by Noire
“So, what brings you over this way?” she asked him as she looked down at the floor. The last time they’d been alone together she had sucked his dick and given up the pussy like a shameless freak and she felt some kinda way about that. She felt guilty for being so damned needy. “I know you didn’t just happen to be wandering around in my neighborhood.”
He held out a brown paper bag that was rolled tightly at the top. “You were on my mind. I figured you were holed up in here by yourself and probably not eating, so I came all the way to Manhattan to bring you some grub. You ran out of my house in a hurry the last time, and I wanted to make sure everything was cool with you, Jewelz. That’s all.”
Jewelz led him into her spacious and trendy living room, and when she sat down on the sofa Whitey sat down right beside her.
“My phone works you know,” Jewelz said, eyeing the cell phone that sat on her end table. “You coulda just called and saved yourself a trip.”
“Yeah, I know,” Whitey said with a serious look in his eyes. “But I wanted to bring you something to eat and I also have a few questions I wanted to ask you. Because I brought you something else besides the food too.”
Jewelz watched as Whitey stood up and took off his suit jacket. He reached into his pants pocket and came out with something gripped tightly in his fist. Her face was a big question mark as he got down on his knees in front of her and pressed it into her hands.
“Jewelz,” he whispered as a look of mad worry entered his eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I found this on the floor after you spent the night at my crib. I been noticing other little things about you too, but this right here scared the hell outta me, girl. Seriously. I’m worried about you. I’m more than worried. I’m terrified.”
Jewelz stared down at the long clump of hair that Whitey had pushed into her hand, then reached up and touched her wig. She sighed deeply. There was no doubt that it was hers. She had been shedding mad hair for a minute now, and right now underneath her wig she was almost completely bald.
Jewelz pursed her lips and turned away from all the questions in Whitey’s eyes. Chemo was a bitch and you never knew where you were gonna be when your shit fell out.
“Umm, yeah,” she said, leaning over to place the loose hair in an ashtray so she could burn it later. “Sorry about that. My doctors have me on some medication right now that has some real weird side effects.”
“What kind of medicine?” Whitey asked, drilling her with his ocean-blue eyes. “The only kind of medication I can think of that makes your hair just fall out like that is chemotherapy. But only people who have cancer usually take that kind of drug. So what’s going on with you, Jewelz? What’s really real?”
The amount of pain and distress in Whitey’s voice and eyes hit Jewelz like a sledgehammer. He was truly, truly worried about her. He was on his knees clutching her hands and massaging her flesh with his thumbs, and Jewelz couldn’t help but collapse under the weight of his genuine concern.
“W-Whitey,” she licked her lips nervously and began. “I-I just don’t know how to tell you this…I mean I just don’t want nobody all up in my business like that…feeling sorry for me and all…”
“C’mon, Jewelz,” he urged her. “I’m not just any old body. Look at me. I’m the guy who’s always there for you, right? I’m your Whitey-on-the-spot. Hell, I’m down here killing my knees like a sucker for you right now. Whatever’s going on you don’t have to hide it from me, Jewelz. I promise you can trust me, baby. You know you can.”
Strong emotions rushed through Jewelz’s entire body. She had been carrying the weight and bearing the burden of her disease all alone for so damn long. She had convinced herself that there was nobody in this world who truly gave a fuck about her. That there was nobody to share her pain and her fears with. That there was nobody who would really be affected if she lived or died.
But maybe there was Whitey.
Jewelz gazed into his eyes and what she saw shining there suddenly satisfied a burning, desperate need in her that stretched out like a gaping black hole.
You are not alone. I am here with you.
Jewelz mentally collapsed. She was only fuckin human, and she broke down and cried hot, pain-filled tears as all that ‘strong backbone’ and ‘stiff upper lip’ shit went right out the window.
“Whitey I’ve got cancer,” she blurted out as the tears ran down her cheeks. “For the second damn time in my life, I’ve got cancer.”
It was Whitey’s turn to collapse. He slumped forward and buried his face in Jewelz’s lap as he cried out in sympathy for her.
