Lickin' License Part 2: More Sex, More Saga

by Intelligent Allah

  Vanessa moaned as his thrusts sent sparks throughout her body. Her mind was in another world. A utopian sphere saturated by passion and pleasure.

  Domingo leaned back as Vanessa grinded harder and they both climaxed at the same time. She fell into his embrace. Both of their bodies were drenched in sweat. Their breathing slowed.

  I can't believe I just fucked him and I liked every moment of it.

  “Get up,” said Domingo.

  Vanessa eased over to the passenger seat and pulled down her skirt.

  “You sure put your back into that.” Domingo laughed. “That pussy could throw me off if it wasn't a payment and I wasn't about my business.”

  “Yeah, let’s get down to business,” Jahiem said, climbing from under a blanket in the back row of the Expedition.

  “Oh, shit.” Vanessa turned around and stared down the long barrel of the .22-caliber Ruger Jahiem held. She turned back to Domingo. “What the fuck is this? You bastard.”

  Domingo turned on the truck and pulled off.

  “You set me up,” Vanessa said.

  “You set yourself up,” said Domingo. “I thought I was gonna have to come get you, but you came right to me. And you paid me fifty stacks, sucked my dick, plus rode me like a Great Adventure ride. You set yourself up.”

  Vanessa looked back into Jahiem's eyes. Her heart was already in overdrive, but her hands began to tremble from the thought of what awaited her. She was almost sure that she would face the same torture and abuse that Candy had.

  Looking at Domingo, she realized he was right. She had brought herself to him. Her trip to him was the culmination of a long series of events that began with her failure to heed Rich's calls for her and Candy to end their plot for revenge. Now, they had moved on, but Vanessa's rebelliousness would possibly result in her demise.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  DOMINGO

  Domingo would have preferred not to have gone inside of te vacant building in the Bronx. But he walked behind Jahiem and Vanessa, past the “FOR SALE” sign outside of the empty innards of the two-story home on Jerome Avenue. Tahiem had opened the front door and slammed it behind Domingo. Domingo watched Jahiem push Vanessa into the wall, face-first. She fell to the wooden floor.

  Tahiem snatched her from the floor by her 'fro and pointed at her before turning toward Domingo. “This the little bitch that's schemin' to murk my sister?”

  Domingo nodded, hearing Tahiem speak a full sentence for the first time. He wanted to laugh at the sight of the miniature madmen. They were half his height. But they were twice as bulky because of the bulletproof vests that bulged from their chests. But despite their humorous appearance, Domingo never lost sight of how dangerous they were.

  Tahiem slapped Vanessa off her feet, sending her crashing back into the wall before hitting the floor.

  She looked up, her bloody lips quivering. She curled up in a corner like a wounded puppy.

  “Lil' bitch a freak too,” Jahiem said. “Fucked the shit outta Domingo a little while ago.”

  “Yeah?” Tahiem said.

  “Had my dick hard than a motherfucker the whole time.” Jahiem handed his gun to his brother and began unbuttoning his pants.

  I know he ain't 'bout to take no pussy. “Fuck you doin'?” Domingo asked.

  Jahiem smirked. “Same shit you did.”

  Domingo shook his head. “Nah, nah, nah, nah. I don't jump outta trees, ya heard? Stupid ho gave me the pussy.”

  “And she gonna give it to me,” Jahiem said.

  “You said you brought her here to get some info on Rich. Not to get a nut off,” Domingo added.

  “Domingo, who the fuck you questioning?”

  Domingo looked at Tahiem. “Yo, Tah, calm your brother down, ya heard?”

  “What?” Tahiem trained his brother's gun on Domingo.

  Domingo surrendered his palms, his hands at shoulder-height. “Vanessa the one y'all wanna kill, not me. I helped Jahiem get her here, remember?”

  “So,” Tahiem blurted.

  “I'm just sayin’, get the info on Rich, body her, and then handle Rich. I'll murk her right now.”

  Tahiem turned to Vanessa.

  Domingo noticed the lit screen on the phone she held in her hand.

  “I know that ain't no phone,” Tahiem said.

  Fuck! She might be tapin' us, callin' the police, anything, Domingo thought. He pulled his gun, drawing Tahiem's attention.

  Tahiem fired a shot and then Domingo began shooting. The dim room became a center of sparks and gun smoke. Domingo squeezed off every bullet in his .380 as he bolted out of the door. He made it to his truck and pulled off, trying to figure out exactly how such a simple plan went wrong and if anyone was killed. He replayed the scene in his head as he drove. There was no doubt that he could soon be faced with problems from the police or the Twins.

  He didn't know which was worse. Then there was the frightening possibility that he would be a wanted man by the police and the Twins.

