by Jade Jones
If, for any reason, Roxie did feel like a female was stepping on her toes she could be the most confrontational person ever. That was partly why she was O’ Zone’s girlfriend. She had bossed her way into the position, scaring off the competition at any opportunity she could.
Roxie’s cute ass was crazy as hell, but honestly the shit only turned O’ Zone on. When most women couldn’t deal with his abrasive personality and cocky demeanor, Roxie embraced him for who he was.
“Don’t start with that shit,” O’ Zone said. “You wifey and you know dat. And anyway, why were you at the clinic?” He was skilled at turning the table.
“A pap smear,” Roxie quickly lied. He didn’t need to know about the tests, especially since everything had come back negative.
O’ Zone gave her a sideways look, but decided to drop the subject. “Whatever you say, Rox,” he told her. “But what’s up with some more of that mouth?”
***
“Damn, that mouth so mothafuckin’ wet,” Flint moaned.
He forced Elyse’s head as far down on his dick as he could. Most chicks he dealt with would’ve gagged or pulled back, but Elyse accepted the whole package like a pro. She also didn’t deny Flint when he shot his load inside her mouth.
A few years ago if anyone would’ve told him he’d be messing with a white girl, Flint would’ve probably laughed in their face. He loved his sistas, but Elyse was a bonafied freak that went places most women weren’t willing to go. Elyse wasn’t the sexiest, but she was decent enough with her average looks and dark auburn hair.
Parked discreetly inside a one-way alley, they sat inside Flint’s gunmetal black Hummer H3. They were only a few blocks from Elyse’s home. She lived with her folks, and she couldn’t risk them seeing Flint. There was no doubt in her mind that they’d judge her. So every time he slid through they would find an alley to duck off into to do their thing.
Elyse loved being fun and spontaneous when it came to sex, but she still couldn’t wait to get her own spot. She didn’t mind working tirelessly for Cameron because she really needed the money. Of course, Flint had no idea that Elyse worked for or even knew his boss.
“Got damn,” he groaned. He tried his best to pull himself together. If Elyse continued slobbing him down like that he might’ve been tempted to wife her.
Flint barely had time to stuff his flaccid dick back inside his True Religion jeans before two armed men tapped their guns against the windows.
Elyse shrieked in fear. Her first thought was that they were being robbed. Flint quickly made a move to reach for the glove compartment—
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” One of them warned.
“Unlock the doors!” the other demanded.
With trembling fingers, Flint did as he was told. “Man, what’s this shit about?” he asked, climbing out his truck.
The armed gunmen nudged Flint with his automatic. He wouldn’t hesitate to start spraying either if he tried anything funny. Flint was shoved into the back of a black minivan against his will, leaving behind a sobbing Elyse. Before he had a chance to ask any questions a sack was yanked over his head.
***
Cameron brought her Audi Q7 to a slow stop along the curb of her old neighborhood. It seemed like just yesterday when she and Jude packed everything they owned inside a moving truck and made the eleven hour drive down South.
After killing the engine, Cameron climbed out and opened the back door. Justin was wide awake and alert, probably afraid that he was going to miss something. Cam started to have Elyse watch him until she realized she’d neglected him long enough.
Cameron pressed the automatic door lock button, and headed to Rumor’s townhome. Her candy red Lexus ISC wasn’t parked out front as usual, but it could’ve also been parked in the garage.
Toting Justin on one hip, Cameron knocked on Rumor’s front door. She instantly heard the approaching pitty-patter of tiny footsteps followed by Tigger’s high-pitched barks. Cameron waited another couple minutes before accepting that Rumor wasn’t home.
“Damn, where could she be?” Cam asked herself.
Every time she called her cellphone she was sent straight to voicemail. Cam figured Rumor’s cellphone battery was probably dead. She hoped her girl was okay, but a nagging feeling told Cam that something was definitely up.
