The Last Kings

by C. N. Phillips

  I backed up until I stumbled backward on my king-sized bed. I knew pleading with him would do nothing just by seeing the hungry look in his eyes. He would still take my womanhood, something I never gave willingly—just like he did every other night.

  “Naw . . .” Nino licked his lips while parting my thighs. “That pussy is too tight to pass up.”

  “But you promised, Nino! You promised! You said if I put in more work than your best trapper you would stop!”

  I was sobbing by then just at the mere thought of the broken promise. The promise was what drove me to hustle harder than any nigga Nino had patrolling the streets. In one month, I single-handedly racked in a little over twenty racks. I should have known the man who had the gumption enough to stick his dick inside his lady’s fourteen-year-old daughter wouldn’t keep his word. Nino began laughing, showing his pearly whites. Women went crazy over Nino, but his gorgeous outer layer was outshined by the evil content of his heart.

  “Mom,” I whispered as he loomed over me unstrapping his belt and dropping his pants.

  “Your mom is somewhere in this fuckin’ house passed out, li’l shorty. She ain’t worried about you.” He dropped to his knees, grinning at the sight of my fat lips under my nightgown. “Damn, I guess it’s true what they say. Like mother, like daughter.”

  Nino roughly finished parting my legs as I lay there just staring at the ceiling, wishing I was anywhere but there. I braced myself for the feeling of disgust soon to come. My tears were warm as they rolled freely down my temples into my hair. I closed my eyes and tried to enter a world where no one could hurt me. Nino tore my panties off and lifted my gown just enough so my bottom half was completely visible to the world.

  “I’m about to give you your first squirting orgasm,” he whispered and began slowly massaging my engorged clitoris with his thumb.

  Don’t get wet, don’t get wet, I thought, but my body didn’t pay me any mind. My vagina had a mind of its own, and I could feel my juices start flowing.

  I hated Nino. I hated my hate for Nino. Over the period of time that he’d been raping me, he took an even more twisted take on the matter. He didn’t want me to fight it; instead, he made it his job to find each and every way to give me pleasure. He’d made me come more times than I could count, and I despised myself for it. With every blissful feeling and every drop of juice dripping from in between my thighs, I died a little bit more inside.

  “Yea,” Nino whispered to me, still working his thumb. “You know you like this shit, girl. Go ’head and make that pussy soak for Daddy’s dick.”

  Nino watched in amazement at how wet I was becoming, and I clenched my eyes shut, refusing to enjoy the malicious act being committed against my womanhood. Where was my mother? She knew what Nino did to me. She should be there stopping him! Instead, she got high, so she couldn’t hear my screams for help. She’d thrown me under the bus for the man that supported her habit, and even so, I couldn’t help but to love her.

  Nino’s tongue caught me by surprise, and my body jerked. His tongue was beating my clit like a drum, and it took every ounce of self-control I had left not to moan. Instead, I sobbed louder. I cried as he devoured my tender spot because it felt so good, and I knew it was so wrong. His hands gripped my thighs tightly while he flicked his hot tongue in and out of me. When he was done, he smacked his lips like he’d just finished a full-course meal and stood up. His erection pointed straight out, making his boxers look like a tent. He smiled sinisterly down at me, and I cringed, knowing what was about to happen next. He dropped his boxers and began stroking his beast. His dick was big—nine inches long and at least three inches wide—and I often wondered why he wanted me. He could have any woman he desired, but yet, he was in my bedroom every night.

  “You ready, baby?” he spoke to me like his lover, not a child.

  He lifted my nightgown over my head, exposing my already full breasts. His hands palmed each one, and his fingers skillfully massaged the tips of my engorged nipples.

  “I hate you,” I whispered.

  My tears stopped flowing as I accepted my fate, just like every other time. His hands were soft on my skin, but I flinched with every touch. The tips of his fingers trailed down my body until they rested on my hips, gripping them as he prepared to enter me raw. Nino put me on birth control when he first started fucking me to ensure that I didn’t get pregnant. He hated condoms, and he also had a fetish for nutting in my “young pussy.” Leaving his mark.

