The Dirty Red Series

by Vickie M. Stringer

  “All right,” Q said hesitantly, “let’s go kick it.”

  • • •

  Throughout the night, Q mingled with some of the heavy hitters, while Red politely stood near him as his showpiece. Some of the women attempted to include Red in on their conversations, but she avoided talking about herself. Her evasiveness came across as being stuck up, so the other women went elsewhere. Q noticed this happening quite often, so he excused himself from the conversation he was having to talk to Red.

  “Baby, come here,” he said as he gently touched the small of her back and escorted her to a quiet place. “What’s wrong? It doesn’t look like you’re having a good time.”

  “Baby, I’m having a great time.” Red finished off her drink. “I just don’t deal with too many women. Especially ones I don’t know.” She revealed her true feelings about her last girlfriends. “All my so-called friends were users—Sasha, Terry and Kera—and I’m just tired of the whole mess. I don’t want to make any new friends.”

  Q nodded with understanding. “Red, I know you’ve been through a lot, but not everyone uses people. Don’t let past experiences get in the way of making new ones.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Come on, baby.” Q slowly led Red back to the group he was talking to. “Plus, you don’t know these women and they don’t know you. Half of them lyin’ anyway.” He tried to make light of the situation and Red smiled at his attempt.

  “Hey, Q, my man!” a short Mexican man interrupted them. “You havin’ a good time?”

  “A wonderful time,” Q admitted with a wide smile.

  “And who is this lovely lady over here?”

  “Jose, this is my girl, Raven.” She extended her hand. “Baby, this is the man that made tonight possible.” Jose took her hand and kissed it.

  “This is very nice,” she said, looking around. The rule of the game was never show a major playa that you’re too impressed. Too much excitement shows that you never had shit.

  “Q, why don’t you come up top later?” Jose motioned toward the upper level. “I think you and your lady friend may like the view.” He had heard in conversations of a new product, in various forms, that could make anyone in the game an instant millionaire. Although Q was trying to get out of the game, his curiosity was getting the best of him.

  “A’ight, bet,” Q confirmed. “We’ll be checkin’ you out later.”

  Red and Q walked away and blended into the crowd.

  Red took Q’s advice and mingled with the men and their women. After a few hours, she realized she was enjoying herself. Most of the conversation revolved around being wifey, expensive shopping sprees, exotic vacations and, of course, major loot.

  Red remembered her introduction into the wifey lifestyle, courtesy of Blue, and some of her other conquests. However, Bacon had been her biggest score, and truth be told, she had enjoyed her opulent lifestyle. Too bad he wasn’t able to enjoy it after he got locked up, because I sure did have a ball. Red smiled a sinister grin at the thought.

  • • •

  Meanwhile, on the upper deck, another party of sorts kicked off. These were the major players of the dope game and long-term connections had been made. Bacon’s newfound confidence and appearance allowed him to network in a way he never had before. He realized that his street persona would only allow him to get so far. Now, it was a whole new day.

  “Papi, you wanna taste this?” Maria, the thick one, asked Bacon. She finally gave up a name and was trying her best to entice him while she attempted to feed him a tiger prawn. “It’s big and juicy,” she purred, taking a seat on his lap and grinding her ass into his crotch.

  Bacon knew exactly what she was up to. Bitch ain’t want me at first, now she ridin’ my joint. These women ain’t good for nothin’ but fuckin’. He thought back to Red and was humiliated because he’d been played by her all along. First her, now Maria was standing in his face, trying to serve pussy on a platter.

  “So now you want some of dis, huh?” Bacon asked.

  “Papi, I want all of it.” She gyrated some more.

  Bacon couldn’t help but get an erection. He hadn’t had pussy since Foxy and it was past time to get up in the sweet gushy, but now wasn’t the time. He had business to take care of.

  Bacon spotted Jose talking to Maurice and some other people. He excused himself and left Maria, who was shocked to be denied.

  “Isadore, my main man!” Jose greeted him. “You enjoyin’ yourself? Is there anything I can get for you?”

  “I have everything I could want and more,” Bacon answered honestly.

  “Good . . . good.”

