“Lay Lay!” he called again.
“What?” Lay Lay said, finally making her way to the bedroom. She was wearing a peach and white T-shirt and shorts pajama set with her hair tied up in a scarf. She cut her eyes at the man in her bed and put her hand on her hip. “Why do you keep hollering my name?”
“Because I want you to come give me some of that good lovin’!” he said, giving her a sly smile. “Come on over here, girl, and let me do some thangs to ya.”
Lay Lay rolled her eyes and shook her head. The entire room smelled like alcohol, and she could tell that he hadn’t taken a shower. The last thing she wanted to do was put her mouth on a dirty man, and she let him know that.
“Dumphy, get up out of my bed with those dirty clothes on. I just washed the covers yesterday! And if you want me to do anything to you, you could at least have the decency to be clean. What kind of a woman do you think I am?”
Before she could hear his answer, she left the room again, going back to the wine she was sipping in the kitchen. Her mind was clouded, and she just wanted to be alone right then, but of course, that was too much like right for Dumphy. He followed right after her and was on her heels in seconds. He tried to grab her arm, but she snatched away and took her seat at the kitchen table.
“You still mad because your grown-ass daughter finally moved out? Is that why I can’t get no pussy?”
“You can’t get no pussy because I’m not letting no dirty-dick-ass man run up in me! Now please, go shower or something. I just want to be left alone.”
“Nah.” Dumphy shook his head and slammed the fifth of Hennessy he had in his hand down on the wooden table. “This is about that little bitch! Ever since she walked out of here, you’ve been in this funky-ass mood!”
“Well, you didn’t have to talk to her like that!” Lay Lay finally shouted what she’d been thinking. “And don’t call my daughter a bitch!”
When Ava first packed her things and drove off, Lay Lay only let her go because she was sure her baby girl would come home the next day. Well, she didn’t; and Lay Lay hadn’t received so much as a phone call. The more and more she thought about it, Ava had been right, and as she looked at Dumphy standing before her, all she saw was a sorry excuse for a man. She was ashamed that she had put him above the one person in the world who truly cared about her. “She is my daughter, and all you’ve done is disrespect her in her own home!” Lay Lay was suddenly boiling. “And how the hell do you have money for alcohol but ‘that little bitch,’ as you called her, was the one who had to pay the light bill? How do you have a fuckin’ bottle of Hennessy, but you couldn’t pay your car note?”
“Who the hell are you talkin’ to, bitch?” Dumphy asked, towering over her in a threatening stance.
“You!” Lay Lay growled, standing back to her feet. She wrapped her skinny fingers around the wine bottle and prepared to use it if she had to. “I was going to tell you to give me my money back, but you know what? I just want you out of my damn house. Get out before I call the police on your dirty, no-good ass. Get all your shit and go!”
Dumphy looked at her dumbfounded, and without moving right away. He glared at her and contemplated his next move. The alcohol coursing through his system was screaming for him to knock her head off her shoulders, but that would have been a bad move on his part. She’d said one word, though, that seemed to sober him up a bit: police.
“You’re gonna regret this,” he said finally and stepped away from her.
Angrily, he went back to the bedroom so that he could get his duffle bag from the highest shelf in her closet. He stuffed all that he could into it and figured that she could do what she wanted with the rest. He could buy himself some new things with all the money he had now.
After the bag was securely shut and on his shoulder, he headed to the front door of the house. Lay Lay followed close behind him as he trudged down the stairs, and she waited for him to twist the knob.
“And don’t come back, you sorry motherfucka!” she said as he swung the door open with force.
“Don’t worry, he won’t.”
The voice caught Lay Lay by surprise because it was one that she didn’t recognize. Standing on her doorstep were two men she’d never seen in her life. One was just under six feet tall, muscular, and dressed trendy like the kids Ava’s age; and one was short, big, and bulky. They both had backpacks on, and their faces held the same distasteful expression at the sight of Dumphy. Lay Lay could tell he knew who they were by the sudden fear that washed over his face, but it didn’t register with her that they were very bad people. All she wanted was for Dumphy to get out so she could get back to her Moscato, and when she spoke, attitude drenched her voice. “And who are you?”
“How rude of me,” the man said. “Let me introduce myself. I am Dorian, and my big friend here is Preston. We were just about to knock on your door, but it seems that you brought us who we were looking for. What’s up, Dumphy? Long time no see.”
His eyes pierced into Dumphy’s, and the fire burning in them made it obvious that he hadn’t come in peace. Whatever it was that Dumphy had gotten himself into, Lay Lay wanted no part of it.
“Dorian!” Dumphy stuttered. “What’s good, my man? I was just on my way to King Dex’s now. I have some things that I need to explain to him.”
“Hmm, is that right?” Dorian asked, sucking his teeth and then looking to the man beside him. “I could have sworn we just heard his woman about to put him out. Or are my ears going bad?”
“Nah, boss.” Preston’s voice came out as a wheeze, most likely because he was so fat. “That’s what I heard too.”
“I thought so.” Dorian turned back to Dumphy. “I don’t like when people lie to me. You were close with a man named Edward Franklin, correct? He’s swimming with the fishes now. King Dex doesn’t take kindly to people stealing from him. Where is the fifty thousand dollars?”
