by Jade Jones
“No prob,” Jag told her.
He watched in admiration as Cameron shuffled to the front door of her home. Although he knew better, he allowed his eyes to roam over her curves. She looked amazing in a long sleeve black knee-length dress. Considering the occasion, fantasizing a life with her should’ve been the last thing on his mind—but it was.
I wonder how shit would be if I would’ve said something back then, Jag wondered. Would she have given me the time of day? Would that be our kid she’s carrying in her arms? Would this be our house?
Jag’s questions ceased as soon as the front door closed behind Cameron.
“Who you kidding, man?” Jag asked himself. He knew that it was in his best interest to keep his eyes on the prize instead of Jude’s wife.
Meanwhile inside her home, Cameron placed Justin inside his tufted panel crib. She was physically and mentally exhausted. Frankly, enough was enough. Cam couldn’t wait until Jude returned so she could tell him she was ready to go back to Cleveland. The perfect life Cam envisioned for them had died the night Aso brutally raped her.
After tucking her son in, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. It was Cameron’s favorite room in the home. Dark wood cabinetry and flooring coupled with the white coffered ceilings gave the kitchen a sophisticated feel.
Cameron was just about to pour herself a drink when she stopped at the bay window. She was surprised to see Jag still parked in her driveway, sitting inside his car. Whether she wanted him to or not, he’d already agreed to be her overseer. It wasn’t the job Jag had in mind when he made the 13-hour drive to Atlanta. However, as long as he was getting paid he’d take any responsibility.
Cameron mulled over the idea of inviting him inside. She didn’t know him like that, but if Jude trusted him enough to watch over her and Justin she didn’t see any harm in it.
Jag was keeping himself preoccupied with a grueling round of Candy Crush when Cameron tapped on his car window.
Jag tossed his phone in his lap, and rolled the window down. He looked surprised to see her standing outside his car.
“You wanna come in, and have a beer or something?” Cameron asked. It was the least she could do for him.
***
Wind blew through Roxie’s ombre shoulder length hair as she cruised along Peachtree Street North East in her white Audi R8. It was a birthday present from O’ Zone for her twentieth birthday.
As Roxie approached a red light at an intersection, she reached over and lowered the volume to her Jhené Aiko CD. She was on her way to Phipps Plaza when she realized it had been four days since she spoke with Rumor.
Roxie pulled out her iPhone, and searched for her sister’s number. Pressing the phone against her ear, she prayed for an answer because she was starting to get worried. Roxie sighed dismally after being sent straight to voicemail. The line didn’t even ring once. Assuming Rumor had blocked her incoming calls she hung up the phone with an attitude.
All she wanted to do was rekindle the bond with her older sister. Yet Rumor was giving her the cold shoulder. “Fuck it,” Roxie spat.
***
Cameron and Jag quickly lost track of time as they sipped and conversed about everything under the sun. Slightly tipsy after his third beer, Jag was cursed with a loose tongue. He wound up telling Cam all about Matteo, his deceased brother, and even about Joaquin’s dangerous blackouts.
“Has he ever thought about getting help for that?” Cameron asked. She was on her second glass of red wine, and feeling increasingly mellow.
“Our mother spent thousands on therapy and anger management group sessions,” Jag told her. “Nothin’ worked. Ma called it the Campioni curse ‘cuz Matteo was known for his violent temper. Same with his father…,” Jag allowed his voice to trail off.
“What is it?” Cameron asked him.
Jag shook his head. “When I start drinkin’ I begin babbling.”
Cameron laughed. “It’s actually comforting,” she admitted. “It’s keeping my mind off…,” she paused. “Other shit.”
Jag looked over at Cameron with glassy eyes. He couldn’t tell if she was content or sad. She was very hard to read.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cam asked. They both sat behind the kitchen island in red barstools.
“I’ve already been runnin’ my mouth way too much,” Jag said. “I really shouldn’t say what’s on my mind.”
Cameron was confused. She was just about to ask him what he meant when Jude appeared inside the spacious kitchen. His black Armani suit reeked of marijuana, and he looked tired. “We need to talk, Cam,” Jude said.
