by Ashley Snell
Six walked over to the wall mirror and gasped when she saw the diamond resting against her neck. She touched it as if it couldn’t be real. She had never seen anything so beautiful. “How much is it?” she asked.
“Twenty-seven thousand dollars,” the woman answered.
Six shook her head. “I can’t choose this. That’s way too much,” she said.
“Mr. Adams instructed me to bring only the best. I think he’ll be pleased with your selection. Just between you and me…your limit was seventy-five thousand dollars,” she said, whispering the last part.
Six fingered the necklace and took a deep breath, a bit over whelmed by Britain’s bottomless wallet. “Okay, I’ll take it,” she said, smiling.
“Wonderful selection. It was nice meeting you, Six. I’m Mr. Adams’s personal jeweler. I’ll probably be seeing you again,” she said as she extended her hand.
Six shook it and replied, “Nice meeting you too.”
Dressing quickly, Six put on a cocoa-colored, floor-length maxi dress and sandals while pulling her hair off her face in a ponytail. She wanted to be as relaxed as possible because she knew that she was in for a day of pampering…courtesy of Britain. He was flattering her to no end, pulling out all stops in order to win her favor. She knew that he had probably charmed many women in his day, but she couldn’t help but feel special. He showered her with attention. Even though they had not seen each other since they were very young, somehow he always knew the right things to say and do to get her loose. Every time she shut her emotions down and blocked him out, he did something new to win her over. She was beginning to think he had done this before with many women, because he was too good at playing the gentleman role.
Just as she applied the last of her M•A•C cosmetics the doorbell rang again, announcing the arrival of her limo. At that exact moment, Free called her phone. She sighed as she stared at his name as it flashed across the screen of her cell. She loved Free, but his constant presence made it harder for her to get the job done. He’s gonna have to give me a little space, she thought. That’s not asking too much.
Six picked up her purse and put on her Christian Dior shades and walked out the door, hitting the ignore button to stop the call. She sent Free to voice mail. She didn’t want to hear his voice right now. He would only remind her that her relationship with Britain wasn’t real, and at that moment, she could not bear to hear it, even if it was the truth.
Chapter Eleven
Six stared out the window of the limo as she was escorted to the east side of the city.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I was instructed not to answer any questions. I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” the driver responded.
Six sat back in her seat and rolled up the window to separate herself from the driver. She had no clue what Britain had up his sleeve, but there was not a doubt in her mind that she would enjoy it. He had given her a beautiful day, allowing her to dine, shop, and experience the luxuries of being a dopeman’s wife. She felt rejuvenated. From her pedicured French-tip toes to her freshly dyed and layered hair, she shined.
She took a deep breath as the limo pulled into the luxury community of Grosse Pointe Woods. Looking around at all of the million-dollar houses, her mouth opened in shock. I know he don’t own nothing out here, she thought. She knew that Britain was major, but to have a house in Gross Pointe Woods, he had to moving weight like Escobar. She had really been sleeping on Britain’s status.
She quickly pulled out her foundation compact and checked to make sure her makeup was on point. Everything was perfect. She looked like a true diva in her brand-new Marciano one-shoulder cocktail dress, but despite the physical transformation her insecurities surfaced as butterflies danced in her stomach while she was being transported to destination unknown. Finally, they pulled into a long driveway and onto the grounds of one of the homes. Six’s wide eyes took everything in. From the opulent garden, to the luxurious fountain, and the well-maintained yards…everything around her spelled M-O-N-E-Y. It was the most amazing house she had ever laid eyes on.
The minimansion was magnificent and it took her breath away, making her feel as if she didn’t belong. She was just a girl from the ghetto…born on the north side of Detroit and raised in New York City. How she had even gotten to be in someone’s company who could afford something so great was beyond her.
She could see Britain standing at the top of his steps waiting for her to exit the limo. He was clean in gray Ferragamo slacks and a black and gray sweater. She smiled because he was far from the square he dressed like. He was so gangster and powerful, just thinking about his reign over the streets made her wet. Her palms began to sweat. The closer the car got to Britain, the more nervous she became.
It seemed like a lifetime passed by before the car finally reached him. White rose petals were situated on both sides of the entryway, making an aisle that led directly to Britain. She reached to open the door, but halted when she heard her phone ring.
“Fuck!” she whispered to herself when she realized that it was Free trying to reach her. She held the phone tightly in her hand and began to answer it when Britain knocked on the limo window. She hit the ignore button and turned off her phone, then stuck it in her handbag. I’ll call him later, she thought.
She unlocked the door for Britain. He opened it, and then extended his hand to help her out. “You look beautiful, ma,” he stated with a grin.
“What are you smiling for?” she asked. “I look stupid in this…it’s too fancy, right?” She nervously rubbed her hands on her dress as she clutched her bag tightly.
“Nah, you look perfect. Got to retire them skinny jeans…too many niggas can see what’s mine when you rock ’em,” he stated only half jokingly.
“What’s yours, huh?” she rebutted.
