Thicker Than Water

by Takerra, Allen

  Tatum tried to console her friend, but they had been through this conversation before. Tatum didn’t even understand why Chauncey had left her, and he was like her big brother. He and Tatum’s brother, Chris, had been close since childhood. The only difference was that Chauncey had moved out to New York when he was younger, did a major come-up, and then came back and put Chris on. Before Chaunc came back, Chris was nickel and diming, stealing cars, and doing small robbery stints.

  Now he was making a little more money in the streets, but he still wasn’t taking care of his responsibilities. And it wasn’t even like her brother couldn’t afford his own place. He just couldn’t afford to be at home with his kids and lose a second on the streets—that’s why he liked having Tatum around. So he chose to blow his money on weed and bitches instead, Chris was a backwards hustler.

  “Yo, Sash,” Tatum said, changing the subject as a thought entered her head. “Let’s go shopping.”

  Tatum couldn’t find anything to wear and she hated that feeling. Sasha, one who enjoyed spending money, thought it was a brilliant idea. She needed to add some additions to her wardrobe, well, at least in her eyes she thought so. In anyone else’s eyes she had everything, Kors, Dior, Marc Jacobs, Stella McCartney, her closet was like an issue of Vogue magazine.

  “Shopping? Tatum, oh yeah, I love that story, girl. I’ll be over as soon as E gets here.”

  “Nah, I’ll just come get you. I gotta bring Chanel and Tangee though ’cause they were stuck in the house all yesterday with their stupid-ass father, they need to get out,” Tatum exclaimed loud enough, hoping Chris could hear her.

  “Aw yeah, bring my girls.”

  Sasha loved Tatum’s nieces. They were so girly and pretty, like her.

  “All right.”

  “Cool.”

  “Call me when he gets there.”

  “All right, bye.”

  Tatum and Sasha were definitely the closest out of the four girls. They just got along the best. Truthfully, each of the girls thought she and Tatum were the closest, because she was the nucleus of the crew, but in actuality Kim and Neli were very much alike. They were both out for themselves; Neli was just more ruthless about it.

  Tatum finished selecting her attire for the day as she laid out some cut-off shorts and a cropped tank. She showered, dressed, and left her hair long and curly to air dry.

  Although her curls could be a pain, Tatum appreciated days like this when she didn’t have to style her curly hair, the privilege owed to her Trinidadian father. She stuffed all of her contents into her large Gucci bag: baby wipes for the girls and herself, lip gloss, phone, keys, hairspray, bottled water, and snacks for the girls. She dressed the girls in their matching polo dresses and waited for Sasha’s call.

  Knock. Knock.

  Sasha jumped off the couch, walked to the peephole, and saw that it was E. Opening the door, she spoke.

  “What’s up, E?”

  “What up, Sash, how u been?”

  E was a big guy, tall and stocky, like a Suge Knight type. He was hard as steel but soft and warm whenever Sasha encountered him. He knew the respect Chauncey had for her and he extended that as well.

  “I’m good,” she answered.

  Sasha noticed that E was grabbing the two garbage bags she had ready and proceeding to leave. She couldn’t let him do that yet, she had to milk him for information.

  “E, wait, sit down for a minute. Let me get you something to drink. It’s hot out there.”

  “Thanks, Sash,” E said, walking in and taking a seat at the dining room table. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. It was hot as hell outside but welcomingly cool in Sasha’s apartment. She kept her place neat, clean, and immaculately decorated. It reminded E of his mother; he liked Sasha. He always told Chauncey he should cut the bullshit and marry her. E felt as if you couldn’t find too many drop-dead gorgeous women that were about something.

  Sasha handed E a glass of Southern-made iced tea and took a seat next to him.

  “E, did I do something wrong, does he love me?” she found herself blurting out. E knew this was coming. He knew all about Chauncey. He knew about Neli, he knew about the fact that Chauncey may have to relocate soon, probably South, because things were getting hot for him. He knew Chauncey genuinely loved Sasha and didn’t want her caught up in his crazy world. She was in school, she came from a good middle-class family, and she deserved the very best in Chauncey’s eyes.

