The Black Widow Clique
Genesis Woods
www.urbanbooks.net
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
The Black Widow Clique
Melonee
Fiona
Melonee
Fiona
Melonee
Roman
Melonee
Fiona
Roman
Melonee
Fiona
Roman
Melonee
Roman
Roman and Melonee
Roman
Fiona
Melonee
Fiona
Roman
Melonee
Fiona
The Black Widow Clique 2
Roman
Melonee
Fiona
Roman
Melonee
Roman
Fiona
Melonee
Fiona
Roman
Fiona
Melonee
Fiona
Epilogue - Roman
Urban Books, LLC
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Farmingdale, NY 11735
The Black Widow Clique
Copyright © 2018 Genesis Woods
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-6228-6651-9
eISBN: 978-1-6228-6652-6
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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The Black Widow Clique
by
Genesis Woods
Melonee
“Happy anniversary, honey.”
The word floated through the air and pulled me from my train of thought. I was sitting in front of my vanity, brushing my hair and thinking about my life, when my husband of two years walked up behind me and slipped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck.
“Happy anniversary to you too, love,” I said and smiled as I looked at him through the mirror. “I’ll be ready to leave in ten minutes.”
“No need to rush.” He released me and stepped back. “As a matter of fact, I was hoping you still wanted to stay in tonight. I’ll have Lupe prepare us a romantic dinner, and then we can just enjoy each other for the rest of our evening.”
I turned around to face him. “I wish you would’ve said something earlier, babe. I already sent Lupe and everyone else home for the night. I didn’t want any interruptions after we came back from dinner, when I changed into the little surprise I picked up for you from Frederick’s today.”
He bit his thin bottom lip, then lifted my hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, trailing a path of light pecks all the way up to my collar. After he inhaled the scent of the Chloe Love Story perfume he had given to me earlier, I felt the moan that escaped from his throat vibrate against my neck.
“Hmmm. You know I love the way that fragrance smells on your skin. What are you trying to do to me, woman?”
I stood up from my stool and wrapped my arms around his neck. Looking into his forest- green eyes, I saw the same sparkle he always had whenever he was trying to sample a taste of my goodies. I brushed my fingers across his tanned olive skin, admiring how smooth and wrinkle free it was. No one would ever know my husband’s true age just by looking at him, since he looked as young as a colt but was as old as a mule. If this were some other point in time, I probably would’ve enjoyed being married to Mr. Douglas Wayne Evans III. He wasn’t my type physically or skin color wise, but he took care of me and treated me like a queen. Far better than anyone of my race had.
I remember the day that we accidentally ran into each other at his car dealership. I knew that once he saw my thick and stacked five-foot-nine frame, my smooth coffee-bean skin, my granite-colored eyes, and my gorgeous Rembrandt smile, he’d be putty in my hands.
It took only a couple of days for him to ask me out, a couple of weeks for him to say that he loved me, and a few months for him to ask me to marry him. Of course, his daughter from one of his previous marriages had objected to our short courtship, but once he’d added my name to his will and insurance policy, I didn’t really give a fuck about how she felt.
Douglas was the perfect example of why when it was my turn to get hitched, I chose to go for the type who was more seasoned, was quick to fall in love, and had already had multiple marriages. It was so easy to get them to fall totally head over heels for you and change, or add your name to, any document, entitling you to half or, in some cases, all their fortune. Sometimes you did meet one who was smart enough to make you sign a prenup; however, as long as my name was on the insurance policies, I didn’t care. My being a great actress in the bedroom was what would really seal the deal. The age factor wasn’t a huge issue for me, but I did prefer my future husband to have a certain maturity, as it worked in my favor. With Douglas being thirty years my senior, he got a kick out of his associates and friends praising him for pulling in a young and beautiful trophy wife like me.
“Frederick’s, huh?” he asked as he caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. “How about we skip dinner and everything else and you go change into my surprise while I get yours?”
I jumped up and down in his arms, pecked him on his lips, then ran off to the luxury two-story walk-in closet he had made especially for me in our master bedroom.
God, I’m really going to miss all of this, I said to myself as I entered my clothing sanctuary. Any designer you could think of hung from the hangers on the racks. The custom built-in vanity and the dressing area were every girl’s dream. The bag and shoe storage sections could hold over a thousand purses and heels each. I had thought about just keeping the house so I wouldn’t have to part with my closet, since my name had already been added to the deed, but that was against the rules.
“Honey, I’m ready for my surprise now!” I heard Doug call out, so I grabbed the Frederick’s of Hollywood bag I had tucked in the bottom of my lingerie drawer and dumped the contents onto the closet island. Since I had just gotten out of the shower and lotioned up a few minutes before Doug came into the room, I didn’t have to freshen up. I dropped the robe I had on to the floor, exposing my naked body, and slipped into the red-bow front-open teddy. Once I had secured my feet in the six-inch caged booties and fluffed my hair a bit, I walked back into the master suite.
