Graveyard Love

by T. C. Littles

  I knew he didn’t include me in the cut, but I listened anyway. I didn’t have any other choice.

  “He’s staying down at Motor City, room 1253. His addiction is gambling. That’s why he came in so early and has plans to hit the dice table hard. He’s got about fifty Gs that Rocko knows of.”

  “Wow, Motor City? They’ve got heavy security down there.”

  We’d never done a hit so large and definitely not in a public place of this magnitude. My mind was racing fast, trying to come up with an outfit and what wig I’d wear.

  I had pounds of foundation in all different shades of brown to cover my light-colored skin, so I knew disguising my face a little wasn’t going to be too much of a problem.

  “When have I ever been froggish about security? Them slow-moving cocksuckers better be on alert for me and Rocko. We tryin’a step into the big leagues and eat off this nigga’s pockets for a minute, ya feel me? So, if you take care of this, we can sit down for a minute.”

  The first thought to cross my mind was how he left my brother hanging, but I was overly thrilled about this being quite possibly our last lick. I wasn’t trying to be Spade’s setup girl forever, or even viler, in some women’s penitentiary rotting away.

  I kept staring at the pictures trying to get my mind right.

  “Spade, that cat looks funny to me. I’m feeling the money, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something about his look that makes me nervous.”

  “Don’t get intimidated. I don’t know much about him, but me and Rocko will be trailing you with the device. Plus, he’s connected to my cuz through some chick he’s banging—we good on this ’cause it’s an inside job. All you’ve gotta do is play your part and play it well. Please don’t tell me you need some motivation.”

  He took another bite of his food, then rubbed his hands together like he was preparing to get me together. I could sense him getting heated. His posture got tense as his shoulders and brows lifted.

  “Naw, baby, I’m good. As always, you already know I’m going to work my magic so you can get some money. Let me go get myself together for the job.” I couldn’t win for losing. Everything I did rubbed him the wrong way.

  “That’s more like it. I’ll bring you a li’l something to get your mind right while you soak in the hot tub. Then we’ve gotta be out. Now go.” He shooed me out of the kitchen.

  3

  Jakia

  I walked into our bathroom to start my hustle day. Popping a Motrin 800 to relax my muscles along with a Valium to calm my nerves, I stared into the mirror and didn’t like what was staring back. I was tired, and without makeup, you could easily notice the dark bags underneath my eyes.

  Every dollar Spade rationed to me from the setups were used to purchase Mac Pro Longwear concealer to cover the stress marks, battle wounds, and enhance the beauty he was helping to wither away.

  Spade has added ten years to my body in just the short while of us kicking it. I was only 19 and damn near looked 30. The youthful appearance I was supposed to have was buried by the life I was living with him.

  The more he said he loved me, the more I felt like his property. Not only was he treating me less and less like his lover and more like a hooker, but he was also putting me in danger by halfway tricking me out to set unsuspecting men up.

  Every ounce of self-worth, respect, and strength I had was stripped from me each time Spade put my life and safety on the line. And to make matters worse, he was going upside my head in private.

  It was hard to believe Spade truly had any love for me because all signs pointed toward me only being the perfect pawn in his scummy street lifestyle. It was nothing I could dwell on. This was the life I chose—or the life that chose me, I wasn’t sure.

  After making sure my long Brazilian wavy hair was secured underneath a few stocking caps, I picked out a long, blond, curly lace front wig that I’d wear as mine today.

  It was going to go perfect with the catsuit I’d just ordered online. Since I spent so much time nursing my battle wounds, I seldom went to public places like the mall. So I used setups or date nights to model my wardrobe.

  I slid into the hot bubble bath and allowed the lavender smell to soothe my overwhelmed body. Today was gonna be a long day with a lot of money on the line, and I couldn’t be the one to mess up.

  Like always, it was crucial every move I made on this unsuspecting cat was perfect ’cause if anything went wrong, Spade would be on my head in a heavy sort of way.