  “Sash, yo, the man loves you. You know the man loves you. I don’t know anything else,” E lied.

  “Well, does he talk about me?”

  Sasha worried that talking to E was a lost cause. E stared into her hurt eyes and her beautiful face. Damn, she was beautiful. To E, twice more beautiful than Neli. E wished he had a girl who loved him like that.

  “All right, Sash, between me and you, the man been trippin’ out over you. He says he misses you like crazy.”

  A huge smile crept across her face.

  “I miss him so much, E,” Sasha whispered, on the verge of crying.

  “I know. Here, take this,” E said, peeling off twenty crisp hundred-dollar bills and standing up. “Buy yourself something.”

  He had taken Chauncey’s instructions to give her a little something, but not to say that it was from Chauncey.

  “Thanks, E . . . take care.”

  Sasha let him out and called Tatum. After telling her everything, she showered and dressed in some 7 jeans, Louis Vuitton flip-flops, and a tank top. She threw on her Louis Vuitton shades and grabbed the matching bag. Perfection . . . She went outside to wait for Tatum.

  As Tatum pulled up she saw Sasha standing and waiting, looking fly, and two local hood rats, Lizette and Marie standing there obviously hating on her girl. They were even more pissed when they saw Tatum and her truck, rolling their eyes and sucking their teeth. Sasha hopped in the car.

  “Hey Chanel! Hey Tangee!” Sasha spoke to the girls in her energetic, kid-friendly tone. She was always good with kids, probably because she had a naivete about her own self.

  “Hi Sasha,” the girls spoke cheerfully.

  Sasha looked at Lizette and Marie out of the window.

  “I guess ain’t nothing change . . . Bitches still hating.” Tatum pulled off while nodding in agreement.

  “They ain’t nothing but some hood rats, Sash. Don’t even sweat ’em.”

  Sasha nodded as well. That they were.

  The girls tore down Short Hills Mall copping everything from Gucci to Pucci, and now they were walking around downtown Newark just to see who was out. Newark was always alive on a Saturday afternoon and every group of dudes that they passed was practically breaking their necks to look at them.

  Even niggas with their girls were straight disrespecting just to get a look at the duo.

  “Oh my God, these dudes are out here trippin’,” Sasha squealed, looking at the black Porsche double-parked in the street. “Look, Tatum, ain’t that ol’ boy from the other night? He got a fucking Porsche?” Sasha gawked.

  Sasha looked over and noticed that her friend, for the first time ever, was nervous. Tatum was always so cool.

  Tatum stared straight ahead and felt butterflies all in her stomach. Her hands were clammy and her head felt light. She suddenly wondered how she looked as he walked over in their direction.

  “Auntie Tay, who’s that?” Chanel questioned.

  Ree squatted down to the height of the girls and introduced himself. Even the miniature girls were impressed. He stood back up and was almost nose-to-nose with Tatum. She could feel the attraction brewing between them. He cracked a smile and she backed up to give space, only to bump into a young thug.

  “Yo what the fu—”

  The dude interrupted his own statement at the sight of Respect. He looked at Ree with a flicker of fear in his eyes, and then back at Tatum.

  “Yo . . . My bad, Ree. I’m sorry, miss, you okay?” the young thug asked, dusting Tatum off as if she had fallen and being overpolite.


  “I’m okay,” Tatum replied, confused. No one had ever been this polite to her after she bumped into them.

  “That’s enough touching, L,” Ree stated with a deadly calm. The boy immediately took his hands off of Tatum.

  “My bad. All right, respect,” the dude muttered, walking away.

  “Respect,” Ree replied.

  “Damn, what was that about?” Sasha asked. “You the man or something?”

  Ree began to laugh.

  “Nah, I’m just a man, baby . . . But Tatum, it’s crazy to see you, I was just thinking about you.”

  He said this and then gave a light lick to his lips and Tatum imagined him putting that tongue to use.

  “I bet,” she answered seductively.

