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Power

Page 8

by Kenya Wright


  “What?”

  “Lots of Butterfly’s girls are out here.”

  “Hookers at a boy’s birthday party?”

  “Yeah. Of course, they’re not strapped, just sitting around and chilling.”

  “You know how women are. They’re probably being nosy and reporting everything back to Butterfly.”

  “Brothels been losing business since our men have been dying in them.” 305 switched the chew stick to the other side of his mouth. “Anyway, do you have a particular way you want me to get rid of Rasheed’s men?”

  “Ask nicely, first. They just lost Rasheed. They’re definitely feeling some sort of way. Let them know that I’m handling it.”

  “And if they’re not satisfied.”

  “Then do what you have to do.”

  305 nodded and left.

  I signaled for Mary Jane to come my way and held her hand. Her soft fingers wrapped around mine. “You’re safe. Do you believe me?”

  Her voice came out shaky. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  She scanned the whole area, taking in the men in the front yard and the twenty guys that I’d brought. A few of Butterfly’s women strolled around on the side and glanced at us.

  Mary Jane let out a long breath. “I believe you, because there’s a lot of big, bad guys all over this place, but every one of them is scared to even look your way. Especially those guys in front of the house. The one by the door looks like he’s having a seizure or something.”

  I checked the man she was talking about. His head bobbed in an erratic way. He kept murmuring something to himself and keeping his hand inside his jacket.

  She stared at me. “How bad are you, Noah?”

  Unease sat in my gut. “Why?”

  “I just want to know what I’m dealing with.”

  I guided her forward. “You’re not ready for that answer yet.”

  Chapter 7

  Mary Jane

  An intellectual, falling sick, had promised to pay the doctor if he recovered.

  When his wife nagged at him for drinking wine, while he had a fever, he said: "Do you want me to get healthy and be forced to pay the doctor?"

  –Philogelos (The Laughter Lover)

  How did I get here? This morning, I was a college student daydreaming about performing punch lines on stage. Tonight, I’m walking arm-in-arm with a gangster I would’ve never met if not for my own dumb ass going to the wrong place. And earlier, I’d just popped out my tits for him and had been damned near close to sucking his cock.

  I’d actually been too damned close to sucking him off. That mushroomed tip bulged—all raw and big like some satanic sex god. As if power surged through the thick stalk and his sperm spurt more powerful liquid than the fountain of youth.

  His cock had all of my attention in that limo. As soon as he took it out, I could no longer think. The fact that he’d jumped on top of me like a lunatic, hadn’t taken away its thunder. The fact that he’d poked the front of me with his meaty sword, made me yearn for him to poke other places. The fact that he’d begged, made me moan. The fact that he couldn’t keep control of himself and dove into my breasts, had me wet and hungry for more.

  The fact that. . .fuck it. I wanted him badly.

  Noah nudged me. “Now, you’re squinting. What are you thinking about?”

  I blushed. “Nothing.”

  As if he had some good guesses, he bit his bottom lip and led us up the porch. Crusher walked on our left. The big hat remained on his head. On my right, Fuji strolled with the present. I didn’t think he was pissed with me. As soon as our gazes met, the big guy nodded and tossed me a smile saying he understood.

  Still, I couldn’t believe I’d gotten here.

  The men on the porch looked like they were going to stop us from entering the house. The few women around exchanged glances with each other and then gazed at Noah. Gone was the satanic sex god from the limo. Now, Noah wore a mask made of stone. All the men stepped aside with each glance of his face. One even opened the door for us to walk in. All of us—Noah, Crusher, Fuji, and me and also the twenty gun-toting men marching behind us.

  Noah’s the main guy. The top one. I thought he led some guys, but not all of them. How powerful is he? How dangerous?

  As soon as we stepped inside, I felt like I’d taken a drug to the veins. Frightening music greeted my ears.

  A man sang in a dark voice. “Jesus, the lamb died for us all, so that we will never die.”

  I was sure the lyrics were supposed to be soothing and hopeful, but the singing terrified me.

  “Jesus died for me!” Low organ notes accompanied the singing. “Jesus died for me! Oh, thank you. He died for me!”

  Haunted, I hooked my arm around Noah’s and made sure not to lose him in the shadows.

  Inside what might’ve been a living room, brawnier men flanked the walls. These guys had guns in their hands and were probably ready to shoot any person rushing inside of the place.

