Black Beauty

by Erica Hilton

  “How do you know?”

  “I got a good look at him.”

  “What beef does he have wit’ you?”

  God didn’t reply right away. He had to think about things. “I don’t know!”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “I said I don’t fuckin’ know! It fuckin’ looked like him—you know all them spics look alike.”

  “What the fuck is goin’ on, God!”

  “Dude must think we robbed his man!”

  “You did!”

  “We did, bitch, and don’t you ever fuckin’ forget that shit.”

  Charlie cringed at hearing her affiliation out loud. “Anyway, how would he know? I ain’t talking. Chanel’s scary ass don’t know shit and Mateo has one foot in the grave.”

  “Well somebody’s snitching, and it’s either you or you told Claire and she’s talking. I swear on my life I’ll kill y’all bitches if I get jammed up!”

  “Snitchin’!” The word offended Charlie. She rejected the insult. “Are you dumb?”

  Things got heated inside the car. Their last lick was a flop, God was slightly injured, and they were still broke. Charlie was willing to stick by her man, but she knew he was lying to her. Since she’d set her sister up, their luck had been changing and things were going downhill.

  “I know this is your fault, bitch!” God cursed.

  “What? My fault? Fuck you! Fuck you, nigga!” she yelled.

  Charlie couldn’t control herself. While God was trying to drive the car, she put her hands on him, smacking him in the face and punching him everywhere. The car swerved on the road and God had to pull to the side to keep from crashing. Charlie was going off. God reacted and punched her in the face. It felt like he had broken her nose. The blood became thick over her mouth.

  “You fuckin’ bastard!” she shouted.

  “Get the fuck out, Charlie!”

  Charlie refused to leave. So, God irritably got out of the driver’s seat, and even though shot and injured, he forcefully removed Charlie from the passenger seat. She tried to resist, but God threw her to the pavement, kicked her in her side, and left her there.

  “Walk back to the projects, bitch!” he chided.

  Coldly, he climbed back into the car and sped away, leaving Charlie stranded in Queens. With little cash on her and blood trickling from her nose, Charlie fussed, cursed, screamed, and had no choice but to go somewhere to clean herself up and try to get home.

  She had to call an Uber and finally arrived home two hours later. Charlie walked through the front door looking a hot mess, and Claire, who was still up because she couldn’t sleep, became concerned for her sister.

  “What the fuck happened to you?”

  Charlie snapped, “Mind ya fuckin’ business,” and she marched by Claire and stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her. It was one thing to be in love with a womanizer, but it was another ballgame to be in love with a violent and abusive man like God.

  Claire wanted to help, but she knew Charlie wouldn’t allow her into her business. She could only sit and watch from the sidelines while her older sister’s life was spiraling out of control. She knew whatever it was Charlie and God were into wasn’t pretty at all.

  Claire was really trying to make amends for her wrong. She was trying to change her ways, and this time she was studying hard and wanted to give college another shot. The environment at home wasn’t the best, but she tried to work with what she had. Bacardi was away with Chanel, Butch was being Butch, and Charlie was too busy chasing behind God. Being the middle child, Claire had to make do on her own.

  Claire couldn’t sit back and watch her sister crumble. Fuck it, she said to herself. She marched into Charlie’s room to aid her.

  “You need help, and I love you and I ain’t taking no for an answer,” said Claire gruffly.

  Charlie was taken aback by Claire’s sudden entry and snippy tone.

  Claire gave her sister a bath and cleaned her wounds before feeding her and helping her to bed. Both her sisters were going through critical drama, and to think, Claire thought she had it bad.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  After the attempted murder on God, he decided to leave town right away, but first he made a quick stop to see his side chick, Kym. He needed her help. Kym left town with God for a few weeks. Her parents had a place in Syracuse, New York. It was a cabin on the lake where he could chill out and think and not look over his shoulder. The area was isolated and quiet, any neighbors were miles away, and the local road seemed to be longer than that. It was nothing but trees, grass, animals, and Mother Nature. God had to get used to the new and strange surroundings. He was a city boy, and the country was an entirely different world for him.

