A Favor for a Favor

by J-Blunt

  “Nah. Not yet. Maybe anotha day or two. I need you and Princess to take care of somethin’ for me.”

  “You know I got you, baby. What you want me to do?”

  Chapter 17

  “I been havin’ dreams of killin’ a nigga while we fuckin’.”

  Princess took her eyes off the road and looked over at her twin sister like she was crazy. “Bitch, what the fuck you just say?”

  Queenie finished typing the text before setting her phone on the dashboard. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

  “Who does that? Who has dreams about killin’ people they fuckin’? Was it Pop?”

  “Nah. They never have faces.”

  Princess shook her head. “What the fuck Pop do to you? You used to be quiet and naive. Now you just like him.”

  “Since I been with him, I feel so alive. Like I can be anything and do anything. I never felt like this before.”

  “That’s ‘cause yo’ ass is in love.”

  Queenie blushed and rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

  “I’m serious. I know you love Pop. He do, too. You know he not gon’ be in love wit’ you back, right?”

  Queenie sighed deeply, staring out the window at the traffic. “I know. And it don’t really matter. I mean, it do, but I know Pop. He not wit’ that romance and love shit. All he want is loyalty.”

  “You ever talk to him about love?”

  “Not really. It never really came up.”

  “It might not be a bad conversation to have when he get back in town. Is this the house right here?”

  Queenie looked up at the red and blue house. “Yeah. That’s his truck right there. Park a couple houses away.”

  “So, what we gon’ do? Walk up to the house and call him outside and say let’s talk?”

  “Nope. He should be out any second. That was him I was just textin’.”

  “How you get his number?”

  “I made a fake Instagram and Facebook right after I talked to Po. This nigga liked all my pictures. Look.” Queenie showed Princess her phone. The pictures made her eyes pop.

  “Girl, you don’t look nothin’ like Skittlez. Why you doin’ our girl like that?”

  “Short notice. You got a better plan?”

  “No. But look, there he go. Damn, he big! You sure about this?”

  Queenie pulled the 357 from the glove compartment and smiled. “I neva met a nigga that was bulletproof.”

  When the blue Suburban pulled away from the curb, Princess trailed him in the rented Buick Lacrosse. They stopped in a Walmart parking lot a couple minutes later. Queenie’s phone buzzed. It was a text.

  “He ready for me. Wish me luck.”

  Princess looked worried. “You sure you don’t want me to come wit’ chu? That nigga big and look crazy.”

  Queenie stuffed the revolver into her Prada clutch as she climbed from the car. “Chill, sis. I got this.”

  Queenie left the rented Buick dressed in a tight-fitting black t-shirt, a black mini-skirt, and heels. She powerwalked toward the Suburban, stopping at the passenger door and knocking on the window.

  When the driver seen her, a million questions showed on his face as he lowered the window. “What up?”

  Queenie smiled up at him like he won a prize on a game show. “Hey, Nitty. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

  He frowned. “I know you?”

  “Not really, but I’m hopin’ we can change that. I’m Star.”

  Surprise and mistrust showed on his face. “Why you send me a picture of somebody else?”

  “I got my reason. Can I get in so we can talk about it?”

  Nitty eyed her for a few seconds before nodding. “Yeah. Help me understand why someone as bad as you out here catfishin’ niggas.”

  Queenie could feel Nitty’s eyes all over her body as she climbed in the truck. He skirt rose high on her tattooed thighs as she sat in the passenger seat. Nitty watched her struggle to pull it back down over her thickness. “It wasn’t like that. I created Star to get Bitcoin money from those internet tricks. I ran up a check doin’ that shit. Then, when I seen you in my DM, I remembered you. You still don’t know who I am?”

  He studied her face, then let his eyes roam across her body again. “You look familiar, but I don’t know why.”

  “I used to fuck wit’ Pop Somethin’.”

  Nitty’s face twisted into a mean mug. “I remember you now. You was in my house when that nigga sucka-punched me. Where that ho-nigga at? I’ma fuck his bitch-ass up!”

  “I don’t know where that nigga at. Fuck him. I don’t fuck wit’ that nigga no more. I wish you woulda whooped his ass.”

