The Dirty Red Series

by Vickie M. Stringer

  “Blue, you can’t handle me anymore,” Red said tartly and walked off.

  “That’s what you think,” Blue muttered, watching that fine, fine ass strut away from him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Q thought about what he had seen on the tape and was even more convinced that Red didn’t intend to shoot him. It was hard to believe, but deep down, he knew that she couldn’t have shot him on purpose. He was still upset that she hadn’t been to the hospital to see him, though. Even though he still loved Red, he knew he had to let go emotionally.

  “Hey, Quentin!” Chass chirped as she entered his room wearing a big smile. She hadn’t forgotten how he spoke to her, but she wanted things to really work out for them, so she was willing to forgive him.

  “Hi, Chass,” he acknowledged, putting the tapes in his closet for safekeeping.

  “What are you doing?” she asked him.

  “Nothing, just trying to stay busy.”

  “I understand,” she told him. “Hey, I went by your place and got some more clothes for you. I can take your old ones back home and wash them.”

  “Okay,” he confirmed. “Hey look”—he turned and looked at Chass—“I’m sorry for the way I acted the other day. I’m just tired of being cooped up, that’s it.”

  “I understand, Quentin. You don’t have to apologize.”

  “Mr. Carter, are you ready?” the cute therapist asked as she came through the door.

  He walked slowly over to his wheelchair and plopped down. She pushed him out of the room.

  Chass looked around. What was he really doing in that closet? she asked herself. Since he was already down the hall, she walked to the closet and began to check through his things. She felt something hard, in a pocket, so she pulled it out. A videotape?

  She turned around to make sure the coast was still clear, then stuffed the tapes into the dirty clothes that she was taking home to wash for him.

  • • •

  Chass’s busy body plopped down on her couch after sticking the tape into her VCR. She was glad she hadn’t gotten rid of the old machine. She would wash the clothes later, but she wanted to know what was on the tape first. Her mouth dropped when she saw Red suddenly appear. Disappointment spread across her face.

  “Quentin’s still in love with her,” she said. “He’s covering for her.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The next day, Bacon opened the door to the villa to find Blue standing before him.

  “Yo, what’s happenin?” Bacon greeted him.

  “You know what it is,” Blue said, exchanging handshakes and giving Bacon a one-armed shoulder bump.

  Bacon waved for him to come in. Once inside, Blue looked around, taking in the luxurious accommodations.

  “Can I get you something?” Bacon asked, walking over to the wet bar. He poured himself a glass of Ciroc and pineapple juice.

  “I’ll have whatever you having.”

  Bacon poured another glass and handed it to Blue.

  “So what brings you by? I don’t have anything finalized yet,” Bacon admitted, sitting down on the sofa. He picked up the remote and pressed “play.” He wanted to finish watching the rest of Scarface. Slowly he sipped on his drink.

  The two men sat and watched the rest of the gangster flick. Once it was over, Blue asked, “Yo, where shorty at?” He had finished his drink.

  “She restin’, man. She went out shopping earlier. You know how they do, spend up all yo’ money before you can even make it, then come home bone tired.”

  They both laughed.

  “Yo, Bacon,” Blue said. “I can push two more kilos if you getting extra weight. I pretty much got the Bronx on lock and just secured my soldiers in Jersey. Got real niggas that hungry, man, and wanna eat.”

  Bacon looked at Blue. “You know, I like you. You ambitious.”

  “Shit, a nigga gotta do what he gotta do.”

  “That’s right,” Bacon acknowledged.

  Just then, Bacon’s cell phone rang. He slid the “talk” bar to the right and answered it. “Speak.”

  Blue looked toward the bedroom, wondering if Red was really sleeping.

  Bacon got up off the couch.

  • • •

  On the other side of the door, Red was fuming. What the fuck is that nigga doing here? That nigga just tried to ruin my shit with Bacon, she whispered to herself in disbelief, but why didn’t he just tell him we fucked around? He making it seem like I’m this scandalous heifer, but he got everything he deserved. She thought back to how Blue had played her when she was younger. She smiled when she remembered him eating the dooky-filled enchiladas at her crib.

