The Last Kings 2

by C. N. Phillips

  “I’m sorry, Say,” she sobbed, letting go of her hair and covering her face with her wet hands. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I miss you so much.”

  It had been a year, but things never seemed to get any easier. Mocha let the water run all over her hair and face until she finally was able to stand up and wash herself. When she got out, she wiped her eyes before drying her body. Once she saw what time it was she hurried up so that she could get ready for her date that night. By date she meant client. She only set up her dates when she knew Khiron would be gone on business. She usually only met with them on the high end part of Detroit where she knew none of Khiron’s thugs would be lurking. That night she would only be making two thousand dollars, which was nothing compared to the two hundred thousand she made daily as a Last King. She would take it, though, because she had no other source of income.

  Mocha knew she had the body of a goddess and could get whatever she wanted out of a man. At first selling her body was out of the question, but when she thought about it she knew it was the only way she could secretly stack up without Khiron finding out about it. He refused to let her get a job, so she started one of her own. She met her first client at the doctor’s office when she had gone in for her yearly pap smear exam. The way Dr. Howard looked at her, she knew he wanted her. Married and all, she saw the thirst in his eyes as he fumbled with the speculum. After the uncomfortable exam, Mocha didn’t wait for the doctor to leave the room to get dressed. She stood up and watched the doctor’s eyes widen as she walked over to where her panties and leggings were. She slowly put them on, purposely facing the opposite direction so that he had the perfect view of her round cheeks.

  “I-I’ll be right back with your discharge papers,” he stammered. His white face was now beet red.

  “Tell me, Dr. Howard,” Mocha said after putting her red heels back on. She walked over to him and used one finger to gently push him down into a chair behind him. “Does your wife give you enough attention at home? Because the way you’re eyeing my body is telling me that something is missing.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Dr. Howard tried to play dumb and swallowed hard.

  Mocha chuckled. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she bent down until her cherry red lips were right by his ear.

  “You want to fuck me, don’t you?” she purred into his ear. “Hard? Soft? Fast . . . or slow?”

  She removed her right hand from his shoulder and placed it between his legs. She was surprised at the older man’s size as she felt it awaken from her touch. She let out an all-out laugh and stroked him.

  “I guess I’m right,” she said, standing up straight again and removing her hand. She walked over to her purse. “Two thousand, extra fees for anything more than sex. My pussy is golden, I should be charging more. You have my number; use it if you’re interested. If not, I’ll see you at my next yearly.”

  She blew a sensual kiss at a dumbfounded Dr. Howard and walked out the door. She kept herself together when she checked out and grabbed her own discharge papers from the receptionist. When she finally reached her Impala she shut the door and gripped the wheel, shaking. There was no doubt in her mind that Dr. Howard would call her, but the reality of it all was shattering.

  It will only be for a little bit, she said to herself when Doctor Howard called that same night. Just until you make enough money to leave.

  But there she was, six months later, getting ready for yet another date. Her clientele had increased. Only rich men with negative STD results were on her roster. The man that night was a brain surgeon who had wanted to take her to a rundown motel that was not too far from her home. He usually took her to penthouse suites or the second home he secretly owned. That night he wanted to live out the fantasy of fucking a poor black damsel in distress. She only agreed because Khiron was out of town, otherwise that would have been too close to home. Although he had eyes on her, it didn’t take much money to break his little young soldiers and get them to turn the other cheek. They were rookies.

  Once she was fully dressed in a simple, cream-colored mini dress and black pumps, Mocha made her way to the motel room. It only took her twenty minutes to get there, and as soon as she pulled up she received a text on her second cell phone that Khiron knew nothing about.

  I’m in room 24.

  After she parked her car far enough away from the motel she looked at all the numbers on the doors until she found the room he was in. Knocking softly, she only had to wait a few seconds before she heard footsteps scurrying to the door. The occupant of the room cracked the door open.

  “Can I help you?” Charles the brain surgeon said, standing there in jeans and a T-shirt.

  “Please!” Mocha faked a tone of panic. “I think somebody is after me. Do you have a phone I can use?”

  “Uh, yeah, come right in,” Charles welcomed her.

  Charles was a short, fat white man who had a fetish for role playing. He was also one of Mocha’s lower paying customers. On top of that, she always felt dirty after having his hands all over her body. She decided that after that night she would no longer service his fat, nasty ass.

  “Thank you so much!” She stood in front of the bed and waited. When he didn’t hand her the phone and instead stared hungrily at her, she furrowed her brow in a pout. “Can I use your phone please?”

  “Doesn’t it cost to use a pay phone?” Charles grinned and put one of his hands over the bulge in his crotch area.

  Mocha gasped and placed her hand over her chest as if appalled by what he was insinuating.

  “But sir, I’m not that kind of girl!”

  But Charles had already advanced on her, and was slipping his hand up her dress.

  “What are you doing out this late with a short dress like this on?”

  “I was just out with a friend,” Mocha said timidly and backed up until she “accidently” fell on the bed.

  Charles grinned at her performance, and his chubby cheeks rose.

