by Anna J.
Stone nodded grimly, agreeing to the setup. The pressure that Tah put on Stone, coupled with the fear of Ruby possibly finding out that Stone agreed to help set her up, caused Stone to relapse, and he started smoking crack again. When he got paid, the monkey on his back caused him to even cop crack from the workers he collected money from for Ruby. To his demise, word got back to Ruby that he was smoking again. When she confronted him about it he denied it, and she was full of anger.
“This nigga tryna insult my intelligence, Mo,” Ruby said to Monique back at her Hamptons villa.
“Bitch, you must really be pissed. I’m down here with all your pussy in my face, and you rambling on about Stone,” Monique complained to Ruby from her place in between Ruby’s thighs while Ruby sat in a beach chair out on the patio.
Monique wiped Ruby’s wetness from her face with a pink beach towel, opened up the sliding glass door and marched into the house, angry and naked. Ruby took a puff on her blunt, and blew circles into the air before she yelled for Monique to come back.
“Mo, come here. I’m sorry.”
Ten minutes later, Monique appeared on the patio fully dressed in a sexy, tight-fitting pair of Gap jeans, a white button-down shirt from the Gap as well, with a cute pair of Gucci stiletto sandals to match the Gucci hobo bag dangling from her wrist.
“You need me to bring something back? I’m driving to the city,” Monique asked Ruby, not bothering to make eye contact.
“I’m sorry, Mo. I’m just stressed a little, you know?” Ruby replied, pleading for forgiveness with her eyes.
“Yeah, I know. Do you need anything?” Monique asked again, not willing to forgive Ruby that easily.
“When you coming back?” Ruby asked her, now seeing her through a weed-filled daze. Monique just shook her head.
“I’ll be back by midnight.”
“Bring me back some cheesecake from Juniors.”
Monique drove Ruby’s Sterling into the city. She knew in order to get Ruby’s attention back on their love life she’d have to get rid of whatever it was that got in the way. What got in the way was Stone. Monique felt for the nickel-plated .45 in her Gucci bag as she drove the two-hour drive into Brooklyn. While driving, she half listened to the New Edition tape that was playing. She loved the sound of Johnny Gill’s voice when he sang “Can You Stand The Rain.”
When Monique reached the dark, grimy streets of Brownsville, she drove to Rockaway and Dumont where Stone usually hung out. There were groups of hustlers and stick up kids standing on the corners. Some waved to Monique and some just stared at the Sterling as it drove by. Everyone knew Ruby drove the Sterling, but the mirror-tinted windows blocked anyone from seeing Monique driving it. She looked in front of a brightly lit liquor store and in front of a few bodegas and couldn’t find Stone.
Monique then drove to the block she hated going to: Mother Gaston Boulevard and Sutter Avenue. Stone usually hung out up there, either at the gas station or on the opposite corner. He wasn’t there, either. Driving around her birthplace, her native Brownsville, Monique looked at the neighborhood like an outsider. She could not believe the decaying, dilapidated houses were occupied by human beings. Living in the Hamptons made her beloved Brownsville leave a bad taste in her mouth.
She could not believe she felt this way. What was wrong with her? This is where she was from. This place made her who she was, and she loved who she was. She inhaled deeply in thought. I love the ville. If it ain’t rough it ain’t right.
Monique drove to what was said to be the most dangerous projects in the ville, Brownsville Houses. She drove around the projects looking for Stone, but still didn’t see him. She noticed groups of young men sitting on benches with boom boxes blasting the latest hip-hop joints. The neighborhood was noisy with music and hustlers yelling, “I got those red tops over here!” You could hear mothers yelling to their kids to come in the house. Groups of extension-wearing young girls with big, gold earrings and bangles walked around the projects, flirting with much older men. Some were looking for their baby fathers for money or trying to catch them messing with some other girl.
Monique smiled at what used to be her way of living. She felt a sense of pride now. Places like Brownsville make a person appreciate the little things in life. People who live in the Hamptons and other suburban getaways don’t know what it’s like to be dirt poor, and would kill themselves if they ever had to go through it. People in Brownsville are survivors. That’s what Monique was, a survivor.
