The Fix 3

by K'wan

  “Nice to meet you.” Li’l Monk spoke up to break the sexually tense silence.

  Tiffany popped the candy from her mouth to say, “Likewise,” before putting it back in.

  “So what’s up?” Stacy interrupted. “Y’all sitting around like you just lost your best friend. I thought y’all was trying to have a good time.” She grabbed one of the bottles from the table and helped herself to a glass.

  “You heard the lady.” Omega picked up the bottle of Hennessy and placed it in front of Li’l Monk. “Let’s get this party started.”

  For the next twenty minutes Stacy and Tiffany danced for Omega and Li’l Monk exclusively, much to the dismay of some of the other patrons. A few haters even tried to complain to management about the preferential treatment, but the way Omega was throwing money they let the girls rock out. Li’l Monk was tipping too, but not like Omega. True to his word he was in there living like a man on his last day.

  One of the scantily clad waitresses came over with a bottle of champagne on a silver tray. The sparkler sticking out of the mouth of the bottle rained sparks on the table as she set it down. “Compliments of the gentlemen over there.” She pointed across the room, answering the question that was on both Li’l Monk’s and Omega’s faces.

  Li’l Monk looked in the direction where she had pointed and saw three men sitting in a booth on the other side of the room. One of them, a young dude who wore his head completely shaved, raised his champagne glass in salute, acknowledging that it had been his party who sent the bottle over. “You know them niggas?” he asked Omega.

  Omega looked over and frowned. “Yeah, those are some of Shai’s peoples,” he said in disgust. “I don’t know the other two, but they call the one with the bald head Nut.”

  “Send that shit back and tell them we good,” Li’l Monk told the waitress in a sharp tone.

  The waitress looked back and forth between Li’l Monk and the party that had sent her over, not particularly sure what to do.

  “Bitch, are you hard of hearing?” Omega spoke up. “You heard my friend. Send it back or pour it out. Either way I don’t want that shit on this table.”

  Li’l Monk watched the waitress as she went back to the table to deliver the bad news. The one Omega had identified as Nut looked their way and smirked, nodding his head. One of his people made to get up from his seat, but Nut stopped him.

  “Bitch-ass niggas.” Omega sneered at them and took a swig from the Hennessy bottle.

  As the night wore on Li’l Monk slowed down on his drinking, but Omega was throwing them back. Between him and the two girls they had polished off the first two bottles and were now doing shots. Omega kept ordering shots for Li’l Monk, which he pretended to drink, but he mostly poured them on the floor. He didn’t like the dirty looks the kid Nut and his people were shooting their way and wanted to be on point if something went down.

  “Damn, I gotta take a leak.” Omega pushed himself up from the table. He wobbled a bit as he stepped out of the booth.

  “You good?” Li’l Monk asked, noticing a glazed-over look in Omega’s eyes. He was clearly drunk off his ass.

  “Yeah, man, I’ll be straight once I piss all this old liquor out and make room for some new booze.” Omega laughed drunkenly.

  “You want me to roll with you?” Li’l Monk asked, seeing Omega was having trouble keeping on his feet.

  “Nah, I can hold my own dick.” Omega staggered off toward the bathroom.

  “Your drunk-ass friend is probably gonna be in there for a while so I’m gonna hit the main floor and try to get some of this money.” Stacy slid from the booth. “You coming, Tiff?”

  “Nah, I think I’m good right here.” Tiffany nestled closer to Li’l Monk.

  “Suit yourself.” Stacy sauntered away.

  While Stacy was chasing dollars, and Omega was likely in the bathroom throwing up, Tiffany kept Li’l Monk entertained. She had finally loosened him up enough to let her give him a lap dance. Tiffany straddled Li’l Monk’s lap, finding a comfortable position before getting into her routine. Li’l Monk found himself surprised because Stacy had said it was Tiffany’s first night dancing, but she moved like a veteran, throwing her lower regions on Li’l Monk and causing his dick to rise. For as short and light as Tiffany had been on conversation all night, when her number was called she proved heavy on moves.

