Pretty Kings II

by T. Styles

  “What did he say?”

  “Race, please don’t do this.”

  I turned around to walk back in the house. If she wasn’t going to answer my question I was done talking to her. I was already annoyed.

  “He wanted to check on me,” she said as my hand touched the cold doorknob to go back inside. “He said somebody tried to kill you all and he wanted to make sure that everybody he cared about was safe. So he reached out.”

  I turned around and looked at her again. “What else did he say?”

  “That he missed me.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I said that I was fine. I asked how you were doing and if you asked about me. He told me no and that your mind was made up about the relationship being over.” A tear rolled down her cheek. She stepped closer to me and this time I didn’t move away. “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?”

  “Is it true that you don’t think about me?”

  I walked up to her and wiped her hair behind her ear. “Of course I think about you, Carey. A lot. But I made a commitment with my husband to make things work.”

  “But he wants me in your life. Can’t you see?”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “No, but I can feel it. Why else would he call and check on me?”

  I was frustrated with this shit. Suddenly I didn’t feel like dealing with it anymore. “Carey, right now is not a good time. For either of us. We just lost Jasmine and it’s important that we focus on the foundation. Anything else is a distraction.”

  She wiped some tears away. “I understand and I’m truly sorry for your loss. But you should know that I’m not walking away easily, Race. I love you too much.”

  “You don’t love me,” I responded.

  “Yes I do,” she said crying harder. “I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

  “You don’t love me; you love what I can buy for you.”

  She wiped her tears. “That hurts.”’

  “It may hurt but it’s true. We’ve been taking care of you for years. How do I know that you not here because you need the money?”

  “I got money. Enough to make me good for the next three years anyway.”

  There was a small twinge of jealousy in my stomach. Carey wasn’t a working type of girl. So if she had money it was probably from another sponsor.

  “Where did you get it from?”

  “I started working back at the strip club. I didn’t want to but I needed to make sure I was okay since y’all cut me off. And I’m not about tapping into my savings. You know how I am,” she smiled although her eyes were sad. “I’m always thinking about the future.”

  “Carey, I got a lot of shit on my mind right now. The last thing I need is games. If Ramirez told you that I’m not feeling the scenario anymore then what the fuck do you want?”

  She sighed. “To tell you that I’m pregnant…with Ramirez’s baby.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  DENIM

  I sat on the cold floor of an empty bathtub inside of a hotel room. I drained it minutes earlier to refill but I was too weak to turn the faucet back on. My heart hurt too much.

  Two nights ago I left my family and the cottage like a thief in the night. I knew I wasn’t supposed to leave because things were dangerous but I needed to get away from everybody. I needed some rest and I couldn’t do it at home. Every five minutes I had somebody opening my bedroom door and checking my pulse to see if I died yet. It got so bad that I even put Bradley out of our bedroom just so I could be alone.

  I don’t know what was more annoying, the fact that when my daughter first died I wanted to take my own life and couldn’t or the fact that they wouldn’t let me be.

  After the tub started to feel like ice on my ass I rose up a little and turned the faucet on. Immediately the warm water flowing out of the faucet comforted me. I can’t believe I lost my baby. What’s a mother without her child? I forgot about my life without her in it so I didn’t know who I was anymore. The only thing on my mind was Jasmine and Bradley and now all that had changed.

  When the phone rang I looked down at it on the bathroom floor. I turned the water off and a few splashes touched the phone’s screen. It was my husband. He called me a total of 152 times since I left home even though I never picked it up.

  When he stopped calling I decided to hear one of the twenty something voice messages he left. But first I had to get past all of the messages my sisters-in-law left. I just erased them until I heard Bradley’s voice.

  1st Message: Baby, where are you? Why would you leave me like this? Call me.

  2nd Message: Denim, I’m your husband and I need to know where you are!

  3rd Message: Why are you doing this to me? You not the only one who lost a child. I’m grieving too.

  4th Message: You won’t be satisfied until a nigga goes mental. Is that what you want? Baby, please don’t do this shit. I need you to call me and tell me where you are. Just tell me you’re okay.

  5th Message: In case you want to know, I’m drunk. I can’t even eat because I’m losing my mind. Please come home to me, Denim. I’m dying over here.

  I knew he would be sad that I was gone but the pain in his voice made me sick to my stomach. I decided to speak to him and tell him why I left. It wasn’t until that exact moment that I realized the level of pain he would experience in my absence. What was I thinking?

  I was about to call him when the phone rang. I reached down and picked it up, hoping that it wouldn’t fall in the bathtub.

  “Bradley, I’m so sorry, baby,” I said without saying hello. “I just needed to get away.”

  “This is not Bradley,” my mother said with an attitude. “This is your fucking mother. Or have you forgotten already!”

  “I’m busy,” I sighed.

  “Fuck you being busy. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? Any idea at all? My life is ruined and all you can do is sit selfishly in your new mansion somewhere and not answer the phone. What about me? What about your sister? We lost someone too.”