Cameron became irritated all over again at the very sight of him. Without responding, she climbed off the barstool and walked right past Jude.
Jag would have to be blind to not see the tension between the couple. “Uh…maybe I should slide,” he said, standing to his feet.
Jude stopped Jag on his way out the kitchen. “Yo, you need anything. You and ya bro’ good?” he asked.
“Yeah, we straight for now,” Jag answered. “Good lookin’ though.”
“After I get everything in order, I’ma find you and Joaquin a spot,” Jude promised. For the time being they were staying at The Georgian Terrace Hotel.
Jag and Jude exchanged dap. “Handle ya business, boss,” Jag said.
Jude walked his young employee to the front door. “I need you to be here in the morning,” he told Jag. “When I’m out handlin’ business you should be here. I want you to look after Cam and Justin as if they were your own family. Can you handle that task, bruh?”
I can handle more than that, Jag thought. “I gotcha,” he said instead.
12
Once he saw Jag out safely, Jude headed upstairs to confront his wife. He found Cameron inside their master bedroom. “Aye, what is yo’ problem?!” he barked. His loud, deep voice bounced off the high ceilings.
“You are!” Cameron rounded on him. “I’m sick of you making decisions without me! We’re supposed to be a team! That’s why we got married!”
“What the fuck you want me to do, Cam?!” Jude yelled. “I’m tryin’ to do everything I can—”
“Give the responsibility to someone else!” Cam cut him off. “Jude, I told you in Greece I ain’t want shit to do with this!” Tears cascaded down her cheek, and caused her mascara to run. “Let’s just leave all this behind and go back to Cleveland—”
“What the hell is in Cleveland, Cam?” Jude asked. “Do we gotta house in Cleveland? Do I gotta job out there? Cam, why can’t you see this is a for sure thing? We livin’ good!”
Cameron shook her head in disappointment. “You’re changing, Jude,” she said. “You promised before we moved out here that you wouldn’t lose yourself.”
“Nah. You did though,” Jude reminded her. He’d purposely brought up O’ Zone without having to mention his name.
Cameron scoffed. That was a low blow, she thought. “Fine,” she told him. “You want this life? Have this shit.” With that said she headed to the walk-in closet and grabbed her suitcase.
“Where you going?” Jude demanded to know.
Cameron emerged from the closet, and tossed the empty suitcase on the king size bed. “Look, it’s either gon’ be me or this business!” she screamed. Tears rolled off her chin and plummeted to the floor.
Jude looked defeated. “Please, Cameron,” he said. “Don’t make me choose…”
Cameron wiped her tears away. “You shouldn’t have to,” she said in a broken voice.
“Why you tryin’ to change a nigga, Cam?! This is me! And this is what it’s gon’ be! You ain’t tryin’ to ride with me, then cool. But I ain’t goin’ back to where we were!” Jude expressed. “We’re here—right now—‘cuz we supposed to be! I’m runnin’ this business ‘cuz I’m supposed to be! I’m not quittin’! I’m not givin’ this shit up! I’m sorry, Cam. I can’t do that.”
Cameron was stunned by his response. Usually he let her have her way, but he wasn’t budging with h
is decision to stay.
“Look, I can understand if you ain’t tryin’ to hold me down with this shit. I ain’t gon’ hate you if you decide to bounce. You deserve to have what you want…but right now I can’t give you that, bay,” Jude explained. “But I’m hopin’ you’ll stay…’cuz let’s face it...I ain’t shit without you, Cam.”
Cameron looked down at the suitcase which symbolized their marriage’s fate. She had the power to decide if she wanted to stay or go. Is it worth it, she asked herself.
Barely above a whisper, Cam said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jude walked up to Cameron, and tucked her short hair behind her ear. Her hair was no longer blonde, but instead her natural brown. It stopped just inches above her shoulder. She’d damn near hacked it all off a few months ago. Thanks to her mother, who was half-Caucasian, her hair grew back incredibly fast.
Jude leaned down and kissed Cameron’s forehead. He then pulled her close to him. “With Jerrell gone, you the only one I know will have my back for sure,” he said in a low tone. “Ain’t no runnin’ from this shit, Cam.”
