On the Run with Love

by J. M. Benjamin

  “No!” the little brat yelled.

  “I’ma kick yo’ ass,” Slug told him, really wishing he could.

  “I’ma kick yo’ ass,” Chris replied, and kicked Slug again.

  Slug shoved him, not hard but hard enough, and Chris screamed, “Mama, he hit me! I’ma tell my daddy!” He ran to his mother for safety because he could tell Slug was mad.

  “Fuck yo’ punk-ass daddy! Tell that nigga suck my dick!” Slug yelled back.

  Kiki came into the living room carrying Chris on a curvaceous hip. She was dressed like the average hood rat: tight spandex dress and open-toed heels from the Shoe Barn, extension braids dyed at the tips and pinned up in a bun. But she was still a real cutie. She was a redbone with light brown eyes and was bowlegged as hell. Her only flaw was a chipped tooth that she got while fighting, which she loved to do, especially with Slug.

  “Boy, I know you ain’t put your hands on my baby! He ain’t none of your chile!” Kiki said, rolling her neck.

  “I know he ain’t,” Slug said, cracking the top on a bottle of E&J. “Dat’s why I’ma beat his ass he keep fuckin’ wit’ me.”

  Kiki rolled her eyes at Slug and kissed Chris. “Don’t worry, boo. He just mean,” she said. She shot Slug a look.

  “I’ma tell my daddy.” Chris played the moment through crocodile tears.

  “No, no, don’t tell your daddy,” Kiki quickly stated. Neither she nor Slug wanted to see her baby daddy fucked up behind something so petty.

  “Shit, let him tell him. I’ll tell his bitch ass,” Slug boasted, serious as a heart attack. “Girl, just bring yo’ ass on ’fore I leave you.”

  “Let me take Chris next door and I’ll be ready, ol’ mannish ass,” Kiki huffed and left to take Chris to her mother’s.

  Slug shook his head. It was a damn shame when daughter, mother, and grandmother all lived in the projects. It was like blacks were trapped in a game they didn’t know was being played. He stood up and left, locking the door behind him.

  “Okay, Ma, damn, I heard you!” Kiki said as she slammed the door angrily. Slug was already outside. “You ready?” she snapped and stormed past him to the car. “Bitch make me sick. But let it be the third and she got her nose all up my ass,” she mumbled to herself.

  Slug chuckled.

  “Fuck you laughin’ at, Slug? It ain’t funny!”

  “Man, shut yo’ ass up and get in the damn car,” Slug replied smoothly.

  Freddie and Simone sat in the back seat giggling to themselves, listening to the lovers’ quarrel. Kiki opened the front door and the inside light came on. Then she ducked her head down because she damn near drooled. But it happened so quick, no one noticed except Simone. She had just nutted on herself at the sight of Freddie.

  “Hey,” she said, surprised.

  Slug closed his door. “That’s my cousin, Freddie, and his wifey, Simone. Y’all, this Kiki.”

  “Hello,” Simone said politely.

  Kiki flashed a forced smile.

  “What da deal, ma?” Freddie greeted her. His accent tickled Kiki’s ears.

  “So where we goin’?” Kiki asked, cutting her eye at Freddie in the dark car.

  “Pop Bogan’s,” Slug replied.

  Pop Bogan’s was the ghetto hangout for the ballers in the Boro. It was a club/ restaurant / pool hall. Only the livest came through because the wannabes got clowned, and Slug was definitely among the live crew of his city.

  The spot was flooded when they arrived, as he had expected. “I’m about to show you how we do it down here, cuzzo.” He flung his arm around Freddie’s neck as a bouncer ushered them inside.

  Freddie cut his eyes over at his cousin. “Whatever you say, cuz.” He really didn’t care one way or another; his mind was elsewhere. For him, it was no vacation or party mode. Had it not been for the altercation he had gotten sucked into back home, he knew he wouldn’t even be in the South at all. He looked back at Simone, who walked along side Kiki, trailing behind him and Slug.

  “You good?” he mouthed.

  Simone read his lips. She smiled and nodded. That put Freddie a little at ease.

  “Girl, bring yo’ slow ass on.” Slug stopped abruptly and turned, directing his words to his shorty.

