The Dirty Red Series

by Vickie M. Stringer

  “ ’Cause, I don’t know what I will need and I want to be prepared. Besides, the bottom line is getting you out of that loft deal, right?”

  Sasha hesitated before nodding.

  “I pulled the title on the loft. You didn’t tell me that Catfish was on it, as well,” Red said.

  “It doesn’t matter, ’cause I used my credit.”

  “But his name is on there also, so it does matter.”

  “You can forget getting him to agree to this. Just forget the whole thing.”

  “Just let me handle it.” Red pushed the pen over to Sasha.

  Sasha hesitated again as she held the papers. “Are you gonna play fair?” she finally asked.

  “You my sister, girl,” Red replied. Sasha picked up the pen and signed the last of her assets away.

  CHAPTER 13

  Real Men Do Real Things

  A month later, Q continued to be a man of his word, showing Red, at every turn, he would be right there. She began to feel confused with him because Q never, ever required her to ask for anything. He would arrive at her door with groceries. He would slip money into her purse on GP—general principle—every chance he got. He wanted her to be okay. In fact he exhibited all the signs of being in love.

  Yet for Red it still wasn’t good enough. She had to push the envelope, and she often pushed it off the table. When Q was around she would pick fights for no particular reason. Red began to analyze her drama, and began to suspect that she cared about Q more than she wanted to admit. It was one thing to cause drama that created the method to her madness, but the things she did to Q didn’t include any ends. It didn’t make any sense.

  Red’s past insecurities started nagging at her and she began to put Q through test after test, trying and prying to see if he would leave.

  One day Red found herself more tired than usual. It seemed that the stress of keeping the lies straight was taking a toll on her. She went downstairs to the kitchen for something to drink, and she found Kera mixing a protein drink and taking her prenatal vitamins. Suddenly Red rushed to the trash can and threw up last night’s dinner.

  “Uh-oh. Looks like someone’s pregnant,” Kera said.

  Wiping her mouth, Red straightened up and glared at Kera, then looked back at the trash can. “What?”

  “Yeah, throwing up first thing in the morning . . . pregnancy?”

  “No. Must be something I ate.”

  “Well, one sure way to find out is to eat something else; if you can’t keep that down, then eat some crackers or drink a club soda,” Kera added, like a friendly physician.

  Red looked around the kitchen to put Kera’s theory to the test. She pulled out four eggs. As she cracked them into a clear bowl to prepare her omelet, she felt Kera eye her with suspicion. Red got a small whiff of the eggs and the nausea came back.

  “I’ve lost my appetite,” Red announced and headed back upstairs.

  “Pregnancy test kits are at the corner store for five bucks,” Kera shouted after her.

  “Fuck you,” Red managed to shout over her shoulder.

  In the privacy of her room Red sat on the toilet, feeling uneasy. She had never felt this way before. She had never been pregnant before, either. Red hopped in the shower and noticed the sensitivity in her breasts. Just the sting of the water made them ache. What in the world is happening? she thought. Rushing like she was in the military, she finished in two minutes. She put on her Puma jogging suit and did what Kera suggested—headed to the corner store for a pregnancy test.

  When she returned, Q’s Range Rover was in the driveway. Instead of being happy, Red was annoyed. What the fuck he doing here? she thought. Walking into the house she found Sasha preparing what appeared to be a plate of pancakes for Q. “Q, what are you doing here?” Red asked coldly.

  “Don’t you remember? We got some business to handle today.”

  Red tried to recall what she and Q were supposed to do; then she remembered: she told him about the appointment she’d made to see Sasha and Catfish’s loft, as a potential new residence for the happy little family. “Oh sure, give me a second to get dressed.”

  As Red walked past, she noticed that Sasha was a little too friendly and close to Q. A little too inquisitive about his recent whereabouts. For once, something inside of her felt insecure. Does she want Q?