Monique stopped at a light on Rockaway Avenue in Brownsville Houses waiting for it to turn green. She looked at a group of men in front of one of the tan and brown buildings to see if she spotted Stone among them. With her focus on the men in front of the building, she never got the chance to see the teenager dressed all in black walk up to the passenger-side window with his .44 Magnum pointed at the tinted glass. The loud shots from the gun could be heard within a five-block radius.
Monique heard the first shot clearly. The rest were muffled and her vision became blurry. Everything began to turn dark, and her hearing faded out. She didn’t hear the teenager yell, “That’s for Darnell, bitch!” People in the projects saw the teen run from the car while the horn blared from the weight of Monique’s slumped body pressing against the wheel. Stone heard the gunshots while he loaded his stem with crack while sitting on the staircase on the roof of a Brownsville Houses building. One of Ruby’s workers ran up the stairs while Stone inhaled the lit crack inside.
“Yo, Stone! Somebody just bodied that chick Ruby. She’s slumped in her Sterling on Rockaway right now!”
Stone almost choked on the smoke he inhaled when he heard what the worker said. He had to see it with his own eyes. He couldn’t believe Ruby slipped up and got herself killed. He started thinking Ruby was invincible, that she couldn’t be touched. He knew how cautious she was. She trusted no one except Mecca. Stone didn’t even think she trusted her lover Monique.
Stone ran down the stairs thinking it couldn’t be Ruby. Nah, not Ruby! He ran toward Rockaway Avenue still not believing what he just heard. When he saw the Sterling he still couldn’t believe it. He saw a crackhead he knew reaching inside of the car with the driver-side door open.
“Yo, Smoke, get the fuck away from her!” Stone yelled as he approached the car. The smoker backed up out of the car, holding a gold chain in his hand.
“She won’t be needing this, Stone. She deader than a mu’fucka, man.”
“Smoke, put that shit down before I peel your skull back, nigga,” Stone said, pointing a .38 revolver at him. The crack-head dropped the gold chain and ran off, not wanting to test Stone’s patience. Stone approached the car, putting his gun back on his waist. He exhaled loudly when he realized it wasn’t Ruby.
“Damn, Monique. What the fuck you doing over here, girl?”
Stone heard police and ambulance sirens headed toward the scene and he didn’t want to get caught up out there. He walked over to the pay phone a few blocks down and paged Ruby.
The backdrop of Mecca’s vision of a white-robed man named Lou changed from bright light to total darkness. Lou’s robe turned blood red. Mecca looked at herself for the first time, noticing she was naked. Seeing Monique killed made her cry. She wasn’t there when it happened, but seeing exactly how it went down hurt her to her soul.
“I don’t want to do this anymore. Why are you doing this?” she sobbed.
“Monique loved you, Mecca. She didn’t want you in the streets. Not only did she express that to your aunt, but she also told you plenty of times to get it together. You didn’t listen. Or was it that you didn’t take her seriously because she continued to play the game?” Lou asked.
Mecca still shook her head, sobbing. “I don’t know! I don’t know!” Mecca sobbed as she heard Monique’s voice in her ears warning her about the streets:
“Mecca, don’t be like me and your aunt. You see what happened to your moms and pops. Your mom wasn’t even in the game like that, but she still died for what your
pop was into. You got your whole life ahead of you. You don’t want to die young, or end up in jail forever. These streets don’t discriminate. Just because you’re a pretty girl don’t mean shit. You can’t change the direction of a bullet with a fat ass and good looks.”
“And you know what, Mecca?” Lou continued, “She wasn’t the only one who wanted what was best for you. You were blinded by greed and lust.”
Lou posed with his hands on his waist like a female posing for a photo shoot and said, “You were a diva in the streets. You were invincible, right, Mecca? Nobody could touch the Queen of New York.” Lou laughed out loud, then, just as quickly, his expression turned serious.
“You were wrong though, but it’s my job to show you what you failed to see. Let’s carry on,” he said, clapping his palms together to continue Mecca’s journey.
Chapter Nine
For she hath cast down many wounded; yea, many strong men have been slain by her.
