by Nikki Turner
“That’s right,” Bunny moaned. “Fuck da shit out dis pussy, baby!” She pushed her ass back at him, matching his thrusts as if it was an orchestrated dance.
Spoe welcomed the challenge, by upping the intensity. The two to them had been together for years and years of practice had made Spoe the perfect lover. He knew her every erogenous spot, and she knew his. Bunny thought to herself, no one had ever made her body perform the way Spoe made it feel.
Bunny’s eyes were rolling in the back of her head, toes spread and curling, when the phone rang. By the sound of the ringtone, Spoe knew it was Tariq. He also knew that as much as he and Bunny were having, it was time to shut it down.
“Fuckkkkk! Baby! That’s Tariq,” he said and started stroking hard and intense. “Sorry baby.”
Business was business and that was it.
Spoe needed to get the remainder of the now wet money counted and divided before his partner arrived.
Bunny understood that but right now there was no way she was going to let him go until she got hers. “Uah.” Spoe tensed up when she stuck her finger in his butt, then relaxed. This wasn’t his first rodeo and Bunny knew the pressure on his rectum would make him cum quicker, she was already there making the two unload in unison.
The doorbell rang as they were getting out of the shower. “Perfect timing.” Spoe said, sarcastically, drying off quick, putting his towel around his neck and wrapped another around his waist exposing his hairy chest. He threw on a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt.
“Babe, I’ma grab this door, while you finish cutting the money for me. Cool?”
“I got this,” she said in nothing but a sheer robe. The bell rang again, “Go let ’em in babe.”
Spoe looked his woman over one quick time. Her nipples pointed out like cones, accented her small waist, hips and thighs. He licked his lips then shook his head. “You know we going for round two tonight right,” he said as he kissed her before she walked off to answer the door.
Spoe headed to let Tariq in while Bunny began to count the money with only her robe on.
Tariq was their most frequent visitor as well as the only person, besides immediate family, that had ever come to their place. “What took you so long?” he asked, when Spoe finally sprung the locks on the door.
Spoe still had a few drops of water on him and his hair was wet from the shower. “What you think I was doing man?” he asked as he returned the two deadbolt locks into they cylinders.
Tariq shook his head. “That’s all right, bro, I don’t need to know the details of you and sis actions. All that y’all be doing, y’all need to have some lil Bunnies running around here.” He shook his head with a smirk, and took a seat on the oversized sectional sofa, “You got that bread straight.”
“Almost, Bunny’s finishing up with it now.”
“A’ight, that’s what’s up,” Tariq trusted Bunny like a sister, so he didn’t trip over her counting the money.
A few minutes later Bunny walked into the living room wearing leggings and a crop tank top. Her natural sexy strut should’ve been bottled up and sold or could’ve landed her on a high fashion runway. She handed the bag to Spoe with a heart shaped sticky note on it with the total written on it in red ink. He immediately placed it on the table.
Bunny greeted Tariq with a hug and a sisterly hug. “What’s up T? You good?”
“Yeah, I can’t complain, sis,” he said.
After the small pleasantries, “The total on the money came up to $761 thousand, $380,500 a piece. Yours all there, Reek.”
“Not bad, huh?” Spoe said with a smile.
Tariq stuffed his half into a backpack. “More than I thought it would be. Life is pretty fucking awesome.”
They went up in the stash house of some heroine dealers, expecting, maybe, half a mill at best. It was a pleasant surprise that they had exceeded their expectations. And nobody got hurt in the process. “Can’t complain,” he said.
The boys sat in the living room talking shop while Bunny fixed sandwiches in the kitchen. “You sure you don’t want one, Tariq? I got the roast beef y’all like.”
“Nah, man, I just ate.”
“Huh?” both Bunny and Spoe questioned Tariq. He never turned down any of Bunny’s food. “Had a little lunch date with a chick and shit.”
“What chick?” Bunny asked being nosey.
“You don’t know her,” Tariq said nonchalantly.
“Oh okay, when will I get to meet her?” she asked getting excited at the thought of having a girl she could bond and shop with while their men got more money than they could spend.