  Red sat on the toilet waiting for the outcome of the pregnancy test. A feeling of déjà vu spread over her. After three minutes the white stick began to take on a color of its own. The shade went from a light pink color to a strong cranberry hue. Red grabbed the box and read. Pink for yes, clear for no. Pink. Oh, no!

  • • •

  Driving down Woodward Avenue, Red had Q make a right turn at the Jefferson Avenue lofts. Q pulled the Range Rover up to the door and the valet opened Red’s door for her. As she exited, she looked over at Q and smiled. Summer was just getting its start and the flowers were in bloom. The lobby’s décor was very tasteful.

  Red faked like it was the first time she had seen Catfish’s loft. “What do you think?” she asked.

  “No, baby. It’s about you. What do you think? Can you feel safe here?” Q pulled Red close to him.

  They took the elevator to the eleventh floor. Red fumbled with her paperwork, doing her real estate routine.

  When they opened the door, the hardwood floors glistened. The place was nice, no doubt. Red knew that Q was a nigga from the hood and only dreamed of a place like this to call his own. It didn’t matter about the real estate comps or true price; Q would pay whatever she told him it was worth.

  Q walked up the platform that led to the master bedroom and admired the view of Canada on the opposite side of the Detroit River. Red walked over to the kitchen and pulled the drawers in and out. They looked at each other.

  “You want it?” Q asked.

  “Yes,” Red replied.

  “It’s yours.”

  “Don’t you wanna know how much it costs?”

  “Don’t matter. You want it, it’s yours.” He took her face into his hands. “Just tell me what you need.”

  Red began to melt as his face came inches from hers. Q kissed her on her lips, then he fell to one knee.

  Her head began to spin. Q was taking her there. He pulled something from his pocket.

  It was a pink emerald-cut diamond surrounded by clear round brilliants set in platinum. It almost looked like a sunflower. Q took Red’s hand and slid the ring on her finger as he asked, “Will you?”

  Q waited for a response and Red didn’t know how to answer.

  Sure, niggas said “wifey this” or “wifey that” but how many took it there with an official proposal?

  Not believing what Q had just done, Red looked into his eyes. Instead of giving him an answer, she put her hands into his and gently pulled, letting him know he could get up off of his knee. There’s something in his eyes, she thought, something different that she had never seen before. It made her uneasy, but it gave her a sense of comfort at the same time. Red stood on her toes and kissed Q with much more passion than she had previously. He returned the kiss, wanting to hold her, be one with her forever. Red took the time to explore Q’s body as she removed his shirt. Placing feather-like kisses on his chest, she made her way down to his stomach and felt Q’s dick straining against his pants. She released him and took him into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down, gently teasing the head. Q grabbed the back of Red’s neck and created a rhythm of their own. Red’s lips and tongue worked magic on his manhood, bringing him close to the point of no return.

  Q pulled back and in one quick motion, he laid Red on the floor. Their breathing, although heavy, was in sync with each other. Q looked into Red’s eyes with pure unadulterated lust as he undressed her. Once she was completely naked, he admired the perfection that lay before him. He covered her lips, neck, breasts and stomach with kisses that made Red squirm uncontrollably. Going down farther, Q buried himself in between Red’s legs, searching for a new life of his own, enjoying w
hat she had to offer.

  Trying to suppress an orgasm, Red pulled Q up toward her. With his dick positioned at her opening, he gently entered her nest and found his home. Placing her legs on his shoulders, Red arched her back and grabbed his ass, welcoming him home. The two kept a steady, forceful rhythm as if their lives depended on it. Red felt a familiar tingle as Q’s thrusts became deeper and more forceful. With his stroke technique, her eyes started to flutter and her pussy started to pulsate. “Goddamn!” she yelled as she held on for dear life and came all over his dick.

  Q’s breathing grew heavier. “Oh Red . . . shit, I’m cumming!” he yelled as he emptied himself inside of her. Her answer to his proposal was clear to Q.

  • • •

  “Mom, I need to you tell you something.”

  “What, girl? I got to get ready to leave.”

