by Meesha Mink
But at long last, my pride has to take a backseat when our home phone is turned off. Zoey got that new job, but she’s making four dollars less an hour. I drop her off for her first day and then drive the car out to Club Diamond.
From the moment I pull up into the parking lot, I’m impressed. The futuristic white building is shaped like a large boomerang and lined with a four-foot, black wrought-iron gate. The place actually looks like it a high-art museum and as I approach the glass doors, I actually start to get a little nervous. When I open the door, my feet sink into the club’s lush black-and-gold carpet with printed blue diamonds while the light scent of strawberries fills the air.
“May I help you?”
I glance up to a long marble counter with an attractive ebony-hued sistah with a sunshine smile and very little clothing. “Yeah, I’m here to see Tavon Johnson about a job. He gave me his card.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her cinnamon-painted lips holding onto its smile. “Sweet doesn’t come in on Tuesdays. The best times to catch him here are Thursdays, really.”
“Oh,” I say, and then try to hide my disappointment. “Thanks, then.” I turn and head back out the door, but not before giving the place another quick glance. It’s good to know that some niggas were able to escape the bullshit street games and really roll in some long-ass green.
I’m halfway back to Zoey’s car when another car rolls up on me.
“Hey. Don’t I know you?”
I turn my head toward a sweet champagne-colored Jag. The woman behind the wheel tilts down her black shades. “I don’t think so.” I scoop the car keys out of my pocket.
“Yeah, I do. You stay in Bentley Manor.”
I frown at this chick, wondering what the fuck she really wants.
“Used to run with the Disciples; just got out the pen after serving a dime.”
“What the fuck? You writin’ a book or somethin’, lady?”
“No.” She pauses and then adds, “But I might be offering you a job.”
That catches my attention. “What kind of job?”
A slow smile curves her lips. “One that pays damn good.”
“I’m listenin’.”
“How does…thirty large sound to you?”
My heartbeat kicks up a notch. “It sound like it’s illegal.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
I stare at her and realize that this bitch is serious. “I think I’ll pass,” I say, sliding my key into the door.
“A hundred.”
She has my attention again. “A hundred thousand dollars?” I ask for clarification.
“Half now and the other half when you finish the job,” she says.
“What’s the job?”
“Climb in and I’ll tell you all you need to know.”
I’m late picking up Zoey from work, but one look at my smiling face, her irritation melts away.
“You got the job at Club Diamond?” she asks, jumping into the car.
“No,” I say and then lean over the seat to press a kiss against her lips.
She frowns. “Then why in the hell are you smiling?”
“Because I’m going to take you out on the town.”
“What the fuck? You win the lottery or something?”
“You can say that.” I shift the car into drive and quickly hit the open highway.
“Don’t I even get a hint to what’s going on?”
“Open the glove compartment.”
She does as she’s told and her eyes immediately bug out at the sight of a very large envelope with money bulging out of it. “What the fuck is this?”
“A little sumptin’ sumptin’ to get us on our feet.”
“But—”
“Be careful of what you ask, you might not like the answer.”
She clamps her mouth shut and swallows hard.
I smile. “And that’s just the down payment.”
She gasps and then stares at the money again.
I glance over at her, trying to gauge her feelings at the moment. “Everything is finally comin’ together for us, Zoey. This will set us straight.”
Zoey is quiet for so long, I don’t know what the fuck she thinkin’. I turn off onto our exit and chance another look at her. She’s smiling with tears falling down her face.
“You happy, baby?”
She leans over and wraps her arms around me. I nearly steer off the road, laughing. “Watch it, baby. We don’t want to wreck your shit.”
Zoey ignores me and rains kisses along the side of my face. “I love you. I love you. I love you!”
Damn. She’s practically glowing. That shit makes me feel good.
When I park right next to Miz Cleo’s long-ass Lincoln, Zoey stuffs the money into her purse and then we climb out the car. Zoey rush into my arms and rain kisses all over my face as we head toward our apartment building.
“Well, you two look like you’re in a good mood,” Miz Cleo comments, smiling up at us while her great-grand-baby attempts to ride her tricycle again.
“Yeah,” Miz Osceola comments. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you two smiling like that.”
“Well, we finally got good reason to,” I brag. “Things are finally looking up for us.”
Just as soon as I kill one last person.
25
The Pimp
I fuckin’ give up.
Renee lied to me.
Destiny fucked my kid.
Now Corrine has run away again. Hell, this time I don’t know if I even want her to come back. I’m so sick of the drama swirling around this kid. In the four months I’ve known her, my life has been turned upside down in a way that I would have never thought possible. It’s definitely the reason why I’ve been smoking a little bit more weed and emptying a few more liquor bottles.
I can take a lot of shit, but betrayal is not one of them. That’s stabbing in the back shit—and that’s exactly what the two people I trusted the most has done. For peace of mind, I moved out the house and bought a studio not far from Club Diamond. Since I’m not with Renee, Momma has moved in and has made herself right at home.
Of course none of this means that Renee and Destiny haven’t been blowin’ up my cell phone. On the contrary. That motherfucker has been going off on the regular.