“I know…,” Cameron whispered. “I know.”
Jude leaned down and kissed her tears. He then closed his mouth over hers. Cam would never know how much he really needed the reassurance. They were all each other had.
A soft moan escaped from Cameron after Jude’s tongue parted her lips. The salty remnants of tears rested on her taste buds. Cam didn’t notice or care as she wrapped her arms around Jude’s neck. Her fingers ran over his soft haircut while they kissed.
“I gotta get used to you not having dreads,” Cameron said once they parted.
Jude pulled her hand towards his mouth and kissed her palm. “I really love you, Cam. You know that shit, right?”
Cameron nodded her head, gazing into his brown eyes.
Jude slowly backed Cameron against the bed until she had no choice but to topple on the mattress. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, Jude gradually climbed on top Cameron. Closing her eyes, she bit her bottom lip and enjoyed the feel of his strong hands gliding along her legs. She lifted up a little to assist him with removing her striped lace panties. Taking his time, Jude eased them down her smooth, golden legs before casually tossing them to the cream carpet.
Cameron tried to contain herself when he began placing soft, delicate kisses along her foot. When he reached her toes, he slipped them inside his mouth. Swirling his tongue around each digit, Jude savored the taste of her flesh.
Cameron eagerly freed her C-cup breasts so that he could palm them. When sucking her toes wasn’t enough for him, he dove face first between her legs, burying his face in her wet pussy.
Cameron’s back arched as his warm tongue dipped in and out her slit. “Ooohh!” she bellowed in pleasure.
Jude’s tongue wiggled like an ocean’s wave against her swollen clit. He was an expert when it came to satisfying his wife in the bedroom. Over the couple years they’d been together, he’d quickly learned everything that drove her nuts in the bedroom. “This better be my fuckin’ pussy, Cam. I swear.”
Cameron’s fingernails dug into his hair, as he licked and sucked for dear life. “It’s yours,” she whimpered. When Cam finally felt a powerful climax approaching she wrapped her legs tighter around him.
“JUDE!” Cameron cried out. Shivers ran along her body before settling in the tips of her toes.
After delicately kissing each pussy lip, he climbed next to her and lay down. He wasn’t concerned that he didn’t get
his. For the moment, all he wanted was to do was please Cam, and take her mind off the stress.
Panting heavily, Cameron stared up at the ceiling. Her black dress was bunched around her waist, and her breasts spilled over her matching Victoria Secret bra.
“Jude?” Cameron began.
He turned over and draped his arm over her torso. “Yeah?”
“What were you doing with Rumor the other night?” she asked. “I saw you two leave together in her car. I’ve been putting off asking you…but I really do need to know what’s up. I deserve to know.”
Jude didn’t answer right away. His mind drifted back to that daunting night. He didn’t believe Cameron could handle the truth. Instead of offering her honesty, Jude said, “Rumor came over a couple nights ago while you were sleep. She had a bunch of bruises on her, and she looked like she’d been cryin’. I offered to talk to Calix, and that was that.”
Cameron propped her elbow up, and rested her head in her hand. “Oh really?” she asked with a doubtful look. “Is that that?”
“I swear on everything that’s all it was,” Jude assured her.
Cameron believed him for the time being because he’d never given her a reason not to trust him. “Well, she isn’t answering her phone,” she told Jude. “I even dropped by her house and she wasn’t there.”
“Maybe she needed to get away for a little while,” he suggested. “Shit, a person can only stand so much. Ya dig?”
13
Future’s “Honest” pumped through the massive speakers inside Blue Flame Lounge. The small strip club was located fifteen minutes from the heart of downtown Atlanta. The premier gentlemen lounge was the first black adult entertainment club in Atlanta, and also employed some of the finest women in its city.
Jag followed Joaquin through the cramped club. As usual, he’d allowed his younger brother to drag him into the provocative world of adult entertainment. Truth be told, Jag wasn’t really the ‘strip-club type’. A simple kick-back and a few chicks would suffice for him.
