“Stop playing and let me in, baby girl.” It was definitely Sticks to the rescue.
Once opening the door, she asked, “What took you so long?” It was after three in the morning.
“I told you that I was in the middle of something.” He greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. “But I got here as soon as I could.” Sticks’s eyes scanned the suite, noting the half bottle of Chardonnay. “Nice room, and do you really need to be drinking?”
“Probably not, but after all the drama tonight and then having to wait hours for you, maybe I did.”
He didn’t play her game with her. Instead, he changed the subject. “Are you ready to bounce or do you want to chill for a while?”
Lolah took a seat on the bed wearing a pair of boy shorts and a T-shirt from the “you never know bag” that she always carried in her trunk for emergency purposes.
He took a seat beside her and asked, “So what happened?”
She put her hand up. “You are not going to believe this one,” she said. “In fact, I’m going to insist that you let me pour you a drink for this one,” she said as she got up to grab a glass.
His eyes followed her as she walked over to the glass. He took his shoes off while she was heading back over to him. “Damn, let me get comfortable.”
She sat down beside him, put her legs on his and explained everything to him, a blow by blow of what happened with Carlos’s wife. When she was done with talking about the whole scenario, she asked, “So what do you think?”
“I think that the next vehicle we get you is going to be an Escalade or a limo, with a hired driver. It hasn’t even been six months yet and you have already gone through at least three vehicles. You’ve got to be more careful,” he joked.
She stood up in front of him. “You a comedian now?” she asked, batting her eyelashes, with her hand on her hip, and her boy shorts were rocking a camel toe. “What you really thinking? Be real with me, tell me what is exactly on your mind, at this exact minute.”
She could see how he was looking at her, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you?”
“Love me,” she blurted out, letting the alcohol speak for her. “Why is that so hard.”
“I do already,” he said.
“I’m not talking about no sister love either.”
He let out a slight chuckle. “I wish it was that simple.” He went into deep thought.
“It is, and what? You mean you don’t know what you gone do with me?” she asked more curious.
He was quiet for a second, wanting to make sure that he chose his words correctly. “I think that you are beautiful, and you are the type of chick I wish I could run across, and I like you . . . a lot. But I don’t know how our Pops would feel about us being together like that.”
“Honestly, it don’t matter, we both grown,” she said. “I know my Pops would only want happiness for me, and if you made me happy, then he would be happy. And you do.” She kissed him on his cheek. But in the back of her mind she was thinking of Mickey’s response to when she told him she had feelings for Sticks. Why had her news pissed him off?
“You know it’s mad awkward for me ’cause I like you and every day that shit is growing.”
“I like you too”—she looked into his eyes—“you don’t feel the attraction here, because I do?”
“I do,” he said with a slow nod. “I do.”
She leaned in and kissed him and he kissed back and put his arm around her. She liked how warm his mouth felt as their tongues intertwined in each other’s mouth. The long, intense kisses went on for over ten minutes and his manhood rose. He ran his hands up her legs and she was like a waterfall.
“You know we about to do something we can’t take back,” he whispered.
“I know,” she said back, only wanting him inside of her.
“Everything changes from here,” he reminded her.
“I know, I bet on us,” Peaches said, “with no doubts and willing to risk it all.”
Sticks nuzzled his chin against Peaches’s lips. He knelt to the ground wrapping his arms around her waist, placing the perimeter of his face in her navel. His head went back and forth sideways. Sticks looked up at Peaches and said, “Let me take care of you, baby girl.” He laid her on her back while his right hand massaged and caressed her nipples and lips to her inner region. Her body felt like it was suspended in air. Sticks’s touch against her skin gave her shivers, and he was maneuvering around her body like he had an all-access pass to her desires. That’s when he took her T-shirt and soaking wet boy shorts off and removed his own clothes, never taking his eyes off of her. As he stripped down, for a split second, she got a little intimidated, when saw that he was hung like a horse. His extremely large member rested in the middle of his thigh.
Damn, she thought to herself, then spoke out loud to him. “I don’t know how I’m going to handle that,” she admitted, not wanting to be a disappointment to him. She wanted more than anything to be able to please him.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “I will be easy with you.” He positioned himself in between her legs, taking it slow, going in and out methodically to make his entry easy and pleasurable for her.
Once he was finally inside of her, his strokes were gentle and intense. She enjoyed every minute of their lovemaking. By the time she got used to his big Johnson being inside of her, and she started throwing it back at him, he reached his climax. He began shaking all over the place and announced, “I’m coming, baby.”
“Come inside of me,” she demanded, and he did.
18
Savoring the Moment
Sticks’s strong arms were the only place Peaches wanted to be. Their night of lovemaking was absolutely unforgettable and had her emotions running wild. She was treasuring and savoring every moment.
However, it was after ten in the morning and her father had always stressed she be out of the bed by 9 a.m. He would say, “Only a broke person lies in the bed when the banks are opened. If you’re out of the bed, your chances are better at putting some cash in or getting some out.” She’d always taken this way of thinking seriously.