***
Flint’s heart beat rapidly inside his chest as he was led to his final destination. With the potato sack still covering his head, he had no clue where he was.
“Boss man wanna holla at you,” one of his captor’s said in a deep tone.
Flint’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when they all stopped. Suddenly, the sack was snatched off his head. He eagerly took in his surroundings. He was inside an expansive office with glossy white flooring and all white furniture. The maroon toss pillows were the only splashes of color in the entire room. Tall pillars standing opposite of each other made the ceiling seem higher than it actually was.
It didn’t take Flint long to realize he was inside of a home. Now he understood why he was forced to wear a sack. The owner obviously didn’t want anyone to know the location of his residence for safety reasons.
Flint’s yellow tinted eyes rested on the man standing across from him. Champion Fuller leaned against a black handcrafted desk. He didn’t look all too happy at the sight of Flint.
“This mothafucka King prolly ain’t even been embalmed yet, and I’m already hearin’ about some young nigga takin’ his place. Why did I not hear this shit from you?” Champion’s tone was deep, raspy, and reminiscent of a smoker’s voice.
Flint nervously cleared his throat. He was a prideful man who was never easily intimidated. Yet there was something about Champion that screamed “killer.” He definitely wasn’t the motherfucker to cross.
Standing at an average 5”11, Champion wasn’t a very big guy. He looked a lot like rapper Cam’ Ron from his Pain in Full days, and even had the same cocky attitude. However, Champion’s hand wasn’t in the drug game. He’d been competing with King’s ring for over a year until he finally decided to wipe him out the competition. It was Flint who’d told him about the party on the yacht, granting Champion a perfect opportunity to attack when it was least expected.
Unfortunately, King never knew he had a snake in his camp working as an informant for his rival. Yet like a wise man once said: ‘for there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.’ King placed his loyalty in the wrong hands, and ultimately it cost him his life.
“I—uh…,” Flint’s voice came out hoarse so he cleared it again. “I was just as surprised by da news as you are, Champ,” he spoke quickly. “Trust me though, he’s far from being a threat. Shit, man, he ain’t nothin’ but a kid. All you gotta do is gimme da word and I’ll put a bullet in that nigga’s head myself—“
Champion held his hand up, signaling silence. “Nah, I got niggas that’ll handle shit like that for me, bruh. I’m thinkin’ though…”
Flint swallowed the dry lump that had formed in his throat. He knew one fuck up with Champion could end with him losing his life. Flint was willing to do whatever it took to prove his loyalty to Champion and his camp. Although he was simply greedy and unappreciative he complained that he was underpaid working for King. Flint was also bitter about King promoting Jude to the position he’d wanted since day one.
“Nah, hold off on doin’ anything,” Champion finally said. “I think I got somethin’ better in mind.”
10
Jude stood in the middle of King’s empty office. Two furniture movers carried out the last piece of furniture which was an Olantio bookcase and hutch.
In silence, Jude took in his empty surroundings. He couldn’t believe King had handed his precious business over to him: a small time dude from Cleveland. Although Jude had his work cut out for him, he couldn’t wait to prove the motherfuckers wrong who doubted he could handle the responsibility. Even Cam had given him the side-eye.
I can do this shit,
Jude told himself repeatedly. Squatting down to the floor, he ran his hands over his fresh haircut and released a deep sigh. Here we go.
***
King’s funeral had more people crammed inside than a free Young Jeezy concert. Unfortunately, no one was celebrating or having a good time. The atmosphere was dispiriting. The church was uncomfortably too hot from all the people there to pay their respects.
Cameron tried her best to not look so uneasy even though truthfully she didn’t want to be there. She didn’t know King well enough to mourn for him. And even if she did, she was sure she wouldn’t have liked him. There was always something about Jude’s boss that didn’t sit too well with Cameron. Needless to say, she was there for Jude. Now that King was dead her biased opinion held no weight.