  I was sitting on my bed and my mother sat beside me. I had mustered the courage at ten years old to tell her. Hard as it was. You see, I was tired of having sex with Jerome in the middle of the night, when he was drunk, whenever my mother stepped out. I didn’t want to do it anymore.

  “Mom, it’s about Jerome,” I said.

  “Okay, what about him?”

  “Mom, he had sex with me.”

  “Who?”

  “Jerome.”

  “Red, why do you keep doing this, saying this? You just don’t want me to be happy, you ungrateful, self-centered little tramp!” my mother screamed as she jumped from my bed. I ran behind her hoping to catch her in an embrace, then maybe to shake some sense into her head. I had her by two inches in height and about twenty pounds in weight.

  “Mom, don’t do this to us. We don’t need him. He hurt me.”

  “I don’t believe you, and I wish you would stop. Red, it’s time for you to leave. You’re a woman now and you need to go make a life on your own. You won’t spoil this for me. I won’t let you.”

  “But, Mom, where am I supposed to go?”

  “You should have thought about that before you brought me in here with this bullshit.”

  “Mom, it’s the truth! I need you to be there for me.”

  “Red, I think you should leave.”

  • • •

  “How do you know that you love me?” Red asked.

  “’Cause my heart don’t lie,” Q replied.

  “Q, there is so much about me that you don’t know.”

  “Red, I know enough. I know that eventually you will be the mother of my child and that I want to spend my life with you.”

  “Q, but, I got shit with me.”

  “Who don’t? So, will you?” Q asked again, reminding her of his marriage proposal.

  “Yes.”

  CHAPTER 14

  The Come-Up

  Schottenstein Realty was more alive than usual. It was the end of the month and all the Realtors had closings and were excited about them. Red was proud to bring her recent deal to Gloria, the purchase of the loft and the equity line loan application. The loft was priced at $560,000. Gloria would get three percent of that amount and was glad to get it. Red had only one sale that month but for the amount it was, she’d be taking home a nice piece of change.

  Red would receive her three percent and the profit from telling Sasha the loft sold for only $300,000. She’d have $260,000 to add to her stash.

  In exchange for what appeared to be Red’s diligence, Gloria decided to share some news. “Raven, I’m going to help you get your broker’s license.”

  “Gloria, I don’t have enough sales to qualify for my broker’s license.”

  “I know. You are about twenty-five sales short, so what I am going to do is give you twenty of my sales. I want to retire, but I can’t keep the company open without an active broker. You’re young and you could manage things around here.”

  Red almost shed a tear. As a broker she’d have the freedom to go anywhere and start her own business. For once someone was willing to do something nice for her and she didn’t have to trick them or trick on them, either. “Gloria, you would do that for me?”

  “Raven, you are like a daughter to me. I keep telling you this.”

  Red walked out of the realty office five sales away from achieving her goal of becoming a broker. Everything seemed to be falling into place for her. Once she achieved her goal of hustling up one and a half million dollars, she was determined to bounce from Detroit and start a new life somewhere warm.

  Pulling into her circular driveway she noticed that the house was starting to look like a dump. All it took was for one roach to move in and the place went to hell.

  Red pressed the driver’s window down and extended her arm to unlatch the mailbox. Inside she found a stack of letters and one large manila envelope.

  There were four letters from the publishers to whom she’d sent Bacon’s manuscript. The first one was from Random House. Red tore eagerly at the tiny envelope and read: Thank you for your submission, however, the book is not a good fit for our list.

  She quickly tossed the letter into the empty passenger seat. Red used her fingernails to undo the second letter, from Jimmy Vines of The Vines Agency.

  Dear Ms. Gomez,

  I appreciate your submission, however, I do not represent this genre. I wish you luck with your pursuit of a writing career.

  My best,

  Jimmy Vines

  “Asshole!” Red yelled as she tossed that letter in the seat next to her as well.

  She sighed; landing a book deal was way too frustrating. It was making her feel like she was the author, she was the one being rejected. Red started to take the shit personally.

