Afterburn: a novel

by Zane

  “You’re lucky that Gideon bastard didn’t rape your ass and leave you somewhere in a ditch,” Chance said, reprimanding me. “Jaguar, my ass.”

  “Chance, I’d rather forget about that entire thing.”

  “Shit, even the Yugo wasn’t his. That whore of his called you the next day and said it was hers.”

  “Chance, I don’t need you to remind me of what happened.”

  Some sister named Wanda, the true owner of the lovely ride, discovered my number on a napkin the morning after when she retrieved her car from the impound lot where it had been towed. She went on and on about how Gideon was a con artist and how he had warrants out on him and that was why he didn’t want to give his real name. I wanted to ask her if she knew all that already, why was she allowing him to use her car. I didn’t want any more drama so I simply thanked her for the information and hung up.

  Gideon tried calling me collect from jail several times. I was at the phone company to have my number changed when they opened Monday morning.

  “You know who you need to be going after.”

  “Who?”

  “That fine ass man from the bank.”

  I started blushing. If only. “Chance, I keep telling you that any man that damn fine is taken.”

  Chance shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe Yardley’s taken. Maybe he’s not.”

  “Yardley?” Was that his name?

  “Yes, Yardley. I walked right up to him the other day while you were in the bathroom and asked his name.”

  “Girl, no!” I squealed, wondering what else was said.

  “Yes, I did. His name’s Yardley Brown and he’s a chiropractor.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” Chance replied, smacking her gums. “I don’t know if he’s hooked up with someone, but he’s definitely not married.”

  “You asked him?”

  “Damn sure did.”

  “Did he think you were trying to pick him up?”

  “I doubt it. He giggled and shit like he thought it was funny. He asked me if I needed anything else and I said no. That was it.”

  “I can’t freakin’ believe you, Chance.”

  “Believe it. Also, believe this. If you don’t make a move on that man soon, I’m going to do it for you.”

  “I can’t, Chance.”

  “You better. You’ve been forewarned.”

  I couldn’t take another bite of my food. I was too excited. Yardley Brown. What a nice name.

  Fourteen

  Yardley

  Super Bowl Sunday. All my boys were in the hizzzhouse! I had fools up in my penthouse I hadn’t seen since we were all sporting hi-top fades like Kid and Play. Jackson, an old buddy from high school and deli manager at a local Giant, had hooked me up with some discounted platters of buffalo wings, vegetables, shrimp cocktail, and finger sandwiches shaped like little footballs.

  Gina was in town, of course, sitting all up under Roxie as usual like she was feeding off her breasts. At least Gina did help cook. Roxie, who normally couldn’t fry an egg—except possibly from the flames shooting out her pussy—actually broke out a recipe book and made some deviled eggs and potato salad. Damn shame she needed a book for that, but I wasn’t complaining.

  My Redskins were playing the Cowboys that day. I had more than five hundred bucks spread all over town in bets that they’d win by at least a dozen points. So what if the Cowboys had beaten the Skins twelve out of the last thirteen times they’d played. It was time for revenge and I didn’t plan to miss a second of it.

  Roxie had her Usher CD streaming through the sound system in the walls. It was annoying me—the CD itself was slamming but that day was all about football—but it was no more annoying than the loud ass chatter going on. There had to be at least forty people up in my place, but that was the way I’d envisioned it. Food, beer, football, a winning combination.

  Some of my buddies had fine ass women with them, some of them had hood rats, and some showed up solo. It was all good. Felix shocked everyone by showing up alone. That was definitely a first. I teased him about it when I opened the door.

  “Couldn’t find a date?” I teased.

  Felix pushed past me and into the foyer. “Man, please! I can get any woman I want. I want to kick back and enjoy the game today.”

  “Yeah right, man. Whatever!” I chuckled, following him into my living room.

  Felix turned around and whispered in my ear so the others couldn’t hear him. “You know I’m always trolling for pussy. I’m about to troll for some up in here so I have something to do after the game.”