“Chill Bunny, you’re probably not gonna meet her.” Tariq explained, “You know I don’t keep girls around for too long.” Tariq was like that. He was a shy, mild mannered kind of guy with a dry personality but oddly enough, he had a lot of heart and had no problem at all busting a cap in somebody’s ass. When Bunny first met him, she thought of him as a weirdo. But after getting to know him, she learned to love him because he was Spoe’s partner in crime.
Bunny laughed and ear hustled as she always did on the rest of the conversation.
Bunny fixed two sandwiches one for her and the other for Spoe and was sitting on the bar stool eating, when Tariq said to Spoe, “You heard bout them simple ass niggas, Mike and dem’, from Jay-Dubb?”
Jay-Dubb was the hood’s nickname for Jackson Ward, a famous area downtown Richmond, where wealthy blacks once socialized, owned businesses and allowed themselves to be entertained. An area, where, the legendary actor and dancer Bill BoJangles Robinson, who called Richmond his home and Jackson Ward his playground, had been immortalized by a statue on the corner of Clay and Adams—his likeness suited and booted in the middle of an elaborate tap number for eternity. But now, though slowly being revitalized, Jackson Ward is mostly known for its infamous housing project, poverty, crime, murder, and most of all . . . drugs.
Spoe paused in thought. He knew a few Mikes, and Jay-Dubb wasn’t known for producing the city’s brightest cats. “Which Mike?” he asked after drawing a blank.
“Crackhead Mike that Juked robbed.”
Rob was a careless dope boy from the West End. That got caught with his pants down in his stash house with a stripper named Peaches. Peaches was Mike’s cousin, and the brains behind the hit. Trusting his dick, a mistake on Rob’s part, cost him thirty-two zones of coke and his life.
“What about him?” Spoe asked.
Tariq looked at Spoe unable to believe he hadn’t heard. “It’s been on the news all evening.” Then it dawned on him, “Oh, but you and sis been in here on y’all baby making shit today.”
Spoe shooed him off, “That’s right tho’.”
“On some fucking renegade shit.... Dude tried to knock off, the Bank on Jefferson Avenue. And got smoked by five-oh in the process. Them niggas was battling with the police, in the middle of the street, in broad day light, straight on some cold-blooded-Wild-Wild-West shit.”
Spoe, interest peaked but not surprised, asked, “Fuck outta here. Who was with him?”
Tariq shared what he knew from the news and what the streets were saying. “His cousin Benny and two of his little homies. five-oh sparked all of them.” Tariq kept going not showing one bit of sympathy for the lives lost. “I heard them niggas jacked off too much time inside—all high on that coke and shit. Jakes were laying on them soon as they came out and it was on.”
Spoe, bred to put in work, summed up Mike’s flaws in one word: “Stupid,” then asked Bunny to turn on the television, which she was already on it—channel surfing desperate to find the news breaking story.
A cat commercial was on NBC. Bunny tried the other three local networks, neither were showing the news at the time.
“Oh, shit!” A nervous Bunny thought out loud. “You said Jefferson Avenue right? It wasn’t the Metro Bank was it?” she asked.
“Yes it was,” Tariq said with nod.
Suddenly it dawned on Bunny that her oldest sister, Simone wa
s supposed to start working at that very bank today. Silently, she prayed, “Lord, please don’t have let anything bad possibly happen to Simone.”
Then she asked, Tariq, “Did anyone working at the bank get hurt?” Fingers crossed, hoping the answer was no.
That hope crashed and burned when Tariq said, “I think it was a security guard, and at least one employee, maybe two,” he said. “But I’m not sure ’cause they say the details was sketchy, but heard that shit was a blood bath inside the bank and outside.”
Bunny’s blood froze as the chills went up her spine. She immediately reached for the phone.
She tried to call Simone, and the phone just rang and the voicemail came on. Then tried calling a few more times and still no response.
Though unlike most siblings, they didn’t actually grow up their entire lives in the same house, they were still very close and kept in touch. Like all siblings, they had their differences and would bicker and argue, but make no mistake about it, that was still her big sister, whom she loved dearly and she’d go to war for.