  A beautiful, well-toned woman walked by them on her way back to the small pool. All of their eyes followed as her luscious ass bounced every time she took a step.

  “Man,” Jose said. “You think that’s something . . . you might wanna go downstairs. There’s one that puts all these women to shame.”

  “Straight up?” Bacon replied.

  “Yeah. I’m sure she’ll be up soon. Acts like none of this shit impresses her, but it does.” The men knew her type very well. “When Raven comes up you’ll see what I mean. She is what tonight is all about.”

  The men looked on in hopes of more.

  Raven? A darkness washed over Bacon. He would have to go to the main level to see for himself, but in due time.

  • • •

  Bacon spent his time networking and now had enough connections to get him back on top and never fall. He wanted to get to the main deck to see this Raven person Jose referred to earlier, but he had more important matters at hand. When Bacon first met Jose, he didn’t realize the barbershop was a cover for his drug ring.

  • • •

  There was something about Bacon that Jose liked . . . his pride, his determination, but mainly his hunger. Jose figured by allowing Bacon to work for him, they’d both benefit from it.

  • • •

  Maria stayed close by Bacon’s side all night, making it harder to turn down her advances. Half drunk and having had some Black Tar heroin, Bacon was sure he would take her back to Maurice’s villa and beat the walls out of her pussy. I don’t care how good this shit is, he vowed as peered at Maria, I will never let another woman stand in the way of, or benefit from, my come-up.

  • • •

  Once the cruise came to an end, Q escorted Red back to their waiting limo. On their way to the resort, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. The alcohol they’d consumed took over their bodies, making every sensation more pronounced.

  “Q, baby,” Red said between kisses, “thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked with her breast in his mouth and his hand caressing her thigh.

  Red couldn’t concentrate enough to answer him. The limo arrived at their destination. Q quickly helped Red become presentable before the driver opened the door. Once they were back in their room, they hurriedly undressed each other and made love where their clothes landed. After the first climax, Q carried Red to the bedroom and laid her across the bed.

  “What were you saying earlier?” Q asked. “You said thank you. Thank you for what?”

  “Just being here for me. I know these last two weeks weren’t what you wanted, but I’ve realized that I’ve taken you for granted and to be honest with you Q, it was just a facade. I was afraid of being hurt, but I now know you won’t hurt me.”

  “I would never do that, Red.”

  “I want to be with you, Q.” She looked at him in his eyes. “I want to take this farther and see where it goes. Do I still have a home once we get back to Detroit?” Red was referring to the loft she’d conned Q into buying.

  “It wouldn’t be home without you.”

  Red and Q regained their energy and made love repeatedly throughout the night. Their fantasy would be over in just a few hours. It was time to return home . . . back to reality.

  CHAPTER 13

  Sh . . .” Kera put her fingers to her lips as Mekel peeked in on her and the baby. Mekel wondere
d why Kera always seemed so stressed nowadays. He figured it was because she was back at work from her maternity leave and was tired. He made sure he got up in the middle of the night when lil’ Mekel woke up so she could get her rest. He did everything she asked of him, and then some, so he wondered why Kera wasn’t happy now. After all, she had her baby back safely, she had redecorated and she’d even gotten her baby’s father to leave his woman for her—something Mekel never thought he’d do in a million years . . . wind up with Kera. He watched her go into the bedroom and followed behind her.

  She eased the baby into his crib and dragged herself toward their bedroom and dropped like a rag doll.

  “Waa . . . sniff . . . sniff . . . waa!” the baby bellowed again.

  “I’ll get him.” Mekel rubbed Kera on the back, then headed back toward the nursery. Why does he have to cry so much? he said to himself. Arriving in front of the crib, he reached down and picked him up firmly, hoping Kera hadn’t blessed him again.

  “A’ight, lil’ man.” Mekel held him so close to his chest, he could hear his baby’s heart beating. He grabbed a changing pad and sat down in the glider, spreading the pad on his lap. Talking to him in baby talk, he laid his son on his lap and checked his diaper.