“Jewelz, Jewelz,” he moaned as she ran her fingers through his hair and cried with him. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Oh my God, it must be terrible for you, baby. Just terrible…”
“It’s been horrible,” Jewelz admitted. “It’s been a nightmare…but please, Whitey. Please don’t tell nobody. You gotta promise me that you won’t tell nobody!”
“Sshh…” he pressed his finger to her lips. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul. I swear I won’t.”
In the stillness of the apartment Jewelz and Whitey clung together. Jewelz’s body shook with soft sobs as Whitey crouched on his knees and held her around the waist. He let her cry it out, then he wiped her tears and murmured words of love and comfort that felt like a soothing balm washing straight over her heart.
Jewelz wasn’t sure when the dynamics of their situation actually changed, but at some point she realized that Whitey’s touch and his loving caresses had become different. His hands became more intimate and insistent. From his knees, he gripped her by the thighs and ran his palms up and down over the flesh of her hips. His face pressed deeply into her groin as he reached inward and slid his fingers up the leg of her basketball shorts and caressed her smooth skin.
“Whitey…” Jewelz pulled away and reached for his wrist. “Yo, Whitey hold up…”
But he had already dipped his head low and his lips were on her inner-thigh now. His tongue too. Ignoring her protests, he was nibbling and licking his way up her shorts toward that moist place that he knew so well.
Jewelz shivered all the way down to her bones. It felt so good to be touched and tempted, and as guilty as she felt, she just didn’t have the strength to stop him.
Whitey went deeper up the leg of her shorts and pulled the crotch aside. He stroked her kitty-kat until Jewelz gave up the fight and lay back on the sofa and moaned in pleasurable surrender. She pulled up her t-shirt and freed her titties, then lay there playing with her nipples as he stirred up a pulsating beat between her legs.
Whitey took advantage of her excitement to unbutton his starched shirt and strip it off. He inched Jewelz’s basketball shorts down past her hips and dragged them down her legs.
With nothing stopping him from getting what he wanted, Whitey parted her lower lips and sighed at the marvelous sight of her milk chocolate candy with the sweet pink center. He planted small wet kisses on the smooth area of Jewelz’s groin before moving closer and getting to the good part.
Lifting her slim legs over his shoulders Whitey ate that pussy like he was at a soul food buffet. Everything about Jewelz was delicious to him. He loved the way her body was shaped, the tastiness of her cream, the scent her pussy gave off when it was hot, and the way she hissed and moaned when his tongue flicked over the exact right spot.
Making Jewelz feel good was Whitey’s main priority, and even though he was dying to make love to her, he didn’t even think about taking his hard dick outta his pants because today it was all about Jewelz.
Laying flat on the couch and gripped in the throes of her passion, Jewelz was all the way cool with that shit. She stretched out and allowed Whitey to give her the oral workout that she felt she deserved. There was such little joy in her life these days, so little love, that she couldn’t help but take advantage of the opportunity for any kind of gratification when it presented itself.
Whitey sensed all this in Jewelz, and because
he was truly connected to her with his heart, he doubled his efforts to bring her to the heights of arousal. Although after her first nut she shrieked and moaned and tried to buck him off, he held her tight and wouldn’t let her up until she had exploded with two more orgasms and her legs were trembling with exhaustion.
When it was over Whitey helped her sit up and handed her her shorts.
“You wanna take a quick shower while I step in the kitchen and pop your soup in the microwave? I can run you a hot bath if you want,” Whitey offered as Jewelz pulled her sports bra back down over her titties and put on her shorts. “I’ll even wash your back for you.”
She shook her head.
“Uh-uh. That’s okay. I’m good.”
Letting Whitey in the shower with her was outta the question. Not only didn’t Jewelz want him or anybody else to see her without her wig on, suddenly she didn’t want him up in her crib like that neither.
