Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

by Ashley Snell

  She shook her head. “No. He went to prison,” she admitted.

  “But he’s out now,” Britain replied quickly, letting her know that he was well-versed in all that was happening in the streets.

  “How do you know all of this?” she questioned.

  “I know everything that happens in my city.”

  “I don’t fuck with him like that anymore. After he got out…things weren’t the same. Too much time had passed and we were different. It didn’t fit anymore,” she explained.

  Britain nodded in understanding and stared at her for so long that she avoided his gaze. He seemed to see straight through her.

  “So dinner?” he asked again, charmingly persistent. Just the fact that he was showing so much interest flattered Six. She knew his reputation. Chicks all over the city were chasing him, and here he was pursuing her.

  Six knew that a man like Britain was used to having his way, so she was going to make him work for everything, including her company. Courting her wouldn’t be so easy for Britain.

  “I don’t know,” she replied doubtfully. He walked around his desk and spun her chair around then bent over so that his face was inches from hers. Everything about him smelled good; he was so close to her that Six could smell the peppermint on his breath.

  “I’m having a party at my beach house in Lake Fenton this weekend. I need a date. It’s a group thing, so you won’t feel uncomfortable, and you’ll be safe. It will give me a chance to catch up with you some more. See where your head at,” he said.

  She nodded and arose from his chair, but he made no effort to step back. They stood close to one another, neither of them uncomfortable with the lack of personal space. He swept a piece of hair out of her face.

  “You really are beautiful, ma,” he complimented. “You always have been.”

  She smiled. His words were so kind…. He was indeed a hood fella, but everything about his demeanor was so relaxed and composed. He had an edge of refinement that made him different than most dudes around the way. His twenty-five years on earth had done him well. He was attractive: A mix between businessman and thug, and with a twinge of conceit that made him irresistible. She grabbed a pen off her desk and wrote her number on the inside of his hand.

  “I guess I will see you Saturday,” she answered. She walked out of the office and down the stairs. Britain watched from the clear glass window in his office as she left the building, just as she knew he would. I’ve got him, she thought silently as she drove away.

  “How did it go?” Free asked as soon as Six walked in the door.

  “It went fine,” she answered. “He invited me to his beach house this weekend.”

  Big Lou nodded and asked, “He’s picking you up?”

  “Probably so…but he can’t scoop me from here,” she said.

  “You’re going to have to move in with your pops for a few months… just tell him me and you are fighting. Don’t let him know what’s going on, though. You set that up and have Britain pick you up from there. Make him trust you, Six, but don’t underestimate him. If you ever feel threatened you get out.”

  She nodded her head. She didn’t want to tell Free that she and Britain knew each other back in the day. She figured it would only complicate the situation. “I will,” she assured as she went into her bedroom to pack her bags. Her foot was in the door, now all she had to do was get the money and get out.

  Chapter Seven

  Camera flashes and an onslaught of questions bombarded Britain as he walked out of the courtroom alongside his lawyers. Britain wore a neat mocha suit with gold cuff links to accessorize. His goons followed him closely as they trailed behind him, all wearing black Armani suits and designer shades. They were all scattered throughout the courtroom in support of their organization’s leader. Britain had a superstar’s arrogance and shook hands with his team of lawyers as he made his way toward the court’s exit. He charismatically gave the reporters his boyish grin as he parted the massive crowd like Moses did the Red Sea.

  The prosecutors were forced to postpone the trial because of the murder of their key witness. Without him they had no case. In Britain’s mind, he knew that he was off the hook, but the murder of the federal agents comprised an entirely new dilemma.

  His lead lawyer was a middle-aged Jewish man who had the charm of Johnnie Cochran. He pushed the microphones out of his client’s face as he escorted him to his limo so that he could escape the pestering media. There were a line of limos in front of the courthouse that escorted his crew to and from the trial. His swagger was presidential.

  Britain hid his drug money behind a string of Laundromats and seemed to be untouchable at that point. The DA hated it because of the irony behind it all. Britain owned the Laundromats to “wash” his dirty money. The district attorney shook his head in disgust as he watched the charade. It was as if Britain was thumbing his nose at the law and making a mockery of the Detroit Police Department. Britain gave one reporter a final wink before he approached his personal limo that was in front of the fleet.

  “Okay, call me tomorrow. Congrats, Brick! We got this one in the bag,” the lawyer whispered in his ear as he opened the limo door and watched as Britain got in.

  “No doubt,” Britain said as he sat in the vehicle and the lawyer closed his door shut. He took a deep breath as he rolled up his tinted window and leaned his head back in the headrest. “Turn that up,” Britain instructed the driver as he heard the distant sound of legendary jazz musician Miles Davis on his radio. Feeling his phone vibrate on his hip, he signaled his limo driver to pull off as he pulled his phone off his belt-buckle clip. He smiled, seeing that it was Six texting him. It read:

  I JUST SAW YOU ON THE NEWS. IT’S CRAZY HOW THE MOST WANTED MAN IN THE CITY OF DETROIT IS SO FASCINATED WITH ME. I MUST BE A LUCKY GIRL. LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING YOU AGAIN…. SIX

  Britain smiled as he put his phone back on his clip. He unbuckled his cuff links, loosened his tie, and popped a bottle of champagne that was waiting for him on ice in the back of the limo. “Feels good to be the boss,” he whispered just before he took a gulp of the expensive drink. His limo pulled off and the fleet of limos followed.