Shit wasn’t looking or sounding good at all . . . but what else could she do but try to keep hope alive?
-4-
Two hours later . . .
Bunny had stormed out of her apartment and rushed to her grandmother’s house. When she arrived, Bunny’s and Simone’s younger sisters, Tallhya and Ginger were already there.
Tallhya was twenty-five; two years younger than Bunny, and Ginger at age twenty-four was the baby of the bunch. As she took a seat on the living room couch, all three looked at each other but none of them spoke. There was an unspoken understanding between the sisters to just sit and wait for one of their phones to ring. After half an hour of sitting in silence, the only thing that could be heard were Bunny’s tall thigh high Tom Ford boots’ heels clacking back and forth when she stood up and began striding up and down
“Can you stop pacing the damn floor please,” Ginger their youngest sister said. “Just sit your ass down. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
Bunny heard her youngest sister, but at the same time she couldn’t help but worry about her older sister.
“God won’t take her away from us like this,” Tallhya the middle sister chimed in. Out of the four sisters, Tallhya was the soft spoken one. The way she was, you would’ve thought she was the youngest of them all. She had this gullible innocence about her and because of it, her sisters were constantly trying to toughen her up.
“Yeah, because God forbid something happens, on everything I love, it ain’t going to be nothing nice.” She shook her head, “This is some bullshit, she don’t deserve to be caught up in no shit like this.” Bunny fumed.
Bunny decided to change her scenery and go to the kitchen to sit at her grandmother’s kitchen table. She thought maybe if she sat at the table where she shared so many good memories with her sisters, it would help her feel a little better. Her foot was nervously bouncing off the floor. She’d dialed Simone’s number for what felt like the fiftieth time. This time, instead of it ringing like all the other times she called, the call went straight to voicemail. And Simone’s phone never went to voicemail. She was always dependable and on point. Out of all of the four sisters, Simone was the oldest and the most responsible one.
“Look, if Miss-Goodie-Too-Shoes was okay, she would’ve made a way to call us by now. And she would’ve seen all our missed calls. She usually answers her phone or calls right back.” Bunny made a good point. “Some shit musta gone down with her. Maybe we should call the hospital and see if she’s there”
“Yeah, you right Buns. Her ole considerate-ass would’ve called us by now if she was all right,” Ginger had to agree.
“Not the best sign,” Tallhya added. “But there’s probably a perfectly good explanation.”
It didn’t help that the police and the bank refused to disclose any information about the robbery, let alone about who’d been injured.
Bunny sucked her teeth. “The bank could at least have fucking common courtesy for their employees’ families. And call and say look we can’t give no details but your sister is okay.”
“Maybe theyre working on getting the employee emergency information,” Tallhya said trying to stay positive
The vibe was glum.
The sister’s signature gray eyes that normally sparkled and lit up a room—were at half-mast.
The captivating gray eyes and high-cheek bones, deep dimples were gifts passed down from their mother, Deidra, who was a deadbeat mom who was usually,nowhere to be found. Except with Deidra, being conspicuously absent was nothing new. All their lives, the only thing that was consistent with their mother was that Deidra only had time for Deidra. She had only given them two things: life and their enchantingly gorgeous looks.
The sisters were drop dead gorgeous, beauty queen beautiful. In fact, Simone had participated in pageants since she was about nine years old. As a young adult she had even won on a state level. She had that Vanessa Williams regal-kind-of beauty: sophisticated, well spoken, educated, and with a lot of book sense as well as common sense. Bunny on the other hand was a ghetto princess, Keisha from Belly kind of fine, she too had participated in church pageants when she was a little girl and had won Ms. Churchill, East End, and was also the Homecoming Queen. But she never competed in national beauty pageants. Growing up and hanging out with the thugs in her school, she was rough around the edge. She had only attended one year of community college, but was very book smart and had more street smarts than any one female should have. She should’ve been the boy of the bunch, because she was bold, and had the heart of a lion. The girl overall was as sharp as the knife she kept on her at all times.
