed to be to Bacon, he never really knew who Red was. Bacon would call her his wifey, but he didn’t have a clue as to what kept her in tears at night. Aside from her confession to Gloria Schottenstein over dinner, Red never told anyone how she was molested as a child. But, no matter how hard she tried, she could never forget a man’s hands in her panties or the taking of her innocence.

  Red came out of the bathroom and sat at her laptop to go on the Internet to look at the website for Triple Crown Publications. She printed the submission guidelines. They seemed simple enough: submit the first four chapters, a synopsis and a cover letter.

  As soon as Bacon mailed her the manuscript, Red would get it typed, then send it in. If his gift of gab was an indication of what he could write, that nigga for sure had a bestseller on his hands.

  • • •

  Red tied her Prada bathrobe snugly around her waist and reached for her Nextel phone. It was beeping that she had a message, so she pushed the envelope button to listen. First all she heard was silence, then some static. Then, faintly, she heard Sasha’s voice talking to a man. Red pressed one ear closed and listened carefully.

  “Why did you ask her like that?” the male voice demanded.

  “You the one got me living in the girl’s house and being a spy. I don’t like this shit. Not at all,” Sasha replied.

  “Try to call her back.”

  “I don’t think you got enough time and I don’t want the phone to cut off in the middle of our talk.”

  “Look, the reason why you living with Red is to get information. I hope you ain’t over there chasing niggas.”

  “No, Catfish. I’m doing what you asked me to. Don’t worry. I’ll find something on her. And when I do, I will let you know.”

  A wicked smile spread across Red’s otherwise angelic-looking face. She had overheard an earful. Apparently, Sasha called her on a three-way, while Catfish listened. When the call dropped, they thought they were disconnected, but in fact they weren’t. Fortunately for Red, her cell phone had recorded the entire thing. Red was livid. Her reason for having Sasha and Kera live with her was simply for extra money. She knew she would be rid of the house soon and didn’t really care what happened. But for Sasha to be there with her own twisted agenda made her furious for a split second before she remembered her motto: Get them before they get you. It’s a dog-eat-dog world. And only the strong will survive.

  Red clambered downstairs to the great room, where Sasha and Kera were sitting opposite each other, still bickering. Both girls got up and followed Red as she walked into the kitchen.

  “Red, tell this ho that the room she took was the one I wanted,” Sasha complained.

  “No, tell this bitch first come, first serve,” Kera suggested.

  Red poured herself a glass of cranberry juice and gazed from one girl to the other like they were from Mars.

  “Look, it don’t make no damn sense to be arguing about these rooms. Neither of you hos is special or in the Bible. Every room in the house is a good one, Sasha. You decided to move in three days after Kera did, so, you know the rules; you snooze, you lose.”

  “But I told you I wanted the room with the full bathroom inside. Now, I have to go down the hallway to take a bath or shower and I still pay the same amount that she does. I mean, if I don’t have the same amenities, what the fuck am I paying the same amount for?” Sasha asked.

  “You are not the president. You knew the deal when you took it off the table. Don’t start no shit with this. What else is good?”

  Kera piped up. “Well, I had my ultrasound today and guess what I’m having?”

  “Let me guess
. A boy!” Red said unenthusiastically.

  “Yep!” Kera proudly rubbed her tummy.

  “Will you name him after his father?” Sasha asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I think I will. I ain’t gon’ let Mekel and his shit stop my flow.”

  “Momma’s baby, Daddy’s maybe,” Sasha taunted.

  “I think both y’all jealous ’cause y’all ain’t got no kids.”

  “Sorry, honey. I don’t need, nor do I want, any kids,” Red replied.

  Sasha was silent. Red knew Sasha had already had several abortions and Kera was right, she did want a child. Kera might not have been the brightest lightbulb in the box but they couldn’t deny her bravery. She was pregnant by another woman’s man and still found the strength to smile. There was no fear in her eyes; she was ready to have this child alone.

  “Kera, tell me something I’ve been wanting to know. How in the world did you get pregnant by Mekel?” Sasha asked.