  Six opened her trunk and grabbed her luggage from the rear. “Daddy!” she yelled, needing his help. Jones immediately emerged from the house with a joint hanging from his lip and a straw hat on. “Hold on, baby. I got you,” he said as he hurried, while still walking smoothly. Jones grabbed the big luggage from Six and pulled it out of the trunk for her.

  “Thanks, Daddy,” she said as she grabbed her smaller Gucci bags from the backseat.

  “No problem,” Jones said as he carried the luggage in the house.

  “Thanks for letting me stay here with you for a while,” Six said as she followed her father into his house.

  “No problem, baby. It will feel like old times when you used to love ya’ old man,” Jones said smiling, slightly out of breath, and set the luggage down on the floor. Then he sat down on the couch and lit his joint. Six put her bags down and sat next to him.

  “Daddy, you know I love you,” she said, smiling back. Jones took a deep pull and handed her the joint. Six took the joint in between her index and pointing fingers and placed it to her lips. She inhaled deeply and knew that she was smoking nothing but the best. Jones always had the grade-A, top-shelf smoke.

  “What’s going on with you and Free?” he asked, knowing something was up because Six had asked him if could she stay with him for a while.

  “Nothing that I can’t handle, Daddy,” she said as she passed the weed back to him. “We have just been arguing so damn much and need some space.”

  “Well, you guys are going to get it together. Free is a good nigga. Little rough around the edges, but I can tell he really loves you,” Jones said as he pointed his finger at Six knowingly. “If you’re anything like your mama, you got a mouth on you. You probably be nagging him to death.”

  “Yeah, yeah…don’t nobody be bothering that boy and I don’t
nag. We are going to be good, though. Just need some space,” Six responded, not wanting to let her father know about the plan to rob Britain, knowing he would disapprove. She felt bad for lying to her father, even if it was small. She had never had to lie to him, and their relationship was built on trust. However, Six knew it was best for Jones not to know about the plan. She knew how close Brick’s father and Jones were back in the day and she also knew there, was deep loyalty between the two families and she was breaking that. Fuck it! I got to hold my man down no matter what, she thought. Free had asked her to do it, and she was going to come through for him no matter what.

  Jones nodded while remaining secretly suspicious. He knew how close Six and Free were, and it didn’t add up to him. A father’s intuition let him know that something was going on. He smiled and took a deep drag of his doobie, letting the smoke rest in his lungs before he blew it back out in circles. Nevertheless, he was glad to have Six around, so he wasn’t complaining. “Glad to have to you home, baby girl,” he said giving her his famous smile.

  Chapter Eight

  Six sat on the porch with her father and he passed her the joint he was blazing. She hit it, held the smoke in her lungs, and passed it back to him. She loved her daddy. He had always been there for her. When her mother moved to New York it broke Six’s heart, because she couldn’t see her father every day. When she was younger, she always looked forward to visiting him each summer.

  He had done everything to provide her with the life of a princess. He also kept it real and schooled Six about the streets. He never wanted a man to be able to game his baby girl, so he taught her to be savvy in the ways of the world and to always stay two steps ahead of everyone else. They had always been closer than close because he treated her with respect and vice versa. When he first caught her smoking weed, he didn’t get mad, he taught her how to roll her own blunt so that someone in the streets couldn’t slip her anything. When she tasted her first sip of liquor, it was he who gave it to her. He got her so fucked up that she never drank herself to the point of intoxication again. When he found out she was having sex, however, he beat her ass until no tomorrow…then sat down and told her not to spread her legs for just any man. He taught her self-respect and told her to make a man earn everything she gave him, including her heart. It was for these reasons that she loved her father dearly. It was not the conventional father-daughter relationship, but it was a bond that no one could break.

  “You sure Free don’t mind you going out with Britain?” Jones asked, protecting the interests of Free.

  Six laughed at her overprotective father and replied, “Daddy, Free knows Britain and I are just friends. Don’t worry about it. Besides, I thought you liked Britain.”

  Jones nodded as he blew smoke into the air. “I do like the li’l mu’fucka. I just know if he’s anything like his father then the nigga ain’t easy on no bitch. His old man used to love ’em and leave ’em,” he said.

  Six shook her head in amazement at her father. “Daddy, you a trip. You was right there with his father, probably gaming up all the chicks back in the day,” she accused playfully.

  “You damn right,” Jones replied proudly as he inhaled the weed smoke like a pro.

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of music coming down the street. Britain pulled in front of the house with a Silver Range Rover and was pulling a medium-sized luxury boat on a trailer behind him. Six smiled and approached him as he got out of the car.

  The khaki Ralph Lauren cargo shorts and white polo he wore impressed her, and she wrapped her arms around him as he embraced her for a hug. He picked her up from the ground a little when he hugged her.