  “You hate me?” he asked and slid all nine inches inside of me without a warning.

  The thrust was powerful and awakened every sensation my walls had, causing them to clench tightly around his shaft. My back arched, and I clenched my eyes shut at the pain. He thrust again . . . and again. Until the pain subsided only to be replaced by a pleasure so strong I had to bit my lip. Nino placed his mouth by my ear and began whispering things. He told me how beautiful I was and how good it felt inside of me.

  “You’re so beautiful, shorty,” he said over and over as he hit it harder with every stroke. “This shit is dripping, ma!”

  I tried to keep my hands limp at my sides while he defiled my body, but soon, they were gripping his shoulders as he rode me to ecstasy.

  Sadie, no, I thought. Don’t like it. Don’t like—

  “Ahh!” I moaned loudly into his ear when he used his fingers to roughly pinch my right nipple.

  He was diving in so deep, every thrust thumped my love box; soon it was going to burst.

  “This is my pussy,” he panted into my ear. “You hear me, girl? You belong to me! Fuuck! This shit is tight.”

  When it came to Nino, it was a hit and miss. Some nights he was rough and abusive. Other nights, he was sweet and sensual, like a boyfriend. But he wasn’t. He was a rapist. I despised the fact that I was enjoying it. My hips began throwing it at him, matching him stroke for stroke.

  “Yea, I knew you liked this shit, girl! Throw it up at Daddy!”

  My pussy liked it; I didn’t. My mind was screaming to stop; but my body was saying keep going. When I felt my orgasm coming, I tried my hardest to stop it, but that made it come even harder. I screamed, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. It felt like I was peeing, but I knew I wasn’t. Nino pumped three more times before pulling his penis out with his hand and squirting his nut all over my face and hair.

  “You ain’t shit, bitch,” he said coldly standing over me. “You ain’t never going to be shit either. If I tell you to get out there and trap, that’s what the fuck you’re going to do. If I want some pussy, you’re going to part them legs for Daddy. I own you, bitch. You and your momma, and if you don’t do what I say, I will blow ya’ fucking heads off.”

  I turned my head from the scene being played on the television. I couldn’t bear to watch any more. I couldn’t watch the younger tortured me tremble any longer. Whoever had taken me knew about my past . . . Nino? It couldn’t have been. I saw him die. My heart was beating hard, and I was panicking. Although fear was present in my heart, anger was too. Without thinking, I pushed the TV off of the desk that it was placed on. There was a loud crash and glass covered the floor. I snatched the VCR up and flung it against the wall, shattering it into a dozen pieces.

  “Fuck you!” I screamed to my captors, fists balled.

  I was becoming hysterical. I didn’t know how long I’d been passed out, and I wasn’t going to be contained like a fucking animal for some sick pervert’s entertainment. I wondered if Ray knew I was missing. What if he didn’t? I wasn’t strapped. I was defenseless. Under the door I saw a shadow moving and heard footsteps. I looked around my room for anything to defend myself and came up short. Keys jingled, and I heard the lock on the door click, allowing whoever was on the other side entrance. The door slowly opened until the gape was wide enough to step through. The person who stepped through was very handsome, dressed in regular street clothes, and the resemblance between him and the demon from my past was uncanny. I couldn’t help it. I took a few steps bac
k away from him. My knees buckled, and I felt like the helpless fourteen-year-old girl I once was.

  “N-Nino?” I asked, not believing my eyes.

  His curls sat atop of my captor’s head perfectly, just like Nino’s. The skin complexion all the way down to the way he stood was Nino. The man smiled at me and shook his head.

  “Nah, ma.” He stepped closer, and I focused my eyes, realizing that it wasn’t the man from my nightmares after all. The man began walking toward me, stepping over Grandma Rae’s dead body. “My name is Khiron, not that it matters.”

  “Khiron?” I asked confused.

  That was the name of the man Tyler set up to meet with Ray. But why?

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, Sadie,” he said softly as he advanced on me. I saw the butt of his pistol poking through his muscle shirt so I knew rushing him would be the move of a dumb bitch.

  “When Ray finds out—” I started, but was cut off by loud laughter.