Both brothers took a seat near the stage. The lounge’s lighting was dim, and it seemed like the only illumination came from flashing colorful lights. Singles littered the stage and floor as dancers showed off their best acrobatic pole tricks.
Joaquin looked over at Jag, and noticed he wasn’t really digging the scene. “What’chu over there daydreamin’ ‘bout?” he asked. “You look like you got somethin’—or someone—on ya mind.”
Jag took a sip of his beer. “I’m straight. Just chillin’. Enjoyin’ the show,” he answered casually.
Joaquin sucked his teeth. He saw right through his brother. “Man, keep it real. You ain’t slick, bro’. I saw the way you was droolin’ over ole’ boy’s wife. Shit, you was eyeballin’ the bitch like you already hit,” he teased. “Is it something I should know?”
Jag chuckled and shook his head.
Joaquin was just about to dig deeper when two beautiful women approached them.
“Ya’ll look like ya’ll need some company,” the dark-skinned one spoke first.
A curvaceous white female plopped into Jag’s lap. “I’m Lark,” she told him.
“And I’m Roxie,” the other introduced herself.
Lark was both gorgeous and exotic with her Baltic features and hourglass figure. Her sleek black hair had a red ombre, and the entire left side of her body was tatted. She pulled the sexy goth look off well. Lark immediately reminded Jag of actress Mila Kunis.
“I’m not really the lap dance type of dude,” Jag spoke up. Although Lark was breathtaking, he wasn’t really digging her or the environment. His mind was still on Cameron; had been ever since he’d left her home.
Why do I keep thinking about this broad, Jag asked himself. It’s not like she ain’t already married. I don’t stand a damn chance.
Jag then remembered that Cameron’s husband was now his boss. He knew that he had to tread a very thin line when it came to her. How am I gonna contain myself when I’m around her, he wondered.
Jag couldn’t deny his physical attraction towards her. However, there was also something else that had drawn him to Cameron. What exactly it was, he was still figuring out.
Stay focused. You ain’t got time for slip ups, Jag reminded himself. Don’t forget ma and Alessia are counting on us.
“The dance is on me.” Joaquin’s voice interrupted Jag’s forbidden thoughts. “Go ‘head and do ya thing, ma,” he told Lark.
Jag looked ove
r at Joaquin and grimaced.
Joaquin shrugged and took a sip of his beer. He figured Lark was far more attainable than Cameron. Roxie made herself comfortable in Joaquin’s lap while Lark and Jag did their thing.
I keep a gang of bad bitches with me too…
And we ain’t never going back to what we used to do…
I was gon lie to you but I had to tell the truth…
I’m just being honest…
Joaquin ran his tattooed hands along Roxie’s soft chocolate skin. One common stereotype true of Italian men were that they loved black women.
“Tell me, what I gotta do to leave a lastin’ impression on you?” Joaquin asked Roxie. In his opinion, she was the baddest chick inside Blue Flame. Naturally a flirt, he was always trying his hand whenever the opportunity presented itself. Yet there was something about Roxie that made him instantly smitten with her beauty.
Roxie smiled, revealing her deep set of dimples. “Well…you can start off buying a lap dance.”
Joaquin pushed his luck by asking for her number after she finished her lap dance. It felt like the song wasn’t long enough, but who was he to complain?
“What’s up with that seven?” Joaquin asked. It didn’t matter to him that she was in her place of business. She probably met dozens of men throughout the week. Yet he was adamant about making himself memorable.
Roxie glanced over Joaquin’s shoulder and noticed O’ Zone walking in. A couple security guards accompanied him. O’ Zone looked like a star in a Maison Martin Margiela tee, charcoal John Varvatos jeans, and Lanvin sneakers. Shielding his eyes was a pair of Tom Ford sunglasses. As usual, O’ Zone was draped in expensive jewelry. Anywhere he went he had to make a fashion statement.
“No offense,” Roxie began, climbing off Joaquin’s lap. “But let’s face it. I’m a lil’ out of your league.”
Ouch. Talk about harsh, Joaquin thought. Did she really just try to shit on me though? His pride felt like it had been stepped on, but he would never tell her that.