  “Aw . . . that’s the problem,” he cooed as he discovered the smelly, soft mush. After he cleaned Mekel Jr. up, giving him a fresh powder and diaper, Mekel kissed his son’s tiny feet, suddenly realizing what that one crazy-ass night in Las Vegas created. He was elated that he was now a father and to him, his son was perfect. No one could tell him anything different. He grabbed a receiving blanket and swaddled his son tightly. He noticed that when the baby was wrapped tightly, he didn’t seem to cry so much, something that he was certain that Kera didn’t know.

  He walked to the window and gently massaged his son’s back. “Don’t worry, lil’ man. Daddy got you.” With that, he went to the living room and lay down on the couch with his son on his chest, where they both went to sleep . . . peacefully.

  • • •

  Kera overheard Mekel’s claim, “Daddy got you,” through the baby monitor. She sucked in her trembling lips as tears escaped her eyes. How would Mekel react when she told him her secret? She’d never felt lower in her life.

  Then the horrible truth hit her once again. How could her whole world turn from so bright to so dark in just one conversation with the doctor? Kera tried to make sense of the information she’d received from the pediatric neurologist the other day, all the while still battling nightmares of the kidnapping. It was just too many traumas, too close together; one onslaught after another had exhausted her, both mentally and physically. Somewhere in the back of her mind, even before the appointment, she knew her child wasn’t out of the woods. Maybe it was her maternal instincts, but she knew there was a long road ahead of them.

  Kera lay on the examining table while her OB/GYN spread the blue gel over small protrusion of her belly. She was just now beginning her second trimester. Her first trimester was challenging and she thought she would lose her baby. She didn’t care at first because she didn’t like how Mekel had played her.

  Although Kera didn’t have the amount of men that Red had, she did keep male company who kicked her some ends from time to time. Kera’s displeasure with Mekel turned her into a woman even she didn’t know. She kicked it, drinking, smoking weed and having wild sex. None of her partners knew she was pregnant because she was so small and not showing, but they said something was different with the way her pussy felt . . . it felt better. That kept them coming and cumming.

  She realized as well that sex was better, and since she couldn’t have Mekel, any dick would do. Only when she felt the first faint flutter in her stomach did she realize she was going to be someone’s mother with or without Mekel. At that revelation, Kera stopped her promiscuous behavior and began anticipating her new arrival.

  “There it is,” the doctor spoke as he found the baby’s heartbeat. “Nice and strong,” he confirmed. The doctor handed Kera a wet wipe to clean herself off and sat down on the stool. He opened her chart and began to ask questions.

  “How have you been feeling?”

  “I’ve been feeling well.”

  “Good. I was concerned about you. You seemed upset the last time you were here.”

  “I guess I was just emotional.”

  “Any alcohol or drug use?”

  “No,” she lied.

  “Unprotected sexual behavior?”

  “Nooo!” Kera exclaimed, embarrassed.

  “Just standard procedure,” the doctor assured her. “Well, everything looks great. Schedule your next month’s appointment before you leave and I’ll see you in four weeks.”

  Kera’s mind fast-forwarded to her most recent visit with lil’ Mekel’s pediatrician. They were joined by a pediatric neurologist. Kera brought the baby in because she didn’t feel he was progressing as well as he should. At almost two months old, he should have been holding his head up, cooing and laughing. But he wasn’t.

  “Kera, I need to ask you a question,” the pediatrician said to her, as she fastened the baby’s diaper. “Did you drink or do drugs during your pregnancy?”

  Tearful, Kera replied, “I did drink some but—”

  “Well, your son has classic signs of fetal alcohol syndrome. The fine motor skills and developmental delay is the result of repeated alcohol use.” The neurologist looked at her and shook his head.

  Kera held tightly on to little Mekel, rocked back and forth and cried. “No, my baby can’t be . . .”

  She’d demanded a second opinion. Delayed motor skills . . . mental delays that won’t be noticeable until after the first birthday, played in her head as she remembered what the doctor told her. Kera was brought back to reality listening to Mekel converse with their son over the baby monitor. There’s no way in hell that my baby is retarded, she thought. No fucking way!

