Dynamo nodded. "Guess this my new crib for the time being."
Candace prevented KT from turning the doorknob. She trapped him against the door then placed his hands on her buttock. Suckling his chin, she purred. "Don't you think I deserve some sort of thank you?"
KT acknowledged his steel-faced friend. "You need to be telling him that."
Candace approached Dynamo. Collapsing his jeans & boxers, she kneeled in homage to his fast-maturing manhood. Eagerly taking him into her mouth, Candance rubbed his saliva slick manhood across her cheeks. She leered KT and said. "Sure you don't wanna help Dy slay this dragon pussy?"
KT, watching the sexually uninhibited beauty fling his fellatio awash friend into the euphoric abyss, took leave confident...
Women have been the great unpaid laborer of the world
-Elizabeth Cody Stanton 1818-1902
CHAPTER 12
He who despairs over an event is a coward,
but he who holds hope for the human condition is a fool
-Albert Camus 1913-1960
Nations Bank Building
Downtown Norfolk
11:45 am the following morning
The smell of new leather filled the office. A large oak desk and file cabinet occupied the right wall. Angel pondered in which fashion she would decorate her new office. Always arriving ten minutes early, staying ten minutes late, her persistence finally bore fruit. At precisely 10 am this morning, she learned her boss, the Assistant Manager for Consumer Information for this Nations Bank branch, was reassigned to the Houston, Texas branch. She was offered the promotion a mere two and a half years into her employment. Angel could finally see her career beginning to take form. Her trance was snapped by her chiming office phone. Pressing speaker, she glowed excitedly. "Angel Davis, Assistant Manager for Consumer Information, how may I help you?"
“That's right new boss-lady, take it all in."
"What is it, Trina?"
“A handsome young man has a package for you. Should I send him in?"
"No, I’ll be right out."
Through her office doorway, Angel approached her handpicked secretary's workstation. The eager-eyed courier gave her a long, slim box. "I have a delivery for an Angel Davis."
Trina interjected. "Who from?"
“No name of the sender."
Angel complied with her secretary's request to open the package in her presence. She removed the lid. Her watery eyes marveled at the single, long stem white rose—her favorite flower. Angel, inhaling the exotic fragrance fell into an emotional silence while her secretary read the card aloud.
“Just making sure you have an idea of just how much I desire you... so Beautiful, have yo pretty self at the picnic area by 12:30... or else... Unknown." Trina, giving her the card, said. "This has to be Mr. Wonderful, you always yapping about."
“Don't you have work to do?" Angel playfully jeered.
Trina placed her Dell laptop computer on her desk. "Sure do. Since I'm on break, I figure I'll finish watching this new web film me and the husband stumbled on."
“You sure you should be doing that here?"
“I'm on break. This my personal laptop, and my new pretty, big-hearted boss was never here."
Angel glowed at merely being referred to as boss. "I wanna see this web film."
"Boss-lady, you in a committed relationship."
“Gurl, move out the way." Angel ordered her. The laptop turned towards her, the monitor illuminated a raunchy web film. She fell into a deathly silence.
∗
12:29 pm
The early afternoon was sun beautified. Along the Nations Bank Building rear, the Norfolk Harbor waters bubbled in the near distance. KT was adorning an electric blue Neiman Marcus slacks, butterscotch silk shirt, and electric blue Stacy Adams loafers. He gazed upon the world through lightly tinted Alain Mikli shades. He stood alongside a decorated picnic table. His smile as large as downtown Norfolk's Waterside itself, he ogled the majestic emerging from the bank building rear door.
Angel side-stepped his embrace and stared at the cloth-draped picnic table. She marveled at a small pan of chicken cacciatore, vegetable soup, a basket of blueberry muffins, and two fruit juice-filled wine glasses. Angel pulled KT close and puckered her lips. Primed to indulge in a heartfelt kiss, she slapped him.
The Alain Mikli shades flew from his face. KT, holding his singed cheek, rived agonizingly. "What the hell was that for?"
“All this for YOUR little 'ol beautiful? How thoughtful.” Angel took hold of the white sheet. “But I need this FUCKING TABLE!"