  “Not even Ray can save you now, bitch. I’ve been waiting for this shit for six fuckin’ years!”

  Khiron looked down at the broken television and the glass from the screen that was scattered on the bloodstained carpet. He stopped an arm’s length in front of me with his head cocked.

  “What . . . You didn’t like my little home movie? Or should I say, your little home movie?” he chuckled. “Damn, shorty, you was a freak, though. I can see why Nino kept biting.”

  The knots in my stomach tightened. My past, something that I thought was over, had finally caught up to me. I knew he was the one behind all of the havoc being caused in the city, but none of it added up. Ray denied business with him, so the fuck what? That couldn’t have been it.

  “Why are you doing this?” I cut my eyes at him. “Ray is going to kill you.”

  “Ray doesn’t even know what the fuck is going on, bitch. How can you call yourself a kingpin and don’t even know what the fuck is going on in your own city? He ain’t shit but a fuck nigga, but he’s just icing on the cake. You, Sadie? You’re the big fish I’ve been wanting. It was one hell of a coincidence too! When that bitch-ass nigga told me I couldn’t hold his product, I was going to just chill. But then I found out he worked with the Italians. I couldn’t just leave. Not without taking what’s rightfully mine.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I yelled into his face. “And how did you get those tapes?”

  The house burned down. I saw it. There was no way anything could have been preserved . . . least of all, Nino’s sick, fetish tapes. Who the fuck was this nigga, and how did he know about my past? Khiron’s cold stare turned distant and foggy.

  “You were all he ever talked about. He always told me how hustle lived in your heart . . . and how much of a waste it was on a little bitch like you.” Khiron was talking and my mind was reaching, trying to grasp his words. “Imagine my frustration. Being in the shadow of someone I never even met! I was nineteen and on the verge of inheriting an empire bigger than you could ever dream! But because of you, I was held back from it because somehow, you could put in more work than me. That made me . . .” Khiron paused and snapped his fingers. “Now, what was the word he used? Aw yea, that’s right, incompetent.”

  Without warning, he struck me in my face so hard I felt my jaw crack. I fell to the ground with a loud thud, and he walked up and kicked me hard in my ribs. I felt blood flow from my mouth, and I spit it out, clutching my stomach where I lay. Khiron began pacing back and forth in front of me, and he continued with his story.

  “Bitch! I remember the last time he came to visit me. It was the weekend. Summer vacation just started, and he was meeting with an Italian connect in Atlanta, but something was wrong with him. The nigga was jumpy, and a boss is never jumpy. When he left, it was in a hurry, and he forgot his duffle bag. I called it his duffle bag of secrets. He never even said good-bye.”

  He stopped pacing and knelt down in front of my aching face. I was confused. Why would Khiron care about a good-bye from another nigga? I struggled to sit up to face him, my mind reeling. I thought back to Nino’s monthly trips to Atlanta. I knew he went there because he ran big business there, but he also went there to visit . . . Something in my mind clicked, and my heart froze over.

  “You’re his son,” I whispered, wide-eyed. “You’re Nino’s son.”

  I couldn’t believe how naïve I’d been. The resemblance between Khiron and Nino was undeniable. Nino always called Khiron “Khy” when he spoke about him, so I never knew his full name . . . I did now, though. Khiron’s distant look was replaced with coldness once again, and he grabbed me by my hair. He studied my face.

  “Finding out my pops had a thing for young pussy was a little disturbing. That shit was sick, especially since he was still fuckin’ my mom, but I still watched the tapes.” He yanked my head so that his mouth was directly on my ear, and he spoke in a soft, taunting tone. “I watched you beg and scream and cry over and over. He had cameras in his office too, Sadie . . .”

  His voice trailed off and echoed in my head.

  No, I thought, shaking my head, knowing what he was saying.

  My mind took me back to the day I’d broken into Nino’s office. I was so clouded with anger that day six years ago that I’d been careless. I never would have thought Nino would be sick enough to record the malicious acts he did with me, but I should have known that his office was under surveillance. Khiron let go of my hair and leaned back to get a good look at the expression on my face.

