by K'wan
“Then you better get yourself a pistol or a package, because that ego you brought back with you to the hood ain’t gonna fix your situation or get that five thousand for Duhan,” Boots said seriously.
Tionna looked up at the three sets of inquiring eyes and suddenly felt like she was on trial. For most of Duhan’s bid she had been true to him, and for his entire bid she had held him down, often going without to do so. She was living hand to mouth, trying to crawl out of a hole that seemed to have no beginning, and she was getting tired of it. There had been a time in her life when it wouldn’t have taken much to get up the five thousand and plus some if she really put her mind to it, but here she was getting advice from Boots and Tracy. She was slipping, and it didn’t sit well with her. Suddenly an idea formed in her head.
“You know what, I think I got this shit all worked out,” Tionna told them.
Gucci’s face brightened. “I know that look, T. What’s popping?”
“What’s popping is that I need to get this money up for my man, by hook or by crook, and I’m ’bout to step to my business.”
“Well, don’t keep an asshole in suspense,” Gucci pressed her.
“A lady never kisses and tells.” Tionna winked. “But what I will tell you is that I’m about to show muthafuckas how to really rob an industry nigga.”
CHAPTER 23
Boots had never thought she would be so happy to see the brown bricks of her latest project residence. She and the girls had sat up at Tionna’s, smoking and plotting, while the queen of the house went on and on about her problems. Boots loved Tionna, but her constant complaining worked her nerves. Boots knew she was wrong for hating on Tionna, but she just couldn’t help it. Boots had had to bust her ass for everything she got in life and still couldn’t manage to get out of her fucked-up situation, and here was Tionna complaining about everything that had been taken away from her when she hadn’t earned it in the first place. She had been on point before Duhan blew up, but when he started getting money, Tionna’s shit went to the next level and she wore it like a badge of honor, even after it had been snatched from her.
When she got out of the taxi, she was greeted by an empty courtyard. Even though it was warm outside, the projects were deserted. Two people had been killed there last night and the police had the hood in a choke hold. As she was about to venture deeper into the projects, she heard somebody call her name. When she turned around, she saw Happy grinning at her from behind the wheel of his truck.
“What’s up, Boots?” Happy waved to her. His face was a little scratched up, but otherwise he seemed unharmed, considering what had happened in Mochas. She had thought Happy would be locked up with Ron-Ron for starting the situation, but as usual he had slipped through the cracks.
“Boy, you’ve got some nerve speaking to me after the bullshit you started last night.” She folded her arms.
“You know that wasn’t none of my doing. Your girl was the one trying to play herself, with her trick ass.”
“Fuck what Tionna did; because of you, they had us at the precinct for hours. I’m surprised your simple ass isn’t locked up, too, since you put the battery in Ron-Ron to do that stupid shit.”
Happy raised his hands in surrender. “How can you detain an innocent man? Ron-Ron did right by keeping his mouth shut; he knows I’ll take care of him.”
“Happy, you’re slicker than a pig in shit,” she said, disgusted.
“Call me what you want, but at least I’m out here to hear you say it. And speaking of slick, what up with that slick shit you was kicking last night.”
“Hap, go ahead with that,” she said playfully. She wasn’t at all attracted to Happy, but she secretly wondered what, besides money, could’ve possibly made Tionna deal with him for as long as she had.
“Nah, I thought sure we had a connection on some grown people’s shit, or was that the liquor talking and you’re little girl again?” Happy mocked her.
“For as many kids as I’ve got, I ain’t been a little girl in a long time,” Boots shot back.
“And this is what I know, which is why I’m asking you what’s good?” Happy asked. Boots looked like she could go either way on it, so he sweetened the pot. “Come on, take a ride with me right quick to pick this bread up. I’ll throw something in it for you.”
“I can’t, Hap. Bernie has been with the kids since last night and his ass is already pissed at me, I should go home,” she said, but didn’t bother to move.