However, this day was different and that rule didn’t apply. The truth of the matter was, neither Sticks nor her were broke and after the roller-coaster ride she had the day before, she deserved to enjoy the day off, doing nothing. She spent the next day in Sticks’s arms, making love, talking, and watching On Demand movies. The feelings of mental and physical ecstasy that she had felt were unlike anything she had felt before. She had never really been in love before, and if this was love she was feeling, then at that very moment she understood the reason why such an emotion could make people do the crazy things they did. It was like a rush, a drug, a high.
The day had come and gone, and now it was nightfall again. Sticks set up a romantic midnight picnic on the beach. They made love under the stars, then decided to take the party back upstairs to their room. Once back upstairs, she had a sudden impulse, stepped outside of her and Sticks’s magical world for a few minutes and grabbed her cell phone.
“Who you calling, baby?” Sticks asked when she grabbed her phone. He wanted to keep every second of her attention.
“Checking my messages,” she said.
“I thought you weren’t going to worry about anything until tomorrow morning,” he reminded her.
“Just checking messages, babe. I won’t return any calls until tomorrow, though. I promise.”
“I don’t really understand that, but okay, cool.” With that being said, he grabbed his phone and checked his too.
Her voice mail was full. Damn near most were from Carlos apologizing for the ordeal with his wife, Millie. “I had no idea that she had followed me and had been watching us. And had followed you. My apologies, and I truly hope you don’t let this affect our business.”
As she listened, she spoke out loud. “I can’t believe this, this is pure craziness.”
“What?” Sticks asked. Then she put her phone on speakerphone so she
could hear them. Then it got crazier as the next message came on.
“Bitch, I know you got some fucking nerve.” She heard Lyle’s voice. Her first thought was to not even listen to it, just delete it. But she decided to listen for shits and giggles. After all, what could Lyle say to really blow her high?
“You little hypocrite, the pot calling the kettle black,” Lyle said in his highest pitched voice. “You had the gall to get furious with The Bombshell about my little ordeal and you wrapped all up in these love triangles and shit.”
“What the fuck he talking about?” she asked, twisting her face up, not having the foggiest idea, but before she could get her thought out good enough, Lyle continued talking as to fill her in as if he wasn’t talking to a machine and she was right there.
“Yes, Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes, I seen the billboards! That’s right, and that picture of you, they could have took a better one.”
Lolah’s heart was in her undies.
Lyle continued, “I never took you as the type to mess with somebody’s husband. But I should have known, it be bitches like you that do that kind of ratchet shit. But, honey, those billboards are lined up and down I-95 with your picture, name splattered all on it. Baby, you fucked the wrong woman’s man, and let me be the first to tell you, it’s just not a good look. Matter of fact, I’m going to send you a picture of it,” he said before ending the message. “I gotta go have a drink for this tea honey I’m spilling. And after this mind-blowing gossip done came to light about you, Ms. Honey thing, you do owe me an apology and not on my voice mail either.”
Lolah was undone and she was furious. If she was asleep, it was time for somebody to wake her. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She looked at her picture that Lyle had sent, and low and behold it was a picture of her with the words home wrecker written over it on a big-ass billboard.
“What in the fuck?” she said out loud. “Is this really my life? I mean, really? How in the fuck could this really happen?”
She sat dumbfounded for a second; then she called Carlos. But Sticks took the phone from her—“I will go deal with this”—and took her in her arms. “I promise it’s going to be all right, baby. These billboards are going to be down in twenty-four hours. I promise you. This is some real bullshit.” Sticks was angry but tried to keep calm because he knew that they both didn’t need to be angry.
“How could this happen? How could she get this up so quick?” Peaches asked.
“But as quick as they got up, they will be taken down. I promise you,” Sticks assured her.
Sticks taking charge calmed her down. She grabbed the remote. “You going to order another movie?” he asked.
“No, just find something to watch, see what’s going on in this crazy city.” She shook her head, trying to pull herself together.
“As late as it is, it’s only infomercials,” Sticks said as he listened to his messages.
Lolah took the remote control from him and kept channel surfing. “You are probably right.”
When Sticks didn’t respond, she focused her attention to him, but he had a solemn expression on his face. “What is it, babe?”
He didn’t respond for a second; then she reminded him, “Remember, no secrets.”
Now it was his turn to share his phone messages. He’d gotten one from Matteo. “Junior, I don’t know what you two lovebirds are out there doing. Yeah, don’t be surprised. I’m a long ways from stupid; I might be old, but I ain’t blind. Even a blind man could see the feelings y’all two got, and it’s so bittersweet. Anyways, I ain’t call to lecture you on who to love. Shit done got complicated. Shit done hit the fan in so many different ways. This whole ordeal is turning into a freak show and on top of that Mickey is here with his shovel to dig up bones from the past. The son of a bitch drove here after he hung up from Lolah, and he’s ready to lay all the cards on the table. Call me, son.”
“What bones from the past, Sticks?” She wanted some answers. “What are the ties that bind? What happened? Tell me. Please tell me. Share with me,” she practically begged.