  Blue was playing his cards too close to his chest. Now she would have to sting him, too. She went to her drawer and grabbed her tiny digital recorder, then returned to the door and opened it a crack.

  “Yo, I’ma take this call real quick,” Bacon told Blue and stepped out onto the balcony.

  Once Bacon was out of ear range, Blue pulled out his Black-Berry and dialed a number.

  “Yo, what up? Yeah, I need to know about the deal on old girl’s head, and if it’s still good . . . Naw, what I’m saying is, I got old girl, and if the bounty is still in effect, I can get her.” Blue confirmed. “Yeah, yeah.” There was a momentary silence, then he spoke again. “Yeah, yeah, the other chick been taken care of back in New York. That was hard, though, man, ’cause she was carrying my seed. But this ho is more, right?”

  Oh, my God, Red thought. There was a bounty on Sasha’s head and mine? Fuck!!! She wanted to run out of the room and have Bacon kill Blue, but she had to get herself together.

  Red paced back and forth nervously. She had to come up with something quick to handle Blue before he could handle her. She had an idea who was calling the shots behind the scenes, but she would have to confirm it first. Then she would have to come up with a plan to take care of them both.

  “I’ma handle my business. I’ll let you know exactly when and where,” Blue said into his phone, then ended his call.

  “Let me know when and where, you son of a bitch!” Red spat venomously, striding into the room.

  “I knew your scandalous ass wasn’t asleep,” Blue told her as she walked out of the bedroom.

  “So, you killed her, huh?”

  “What are you talking about?” Blue smiled.

  “You sorry, little-dick, shit-eating bastard!” Red snarled, then remembered Bacon was close by. She didn’t want to alert him that something was wrong.

  “Little dick, huh? You liked it.”

  “I liked your money, you stupid muthafucka. Why you have that girl killed?”

  An exasperated laugh escaped Blue’s lips. “You didn’t give a fuck about Sasha,” he told her, “and you know it. Let’s just keep it real. You wanted to get her for fucking with me anyway.”

  “She didn’t deserve to die!” Red countered.

  “What’s this?” Blue asked, raising his hands into the air. “Oh, so now since you fucking with Bacon, you a mighty baller’s bitch and you got some type of conscience now? You ain’t never had one before but you got one now? You fake, Red. You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself and you know that.”

  “You right, I didn’t like her with you, but damn, you got that bitch pregnant and you still killed her? You a cold, heartless son of a bitch!”

  “Like you give a fuck?” Blue jeered, throwing his hands up. “So what? I set the bitch up and I had her killed! So the fuck what? I fucked her over before you could. Is that why you mad, Red? Because I got to her first? You’re just like me so don’t stand there and pretend you’re any different. You use people to get what you want, and then you throw them away like dirty towels. I used Sasha, and she served me, did whatever the fuck I said. She was a true ride-or-die chick, Red. Someone you could have taken lessons from. Yeah, she was carrying my seed, but like they say, Bounty is the quicker picker-upper, and in the end, money talks and bullshit walks. She got used for what she was good for.”r />
  “Using folks, huh?” Red repeated, then frowned. “Is that what you’re doing to Bacon?”

  “Why do you care?” Blue smiled. “You’re using him to get the lifestyle you want, and so am I, so at the end of the day, we’re both the same.”

  “And if I tell him?”

  “Tell him what?” Blue said, stepping in her face. “How I used to fuck you? Do you really want to tell him that? Niggas like Bacon don’t want to hear that shit. You think a baller want to hear that his girl used to fuck with a nigga that works for him?”

  Blue laughed. “You tell him that, and you’ll be out on the streets like yesterday’s trash. No, you ain’t gonna tell him shit.”

  “You try anything, and I swear, Bacon will kill you,” Red threatened. “I ain’t no weak-ass bitch like Sasha.”