After a few brief speeches were given at the podium, and a soulful rendition of Sam Cooke’s “A Change is Gonna Come” was performed, people filed out the massive church in order to head to the burial site.
Jude stopped abruptly when he saw Jag and Joaquin approach him. Both brothers wore black suits with black dress shirts and black ties underneath. They would’ve looked like twins had Joaquin not been wearing jeans as his bottoms.
Jude figured now was as good as time as any to introduce them to Cam. All three men exchanged manly handshakes before Jude directed the attention to his wife. “Cameron, this is Jag and his lil’ brother Joaquin,” he said.
Cameron gave both brothers a dry wave. She really didn’t want to be bothered. All she wanted to do was go home and put her sleeping son to bed. Cam still couldn’t believe Justin was able to take a nap through all the sobbing and grief.
Joaquin nodded his head towards Cam. Jag, on the hand, unintentionally found himself gazing at Cameron. She was one of the prettiest females he’d ever seen in his life—which is why he’d never forgotten her face.
A few years ago, Jag and Joaquin used to drive to Cleveland, Ohio to pick up work. The job was simple, the pay was good, and they needed the temporary breaks from home. During one particular evening, Jag had allowed Joaquin to convince him to hit a strip club. The Shakedown was their club of choice. Even though it was a hole in the wall, it housed some of the baddest chicks in the state. It was also the very place he’d met Cameron. Jag could still remember the drink he’d brought her: a Cherry Bomb. He was sure there wasn’t any liquor in it, but he let it go.
All it took was one lap dance to make “Hypnotic” stick to his brain like a tumor. He’d wanted her so bad back then. However, he figured he didn’t have a chance back then. He was just a kid, and still wet behind the ears.
Well, I’ll be damned, Jag thought. Small ass world.
Although the atmosphere was depressing, Cam had somehow managed to brighten up his day. His blue eyes wandered over her vibrant cinnamon-colored skin. Aside from the bruise on her head she was just as flawless as she was back then—even dressed in all black. Fortunately for Jag, Jude didn’t notice him gawking at his wife…but Joaquin did.
“Cam, Jag is gonna be keepin’ an eye on you and the house ‘til shit blows over,” Jude explained.
Jag and Cameron looked over at Jude simultaneously. This was news to them both.
“You mean he’s gonna be babysitting me?” Cameron asked with sarcasm in her tone. Her expression questioned if Jude had lost his mind.
“Cam, it’s only temporary…”
Cameron rolled her eyes at him and walked off before he could even finish his sentence. Being angry was an understatement. He had no right making those types of decisions without checking in with her first.
Jag shrugged. “Boss, no offense, but I’m way too qualified to be babysittin’ some chick.”
Jude looked angered and offended by Jag’s careless remark. “Some chick is my wife,” he reminded him.
Jag was just about to apologize for his loose tongue when King’s wife interrupted them. “Jude, thank you for coming,” Evelyn said in a weak tone. Mascara ran down her bronze cheeks. She wore a black pantsuit and black funeral hat. Her weary expression showed that she was emotionally drained.
Jude really felt for the woman. He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost Cam. Honestly, he didn’t think he’d be able to live. Pulling Evelyn into a comforting hug, Jude promised her everything would be okay. He also promised her that he’d take care of her and King’s daughter financially. That was the least he could do. It also seemed like the right thing to do. If the shoe were on the other foot Jude would expect the same.
On her way out the door, Cameron glanced over her shoulder at Jude. She shook her head then walked out the church. It wasn’t until Cam reached the parking lot that she remembered Jude had the car keys.
From the corner of her eye, Cam noticed Jag jogging towards her. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked sympathetically.
Cameron wondered if Jude had told him to check on her or if he’d came on his own accord. Either way, it didn’t really matter. “Just take me home,” Cameron answered smugly.
***
O’ Zone and Roxie enjoyed some outdoor dining at the Cheesecake Factory on Peachtree that afternoon. It should have been a moment for them to talk and catch up, but O’ Zone simply couldn’t stay off his cellphone. It was obvious that whoever he was texting held his interest more than Roxie did.