“It’s complicated,” Sticks said. “I don’t even know how to explain or where to begin.” He shook his head, not knowing if they should wait for their fathers or if he should tell her his version of everything and how, exactly, their fathers are connected. He was quiet, mulling everything over.
“Sticks,” she said, with a confused look on her face.
He took a deep breath, not knowing where to start to explain. So he started from the beginning. “When we were living back in Virginia, Mickey and Matteo were raised up in the same house like brothers. When they got older, they chose different paths of the game. Mickey was a junkie—”
“What are you talking about?” Peaches interrupted. “Mickey wasn’t ever no junkie. Your information must be wrong.”
“This was a long time ago. But I’m telling the truth. He hustled for Matteo, and at that time Matteo was a big-time dealer who ran the city.” Sticks took a deep breath, then continued. “You weren’t even ten yet, so you wouldn’t remember. I was fourteen, and I wanted a piece of the action. To prove myself to my father. But Matteo didn’t want me in the game. Plus, I was too young. But I wouldn’t listen.
“I dipped into some of my father’s new shipment that he had just got in, and went to hit the block and started selling it. I had no idea that it was raw, uncut heroin when I sold it to Emma. . . .”
Peaches couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Did he mean Emma, like her mother Emma, who died when Peaches was seven years old? Her mother and Mickey were junkies? And Matteo and Sticks were their suppliers? It was just too much to take. She could barely process the rest of what Sticks was saying.
“Emma shared it with two of her get-high buddies. They all died from an overdose. I was devastated and ashamed and swore I’d never try my hand at the drug business again. After Matteo saw what the life had done to us and how he had had such a negative influence in his community, he changed. He had always told himself that he was providing jobs for the felons and uneducated, but he never looked at it as the poison he was polluting his people’s bodies and lives with. He had done collateral damage and hurt so many that he cared about, including Mickey, Emma, and especially me, his own son.”
Peaches could see where this was going, so she filled in the rest of Sticks’s story. “So Matteo wanted out, right? He took an early retirement, packed up, and made a home in Miami using his dope money to start up the new business. Since then neither of you have ever looked back. You put the past and everyone in Virginia behind you . . . until I showed up.”
Sticks had girlfriends before, but none of them had an effect on him or his heart like Lolah did, and it was strange to him because it was such a short time. He asked himself, Was it lust? Then answered, No, couldn’t be. Was it infatuation? No, he knew the difference. It was definitely love.
Sticks had no idea if she would ever forgive him, but he knew getting the past off his chest was the only way to move forward. He closed his eyes, afraid to look in Peaches’s eyes and see her feelings for him turn to hate.
“Sticks,” Peaches called out, trying to convince him to allow her to enter into his deep thoughts with him.
Sticks sat quiet. This was the first time in his adult life that he was faced with a situation that he didn’t know how to handle. “Give me a second, baby,” he said to try to sort things out in his head.
And that’s when Lolah caught a glimpse of the television. “Oh my goodness,” she said out loud, breaking his thoughts and forcing him to focus on her as she raised up out of the bed to her feet and was glued to the television.
There she was, Peaches Brown, that same picture that they had taken off of Malika’s Instagram page. She couldn’t believe that she was on America’s Most Wanted. Maybe they had shown it earlier in the day, and this was a replay. She didn’t know, but all she knew was she couldn’t breathe, and she felt like she was back in Virginia in Tony’s back room on the poker table with his hands rea
ching for her belt trying to take off her pants. She wanted to maintain a poker face, but she couldn’t breathe. She felt like the walls were closing in on her.
Sticks came to her side, trying to comfort her.
She could not believe she had been hit with the triple whammy, first the billboards, then Sticks’s part in her mother’s death, and now this. The necklace that Carlos had given her, maybe it wasn’t blessed, maybe it was cursed.
She didn’t look anything like that picture anymore, but she was now afraid that it wouldn’t take long before someone would put two and two together.
“They are closing in on me,” she said to Sticks. As she looked into his eyes, she put the past in the past. He wasn’t the kid who’d made a terrible mistake that killed her mother; he was now a man she could trust with her life.
“No, they are not,” he said. “Real talk, no one would even notice you.”
Tears came to her eyes. For the first time in a very long time, she cried as Sticks took her in his arms. She didn’t utter a word but knew that her Miami gig was up.
Just when she thought that Miami was home and her life was coming together, all hell breaks loose. She was back at square one.
Leaving her father, friends, business, and mother’s resting place was the hardest thing she ever had to do. And now she had to do the same thing all over again. Naturally, she thought that if she had to ever leave, it would be easier each time, but the game had definitely changed. There were emotional ties and leaving Sticks and Matteo and Miami strangely was still going to be just as hard.
But she couldn’t think about the good-byes right now. She needed a new plan. She looked up at Sticks and remembered their conversation back on Ocean Drive, about using her skills to create a new persona. She didn’t know if her new life would include Sticks, but she had an idea that would free her from the most wanted list for good—a disguise so fabulous there was only one place she’d fit in—the city of sin!
Most Wanted Page 18