  An evil smile spread across Blue’s face. “Tell your man that I had to step out, but I’ll get with him later.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Blue stepped around Red and headed out the door. When he was gone, Red pulled her tiny digital recorder out of her pocket and played back the conversation that she had just recorded. Sure enough, the recorder had worked and recorded everything loud and clear. “I got you now, you son of a bitch.” Blue had just confessed on tape to killing Sasha for money.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Detective Thomas pulled up to the house, parked his car, then walked up the driveway to the spacious home. Once he got to the front door, he spied the doorbell on the wall to the side of the door and pressed the button.

  “Damn, who is it now?” Red cursed. She leaned forward and turned the shower handle to the off position. The steaming hot water immediately ceased to pour from the showerhead, and Red reached out of the shower stall for a thick towel. “Bacon, you better not have forgotten your key again.”

  The bell rang again.

  “Coming!” Red shouted. After wrapping herself in the towel, she stepped out of the shower and headed for the front door.

  She swung it open, only to find Detective Thomas standing before her. He took a good look at her long, curly red hair and her soft, glistening, toffee-colored skin with just a hint of red undertones—perfect. Her skin was perfect, not a pimple in sight. A lump quickly formed in his throat. He hadn’t known how beautiful she actually was until then.

  “Raven Gomez?” Detective Thomas asked.

  Red nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “I’m Detective Thomas from the Detroit Police Department. May I come in?”

  Reluctantly, and trying not to hide her nervousness, Red nodded and stepped to the side. “Come in.”

  Detective Thomas stepped inside Bacon’s house and looked around. He noted the luxurious furnishings, the high-dollar electronics and the sheer opulence of the home.

  He whistled. “Wow! Nice place.”

  “Thank you,” Red said with a slight edge to her voice. For the first time, she wondered about the wisdom of letting a police officer inside her home. After all, Bacon wasn’t exactly an upstanding citizen with a legit job. He was a dope dealer, with a high-dollar crib and custom-made furniture. Allowing the detective inside to inspect things could invite the narcotics division into their lives, and if Bacon came home while Thomas was still there, Red didn’t want to think of what would happen. Detective Thomas was a distraction that she didn’t need right now. He could cause more problems than he was worth.

  “You live here alone?”

  “No, it’s actually my boyfriend’s place.”

  “Lucky you,” Detective Thomas said with a smile. “What is he, a professional athlete?”

  “Business owner.”

  “Really?” The detective lifted an eyebrow. “Of what? Anything I’ve heard of?”

  Red shrugged. “What can I do for you today, Detective?”

  Detective Thomas smiled. “You’re a hard one to find.”

  “Why is that? My driver’s license is registered to this address.”

  “May I?” Thomas asked, waving his hand toward a spot on the couch.

  Red exhaled. “Suit yourself.”

  She could tell that he wasn’t going to be that easy to get rid of. Good thing for her that Bacon was going to be gone for a while. Still, having a homicide detective inside her home sniffing around wasn’t a good thing. She would have to be on her toes.

  Detective Thomas seated himself on the couch. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few more questions about Ezekiel Morrison?”

  Red rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t worry, this is just an interview. You’re not in any trouble or under arrest or anything. I just have a few simple questions.”

  “Go ahead,” Red told him. She knew she had a right to be worried. He was snooping around about that bastard Zeke. The good thing was that he wasn’t here to arrest her. At least not yet, but still, she had this stupid shit hanging over her head, as well as that shit with Q. She had to get rid of some of this shit off her back. She was putting her plan in place to get even with everyone, and she certainly didn’t need the police on her back. Actually, she needed to get them on her side.

  Thomas pulled out his notepad.

  “One thing,” Red told him.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m kinda in a hurry, so you’re going to have to ask me what you need to ask while I get dressed. Is that okay?”

  Thomas shrugged. “Sure, I don’t mind.”

  “Cool.” Red turned, walked into the bathroom and gathered her hairbrush, some coconut oil and her underwear. She dried herself off, slipped into her bra and panties, wrapped a dry towel back around her body and returned to the living room with the rest of her materials.

