Cameron 5

by Jade Jones

  “Jag—”

  Cameron’s sentence was cut short by the doorbell ringing. Jag immediately grabbed his piece and stood to his feet.

  “You ain’t expectin’ company are you?” he asked.

  Cameron looked just as apprehensive as he did. “It’s two in the morning. Of course not.”

  “Stay here,” Jag demanded. Fearlessly, he made his way to the front door. When he reached it, he peered through the peephole. The .45 was clutched tightly in his right hand. Surprisingly, there was no one on the opposite end. Someone was obviously fucking with them.

  “Who is it?” Cameron asked from behind him.

  Jag glimpsed over his shoulder. “I thought I told you to stay in the den.”

  “You’ll find out really quick I’m hard-headed.”

  Jag looked out the peephole again. “I can see that. But there’s nobody out here.”

  “Of all the shit people could do on a Friday night, they choose to play Ding Dong Ditch?”

  Jag carefully unlocked the front door and opened it. After taking in his surroundings, he noticed a single red rose lying on the doorstep. Bending down, he retrieved the lone rose and turned to Cam. “Looks like somebody might gotta secret admirer.”

  16

  Jude and Joaquin were preparing to leave when Jude suddenly had the urge to urinate. Three beers and two shots could definitely do that a person. Stepping inside the men’s public restroom, the strong scent of piss filled his nostrils. Inebriation caused him to barely notice the foul odor.

  Jude made his way to the nearest empty urinal which was decorated with several cigarette butts. There was only one other person inside the restroom, standing with his back turned to Jude. Slightly tipsy, he didn’t notice that it was the one and only O’ Zone.

  Without care, Jude unzipped his jeans and handled his business. One urinal stood in the way of both men. As soon as Jude’s urine splashed against the porcelain, O’ Zone absentmindedly looked in his direction. He did an automatic double take the moment he recognized Jude.

  O’ Zone smirked and shook his head at the irony. Well, I’ll be damned. He’d planned on showing Jude’s photo to his goons and having them deal with him. However, now that they were all alone inside the restroom O’ Zone felt the need to fuck with him; especially with the liquid courage running through his bloodstream.

  “I’m surprised you ain’t got ya gang of boys with you. Holdin’ ya hand and shit while you take a piss,” O’ Zone slurred. He was drunker than an alcoholic during the holidays.

  Jude slowly looked over at O’ Zone. After recognizing him as the man who’d fucked his wife, he shook his head. “Nigga, fuck off,” he said nonchalantly. I already dealt with ya ass. You lost that one, remember?”

  O’ Zone ignored Jude. “You slippin’, bruh. What’s up? It’s just us now. What’s happenin’?” he pressed on.

  It was obvious that O’ Zone was looking for a brawl. It didn’t matter that he was standing over a urinal with his dick in his hands. He’d dreamt about getting back at Jude, and now they were finally alone. There was no mass of men to surround them and intimidate O’ Zone; just the two of them inside the strip club’s restroom.

  Jude ignored O’ Zone’s frivolous remark. He didn’t have time for the man’s immaturity. Anything Jude had to prove, he’d already done so the night they fought in the parking lot. After shaking twice, he zipped up his jeans. Since he’d already kicked O’ Zone’s ass once, he didn’t feel like stooping to the arrogant man’s level. At the end of the day, Cameron was his; and there wasn’t a motherfucker alive who could separate what they had.

  Enraged that Jude wasn’t responding to his ignorance, O’ Zone aimed his stream of urine at his Giuseppe sneakers. For a few seconds, Jude simply stood there and allowed the upcoming artist to blatantly disrespect him. He was in shock that the son of a bitch actually had enough balls to do something so disgusting and over the top.

  Did this mothafucka just really piss on my kicks, Jude asked himself. He was still in disbelief as he stood at the urinal.

  When there was nothing else left, O’ Zone stuffed his dick back inside his jeans and smiled devilishly. “You’s a fuck boy, nigga. You wasn’t even man enough to step to me on ya own,” he said. “Now I see why ya bitch chose a nigga like me.”

  All of a sudden, Jude snapped! Outraged and offended, he charged O’ Zone and tackled him to the dirty tiled floor. Together both men landed with a solid thud. Before O’ Zone could defend himself, Jude released blow after devastating blow to his face.