  God watched Kym move around the place like a natural. She knew where everything was and how to operate things he had no idea what they were for.

  “My parents used to bring me up here almost every summer when I was young. My father had a thing for the outdoors. He liked to get away for weeks at a time,” said Kym.

  What she said was irrelevant to God. He just needed a hideout. Brooklyn had gotten too dangerous and hot for him. He felt that the cops were coming down on him. That last lick was really sloppy, and there was no telling what kind of evidence they’d left behind. He’d assaulted Charlie and left her on the street like she was road kill. Would she be mad enough to come after him? God wasn’t sure.

  God watched Kym try to make the cabin a home for him. She was a nice girl, and God felt that he could really fall in love with Kym, if she wasn’t so boring. She was so vanilla, just one flavor all the time. But she was useful, and that’s what he needed right now—someone he could trust.

  “We’ll be okay here, God. It’s just takes some time to get used to.”

  Yeah, getting used to. It was easier said than done.

  By day three, God felt like he was going stir-crazy, but he couldn’t leave because he had to sort some things out. He needed to get some cash together, and he wanted go after Pyro—plot to kill that fool.

  Kym had become his liaison to the outside world. She would go back and forth for him, bring him food, clothes, entertainment, including pussy, and some comfort. Being alone in the woods in the middle of nowhere could change a man. God knew that he couldn’t last for too long in Syracuse, and he was desperate.

  He watched Kym in the kitchen cooking a meal for them. He knew her family had money and he needed Kym to do him a huge favor. Knowing what mood to put her in, God went to her and romantically grabbed her from behind and kissed the side of her neck. Kym smiled, loving his affection.

  “You know I love you, right?” he said.

  “I know.”

  “And I would do anything for you. I don’t know what I would do without you,” he said.

  God squeezed her lovingly and continued to tenderly kiss the side of her neck. He turned her around in his arms and they came face to face with each other. She was a pretty woman, but far from a ride-or-die bitch like Charlie, he believed. God passionately tongued her down and his hands roamed across her breasts and grabbed her butt. She was becoming hot and bothered.

  It was then that he said, “Can you do me a favor?”

  “What is it?”

  “I need a small loan.” He kissed her lips.

  “How much?”

  “Not too much, just five stacks.”

  “Five stacks?”

  “Five thousand dollars.”

  She was quite taken aback by the amount. Five thousand was nothing to sneeze at.

  “That’s a lot, baby.”

  “I know, but I promise I’ll pay you back. I really need this. I got lawyers to take care of,” he lied.

  She heaved a sigh and relented. “Okay. I’ll give it to you. But with one condition.”

  “What’s that?” he asked.


  “I need for you to sign a promissory note,” she said.

  A promissory note? Inside, he was cracking the fuck up. What the fuck good was a piece of paper? He didn’t have a job or credit, and he never planned on going legit. If he lived a long life then it would be a jobless life.

  “I promise,” he said.

  She smiled.

  He was now hungry for something else. God kissed Kym fervently and threw her against the kitchen table, turned her around, ripped away her panties, and thrust his hard dick inside of her from the back. Kym gasped as God fucked her. The feeling of his big dick inside her, filling and stretching her, it was the way she liked it.

  “You like this dick?” he teased. “Tell me you love this dick.”

  “I love your dick,” Kym panted.

  He entangled his fist around her hair and grabbed her side and continued to fuck the pretty bitch doggy-style. Their sexual movement forcibly shook the table. She could feel his muscles clench and release inside of her as he continued to thrust. It wasn’t long before she came, and he—breathing hard and excited—came too.

  It was what he needed, sex—something to get his mind off the troubles in the city. And Kym happily gave him whatever he wanted.