  “Good luck. Every female in here is on lockdown except for Gina. Then again, since she’s a troll she might be the one for you. Oh, I forgot, she did turn you down. There goes your ‘I can get any woman I want’ theory.”

  Felix fell out laughing. “Puddy is puddy, Yardley. Even troll pussy. One day you’ll grow up, son, and recognize that. If I really wanted Gina, she’d be riding me like it’s going out of style by the end of the night. She’s not my type.”

  “Like I said, whatever, man!”

  By halftime, the Redskins were up by ten points and I was in heaven. I’d managed to drown everyone and everything out except for my sixty-inch high-definition television.

  “Yardley, telephone.” Gina tapped me on the shoulder and then handed me the cordless. If it wasn’t halftime, I wouldn’t have even taken the call.

  “This is Yardley.”

  “Yardley, you throw one hell of a football party, man!” a voice screamed into my ear.

  It was my boy, Kurt. A friend from undergrad at Howard.

  “Hey, and you know this, man! Only thing we need here now is you. What’s taking you so long?”

  “I’m stuck in traffic, bro. I’m a few blocks away; enjoying the view at the moment.”

  “Forget a view. Come check out the game. We have a ton of food and all the beer you can drink.” I wanted Kurt to hurry his ass up so I decided to embellish the truth somewhat. “Lots of fine honies up in here, too.”

  “I can see that.” He chuckled into the phone. “Why didn’t you tell me you were throwing a freakfest? I would’ve brought a little sumptin’ sumptin’ with a tight ass along with me.”

  He’d completely lost me. How could he possibly know what kind of women were lounging around my crib when he’d yet to step over the threshold?

  “Kurt, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the serious sex action taking place on your balcony, bro.” Kurt started panting in the phone. If I didn’t know better, he sounded like he was whacking off in his car. “Damnnnnnnnnnnnnn, he’s tearing that pussy up! Is that Felix?”

  I scanned my place and didn’t see Felix anywhere. He’d been profiling on my leather sectional less than ten minutes earlier. I got up and started for the balcony, throwing the phone on the ottoman and leaving Kurt hanging on the other end.

  “Yardley, you got any more chips?” Mike asked as I walked past him.

  “Yeah, there’s some in the kitchen.”

  I did a head count of the women on my way to the sliding glass doors. All ladies were present and accounted for except for one; my own.

  I stepped out on the balcony and braced myself before I looked to the right. I gave a sigh of relief when no one was there. Kurt was trying to fuck with my mind. I was about to break out in laughter and then I heard the moans. I turned around.

  “What the fuck is this?” I roared, seeing nothing but Felix’s ass muscles flexing as he worked his dick in and out of Roxie. “Roxie?”

  Felix had been holding Roxie up spread eagle against the adobe brick but let her fall. She managed to prevent herself from toppling and pulled the bottom of her dress down. Her panties were flung over the railing. I was sick to my stomach.

  “Yardley, I can explain, man.” Felix walked over to me and tried to lay his hand on my shoulder. I stepped back away from him. “We didn’t mean for this to happen. Not at all.”

 
“You say that shit now, Felix,” Roxie hissed, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. She was actually enjoying being caught. What a tramp! “You’ve been after me for months. For that matter, you’ve been trying to fuck me since high school. Don’t front.”

  Jackson poked his head around the corner. “Shit, Felix and Roxie out here fucking! You gotta come peep this!”

  “Oh, shit!” I heard someone exclaim.

  “Let me see!” someone else hollered out.

  “Move so I can look!” yet another voice blurted out.

  Within seconds, my balcony was packed like a school parking lot during a fire drill.

  “Felix, you low-down piece of shit!” Mike yelled.

  I didn’t have shit to say. I wanted to be alone.

  “Excuse me.” I pushed my way through the crowd, seeking refuge in my bedroom. “Can I get through please? This is my fucking place.”

  “Yardley, come here, baby!” Roxie called out after me. She caught up to me and tugged at the back of my shirt.