“Um, you know what? Thanks for everything, Whitey, but I’m really tired,” she told him as she passed him his shirt, then stood up and led him towards the door. “I really appreciate you coming over here and checking for me, but I was up late last night and I think I already overdid it today. I need to lay down and relax for a little while.”
Whitey got it. He felt like he had a real connection going on with Jewelz and in her fragile condition he could dig her need to get some extra rest.
“Cool.” He slid back into his shirt and then picked up his suit jacket and made sure his gear was straight. Like an obedient puppy he followed Jewelz over to the door and stepped outside. But instead of leaving, he leaned against the doorframe with his body halfway across the threshold.
“You know, if you ever need anything I’m only a phone call away. Just hit my digits and I’ll come running, a’ight?”
Jewelz nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. And remember, don’t tell anybody about what’s going on with me okay?”
“I won’t,” Whitey promised her. “You have my word, baby.”
Jewelz stared at him for a brief second then said, “Especially Slick. Don’t tell Slick.”
“Slick!” Whitey spit out the corner of his mouth as his whole face changed. Just the sound of that nigga’s name sent his jealousy raging from zero to a hundred in about two seconds flat.
“Fuck Slick! Why are you so worried about that idiot finding out? He shouldn’t even be a part of this damn equation, Jewelz! I don’t see him over here bringing you no food, or rubbing your back, or eating your fucking pussy!”
“Boy calm down and stop making all that noise!” Jewelz hissed as she glanced at her neighbor’s door and hoped nobody had overheard him. “Fuck’s wrong with you? This ain’t even about Slick!”
“Then why’d you have to mention his fuckin name? Why does he even have to be on your mind?” Whitey demanded. “What’s it gonna take for you to realize that Slick doesn’t give a shit about you, Jewelz? You’re not even a woman to him, you know. You’re nothing more than an expendable gunslinger to that slimeball!”
Suddenly he stood up tall and sneered down at her. “And why would you even wanna fuck with a man who can send you out there on the streets to die everyday? What kind of woman wants a dude who can do her like that? Is that all you’re worth, Jewelz? A gun and no roses? Just what kind of sadistic bitch are you anyway?”
Jewelz shook her head, which was suddenly pounding. “Gone, Whitey. You all in your feelings and you about to get real outta pocket right now, baby. Gone.”
“Oh, so the man who cares about you has to leave, but if Slick rolled up in here right now you’d welcome him with open legs, wouldn’t you?”
“What? Are you crazy?” Jewelz spit back with mad attitude. She was fronting with the crazy look on her face, but deep down inside both of them knew Whitey was absolutely right.
It had always been about Slick with her. Slick, Slick, Slick. And yes, if he walked his fine black ass off that elevator right now then yes, Jewelz would make a liar outta herself and come clean outta her panties because he could damn sure get it. All of it.
“Look, it’s no secret how I feel about you, Jewelz,” Whitey pleaded. “All I wanna do is be with you and make you mine. If you were my woman you would never have to grip another ratchet or go out on another job again. Never. I swear I would put you up on a pedestal for life. I would take you outta this stinking Empire State and surround you with more finery and luxury than you could ever imagine. Fuck Slick, baby! Choose me!”
Jewelz shook her head tiredly as she closed the door in Whitey’s face. He was a cool dude and he had really been there for her when she needed him. But she wasn’t trying to belong to him. Her heart already belonged to somebody else. And the heart was stubborn like that. It wanted what it wanted. No matter how many other men she was with, Jewelz’s heart belonged to Slick, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
CHAPTER 23
Beauty Parlors and Blood
“A’ight people it’s about that time,” Wild Man informed his squad as they assembled at a refurnished warehouse in Queens. He was the lead gunslinger on the job and he had sounded the alarm at one a.m. and demanded that every member of the Zip ’em Up Crew report locked and cocked to their warehouse location no later than two o’clock.
“This shit don’t make no fuckin sense,” Jewelz bitched under her breath as they suited up and packed the weapons, silencers, and ammo that Wild Man had provided for them.
“We supposed to hit some Queen of Diamonds in the middle of the night at a beauty parlor? Don’t no real bitch get her hair did on no Sunday night at three o’clock in the morning!”