  Somehow, in the midst of being attacked, O’ Zone was able to shove Jude off. He quickly staggered to his feet with a bloodied mouth and nose. Together they wrestled inside the men’s restroom, determined to overpower the other.

  O’ Zone managed to get a few good hits in, but his damage wasn’t anywhere near close to Jude’s. While tussling on the slippery floor, O’ Zone accidentally slid on his own puddle of urine and fell.

  Adding insult to injury, he was now covered in his own piss and blood. Jude, however, showed no mercy as he kicked and stomped the man who’d openly disrespected him.

  “Yeah, nigga! Talk that shit now!” Jude yelled.

  He didn’t let up until he finally ran out of energy. His chest rose and fell heavily as he watched O’ Zone groan in pain. Once again he’d managed to gain the upper hand on the loud-mouth rapper.

  “The next time you mention my wife—or even think about her—I’ma fuckin’ kill you, dawg!” Jude threatened. He could barely breathe normal after the grueling fight, but he’d definitely made sure to get his point across. “That’s ya second fuckin’ warnin’, bruh. Next time there won’t be one.” After wiping the blood off his bottom lip, Jude exited the restroom.

  ***

  “I fucked up last night, man,” Jag told Joaquin the following morning. Both brothers sat at the kitchen island as their mother prepared breakfast: polenta with honey, oatmeal and toast.

  Anzia Campioni immediately scolded her son in Italian about his foul language. Regardless of how unconventional her family was she still expected respect.

  “What’d you do?” Joaquin asked.

  Jag sighed deeply and ran a hand over his jet black hair. “I came onto Cam last night for the first time,” he confessed. He was pretty disappointed in himself for talking without thinking.

  Joaquin almost spit out the orange juice he drank. He instantly broke into a fit of laughter. “Dope shitaki, bro!” he exclaimed. “Way to finally speak ya mind.”

  Joaquin’s sarcasm flew right over Jag’s head. “There’s nothing dope about diggin’ my boss’ wife.”

  Joaquin cackled. “This is gonna be better than all the reality shows in Atlanta combined.”

  “Nothin’ happened. I didn’t overstep my boundaries too bad.” Jag stressed. “Plus it looks like I ain’t her only fan. Last night some clown rang the doorbell and left a rose on the doorstep.”

  “Aww. How sweet,” Alessia chimed in. They hadn’t even heard their little sister enter the kitchen. A freshman in high school, she was only fourteen going on forty.

  Jag and Joaquin cut their eyes at Alessia. Although she was a spitting image of their mother, she’d inherited Matteo’s dark hair and ivory skin.

  “Get back to reading Hunger Games and stay outta grown folk’s business.” Joaquin said it not disparagingly, but affectionately rather.

  That didn’t stop Alessia from catching an attitude. Sucking her teeth, she stomped off like a typical teenager.

  “Well, how you know the rose was for her?” Joaquin asked, redirecting his attention to Jag. “How you know it wasn’t for Jude?”

  Jag didn’t reply. That possibility actually hadn’t crossed his mind.

  ***

  That afternoon Cam, Jag, and Justin walked through Atlantic station to do a little shopping and sight-seeing. They were just about to walk in H&M when Lark walked out with her female friend.

  “Hey, what’s up,” Jag greeted, recognizing her almo
st immediately.

  Cameron and Justin headed inside the department store so that Jag could have his privacy. Protecting her eventually turned into chaperoning her, but he didn’t mind. His job was easy, the pay was excellent, and he enjoyed spending time with Cam. It couldn’t get much better than that.

  Lark smiled, revealing a deep set of dimples. She pulled the sexy Goth look off well, wearing dark lipstick and a black skirt with a jean jacket. On her size seven feet were a pair of black studded toe Louboutin riding boots.

  “Jaguar, right?” Lark asked.

  Her girlfriend made herself scarce so that she wouldn’t seem like the imposing third wheel.

  “Damn. I’m surprised you remembered,” Jag said.

  Lark grinned. “How could I forget a name like Jaguar?”

  “We gotta get going if we wanna beat the crowds,” Lark’s friend interrupted.