  “You look nice,” he said in her ear, causing her to blush. There was something about his compliments that made her feel like a schoolgirl. She didn’t know if it was his deep baritone or the way he whispered it as if only her ears were worthy of hearing the truth.

  “What’s good, Jones?” he greeted as he slapped hands with her father.

  “You, son…you,” Jones said as he snuffed out the joint and grabbed Six’s bag. He stepped off the porch and handed her things to Britain. “You take care of her.”

  “No doubt, Jones. Don’t worry. I’m not another nigga. I know how you get down, and you know how I get down, be cause you taught me. She’s in safe hands,” Britain assured.

  “Bye, Daddy,” Six said as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

  “Hmm,” he grunted. Just his demeanor let her know that he didn’t like the fact that she was going out with Britain. He was on Team Free, and he didn’t know exactly what was going on yet, but he knew that something wasn’t quite right. Although Free’s paper wasn’t right, Jones loved Free’s heart. He knew that Free was a real nigga, and that’s all a father could ask of the man that wifed his daughter.

  Britain put his hand on the small of her back and opened her car door, then jogged around to the driver’s side and pulled off, hitting his horn twice to say good-bye to Jones.

  “I’m sorry. You know how he is,” Six stated.

  “Yeah, I know,” Britain replied with a smile. He reached over to grab her hand and she let him. She noticed that he was the type of dude who didn’t mind showing his interest, so she made sure to reciprocate his actions. I don’t want him to think I’m not interested, she thought. He put in a mix tape, and they rode in comfortable silence until they arrived at their destination.

  “You ready to smile for the cameras, ma?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?” she replied. “What camer as?”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, Britain turned onto the road where his beach house was located. News vans and camera crews crowded the streets, and reporters rushed his way as he maneuvered into the driveway.

  “What are they here for?” she asked.

  “This case is keeping my face in the news,” he informed her. “Don’t answer any questions. I’m going to come around to your side of the car and get you.”

  “This is crazy,” she said as she looked around at the mayhem outside.

  Britain exited his vehicle and was swarmed with questions as he went to open Six’s door. He pulled her gently from the car and she tucked her head into his chest as he made his way through the media.

  “Britain, who is the young lady?”

  “Does she know you’re a murderer?”

  “Did you have anything to do with the killings of the key witness and the federal officers?”

  The questions came one after another until they were safely inside of his lakeside house.

  “How do you live like that?” she asked.

  “Once they find something new to talk about, the press will die down. I’ve been under a microscope twenty-four hours a day since my trial began. If it isn’t the police, it is the media. I don’t call that living, but today, you blessed me with your presence…that makes today better than yesterday. I just hope you’ll give me a chance so that you will be here to help me make tomorrow better than today,” he said.

  Six couldn’t help the grin that spread on her face as she shook her head as if she didn’t believe him. She pointed her finger at him and frowned. “Don’t be gaming me, Britain. Nigga, I know bullshit when I hear it.”

  “Nah, that’s real, Six,” he stated as he kissed the back of her hand. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

  Britain escorted Six to the backyard and made his rounds with her on his arm. Everyone showed her love just off the strength that she was his guest of honor. They all knew that he was feeling her because usually their hood affairs were for insiders only. The fact that he had even asked her to come was a big deal.

  Tables were set up in the shape of a rectangle, and Britain took his seat at the head and positioned her by his side. They all stood to bless the food, and then they ate like royalty. Waiters in white coats came and tended to Six’s every need.

  “Do you do everything so extravagant?” she asked.

  “It’s the only wa
y to do it, ma. You only live life once. I can’t take my paper with me when I die,” he said. “Enjoy yourself. Whatever you need, just let me know, and I’ll make it happen for you.”

  One of his henchmen stood and raised his glass, which signaled everyone else to follow suit.

  “I’m toasting this one out to B. Bricks,” the dude said, referring to Britain by his nickname. “They tried to knock my man off his throne, but it didn’t work. A case like that is nothing to a giant. We’re glad you’re home, fam. Fuck the feds!” the man said as he raised his glass.

  “Fuck the feds!” everyone yelled and clapped. Britain raised his glass graciously and nodded in salute to his loyal team of workers. They had all come up in the street together, and Six could feel the love and loyalty among the group. They were like a family, and she was so caught up in the moment that she leaned over and whispered, “You really are a king.”

  He grabbed her chin and kissed her lips. Her body tensed. She hadn’t kissed another man besides Free in so long that it didn’t even feel right. Extreme guilt plagued her. She felt like a cheat, even though it was Free himself who had urged her to do this. She knew that it was important for her to play the role, so she pushed Free out of her mind and focused on the gentleman in front of her. She kissed Britain back, their tongues doing a delicate dance. He grabbed her neck gently. His touch was so affectionate that she felt like she was really his girl…if only for this moment.

  “Today you’re the queen of the streets,” he replied as he pulled away. She beamed and played her position the rest of the day. It wasn’t hard to do… Britain made it simple to be his lady. He catered to her all day. Even though there were a hundred people at the celebration, he only had time for her. They popped bottles of champagne on the sandy beach until the wee hours of the morning. By three A.M. the party had died down. The only person who remained was Britain’s right-hand man.