Dumphy hadn’t talked to his old friend for a few days, but now he knew why. At first, anger set in because Edward was the one who had access to the money and he never told Dumphy how to get it. But then terror hit him, and he wondered how Dorian and his henchman were able to track him down. Somebody must have talked and told them where he was. He tried to take a step back into the house, but Lay Lay’s palms pushing on his back stopped him.
“Dumphy, whatever you have going on, you need to do it away from here,” Lay Lay said. “All of you, get the hell away from my house.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Dorian said and brandished a silver 9 mm pistol from his waist. He waved it toward the door, motioning for them to get back inside of the house. “Not until one of you tells me where the money is.”
Lay Lay gasped, and her heart instantly dropped to the pit of her stomach. “Dumphy, tell him where the money is.” Lay Lay grabbed Dumphy’s arm and shook him violently. The sight of the gun had terrified her, and something inside told her that it had been used many times before. When he said nothing, she shook him even harder. “Dumphy, tell him where the money is, you son of a bitch!”
“I don’t know where it is,” Dumphy said, moving his head from side to side. “Edward never told me.”
“I think you do know where it is, but you just don’t want to tell me.” Dorian nodded his head at Preston, giving him a silent signal. “I, however, think I can get the information up out of you.”
Before Lay Lay could scream and signal to one of her neighbors to call the police, she was getting thrown back inside of her house. Dumphy flew back too, and then Dorian stepped in, shutting the door behind him.
“It’s such a shame that you got such a beautiful woman tied up in your mess,” Dorian said, kneeling and stroking the side of Lay Lay’s smooth face. “Now she has to pay too. Take her upstairs, Preston. Preferably to a place where there is no carpet. Things may get a little messy.”
With mighty hands, Preston grabbed Lay Lay’s hair and head scarf as well as her upper arm so that he could drag her up the stairs. When she began to scream
and try to twist away from him, he shook her violently and punched her hard in the face.
“Shut up, bitch!” he said and hit her again. Blood leaked from her nose, and both of her lips were busted. He went to hit her again, but Dorian’s voice stopped him.
“Enough,” Dorian told him with a raised eye. “We still need her coherent.”
“My bad, boss,” Preston said. “My baby moms been tripping on me lately. I just needed a release of frustration.”
“Well, take it out on this piece of shit then,” Dorian said, kicking Dumphy, who was curled up at his feet, in the ribs. “Tie them up. I have a feeling this is going to be a long, bloody night.”
Chapter 4
The night was going better than Ava could have ever expected. It had been so long since she was able to just let loose, and it felt good. Vy opened a tab for the two of them, and Ava was feeling like she was on cloud nine. She danced the night away in the dark club and let the waves coming from the loud speakers direct her body. It seemed as if the entire club had come together in one big party. There were no girls hating on the next, nor was there any beef between the men. Everything was just—
“Lit!” Blane yelled, coming over to join Ava and Vy on the dance floor. In his hand, he had an open bottle of champagne, and he poured swigs into both of their mouths before he too drank some more. “This club is live as hell, boy! All the fine bitches are out tonight!”
“Keep fuckin’ with them ‘bitches’ and you’re going to end up with fleas!” Vy shouted over the music.
“I ain’t got none yet! So fuck it!”
Vy rolled her eyes at him and turned to Ava, who was still dancing. “Girl, I have to use the bathroom. Make sure this fool doesn’t do anything stupid. The last time we went out, he tried to push up on a chick while her man was standing right beside her. I’m not trying to fight the whole club again behind his thirstiness!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. The bitch was lookin’ like a snack, and I like snacks!” he said, winking.
When Vy walked away, Ava was left standing next to a prowling Blane. She watched him crash and burn as he tried to get the attention of several of the girls who walked by them. Although he had terrible pickup lines, she had to give him props for his relentlessness. After a pretty, chocolate girl mean-mugged him for commenting on her body, Ava had finally had enough.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m choosing!” He added a little dance with his last word.
“Blane.” She paused to laugh but quickly regained her wits. “Blane! You have some of the corniest pickup lines I have ever heard. You remind me of that one creepy uncle at a black barbecue. I heard you tell a girl, ‘You remind me of my favorite gum: chewable!’”
“You didn’t like that?” Blane put a hand on his chest and pretended to be offended. “That’s one of my best lines, girl!”
“That might have worked in the Eighties, but this ain’t the Eighties! These are grown-ass ‘half woke’ women. They appreciate a man with intellect. So, try a different approach.”
“Like?”
“Like complimenting her outfit without mentioning her body. Or go out to the dance floor and start fucking it up! Girls love men who can dance and know how to have a good time. Stop going to them, and let them gravitate to you.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Lil Uzi Vert’s song “Money Longer” began blasting through the speakers of the club. It must have been Blane’s song, because within seconds he was gone and in the middle of the dance floor. She watched him turn the whole club up with his dance moves, and she was about to go out there and join him, but a voice stopped her.
“You a counselor or something?”