  “Priceless,” he said. “Yea, bitch, I knew it was you who had my pops killed. Snitch! You killed everything, bitch!”

  Khiron kicked me again and more blood came up. I knew that unless some sort of miracle happened, I was going to be murdered. I never in a million years thought that the son of the man I had killed would come out looking to spill blood. I felt tears rush to my eyes as the reality hit me. It was my fault D and Amann were dead. Khiron was toying with me. He was enjoying seeing me suffer.

  “Where’s Mocha?” I asked with a mouth full of salty blood. “And Devynn?”

  “Devynn is dead. Bitch took a shotgun shell to the chest,” Khiron laughed, and tears came to my eyes.

  Devynn and I weren’t the closest, but she was a real bitch and a true soldier. She didn’t deserve to die.

  “You bitch!” I screamed. “They didn’t do anything to you! Why did you kill them?”

  “All of you have to die,” he shrugged. “I’m taking Detroit. Fuck a business deal.”

  “No!” I yelled. “Where’s Mocha?”

  I was afraid of what he was going to say. I would take his gun and dead myself if he told me she’d met the same fate as Devynn.

  “Don’t trip, shorty,” Khiron said, his Georgia drawl strong. “That bitch is probably on a yacht chilling, eating crab cakes or some shit.”

  “Stop lyin’, nigga! Where is she?” I snarled, rushing him, only to receive a blow harder than the first one.

  “It’s funny that you’re worried about ya homegirl when she’s the one who gave up your whereabouts. She’s the one who brought me here to Grandma’s house, who, I might add, was one feisty old bitch. You wanna know where she is?”

  Khiron came to where my body was laid out next to Grandma Rae’s and once again grabbed the back of my tussled hair, forcing my head up to look at him. All three of him. As my eyes tried to focus on his face, I heard somebody else enter the room.

  “You wanna know where she is, Sadie?” Khiron yelled, pulling my hair so hard I felt some rip away from my scalp.

  “Yes,” I said weakly, cringing in pain.

  “I’m right here,” a voice so familiar to me said.

  I didn’t want to believe the owner of the voice was my ride-or-die bitch. My day one. But when my eyes averted to the figure standing in the doorway, I knew it was real. My vision was blurry, and my mind slightly out of it, but I could spot Mocha from a mile away. She was my best friend. Was. The betrayal I felt was so powerful, it hurt physically. The
hurt I felt overpowered the anger. Mocha stood over where I was , bleeding in a mixture of my own and Grandma Rae’s blood in a designer dress and open-toe stilettos. She looked like a celebrity. Khiron threw my head back down viciously, almost causing me to black out again before standing up. Through my clouded vision, I watched him walk to Mocha and kiss her sloppily on her mouth. She let him for a second, but then she pushed him off of her.

  “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen, Khiron!” I could hear in her voice that she was starting to cry. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt her!”

  Khiron laughed.

  “Baby, I’m a dope man. That was your mistake if you believed me. This is what I do. If you have a problem, you can join this bitch in the afterlife,” he told her. When she was quiet, he continued. “This bitch killed my pops! This is the bitch responsible for taking my empire, baby! Aw, yea, I’m killing this bitch!”

  I used all of my strength to sit up and stare into Mocha’s eyes. A huge knot was forming on the right side of my face, but I ignored the screeching pain.

  “Why, Mocha?” I asked. “Why would you turn on us?”

  “I-I love him, Sadie,” Mocha said what only a weak bitch would and shrugged her shoulders meekly. “He promised me a life outside of the drug ring. A life of riches without having to put in any work. You know that’s all I ever wanted! This was your dream, Say! Not mine!”

  “You could have had that, Mocha!” I screamed, letting the tears fall. “At any fucking time! I would have had you! You let this snake-ass nigga know where we laid our heads—for what? So you could go shopping all day and sit at home? You’re going to let him take everything for your own selfishness. Fuck you, Mocha. When he kills me, don’t even mourn my death because you’re already dead to me.”

  Mocha’s eyes went wide at my words and a sob escaped her mouth.

  “All those trips to Atlanta.” I shook my head at how dumb I’d been to trust her. That’s how she met Khiron. She was his key to me.