He nodded conceitedly and grabbed her hand to take her into his home. As soon as she stepped foot inside, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“You live here?” she asked, knowing that she sounded like a naïve girl who had never been anywhere or had seen anything, but the truth was Britain had her on some new shit. Even Free hadn’t exposed her to this quality of life. Britain was living the high life…. Niggas rapped about his reality in their songs and here it was within her arm’s reach.
He chuckled and nodded as he swept his hands around. “Yeah, this is my home.”
“It’s nice,” she said as she looked around. “You live here by yourself?” she asked.
He nodded. “Until I can find someone to share it with, yes…it’s just me.”
“Your shit is so plush,” she stated in amazement. “You want to give me a tour?” she asked.
Britain held up his finger and left the room only to reenter moments later with a bottle of Dom Pérignon in his hand. He grabbed two champagne flutes that were on the table and poured them each a drink. “Now I can show you around,” he stated as he began to walk up the glass staircase.
Six’s stilettos clicked on the stairs and when she looked down, she noticed that each stair had a different exotic fish swimming behind the glass. She smiled. “This is so unreal,” she whispered, highly pleased with her surroundings.
He took her from room to room, and she loved every minute of it. She made him show her his entire house, including his theater room and inside basketball court. It took them an hour to view everything, and when he was done she shook her head at a loss for words.
“I take it you like it?” he asked.
“Boy, are you kidding? I love it!” she exclaimed as she finished her second glass of champagne. She was so enthralled with it all that she couldn’t sit still. She walked along his entryway and looked at the pictures on the wall. One in particular stopped her dead in her tracks. She stared at a picture of herself when she was little. She was standing in between Britain and his father; they were all holding a huge fish together. Her hand covered her mouth in surprise as she remembered that day. It had been so long ago that she had erased it from her
memory bank. She turned back to Britain.
“My father took this picture of us, didn’t he?” she asked.
He pointed his pinkie toward the picture while holding his champagne glass and replied, “Yeah…you remember that?” he asked.
She nodded and turned back to the picture. She looked so young…so innocent. It was a shame what the world had turned her into. She was a con artist. A manipulative and un-trustworthy woman. She barely even recognized the youthful face smiling at her from behind the frame.
“That’s how I recognized you when I saw you at your father’s crib. I’ve been looking at your face every day for the past fifteen years. It’s the only picture that I have of my pops, so I cherish it. As soon as I saw you again, I knew who you were,” Britain explained. “I could never forget your face.”
She teared up as she listened to his story. “How did he die?”
He walked up behind her and stood so close that she could feel the imprint of his manhood brush her behind through the thin fabric of her dress.
“He was killed. A man he robbed came back and shot him right in front of me,” Britain stated.
She turned to face him. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I remember your father. He was a good man.”
Britain shook his head in objection. “Nah, he was a good father and a good friend to Jones. My pops was a goon…. He played the game and lost. His one mistake was letting the nigga that he robbed live. When you’re doing dirt, you don’t leave loose ends. He robbed a man and let him live…that one decision cost him his life.”
As Britain spoke, Six thought about what she was doing. Essentially, she was doing the same thing. This entire game with Britain was nothing more than a huge setup to rob him.
Will he come for me after he finds out what I did? Is he going to kill me like that man did his father? she thought.
“What happened to the man who killed your father?” she asked.
“I killed his wife and kids,” he stated coldly while staring at the picture of his father as if in a trance. He had never told anyone that he had committed those murders, but he felt at ease with Six.
Six stepped back from him as she observed the calculating look in his eyes. The cat had her tongue, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She had underestimated Britain. She was quickly realizing that she had no idea what he was capable of.
“He took something from me, and I took something from him. An eye for an eye,” Britain stated. He glanced down at her and noticed that she was trembling. He put his hand on her neck and massaged it as he traced her jawline with one finger. “I told you not to fear me, ma. I would never hurt you. I don’t let too many know where I rest my head, but I know that I can trust you. You’ve already passed my test.”
Six didn’t respond so he continued. “I knew that you used to fuck with a stickup nigga. Free used to put in work back in the day so I couldn’t be caught slipping. When we were up north at my beach house, I purposefully put some information out about one of my pickups. I knew that you could hear me, so I wanted to see what you would do with that info. I went to the spot and waited for the nigga Free to show up. If he came, I would have known that you sent him…. But he didn’t come, so now I know that you don’t have loose lips.”
“I told you I don’t deal with Free like that anymore,” she stated.
“I had to be sure. You don’t get where I am by making mistakes…. Everyone around me has a test to pass before I let them in. You passed it, and you’re in,” he replied.
“Good to know,” she smiled as she raised her glass, and he poured more champagne inside.
She was grateful for the drink and downed it in one huge gulp. She needed it to calm her nerves.
“You want something a little bit stronger?” Britain asked with a laugh.
“Actually I do…forget all this champagne. Pull out the liquor,” Six stated. “I’ma show you how I used to do it in Brooklyn.”