  I looked at the phone and put it back to my ear. The rage I felt from losing my only child was multiplied the moment I heard my mother’s irritating voice. But now she took it to a whole ‘nother level. She was actually coming at me like I did something wrong. Or better yet, like she had a right to come to me about anything in the first place. All she ever did was ignore Jasmine when she was around her. She never loved her!

  “Ma, what are you talking about?” I asked calmly although I was breathing heavily.

  “I’m talking about the fact that you left my baby in that house and she burned to death. You got out safely! Why didn’t you take her? I’m talking about the fact that it is because of you that I no longer have a grandchild. I’m talking about the pain I feel right now. You are as selfish as they come, Denim Kennedy. Plain old selfish!”

  I gripped the phone so tightly I could hear the screen begin to crack.

  “Listen you miserable old bitch! I have done everything for you! Everything you’ve ever asked of me. I have washed your body when you were too fat to do it yourself. I paid your mortgage when you were too lazy to get a job. I gave you money when the men you fucked didn’t care enough to give you a penny, and through it all you treated me like shit. You can’t even give me the common courtesy to be there for me when I lost my only child.”

  “I’m hurting too—”

  “I’m not done, bitch,” I yelled louder.

  My heavy breaths made me feel as if I were about to pass out. But I was so angry that I had to get everything I wanted to say out of my system first.

  “Hear me and hear me good. You are dead to me. And if I ever see you or Grainger again you better pray to God I don’t pull my gun on you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  BRADLEY

  Bradley took a moment to sit in his car before he got out and knocked on Grainger’s door. He needed God’s strength to deal with what he was about to do.

  Altho
ugh he made his money in the streets, Bradley was a God fearing man. He always knew he would have to pay for his crimes against humanity since he sold drugs and he thought he’d paid his fee when God saw fit to take his baby girl. But now he had to deal with the loss of his wife too. Bradley Kennedy was strong but he couldn’t see God putting him through that much pain. Not in one year. It would be too much.

  He gripped the steering wheel inside of his car and closed his eyes.

  “God, I know you don’t recognize me. Why should you? I haven’t done anything deserving of your love or your attention. But I’m begging you to bring me back my wife. I can’t make it without her, God. If you bring her back safely I will give you anything I have, including my life.”

  When he was done he raised his head and looked out ahead of him. He took the keys from his car, got out and locked it with the alarm. He walked up the block leading to Sarah’s house. He walked up to the door and knocked firmly. The first person he saw made him want to throw up.

  A smile spread across Grainger’s face and she placed one hand on her hip while she held open the door. “Bradley?”

  He didn’t smile. Instead he got straight to the point of his visit. “Is my wife here?”

  Grainger’s smile faded. “No hello or nothing, huh?”

  “I’m not here for all that. I’m here for Mrs. Bradley Kennedy. Is she here or not?”

  Grainger opened the door wider. “Come inside.”

  Bradley took that as a yes and stepped into the house. It was much cleaner than it was the last time he’d been there. Just being back in the place, which almost cost him his freedom, had him wanting to kill Grainger all over again. To that day he didn’t know what made Grainger change her mind about testifying against him in court but he was silently grateful. He had a feeling it was all Denim and he wanted to repay the favor by being there in her time of need. But where was she?

  “Have a seat,” Grainger said sauntering in front of him.

  He remained standing. “Where’s my wife?”

  “If you’re going to be rude you can get the fuck out of my house,” she informed him. “Now have a fucking seat before I throw your pitiful ass out.”

  Bradley flopped down and looked up at her. “Where’s Denim?”

  She sat next to him. “She’s with my mother but she’ll be back soon.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “About fifteen minutes to be exact.”

  “Are you sure? ‘Cause I’m not playing no fucking games with you.”

  “I’m not playing no games with you either, Bradley. You aren’t my problem anymore. You’re my sister’s. What I got to lie for?”

  Bradley held his head down. He felt like half a man. Just a shell of himself. He wanted his family back so badly he could taste it. So he was reduced to sitting in the home of the one person on planet Earth that he couldn’t stand.

  “Are you hungry?”

  He hadn’t eaten since Denim went missing. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Do you want anything to drink?”

  His jaw twitched. He couldn’t stand that bitch. “No. I’m fine.”

  She got up and walked into the bedroom. She returned with a silver tray, a full bag of weed and some cigar paper. She sat next to him on the sofa and created a fat blunt. When it was complete she grabbed a match, lit it and inhaled. She held it in her lungs for a moment before releasing a pillow of white smoke over her head.

  Bradley didn’t want food or drink but he could’ve used a pull to release some of his troubles. Him and Denim stayed getting high. It was their pastime. So he looked over at Grainger and wondered if she would be generous with her smoke like she was with offering him a drink. But Grainger didn’t offer him any. Instead she eyed him and finished the entire blunt by herself. By this time the sweet aroma of the smoke had his dick stiffening.