  It was my job in the trio to sexually seduce men and put them into a position where Spade and Rocko could successfully rob them. Even though it was damn near impossible, Spade expected me to control the situation and prevent as much touching as possible.

  Sex with them was definitely out of the question. If I failed to keep these men off of me, Spade punished me afterward and was upside my head by the time we got alone. It was never a win-win situation. I was always in a catch-22.

  “Here’s some fruit, a Mimosa, and a fat cigarillo to get you right.” Spade made good on his word, cutting into my time in the bathroom.

  I guess this tray was some weak-ass apology for knocking my food on the floor earlier. I popped a few grapes in my mouth, not daring to speak one ill word. It wouldn’t have killed him to utter the words “I’m sorry” once in a while, though.

  “Are you good on ole boy, or do you need another rundown?” he questioned, leaning back against the sink and lighting the blunt. Spade always liked to be prepared. He lived off the wealth of other men in the streets, so it was vital his moves were always quicker and well thought out.

  “I listened just like you told me earlier, but I’ll feel better if you tell me again.”

  I reached for the blunt and inhaled deeply while he started running down everything once again. As much as I tried to stay focused on every word coming out of his mouth, I was lost up in the physical attraction.

  Don’t get me wrong. Spade was a monster. But his dick game was mad crazy, and our physical attraction to each other couldn’t be denied! My pussy was starting to want seconds. There wasn’t a time his big, black, 250-pound body didn’t make me orgasm.

  “A’ight, you’ve got it?”

  “Most definitely, but can this be the last time, though? Since it’s at least twelve and a half Gs waiting for us today, can we try to milk that for a while until you find a replacement?”

  “I see you do math good,” he chuckled. “We’ll see. You do such a damn good job, and if I bring another bitch in, I’ll have to split our cut more ways. Just stay focused on today.”

  “You’ve got it, daddy,” I replied, knowing I didn’t have a choice to deny him of what he truly wanted—which was to use me.

  “That’s my girl.” He leaned in, kissing me on the forehead. “Don’t be all day in here, Kia. You’ve got one hour tops to be dressed and downstairs so we can get out of here.” Just as quickly as he’d entered, he was gone.

  I blew through the rest of the blunt and zoned out remembering a little over a year ago when I first made my deal with the devil.

  Twelve Months Ago . . .

  When Juan’s visitation list first opened up in prison, Spade volunteered to be my transportation for the two-hour ride. The prison chaplin knew my mother was a drug addict, and I was the only family my brother had.

  He, along with the inmates’ shrink, felt it was best to have me visit as much as possible for my youthful brother’s initial adjustment to the long prison term he was facing. Spade driving made that happen.

  He put it on being loyal to my brother, but it was the least he could do since my bloodline was doing time for a crime Spade committed. I didn’t complain, though, ’cause it guaranteed me the time Juan said I needed to get on the inside.

  It was hard being around him at first, knowing if it weren’t for his gutter ways rubbing off on my brother, I’d still have my comfort zone, but I couldn’t jeopardize my ride with a sharp tongue and bitter feelings. So, I guess you could say I was slowly learning ho
w to play my position.

  As the days went by on our many road trips, I tried everything time and time again to show him my availability; laughing at his jokes that weren’t funny, frying him chicken for the ride, and sometimes bending over in the rear seat acting like I was getting something so he could see my ass in the air.

  Initially, he was playing that role acting like he wasn’t about hitting off his man’s li’l sister and that his chick Tiff would flip out. But my attempts were far from subtle, and I ain’t never been friendly with females.

  In other words—fuck how Tiff was feeling. I had a game plan to execute. No matter how hard he tried to deny me, I continuously threw my stacked body into his face.

  I was relentless when it came to pressing him hard with my pursuit. Once he found out my pussy juice was virgin fresh, I didn’t have to press much longer.

  When Spade hit my cell up on my eighteenth birthday talkin’ about getting a room at the Atheneum, I didn’t wait five minutes before writing Juan a letter to tell him the game was on.