  “Don’t rush me!” Kiki rolled her eyes. “And don’t be trying to play me out here either,” she added as she looked around. She saw a few haters in the long-ass line snicker while waiting to get in. “You gon’ fuck around and get one of these bitches fucked up out here thinkin’ they can talk to me like,” she spat, never taking her eyes off of the three girls.

  “Man, just come on. Fuck dem hoes.” Slug hooked her by the arm.

  His words made her smile as she now rolled her eyes at the hoes Slug was referring to.

  Freddie followed suit and drew Simone closer to him, as the two joined in a light laughter.

  Although he had been in the state when he was a young buck, he knew it was going to take some getting used to the South again, especially since he had Simone with him. He figured tonight would be as good a time as any.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Slug pulled his Caddy into the parking lot between a candy apple ’64 and a Benz G wagon. Freddie glanced out the window at all the sick whips and niggas blingin’. He promised himself he’d step his game up. Doing what? He didn’t know. But he was too used to ballin’ to be outshined by these country niggas.

  Once he stepped inside, though, the tables turned and he outshined them all. Trick Daddy’s “Thug Holiday” blared in the background, and everyone was doing their own thing. But when Freddie came through, he got the eye of damn near every female and the grill of mad hating-ass niggas.

  “Who that? Ginuwine?” he heard one girl inquire to the crowd of lovelies surrounding her.

  “Shit, Ginuwine wish he looked that fine!” he caught another reply.

  Seeing as how Simone was in the building, he kept a stone face out of respect, but on the inside, he laughed, feeling himself. Simone had never seen the reaction women had over him up close and personal but he was used to it.

  Kiki was so not feeling Simone at the moment, the way she was holding on to Freddie’s arm, head held high. Simone had niggas sweatin’ her on the DL, but since she was with Freddie, and Freddie was with Slug, they checked their tongues.

  The four of them caught a corner booth and slid in, keeping the girls next to each other in the middle. It wasn’t long before a flood of familiar faces Freddie hadn’t seen in years came through. Amp, Cee Jay, and Scoob all came to welcome Freddie back. Freddie could tell they were all doing well and that they hadn’t changed a bit. Scoob was still sneaky and treacherous, Amp was blingin’, and he could tell Cee Jay was playing, but not as hard as him.

  The females itched to come check out the new face, but they saw Simone sitting next to Kiki, and they didn’t know if she was Kiki’s people. None of them really wanted problems with Kiki, so they just slithered by, asses out and eyes dancing, trying to send Freddie all kinds of messages. Simone didn’t miss a beat. She watched them with one eye and Freddie with the other. She had forgiven her man but she hadn’t forgotten. Freddie appeared to be taking it all in stride, laughing with the fellas and eating from the shrimp platter they had ordered.

  The only female Simone didn’t see was to her left: Kiki.

  But Slug saw her. He wasn’t sure at first, because every time he looked at Kiki to see if she was watching Freddie, she’d slyly look away. It was a cat and mouse game until Slug finally caught her looking at him and plucked her hard in the face.

  “A’ight. Don’t get fucked up in here,” Slug warned her. He was feeling some type of way a little behind the fact that Freddie was getting so much attention, especially from Kiki. It reminded him of how the Miami boys commanded attention when they used to pop up in not only the spot they were in now, but in one of the hot spots he caught them in. He was no hater; he just didn’t take too kindly to out-of-towners coming in and soaking up the shine time. Since Freddie was his cou
sin, he shook it off; he was an exception.

  “Boy!” Kiki exclaimed, and mushed Slug in the head just as hard.

  Slug responded by plucking her again, harder than the first time, and she lunged at him with her nails.

  Simone didn’t know what was going on, so she leaned away to keep from getting hit.

  “Yo, Slug! Slug! Fuck you doin’? Watch Simone!” Freddie demanded.

  Meanwhile, Slug was laughing and pulling Kiki’s weave, trying to keep her hands from his throat. “Don’t worry, cuz, this broad crazy. All she wanna do is fuck and fight.”

  “Don’t hit me no more, Slug,” she growled, hitting him in the chest.

  Slug locked his backhand back. “A’ight now, I’m through playin’. I’ma smack the shit out of you now.”

  “Move then,” Kiki replied, pushing his hip with hers. “Move so I can go to the bathroom.”

  Slug, amused, slid out of the way. Kiki turned to Simone. “You wanna come, girl?” she offered politely.