Bunny and her sisters, were raised by their Me-Ma, Mildred Banks. Me-Ma was a strong, God fearing woman that had done the best job she could with her granddaughters. Her daughter Deidra had dropped off all four of them when they were just days old and even though Me-Ma felt too old to raise kids again, she didn’t have the heart to turn her back on them.
Bursting the bubble of silence, Ginger said what they all were thinking. “What if Simone got shot?” Bunny and Tallhya kept their heads down, each sulking in her own thoughts. Ginger continued, “What if she’s—”
Bunny cut her off.
“Stop it right there, Ginger.” She turned and hissed at her. “Just shut the fuck up. Don’t even say that kind of shit.” She’d had enough of the negative talking and thinking. “We are not fittin’ to sit here and talk no crazy shit like that into our reality. That’s what we not gon’ do,” she said. “You hear me?”
Ginger rolled her eyes.
“It ain’t like y’all wasn’t thinking the same shit. I’m just the only one with the balls to say it,” Ginger said, challenging her sister. Ginger was the baby, but she had always been the tough-ass of the four. She was outspoken and unapologetic about the things she said. She was also short tempered and quick to get in somebody’s face if they said or insinuated something she didn’t like. She was a lot like Bunny except she could get a lot more ignorant. Whereas Bunny was the type to ask questions first, Ginger jumped to her own conclusions and acted on them with no hesitation. But the irony of all this was that Ginger was the most girly girl of the sisters. Always in heels, never in sneakers, Ginger was always dressed like she was about to walk the runway.
Bunny shot Ginger an intense look that Ginger knew all too well. Bunny started walking to get in Ginger’s face when. Tallhya busted out laughing.
Ginger turned her nose up and asked, “What the fuck is so funny? ’Cause it ain’t a gotdamn thing funny about my sister dying.”
Tallhya cut her eye at Bunny, laughed some more, then looked back at Ginger.
Ginger, sitting all proper in her tight jeans and studded stillettos was like, “What? What Bitch? What?”
Tallhya was by now in tears of laughter and couldn’t even get her words out, she was laughing so hard.
Bunny not usually late to the draw, was now getting the joke, and cracked up
laughing too.
That’s when Tallhya, shared the content of the joke, said, “You’re the only one in here with balls—period!”
Ginger didn’t like that at all. She huffed and puffed, “You fucking bitch! Your ass makes me fucking sick.”
“It is what it is Gin. Don’t get mad. You set yourself up for that one!” Bunny said in between chuckles, “Now act like you got some balls and take it like a man,” Bunny exclaimed laughing even harder this time.
What could, Ginger do? The truth was always in a joke, “You got me that time, Tale I set myself up.” Ginger admitted as she joined them in laughter.
All three of them-cracked up laughing as if it was the funniest joke ever. Truth was, Ginger did have balls- literally. Born one hundred percent boy, his mother named him Gene. But from the day that she started walking and talking, it was obvious that either God or one of HIS workers had made a mistake when it came to Ginger’s gender. Ginger acted like a girl and always wanted to wear dresses. After a few years of fighting Me-Ma every morning when it was time to get dressed, Me-Ma gave in and let Gene wear what he wanted. And even though he was a boy, Gene had inherited the same high cheek bones and good looks from his mother which made him the epitime of a pretty boy so it was easy for him to pass himself off as a girl. All he had to do was let his curly hair grow out.
For this reason, Ginger had always been considered as just another one of those Banks girls. Sometimes they were compared to the Braxton sisters, except the Banks girls were prettier and neither of them could hold a note to save their collective lives.
“Fo’ real tho’, that shit was funny,” Ginger exclaimed. She knew how to roll with the punches and she loved to laugh at a joke even though it was at her expense this time.
“Hell yea, that shit was funny,” Bunny said still tearing and laughing.
Ginger rolled her eyes. The mesmerizing gray eyes, along with a tight body, that had seduced a many of so-called straight men into her world of cross dressing. She loved that empowering feeling she got when she slayed, conquered a straight man and dicked him down. Gene really wanted to get her boobs done but she never wanted to cut her penis off. She actually enjoyed using her “fun stick” as she called it.