  • • •

  A couple of hours passed and Mekel bottle-fed his son, who was now wide awake. He couldn’t continue to hold him, although he wanted to; he had to clean up around the apartment. Kera had seemed too depressed lately to keep the dishes washed, the place picked up or the clothes washed and folded, so he decided to do it himself. He hoped Kera didn’t have that postpartum depression he’d heard about on Oprah once.

  He unwrapped his son, placed him in the swing, and pushed the start button. He gazed on as his son gently swung back and forth, and listened to the lovely melody flowing from the music box. Suddenly his son’s head slumped to the left and Mekel got a vision that made him shudder. He had seen that look on “special” children.

  Mekel stopped the swing, and removed the infant headrest from the baby carrier and placed it behind his son. Even though his son was almost two months old, Mekel figured he wasn’t old enough to hold his head up yet anyhow.

  “That’s better,” Mekel said softly and started the swing up again. He watched for about a minute as his son enjoyed the swing. Then Mekel grabbed a load of clothes out of the hamper and sat on the couch, beginning to sort them to wash. He heard something hard drop to the floor as he separated the darks from the lights.

  Seeing it was his cell phone he picked it up. The red light was flashing, indicating he had a message. He flipped it open. It read: 4 missed calls.

  Mekel dialed the number to check his voice mail; the first three calls were from women offering everything from money to sex. One even offered her home to him when he got tired of playing daddy. The last call was only a recording. Someone had tried to contact him from the county jail. His mind wandered a mile a minute. I wonder who that could have been? As he continued to sort the clothes, he assured himself, “They’ll call back if it was important.”

  CHAPTER 14

  A week had passed since Red and Q returned home. They lay low to give their bodies time to adjust to the climate change. Q headed out early to cruise the neighborhood. After driving around, he stopped at Foxy’s. He rang the bell repeatedly, just to piss her off. He
heard her cursing as she stomped toward the front door.

  “What the fuck is your—” Foxy flung open the door and started to go off until she saw Q standing in front of her with a large grin on his face.

  “Q!” Foxy squealed and stepped back to let him inside the house. Once she closed the door, they exchanged hugs. Foxy was elated and relieved to see him. She was glad to see that Bacon hadn’t lied about not killing him. “So, where you been?” she asked, trotting off to the kitchen to get a beer. “I ain’t seen you in a long time.” She returned with the beer and handed it to Q, who took a seat in the living room. She raised an eyebrow and took in how good he looked. Actually, he looked better than ever with that sun-kissed skin.

  “I been to Mexico,” he replied then turned the bottle up to his lips and sucked down the golden liquid. “Needed a change of scenery.” He plunked the bottle down on the coaster on the coffee table.

  “Well, the change looks like it did you well.” Foxy playfully kneaded his pectorals. “You look better than ever.”

  Q blushed and they spent the next half hour catching up. However, Foxy’s smile diminished quickly when Red’s name was brought up.

  “Just spending this time with her,” Q admitted, “I think we’ve come to a mutual understanding. I think I’m gonna try to make it work.”

  “What about Bacon?” Foxy quizzed.

  “He’s the least of my worries right now. But he definitely got something comin’ his way,” Q promised.

  “Q.” Foxy sighed, and carefully chose her next words. “I know you love Red, or you think you do. Because of this, I support you, but just be careful. She’s not gonna change,” she warned.

  Q’s demeanor changed and Foxy noticed it, so she quickly changed the subject. “Did ya hear that Black Tar is on the street?”

  Still upset about what she had said about his relationship with Red, Q glared at Foxy, eyes slightly squinted. “It’s supposed to be better than any of this other shit out here. Niggas trying to get it left and right, but it’s hard to get.”

  Q thought back to the midnight cruise and the bells ringing over the drug. He knew what she was referring to. Anyone who was anyone spoke about it on the midnight cruise, but he was surprised it was in Detroit so soon. Q had to admit, getting back into the game with something as prime as this was tempting, but he was adamant about getting out. Q’s mind quickly diverted back to the check Red gave him at the church. One point six million dollars was nothing to sneeze at, and if invested properly, that would be pocket change. Red told Q that she would deposit the check today. He was glad. He was ready to move on with the other phase of his life.