Psalms 7:26
Hundreds of people convened in the Brownsville funeral home to pay their respects to Monique. Monique’s oak wood casket was surrounded by expensive wreaths and flowers paid for by Ruby and Mecca. Ruby paid for the funeral, the casket, and the mausoleum that Monique’s body would be laid in to rest.
Ruby had Monique’s body dressed in a white pants suit with gold buttons down the front of the jacket. She made sure Monique was made up beautifully. She almost looked more elaborately dressed and made up as a corpse than she did alive. Some people commented on that fact out of earshot. When people tried to hug Ruby, offering her their condolences, people she didn’t know or had ever seen Monique associate with, she verbally assaulted them.
“Who are you? Did you even know Monique?” To some of Monique’s family members, she growled as they walked by.
“Stop being phony, when was the last time y’all saw her? What you do, chew an onion to get them fake-ass tears in your eyes?” she asked as they came up to view the body, causing everyone to avoid her.
She paid her workers to keep their eyes open. If they find out who killed Monique, she wanted to know. She offered a $50,000 hit for the person who found the person. She had a plan for Stone’s ass too, who showed up at the wake high off crack, and smelling like he hadn’t bathed in months. He went up to view Monique’s body, and Ruby gave him a look that he missed. He was definitely going to pay.
“Ruby, I’m gonna find out who did this. I swear to God, someone is gonna pay!” Stone whispered in her ear before he walked away. Little did he know he would have to pay for this too.
Damn near every killer in Brownsville tried to cash in on the hit. There were thousands of rumors about who did it. When the rumor of Tah’s involvement spread around the streets, Mecca quickly put an end to that, letting everyone know that Tah was with her that night.
It was the most memorable night in Mecca’s life. After she and Tah dined at Red Lobster, Tah rented a room at the Ramada Inn near LaGuardia Airport. Mecca sat in the passenger seat of Tah’s Porsche feeling the wind blow against her face as Tah sped down the Van Wyck Expressway. She tried to mentally prepare herself for the physical act of sex. She had never been this nervous, except when she first felt the flow of blood leak from her vagina. Instead of running to talk to Ruby about her period, she confided in Monique.
“Monique, come here,” Mecca whispered from the bathroom, standing behind the door and sticking her head out.
“What’s up, girl?” Monique asked, concerned.
Mecca opened the door all the way and pulled Monique into the bathroom by her hand. She showed her the drops of blood on the panties she held in her hand, and Monique started laughing. Mecca was confused.
“Why you laughing, Mo? I’m bleeding!”
“Girl, ain’t no reason for you to be scared. It’s your period. It’s all a part of being a woman. It’s going to happen every month, so get used to it,” Monique said, opening the door. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” When Monique returned, she handed Mecca a Maxi pad.
“Put this on your pussy, and change it throughout the day until you stop bleeding. It usually takes three to seven days. Here is a bag of pads. I’ll get you a douche to clean yourself afterward. You don’t want your pussy smelling like trash truck juice.”
Mecca sat at the funeral home staring at Monique’s body, thinking of her. She felt a lump in her throat as she tried not to cry. Monique wouldn’t be here to talk to her about sex, and she didn’t think sex was a topic Ruby wanted to speak to her about. Mecca’s mind wandered back to that night with Tah, and it saddened her how she wouldn’t have anyone to talk to now. That was one of the most memorable nights of her life, and she zoned out as she thought back.
“You all right?” Tah asked, seeing Mecca’s facial expression in deep thought. “If you’re not with it we can wait, Mecca.”
“No, I’m all right. I don’t want to wait any longer. I love you, Tah.” Mecca sucked her teeth before responding to him.
Tah was caught off guard with the four-letter word that he swore he would never say or feel toward a woman except his mother or grandmother. Too many cats he knew fell victim to that word. He knew dudes who fell in love with a chick, got locked up, and the girl the dude loved was in the free world fucking the dude’s friends, brothers, and even the nigga’s sister.