  Tatum wasn’t about games but she knew how to play when she had to. Ree could see the lust dancing in her eyes. The way she batted those pretty browns at him, she was lucky he remained a gentleman. Ree was used to having his way with women, and occasionally sharing but hardly ever caring, but there was definitely something unique about Tatum that had her standing out in his mind. It was almost as if he was drawn to the girl. Having enough of the chasing game, he finally cut to the chase.

  “Listen, miss, I don’t know if you realize how serious I am, but I’m trying to know you . . . get into your head, see what you about. I’d like to spend some time with you tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Tatum asked, a little flustered.

  Sasha just sat there smiling and excited for her girl. It had been a long time since Tatum had a man and this dude seemed like nothing less than a god. Both times they saw him he looked fresh, had a fly ride, and approached them with top par game. Not to mention the fact that he was undoubtedly sexy.

  “Tonight, Ms. Lady, you like Mr. Chow’s?” he questioned, already setting a date. Ree didn’t have much free time and when he wanted to get something done, he didn’t waste a minute of it. Tatum was in a stupor. The only time she had heard of Mr. Chow’s was in a rap song.

  “No I never been, but . . .” She hesitated.

  “But what, Ms. Lady? I know you not turning me down now.” He spoke with a true disappointed look on his face.

  “It’s just . . . I have no one to watch my nieces.”

  “I’ll watch them,” Sasha jumped in.

  She wanted Tatum to get this man. Ree winked at Sasha as a thank you.

  “All right, it’s settled. Where you live, sweetheart?”

  Tatum sighed, sticking to her hard-to-get act, but then gave in and gave him her address, and he told her he’d be there around seven. As the girls walked away Tatum turned and caught one final look at Ree. He was answering a call on his phone and he appeared so mysterious, so deep in thought. She wondered if she could tap into that mystery; get to know all of him. Oh well, we’ll see.

  Chapter 3

  Passion

  Kim got to work that night around nine. This was actually an early arrival for her for a Saturday night because all of the big spenders didn’t come into the club until around midnight. Kim had been stripping at The Cherry Bar since she was just seventeen and it was the one thing she was damn good at, mastering her sexuality to manipulate men. Sometimes she enjoyed it, sometimes she didn’t, but she always appeared like she did.

  She quickly got dressed and went onstage with Lizette. Sasha and Tatum hated Lizette but Kim didn’t have a problem with her, besides the fact that Kim felt like she was one of them nasty chicks that liked to get her rocks off wherever she could, with men or women, although she preferred women by far. Even during their performances Kim could tell Lizette wanted her. For Kim it was all just acting, although on some nights like tonight when she popped an E pill, she wouldn’t mind it much.

  Kim was donned in a black thong, black leather thigh-high boots, and a black cowboy hat. Lizette, who was an exotic, tanned Spanish chick with long, curly brown hair, modeled red-lace boy-short panties, a red-lace see-through camisole, and red six-inch platforms. They went onstage as a pair and began performing a seductive performance. As they danced on each other, the other dancers walked around to try to get some personals. Kim and Lizette played their role though, they knew some horny bastard would pay to take both of them to the Champagne Room, and they were right.

  Pablo, the owner, approached them and revealed that a gentleman had requested them both. Looking over, Kim saw that it was Chauncey’s right-hand man, E. This was a downside of working close to home, people that she spotted on the day-to-day could come in and see her with her clothes off.

  “All right, E, you want a dance?” Kim asked, lust building in her as the Ecstasy took its course. E chuckled.

  “Nah, lil’ mama, you should already know I ain’t got time for that dancing shit . . . but I got one better, I’ll pay y’all a stack each if we go in the Champ Room and get it poppin’.”

  “I’m down,” Lizette shot at him hastily, interjecting and licking her lips hungrily at Kim.

  Kim couldn’t even talk. She just looked at Lizette and then at E, and then at E’s diamond-encrusted watch. Then her craving for sex and her desire for money led her into the room after them.

  Once they got inside they wasted no time. E wanted to watch first so he could get in the mood; he like any man, appreciated a good show. Lizette immediately began licking and kissing all over Kim as Kim concentrated on seducing E with her eyes. Lizette licked Kim’s neck to her breasts and down to her belly button. Kim resisted at first when Lizette tugged at her panties but eventually gave in and allowed herself to be pleasured.