  Grainger rolled another blunt. When she was done she lit it, took a pull and said, “You want some?” She blew the smoke into his face.

  Instead of answering right away he looked into her eyes. He couldn’t believe that at one point he was in a relationship with her. Bradley knew she couldn’t be trusted but he needed a release while he waited on the return of his wife. And if he was high he believed he would be able to deal with things better.

  “Yeah aight,” he said snatching it out of her hand.

  He took pull after pull until he was so relaxed he couldn’t see straight. Shit was cool until thoughts of his baby girl entered his mind. During this time he allowed tears to roll from his eyes freely. But Grainger, always the snake, rolled another blunt to get his mind off of his family and back on her. For the moment she wanted to be his everything.

  At the end of the night they smoked twelve blunts between them. Before long Bradley’s’ eyes were lowered and he stopped asking for Denim.

  When he woke up the next morning he was lying on a bed he didn’t recognize. He rolled over toward the window, which allowed the sun to beam onto his face. Although the rays were warm they were also so bright they caused the headache he was experiencing to flare up. The light was so strong he actually thought every horrible thing that happened to him was a dream. His daughter hadn’t died and his wife hadn’t left him. Boy was he wrong.

  He was quickly brought to reality when three cops burst into the room with guns pointing at him. Grainger was in the middle of them pointing in his direction.

  “That’s him right there. He’s the one who raped me!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  SCARLETT

  I had a lot on my mind. Between Denim disappearing and this baby crying all hours of the night, I was starting to believe that I was in over my head. Add to that the fact that Camp had checked out on this marriage leaving me to handle things alone.

  “I’m sick of this shit, Camp,” I yelled at my husband while I chased him around our bedroom. “You can’t keep moving around like you don’t have a family. This isn’t fair to me or your baby.”

  “Scarlett, relax,” he said putting his watch on. “I’m only stepping out for a few minutes. I need a break. I’m human you know.”

  “You’re not the only one needing a break. And you say that shit all the time. I’m your wife and Master is your son and we both need you here.”

  “You need to calm down before you wake the baby.”

  “The baby is not in our room. Race has him so that I could talk to you in private.”

  “But he’s in the house. You think just ‘cause he’s a baby he won’t know what’s happening between us? This spot is not as big as the other place. Now fall back before I say something I won’t be able to take back.” He finished putting his watch on.

  “Camp, I need your help. I need your love around here. I’m trying to do right by you but now I feel that you aren’t doing the same for me.”

  “Keep it real, Scarlett. What you need is to control me and I’m sick of that shit. Every time I turn around you crying about this and you crying about that. I’m a man not some fucking play toy.” He grabbed his jacket. “You know what? I’m starting to believe it was a bad idea to work shit out with you.”

  I plopped on the bed and looked over at him. “If you didn’t want me, why did you take me back?”

  He turned around and looked at me. He leaned up against the dresser. “I’m not happy.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that I thought I wanted this marriage but now I’m starting to think we moved too fast. I got caught up when I saw my son and I made a decision I shouldn’t have.”

  “What does that mean?” I yelled louder.

  “It means that when this shit blows over we have to rethink what we’re doing together. So that we can be better parents.”

  “In other words you don’t want to be married to me anymore. Right?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Camp, I’m begging you not to do this to me. Please. I know we have our problems and I know I’m not the best wife but I can’t take this anymore, the flip flopping and the game pla
y. You can’t keep messing with my heart and then think I’m going to take it. You don’t do people you say you love like that.”

  “You see how I asked that we deal with this later? And you see how you won’t let me? Now shit is taken to the next level. All I’m saying is that I need time to think things through. Give a nigga a break.”

  “You think Ngozi burned the house down and killed your niece, don’t you? You blame me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  He may not have said it but I saw it in his eyes. He blamed me for everything as usual.

  “I hate you so much,” I yelled.

  “Fuck out of here with that temper tantrum shit,” he responded. “I’m not feeling it anymore.”

  He turned around toward the dresser. The moment his eyes were off me I ran up to him. It was like I was drawn to him like a magnet. With my fists clenched I beat him in the middle of his back and head. Because I wasn’t seeing blood I moved to the sides of his face. My mission was to tear into his flesh.

  I could tell he was trying to defend himself by holding my arms but he wasn’t as quick as me. I’d done this before and I always won.

  And that’s when he did something he’d never done before. He struck me so hard in the face I dropped down. For some reason I loved it. Because it meant he still cared.

  “I told you not to put your hands on me again, bitch, but you didn’t listen,” he said looking down at me.

  “Fuck you,” I yelled with hot tears rolling down my face. “I fucking hate you!”

  “I don’t give a fuck. I hate you too, slut,” he screamed. “And it’s over!”

  “My brother was right. I should’ve never married a nigger.”

  The moment the words flew out of my mouth I wanted to take them back. I thought about my baby. My black son. I thought about the look in Camp’s eyes as the words left my mouth. It’s amazing how much you love someone and how deep you can reach when you’re trying to cause them pain.