The look on my husband’s face told me that he approved of his gift.
“Fuck. I can’t wait to unwrap you, Mel. Can I unwrap you, baby?” he said as he started to stroke his miniature dick. I didn’t say a word as I walked over to him and took over the back-and-forth rhythm he had going on his penis, which he seemed to be enjoying.
Sucking in a sharp breath, he let his head fall back and his eyes roll to the back of his head. The big vein in the side of his neck started to pulse noticeably, so I knew he was on the verge of cumming.
I stopped stroking his dick when the sound of glass shattering caught my attention.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered.
“Did I hear what, Mel?” he asked as he placed his hand on mine, willing me to continue w
ith my knuckle shuffle.
I heard the sound of more glass shattering.
“There it is again! Did you hear it?”
This time he opened his eyes, then stood there for a minute, trying to see if he could hear any noise. “Baby, I don’t hear anything, and I don’t know why you’re so paranoid. I set the security system before I came up here, so if there’s an intruder, don’t you think the alarm would have gone off already?” He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled me onto his lap. “If it will make you feel any better, I can go check.”
I nodded my head, and he lifted me up out of his lap and left the room.
I sat on the bed, waiting, for what seemed like ten minutes before he returned.
“I told you it was nothing,” he said. “No broken glass, no unlawful entry. Maybe Lupe or Juan came back to get something they left, got it, then left right back out. I mean, they are the only other people with the security codes beside me, you, and my daughter, so it’s plausible.” He put his hand under my chin, brought his face to mine, and gently kissed my lips. “Now, back to me unwrapping my gift.”
“You not about to unwrap a damn thing, muthafucka!” a masked gunman said as he burst into our room.
I screamed at the same time that Douglas yelled, “What the fuck!”
Two more gunmen rushed into the room, black masks adorning their faces and their weapons aimed at us. Douglas took in the scene and realized that we were outnumbered and unarmed, so he pushed my body behind his and tried to reason with the intruders.
“Look, fellas, you can take anything you want. If you need cash, I got a few thousand in the safe. If you want cars, the keys are on the key rings in the kitchen, and if you want some shit to pawn, there’s some jewelry in the closet. You can have it all. Just don’t harm me or my wife.”
“Nigga, shut the fuck up! We don’t need you to tell us shit. As a matter of fact, since you opened your mouth, we’re going to take everything you just offered and your wife,” gunman number two said.
“Hell yeah. I’ll unwrap the shit out of her and make her swallow all my babies,” the third gunman added.
I looked at the first gunman, who was standing in the corner, looking mad as fuck. I couldn’t tell if he was upset with his partners for wasting time or for looking at me the way they were.
Douglas cleared his throat, then tried to reason with the masked men again. He even offered to write them a check and not report their crimes if they let us go.
“Dude, shut the fuck up. You must think we stupid or something, huh? We don’t want no fucking check. Like my boy said, we’re going to take everything you offered in the beginning, plus your sexy-ass wife as a bonus,” said the gunman number one.
Pushing me farther behind his back, Douglas cleared his throat once again, pushed out his chest, then said, “Over my dead body.”
“Well, have it your way,” gunman number one responded with a sinister smirk.
The gunshots went off so fast, I never had time to react. All I remembered was hearing four loud-ass pops before Douglas’s body jerked and his head snapped back. Blood splattered all over my face and body before I finally felt my throat getting sore from screaming so loud.
When Douglas’s frame hit the floor like a large sack of potatoes, I dropped down and started to crawl over to him, intent on stopping his bleeding. His blood had already stained his clothes and the carpet. As I crawled over to him, the sound of a hammer being cocked back on a gun caused me to freeze in my tracks. Two seconds later, a pair of gemstone-green eyes I knew all too well leered at me before total darkness took over.
Fiona
Two years later ...
“Okay, Mel, so you’ll start that stripping gig at Club Decadence tomorrow night.”
“Stripping? What happened to me bartending?”
I had to close my eyes and count to ten real quick. Although Melonee was my best friend, I couldn’t stand her ass sometimes. “Mel, did you even read the file I gave you last week?” I asked as I went into my kitchen and grabbed a Corona out of the fridge. The fact that she didn’t answer my question and continued to flip through the television channels led me to believe that she had not. “Come on, Melonee. How many times do I have to tell you that you need to read any and every file I give you on our new marks? You see how you almost fucked up that Doug Evans hustle in the beginning!”