KT could only watch as she snatched the tablecloth, spilling everything to the ground. Incensed, he grabbed her by the shoulders. "What's wrong with you?"
“How could you! You promised you'll never hurt me! KT, you ain't shit!"
“Angel, what in the hell are you talking about? Look at this shit... yo ass better__.”
“I better what!" Her fists clenched, Angel slugged him twice before being snatched into his arms. Clawing his gunshot injured bicep, she screamed. ‘Let me go!"
"You making a fucking scene. Remember where you are, and the promotion yo ass just got."
Angel was placed back to the ground. Her dress straightened, and composure regained, she wiped her tears. Angel placed her secretary's laptop on the ruined picnic table. She raised the monitor, pressed play then stepped aside. "I hope this was worth losing me."
KT watched amateur footage of the sexual reeducation session; he, Honey, and Yolanda exacted upon a handcuffed & blindfolded Maxine. He froze with utter bewilderment. Affliction. Regret. Indecisiveness. "Angel, you got it wrong. I swear this shit gotta be wrong."
“Is that you or not? Please make me believe that's not Khalid Nikita." She burst into a sob. "I gave you my heart... my body. You were my everything. After all the shit I've been through, you promised." Oblivious to his desperation for her to just listen, she glared at him. "I, I should've laid you down when I had the chance."
“Should've laid me down," KT repeated. His psyche bombarded with images of an Angel holding him at gunpoint, he snatched her by the throat. "BITCH, don't ever say some shit like that again, you hear me!" He let her go, then plop down on the picnic table seat. “This shit fucked up. I never thought....”
Angel cried. "You cheated on me! You swore you wouldn't, but you did... with three bitches!"
KT, eyeing her angrily, was awash by a sudden realization. "I can prove yo ass got it wrong."
She punched him in his mouth. Soothe by his near collapse, complementing the blood trickling his split lip, she blasted. "Unless you can prove that's not you on that fucking screen, you can't prove shit!"
KT snatched Angel by her arm. He forced her to sit in front of the laptop computer and said. "Tell me what's in the lower right-hand corner."
She refused to look.
Onlookers were slowly taking notice. KT retrieved his discarded shades. "You spazed out for nothing... Remember our trip to Ocean City. When we got back, what yo ass tell me?"
“What does that have to do with anything?"
“Do you remember that muthafucking day or not?"
"Don't curse at me!"
“Answer the MUTHAFUCKING question. How about this then... do you remember the day you should've laid me down? The exact day. Compare that to when we came back from Ocean City."
“I remember it was__
“You better not say it!" KT angrily interrupted her. "Since you remember the day, tell me what we were. I went all out to make you mine, but yo ass kept turning me away. Now you gotta fucking nerve to be accusing me..." Impervious to her coursing tears, he resisted the urge to snap her neck and simply walked away.
∗
Trant Avenue
Ingleside, Norfolk
32 minutes later
Yolanda held her front door open. She studied the ragged, dishearten man standing before her. "Guess the romantic surprise picnic didn't go as planned.”
“You don't say." KT remo
ved his Stacy Adams loafers removed then entered her home. "Slim Goodie, from the start, it was all fucked up.”
“I hope you at least got to enjoy the meal I had Maxine and Honey slave over."
"Angel slung it off the table."
“YOU LET THAT BITCH FUCK UP MY__.”
KT snatched her by her arm. “Don't ever call my shorty a bitch."
Yolanda snatched away. She stood so close he could see inside of her flared nostrils. "Let that be the last time you put yo hands on me... Understood?”
The moment was interrupted by an emerging brunet. Samantha made her way through the living room. "I'll give you guys some space."
The front door closed on the brief interruption, Yolanda apologized. "KT, my bad for calling your girl a bitch." Her arms around his neck, KT’s went around her waist. They held each other.
Over a blueberry Kush cannabis-filled cigarillo & glasses of Arbor Mist, Yolanda mainly listened. At the same time, KT relayed the level of devastation caused by their videoed sexual reeducation session.
Once again, Yolanda apologized. "Sweetie, that's on me. I thought you knew I post all my sessions online."