  Jag had completely forgotten that it was Black Friday; which was why Cameron had dragged him all over the city to shop for awesome deals.

  “Is that your girl?” Lark asked, ignoring her friend.

  “Cam? Nah, just a good friend,” Jag clarified, even though in his mind he wished it were more.

  “So she’s not gonna be trippin’ if I give you my number, right?”

  “Of course not,” Jag chuckled.

  Lark held her hand out for his cellphone. After he handed it to her, she punched in her number and handed it back. “Hit me up sometime,” she told him before walking off.

  When Jag walked inside the clothing store, he found Cameron in the jeans section. “I see you made a lil’ friend,” she teased.

  “Yeah. She straight,” Jag said nonchalantly. “Gave me her number.”

  Cameron shrugged. “You should go for it,” she said. “Don’t let babysitting me get in the way of your love life. Besides…she was kinda cute…”

  Truth be told, Jag had no intentions of hitting up Lark. He was currently in the presence of the only woman he wanted—even though she was married to his boss.

  After Jag, Cam, and Justin left H&M they headed over to Kilwin’s for ice cream. “I still don’t get why you didn’t want me to tell Jude about the rose,” Cameron told Jag.

  “You don’t need to because I can handle it,” Jag said. ”Why do you think I’m here? ‘Cuz Jude felt I could protect you…and I can.” In reality, he relished the thought of being her Superman. Truthfully, he yearned to take over Jude’s role completely.

  ***

  DJ Khaled’s “I Wanna Be With You” played on maximum as Jude and his camp filed through a crowded Compound. It was an all-black event that night, and it seemed like the entire Atlanta metropolitan was crammed inside the establishment.

  Jude dapped up a couple guys he recognized from selling cars and custom rims to for the low. Slowly but surely he was building a reputation that would’ve made both King and Jerrell proud.

  A few females assumed Jude was a celebrity because of his wardrobe and the fact that he’d came deep. Sporting a black Givenchy tee, exclusive Louboutin sneakers, and custom-made jewelry it was obvious that Jude wanted the world to know and acknowledge that he was a boss.

  He and his crew outshined the actual celebrities in the building. In silence, they made their way to the reserved VIP table in the back. By the time they got comfortable a waitress brought them over the most expensive bottle of champagne they could offer.

  A few women flocked to Jude’s VIP section like fish to bait. Although he loved the attention, Jude never had any intentions to disrespect Cameron or their marriage. He also expected the same in return. However, what Jude didn’t expect was an unknown cat swaggering inside his VIP area. The mysterious man was followed by a small gang of goons.

  “Well, if it ain’t the infamous Jude. I been hearin’ a lot about you, bruh.” Champion smiled, revealing a bottom gold grill. “You look a lot different than I imagined. What you is? Twenty-one? Twenty-two?”

  Jude’s jaw muscle tensed in irritation. He was tired of motherfuckers trying him because of his age.

  “Yo, who the fuck is this cat?” Joaquin asked with an attitude. He was itching to put his foot in Champion’s arrogant ass.

  Looking Joaquin dead in the eyes, Champion calmly replied, “I could be the mothafucka to end ya life.”

  Axel immediately stepped forward, but Jude stopped him. At the same time, one of Champion’s goons reached for his piece. Champion quickly held his hand up to cease. One wrong move could’ve ended in a deadly shoot out inside the popular nightclub. Thankfully, both chiefs deescalated the situation before anything fatal occurred.

  “So I see you know me, but I still don’t know who the fuck you are,” Jude said. He remained seated. He didn’t feel as though Champion deserved enough respect for him to stand up and shake his hand. After all, he’d barged inside his VIP without an invite or introduction.

  A sneaky grin rested on Champion’s thick lips. Jude’s cockiness instantly reminded him of King. It was also one of the reasons he’d taken him out of the game. “Oh, my bad. Where’s my manners? I’m known as Champion.” He introduced himself with both confidence and authority.

  Jude shrugged. “Aight. I know ya name. Now why you and ya boys invadin’ my space?”

  Champion chuckled in amusement. He couldn’t tell if Jude was flexing for the females or showing out for his boys. Either way, he planned on putting the young dude in place.

  “You don’t know me. And that’s cool. I can dig that,” Champion said. “You obviously have no idea who you dealin’ with so I won’t hold ya ignorance against you.”

