Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 3

by J. M. Benjamin

  “You know how to ride?” Treacherous asked her.

  She smiled and hopped on the bike. The next sound that was heard was Baby’s new bike roaring. She revved the engine and said, “Follow me.”

  Treacherous jogged over to the bike they had ridden in on and started it up. Side by side they whizzed out of the Super 8 motel parking lot and back on to Interstate 95.

  Chapter 21

  “Goddamn it,” Andre Randle cursed as he tripped over an object on his living room floor and stumbled into his two-bedroom home. He used the wall to catch his balance. He slid his hand along it in search of the light switch. Moments later, his living room was illuminated. The first thing he saw was the object that had nearly caused him to fall.

  “Goal!” he yelled as he kicked his shoe over into the corner like a professional football punter. After nearly losing his balance for a second time, Andre staggered over to the couch and plopped all 212 pounds of him onto it. It was a miracle he had made it home in one piece after throwing back six shots of tequila and four Budweisers at the local bar. Since he had retired, every night had been a miracle for him. He chuckled at the thought of being pulled over by a police officer and asked to take a sobriety test or, even worse, charged with DUI.

  Andre reached underneath himself and retrieved the remote control that had poked him in his rear the moment he sat down and turned on his sixty-inch flat screen. His five-year-old black-and-white terrier named Mutt came waddling out of the kitchen and jumped up on the sofa and found a resting spot next to the ex-chief. Andre flicked through the television channels until he found a local news station. Then, he got up and made his way to the kitchen.

  He pulled out the pitcher of water from the fridge and drank nearly half of the water out of the container, stopping only when he got a brain freeze. He, then, grabbed the two remaining slices of pepperoni pizza out of the Papa John’s box, slapped them on a plate, and tossed them into the microwave. Andre leaned over on the kitchen counter and grabbed hold of his head as the pizza warmed. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to have a splitting headache in the morning. The beeping sound of the microwave woke him out of his brief nod. He took a bite of one of the slices. Then, he made his way back over to the sofa.

  “Anything interesting happen, boy?” he asked Mutt before he turned his attention to the television.

  The background of the reporter caught Andre’s eye and caused him to increase the volume.

  “Richmond authorities are working on getting us photos of the two patients. No word, as of yet, as to why they acted out so violently before their escape, but we will bring you more details as this story unfolds.”

  “Christ, just what we need, more crazy muthafuckas on the loose,” Andre said out loud. He laughed at his own joke and switched the channel.

  Chapter 22

  Treacherous stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He used a second towel to wipe the water from his newly clean-shaven head. A shower was just what the doctor ordered, he thought, feeling refreshed after all that had happened. The motel was far from a five-star establishment, but it served its purpose. He and Baby were able to find a place to lay their heads and take hot showers for as long as their money allowed without needing any ID and no questions asked.

  Although he had no remorse, the incident was still fresh in his mind. He was unaware of the amount of blood that had sprayed on him until he watched it run off his body and disappear down the drain. Treacherous couldn’t wait to put on a pair of the brand new boxer briefs, one of the wife beaters, and one of the outfits he had purchased during his and Baby’s stop at Walmart before they checked into the motel. Walmart wasn’t his preferred place to shop, but, under the circumstances, he knew his options were limited. Besides, the outfits he had copped there were an improvement from the hand-me-down clothes he was forced to wear at the mental hospital.

  “That felt good,” he announced, snatching the hand towel off his head.

  Baby didn’t answer. She was too engrossed in what she was doing. She lay stretched out across one of the double beds on her stomach with her legs crossed in the air. She was wearing a white tee, and she was reading.

  “What the hell you doin’?” Treacherous asked, snatching the notebooks and envelope away from her.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked. His reaction had surprised her.

  “Why you reading my shit?” His words were strong. She could tell he was upset.

  “I didn’t think you’d mind,” Baby offered. “I . . . I’m sorry.” She knew what it was like to be violated by another or have one’s privacy invaded. She instantly regretted her decision.