  “Can I be your friend?” he asked, slipping her shoes off and parting her legs by the knees.

  Before she could reply, he put her thong to one side of her vagina and shoved two fingers inside of her.

  “Ahh,” Mocha grimaced. “Sir, I—”

  “Don’t be shy, baby,” Charles said. “You need to use the phone, don’t you?”

  Mocha looked into his green eyes and nodded her head. Charles unzipped his pants and let them fall to his ankles. Before anything real happened Mocha looked to her right and saw that her money was sitting neatly on the dresser. He knew the procedure. Mocha looked back to him and saw his tiny penis poking through his boxers.

  “Oh, my!” She made her eyes big as saucers. “You’re so big.”

  Charles brushed his blonde hair from his face and mounted her. He raised her dress over her head and threw it to the ground. Not bothering to remove her bra, he popped each nipple out. As he nibbled and slurped away, Mocha tried not to feel sick at the feeling and sight of him on her. Instead she began to moan and pretend that she liked it. While he was defiling her breasts she heard him rip something open. She didn’t have to look to know that he was putting on a condom, she smelled it.

  “Turn around,” he grunted, and of course Mocha obliged.

  Charles began to plant wet kisses down her back once her knees were planted on the rough comforter of the bed. When he reached her ass he parted her cheeks and she felt his wet warm tongue start going to town on her asshole.

  “Oooohh, yes,” Mocha moaned into the pillow.

  She couldn’t fake the tiny quivers coming from her body. If there was one thing that man could do, it was eat ass. The only sounds heard were her moans and the slurping of his mouth. He was the only man that Mocha had ever met that didn’t eat pussy but would lick the shit out of some ass. When he had gotten his fix he inserted his five-inch penis inside of Mochas wetness and began to thrust in and out. Although Mocha barely felt it, she let out a scream like it was the biggest dick she’d ever received in her lif
e. She threw it back at him and he repeatedly slapped her cheeks to see them jiggle.

  “You.” Slap. “Dirty.” Slap. “Black.” Slap. “Whore!”

  After about ten minutes of the doggie style position he must have gotten tired, because he laid on his back, breathing heavily. Mocha almost threw up at the sight of his sweat drenched T-shirt and face when she straddled him. She began to ride him like a wild woman, cringing inside while he gripped her thighs.

  “Such a dirty black bitch,” he said again, watching her breasts bounce. His nails dug into her. “Yea. You like that big dick, don’t you?

  Mocha almost burst out laughing.

  “Yes, daddy,” she moaned instead.

  Charles used his thumb to circle around her clit, and she couldn’t deny how good it felt. Soon they were both moaning as she rode him to ecstasy. Mocha felt his dick pulsate and explode inside of her. She then felt herself release, too.

  “Ahhh!” they both said in a pleasurable unison.

  Breathing heavily, she rolled onto the bed next to him. She knew she wouldn’t have to worry about a round two, because minutes later she heard snores coming from beside her. Getting up from the bed, she went to the bathroom to clean and look at herself. After five minutes of being in the bathroom she came back out and put her clothes on. Once she slipped her feet back into her pumps she grabbed her money and was out the door. The drive home was a silent one, and she let her thoughts consume her. The familiar sounds of Detroit kept her focused on the road, and it didn’t take long for her to get to where she was going. Pulling into her driveway, she saw that there was somebody sitting on her porch, almost as if they were waiting.

  “Who the hell is that?” she asked aloud to herself, unbuckling her seatbelt.

  She knew it wasn’t Khiron because he had a key. The person stood up when Mocha opened her car door, and she could make out the frame of a woman in designer clothes and heels. Her face was still dark.

  “Excuse me, but who the fuck are you?” Mocha put her hand in her purse.

  She felt her fingers touch her gun, Lucy, and prepared to aim and shoot. The stranger stepped down from the stoop toward the light by Mocha’s garage, and her features became more distinguished. Mocha’s heart was beating like a drummer as she tried to catch her breath. The woman before her looked different than she remembered, since she now had a bob haircut, however the sharpness in her deep brown eyes was the same. She was still gorgeous with her five-five frame and Coca-Cola shape. Mocha stared in disbelief and took a deep breath.

  “Sadie?”

  Chapter 7

  For months, I played the scene of when I would finally come face-to-face with Mocha over and over in my head. I wondered what I would do in that moment, how I would feel. There I stood, staring at my former best friend with nothing but hate surging through my veins. I would have given my life for her two times, but when put in the line of fire she proved that she wouldn’t do the same for me. My trigger finger twitched, but I told myself to calm down, because unfortunately I needed her. She was soaking in my presence and I saw her eyes linger on my the fresh bob haircut I now rocked. Before I left Miami, after thinking on it for a while, I allowed Devynn to use her scissors on my head. A new look for a new chapter in my life.

  “H-how?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “What?” I asked in a low tone, cocking my head. “Do you fuckin’ want a hug? What’s the matter, Mo? You look like you just saw a ghost!”