  Li’l Monk had been good at keeping his hands to himself all night, but Tiffany was turning him on. He let his rough hands explore the length of her body, and cupped her nice-sized breasts. Tiffany reached her hand between her legs and played with Li’l Monk’s dick through his jeans, causing it to swell to the point where he thought he might nut on himself. Li’l Monk loved Sophie, but Tiffany was making him weak. He was about to throw caution to the wind when there was the sound of breaking glass somewhere behind them.

  The first place Li’l Monk looked was in the direction where Nut and his crew had been sitting, and he found it empty. “Omega.” He gasped, pushing Tiffany off his lap and heading toward the bathrooms.

  CHAPTER 14

  Omega had barely made it through the smoked-glass bathroom door before all the liquor he consumed came pouring out. He leaned over in one of the stalls, stomach lurching, and painted the toilet seat with everything he’d eaten that day. After a few minutes the sickness had passed and Omega was starting to feel more like himself.

  After taking a minute to create more of a mess for the cleaning crew by pissing all over the toilet seat, Omega went to the sink to try to get himself together. He washed his hands and rinsed his mouth out with cold water. As he was rinsing his mouth Omega heard the bathroom door open and close. He looked up in the mirror and saw Nut and his two boys roll into the bathroom.

  “Sup, Omega?” Nut approached him.

  “You tell me, nigga,” Omega replied coolly, drying his hands on one of the rough brown paper towels.

  “C’mon, man. Why all the hostility?” Nut asked in a calm voice. “I sent you a bottle and you send it back. I try to come in here and talk to you like the stand-up nigga I always heard you were and your body language is telling me to go fuck myself. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you didn’t like me.”

  “Probably because I don’t,” Omega shot back.

  “Man, fuck this nigga.” One of Nut’s boys stepped forward, but Nut waved him back.

  “Listen, Omega,” Nut began. “You don’t like me and in truth I ain’t no big fan of yours, but my boss Swann seems to have a high opinion of you. He’s the one who asked me to talk to you.”

  “Talk to me about what?” Omega asked.

  “About the future. Look, dawg, ain’t no need to mince words or sugarcoat this shit because we’re both on the streets and we both see what’s happening. The eighties and nineties are gone and Pharaoh’s reign is coming to a close. The pickings are about to be real slim on that side of the fence. This doesn’t mean that all y’all gotta starve with that old relic. Cats like you, Benny, Li’l Monk, even Chucky’s smoked-out ass, y’all young dudes were the ones really holding the streets down while men like Pharaoh and Ramses sit back in their big houses reaping the benefits and handing the soldiers whatever scraps fall off their tables. On our side, everybody eats the same.”

  “Yeah, I can tell y’all ain’t missing no meals,” Omega said sarcastically, looking at the overweight young man who was with Nut.

  Nut shook his head at Omega’s immaturity. “Look, man, you can make jokes all you want but, like it or not, this thing is going to happen. You’re a good earner, Omega. Don’t let pride and misplaced loyalties leave you out in the cold with everyone else. Fucking with the Clarks you’ll be balling on a level you never dreamed possible.”

  “Is that right?” Omega raised his eyebrow.

  “Swann got big plans for you, Omega. No foot soldier shit while you’re waiting to make your bones. Your rep speaks for itself so you’d come in as a boss; your own crew and an entire housing project to run instead of some bum-ass corner
s,” Nut told him.

  “That’s a damn sweet offer,” Omega said mulling it over.

  “And it’s only gonna get sweeter, Omega. Shai doesn’t just want to rule the city; he’s got his sights set on the world. You ain’t gotta answer right now, but think on it and come see me when you make up your mind.” Nut extended his hand.

  Omega shook Nut’s hand. “No need to wait, I got an answer for you now. You, Swann, and Shai Clark can suck my dick!” he said before snuffing Nut.

  In a flash Nut’s crew was on Omega, trying to pack him out. Omega put his back on the wall and defended himself as best he could. Nut’s crew weren’t the most skilled fighters, but Omega was drunk and his reaction time was off. Someone managed to land a solid blow on the side of his head, dazing him. Omega went down to one knee, and tried to protect his head as they rained punches on him. Omega spied Nut making his way toward him with his leg drawn back. He waited for the kick to come and grabbed Nut’s leg. Calling on his adrenaline, Omega picked Nut up and dove with him through the glass bathroom door.