  Simone nodded and slid out of the booth behind Kiki. As the two walked away, Slug slid closer to Freddie and popped a shrimp in his mouth.

  “Nigga, y’all on some Ike and Tina shit, for real,” Freddie remarked.

  Slug chuckled. “Me and Kiki got a crazy understanding. She the only broad I trust. There’s been many a day a nigga was shootin’ bad and she gave me her last to grind. She just like it rough,” Slug explained.

  Freddie nodded.

  “But, yo,” Slug continued, lighting a Newport, “now that you here, what’s the next move? The way these chickens sweatin’ you, you need to mack these hoes.” Slug said it with a subtle hint of bitter sarcasm, which Freddie missed. Freddie was in his own world. From the moment he stepped into the place, he felt like a former crack addict in a smokehouse. Every female’s lustful gaze made Freddie think of the paper she represented. He was fien’ing to crack but he wanted with all his heart to keep it real with Simone.

  “Nah, yo. Simone proved she’d ride or die when she came wit’ me. Shorty gave up a lot for me and I gotta respect that.”

  Slug took a swig of E&J. “No doubt, no doubt. But you gotta eat. You gotta feed that pretty li’l thang. And believe me, love don’t pay no bills.”

  He had a point there.

  “Remember what we talked about up top? ’Bout the connect?” Slug reminded him. “What the deal wit’ dat?”

  It sounded like the move to make, but the only person Freddie knew and could trust was Gina, and he was trying to leave all that behind. He looked at Slug. “Dog, I can’t trust none of them cats in my situation, yo,” Freddie lied. “I’d just be askin’ for trouble.”

  “Well, dig, cuz. Whatever whatever, you know I’m wit’ you,” Slug said and gave Freddie dap. “You play Cee-lo?”

  “No doubt.”

  “Feel lucky?”

  “Shit, it ain’t but one way to find out.”

  Meanwhile, in the ladies’ room, Kiki was trying to pick Simone’s brain. “So how long y’all gonna be down here?”

  Simone touched up her lipstick in the mirror and shrugged off the question. “I’m not really sure. Probably not long.”

  Kiki saw that Simone was being evasive and selective with her information, so she changed the subject. “I love that top, girl. I ain’t never seen an Azzure like that. Where you cop that?”

  “Thank you,” Simone said, smoothing the material. “Just somethin’ I had.”

  The lies you tell, Kiki thought. They sold those at the mall. Something wasn’t quite right about her and Freddie, Kiki’s nosiness told her. Either Freddie was fine but broke, or he had it and was keeping a low profile. She knew if he was fucking with Slug, family or not, sooner or later if he didn’t have paper he would.

  Just then, two girls who had been eying Freddie walked into the bathroom. They looked Simone up and down and rolled their eyes as they passed. Simone was about to say something but Kiki stopped her.

  “Girl, don’t even sweat these no-good bitches. They just hatin’ ’cause your man is fine and, believe me, in a town small as the Boro, that’s a problem. But don’t sweat it. I got your back,” Kiki said.

  But all Simone could think about was Kiki’s own reaction to Freddie. With friends like that, she thought as she conjured up a smile.

  On the way over to the Cee-lo game, somebody called out, “Freddie! Freddie Holmes! I know that ain’t you!” It was a deep, sultry, feminine voice.

  He turned around and automatically had to do a double take. She was double-dipped chocolate, a shade darker than Simone, with baby doll eyes and deep-set dimples. She was killin’ ’em in her peach and white DKNY velour suit and matching, customized Air Ones. Her jewels sparkled even brighter because of her dark skin tone and she was cutting across the room with the kind of walk that made a nigga hard just watching.

  “Tina? Tina Jones?” Freddie echoed, a moment before he was smothered by a full-body hug and subtle grind.

  She stepped back and looked him up and down. “How you gonna come home and not make Tina a priority? I thought we was better than that.”

  Freddie had done his own visual evaluation on her as well, but on the low. He didn’t know where Simone was. He looked from his left to his right before he fully engaged in conversation with Tina. His survey was quick but effective. She had developed nicely in all the right places, he noticed. Her breasts protruded out perfect enough to be used as someone’s drink holder, while her hips prevented others from getting too close if they stood next to her. Her thick thighs looked like she had on football pads, not to mention the baby knuckles poking out of her V, between her inner thighs. She definitely did not look like the petite country girl he remembered.