  After a little girl-on-girl demostration, E got into the action and soon it was a freaky mé-nage à trois. By the time everyone had gotten theirs and given a little in return, two grand was lying on the table and E was out the door. Picking up a grand for herself, Lizette leaned down and gave Kim a soft kiss as Kim’s sedated body lay on the floor hardly able to talk or move. Lizette leaned down to her ear.

  “I’m gonna definitely see you again,” she whispered, and then went back to work. Kim just let her eyes flutter shut, still high, still confused, and still a little horny.

  The date was going so great, it couldn’t have been better if Tatum had dreamt it. It was like something out of a book or a song. After a lavish five-star meal secluded in the kitchen area of the restaurant, where the chef prepared the food right in front of them, they were now at a covertly located airport flying out to South Beach, Miami, via Ree’s private G-6 jet. The nigga was definitely larger than Tatum could have projected and she wondered exactly what she was getting herself into. She could barely decide how to move around him, knowing he must be used to the most exquisite of women to be at his status.

  “You sure you’re not gonna keep me out all night?” Tatum asked, checking out the jet, the luxury of it resembling someone’s fine apartment.

  “Only if you want me to,” he joked. “Why? You worried, sweetheart?” he added, smoothly lighting up a Cuban cigar, after clipping the tip. Tatum studied how he maneuvered with ease.

  “Well, it’s just I have to work on this paper before Monday.” Tatum couldn’t lose focus. Ree was impressed by her dedication. She had mentioned this paper at least twice since dinner and it showed him that she was serious about school. It was another quality that shined about her.

  “Well, you just tell me when and we’ll hop right back on the jet, have you home in no time. Is that all right?” he questioned, staring into the brown of her eyes.

  Hell yeah! Tatum wanted to shout. The man was spellbounding. He was fly, sexy, obviously wealthy and powerful, and not to mention surprisingly extremely intelligent.

  Tatum and Ree had discussed over dinner everything from school and her work to politics, international world issues, and they even got deep as he enlightened her on black history details she wasn’t familiar with. The shit he kicked was pure inspirational. Tatum was feeling his level and it was almost as if she was on a date with a teacher.

  “Yeah that’s all right.”

  Tatum took a pee
k at the boy’s jewelry. It wasn’t flashy or gaudy, but it was enough to blind her momentarily, make her forget she was dealing with a straight cold-blooded killer.

  “That’s a really nice bracelet, Ree,” she complimented, getting comfortable in the plane’s leather chair.

  “Thank you, sweetheart, when we get back to Jersey I’ll buy you one.”

  Is this guy serious?

  “Um, thanks. But Ree, I don’t wear diamonds. You do know there are children in Africa dying over them.”

  Ree was immediately taken back and honestly impressed. Of course he knew this, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from the attraction of them.

  “You’re absolutely right, Ms. Lady. I guess you can just call it a weakness of mine, you know how you do something even though it may be a little bad.” He held his finger and thumb up about a half-inch apart to emphasize the word “little.”

  Tatum cracked a smile, imagining herself doing something with just the two of them on that plane that may be just “a little bad.” But she would fight the temptation. For a while they just sat there ogling each other. Tatum was in a trance. He had an aura about him that made you want to get close to him, get up under him and wrap yourself in his strength. His eyes, his lips, the way he walked, the way he talked, smooth, slow, and in control. But most of all, he had an indescribable, effortless swagger. As Ree puffed on his cigar, Tatum wondered what he was thinking.

  She’s so fucking bad, Ree thought to himself. He hadn’t even kissed her and he was already turned on. Just the way she moved her mouth and the shit that came out when she spoke made his dick hard. And the white formfitting dress that hugged her curves for dear life didn’t hurt either. Her jet-black hair was straight down her back tonight and her long mocha legs looked like satin. He wanted to wrap them around him and give her what he knew she’d been missing. Not just sex, either, but a protector. There was a pain hidden deep in her eyes and he wanted to be the one to take it away.

  “Tell me about your man, Tatum.”