And I’ve been ignoring each and every call.
In the last month, I’ve stayed busy by spending my time at the Red Light District studios and/or mingling with the rich and famous while lacing their arms with my hottest Diamond trim. But no matter what I do, my mind keeps tumbling over how fucked up my situation really is.
I miss my wife.
And my best friend.
And even my fucked-up daughter.
That must be the only reason why I finally ride back over to the house on this cold October night. I’ve been parked outside the crib for a while now, trying to decide on what I’m gonna do. I think back on all the shit Renee and I have been through—all the shit I’ve put her through—and there’s no doubt I that my baby loves me, and that I love her.
It’s just this fuckin’ trust thing.
“Sir, would you like for me to take you back to your condo?” Anderson asks. His ass is probably tired of sitting out here with my zombie-lookin’ ass.
“Nah. I’m gettin’ out.”
Anderson springs out the car and then rushes to my door and opens it.
I climb out, lean on my silver-headed cane, and dust off my shoulders. Despite the house being lit up, I really don’t know whether Renee is home, but I’ve convinced myself that it’s time to try to squash at least some of this shit between us if we’re gonna try to move on.
The minute I enter the house, I can’t deny that it doesn’t feel good to be home. I cross through the open foyer, head down the hall toward the living room, and pull up short when I catch sight of Renee’s silhouette against the ceiling to floor back window. The only light in the room flickers from the fireplace.
I absolutely love the
way she fills out her red silk nightgown. It reminds me of another reason why we’re still together after all this time.
“It’s dark in here.”
Renee jerks away from the window and sloshes the drink in her hand. “Sweet,” she says with a quivering breath. “You came back.”
“Just to talk.”
Her smile trembles as she steps forward and weaves awkwardly on her feet.
“You’re drunk,” I say.
“Just a little bit,” she admits. “I thought that you were never comin’ back. I thought you and Destin…”
She doesn’t know what happened between me and Destiny. I haven’t been home since that night.
“Sweet, I’m sorry,” she says, sitting her glass down and rushing over to me. “I should have never kept something like that from you. Please forgive me. Come back home.” She throws herself into my arms and drenches my shoulder with tears. “I’ll do anything. Just please come back home.”
I’ve never been a romantic kind of guy. I always went with what felt good, and Renee has always felt good. Just like she does right now. I brush a kiss against her forehead and she responds by hooking her arm around my neck and dragging my head down for a kiss that nearly sucks my soul right out of me.
Before I know it, I drop my cane and peel her out of that red gown, filling my hands with her firm breasts. I give them a good hard squeeze and pull on the diamond stud pierced through her chocolate nipples.
Renee pulls her lips from mine to suck in a sharp breath while I drop my head to tongue-bathe the center of her body. It’s like she’s been coated with sugar and I can’t get enough. In no time at all, I’m on my knees and sliding her red-laced thong down her luscious hips and I press a kiss against the diamond tattooed above her clit.
This will forever be my pussy.
I move my lips a little to the left and then ease my tongue inside her clit and sap a little of her sweet honey.
Fuckin’ delicious.
I dive in again and try to lap up every drop her body has to give.
“Oh, goddamn, Sweet,” she pants. Her hands plow into my hair.
I shake my face, tryna get in deeper while sliding two fingers inside to get to the spots I can’t reach. Finally, I just roll down to the floor and then tell her, “Sit on my face.”
Like always, Renee waste no time doing what she’s told and when she lowers her sopping pussy, she also stretches out toward my crotch to undo my pants and deep-throat my cock.
I glide my hands around her hips and spread her wide open so I can feast like it’s Thanksgiving. When her legs start tremblin’, I’m prepared for her nut to drench my face. When her orgasm hits, I nearly drown in her syrupy cum.
The head she’s giving me feels damn good, but she lacks the jaw power I’m used to with Destiny so I just tell her, “Climb on and ride, baby.”
“Hell, yeah.”
Renee and I scramble to get me out of my clothes and I damn near cum too damn soon when her wet heat eases down on me. I only have a coupla seconds to get control before she starts winding her hips and flexing her inner muscles.
“Aww, shit.” I reach down and cup that luscious ass that I’ve been fuckin’ for more than half my life. “Stop fuckin’ around, baby, and ride.” From the first bounce my ass is lost. Nobody rides like my baby.
“Am I still your number one girl?” she asks between pants.
I bite my lower lip and feel my toes curl.
“Hmmm, baby? Am I still number one?”
“Awwww. Fuuuuck, yeah!” I start throwin’ my hips back at her and poundin’ that pussy like it owed me fuckin’ money.
“I’m gonna always be number one, right, baby?” she asks.
“Uhmm. Hmmm,” I moan, but I really don’t give a fuck about what the hell she’s sayin’. My nut sack is tingling again and I’m ready to blast off.
“That fuckin’ jump-off ain’t got shit on this here, baby. You remember that. This pussy is your home,” she groans.
“Uhmm. Hmm.” I flip her ass over; press her face into the carpet so I can attack this shit from the back. Our bodies slappin’ together is the best damn music in the world. Renee is comin’ so hard she leaves wet spots all over the carpet.