  “When I catch ‘im, I’ma blaze ‘im. That’s my word!”

  “Good. He got that comin’. But fuck him. Like I was sayin’, when you DMed me, I remembered you and I thought you was sexy as fuck. I didn’t wanna blow up my hustle, so I had to lie a li’l bit. I wasn’t trynna set you up or nothin’. I just didn’t wanna fuck up my hustle.”

  Nitty smiled, satisfied with the explanation. “So, them niggas online be cashin’ you out, huh?”

  “You’d be surprised what a nigga do for a pussy picture,” she laughed.

  Nitty looked over her body lustfully, his eyes resting on her thighs. “Fuck a picture. I need the real thang.”

  Queenie gave him a sexy stare. “That could be arranged.”

  Nitty smiled. “On what?”

  “I don’t believe in promises. I believe in blue cheese.”

  “A dollar, huh? Okay. I’ma play. Where we goin’?”

  Queenie looked toward the backseat. “How long you wanna play? Yo’ backseat look big enough to go a couple rounds in.”

  “Lemme find somewhere to park.”

  While Nitty drove, Queenie freed his dick from his pants and gave him head. A few minutes later he pulled the suburban into an alley. He was so concerned with busting a nut that he didn’t notice the Buick pull into the alley behind him.

  Queenie pushed him onto the backseat and pulled a rubber from her purse. After strapping him up, she climbed on top and rode fast and hard. Thoughts of sex and murder had Queenie lost in sexual bliss. Nitty moaned beneath her, palming her ass and enjoying the ride. His eyes were closed and he was so caught up in the sex that he didn’t notice Queenie pull the pistol from her purse.

  She waited until her orgasm was close. She watched Nitty’s face as she rode him. His fuck faces were beyond ugly, like a Saint Bernard mixed with a gorilla.

  When she put the pistol to his head and cocked the hammer, his eyes shot open. Fear and confusion shown in them.

  Queenie pulled the trigger and came at the same time. Blood spattered across her face as she cried out in ecstasy. The orgasm racked through her body, lasting a full minute, coming in waves. She was delirious with pleasure as she sat on the dead man’s lap. She had never felt so good or came so hard. Fucking and killing was the ultimate high.

  She stared into his death mask while she caught her breath. His eyes were still open. And blank.

  “I’m a goddess,” she mumbled before climbing out of the SUV.

  ***

  Pop grunted in frustration, slapping his hand against the C-HR’s steering wheel. He had been in New Orleans for seven days, and the way things were looking, he might be stuck there for another day. Hector’s BMW sat in the driveway of his house. It hadn’t moved in four days since the Mexican left with his family in an Uber for the airport. Pop had checked the house every day to see if the family had returned. Four days in a row he drove away disappointed.

  The only good thing that had come from his trip was it gave him an alibi. Shanice called him right after Nitty died, cursing him out. Pop swore he was still out of town. He hadn’t heard from his cousin since, but he planned to check up on her as soon as he got back to Texas.

  As he drove away from Hector’s house, Pop thought about his bitches. Queenie was a beast, a homicidal maniac who got turned on by murder. She was the Yin to his Yang. He d
idn’t’ believe in soul mates, but if he did, Queenie was his.

  And then there was Princess, his wild card. A headstrong, bad bitch with an unbreakable will. A woman who could separate business from pleasure, sex from emotions, and love from loyalty. She was the flip side of his coin. Together the twins possessed everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. The added bonus being the sisters were also lovers. Somewhere deep inside he knew the incestuous sisters were fucked up in the head, but that didn’t bother him enough to stop them from being his bitches.

  Vibrating on his lap caused him to abandon thoughts of his ride-or-dies. When he picked up the phone, ‘Nurse’ was showing on the screen. “What up, Ms. Baccara?” he smiled.

  “How come you can call me by my last name, but I can’t call you by yours?”

  “Because you a professional woman. I use it as a sign of respect. Plus, that shit sound sexy as fuck.”

  She laughed. “Whatever. But just so you know, my name is Joslyn.”

  “Nah, that don’t turn me on like Ms. Baccara do. I got you in my phone as ‘nurse.’ That’s how I wanna keep it.”