  Sasha’s question put Kera in a fucked-up mood. For one, Red had to have told Sasha who the father was, and two, they knew a baby came by way of fucking. So, three, Sasha was trying to purposely start some shit.

  “Yeah, tell us. How did this happen?” Red added, being nosy as well. Kera now felt that both girls were ganging up on her, but she wanted to finally tell her side of the story. Kera plopped up on a bar stool, took a deep breath and told them how it really went down.

  “I went to Vegas that one weekend and was in the Bellagio casino. Just cruising the floor, nothing big. I heard all of this commotion at the craps table and so I walked over there. I noticed Mekel’s fine ass and he had a huge stack of chips. It looked like he was killing ’em. That made me start rooting for him, screaming, ‘Go, Mekel.’

  “He noticed me, a familiar face, and smiled back at me. This made me go over to where he was standing. He asked me to blow on his dice, and I did. When I leaned in to blow, he kissed my cheek. He asked me to give him a real kiss for good luck. Later, we went to dinner at the Prime Steakhouse, upstairs on the VIP floor.

  “During dinner, we talked about Terry and how their relationship was going. He said they were no longer together and one thing led to another. He slid his hand to my leg and since I had always been attracted to him, it was all good. He said, ‘I have always thought you were fine and often wondered what my life would be like had I met you first.’ He also told me, ‘Terry can’t have no kids, she got her tubes tied.’ So, next thing I know, we were upstairs in his suite, listening to music and looking out at the fountain light show. I ran a bath in the Jacuzzi, he lit the fireplace and it was the most romantic evening I’ve ever spent with anyone. It seemed like right then and there, that we fell someplace. I can’t call it love.”

  “I bet you can’t,” Red said, huffing.

  “But I can call it special, and we been homey/lover/friends ever since.”

  “Do you think you got pregnant that night?”

  “I don’t know what night it was, ’cause we spent every night together afterward. We got back to Detroit three days later and I saw him one last time. It seems that when he had gone home, Terry was there waiting for him and they made up. I never called Mekel or tried to steal his ass.” Kera said the next words sternly as she looked at Red, making it crystal clear. “It was a one-night stand that turned into a few-night stands, and we just so happened to have made a friendly connection as a result.”

  “Were you salty that he went back to Terry? I mean, how could you fuck your homegirl’s man?”

  “Like he said, they weren’t together, and like we know, I saw all them black hundred-dollar chips stacked in front of him and well, it was just for the moment. I thought that whatever went on in Vegas would, you know, stay there. But it seems that he brought back feelings and I brought back a child.”

  “Damn,” Sasha said as she sipped her glass of wine.

  “So what made you want to keep the fucker?” Red asked.

  “The fucker?” Kera questioned.

  “Yeah, the baby. I mean shit, why go into this a single momma and everything?”

  “My baby ain’t no fucker, Red.”

  “Girl, that was wrong,” Sasha scolded. “How you gon’ call the girl’s baby a fucker? And to her face at that?”

  “Girl, please. I don’t give a fuck. The point is, she shouldn’t have fucked Terry’s man. I understand what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but they brought this shit all the way back to Detroit with a little something extra that will make its debut in three months. You don’t have babies by everyone who runs they dick up in you, especially your girl’s man! It’s causing everyone grief. I mean, Terry is a lot of things, but does she deserve to see her girl walk around with her man’s baby in her stomach? Damn, can we talk about something else now?”

  Sasha and Red continued talking and didn’t give Kera a second thought as the pregnant girl huffed out of the room. “She’s probably going to sleep. Seems that is all that she does,” Sasha suggested.

  “So, when was the last time you talked to Catfish?” Red asked, trying to see if Sasha would catch herself in a lie.

  “Girl, I am so glad to be living here with you. No more collect calls. I’m gon’ write him tonight, though. That hold-me-down-baby shit gets stale.”

  “Did you love him, or his money?”

  “You know, Red, believe it or not, I fell in love with him. There is no way I could have gone this long without loving him. He’s a good dude who just got a long amount of time. When I was with Catfish, I was with him and I was happy. Can you say the same about Bacon?”