  The fight spilling over onto the main floor caused a panic inside the club. People were scrambling to get out of the way of the warring combatants. Nut and his crew outnumbered Omega so they should’ve been whipping his ass, but he was holding his own, until a bottle crashed into the back of his head and sent him sprawling face down to the ground. Once Omega was at their mercies, Nut and his crew began viciously stomping and kicking him. Security had now gotten involved, but Omega couldn’t tell if they were trying to break it up or help Nut’s crew stomp Omega out. Omega thought they were going to kill him until he heard an unmistakable voice.

  “The fuck off my homeboy!” Li’l Monk roared, charging Nut’s crew. He was like a mini wrecking ball bowling through security and enemies alike. Li’l Monk paused long enough to help Omega to his feet, which allowed Nut time to kick him in his back. Li’l Monk flew several feet and crashed into an unoccupied chair. Before they could swarm him, Li’l Monk was back on his feet and armed with the chair. In a show of brute strength he ripped two of the legs from the wooden chair and wielded them like clubs. He and Omega stood back to back as they were surrounded by Nut’s crew and almost a dozen angry bouncers and staff members.

  “See, I told you we’d have fun tonight,” Omega said over his shoulder.

  “Fuck you, O! Every time I turn around I gotta pull your ass out of the fire!” Li’l Monk shouted back.

  “That’s one of the perks of being my best friend.” Omega laughed. “You know this is gonna end bad don’t you?”

  Li’l Monk surveyed the numbers and knew they were about to take a beating. “Fuck it; live every day like it’s our last right?” he quoted Omega before lashing out with the chair legs.

  Li’l Monk and Omega lasted all of thirty seconds before they found themselves at the bottom of a dog pile getting the shit kicked out of them.

  After getting tossed out of the strip club Omega and Li’l Monk ended up back at Stacy’s where the girls tended to their wounds. Omega ended up losing several of his dreads and suffered a bruised cheek in the brawl, while Li’l Monk felt like his rib was cracked. They had taken an ass whipping of epic proportions, but it was worth it. They had succeeded in causing a full-scale riot that everyone in the streets was sure to be talking about for weeks, including the Clarks. Omega sent them a loud and clear message that they were loyal to Pharaoh.

  Stacy was angry because being that they had dropped her name at the door, the club owners blamed her for bringing them. Omega patched things over by promising to give her a few dollars to keep her afloat until she landed another gig. Tiffany didn’t too much care about not being able to dance there anymore. It was her first night and she hadn’t developed any attachments to it.

  Once Omega and Li’l Monk’s injuries were tended to they kept the party going. Omega had some weed on him and Stacy managed to scrounge up a big-ass bottle of cheap vodka that had been in her refrigerator. Normally Li’l Monk wouldn’t have mixed light and dark liquor, but all the fighting had completely blown his buzz from earlier. Besides that he needed something to numb the pain of his aching ribs.

  The liquor and weed brought Tiffany all the way out of her shell. She pranced around the living room still dressed in her stripper outfit, dancing seductively to the slow jams CD Stacy had put on. While everyone else seemed to be mellowing out, she seemed to be getting more out of control. Stacy had to check her when she attempted to pull her bikini top off in front of Omega. Had Li’l Monk not known any better he would’ve thought she was on something more than weed or alcohol.

  As the night wore on things got a bit more intimate. Omega was damn near molesting Stacy in the middle of the living room for all to see. Eventually he took her in the bedroom, leaving Li’l Monk and Tiffany alone.

  Tiffany parked herself on Li’l Monk’s lap with a drink in one hand and a blunt between her lips. She ground back and forth on Li’l Monk’s lap, blowing weed smoke in his face. “You know, Stacy told me that you were off the chain, but seeing it for myself was something else.”

  Li’l Monk shrugged. “I do what I do when necessary.”

  “Strong and modest, huh?” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “I got so wet when you split that kid’s skull with the chair leg.” She licked his ear.

  “Chill, ma.” Li’l Monk pushed her back a bit to put some distance between them.

  Tiffany looked hurt. “Why you acting like that? I thought you liked me.”

  “I do. I mean, you’re bad as shit, but I got a girl,” Li’l Monk told her.