A lot of cats got killed over women, and Tah swore to himself that it would never be him. He really liked Mecca a lot, though. He even dared to say he cared about her. She wasn’t like the girls he usually dealt with. She wasn’t the neighborhood freak like the girls he and his crew got a piece of. She was a virgin, and she wanted him to be her first. That sent Tah on an ego trip so far he had to pack a year’s worth of luggage. But love? That’s a whole other level that Tah didn’t think he was ready for. Not wanting to ruin the night, Tah told Mecca he loved her too, and was almost convinced that he believed it.
Tah and Mecca entered the plush hotel room with cream wall-to-wall carpeting, mirrored walls, and a Jacuzzi shaped like a martini glass. Tah surprised her with a pair of hoop earrings with diamonds on them. Mecca hugged Tah, then their mouths met and their tongues began to wrestle with each other. Tah tried to be as gentle as he could. He wanted this night to be special for her. He wanted her to be strung out on him and never want to share her love with anyone else. He felt he was experienced enough to pull it off.
Tah began to suck on Mecca’s earlobe, then slowly moved down to her neck. Mecca felt chills through her whole body as Tah began to unbutton her shirt. Her black satin bra came into view, and Tah had to make himself slow down. He picked her up and walked her over to the king-sized bed to lay her down, afterward softly kissing her belly button while caressing her breast. Then suddenly he stopped.
“Hold on, Mecca. Let me use the bathroom.”
Tah went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the large mirror over the beige porcelain sink. His manhood bulged against the crotch of his red Fila velour sweat suit. As was routine with every girl he bedded, Tah took out his dick and began to masturbate so that when he had sex with Mecca he wouldn’t cum quick. Mecca unhooked her bra while she waited for Tah to take off her tight-fitting jeans. Her panties matched her bra. Remembering what Monique had said about keeping her pussy smelling fresh, Mecca rubbed her hand against her pussy and smelled it. She was satisfied with the smell the vinegar-and-water douche left behind.
She heard plenty of tales from being around guys in the projects and listening to the workers she collected money from of a girl’s pussy smelling like fish chasing a nigga away. The news that a girl had a stink pussy spread around the neighborhood and did severe damage to a girl’s reputation. Mecca made sure that it would never be her. Three minutes later, Tah came out of the bathroom ready to give Mecca the best first sexual experience ever.
Tah took off his pants and crawled on the bed in his Calvin Klein boxers. He looked at Mecca’s body and he felt his dick begin to stiffen. Her firm breasts and plump rear end didn’t fit a sixteen-year
-old’s body. Her body fit a woman in her twenties. Mecca could tell that Tah worked out. He wasn’t bulky or too small; his body was well defined from the eighteen-month sentence he served in D.F.Y.
Tah let his tongue explore Mecca’s body, taking her on a high she had never experienced before. She gasped when she felt his warm tongue on her nipples. He licked down her belly button while removing her jeans and panties. He continued to taste and caress Mecca until he was sure she liked what he was doing.
“Tah, that feels so good,” she moaned.
Mecca tried to get away from Tah, but it felt too good. She felt waves of pleasure run through her body. She didn’t know why she kept feeling her entire body when Tah put his tongue inside of her. He brought her to multiple orgasms in no time.
He wanted to loosen her up some; the tightness of her pussy made Tah grind his teeth. Not that Mecca was his first virgin, but she felt a lot tighter than previous ones he had encountered. Slowly he opened her legs in the missionary position, and glided his rock-hard dick inside of her.
“Wait…wait, Tah. It hurts!” Mecca screamed out loud, holding on to Tah tightly. Tah kissed Mecca’s lips and whispered in her ear to calm her down.
“I’m sorry, Mecca. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know, Tah. Please try again, I want you in me.”
After Tah’s first orgasm, he took Mecca into the Jacuzzi and they enjoyed a bottle of Moët while they relaxed. Tah stared at Mecca and it reminded him of something his partner Boogie had told him awhile back, and it had him feeling confused.
“Yo, Tah. Your chick Mecca is the bitch with the Sterling niece.”
“Get the fuck outta here, Boog!” Tah responded in disbelief.
“Word is born, son. Your chick work for her aunt, too. She manages her spots in the projects.”
“How you know all this, son?” Tah asked, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.