  I couldn’t wait for him to break the seal on the envelope and read I was close to on my way up out of Phoebe’s house. This had been all we’d written about since he’d been locked up. What I didn’t expect was to be part of a threesome that included me, Spade, and his girlfriend Tiff.

  Her face was ice-cold pissed when she saw me walk through the room with my hand interlocked with Spade’s. I thought I was about to be in for a birthday catfight, but, instead, she welcomed me to the bed just like he was doing.

  Already, my young mind was turned out, but Spade was aiming to do much more damage. That night, Tiff threw it on him like I’d seen Phoebe do many nights—but wasn’t nothing competing with my show.

  He might’ve been jerking from her sloppy head job, but his eyes were fixated on me. And when it was my time to shine, I threw it on him hard, young-girl-gone-wild style.

  Even Tiff had to fall back and give my young-ass props. The longer she watched me, though, the more ripped her mug became.

  Juan would be proud. He told me dudes liked chicks to get scummy in the bedroom, so you better believe I was doing just that. Within the year it took to get here, I’d watched every freak-nasty, no-moral porn on Xnx I could find and practiced moving my body seductively in the mirror for hours.

  All my crunches and squats had paid off. Spade was going wild crazy while Tiff watched sourly. Yeah, chick, you’ve just been replaced. Little did I know, I should’ve stayed in my own lane from back when I first said he was no good.

  Our first night together had us both gone. Not sure of the outcome, I pulled out all the punches. The more twirls I did on the internet-ordered travel pole Tiff bought, the more his eyes bulged, and his manhood sprang out of his pants.

  All my training and hard work paid off quickly, placing me deep into his pockets, but even deeper into his deceiving world. Tiff worked like a beast in the bedroom that night and several days following our weeklong hiatus of a three-person couple.

  When he dropped her off at home after the fourth night, I hopped in the front seat kicking the little gum from the bottom of my shoe off at her. I didn’t know how Spade paid her back for throwing a tire rod at his car, ’cause I was too busy writing to Juan that his li’l sis was winning.

  Please believe that after Spade realized he could get winning head and sex on-demand, I was packing up my most prized cheap possessions and leaving the rat-infested scum-hole Phoebe called a home.

  Without remorse, I walked out of the bedroom I’d been barricading myself in and dropped the bolted lock and key onto the warped wooden floor in front of her. Departing ways with my mom wasn’t hard, emotional, or even a tear-jerking Twitter tweet.

  “Here, maybe you can sell this lock for a dollar!”

  “Aw, you li’l bitch, I see you feelin’ yo’self. That nigga gonna get you caught up just like he did yo’ stupid-ass brother,” she spoke and shook.

  “As long as I don’t end up like my stupid-ass mother, then I’m good,” I hissed, then turned my back on her.

  She didn’t dare bark back ’cause I was stacked tight enough to drop her with one punch. I walked out the door with the few green garbage bags of belongings I’d managed to keep from her stealing hands with my head held high.

  Graduating high school was an afterthought at this moment in time. I glanced over my shoulder seeing Phoebe leap off the couch. Did she rush over to me? Naw, that witch sprinted into my bedroom scavenging for whatever I left behind.

  Grabbing the change bank off my now-old dresser, she beat me down the front porch stairs, then shattered the pink porcelain ballerina bank she’d gotten me for my fourth birthday on the hot concrete walkway.

  When old, tiny, colorful buttons I’d collected and filled it with went flying everywhere instead of coins, Phoebe looked at me with pure hate.

  “So, you’re just gonna leave me broke down and with nothing? You don’t care if I die?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer, but I wasn’t going to anyway. “Well, fuck you too, Jakia. The same grave you want me in, you’ll fall in before I will,” she bitterly spoke as I hopped in Spade’s car. “Karma is a bitch, and knowledge costs.”

  “Gon’ and kiss my ass, Momma,” I spat. “You ain’t got no kids now. Let’s just consider this our final goodbye.”