“I fuckin’ love you, Sweet. Don’t you ever forget it. Everything I’ve ever done has been for you, baby.” She tightens her inner muscles one last time and my hot shit explodes out the tip of my dick like a popped champagne cork.
I slump forward over her ass and struggle to catch my breath. When air finally flows back into my lungs, I make small bites across her back. “Thanks, baby. I needed that shit.” I smack her on the ass and climb back onto my feet in search of my pants.
Renee watches me with a lazy smile until I grab my cane from off the floor. “Wait. Where are you going?”
I walk over to her, lean down, and brush a kiss against her forehead. “You’re the best.” I turn to leave.
“What the fuck?” I hear her jump to her feet. “What—you just came over to fuck me and now you’re leaving? Is that it? I’m just one of your hos on payroll, is that the fuck it?”
I turn and face her. “I came to talk, but I’ve eliminated some unnecessary stress and I’m ready to roll.”
“What the fuck? Nigga, you got some goddamn nerve, strollin’ up in here and usin’ me like some blow-up goddamn doll. I’m your wife, goddammit! I deserve some fuckin’ respect.”
“You had that, but you fucked that up, didn’t you?”
“Nigga, please. You treat that motherfuckin’ he/ she better than you do me, you goddamn faggot.”
In two strides I’m back in front of her and knockin’ the damn taste out her mouth.
When she rocks her head back onto her neck, she glares at me with blood tricklin’ from her busted lip. “What—beatin’ my ass is gonna make you feel more like a man?” She holds out her arms. “Then have at it, because you’re gonna hafta be at it all night to knock the rest of that sugah out yo tank.”
For the first time with Renee, I crash my fist across her jaw instead of using my backhand. The blow knocks her off her feet. “You done lost yo rapid-assed mind, poppin’ off at the mouth with me like that! Last time I checked, your ass ain’t all that particular on who’s runnin’ up in your shit either, or did you forget that your ass is just one notch above the rest of these hos I stick my dick in?”
She sobs, clearly heartbroken.
“I’m gettin’ the fuck out of here, before you make me do something I’ma regret.” I turn and take two steps before her liquor glass whiz pass my head and smash against the living room wall.
“Go ahead,” she screams. “Go back to your fuckin’ freak. Enjoy his ass while you can! His fuckin’ time is up!”
My heart stops as something cold slithers down my back. “What the fuck did you say?”
She tilts her chin up defiantly and gives me a smug look.
“What the fuck did you do?” I rush back toward her and grab her ass. “I’m gonna ask you one more time: WHAT—THE—FUCK—DID—YOU—DO?”
Renee’s wicked laugh fills my ears. “I erased his ass!”
26
The Dealer
Thank God I’m alive.
My chest hurt like a bitch from the bullet but thankfully it missed anything major and just passed straight through my body. I bled like a fucking hog but surgery was able to get it patched back up.
Looking at death got a nigga’s head straight these last couple of weeks. For one, I stay strapped. All that partyin’ and poppin’-bottle shit is on pause. I got a son to raise and I ain’t gone let these streets take me the fuck out. I wince as I turn the steering wheel of this bullshit-ass black ’69 Chevy Nova—newly done with bulletproof windows. Fuck that. A nigga is on the low for sure. Right now everybody think I’m in New York handling business. Well, they thought wrong. I turn into Bentley Manor and park in front of the first building on the left.
The lot is mainly empty. It’s cold as hell in Georgia during an October n
ight. That cut down most of the traffic around this motherfucker. Good. I just need to get in that apartment, pick up a stash of cash I keep there and the last of the dope I got.
I pull my semiautomatic from the gun holster I’m wearing under my thick, three-quarter-length black leather trench. I make sure the clip is full and tighten the silencer. Fuck that; I’m locked and loaded.
I ain’t no killa but don’t push me.
This bullshit, this game I used to love, got me away from my son. I don’t feel like him and Quilla are safe around me until I find who the fuck want me dead. So Dashon is staying at my parents. He’s already been too close to death. I had Usher take Quilla to one of her cousins staying in Vine City.
I throw up the hood and squeeze out this little motherfuckin’ car. Going incognegro is a bitch.
But dying is way worse.
I walk in the building and jog up the stairs to the second floor, making sure no one sees me. The hall is empty. I walk into the apartment and hold the door to keep it from closing. Just like I told Olive, she done start packin’ up the little bit of shit I had in there. I told her she could have it—.
CLICK.
I freeze as I feel the cold metal pressed behind my ear. I close my eyes and drop my head a little. Damn.
“Why, Usher?” I ask without even turning around.
He laughs a little as he reaches inside my coat to take my gun. My eyes lock on him as he points both guns at me as he circles to stand in front of me. “Why?” he asks again, his bulldog face mocking.
My eyes dipped down to his glassy eyes and the slight streak of white powder by his nose. I had no idea that it was my best friend betraying me until that very moment. No one but him knew I wasn’t out of town. No one but him knew I was coming here tonight.
This shit is so fucking cliché and I still missed it. The only thing to really wrap a bow on this bullshit is—
“Why ask why, baby?”
I’ll be damned.
