by Kenya Wright
I gave up on talking to him. Any man that could hold onto a grudge for more than a decade, could not be talked to.
Giorgio pulled out both of his wallets—white and black.
Oh, here we go. Here we fucking go. I’ve already waited for centuries.
Giorgio placed the black wallet on his lap as he always did when he drove. It was something about not wanting to add more wrinkles to his pants. He opened the white one, pulled out a few wipes, and cleaned the steering wheel.
“You know that could be considered insulting,” I said. “I don’t have germs.”
He wiped down the dash and anywhere he would have to touch in order to drive. He grabbed for another wipe.
“Okay. It’s clean!” I’d probably yelled louder than necessary, but I was a man on the edge. “I’ve waited long enough, Giorgio.”
“Someone hasn’t been having sex in a while. I wonder who that is.” Giorgio pulled out a small Ziplock bag from the white wallet, folded the dirty wipes one at a time, and then placed them in the Ziplock bag.
I muttered under my breath, “Jesus, Mary, and the other guy.”
With the wallet folded, he placed that on his lap.
I rubbed my face with one hand. “I’m just glad no one is shooting at us right now, because we would be dead.”
This is why Jean-Pierre never lets Giorgio drive him around.
The key was already in the ignition. A wise man would’ve simply started the car and drove off. Giorgio needed to clean the keys. And then place that stained cloth into the bag with the other dirty wipes, which then went into another tiny bag.
He’s fucking with me. Right? He can’t be serious.
Just when I thought Giorgio had finally finished, he pulled out a comb from his breast pocket, gazed into the rearview mirror, and ran the comb carefully through his hair.
I pulled out my gun but didn’t point it at him. “I swear to God I will shoot you right now, if you don’t put that comb up.”
“You’ve never been one for etiquette.” Frowning, Giorgio put the comb back in his pocket, leaned forward, and finally drove us way.
Thank you for this small mercy.
While we headed to Shalimar’s present address, I thought back to my childhood.
Many had changed from boys to man, but Giorgio had remained the same. He’d been a neat freak as a kid. The cleanest boy on any playground. At times, he could be found wiping another kid’s snotty nose or tidying up their shoelaces. His catholic school uniforms had been tailored and impeccable. His mom would brag to everyone how he ironed all his clothes himself. That blabbering had our mothers thinking we could iron too. I intentionally burned a hole into my jeans to stop that thinking.
But Giorgio remained the Golden boy. One summer, he spent the days, volunteering to wash dishes and sweep for our mothers. That made him the favorite to all of them, until years later they discovered he’d been banging their maids.
I turned to him. “Which maid took your virginity?”
Giorgio frowned. “What? That’s an odd question.”
“You have an odd fetish.”
“Fucking a maid is not a fetish.”
“I bet it is.”
“It’s not.”
“Why do you like to do it?”
“Why do you care so much about my dick?”
“Good point. Keep your dirty little secret.”
“Perhaps, that’s the point. Maids are good at cleaning up dirty secrets.” Giorgio had always said that. Even at a young age.
For some reason I thought of that fact right now. It seemed important, if not significant to my life. In fact, everything began to feel like it connected to other parts.
I thought back to Jean-Pierre and my relationship.
When Jean-Pierre’s father was killed, his mother and him had come to live with us.
Jean-Pierre and I built a secret fort in the yard. We’d sit in it, smoke stolen cigarettes, and lie about our adventures to each other.
Jean-Pierre coughed and gave me the cigarette with his small hands. “I think I’ve killed a hundred men by now, but I stopped counting at fifty.”
“Me too. I’ve killed a hundred men. Kids will tell you about it, when you go to school this year.” I took the cigarette and inhaled. The smoke entered my lungs. I must’ve coughed and spit on the fort floor for a good hour.
We hadn’t killed anyone and didn’t comprehend the true idea of power or death. We were fatherless boys, pretending at being men.
We’ve been trying to figure out how to be men all our lives.
I wasn’t sure when we truly learned to be men. Perhaps, the world was still teaching us. Surely, blood and violence brought lessons.
Either way, Jean-Pierre and I had the strongest bond out of all of our cousins. It was a fierce one that no one could break. But every time Shalimar’s name rose in this situation, and the dead bodies continued to link between her and Eden’s safety, I worried what would happen to our bond.
Will there be a moment, when I would have to choose?
My phone rang.
I picked up. “Yes?”
Louis came on the line. “I figured out why Shalimar doesn’t leave her spot.”
“Why not?”
“She’s making money doing nude webcam shows.”
I didn’t like her showing her body to anyone else. Especially, when I could give her all the money she needed.
You know I would give you the money, and you wouldn’t have to talk to me.
“She’s on the web now,” Louis said. “I was going to send the feed to your phone.”
“Do it.” I covered the bottom of my phone and looked at Giorgio. “Pull over. I want to check something.”
The signal was doing good now, but I didn’t want it to go out as we continued to drive.
Giorgio slipped the car over to a parking lot with an abandoned corner store. No other spots were open. The area had shut down for the evening.