KT dropped his head. “Angel said some things I can't get past."
"You can always get past words. All you have to do is forgive. The rest will take care of itself." Yolanda lectured him. Her fingernails coursing along the scratches along KT’s neck and exposed shoulder. She helped him out of his ruined silk shirt. She sat across his lap and led his mouth upon hers. She kissed until his tongue pirouetted alongside hers. "Want me to make it up to you?"
KT playfully pushed her off him. He appreciated the beauty standing before him. Her cherry boy shorts accentuated her long, golden brown legs.
Yolanda collapsed her boy shorts. Leading his palm across her lightly trimmed, golden brown womanhood, she relishes his leering the procured moisture. "See how wet you always make me."
KT shook his head. "I come here with relationship problems, and you taking it there."
She placed his hands on her hips. Unbuckling his belt, once KT collapsed his slacks & silk boxers, she straddled his cement hard manhood cowgirl style. Yolanda was taken by his shaft, stretching her snug utopia. She flung her arms around his neck and purred. "I'm always here for you."
KT snickered. “Then why you taking advantage of me?”
Yolanda laid down along the sofa. Pulling him between her thighs, she stalled his re-entry and replied. “Why you think we doing this?"
“If I cheat on Angel, I'll forgive for that bullshit she said."
Yolanda tensed from him, squeezing back inside her. Her moist loins accepted his masculinity, his strength, his accumulating rage. She allowed him to place her legs on his shoulders. Yolanda’s armpits held; she was trapped within a close-quarter full-mounted buck. She was held hostage by a stroke so long and fierce that KT withdrew to slam further home. Yolanda succumbs to his deeply embedded manhood, flooding her with his rage-heated semen.
She was helped into the seated position. She removed sweat from KT’s brow and said. "Sorry for the trouble I caused. I know top-shelf yoni doesn't make up for what happened, but it helps."
“You always help.” KT got himself somewhat together. "Slim Goodie, what were you able to find out about the shooting?"
“Not much... It seems whoever tried to ice you and Dynamo made sure the word didn't get out. I did talk to Ski-Beau and Meatball."
“I'm listening."
“Well, you know Meatball didn't say much. Ski-Beau was really concerned. He even promised IGC was ready to ride whenever yawl found out who did it."
KT asked her. "You think he was genuine?"
“Do you?" Yolanda retrieved her boy shorts. "I've been thinking of a way to possibly sniff out the shooters by process of elimination. You know about the duplex home I rent out in the back of the neighborhood?"
“What about it?"
“Currently, no tenets. I say, maybe it’s time for me to have an open house. But first, I need something from you and Dynamo... and no, isn’t on the table.”
Friends are God's apology for relations
-Hugh Kingsmill 1889-1949
CHAPTER 13
The misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come
-James Russell Lowell 1819-1891
Fox Hall Quarters
East Princess Anne Road Norfolk, Va.
6:30 pm later same afternoon
A rolled $100 bill was set within her left nostril. The opposite end coursing along a black, powder cocaine-lined china plate, Candace took a long, subtle sniff. More of the illicit alkaloid streaking directly into her bloodstream, she swallowed hard. She dipped her index & middle fingers into her Remy Martin cognac drink, then inside her nose, moistening her nostrils. Candance laid along the chic sofa. Overtaken by charging cocaine inebriation, she stuttered. "Did Keisha... I mean, Angel, did Angel tell you what happened when we were with Sea Breeze?"
KT replied. "If there's something to tell, you better tell me now since your ass brought it up."
“I was just asking."
“So, there’s nothing I should know about went down besides what we saw you doing?"
"Nothing worth snitching about."
Dynamo took a sip of Candace's cognac. The doorbell chiming, for the umpteenth time this hour, he allowed yet another customer entrance into their Fox Hall Quarters apartment. For $150, he gave them ten grams of blueberry Kush cannabis. He ushered the customer outside. Smiling, he said. "Fam, this trap spot took off like we giving the Kush away."
KT tipped his hat to him. "We slinging the best blueberry in Tidewater. Passing out samples in Hampton and Newport News was genius. Over that side of the water, they pay $25 a gram." He took another gulp of his French cognac drink.