  “Stay the hell away from me, Roxie,” I said, pulling myself free from her grasp. “I can’t deal with this now!”

  I went into my bedroom, slammed and locked the door.

  “Yardley! Yardley, open the door, bro!” Felix demanded, banging on the cedar.

  I punched the door and then sat on the bed, my hands still balled into tight fists. “Everyone get the fuck out!” I screamed out.

  “You heard the man!” The militant side of Dwayne came out. He bellowed at people like he was playing the lieutenant in a military flick. “Everyone get to stepping! Roxie, that means your skank ass, too! Make some fuckin’ tracks and don’t fuckin’ look back!”

  “Dwayne, you can’t talk to me like that!” I heard Roxie complain.

  “I just did! Party’s over! Grab a sandwich and a beer and take them with you!”

  I could hear people being shuffled away from my bedroom door and over the next few minutes, the noise and chatter tapered off. I stuck my head out the door and didn’t see anyone but Mike and Dwayne. Both Felix and Roxie were gone. Then Kurt showed up, a day late and a dollar short.

  “Hey, Kurt! Bye, Kurt!” Mike said.

  “Damn, what happened? Was that Felix and Yardley’s girl out there?” Kurt asked in wonderment.

  “Hell yeah, it was!” Dwayne exclaimed.

  “Shit!”

  “Party’s over, Kurt.” Mike pushed Kurt gently toward the door.

  “What about the game?” Kurt asked, still expecting to chill out and get his eat and drink on.

  “Fuck the game! Go watch it at a bar or something!” Mike slammed the door in Kurt’s face.

  I remained in my room for the rest of the game. Mike and Dwayne were so-called whispering, but I only missed about two words. An expensive penthouse and thin ass walls.

  “Yardley, you want me to stay? I could spend the night,” Mike finally offered through the door.

  “No, I want to be alone.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Aiight, man. Peace out.”

  “Peace out.”

  They let themselves out and I stared up at the ceiling. I was pissed at Roxie. No damn doubt about that. Felix had genuinely hurt me, though, and it wasn’t the first time. First he’d spread my business in the streets about Sheila and now this. What the fuck was up with him?

  My mind drifted to her again. Rayne Waters. Her friend, Chance, had approached me in the bank the week before and played twenty questions. I was overwhelmed because I could tell she was on a fact-finding mission for her fine ass friend. I didn’t pursue the possibilities. I had Roxie to think about and I’d already betrayed Roxie once in high school with a hooker named Angel. No way was I going to intentionally hurt her again. Instead, she’d hurt me. She’d fucked my best friend during a social gathering at my home. No, Roxie had to go. Her ass was grass.

  I called information and got Rayne’s number. Since she worked downtown, I took a chance that she lived in D.C. and not in the suburbs. The commute would’ve been insane, even though hundreds of thousands of people did it daily. There was only one Rayne Waters listed, which came as no surprise since her name was so unusual.

  I picked up the phone no less than five times before I finally worked up the nerve to punch in her number. Just my luck, I got her machine.

  “Hello. You’ve reached Rayne. I’m not in right now. I’m at the ESPN Zone watching America’s Team kick some Redskin be-hind. If you’re a Cowboys fan, you’re welcome to leave a message. If you’re not, then I guess this simply isn’t your day. Later.”

  I had no idea what to say. Her voice was so damn sexy. The first time I’d actually heard it. I hung up a few seconds after the beat. That was all wrong. Leaving a message on her home phone when we’d never held any form of conversation at the bank was inappropriate. I didn’t want her to think I was a stalker. I didn’t know a damn thing about the sister except she was fine, but I knew I wanted her to be a part of my life. I’d wanted that for a long time and now that it appeared she was available also, nothing and no one was going to stand in my way. However, if she and I were going to become an item, she’d have to give up the damn Cowboys and convert to a Redskin.

  Fifteen

  Rayne

  Basil and I had a ball at the ESPN Zone. The plush leather seats and walls full of televisions provided the ultimate viewing experience. The Cowboys won the game 35–14 and I was floating on air as we walked around the corner of my building. I was damn near skipping down the street.