“I’ll tell you what, take this ride with me and before I drop you off I’ll get you a few bags of that superweed y’all like to smoke.”
That sealed the deal for Boots as she walked around and climbed in on the passenger side. “Happy, you got a half hour to get me back here or I’m getting in a cab.”
Happy gave her his signature smile. “Don’t worry, Boots, it ain’t even gonna take me that long.” He laughed and pulled out into traffic.
Ten minutes later, Happy’s truck was parked along Morningside Drive, with Boots bent over the backseat while he shoved himself violently inside her. He had heard the stories about how good Boots’s pussy was, but feeling it firsthand he knew that the stories didn’t do her justice. She made him start with a condom, but for the promise of five hundred dollars she let him take it off so he could feel her walls, and they were as sweet as candy.
“Damn, this pussy is good,” Happy hissed, raining saliva on Boots’s back.
“That’s right, fuck this pussy so you can cum—hurry up and cum,” Boots rasped, looking at her watch from time to time. Happy had a wide dick, but it was barely touching her spot. The only pleasure she got in fucking him was the fact of knowing she was intruding on something that belonged to Tionna, Ms. Untouchable.
“Yeah, ima cum; where you want me to put this cum?” His breathing became more jagged.
“Wherever you want, as long as you hurry up and do it,” she told him. Boots was taken completely by surprise when he grabbed her roughly by her hair and took himself out of her. Happy turned her so that she was facing him while he stroked his dick. “Happy, you better . . .” As soon as she opened her mouth, he unloaded in it.
“You dirty muthafucka.” Boots wiped her mouth with the backs of her hands. Happy’s semen tasted like garbage and it was going to take a severe scrubbing to get the taste out.
“Sorry, but you told me to cum where I wanted to.” Happy wiped his dick with a paper towel before tucking it back in his pants. He pulled his bankroll from his pocket and counted out six hundred dollars. “The extra hundred is for being such a freaky little bitch.”
“Fuck you, Happy. Just take me home,” she fumed, looking in her compact mirror to make sure he hadn’t cum in her hair.
“Gladly. Your pussy is stinking up my ride,” Happy said before pushing the truck back to the hood.
When Boots got into her apartment it was dark and quiet, which was unheard of for her house, so she immediately thought the worst: Maybe someone saw them? After all, they didn’t live very far from where Happy had screwed her. If that was the case, then death was surely waiting around the corner.
She eased down the hall toward the living room, where she saw the flickering of lights. As she got closer she heard music playing softly. Something was afoot. Boots held her breath and rounded the corner into the living room, expecting the worst, and was surprised by what she saw. Their little coffee table was set with candles and decorative plastic utensils. In the center of the table was a beautifully roasted chicken with all the trimmings. Lying on the carpet, near the foot of the table, was Bernie, and he was wrapped in nothing but a towel.
“What is all this?” Boots asked, shocked by the beautiful welcome. After being gone for nearly twenty-four hours, she’d expected a fistfight.
“It’s for you, ma.” He got up and stood in front of her and took her hands in his. When she saw all the love dancing in his eyes, she felt sick for what she’d done. “I heard what happened at the club, so I figured you could use a warm welcome. I
divided the kids up between my sisters for the night, so it’s just us.” Before Boots could even react, Bernie kissed her. As his tongue danced around hers, she could taste whatever he’d been drinking mixed with the foulness of Happy’s semen.
“Baby,” Boots broke the embrace before she accidentally threw up in his mouth, “what do you mean you heard what happened at the club; how?”
“Happy told me,” he said. Boots wanted to faint, but there was more. “He told me how that drunken-ass Tracy started a fight in the club and all of y’all ended up getting arrested for it. I told you about hanging with her, she can’t hold her liquor.”
“When did you speak to Happy?” Boots asked, still trying to make heads or tails of everything.
“This morning; he said you asked him to call me just before they took you,” he said as if she should’ve already known this.
“He did, did he?” Boots was numb.