  Her apology calmed Treacherous, and he felt bad. Seeing Baby lying there, reading his mother’s notebooks, had caught him off guard, and he’d reacted without thinking. “It’s okay,” he retorted, putting the notebooks back into the manila envelope.

  “I really am sorry. I didn’t—”

  “I said it’s cool,” Treacherous assured her.

  Baby caught his signature grin and knew everything was fine. She also caught the rips and indentions in his midriff. Baby couldn’t take her eyes off of Treacherous’s handsome physique. He was cut and had muscles everywhere. Baby was an arms woman, but she admired the fact that Treacherous had the total package. She liked the way his traps sat behind but just above his broad shoulder blades, while his chest was thick and stood at attention like he was in the military. She couldn’t help but watch as beads of water slid down his chest and eight pack like a slide on a playground. The sight had Baby mesmerized as the water danced its way down Treacherous’s abs until landing on the top of his towel.

  “Huh?” Treacherous’s voice broke the spell the water and his abs had momentarily cast on Baby.

  “I said what’s wrong with you?” Treacherous repeated.

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “I need a shower,” she added, rolling over and off the bed.

  Treacherous couldn’t help but notice how firm Baby’s inner thighs were. The hiking of the tee gave him a full view between her legs and a partial view of her ass cheeks. The gap between them allowed him to see straight to the bathroom. Treacherous watched in awe as Baby’s firm cheeks bounced underneath the tee one after the other. When she reached the bathroom door, Baby spun around. Treacherous turned his head and looked around the room at nothing in particular. She walked back over to him.

  “I should’ve asked,” Baby said, placing her hand on Treacherous’s arm. “You’ll never have to worry about something like that again.” She moved her hand up to the side of his face. “I promise.”

  “I believe you.” Treacherous stared into her eyes. He could see the truth all in them.

  Baby slid her hand from Treacherous’s face down to his chest and leaned in. She kissed Treacherous on the cheek. Then, she made her way to the shower. Treacherous turned and watched for a second time as Baby sashayed her way to the bathroom. The front of his towel rose as his dick stiffened from the sight. He sat on the bed and ran his hand across his smooth head. He let it run down his face as a glimpse of his life flashed before his eyes. He was unsure of what the future held for him, but he knew he was sure of one thing: he wanted it to include Baby.

  Chapter 23

  Jazmyne Love stood in front of her sister’s gravesite and pulled off her Dior sunglasses. She bent down. Then, she took the bouquet of flowers she held in her hand and placed them in front of the tombstone. It had been nearly six months since she had visited the site. A sense of guilt swept through her. She couldn’t believe she had allowed so much time to elapse. Had it not been for the mentioning of her daughter’s name, Jazmyne knew she would not have come to Jazelle’s grave and had no clue as to how much more time would have passed before she came and paid her respects.

  The thought of it caused Jazmyne to resent her daughter even more. It was because of her daughter that her sister was no longer alive. It had been over two years, and Jazmyne had not come to t
erms with the whole ordeal yet. The incident was still fresh in her mind. It was the memory that kept her up at night and in tears for the first four months after her sister’s death. She was still trying to convince herself that there was nothing she could have done to prevent it and that it was not her fault. Tears rolled down Jazmyne Love’s face, staining her perfectly applied makeup. She rummaged through her clutch and pulled out a handkerchief.

  “Hey, Jaz,” she spoke through sniffles. She dabbed her face with the handkerchief. “I know it’s been awhile, and you’re probably mad at me. I’m sorry.” She paused. “I am so sorry,” she repeated, “for everything.” She shook her head and became choked up. Then, she cleared her throat and said, “I still can’t believe you’re gone. If I could turn back the hands of time, there’s nothing else in the world that I would want to redo other than bring you back and . . .”