“Nah, ma, I’ma show you how I do it everywhere,” Britain replied arrogantly as he walked to the bar that decorated the corner of the room and plucked a bottle of Patrón from his shelf. “You off this with me?”
Six nodded, her eyes low and mischievous from the glasses of champagne she had consumed. She took a seat at one of the stools.
He pulled out two shot glasses and filled them both to the rim.
“You got salt and lime?” she asked.
He nodded toward the kitchen and then admired the sway of her wide hips as she went to retrieve the items.
When she returned, he held up the glass for her. “You ready?” he asked.
“Nigga, you ready?” she countered playfully. She placed the salt on her hand and licked it off seductively. Then she chased it with the liquor and then the lime. As the top-shelf tequila went down her throat, burning her vocals on the way down she cringed and said “Aghh!” then stuck out her tongue afterward. “Your turn,” she demanded as she put more salt on her hand and held it out for Britain to lick. “Come on, Britain,” she urged. “Time to turn the good-guy act off…. Introduce me to Brick. I want to see what the streets see.”
Britain took her hand and licked the salt off, slowly tonguing between all of her fingers, making Six’s breathing become heavy, lustful. His tongue was so juicy and thick that it made Six cream in her panties. She pulled her hand away and shook it as if he had set it ablaze, when in actuality, he had set her clitoris on fire.
Britain laughed arrogantly and hit the shot while keeping his eyes on Six. She placed the lime in his mouth, and he bit it until the juice flowed down her wrist. Then he took her hand in his and kissed the back of her wrist. The feeling of his lips on her skin made her eyes close against her will.
“Britain,” she whispered.
“What up, ma?” he responded as he bit his bottom lip and leaned across the bar so that they were face-to-face.
“There’s so much you don’t know about me,” she stated as tears came to her eyes.
“I know all that I need to know, Six,” Britain responded. He kissed her lips, and she turned her head to the side to kiss him back. At that instant she blocked the rest of the world out. She didn’t want to think about the moment, because she knew if she contemplated her actions she would stop herself. She just wanted to let it happen. Britain made her feel special…loved…unique. He’s nothing like Free, she thought as her tongue tasted the tequila that Britain had consumed.
“Wait,” she said as she pulled back.
Britain wiped his mouth with his fingers and nodded.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just—my head is all over the place when it comes to you. I don’t think I’m ready.”
“It’s okay, Six. I respect you. I’ll wait as long as you need me to,” Britain stated as he raised the bottle of Patrón to his lips and hit a shot straight from the bottle.
Six chuckled as she noticed how hot and bothered she had made Britain. She reached for the bottle because he had her the same way. “I need some of that too,” she stated with laughter in her voice. She took it to the head and continued to laugh as they passed the bottle back and forth.
“You’re gonna kill me, ma,” he stated. “Got my blood pressure up and shit,” he joked as they sat at the bar getting drunk together.
“Trust me…it’s worth the wait,” she responded seductively while raising her eyebrows.
“Quit playing with me,” he said as he chased her around the bar.
“It’s so good… I promise you,” she laughed while being chased around the great room. It reminded her of when they were kids. She stopped running so that she could take another hit of the bottle that was still in her hand. Britain picked her up and spun her around, then dropped her on the cushiony French sofa.
“I’ma fuck you up,” he stated playfully as they both laughed together.
It was then that Six realized that she had missed their friendship. She remembered the innocent trust that they used to have in one another all of those years ago. It
was childish and insignificant at the time, but it had been the purest friendship that Six had ever had. It was before she knew anything about hitting licks or coping with life’s everyday grind. She was sure that in another lifetime Britain would be her man. A part of her was sad that true love could never be in the cards for them. He’s so perfect, she thought. She hadn’t so much fun since she was a child. Free spoiled her and provided for her, but he expected her to be his girl. She was Free’s Bonnie, but Britain treated her like his Coretta. He placed her on a pedestal and treated her like a lady. He left the street persona in the streets and with her he was just himself. Next lifetime, she thought.
She lay on her back, her hair in her face, and he was on his knees beside her as they passed the bottle back and forth.
“I missed this, ma—this is what my life has been missing. First and foremost, you’re my friend,” Britain stated.
Six smiled at his words because she knew exactly what he meant. “I haven’t had a good friend in a long time either. I know I didn’t remember you at first, but I honestly don’t know how I could have ever forgotten. You’re special to me, Britain,” she said as she touched his face. “If I have ever done or ever do anything to hurt you, know that it’s not in my heart.”
Britain shook his head and took the Patrón from her hand. “You’re drunk, ma…getting all sensitive on me,” he said with a smile.
She smiled back. “Whatever, boy—I can drink you under the table…. You don’t know whose daughter I am?”
Britain looked at the remaining liquor in the bottle. It was almost gone…and Six had consumed a good amount of it. “I know whose daughter you are, killa,” he teased. He stood to his feet. “I’m going to grab you something eat out of the kitchen. You drank a lot…. You need something in your stomach.”
Six threw up a peace sign and rested her eyes, closing them momentarily until Britain came back with her food.