  “Sadie, I’m so sorry. I never wanted any of that to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

  I was unmoved by her words, and the tears in her eyes meant nothing to me. I adjusted the black gloves on my hands and tried to let my anger subside.

  “You want to know how I survived, huh?” I chuckled. “You should have paid more attention to Grandma Rae. I have a special heart Mocha, you remember her saying that?”

  She nodded her head, and I saw the confusion spread across her face.

  “The bullet Khiron put in my chest didn’t penetrate it. My heart is on the opposite side of my chest, unlike the common person. That’s what she meant by saying my heart was special. I found out after the fact of being shot. If Khiron was smart, he would have put more than three bullets in my body,” I smirked. “His mistake. But if it hadn’t been for Adrianna and Devynn showing up when they did, I would have been dead no question. It took six months of physical therapy and being connected to fuckin’ tubes to fully function again.”

  My finger twitched again, but I clenched my fist. I glared into Mocha’s eyes.

  “Did it make you happy?” I taunted her calmly. “Watching Ray die?”

  Mocha shook her head and let the streams of tears slide down her face. All of the good times that we had together raced through my mind like a video reel. I had entrusted her with everything, and in return she betrayed me.

  “We took you in, Mocha!” I yelled into the night. “Bitch, you didn’t have one person to live for, and we gave you that! But then you chose a nigga over us?” I took a breath, fighting my tears. “Over family? I don’t have anybody now, Mocha. Not Grandma Rae, not Ray, nobody! My cousin couldn’t even receive a proper burial because there was nothing left to bury. For what? For this?”

  I began walking toward her and waved my arms in a circular motion.

  “Bitch, this nigga got you living out of a fuckin’ shoebox, ho’ing on the low,” I shook my head. “I could dead your ass, and trust me it’s so tempting, but I’m not going to.”

  Mocha looked taken aback, and I smiled. She thought I was there to kill her.

  “I can’t kill you, actually,” I told her. “Just like Khiron used you as his key, I’m using you as mine. And I need you to lead me to someone.”

  “Y-your key to what? And lead you to who?” Mocha asked meekly.

  “Kings don’t fucking die, remember, Mocha?” I said. “And there’s a peasant running my city. I need it back. Marie’s missing; I know she’s not dead. Tyler isn’t going to rest until he finds her.”

  I was directly in front of her, nose to nose. I nodded my head down the street and she looked toward the bullet proof Hummer that was once Ray’s.

  “Tyler’s alive?” she asked, dumbfounded.

  “You’re not stupid, Mocha. You know what’s up. We had to keep a low profile. But now, it’s time to take back what’s ours, and you’re going to help.” I turned my back to her and began to walk away. I stopped and slightly turned my head back. “This meeting? It never happened. The real war starts tomorrow. Play your role. You’ll be hearing from me soon. Oh, and don’t worry. If this doesn’t work I will kill you, then shoot Khiron’s mother’s house up and make him come look for me.”

  I turned my head forward and without another word walked across the street toward where the all black Hummer was parked. The sound of my heels stabbing the concrete kept my emotions in check until I got in the vehicle where Devynn and Adriana sat waiting for me. I motioned for Devynn to pull off as soon as the door was shut.

  “What happened?” Adrianna asked, leaning forward from the back seat.

  “I’ll be contacting her tomorrow,” I told them, hoping they wouldn’t pry, but of course that was impossible Devynn.

  “Yooo,” she started. “For a second there I thought you were about to take that bitch out of her misery. I would have left her leaking in front of that raggedy-ass house.”

  I ignored Devynn and continued looking straight ahead at the familiar scenery. My eyes shifted, falling on the familiar moves of a few young corner boys hitting the block. I couldn’t help but shake my head knowing they were moving so close to my grandmother’s block. Ray would have never approved. My heart wrenched and I couldn’t wait to get out of that part of town, too many happy memories were flooding my brain. Happy memories that I couldn’t stand to think about. After seeing Mocha I was past the point of tears. If I succumbed to the emotions washing over me the rage would be too powerful. I’d have to turn around and finish the job early. Instead I focuse
d on the fact that we really needed to keep it pushing. We were hot riding around in Ray’s Hummer; anyone native to the area could spot the truck a block away. I didn’t want to take any chances of Khiron making any connections.

  That night I definitely never planned on making physical contact with Mocha. Tyler’s informant in Detroit gave him the information on where she lived and how she was secretly a prostitute at night. The plot twist and irony in that were just too sweet. I couldn’t even say I felt sorry for her, at least she wasn’t attached to tubes for months out of her life. I was only supposed to be in her house to plant a cell phone and set up surveillance cameras. Breaking into her house was easy; leaving without seeing her was hard. Even though I hated her a piece of me needed to look in her eyes. I needed her to see my face when I said what I had to say.

  “Go back to the house,” I instructed, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

  I had a lump in my throat and I needed to get as far away from that neighborhood as possible. The sorrow deep inside my gut was eating away at me. Mocha was my sister, and even though her arrangements were a consequence of her own doing, I couldn’t imagine living the way that she was. In a sense we had the same enemy, and he was an ugly son of a bitch, which was why I had to take him down.