  “Hell, no. That muthafucka was a holy terror,” Red said, exaggerating.

  “Holy terror?”

  “Holy terror!”

  “Girl, you ain’t an angel yourself. You can be a hell-raiser.”

  “Yep, that’s what these niggas like, a gangsta bitch.”

  “Looks like you learned well from me,” Sasha said as she looked around the house and nodded her approval. “You sure in the hell made out better than I did, and with a lot less grief.”

  “Well, it seems like my grief is beginning with all these fucking bills.”

  “Girl, don’t it go fast?”

  “Too fast! Shit! It went like whoa!”

  “So, the real estate business is paying you?”

  “Yeah, it’s doing me justice. But shit, who likes working?”

  “When is the last time you seen Bacon?”

  “Why? Are you investigating me?” Red asked jokingly.

  “I’m not, but you were acting funny on the phone.”

  “’Cause I don’t talk on the phone. But, I went to see him today.”

  “Mmm? How did it go?”

  “Fine. When’s the next time you going to see Catfish?” Red quizzed.

  “That two-hour hike to Jackson State Penn is no joke. At least Bacon’s in a federal joint. Catfish in a stankin’-ass, dirty state joint. It gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

  • • •

  Kera heard them talking below and her mind told her that they were laughing at and mocking her. A pregnant woman’s emotions run a mile a minute. She strained to hear what they were saying, but it was no use. She wanted to run back down there and curse them out. Instead, she thought of revenge. If only she could find that letter and send it to Bacon.

  While the girls chattered, Kera crept around Red’s bedroom. She walked over to the laptop and moved her finger across the mouse pad. She looked at the pile of papers but there was no sign of the notepad on which Red had written the letter. Kera scanned from left to right. Where would Red keep the pad?

  Kera tiptoed over to the huge closet and slid the door aside. In the center was a small vanity and some storage containers. On the floor there was a hatbox with the lid partially off. Kera opened the box and there was the notepad amidst pens and colored stationery. Kera flipped a couple of pages, and found the letter.

  Dear Bacon,

  Kera’s hands began to sweat as she read the hurtful words.


  Your dick is so little that I can’t believe you even wear a size 12 shoe . . .

  Kera almost laughed when she read that and wondered if Bacon really had a small dick. She kept reading.

  You hear my voice when you call your phone? After today, you’ll hear “I got a block” on all my phones. Don’t try that three-way shit either, ’cause I got Call Intercept. Fucker, just turn homo and die.

  Red was as hateful as they came, the devil’s liveliest advocate when she wanted to be.

  You a has-been and I ain’t got time for no shoulda, woulda, coulda stories. You should have stayed free. Dumb ass . . . Certainly, nobody told you to fall in love with me . . .

  Wake up! You played yourself. Charge it to da game.

  Red

  Kera had suspected Red was lying about who she did the pee trick on; Kera figured that it was Bacon. Now, Red would reap what she had sowed.

  Kera ripped the pages from the notepad. Her heart began to beat faster when she heard footsteps prancing down the hall. She closed herself inside the closet and held her breath. Red walked into her room and across to her computer table, then left the room again. Kera let out a loud sigh. That was too close for comfort. She had nowhere else to go, so she knew she had to lie in the cut until her child came and she could leave the house of hell.

  • • •

  Red felt an odd vibe in the air as she walked into her room. It was one thing for the bitches to be in her crib, but another for them to invade her personal space. Her room was off-limits. Red looked around, checking to see what was in place and what was not. She could have sworn that she smelled the knockoff Lolita Lempicka perfume that Kera wore.

  Still, Red didn’t notice anything wrong. She grabbed the papers she was looking for from her computer table and headed back downstairs.

  When she returned to the kitchen Red handed Sasha the real estate papers that granted Red permission to represent her. Also included was a power of attorney, whereby Sasha consented to allow Red to sign legal papers and to handle decisions on Sasha’s behalf.

  “Why the power of attorney?” Sasha asked suspiciously as she looked over the papers.