  Jakia

  Standing at the top of the stairs, I heard the surround sound speakers playing an episode of “Breaking Bad.” In a perfect world, I’d be able to cuddle up on the couch with my man and a blanket, completely caught up in the melodrama that was Walter White. But our dynamic was everything but simple.

  Finally, at the end of the stairwell, I saw Spade stretched out on the leather sectional with his phone nestled in his hand. Day in and out, he stayed lurking on cats’ Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter pages scoping for a come-up.

  The more they flashed and celebrated their riches on social networks, the wealthier our crew became. Spade and Rocko stayed snatching niggas down from their pedestals. Unfortunately, that also included me.

  I watched Spade’s tattooed chest rise up and down as he slept deep and without fear. His dreads hung around his smoke-black skin as his tight jawline signified deep thought and anticipation of the lick we were hours away from walking in on. I wished the pain in my eyes could penetrate through his soul and kill him. I was too scared to even attempt it for real.

  My Red Bottom six-inch heels clicked on the marble floor as I made my way across the foyer into the living room. Spade jerked out of his sleep at the sound, startled by my introduction.

  “Damn, a nigga was sleeping good.” He rubbed his temples before stretching and yawning. “Thank you for not making me come up there.” He sat up, looking me up and down. From the nod and smirk on his face, he seemed to be pleased.

  “Well, do you like what you see?” I modeled for him, walking back and forth across the room. I even had to admire my own reflection in the full-length mirrors that covered one of our walls.

  Spade watched my body intently as I worked the hell out of the black, one-piece catsuit that suffocated every curve and proportion of my stacked frame. From the slight bulge in his pants, I’d chosen the right “get money outfit” and was off to a good start.

  But with all the shots he constantly took at my ego, I needed to hear the words. Spade judged me hard, and if I would’ve come down here looking broken down and off the clearance rack, he’d roast me rough or smack me up. With Tiff lurking in the background, I kept my presence up on a regular.

  “Without a doubt, baby girl, that ass is getting thick.” He licked his lips, then pushed his dreads from off his forehead. “Come over here, ma. Let me get a close-up of you.” He slid back comfortably and opened his legs wide. “You sure are looking like money.” He grinned devilishly, showing his filthy intentions.

  “Well, you did say it was big money for us on the line. I want to make sure I catch his eye.”

  “Good job. I would say you’re ready for work. You’ve got the gir
ls sitting high and looking delicious.” Saliva was forming at the corners of his mouth as he rubbed his hands all over my frame.

  My face might’ve aged, but my body was still on point. I was a bad bitch, and he knew it. That’s why he used my looks to make us money. He snuggled his head into my chest, then leaned up for a kiss.

  “Come on, babe, don’t mess up the package,” I smiled teasingly as he continued to kiss my lipstick off.

  “Oh, I like it when you’re ready to make that chedda. But this right here is all mine,” he said, grabbing the gap between my legs.

  The jumpsuit cuffed my imprint perfectly, letting everyone know I was working with something great.

  “Don’t be in a rush to flaunt it, though,” he scorned. “You know a nigga gets mad jealous.”

  “Then you should let me up out of the game. I’m supposed to be your girl, not the number one worker on your roster. I know you’ve got hoes in the streets. Why don’t you put one of them at risk?”

  “Okay, I’ve heard that shit enough, Jakia. Don’t have me slap you up real quick.” He flipped from touching me sexually to aggressively grabbing me. “I’m gonna bust yo’ head to the white meat if you throw me off my square, so you better get your emotions in check real quick. I might have a plethora of bitches, but you’re the best out of all of ’em for the job.”

  I bit my lip and nodded, bottling up a ton of anger and bitterness. If this man had love for me, he had a way of making it seem like hate.

  “Now, get your shit and let’s get ready to rock and roll. I’ve had enough of trying to baby you, Jakia. You already know the deal. It’s hustle time, baby.”

  With that, he snatched my wrist and flung me to the door. I tripped over the rug with my stilettos, almost falling but managed to keep my composure and stand tall. Ain’t no telling what swift blows I would suffer on the ground beneath him.