  Jazmyne put her head down. She cleared her throat for the second time and said, “Anyway, none of this should have ever happened. I miss you so much. I can’t believe that little bitch took you from me.” Jazmyne’s pressure began to rise. “If it weren’t for Art, I would’ve pressed for the death penalty for her ass, daughter or not.” Jazmyne tried to calm herself. “Now, her ass is running around on the loose, and there’s no telling what she may do next.” The thought gave Jazmyne an eerie feeling.

  “Even though you were my little sister, you always had my back, right, wrong, or indifferent, no matter what, and I should’ve had yours. I’ve asked myself over and over why I didn’t react sooner or why I didn’t see it coming. I guess I was in denial.” Jazmyne closed her eyes tightly. “Please forgive me,” she cried. “None of this should have ever happened,” she repeated. Jazmyne pressed two fingers to her lips and kissed them. Then, she touched the top of her sister’s tombstone. “I love you, sis. I have to go.”

  Jazmyne Love spun around and walked back to her car just as the levies of her eyes broke and flooded her face.

  Chapter 24

  A week later

  “You sure this is where you saw him?” Treacherous asked Baby as the two of them sat on the latest bike they had jacked.

  “I’m positive,” Baby replied.

  “And you sure it was him?”

  “Nigga, in all the time you’ve known me, have you ever seen me wear glasses?”

  Treacherous laughed. He had become used to her smart remarks and sarcasm in the time they had been rolling and living together.

  “Not that I can remember,” he answered. He knew what was to follow.

  “Well, then, you know my vision is perfect.”

  “One day, your smart mouth is going to get you hurt.” Treacherous laughed, shaking his head.

  “And you’re going to kill the muthafucka who hurt me,” she shot back.

  He looked back at her.

  “What? I said something wrong?”

  “Not at all.” Treacherous smiled.

  “Look.” Baby pointed.

  When Treacherous turned around and saw the person Baby was pointing at, his eyes grew cold. He couldn’t believe his luck. The last time he had seen this person the terms were different and the situation had left a bad taste in his mouth. Now, all bets were off, and the only thing that stood in the way of him settling the score was the air he breathed.

  Baby had told him how the house down the street from North Jackson Ward housing projects was in a known drug area and rough neighborhood, but that didn’t mean anything to Treacherous. If a drug house was where he would have to get his revenge for the disrespect the person had displayed the last time they laid eyes on each other, then so be it. There was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity.

  “Told you.” Baby nudged him.

  “I never doubted you.”

  “You want to wait until he comes out, or you want to go up in there?” Baby asked.

  “We not waitin’ on nothin’,” Treacherous replied. His temperature had already begun to rise. “We goin’ up in there.”

  “Whatever you want to do,” Baby replied.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I wanna do,” Treacherous said, hopping off the motorcycle.

  “Man, T-Bop, all the retarded be comin’ up outta you when you hit that shit,” Doug joked as he watched his get high partner take a hit of the crack he had just purchased from their connect up the block.

  “Fuck you, nigga,” T-Bop stammered. His mouth twitched as he spoke. The drug had already taken effect. He used to stutter when he was nervous, but he had overcome that long ago. Now, he only stuttered when he got high.

  T-Bop took another hit of the pipe. Doug laughed at his friend’s reply as he always did. The two had been friends since they were kids. They went back as far as quarter waters and grilled government cheese sandwiches when they both lived in the projects. Their mothers had been get high partners. Doug meant no harm with his joke, and he knew T-Bop knew that. When they were younger, it was Doug who had actually defended T-Bop when the other kids picked on him for being in remedial classes and stuttering occasionally.

  The euphoric feeling of the narcotics caused T-Bop to lean back on the sofa and look up to the ceiling. He smiled as images of him as a kid before the drugs played on the wall of the apartment.

  “Hey, T! Hey, Momma!” T-Bop laughed as he waved at himself and his mother on the ceiling. He watched as she fixed his favorite blue bowtie. She had made him wear it to school every Monday. Then, she would give him a hug as the school bus driver waited and the kids on the bus all laughed.