Ava turned around and found herself looking up into the most complex set of brown eyes. They were beautiful, but their gaze intimidated her. They belonged to a smooth, chocolate-skinned man who towered over her like a basketball player. He had to be at least six feet tall, and he wore his hair cut in a short, tapered fade. His jawbone was square, but she could tell that with a full-on smile he would have defined cheekbones. His full lips curved slightly as he watched her study him, and she wanted to answer him, but she wasn’t done admiring his body. He was outfitted in simple clothing: a pair of Levi’s, a white Ralph Lauren T-shirt with a red Polo logo, and a fresh pair of Chicago 13s.
“No, I’m not a counselor,” she said finally. “But, you’re fine as hell so, if you want, I can counsel you.” She usually wasn’t that forward, but the liquor gave her a dose of liquid courage that she would never have had if she were sober. She gazed at him with bedroom eyes and returned his small smirk.
“Thank you.” He responded to her fearlessness with a chuckle. “I appreciate the compliment.”
“You’re welcome . . .”
“Glizzy,” he answered.
“Glizzy?” she repeated out loud, trying to figure out why his name sounded so familiar. When she couldn’t put a finger on it, she pushed the sounding bell to the back of her mind. “Nice to meet you. I’m . . . I’m Cinderella.”
She wasn’t sure why she said that, and the look on his face showed that he was just as confused as she was inwardly.
“Cinderella?”
“Yes.” She winked at him. “By the end of the night, if I still like you, I’ll tell you my real name.”
“Well, Cinderella, have a drink with me.”
It wasn’t a question; it was a request to which Ava had no objection. He took her soft hand in his and led her to the bar, where he ordered them a few shots of tequila. Ava was already on her level and, after they took the first shot, he gave the other two to a couple sitting at the bar beside them.
“What did you do that for?” Ava asked, slightly upset. “You think I can’t handle my liquor?”
“Chill. I didn’t say all that,” he said and then turned his head with a smile. “But you are pretty fucked up right now.”
Ava’s laugh came from her belly and left her mouth. She playfully swatted Glizzy on the arm and shook her head. “You’re right. I am really fucked up right now. I’ve been mixing dark with light all night like a damn fool.”
“Never a fool, mama; just a woman looking to have a good time. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”
“Well, that’s the truth. I had a long week,” she said, not knowing why she was being so loose at the lips. Everything was just weighing on her shoulders, and she needed an outlet badly. “I really needed this.”
She spotted Vy a ways away on the dance floor with Londa and Nique. When Vy finally looked Ava’s way, instantly her eyes went to Glizzy and then to Ava. She raised her eyebrow and mouthed, “What’s going on?” Before Ava could mouth anything back, Glizzy’s Southern accent sounded in her ear.
“If you need to be drunk to balance out your lows then, I agree, it must have been one hell of a week. Tell me about it.”
“You don’t really want to know. You’re just asking to be nice. We can talk about something else. Like where you’re from. That isn’t a Nebraskan accent you have.”
“You’re right, it’s not. I’m from Houston. I just moved out here last year to be closer to my father. That’s not what we were talkin’ about, though. I understand we just met, but one thing you need to know about me is that I don’t ask questions I don’t want to know the answer to. Now, speak up.”
There was something about his demanding demeanor that turned Ava on. His eyes were locked on hers, and the look on his face was genuine. Maybe he wasn’t faking the funk. A man like him didn’t need to lie to kick it. He was so fine that with a simple hello he could take home any woman in that club.
“Okay.” She sighed. “Well, first, my mom and I had an argument. She has this boyfriend, and he just uses her. He doesn’t pay any of the bills, and I kept having to pick up their slack. It was just too much, and that last fight was the worst. I packed all my shit and left. Haven’t talked to her since.”
“Okay, and what else?”
; “How do you know there is something else?”
“Because we all fight with our parents. That ain’t nothing to really sweat. That’s your mom. She is never going to just turn her back on you, even if you do feel like she’s putting her man over you right now. She’ll come around. Don’t even trip off of that. Now, what else is weighing on your brain?”
She thought about telling him that she’d lost her job earlier that day, but she changed her mind at the last minute. She didn’t want him to know that she was staying in a hotel and that she didn’t have a clue what she was going to do about money now. No. She didn’t want the image, whatever image, he had of her to be tainted by a woman who needed a handout. So, instead, she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.
“That was it. We just have never fought like that before.” She averted her eyes back to the dance floor.
She wasn’t a good liar, and it was obvious that Glizzy didn’t believe a word she said, but he didn’t press her. “Yeah, a’ight. Whatever you say,” he said and grabbed her hand to force her to face him. “Dance with me.”
“What?”
“We don’t have much time left to get lost in each other, and I really would like to know your name. So, will you dance with me?”
“Lead the way, Prince Charming.”
Ava and Glizzy made their way to the middle of the dance floor. It was like the area they chose instantly cleared, and the only two who mattered were them. They danced to the sound of Trey Songz’s voice, and whenever she tried to push away from him, he pulled her back.
“Why do you keep running from me?” he asked with his lips to her ear.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember the last time I did this.”
Hood Tales, Volume 1 Page 4