  After much discussion, Basil and I had mutually decided that it was in our best interest to remain friends. We’d hung out a few more times since his accident and he was a really cool individual. His only drawback being that he wanted to remain a virgin until he was married. I truly admired that and I told him as much. However, I was blunt with him. I needed sexual stimulation on a regular basis and I wasn’t willing to get married sight or, in this case, dick unseen.

  Once Basil realized I wasn’t going to jump his bones, he relaxed and enjoyed our little escapades. We’d go out, he’d bring me home, stay about ten or fifteen minutes, and then break out. Since Chance was Ricky-whipped, it was good to have someone else to hop around the District with. I had a few other local girlfriends but most of them were always on a date, going away for the weekend, or busy trying to climb up the corporate ladder.

  Basil had barely left when my phone rang.

  “Hello, this is the Washington, D.C., Dallas Cowboys fan club,” I yelled into the phone. “Can I help you?”

  “Rayne? Is that you?”

  I recognized the voice immediately. Sexy, sexy.

  “Hey, Kahlil,” I said seductively, lowering my voice.

  Kahlil Peterson was my version of Mr. All That. When Chance and I had first started working at the bank, Kahlil was the head teller and our direct supervisor. A little over six feet tall, hazelnut skin, and slanted charcoal eyes. Too damn fine.

  Of course, trying to get with him was out of the question. You never shit where you eat. That didn’t stop me from fantasizing about him day and night. He was one of the funniest people I’d ever met; always greeting Chance and me in the morning with the joke of the day. Kahlil was one of those people that everyone, male and female alike, got along with.

  When he left to take a job with a competitor, I couldn’t blame him since it meant a promotion and raise; something First Community Bank had been slow to come up off of. I’d missed him terribly. To have him call me after the game of the decade only added to my great mood.

  “Rayne, I’m sorry to call you up out of the blue.”

  “Don’t mention it, Kahlil. It’s good to hear your voice.” Damn, was it! “What’s new?”

  “Not much. What about yourself? You still at First Community?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “Chance and I are both still there.”

  “Chance. How’s she doing?”

  “Great.”

  “She still h
anging with Ricky?”

  “Uh-huh, they’re still together.”

  “Cool.”

  I unlaced my FUBU sneakers and slid out of them, kicking them off in the hallway on the way to my bedroom.

  “So…” Kahlil said hesitantly. “What about you? Are you seeing someone?”

  I froze in time with one arm pulled out of my sweater and the zipper on my jeans halfway down. Kahlil was inquiring about my status. Go Rayne! It’s your birthday! It’s your birthday! It’s your birthday!

  I cleared my throat to prevent myself from sounding too anxious. “No, I’m not seeing anyone,” I replied casually. “I was seeing someone a while ago, but things didn’t pan out.”

  “His name was Will, right?”

  I almost bit my tongue. “Yes, that was his name all right.”

  “Well, his loss, my gain.”

  “Is that right?” I giggled.

  “Rayne, I know this is going to sound insane but I wanted to ask you to attend a dinner at my parents’ house next weekend.”

  I was stunned. “Kahlil, can you hold on a second?”

  “Sure?”

  I tossed the cordless on my bedspread and finished taking off my sweater and jeans. I pulled down the covers and climbed onto the cold sheets, hoping they’d warm up with a quickness.

  “I’m back,” I said.

  “Good. I was beginning to think I’d scared you off.”

  I laughed. “I was getting undressed and into bed. I just got in from the game.”

  “Oh, you went to a bar?”

  “The ESPN Zone. Been there?”

  “No, but I’ve been wanting to check it out.”

  “You definitely should.” There was a brief silence. “If you want, we could check it out together.”

  “Sounds good.” I could hear a door slamming somewhere in the background. “What about dinner?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Kahlil. I’d love to spend some time with you and get to know you better. I was craving to do that the entire time we worked together. I think you knew that, didn’t you?”