I got out the car, not wanting Giorgio to see Shalimar naked on my phone. I walked past the building to get out of Giorgio’s eyesight. Who knew how hard my cock would get with Shalimar’s body bare to me?
You just want to grip your cock while you watch her. Be real.
And with the amount of time that Giorgio had made me wait, I could give a fuck about him sitting in the car, while I watched Shalimar on my phone several feet behind a closed store.
My phone rang.
I opened the link.
Shalimar appeared on my screen. My jaw tightened.
Shit.
Makeup adorned her face. Blood shifted to lusty heat in my veins. My cock throbbed. Went rock hard between my thighs. I checked around and went deeper into the shadows, unable to take my gaze away from the screen.
“Hello, lover,” she whispered seductively to the camera. “I’m here to fulfill you’re every need. Press the button below and I will do the commands. Each one costs.”
I stared at the buttons below her screen. For twenty dollars, she would take off the dress. For a hundred, she would go naked completely. For two hundred, she would masturbate.
You’re not even asking close to your value, Shalimar.
I clicked masturbate. My cock ached in my pants. The sale went through. Louis knew me well. He’d know I would want to buy.
I checked behind me. No one was around.
“Oh, we have a big spender this evening.” Shalimar giggled. Exactly the way she would with me. The way that would trigger my cock to go hard. The way it would make me groan her name.
I thought that giggle was mine.
I leaned against the wall, reached for my zipper before I stopped suddenly, and shut my eyes tight.
What am I doing? Fuck it. I know what I’m doing.
Shalimar was about to show me every inch of her gorgeous skin. She was going to open those thighs and show me how wet that pussy was, right on high-definition camera.
“I’m going to spread my pussy apart for you,” Shalimar whispered t
o the camera.
“Please.” I rubbed the length of my cock.
“I’m going to stick my fingers in this pussy and think of you inside it.”
Yes, baby. Think of my cock.
How I wished she could really be mine. My possession. All mine. How I wished she would talk like this in front of me.
She took her time taking off her clothes, and I studied every movement. What was it about her that made me crazy? Was it her face? Those exotic eyes? Those petite tits, with the stiff nipples I loved to nibble. What made me crazy? Hooked? Obsessed? Insane? Addicted?
She’d taken off the dress, just her bra and panties remained. Now I could see the dragon tattoo running down her right hip and ending at her thigh.
“Or,” she whispered “Mr. Big Spender can be greedy and selfish. Would you like a private show, or do you want to share—”
I pressed the private show button as soon as it popped up. It had cost five hundred. I would’ve paid ten times that much.
She blinked at the camera, as if unsure to proceed. Guys that watched these cam shows usually had no money. That was why they sat on the computer. Real horny bastards with extra cash went to a strip club or brothel. So the webcam audience probably took some time to nickel and dime her.
Do you know it’s me?
The camera view widened. A chat screen appeared on the right.
“The chat allows us to talk, if you want.” She played with her bra straps and then took it off.
I typed into the screen. “Take your panties off.”
“Why in such a hurry?” She spread her legs open and pinched her nipples.
I typed. “I want to see your pussy.”
“That’ll cost a little more.”
I smiled.
You know you’ve got me hooked, so you’re going to keep pulling me forward.
I typed back. “How much?”
“Another five hundred.”
“And how much to fuck you?”
“That’s not an option.”
“We’ll see.”
She frowned. “What?”
“See you in a few, sweet dragon.”
“Rafael?!”
The screen shut off. I put my cock back in my pants. It hadn’t gone down. I knew it wouldn’t until I saw her.
I headed back to the car.
Giorgio eyed me. “What took you so long?”
“Get out. I’m driving.”
We switched, and I sped through the streets.
After a half an hour, we made it to Shalimar’s apartment and parked. She’d rented the place on Airbnb for two months. So far, she’d barely been in there for a week. She took no guests, barely left, ordered food delivery, and only went out to her balcony to smoke cigarettes.
I figured I had time.
I would let her relax, calm her nerves, and mourn her mother and sister. She was running from something. It wouldn’t get her. I had ten men around her.
She was supposed to have time. . .but Eden and Celina. . .
I couldn’t just blame them. Whatever Celina had done, Shalimar must’ve been a part of, or at least a willing participant in other parts of the game. Celina’s biggest ally had died. Kazimir’s, Uncle Igor. She would need some leverage now.
What did you take that people are killing others to get?
I got out the car, saw my men in different parked vans around the block, and moved deeper into the shadows near the apartment building. Shalimar had found a rental that provided lots of dark nooks and corners. Good hide-and-seek spots, in case one needed to rush away.
I thought of Jean-Pierre and my old fort. We’d pretended to build it for fun, but really, we’d been scared. Both our fathers had been killed—one way or the other. Our mothers had been in control, but when kids lost too early, they built a mistrust with the world.
And we’re still walking around trying to build forts. Now we’re just trying to put women in them.
I passed my men who’d been guarding her place and knocked on the door.
She didn’t answer.
I knocked again. “Open it up, before I kick it through.”
The door clicked.
It opened.