  Tina had been his summer girlfriend when he was twelve and she was thirteen. It was little kid puppy love. Besides a few tongueless kisses and games of “catch a girl, get a girl,” which sent him home with tents in his Fruit of the Looms, it was innocent. Back then, Tina was long legged, skinny, and taller than him. But now she was Trina thick, Luke dancer thick, and a whole head shorter than him.

  Tina saw that Freddie had eyed her figure, so she whirled around to slap his eyes full of ass and stood with her hands on her hips. “Yeah, nigga, it’s me. All growed up and out.” She laughed, exposing his weakness: a platinum tongue ring. Her lip gloss popped with each syllable that exited her mouth. Freddie’s dick jumped at the fullness of them. He could already envision them wrapped around him.

  “I see that,” was all Freddie could get out.

  Slug was definitely not feeling this. He had been trying to fuck Tina, but since she was fucking that Miami nigga, she wouldn’t let him smash.

  “So what up, Freddie? Slug know where I live, but I bet you ain’t even ask,” she remarked, mock pouting.

  Before Freddie could answer, Simone and Kiki came out of the bathroom and quickly approached. Simone thought all this competition was quickly getting played out but she held her composure. “Hey, baby,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around Freddie’s neck and giving him a quick kiss. “Did you miss me?”

  “No doubt,” Freddie stuttered, tearing his eyes away from Tina and focusing on Simone.

  Simone fronted at first like Tina wasn’t standing there, then acknowledged her presence. “Oh, hello, I ain’t even see you. Were y’all talkin’?” Simone asked innocently, but her eyes staked claim.

  Tina wanted to say something fly, but Freddie cut in. “Simone, this is Tina, an old childhood friend. Tina, this is Simone, my fiancée.”

  Simone’s facial expression was bland. “Oh, you’re from Plainfield?”

  Tina giggled. “Naw! I’m from da Dirty, born and raised,” she chimed.

  A confused look appeared across Simone’s face.

  “Long story, babe,” Freddie intervened.

  Tina rolled her eyes but Simone didn’t catch it. “Humph, congratulations,” she shot at Simone like a subtle accusation.

  “I know.” Simone smiled.

  Freddie saw where this
was going. “So what up, boo? You ready to bounce? I’m tired as a muthafucka.”

  “Tired?” Slug repeated. “I thought . . .” He motioned toward the Cee-lo game but Freddie shot him a loaded glance.

  “Sure, baby,” Simone replied, letting him off the hook. For now.

  He turned to Tina. “Yo, Tina, on the real, it was good seein’ you, ma.” He could see the lust in her eyes the moment he turned and faced her.

  She shot him a full frontal gaze that she made sure Simone caught, licking her lips, exposing his weakness. “It was good seein’ you too, Freddie. Real good.” She put emphasis on her last words.

  Tina then sashayed off and faded into the crowd. Freddie had to fight not to watch her juicy ass jiggle. The entire ride home, Freddie couldn’t stop thinking about how thick Tina had gotten. Big girls were not his thing, but Tina made him curious about a BBW. He had always heard that everything was bigger and better when it came to plus-size chicks. He wondered if that applied to Tina. He was sure he was bound to run into her again.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Simone lay in bed wide awake, staring up at the ceiling. She too could not shake the encounter at the club. She didn’t want to be petty or be a pain, but something about the girl just seemed to rub her the wrong way. She rolled over on her side and propped herself up with her left hand, while shaking Freddie with her right.

  “Huh?” Freddie jumped out of his sleep. For the first few seconds he didn’t know where he was. It wasn’t until he saw Simone’s beautiful face that he realized he was only having a nightmare. Grateful she had woken him out of it he asked, “Why are you still up, bae?”

  “Who was she?” Simone ignored his question.

  “What?” Freddie looked at her oddly. He had no clue what she was talking about.

  “Who was she? At the club?” she repeated, being a little more specific. She was convinced he knew exactly who she was talking about.

  “Who?” Freddie answered her question with a question, trying to play dumb.

  Simone propped herself up on her elbow some more and looked at him with the “Nigga, don’t play wit’ me” face. But Freddie knew that if he had come right out and started talking about Tina, she would think Tina was on his mind, which she obviously was.