“Yeah, and the fly shit is that we got to talking and he said he’s gonna put me down with this lick he got lined up, so we’ll be straight in a minute. I was thinking you could give me a little to celebrate.” He tried to pull her close but she pulled away.
“Chill. I’ve been in jail all night, so let me go wash this stink off and then we can get at it, boo.” She was making her way to the bathroom.
“When I get this money, ima buy you a fly engagement ring, Boots, courtesy of Happy. Yo, Happy is a good muthafucka!”
“He’s a muthafucka alright,” Boots said before slamming the bathroom door.
CHAPTER 24
Tracy was just about to turn it in for the night when she got the phone call. It seemed that she had left a more lasting impression on Remo than she’d given herself credit for, and he was requesting an audience with her. After taking down the directions to his apartment, Tracy took a quick shower and hopped into a cab.
Remo lived in a run-down section of the Bronx that had yet to be touched by the gentrification that the rest of the city had undergone. He met her downstairs and paid for the cab before leading her into the ratty walk-up apartment building. From the cracked walls and the stench of urine, Tracy began to wonder if coming to Remo’s place had been a good idea after all. Thankfully, Remo’s apartment looked nothing like the rest of the building. It was clean and carpeted from wall to wall. The furniture was beautiful and there were all the latest in modern amenities throughout the place. Tracy could see that Remo was doing well for himself.
“I’m glad you came,” he said once Tracy was inside the apartment.
“Me, too; I needed to get off the block for a while,” she said, admiring his apartment.
“You want something to drink?” he called from his minibar, where he was pouring himself some tequila.
“You know I do; I’ll have what you’re having,” she called back.
“Bet, I got some tequila but it ain’t Patrón.” He held up the bottle for her to inspect.
“I’m a guest in your crib: I ain’t complaining.”
Remo came back over holding two shot glasses and the bottle, which he set on the table. “Won’t you join me?” he said, getting comfortable on the plush leather couch.
“But of course.” Tracy sat next to him. She almost felt like she was going to sink through the soft leather and hit the floor. “I see you’re doing well for yourself,” she said, accepting her shot.
“I do okay for myself,” he said modestly.
“You always did like fly shit, Remo. Seeing you at the club brought back so many memories.” She threw her shot back.
“Same old Tracy,” he mused.
“You know I ain’t changed since the Roof Top days, Remo.”
“So I see. You do you remember when that used to be the official baller spot?”
“Do I! I met my baby daddy in there!” Tracy recalled.
“I was supposed to be your baby daddy.” Remo moved closer to her.
“Remo, you and I both know that your ass is scared to death of commitment. You loved the streets more than you’ve ever loved a woman, which is probably why you stayed locked up back in the days.”
“I was getting it in on the streets, ma, you know that. But the days of me going up north for petty shit are over. My nephew really set me up with this bodyguard work,” Remo said.
“Fucking with Don B., I know your hands stay full, that boy is a hot mess. And speaking off messes, thanks for getting us out of that situation last night.”
“It was only right, y’all was with us when it happened. Besides, that cat was talking reckless. If the police hadn’t come, I’d have finished him off. Who the fuck was that nigga anyway? I’ve seen him uptown, but as far as I know he ain’t a player in the game.”
“His name is Happy and he’s one of Tionna’s old pieces,” Tracy said, as if he were a nobody.
“He didn’t look too happy to me when the ol’ girl started shitting on him.”
“You know some niggaz don’t know how to let go when you put it on them real good.” She jabbed him with her finger.
“Girl, you tripping; your shot was alright, but hardly worth me holding on to the memory ten years later. Shit, your walls are probably all torn out after all this time,” he teased her.
“Nigga, please, I still got that snap-back cat, you better ask somebody!”
“Yo, remember when we used to meet up after the club for our little freak sessions?” Remo reminisced.
“Yeah, back when you used to come scoop me in your little Suzuki jeep,” she recalled. “We used to get coked out of our brains and fuck until the sun came up. You used to keep some good-ass blow.”