“I didn’t mess up shit. If memory serves me right, it was my not knowing about his allergy to nuts that got me in the door to begin with.”
I sat down beside her on the couch and looked at her as if she was crazy. “Please explain this to me.”
She snatched my beer out of my hand, took a swig, then gave it back. “I don’t know how or why you drink that nasty shit and go as far as adding lime and salt to it, like that helps the taste.” She shook her head and stuck out her tongue. “I tell you about you hood bitches.”
She went on. “Anyways, back to Doug. That day I started working at his dealership, the dumb-ass secretary that he was humping before I got there brought him a salad that had walnuts in it. When his throat started to close up, the dumb girl just stood there like she didn’t know what to do. After I heard someone scream that he kept his Epi Pens in the top drawer of his desk, I hopped up from my seat, grabbed one of those things, and stabbed him in his thigh. After he was able to start breathing and shit again, he thanked me for saving his life after knowing him for only five minutes. Told me that he could tell what type of heart I had just by what I’d done. Then you know what happened next. I took ole girl’s job and her spot as his bed buddy. My dearly departed husband didn’t know what he was getting into by messing with a girl like me.”
“And neither will the rest of these rich fuckers who fall into our web of deceit.”
“You got that right.”
We high-fived each other and just continued to talk about the old scams we used to pull together when we were teenagers and the ones we’d been getting into ever since we’d grown up. For as long as I could remember, Melonee and I had always been about our money. If we weren’t boosting shit from the mall and reselling it to the people in our neighborhood, we were doing car accident scams with Melonee’s baby daddy, Proof, also known as Jaylen, and his crew, or we were doing the fake check hustle. At one point we were even doing the “slip and fall” scam at the grocery stores, but once they caught on to what we had going down, we hurried up and shut that shit down. Just thinking about those days had me dying in my head.
Melonee and I had actually met through my dad and her mom. They dated for a few years back in the day. At first, we really didn’t like each other much, but after our parents kept forcing us to go on these family outings, we had no choice but to get along. By the time our parents broke up, we were already best friends and thick as thieves. It was weird for a minute after their separation, because whenever we would have a sleepover at one another’s house, either Melonee’s granny would have to drop her off at my house or my older brother, Max, whom we call Cowboy because of his love of those old Western movies, would have to take me over there.
I didn’t know what caused our parents to split up, but whatever it was had them damn near clawing each other’s eyes out whenever they were in each other’s presence. Even after Melonee’s mom turned around and married her new boyfriend, they still had some type of animosity between them. Whenever I’d ask my dad what had happened, he’d tell me to stay out of grown folks’ business and tend to whatever it was that teenagers were supposed to do. Never understood that statement, but, hey, I made it do what it do.
When we were about fifteen, both Mel’s life and mine changed for the worse. The dude that her mother had married ended up beating her ass to death one night because he swore up and down that she and my father were sleeping with each other behind his back. I swear, when Melonee called my phone, crying and going hysterical, I didn’t know what to do. My father, who was sitting next to me, grabbed my phone from me and calmly spoke to her. Once she was finally able to
get out what had happened, I swear, the look on my father’s face sent a chill down my spine. It was as if his soul had left his body and some psycho had completely taken over. He went upstairs and changed out of the sweats and the wife beater he had on and into a black T-shirt, black jeans, and some black tennis shoes.
When he came back downstairs and headed to the door, I asked him where was he going. He simply told me, “To handle some business.” After getting a couple of things out of his safe behind the entertainment center in the den, he gave me a hug, kissed me on my forehead, and left.
Although I witnessed my father’s arrest, I didn’t hear from him until a few days later, when he called collect from the Los Angeles men’s detention center. Turned out that my dad and Melonee’s mom had still been messing around, even though they both had moved on to other people. So when Melonee had called and told my dad that her stepdad had killed her mom, my father had gone and killed him that very same day, right in front of Melonee, the police, and whoever else was out there. He ended up getting sentenced to thirty years in prison. My life, as well as Melonee’s life, went from sugar to shit in a matter of ten seconds. She moved in with her granny, who was on a fixed income, and my brother went crazy and basically blew through the little money that my dad had left us, so Melonee and I ended up doing what we had to do and needed to do to get by.
“Uh, earth to Fiona,” Melonee said, snapping her fingers and bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah? What’s up?”
She looked at me funny. “Are you okay?” Her gray eyes got a little darker, something that happened whenever she was in her feelings.
“I’m good, girl. Just thinking about this new hustle.”
“Speaking of this new hustle, what’s the prey’s name again?”
I rolled my eyes. Not only had she not read the file, but also she hadn’t even look at it to at least see what his name was. I got up from my comfortable couch and grabbed the manila folder that was sitting on my dining-room table.
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