  She stood just in front of the detective and rested her petite foot on the coffee table, then began to pour the coconut oil into her hand. After rubbing her hands together she bent over and slowly rubbed the oil up and down her leg. Thomas watched as her shapely, long, taut, sinewy leg turned a silky, smooth, coppery red as the oil soaked into her pores. The observant detective noticed that her feet were small, and her toenails were perfectly manicured with French tips. He loved pretty feet. A woman who took care of her feet was a definite turn-on for him. Most women took care of fingernails and the parts of the body that everyone could see—their hair, their face—but the ones who took care of the parts that weren’t too visible every day were perfect in his mind. Again, a lump formed in his throat.

  Red watched his reaction to what she was doing. His eyes were following her hands as they glided up and down her legs. He looked like a hungry dog eyeing a thick T-bone steak, ready to devour if just given the chance. She knew that she had him.

  Red had a trump card to play, and it was the one card that she had always played. It was the one card that she had played her entire life. Her body. She would use her body as her defense. It was her one weapon, and she was a master at using it.

  Men had wanted her as far back as she could remember. Her good looks, coupled with her sexy body, made men accept the unacceptable, forget the unforgettable and believe the unbelievable. She planned on using what God blessed her with to see if she could make this detective believe her. Make him her friend. She would see if she could make him be her defender in a world that was slowly closing in on her.

  Red continued to slowly rub the oil all over her legs and arms, massaging them in a seductive manner, and then she looked at the detective.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked innocently, grabbing at her towel.

  Thomas shook his head and swallowed hard. He could barely speak. “No, go ahead.” He was enjoying the show.

  She dropped her towel, and began to add more oil to her body. Detective Thomas observed that not only did she have no fat, but also she had rock-hard abs and a firmly toned body all around. She had no blemishes, no cuts, no scars, no nothing. Her svelte body was perfect.

  “This is what I hate the most,” Red told him with a slight smile.

  “What is that?” Thomas asked. He was having
difficulties concentrating on what brought him to the mansion because his manhood was growing by the second and as if it were about to snap in two. He began to fidget on the sofa, trying to get more comfortable.

  “I can’t reach my back,” Red complained. “Who wants a dry itchy back all day? Would you?”

  “Would I what?” Thomas asked.

  “Hook a sister up?” Red asked, handing him the oil.

  Detective Thomas stood slowly, shifting his dick in his pants. It still stuck out, revealing that he was rock hard. He wanted some of Red badly. Thomas took the oil, squeezed some onto his hand and then rubbed it onto Red’s back. He was just about at his breaking point. Red knew by his trembling hands that she had him. She also looked down out of the corner of her eye, and noticed his hard-on saluting her.

  “How long have you known Ezekiel?” Thomas asked, trying to remember what brought him here.

  Red shrugged. “Since I’ve been knowing Q. They were partners.”

  Detective Thomas walked his eyes up and down her body and swallowed hard. “Were you two close?”

  Red shook her head. “Not at all.”

  “Were you friends?”

  “We knew of each other.”

  “So you weren’t buddies or anything.”

  “Not in the least.”

  Thomas eyeballed her ass, scarcely covered by her barely legal panties. “You were there at the apartment the day he died?” Somehow he managed to get this thought together to question her.

  Red nodded.

  The detective’s voice broke. “I’m done.”

  “Thanks,” she told him, taking the oil from his hand. “I’m really in a hurry.”

  “Well, then I’ll get out of your way,” Thomas told her. “I can see that you’re busy.”

  Red walked Thomas to the door. “I still have your card, Detective.”

  Thomas nodded. “Use it, any time you need anything.”

  Red opened the door for the detective and smiled at him. “I will.”

  “You have a good day,” Thomas told her.

  “You, too,” Red replied softly. She closed the door. She wanted desperately to laugh, but didn’t out of fear that he might hear her. She had him, and she knew it. She had just gone through an interview without the detective asking her one single fucking question of any substance. Thomas would fit right into her little plan of revenge. Tonight, she was going to celebrate with Bacon, get him drunk at the club and then complete the next step in her plan.