A pissed Shalimar stood on the other side. She hadn’t put the dress back on. Instead, she had a thin shirt and small shorts on. The dragon tattoo peaked out from her right thigh. “What were you doing on my site?”
“Watching you touch yourself for a couple twenties.”
“Fuck you.”
“Please.” I walked in.
She hissed behind me.
“That’s not a warm welcome.” I strolled into the apartment’s small bedroom. “Where’s the camera?”
“In the bedroom of course.”
“Good.” I headed back that way.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting rid of it.” I pulled out my gun.
“Rafael!”
My temper flared. I reacted. With force, I yanked the bedroom door open, entered, spotted the camera, pointed, and shot three times.
“Rafael, really?!”
I put the gun away. “Okay. That’s over. Now get back on the bed and finish my session.”
“Or you’re going to shoot me?”
I glared at her.
“Don’t look at me that way.”
I couldn’t hold down the rage anymore. “You need money. You come to me!”
“I don’t love you.”
That hit me just as hard, as if she’d slapped me.
“It doesn’t matter, Shalimar, I would still give it to you.”
“I do what I have to do.”
“Which is stupid.” I set my gun on the nightstand. “Who’s after you?”
“Not this again.”
“Celina is in Paris.”
Shalimar widened her eyes.
“Why is she here?” I studied Shalimar. “I’m not leaving until you tell me everything.”
She raised her hands to the top of her shorts and slipped it down. The fabric fell to the ground. The bra and panties greeted my eyes.
Now so close, I would have no control. My mind went instantly to lust. I closed the distance between us. “Why do you make me so crazy? Why do I want you so much?”
“Because I cursed your dick.”
I paused. “What?”
“I went to an old French woman down the block in Belladonna and gave her two thousand dollars to curse your dick.”
“Well, it didn’t work.”
“It will.”
“Let me make love to you tonight, Shalimar.”
“And what would I get out of it?”
“Money. Anything you need. I want to touch you,” I begged. “Please. Let me taste you.”
I walked across the room, closer to her. I pulled her into my arms and slipped my hands down to her behind. For the first time in a long time, I cupped that soft ass in my hands. “It’s that simple, Shalimar. Give me the amount. Give me the price. Say the words. I’m desperate.”
A wicked grin spread across her face. “Just to touch this pussy?”
“Yes.” I slipped my hands down to her ass, moved them lower, and slipped my fingers into her panties. For a few seconds, my fingertips were wet with her, before she moved them away.
Sad, beautiful eyes stared at me through long, dark lashes. “This isn’t going to go the way you want it to, Rafael.”
“Yes, it will.”
“You’re not Jean-Pierre. You’re a piece of shit and a monster.”
“Am I?” I crashed my lips against hers, kissing her as if it would mean death, if I didn’t. She moaned. I pulled her against me, deepening our kiss. My tongue searched for hers, sweeping through her mouth, reminding me of how much I loved her taste. How I’d longed for it. Craved it.
Her soft moans filled the air between our mouths. Her body trembled against mine. The more I kissed her, the stronger my desire for her became. Sweet lips of ecstasy tempted me—seduced me into wanting so much more, leaving me unsated
, if I didn’t have all of her.
I moved a hand up her shoulder, fingers weaving through her silky black hair. I fisted it in my palm, forcing her head back. My lips slipped from hers, lapping down the skin of her neck. More moans echoed from the back of her throat. I could feel her resistance crumble with every passing second my mouth remained on hers.
“Rafael,” she whispered against my lips. “Please, stop.”
With heavy reluctance I pulled away just an inch, closing my eyes from the ache of wanting her, but knowing it wasn’t that simple.
“Please, Shalimar. Just one more kiss.”
“Get away from me.”
Grunting, I backed up and spoke through clenched teeth, “If you won’t give me you, then give me answers.”
“I won’t give you anything, Rafael.”
“What about Eden?”
She rolled her eyes. “What about her?”
“Tell me what the danger is, so I can make sure—”
“Did Jean-Pierre make you come to me?”
“What?”
“Go!”
“This is stupid, Shalimar. Do you even have a plan?”
“Bigger than anyone that you could ever think of.”
“Meaning?”
“Stay out of Celina’s and my way, and you won’t get hurt.”
I laughed. “You’re the one that’s going to get hurt, if you think Celina has your back.”
As if unsure of herself for a few seconds, she bit her bottom lip. It drove me crazy. My cock jumped in my pants.
She walked around me.
I didn’t turn. All I could do was grip my cock.
I knew this wasn’t going to work, Jean-Pierre. I can’t hurt her, and I won’t force her to tell me. She knows that.
She said from behind, “You should leave now.”
I turned.
She had my own gun pointed at me.
Maybe, Giorgio should’ve come in here with me.
I leaned my head to the side. “You’re going to shoot?”
“I am.”
“Fine. I’ll go.” I put my hand out. “Before I leave then, give me my fucking heart back.”
The gun trembled in her hand. “I don’t have it.”
“You do. You fucking took it. You ripped it out of my damn chest and stomped on it with those red heels.
“Liar,” she whispered. “You didn’t have a heart when I met you.”
“Then, maybe I wasn’t born with one.”