  She pulled into the garage, grabbed her belongings and headed inside. As Red approached the door she heard the sounds of Biggie Smalls pounding through the surround-sound speakers that were placed throughout the house. Stepping into the great room, she saw that Kera was among a small gathering of her friends. In the center of the table was a blue-and-pink cake with a stork stenciled on it. She had forgotten Kera’s shower.

  “Where you been, girl?” Kera asked. She walked up to Red with a plate of chips, dip and celery sticks.

  “Oh, girl, running around showing houses all damn day. Sorry I’m late.” Red placed her Chanel bag on the sofa table behind the couch alongside her keys and the remaining mail. “What’s good, ladies?” Red asked, speaking to the girls in the room.

  Kera was walking around in an off-the-shoulder top with her protruding belly. She looked like she was going to pop any day. Everyone in the group was rubbing on her stomach and for once, Red saw the glow on Kera’s face that many people say pregnant women carried. She wondered if people could tell that she was pregnant herself.

  Kera looked happy, which threw Red off. She was so used to people being fake and miserable. Red could spot a fake a mile away; it was the gleam in a person’s eyes or the way they relaxed their smile muscles that told the truth of the energy behind the person. But by golly Kera was just too damn jolly to be faking. The mommy-to-be was glad the stork would be visiting her soon.

  “Let’s open the gifts,” Sasha said as she lowered the music.

  As Red scanned the table filled with cards and gifts, it dawned on her that she hadn’t bought Kera anything. Red hadn’t thought twice about it. Immediately her mind went to all the shit she had in her closet that still had tags on it. All she had to do was run upstairs and drop something in a bag and run back down, without missing a beat. The problem was all she had to give was clothes and a new bottle of perfume hardly seemed appropriate for the occasion.

  “Bingo!” Red yelled so loudly that someone thought they were actually in a bingo hall.

  “What did you say?” an acne-ridden girl with braids asked.

  “Oh, nothing. I just remembered that I left Kera’s gifts downstairs,” she lied. “I’ll be right back.”

  This only made Kera get excited. Everyone knew that Red had exceptional taste and anything from her meant something expensive.

  Red walked swiftly toward the bas
ement door, thinking of all of the items she had stashed away, the items that Q had bought for her when she faked her pregnancy. Hell, I don’t need them, she thought as she stood looking at the goods.

  There was a stroller, a high chair, a tabletop baby seat, cases of diapers, OshKosh B’Gosh clothing, small baby sleepers, T-shirts and cases of Enfamil. It looked like Santa Claus had stopped by. At first Red was just going to grab one thing but thought, why save them? At one point she’d thought of returning everything. That was one of her old hustles when she would get clothes from the boosters: going back to the stores and trying to get as much money as she could off the merchandise. Red knew the value of kids’ items was high, but she just didn’t want to bother with the Toys “R” Us and Babies “R” Us stores. What better way to further wrap Kera around her finger than to give her a gang of shit for her bastard child?

  Red climbed back upstairs and gained the attention of everyone. She walked over to Kera. “Close your eyes.”

  Kera quickly did as she was asked, and Red guided her to the lower level of the house, motioning with her other hand for the women to follow her.

  “Don’t peek, Kera,” Red warned. She carefully led Kera down the wooden steps to the basement. Each stair creaked since they weren’t carpeted. Red never had a chance to finish the basement. It wasn’t on her list of priorities because it was the one place nobody ever really saw when they came to the house.

  When the girls got to the basement they were shocked that it was plain. They looked at Red, and she gave them the I know you ain’t goin’ there look. When they saw all the items partially hidden by the furnace, Red gestured for them to pull the gifts out in full view. The ladies began to slide and scoot the things across the concrete floor as Red kept her hands over Kera’s eyes. Kera began to wring her fingers in excitement.

  “Oh, please, Red, let me see.”

  “No, you have to wait,” Red said in a low voice.

  “You don’t want to spoil it, girl, trust and believe,” another friend said.

  “On the count of three you can open your eyes. Okay?” Red finally said when everything was arranged.