“I still do,” he said, producing a cigar box from under the couch. When he flipped the top back, it looked like the sky had opened up and snowed inside. Tracy could feel her mouth getting moist. “Do you still get down?” He rolled a dollar bill into a tube while he watched her for a reaction. The way her eyes stayed glued to the coke said it all.
“I bump a little something every now and again.” She smiled nervously. The shit she sniffed was everyday shit you could get in the hood, but she could tell by from the brightness of it, Remo had some fire.
“Then why don’t we really kick this party up.” Remo scooped out a healthy dose of the coke and started chopping it into lines with a playing card. He cleared two lines before sinking back into the couch like he’d been frozen in the middle of a brilliant idea. With trembling hands she took the dollar bill from him and did a line.
When the coke hit Tracy’s sinuses it felt like she had snorted glass and the back of her eyeballs were being shredded. “God damn, what’d you cut this shit with?” she said in between sneezes.
“Cut?” He looked at her glassy-eyed. “Tracy, you know I don’t fuck with nothing cut. I gotta feel it when it hits me.” He took the dollar back and cleared another line. “Go ahead and treat your nose, ma, I’ve got plenty of this shit.” He handed her the dollar bill back.
Tracy sat on the couch sniffing coke until her whole face was numb. True to his word, Remo had some boss coke and was very generous with it. Her heart was beating at a hundred miles per minute and the sweat running down her back felt like fingers of ice. To say she was wasted would be an understatement. Tracy was a fair-weather sniffer, never copping more than a half to a whole gram at a time, but she had easily snorted three times that in her one sitting with Remo. Remo didn’t look like he was feeling much pain either, staring at the ember at the end of his cigarette as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
“I feel like I just took my head out of the freezer.” Tracy ran her hands over her face, trying to generate some type of heat. She ran her fingers through the leftover powder on the glass coffee table and traced the finger over her gums. “Damn, I ain’t flew this high in a long time, baby.” She stretched.
“Oh, it gets better.” Remo snuggled next to her and started kissing her neck. His hand wandered down the front of her blouse and fondled her right breast.
“So, now I see why you calle
d me over here, you just wanted some ass.” She ran her hands over his scarred bald head. Remo’s hands were rough, but comforting since she hadn’t felt the touch of a man in a while.
“You know I’m hot for you.” Remo shoveled a pinky nail full of powder into his nostril. He redipped the pinky nail and treated Tracy’s nose. “I’ve been thinking about this pussy since 1998.” He fumbled with his pants until he was able to free his penis. It was just as long and thick as she remembered.
“I haven’t seen this in a while.” She ran her hands along the smooth shaft. “Now, what could you possibly expect me to do with all this?” She stroked him to a stiff erection. In answer to her question, Remo rubbed a healthy amount of coke on his dick.
“Go for what you know,” he breathed in her ear. Remo placed his hand gently behind her head and guided it to his lap. When Tracy’s mouth made contact with his dick, it took Remo back to hot summer days of playing in the fire hydrant on the avenue. Her nimble tongue played around the rim of his dick, before taking the length of him into her throat, causing the big man to gasp and pull her away.
“What’s the matter, you can’t take it?” She stroked him more aggressively, looking into his eyes the whole time. With the trail of saliva leading from her bottom lip to his glistening penis, she reminded him of a porn star.
“I almost forgot how good you were, girl,” he said, panting.
“It’s only gonna get better.” She stood up and began peeling her clothes off. The years and gravity had touched Tracy’s body, but she was still nice to look at, with her full breasts and nice hips. Her stomach bore stretch marks, but didn’t sag as much as he’d expected it to. Pushing Remo back against the couch, she straddled his lap and slipped him inside her dripping pussy. She had barely gotten into her rhythm when she saw his bottom lip began to quiver. “You better not.” She slapped him across the face. “You can cum when I tell you to.”
“Damn, you always were into some rough shit.” He rubbed his cheek.