Dynamo, watching his friend unsuccessfully drink away the pain, went into the backroom. Upon his return, he tossed two cash cluttered jumbo Ziplock bags on the table. “Maybe that'll cheer yo Susan B. Anthony, flag saluting ass up.”
"How much is this?" KT inquired approvingly.
“$10,440. From the last two pounds like we agreed. No shorts taken."
Candace asked. "Dy, how fast you make that much?"
Dynamo, smooching cognac from her lips, snatched her by the chin. "What I tell you about butting in my bizness."
"I was just wondering." Candace conceding to his authority, acknowledged KT. "Whatever Angel did had to be bad because you look like you loss the Super Bowl and Stanley Cup all at once."
"We got into some serious riffing earlier."
Dynamo chimed. "The hell with her. Dead her ass and skate, cause chicks like that always snake dudes. I wouldn't be surprised if she sucking and fucking right now."
KT, cutting a nervous glance at his friend, was interrupted by his vibrating pants pocket. His phone against his face, he was greeted by a familiar, angelic vocal tone. He replied sharply. “Who this?"
“When are you coming home?"
"No idea."
“We need to talk. A lot of hurtful things were said and__."
KT, accepting the half-smoked blunt, shut off his phone. He took a deep drag. His lungs filling with more THC-rich cannabis smoke, he didn't protest Candace commandeering the cigarillo.
She took a drag taken and blew the smoke in his face. Regardless of Dynamo's irritation, she kissed KT on the cheek and asked. "Wanna talk about it?"
“I'm good. When I do, I know where you at."
"How about helping Dy stuff this cookie jar?"
"Some other time."
Candace pulled Dynamo close. She took yet another drag then blew smoke in his face as well. “Dy, when can I__."
"Say it so I can snap yo neck in half." Dynamo watched KT tuck both jumbo Ziplock bags behind his belt buckle, underneath his silk shirt. "Ace, you know I really don't care for yo shorty, but she YO shorty. Just be easy when you deal with her."
KT, closing the front door upon his departure, bypassed another customer heading to their apartment.
/> ∗
Waverly Way
Villa Heights, Norfolk
20 minutes later
KT, stepping onto his apartment porch, paused. Butterflies inhibited his stomach. His heart rate was accelerated. His palms were sweaty. He finally eased the key into the deadbolt lock. Slowly disengaging the lock, he slipped into his no longer humble abode. He was greeted by dim, reddish lighting and several peach aromatherapy candles. He closed the door tentatively.
Her heels clicking against the wood flooring, Angel emerged from the kitchen. Her soft, eerily humbled eyes met his bewildered own. "We need to talk."
KT took her hand and slowly had her turn around. He warred against falling for her hot pink, sheer, thigh-high teddy and matching, six-inch Coco Chanel stilettoes. He took a resolve preserving step back and said. “What's all this? And after what you said, yo ass gotta nerve to be wearing this bullshit.”
“I'm sorry about earlier." Angel, unable to pull him into her arms, pouted. "Baby, I said I was sorry."
“Forget all the trouble I went through just to surprise you witta romantic lunch. You getting promoted was a big deal. I was so proud of you. I wanted to prove it."
“Thank you, baby."
“All day, I have been asking myself the same fucked up question." KT removed the middle section of their sofa. Kneeling, he carefully detached the floorboard. He retrieved two book bags then emptied the contents on the coffee table.
Angel, spying an abundance of rubber-band bound stacks of cash, asked. "Baby, what's all this?"
“$270,000... My life savings. You wish you would've laid me down because I wouldn't give you my cash... take it. At least now you get what you wanted from me all along. Take it and get the fuck outta here. That’s all you really wanted. There it is."
"No... I don't want that! I just made a mistake! You are my world! I love you more than I love me! Please, you gotta believe that!"
KT took her into his arms. Her accelerated heartbeat and the way she held onto him cut deep. Wiping away her tears, KT cradled her face in his hands. “On my life, I want to believe you. I need to... It’s just...."
“Baby, your Angel made a terrible mistake. My secretary was watching this video on her PC."
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