  * * *

  Domingo circled his block for a third time, then parked around the corner from his home. He was confident he had not been followed after fleeing the shootout. But his confidence was not enough when his life was at stake. He could still hear Tahiem's bullets whizzing past his ears. It was a deafening sound he had experienced before, but had never gotten used to. He had seen Vanessa's body tumble over as it was met by at least one of the slugs that flew through the room. But what mattered most to Domingo was if she was dead, who was on the other end of her phone, and what had they seen or heard. The police? Rich? Or them two white girls Candy said Vanessa was fucking with. Domingo's mind was speeding.

  He opened the gate to his front yard and treaded over the concrete pathway onto his porch. His eyes scanned the block, then he keyed his front door and stepped inside.

  Candy walked to him slowly, her eyes locked on his. She kissed him. “What's up?”

  Domingo silently tried to gauge Candy. There was something in her kiss and stare that seemed abnormal. Her smile wasn't as inviting as usual. She seemed guarded. “Ain't nothin',” Domingo responded, before finding a seat on his couch.

  Candy stood across from him. “What's in the bag?”

  Domingo held up the brown paper bag containing the $50,000 Vanessa had given him. “The root of all evil.” He smiled. “That brown paper bag under your mattress drug money,” he quoted Jay-Z's “Imaginary Player” and chuckled.

  “Guess that's a joke, because I've dealt with enough hustlers to know they have a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy about where they get their money.”

  Domingo leaned back on the couch and placed the money on the coffee table. “It's a safety measure. You can't be held accountable for what you don't know.”

  “So I've been told. Anyway, I remember when I first met you and you said you don't sell drugs.”

  “I remember.”

  “You said you get it any way you can.”

  “Jack of all trades.”

  Candy was silent, staring at Domingo. “Any way?”

  “There's exceptions to every rule. Now you done with the twenty-one questions?”

  Candy giggled. “Yeah, Dave Chappelle.”

  “Come here.” Domingo pulled his gun from his waist and put it on the couch as he guided Candy onto his lap.”

  She grabbed the gun. “Nice.”

  “Dangerous.”

  She removed the clip and cocked the gun back. Her eyebrows arched and she looked at Domingo. “Not if it's empty.”

  Domingo unhanded her of the gun and set it back on the couch.

  “You don't strike me as the type who would have left home with an empty gun.”

  “Sometimes when I'm in the streets I have to do more than carry it.”

  Candy looked at Domingo in silence.

  Domingo could feel her body tense up. There was apprehension in her eyes. It was the type of look he expected from most women. But Candy was not most women. She had held and used guns to their fullest extent. H
e placed his hands in hers. “What I do in the streets is to make things better for us. Ain't no 'me' no more, ya heard?”

  Candy slowly nodded.

  Domingo removed a $10,000 stack from the bag and placed it in her hand. “What's mine is yours, Mamita. And it ain't never been like that with me and no woman. Just like my doors never been open to no woman before you. When I say I'm feeling you and I been feeling you since I met you, I ain't playin'.” He kissed Candy, allowing her to taste his tongue for a moment.

  She hugged him. When she pulled back, her eyes were verging on watery.

  “You all right, Mamita?”

  She nodded.

  “Talk to me.” He began to ponder if Candy was the person on the other end of Vanessa's phone.

  She shook her head. “It's nothing. I was just thinking about Rich and Vanessa and what happened when I put my trust in them.”

  “I ain't Rich and I definitely ain't Vanessa, ya heard? You don't have to worry about them no more.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It's about us.” Domingo ran his hand through her hair, down to her back.

  “Sometimes I still think about them. I don't hate them. I just understand we could never be together.”

  “Feelings don't go away overnight, but eventually they gotta go away.” Domingo kissed her.

  Candy stood when they finished. She gazed at Domingo. “You want something to eat?”

  “Yeah. After I get out of the shower.” He grabbed his gun and inserted the clip before grabbing his bag of money and walking off. He undressed, then entered the shower. As he lathered his body, he thought about Candy and how awkward she was acting. He realized that they had made an agreement to be faithful to each other relatively quick. So he assumed she was simply caught between the emotions attached to her, Rich and Vanessa. Then there was the fact she still had a lot to learn about Domingo. She must've been thinkin' about all of this shit before I came home.

  In spite of his interest in Candy's thoughts, Domingo had more pressing issues to deal with. He remembered shooting, but not the details. The haze of gunfire had made everything a blur. Domingo was unsure who had gotten shot.

  If Tahiem survived, Domingo knew he and his brother would seek revenge. If he died, Jahiem would dedicate his life to tracking down Domingo.

  Domingo assumed Vanessa was dead. There was no way the Twins would let her walk out of that building alive. But the problem was who was on the other end of her phone when hot lead took her life? Was her camera on? Was there a video of Domingo participating in a kidnapping and the shootout that caused one or more deaths?