“A gunslinger is on call twenty-four-seven,” Whitey said, sticking two magazines of ammo down in his jacket pocket. “This is the job you signed up for, remember?”
“Was anybody talking to you? Jewelz snapped. She was still mad that he had caught her in a weak moment earlier that morning. She had let that bastard eat up her whole pussy after blabbing to him about all her business, and then he got out in her hallway and showed his ass. “How about you speak when spoken to, stupid ass!”
Slick side-eyed her curiously. “Just chill and strap up,” he said to both of them. His voice was low and cold, but on the real, the shit didn’t make much sense to him neither.
But the message he’d received from Body Bags Unlimited had been straight and to the point: Eliminate the target at three a.m. at a beauty shop in Queens. Everything about this hit was perplexing to Slick, but those were their orders and they were obligated to carry them out. Besides, the fact that the BBU had agreed to tear off triple dollars to his team told him how crucial this hit was to the person who had ordered it.
“Yo, bruh, do we at least know who owns the beauty shop?” Wild Man asked. Queens was his territory, so the responsibility for the job fell on his shoulders. Like everybody else he was feeling some kinda way about rolling in half-blind, but he took his leadership role very seriously and he was ready to get it in.
Slick shook his head. “Nah. We don’t know shit but the address. I sent Noodles ahead to try to scope it out a little bit before we get there, but we got a real narrow timeframe to work with. According to the BBU, the best time to catch the Queen of Diamonds out there lightly guarded will be at three a.m. After that the bitch’ll probably sky-up and who knows when we’ll be able to roll on her again.”
“But what about her click?” Wild Man asked. “Them bitches said “lightly guarded?” What kinda security team do she usually be holding?”
Slick shrugged. “That we don’t know. We just need to be ready for any and every fuckin thing, nah’m sayin? It don’t really matter how many muthafuckas she got watching that ass. We going in for a piece of it, and we ain’t leaving until we get it.”
$$$$$
There were five beautician chairs in Blondie’s House of Hair located off Jamaica Avenue, but on this particular night in the quantum town of Queens, only one chair was open for business.
It was close to three a.m. and as u
sual they were celebrating Sunday Nite Oldies. It was a lil late-night social mixer and get-together that the old school beauty and barbershop owners in Queens had been participating in every week for years. Since most of them worked on the weekends and their shops were closed on Mondays, each Sunday night after closing up, the old-head owners came together at a selected shop where they drank, smoked weed, played Bid Whist and Spades, laid down some Domino bones, and ate pig feet and collard greens with potato salad.
This week they were chilling at Blondie’s joint. Everybody else was partying in the side room and getting tipsy, but Blondie was standing up on her tired feet working like a dog.
Sly McFly’s goddaughter Honore was sitting in Blondie’s chair with her long hair hanging around her shoulders. Her tender scalp was burning like hell from the salon perm that Blondie had slathered all over her roots and new growth. The shit was sizzling so hot that Honore was squirming around in her seat like she had crabs in her drawers and she couldn’t wait for the first blast of cool water to hit her head.
“Damn! How much longer?” Honore bitched. Her eyes watered as she shook her leg and tapped her foot against the pain.
“Calm down,” Blondie said, shifting her weight on her bare, aching feet. “I know it’s tingling a little bit,” she told her, “but that’s to be expected when your scalp gets real dry and you scratch up all your flakes like that.”
“But I didn’t even scratch it all that much,” Honore protested. She fanned her hands uselessly around her head tryna stir up a breeze. “You sure this stuff is mild because it’s cookin the shit outta my scalp and my hair ain’t even that nappy.”
“Yep, it’s mild. That’s the only strength that your type of hair can take.”
“Well the shit don’t feel mild,” Honore muttered under her breath as her eyes watered from the intense pain.
“Well all that scratching and digging you did got your scalp inflamed and outta control. Try to relax for just a few more minutes. The tingling shouldn’t get any worse than it is right now.”