  Joaquin slyly looked over at Flint. He stood off to the side wearing a nervous expression. Joaquin could tell that he didn’t want to be there. It was something about Flint that didn’t sit too well with him, and he was determined to figure out what.

  I don’t trust that sneaky motherfucker, he thought. Joaquin made a mental note to holler at Jude about him.

  “I’ve been watching you for a few weeks now,” Champion continued. “Studyin’ how you work. Observin’ how you move…I honestly feel like you could be an asset to me.”

  “Asset?!” Jude repeated skeptically.

  “I think it can benefit the both of us if we merged.”

  Jude and a few of his boys broke out laughing. “Nigga, we eatin’. Why should we change anything we doin’ to benefit you?” he asked Champion. “I’m runnin’ this operation the same way King did. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.”

  Champion scoffed. He then clasped his hands together in front of him. “And it’d be a shame if you went out just like him…”

  Champion’s comment immediately wiped the smirk off Jude’s face. He knew right then that he was staring into the eyes of King’s killer. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as an uneasy feeling took over him. Suddenly, his attitude wasn’t as cavalier as it was two minutes ago.

  Jude gradually stood to his feet. He wore a humorless expression on his handsome face. He definitely wasn’t one to intimidate easily. Yet there was something heinous in Champion’s eyes that made him uncomfortable.

  “And what if I decline ya proposition?” Jude asked, standing his ground.

  Champion smirked. “Hell, then I eliminate the competition. Simple as that,” he answered nonchalantly. He spoke as if taking a life was no big deal—and to him it wasn’t, especially since he paid for other people to handle those problems.

  Although Jude didn’t take too kindly to Champion’s threat, he remained silent.

  “Think about it. You got two weeks.” Champion was being extremely gracious with the time-frame. He figured that would be more than enough time for Jude to make his ultimate decision. “I’ll be in touch.” With that said, he and his boys left Jude’s VIP room, giving him something to think about.

  Joaquin sucked his teeth. “Man, I bet that mothafucka all talk,” he said. “Just gimme the word and I’ll handle him. Fuck what he hollin’ ‘bout.”

  Jude looked over at his young, eager protég�
�e. “Yo, you wasn’t on that yacht, bruh…,” he told him. All of a sudden, Jude’s nerves were on edge. He could smell the gunpowder just thinking about that dreadful afternoon. Once again, Jude was stuck between a rock and a hard place. “I need a drink real quick. I’ll be back.”

  Jude departed the VIP area before Joaquin could remind him that they had a bottle. It didn’t matter anyway, because Jude needed something far stronger than champagne. When he finally reached the bar, he ordered a double of Hen and Coke. As he sipped on the dark liquor, he noticed a familiar face from the corner of his eye.

  Damn. Tonight just ain’t my night, he said to himself.

  Releasing a sigh of frustration, Jude stood his feet and walked over to Ericka.

  17

  Jude barely recognized Ericka with her usually curly hair pressed straight. She wore a lace halter dress that hugged her slender yet curvy frame. On her pedicured feet was a pair of Alexander Wang sling back pumps. To be a nutcase, Jude couldn’t deny that she was just as sexy as the day they’d met. Unfortunately, he wasn’t approaching Ericka to pay her a compliment.

  She offered a pearly white grin when he finally reached her. So I take it he got my poem and rose.

  Ericka was just about to greet Jude when he unexpectedly wrapped his hand around her throat. Due to the thick crowd and loud music, no one noticed the altercation right away.

  “Lemme tell you some shit, Ericka. I really ain’t havin’ a good night right now.” Jude hissed. “And you the last mothafucka I’m tryin’ to see. So do yourself a favor, pack up, and go back to Cleveland. I don’t wanna have to hurt you…but you really fuckin’ testin’ me, yo.”

  Ericka’s face puffed up, and her cheeks flushed a bright red. “So this is what it takes to get you to touch me?” she struggled to say.

  Jude loosened his grip but didn’t remove his hold. “I ain’t that nice nigga no mo’,” he said through clenched teeth. “I won’t hesitate to kill you if you come near my family.” He saw the glint of fear in Ericka’s eyes. He was certain that she knew he wasn’t fucking around.