  It was ironic because the situation was rooted in a videotape of Candy and Vanessa having sex years ago. If Vanessa was videotaping her kidnapping and the shootout, Domingo was done if that tape landed in the hands of police. He had seen plenty of crimes caught on camera and shown repeatedly on the nightly news followed by reporters asking people with information to call the police. There would be no fair trial by a jury of Domingo's peers. Every potential juror in New York City with a television would have the image of a gun-toting Domingo in their minds long before they saw him in a courtroom. No words he could utter and no strategy his attorney could concoct would outweigh the footage of Domingo firing his gun.

  I gotta get at these dudes. After he showered he decided to head out to Red Hook in search of the Twins. He would first call Chanel to see if he could sense anything in the air about the shootout.

  He went into his bedroom after drying off. As soon as he closed the door, the sound of Uncle Murder's “Warning” chimed from Domingo's iPhone. He silenced the ringtone and answered the call.

  “They lookin' for you? Where you at, Domingo? What you did? I'm worried.”

  Domingo peeked out his window. “Calm down, Chanel. Slowly. What you talkin' bout?”

  “These crazy ass Twins. I just left Vera’s crib and they came through mad as hell, lookin' for you. They vexed.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “They was trying to act like it wasn't nothin', but I overheard them in the room tellin' Vera they gonna murder you.”

  Domingo began pacing. “What else?”

  “What else?” Chanel asked rhetorically. “Killin' you ain't enough?”

  “Me and death got a while before we meet, so that's the least of my worries.”

  “I don't know what you did and who you think you fuckin' with, but these motherfuckers ain't playin'. You know how Jahiem and Tahiem is.”

  “Where they go?”

  “What the hell I look like, GPS? I don't know?”

  “I'm a call you later,”

  “That's it?”

  “I'm gon' be all right, ya heard? Just be easy and I'm a holler at you later.”

  “Be careful,” Chanel said, then hung up.

  Domingo dropped his phone on the bed and peered out of the window, making certain there was nothing out of the ordinary. He knew he was growing paranoid. But Domingo had miraculously escaped being killed by Tahiem and he was willing to do whatever it took to continue to avoid being struck down by a bullet.

  Domingo got dressed and walked into the kitchen, following the scent of Candy's fried pastrami. After she prepared him a sandwich, he said, “Good lookin'. I gotta be out.”

  Candy was stiff as Domingo kissed her. She grabbed his hand as he turned to walk off.

  “What up?” he asked.

  “Be safe.” She pecked him on the lips.

  Domingo watched her face drift away as he walked off. He wondered what was on her mind, but he didn't have time to pry it out of her. She acting all weird again, but I'll get at her later about that.

  Domingo left his house, sped around the corner to his Expedition and pulled off. He weaved through traffic until he was in Red Hook. He rode past the building where the Twins lived, seeing no sign of them. After rounding the block several times and steering throughout the projects, Domingo gave up on finding the Twins at that moment.

  He looked at his watch. It was just past midnight, a few hours since the shootout.

  Domingo phoned Chanel.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “What's up?”

  “That's what I'm tryin' to figure out.”

  “You sound good, so I assume you didn't cross paths with the Twins.”

  “So you ain't hear nothin' else?”

  “Vera actin' funny, so I left and went home.”

  “What's funny?”

  “Like she hidin' somethin', but she wanted to let it out.”

  “And this is after you heard the Twins talking about me to her?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What about Meisha and Mimi? You seen them?”

  “Left them at Vera crib.”

  “Nothin’ unusual about them?”

  “Nah.”

  “All right,” Domingo said.

  “I wanna see you.”

  “Tomorrow. Gotta take care of some business right now.”

  “Call me.”

  “Tomorrow.” Domingo hung up. He rode into Queens, destined for his home. It was late, so he planned to get some rest and regroup. He needed to develop a clear course of action to handle the Twins. And he needed to find out exactly what happened to Vanessa and her smartphone. The sooner he found answers to those questions, the sooner he could handle the Twins.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  RICH

  When Domingo walked through the front door of his home, a .50-caliber Desert Eagle crashed his temple. He fell to the floor. As he looked up and tried to reach for his gun, Rich said, “Pull it out slow and drop it on the floor.”

  Domingo looked at the huge handgun in Rich's hand and did as he was told.

  “Get the fuck on the couch,” Rich barked. As Domingo sat on the couch, Rich picked up his gun and tucked it inside his waistband.

  “What you do to Candy?”

  As Domingo's question left his mouth, Candy walked slowly into the living room.

/>   “Oh, hell no.” Domingo's head dropped momentarily. Then he looked up at Candy. She could hardly look him in the eyes as she stood next to Rich. “This is how it's goin' down, Mamita?”

  Candy managed to look directly into Domingo's eyes. “Why?”

  He scowled. “Why? I'm supposed to be asking that.”