  Later that week, after another long and hard fuck, God was showering while Kym was tidying up. God’s cell phone rang in the bedroom. He couldn’t hear it due to the running water, but Kym heard it ring several times and curiosity got the better of her. A picture of a pretty, light-skinned female with red hair popped up and the name read: Charlie B.

  She gladly answered his phone.

  Charlie was stunned to hear a bitch on the phone. “Bitch, who the fuck is this?” Charlie bickered.

  “Bitch, who the fuck is this calling my man’s phone?” Kym retorted.

  “Your man?”

  “Yes, my man,” Kym repeated sternly.

  The two women started to argue, and Kym made it a point to tell Charlie how God had just gotten finished eating her pussy and fucking her sideways, and now he was taking a shower.

  The information infuriated Charlie. “Bitch, you don’t fuckin’ know who ya fuckin’ wit’! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, bitch!”

  “Fuck you, bitch!” Kym retorted.

  But Kym, coming to her senses after briefly allowing Charlie to bring her out of her character, went on to explain how she would never fight over a man. She indicated that Charlie must have a low IQ to match her low self-esteem to fight over a man. The remark was a low blow toward Charlie, and it started to fuck with her head. Where she was from, everyone fought over their dudes.

  “Kym, where you at?” she heard God calling her from the shower.

  Kym smirked, and said, “You hear that, bitch? That’s him calling me right now to join him in the shower. Bye bitch.”

  Kym hung up, leaving Charlie dumbfounded by the entire ordeal.

  ***

  Charlie was devastated. She was slowly watching her world do a 180. She was no longer the apple of anyone’s eye—not her parents, not her man.

  When God finally called her weeks later, Charlie had mixed emotions. She didn’t mention to him that she knew he had been staying with a girl named Kym. Despite everything he put her through, Charlie was still in love with him and she was happy to finally hear from him. It had been too long. She wanted to see him again.

  “I got a place for us, baby,” said God. “I want you to come over.”

  She was ready to run back to him with open arms. She missed him.

  God had rented an apartment with the money Kym had given him. It was a decent place in New Jersey, a low-key neighborhood. He was tired of Brooklyn and tired of being harassed by detectives. He still had to watch his back, and New Jersey was close to home, but still far enough away to keep a low profile.

  Charlie came to see him with extreme eagerness and some concern. The moment she walked into his new place, she hugged him and kissed him, already forgiving him for his past sins. They fucked everywhere from the bedroom, to the floor, to the shower, and back to the bedroom. Charlie was showing him how much she really missed him.

  After the sex, Charlie’s good pussy knocked God out cold as she knew it would. She took the opportunity to go through his cell phone and see what her unfaithful man was up to. God was a simple man and Charlie knew she’d crack his code. On the fourth try she got it. It was his building number: 89715. Once in, Charlie read all the texts between God and Kym and a couple other jump-off bitches. She scrolled through his stored photos to see a myriad of pussy pics and ass shots from random hoes. Then there were a number of pictures from a prim and proper looking skank. Charlie knew this was her—the slick talking bougie bitch who answered his phone. Stupidly, God had stored her address and Charlie was salivating. This bitch was going to get her ass whooped.

  When God woke up, Charlie resumed catering to him. She was willing to cook for him, and after feeding her man, she started with the questions.

  Where did the money come from? She thought he was broke. The apartment was small, but it was cute and cozy. God made it clear to Charlie that he wasn’t for the questions. He just wanted to have a good time and enjoy her. He was adamant that she “Shut the fuck up!” about everything.

  “Don’t ruin the moment, Charlie,” he warned her.

  To ease things between them, they started to drink and smoke weed. God was a heavy smoker and took a blunt of Amnesia to the face. Mixed with the alcohol, he became a very chill and laid-back individual. He no longer looked ruthless and malicious, but like a stoner high off of mushrooms. He was ready to talk about anything.