  “Well, she ain’t here right now is she? And I don’t know the bitch so you won’t have to worry about her finding out, so what’s the problem?”

  Li’l Monk didn’t answer. Internally his heart and his dick were locked in a heated argument. Having Tiffany playing him so close was dead wrong, but it felt so right.

  “I know what it is.” Tiffany raised her cup between them. “You need some more to drink to loosen you up.” She sipped from her cup, leaned forward, and spit the liquor into Li’l Monk’s mouth before kissing him. It wasn’t a passionate kiss like those he shared with Sophie; this was one of pure lust. The next thing Li’l Monk knew he was kissing her back.

  He and Tiffany sat on the couch kissing and sharing vodka. Li’l Monk wasn’t sure if it was the cheap liquor or the fact that he had been drinking heavily earlier, but his head began to swim. Heat spread through his face and worked its way down his body, settling in his dick.

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” Tiffany stroked his dick through his jeans. She slid down the length of his body and began undoing his pants.

  “Stop, don’t do that,” Li’l Monk said weakly. His brain told him to push her away but his body wouldn’t cooperate. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” he wondered out loud.

  “Nothing, baby. You’re just riding the E train.” Tiffany winked at him before making his dick disappear in her mouth.

  Li’l Monk looked at the nearly empty cup of vodka in his hand and it was then it hit him. Tiffany had put something in their drink.

  Tiffany crawled back up his body and he could feel her trying to put his rock-hard dick into her soaking wet pussy. “Wait, a condom,” he babbled.

  Tiffany placed her finger over his lips. “Don’t worry, I ain’t got nothing. Besides, it feels better this way.”

  Every fiber of Li’l Monk’s being screamed for him to get Tiffany off his ass, but he was too far gone in the throes of whatever Tiffany had slipped him. When he felt her warm pussy slide over his dick, Li’l Monk’s whole body went rigid. Without even realizing it a drug-induced smile spread across Li’l Monk’s lips.

  “That’s right, baby.” Tiffany got comfortable on him. “Just relax and let mama ride this dick ’til it spit.”

  PART III

  STRANGE BEDFELLOWS

  CHAPTER 15

  Meeka stepped out of her building wearing a pair of baggy gray Juicy sweats, Moschino sneakers, an
d a graphic T-shirt. A Gucci scarf was tied on her head, Aunt Jemima style. Since it was chilly out that day she wore a light wool jacket that she had gotten from the thrift store for a fraction of its retail price. What she was wearing wasn’t too far off from the street uniform she’d worn all her life, only the brands had changed.

  Meeka had never been a chick who cared about brands or what something cost. If it was comfortable and presentable she was okay with it, but when Christian came along everything changed. Whether he was going to handle some hood shit or host a gala, Christian was always sharp, and it reflected in the people he kept around him. It wasn’t that he enforced any sort of dress code, but Meeka noticed that those lucky enough to inhabit his inner circle carried themselves a certain way: always clean. Even Boogie could throw it on when he needed to. Even when they were slumming their label game was up. The more time Meeka spent around them, the more she got tired of feeling like the dusty hood bitch who hung around the beautiful people, so she invested a good chunk of what she made into her wardrobe.

  As she strolled her block she found it relatively dead, which was odd. Normally at that time there was always someone out either trying to buy drugs or sell them, so to see her neighborhood deserted was strange. She wasn’t complaining, just a bit surprised. Goodness knew she welcomed the calm.

  Meeka walked to the bodega two blocks away to get her morning coffee and a pack of cigarettes. The bodega on the corner of her block was closer, but the one two blocks away sold Newports for almost half the price. They were from other states and didn’t have New York State stamp so they could be sold for cheaper than suggested retail cost. It wasn’t legal, but it was lucrative.

  She was making her way back to her block, sipping coffee and smoking a cigarette, when she noticed a red Corvette parked in front of her building. As she got closer the driver got out and walked around to the curb. It was Christian. She almost didn’t recognize him dressed in loose-fitting jeans, a pair of construction Timberlands, and a black-and-white varsity jacket. The only trace of his normal flash was the black baseball cap he wore, with big gold metallic letters across the front that spelled out G.O.D. In his hand he held a Burberry umbrella, despite the fact that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.