  The scene changed from T-Bop standing in front of the bus to him standing in front of the judge at age thirteen while his mother stood in the background. Her hair was wild. Her eyes resembled a raccoon’s, and her clothes were dingy. She pleaded with the courts not to take her child away from her. As always, the scene brought tears to T-Bop’s eyes.

  “No! Please!” T-Bop yelled out.

  He covered his face to prevent himself from watching the scene any longer. He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. The drug had him bugging. T-Bop’s smile returned. He was where he wanted to be: high. That feeling immediately faded when the unexpected impact of the blow to his face caught him by surprise.

  “What the hell!” he bellowed, grabbing hold of his head.

  He sat up, erect and alert. The blow was enough to sober him up. When he opened his eyes, he saw the male figure with a gun pointed at his face, while a female had Doug on his knees with one pointed to the back of his head.

  “What the fuck is going on?” T-Bop stuttered, still rubbing the spot on his head where he was assaulted.

  “Read any good magazines lately?” Treacherous asked rather than answering T-Bop’s question.

  A confused look appeared on T-Bop’s face.

  “Remember us?” Baby asked T-Bop.

  “Naw,” he answered quickly. Ever since he had started getting high, he didn’t remember much of anything.

  “Sure you do,” Treacherous stated. “How could you forget somebody you used to like and somebody you used to disrespect?”

  T-Bop had no clue what Treacherous was talking about, but, at that point, he had nearly sobered up completely. He looked back and forth from Treacherous to Baby. The familiarity slowly set in.

  “Treach? Baby?”

  “I knew you weren’t that slow, nigga,” Treacherous slyly remarked. Baby remained stone-faced.

  “Man, what are y’all doin’ here?” T-Bop hadn’t felt that nervous since he was in grade school, long before he had taken on a life of crime. Treacherous’s earlier statement now made sense to him.

  “Don’t get stupid on me now, Tony,” Treacherous said, calling T-Bop by his birth name.

  He reflected on the last time he had seen Treacherous and Baby, when they were all residents at the mental hospital. He remembered the day he had tried to play Treacherous out in front of Baby over the magazine because he had liked Baby. He instantly regretted it, seeing the predicament he was now faced with, especially after recalling what
they had done to the orderlies and a nurse at the hospital before they broke out. Beads of sweat formed on Tony’s forehead.

  “Man, I didn’t mean no disrespect back then. I was sick!” Tony stuttered, pleading his case.

  “I’m sure you were,” Baby snarled.

  “Yo, T-Bop, what the fuck is going on, dawg?” a confused Doug asked. He, too, had sobered up behind the fact that he was on his knees with a gun pointed to the back of his head.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Baby said as she gave him a warning nudge in the back of the head with her revolver. Baby was growing tired of the situation and was ready to go. Out of nowhere, she began to sweat.

  “What can I do to make this right?” T-Bop asked, directing his question to Treacherous.

  Treacherous shook his head and smirked. “You wanna know what you can do?”

  T-Bop nodded his head rapidly.

  “You can start by apologizing to me and my girl,” Treacherous offered.

  “Yo! I’m fuckin’ sorry! I swear to freakin’ God! I’m sorry!” T-Bop exclaimed. His hands were now folded in a prayer position.

  “You should be, muthafucka!” Treacherous rushed over to the couch and was on top of Tony with his .38 shoved in his mouth. He had to hold his breath because of the foul odor that reeked from Tony. A combination of piss, bad breath, musk, and drug residue assaulted Treacherous’s nostrils. Tony’s eyes resembled that of a goldfish as he begged for his life inaudibly.

  “Shut your bitch ass up,” Treacherous growled, shoving the barrel deeper into Tony’s mouth.

  “Damn, man! Don’t kill ’im,” Doug pleaded for his friend.

  “I told you to shut the fuck up!” Baby roared.

  She let loose a thunderous shot into the back of Doug’s head. Doug’s body fell forward to the floor. Tony cried out as loud as he could as he made a failed attempt to push Treacherous up off of him, but the bullet Treacherous force fed him ceased all movement.