  Unbeknownst to him, Charlie had drugged the liquor and laced the weed.

  “You okay, God?” asked Charlie.

  “Baby, I’m fine,” he coolly replied.

  Charlie started her line of questioning again, now that he was in a more relaxed and open state of mind.

  “You know you can always keep it a hundred wit’ me, right, God?”

  “I know, baby . . . always one-hundred wit’ you.”

  “So, who gave you the money for this new place?”

  He smiled at her and said, “I got this new bitch I’m fuckin’ wit’ . . . Kym—good-ass pussy and shit, and if she wasn’t a boring bitch, that bitch would be my ride-or-die. She’s rich and she takes care of me.”

  The information was a lot for Charlie to take in and she frowned. But she continued with the questioning and the conversation transitioned to Chanel. Charlie needed to know the truth. She needed to hear him say it.

  “What happened to my sister, Chanel?”

  He finally came clean and said, “I didn’t plan for it to happen. It just happened that one time. And the way your sister used to flaunt that sweet dark pussy around the place, I had to sample that shit. But that bitch wanted it. I ain’t rape that bitch . . . and that pussy was too good. She got better pussy than you, baby.” He had a dopey looking smile on his face.

  Charlie’s stomach started to do all kinds of flips and it was churning like a NutriBullet. She tried to fight the tears back. It felt like she was about to detonate from the anger that was swelling inside of her.

  The drug she used was working far too well. God continued to dig his own grave. “I used people, Charlie, that’s what I do, baby. I fuck bitches, kill people, and keep it moving . . . make this money. That’s all I care about, is fuckin’ money, baby. Money is my bitch.”

  “Do you love me?” she asked.

  God laughed. “Bitch, I love what you can do for me.”

  The reply deeply hurt Charlie. She loved him with all her heart, but he continued to use her and disrespect her.

  When he was done confessing, he lay back on the couch, legs cocked open and he continued to smoke his blunt and drink his liquor, not knowing he’d done fucked up. Charlie coolly got up from her seat to go into the kitchen.

/>   God looked at her with his glassy eyes and said, “Babe, bring me some snacks back from the kitchen.”

  Charlie simply nodded her head. She soon returned looking like she was in a trance. She walked toward God and abruptly plunged the serrated steak knife into his chest. God jolted suddenly from the stabbing, jumping to his feet in absolute shock, but quickly he fell to his knees, becoming dizzy and weak. Charlie quickly pulled the knife out of his chest and she stabbed him again in the neck. His blood gushed out of him like a fountain. Charlie stood there like a woman possessed. She was shocked about her impulsive action. A part of her wanted to help save his life, but there wasn’t much she could do for him now. From all the blood spewing from him, she knew that she’d probably struck an artery.

  God held his hand over his neck wound and tried to reach for his cell phone on the coffee table, but Charlie grabbed it first and took a few steps back and stood there, watching the man die in agony.

  “Please . . . please help me, babe. Call an ambulance . . . call . . .” he stammered as he was choking on his own blood. “I-I . . . I’m dyin’. . .”

  Charlie stared at him. His eyes feared death and he uttered, “I-I love you, Charlie . . .”

  He was crawling to her, leaving a trail of his blood behind. He definitely was a tough son of a bitch. He refused to die right away.

  “Don’t do me like this,” he pleaded.

  But it was already too late. He soon stopped moving and his eyes closed. He lay there unconscious and face-down on the floor, and then his heart eventually stopped. God was finally dead.

  ***

  Charlie stayed in the apartment for several days with the body. She was completely shell-shocked. She had killed him. She had brutally stabbed him to death. Her days were spent crying and her nights were spent being terrified. She didn’t want to go to jail for the rest of her life.

  God’s body had started to decay and it was leaving behind an awful stench that Charlie tried to mask daily. She would spray the place with Lysol and open all the windows, but it being a warm September with little breeze, it didn’t help much.