  “Whatever floats your boat. So, what are you up to?”

  “Shit. Been wonderin’ when you was gon’ call. What you up to?”

  “Nothing. Sick and tired of New Orleans. Ready to leave. Tired of this punta that calls himself my man.”

  “I know just the thing to take yo’ mind off yo’ problems.”

  “I’m open to suggestions. What you got in mind?”

  “Me.”

  “C’mon, Pop. Stop playing.”

  “I ain’t playin’. I wanna see you. I dreamed about you the night we met at the gas station. We fucked in the exam room. Since the punta is pissin’ you off, why don’t you come to my hotel room and let me take yo’ mind off all yo’ problems. I’m good at easin’ people’s minds.”

  She was quiet for a few seconds. “You know, hearing you talk like this is making me so horny. I might have to take you up on your offer.”

  “Might?” Pop questioned. “What the fuck are you waitin’ for?”

  ***

  When Pop opened the hotel door, Ms. Baccara stood in the hallway dressed in a pair of tight-fitting pink nurse scrubs. The Columbian beauty wore light make-up, her full lips glossy and wet with red lipstick, her hair piled atop her head in a bun. She walked into the room looking like a mix between Eva Mendez and J-Lo.

  Pop grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his arms. “Girl, getcho fine ass in here!”

  They kissed and stripped their way to the bed. By the time they fell atop the covers, they were naked. Pop attacked her body like a hungry animal, manhandling her as they rolled across the bed. The nurse moaned in delight, loving his aggressive nature. Pop wasted no time getting in her guts. Her pussy was tight and wet, and the noises she made had Pop in the zone.

  She moaned and clawed his back, loving the deep strokes, wanting more and more. When Pop busted his nut, in the back of his mind he wondered how he would convince Queenie and Princess to make room in their bed for the nurse.

  ***

  On his twelfth day in Louisiana, Pop finally got the moment he had been waiting for. Hector had come back home. Pop trailed the blue BMW to Dunkin Doughnuts. When the Mexican went inside, Pop got in position. Hector walked out of the doughnut shop sipping coffee, holding a bag of sweets. When he made it to his car, he sat the bag of goodies on the roof to dig into his pocket for the keys. Pop timed his approach perfectly. When the lawyer looked up, Pop was only a few feet away, the big revolver pointed at his face. All Hector could do was flinch. At that moment he remembered Pop Somethin’ from the gas station. Seeing the fear excited the killer, making him smile.

  The lawyer opened his mouth to scream and ended up with a 38 slug in his throat. Two more shots to the face ended his life. He didn’t even feel Pop Somethin’ take the belongings from his pockets.

  Chapter 18

  “I feel bad for sayin’ this, but maybe God did us a favor. You a good woman, and you been through so much bullshit wit’ this nigga. Them church people sing that song about holding they place and letting God fight they battles. They say God work in mysterious ways.”

  Shanice was sitting on the couch wrapped in C-Note’s arms, her head against his chest and sipping a glass of apple juice. They were at her house. Since Nitty died, he slept over twice. His presence comforted her. She wore only a t-shirt. All he had on was boxers.

  “It’s just hard knowing my daughter won’t ever see her father again. I know people die all the time, but you never really know how short life is until you lose someone close to you. Even though Nitty wasn’t shit, I still didn’t want him to die.”

  C-Note didn’t have anything good to say about Nitty, so he kept quiet.

  Shanice spun to face him. “And you know what’s crazy? When the detectives told me he was dead, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I was hurting real bad. And while the hurt was settling in my heart, I felt a sense of relief, too. Like a burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I understand what you meant about God working in mysterious ways, but am I wrong for feeling like this? Like I’m free?”

  “Nah, baby. You human. You been abused and taken advantage of, and now yo’ abuser is dead. I think you s’posed to feel how you feel. I think it’s normal, especially considerin’ how that nigga died.”

  “At first I thought Pop did it. The night before Nitty died, I told Pop he hit me. Soon as I could talk again, I called Pop and cussed his ass out and told him I hated him. Then, a couple days later, they tell me a woman killed him and he died while cheating on me. I felt stupid for doin’ my cousin like that. Pop never lied to me my whole life. I shoulda trusted him and believed him when he said he didn’t do it.”