When the couple’s food arrived, and O’ Zone finally put his phone away, two random chicks flocked to their table. Apparently, his two beautiful fans didn’t care that he was on a date with his lady.
Wearing a frustrated look on her pretty face, Roxie kept silent as he gave them autographed napkins. It comes with the territory, she could hear him saying.
Fuck that, Roxie thought. It’s getting to the point where if I can’t have all of him, I don’t want any of him.
***
Flint walked hastily through the Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. Tiny beads of perspiration formed on his chocolate forehead. His heart thumped wildly inside his chest. He had no business being there, but he had to get away in order to save his sanity. He’d even ditched King’s funeral in mid-service to catch a last-minute flight.
Fuck it. Better to get ghost than to get caught up in some shit that could cost me my life, Flint rationalized.
Last night, Flint finally came to the conclusion that he was tired of being everyone’s puppet. At first King had him by the strings, and now Champion was fucking him without lubricant. Flint had gone over and beyond for Champion and he still hadn’t budged about letting him join his team. It seemed as if he couldn’t win for losing.
Now that King was buried six feet under, Flint was brave enough to leave the ring. Everyone in the business knew that there was no such thing as out. Once you were in you were in. The only way you got out was in a body bag.
Flint doubted Jude would send some people after him. He doubted that he’d even enforce the same rules as King. In Flint’s opinion, Jude was too soft to enforce any damn thing. But in case he did, Flint planned on being long gone by the time Jude discovered his absence. Flint didn’t give a damn about the money anymore, Elyse, or even his 3 year old daughter who lived in Decatur.
Flint automatically stopped in his tracks when he felt his left pocket vibrate. Pulling out his cellphone, he instantly became stone-faced after seeing Champion’s number. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.
Nerves on edge, Flint quickly took in his surroundings, expecting to see Champion’s face appear in the crowd of people.
“H—Hello?” Flint answered nervously. He did some elaborate throat clearing for good measure.
“You ain’t tell me you was plannin’ on takin’ a vacation,” Champion said in an eerily calm tone. Didn’t shit go on without him knowing about it.
Flint dropped his suitcase at his side, and released a sigh of frustration.
“All the big shit you was talkin’ in my office, and now you runnin’? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Trust me, Flint, you don’t wanna get on my bad side, patnah,” Champion warned him. “If I can’t trust you, I have no use for
you. And if I have no use for you…,” he paused. “Well, you know the rest.”
Champion disconnected the call, giving Flint something to think about it.
Fuck me, Flint cursed himself. Not only did Champion have people watching his sneaky ass, he was also forcing him to play ball or else.
11
Jag’s eyes darted back and forth between the road and the rearview mirror. Cameron sat silently in the backseat while holding her sleeping child. Her mind was heavy as she stared out the back window, lost in thought.
Jag was sure Jude would flip out if he knew he was checking his wife out. That was territory Jag shouldn’t have even been thinking about crossing. Yet he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Cameron had him mesmerized, and she didn’t even know it.
She doesn’t even remember me, Jag concluded. He couldn’t say he was all too surprised though. She’d probably met hundreds of guys during her profession.
Suddenly, Cameron’s gaze connected with his in the rearview mirror. Jag immediately looked away. He was slightly embarrassed that he’d been caught staring.
“So you originally from Georgia?” Jag asked. He decided to be the first to break the awkward silence inside his Porsche.
Cameron didn’t respond right away. For a minute Jag assumed she was going to flat out ignore him. Bad idea trying to make convo, I guess, he thought.
“Cleveland, Ohio,” Cameron murmured.
Jag nodded his head, but didn’t pry any further. For the remainder of the ride he kept silent.
Cameron didn’t open up her mouth again until they pulled into her driveway. “Thank you,” she said curtly before climbing out the sports car.