  “Yeah, that nigga don’t like to play around. I think I only seen the nigga laugh a handful of times. You should call him. He love yo’ ass like you his sister. Yo’ words prolly cut him deep.”

  “I know. I’m kinda scared to call him. And embarrassed.”

  “Call him. Pop a good nigga.”

  “I will. But forget about my problems. What’s up with your case? Did your lawyers say anything?”

  “Yeah. State Attorney offered a deal, but it’s bullshit.”

  A glimmer of hope shown in Shanice’s eyes. “What kinda deal?”

  “Shit , I can prolly walk, scot-free.”

  Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh my God! That is good. Why are you just now telling me this? Why haven’t you taken the deal?”

  C-Note looked out the window. “It ain’t that easy, baby. They want me to snitch.”

  Shanice’s eyes lost some of their light. “Oh,” she mumbled. Silence filled the living room until she broke it. “I know you don’t want to be looked at as a snitch, but it will keep you out of jail. I mean –”

  C-Note chuckled. “That’s easy for you to say ‘cause you ain’t in the game. It’s rules to this shit. Snitchin’ can get me killed.”

  “What if we relocate? Move to New York or California? Somewhere away from Texas.”

  “I’m fuckin’ wit’ a cartel boss. You can’t outrun them. Or Pop. That nigga believe in the rules to the game as much as I do. He would prolly kill me if I snitch.”

  “But I love you, C-Note. You the best thing that ever happened to me. I need you. Now that Nitty is dead, we can be together. Like you said, God did us this favor. We should take advantage of it.”

  “C’mon, Shanice. I just told you it ain’t that easy.”

  “Do you love me? Love is an action where you make sacrifices for people you love. I would rather be on the run with you for the rest of my life than be apart from you for ten or twenty years. Please, C-Note. Think about us.”

  C-Note shook his head, unable to speak. He loved Shanice, but snitching on Gonzo was out of the question.

  Shanice read his body language. C-Note was sticking to his guns. She lowered her head and began playing with her glass of juice. Then she mumbled, “I�
�m pregnant.”

  Her words took a couple seconds to register in his mind. “What chu just say?”

  Shanice kept her head down. “I missed my period. I’m pregnant.”

  C-Note’s eyes grew wide and his throat got dry. “Baby, you can’t be playin’ about no shit like this. I know you love me, but don’t do this.”

  Shanice sat her drink on the table and got up from the couch. She went to her room and came back holding two pregnancy tests in her hand. C-Note looked at the tests. Blue plus signs showed on each one.

  “Is it mine?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure when it happened. I was still fucking Nitty, too.”

  “Fuck. I thought you was on birth control.”

  “I am. I took the shot. It’s supposed to last five years, but nothing is one hundred percent.”

  “Fuck,” C-Note cursed and became silent.

  Shanice started crying. “I-I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  Seeing her cry touched a soft spot inside C-Note. He got up from the couch and wrapped her in his arms. “It’s a’ight, baby. I gotchu. We good.”

  “No, it’s not,” she cried. “You still mad.”

  “I’m not mad. This was just unexpected. Shit, I wasn’t ready for this.”

  “Neither was I, but now I’m pregnant and I already got a daughter without a father. Are you gon’ leave me, too?”

  Her words entered his ears, traveled through his brain, down to his heart, and exploded in his chest. She was pregnant. The baby might be his. They were in love. She needed him. He didn’t want to watch his possible seed grow up through pictures and visits.

  The tears rolled down his face, mixing with hers. “I’m not gon’ leave you, baby. I gotchu.”

  C-Note’s words were instantly comforting. When she looked up and seen his tears, her heart melted. That single act made her love him that much more.

  Her lips found his. This kiss was different than any kiss they had ever shared. It was emotional, like their souls were being joined. When C-Note sat on the couch, Shanice took off her shirt and climbed on top. She wasn’t wearing any panties. When his dick came through the hole in his boxers, it slipped right into her pussy. The lovebirds kissed and moaned as they made soul-joining love.