  Yet, the scary men weren’t the thing that shoved me off the edge of sanity.

  The whole place resembled some mad house where an LSD addict had decorated it. The lights were off, yet a blue glow came from each corner, making all of the writings and images on the wall glimmer in fluorescent colors. Someone hand painted bright orange and yellow crosses all over the ceiling. On the largest wall an image of Jesus’ crucifixion blazed. The artist must’ve used glow-in-the-dark spray paint. Even the blood and gashes on his wrists sparked red in the darkness. Even weirder, Jesus’ face appeared much different from the ones I’d seen in churches. It was another man’s face.

  Who is that?

  Noah continued to wear his stone-cold mask. “Fuck. Now Domingo thinks he’s Jesus. He’s put his on Jesus’s body.”

  “That’s your friend on the cross?” I asked.

  “Yes, but he’s not a friend. That friendship ended a long time ago.”

  The singer shrilled even louder. “His blood ran down his arms. The pain tore him apart.”

  In what I assumed to be a living room, all the furniture had been moved. A huge sandbox was placed in the middle where young kids played, building glowing moon sand castles and drawing their names with sticks.

  “Jesus died for you! He died for me!”

  A few women sat by the younger ones, giggling like it was all normal. Some of the females spotted Noah and waved with more enthusiasm than I appreciated. Others tossed me dirty looks.

  “He died for you and me!” The singer’s voice rose even higher. “Can’t you see? He died for us.”

  I cringed.

  Yes! Yes! He died for us. We got it, buddy. Now stop sounding so creepy.

  I leaned in closer to Noah as we passed through that room and entered a hallway. With us and his men, the little passageway was pretty crowded.

  “No disrespect, but this is a weird birthday party for a kid,” I said. “I figured this would be more of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ theme. Perhaps, a guy dressed up as Sponge Bob. Maybe an annoying clown here or there. Call me crazy, but this is a bit depressing.”

  “Domingo’s a little religious.”

  “Clearly, he’s a little religious.” I took in all the scriptures written on the wall in bright red. “Yeah, but just a smidgen.”

  I checked out the words scribbled on the hall’s ceiling.

  “Even when I walk through a dark valley facing death, I will not be afraid.”

  “Wow,” I whispered. “They couldn’t have just written Happy Birthday?”

  Noah’s mask broke apart and he chuckled a little, but within seconds, the stone face returned. “No more jokes, Mary Jane.”

  “Hey buddy, I’m not performing. I’m really just making obvious observations.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Buddy?”

  “I’m sorry. What should I call you? Mr. Noah?”

  “No.” He brushed my ear with his mouth. “You can call me whatever you want as long as you’re lying in my bed.”

  “I-I won�
��t be.”

  “You won’t?” He laughed again. “I already told you. No more jokes. There are things that I have to do tonight. We have to be serious.”

  “But, I wasn’t joking.”

  “You were if you think you won’t be in my bed, tonight.”

  I shivered, feeling an odd mix of emotions. Hot lust twirled around cold fear. Although, bouncing on his cock in his big bed, I’d spotted in his bedroom, sounded like a great idea. He was a bad man. Too much for me. Too powerful and dangerous.

  While dressing in his bedroom, I’d snooped around it. All of his clothes had been perfectly folded and organized. Everything neat and clutter-free as if someone had feng shui’ed every facet of the room.

  I loved his cleanliness level. It ranked the highest sexual quality in him.

  And he calls me OCD?

  Stacks of mini notebooks sat on the desk in the corner of his room. I skimmed through some of them. They were filled with a bunch of lists. Tons of them. He must’ve written stuff down all day. There were so many, I bet he had lists for his lists.

  On his night stand, there was only one picture in an immaculate frame. It was an image of an old woman and man holding coconut drinks with a Hawaiian lei draped around their necks. He’d admitted to them being his parents.

  Other than that, there was no sign of a female in there. Not a forgotten pair of earrings or panties. Not a spot in any of the drawers. Not even a closet with a few feminine things. I bet he didn’t let woman get close to him. That fact was even worse than him being a thug. I couldn’t stand a cold lover who didn’t know how to cuddle and caress me just right.

  Fuji had said that his female guests never even slept in the room with him after they were done. Disgusting. Not me. If a man hoped to stroke my sex, he would have to be ready for the long conversations while I nestled within his arms. And he would have to enjoy those talks as much as he relished the pussy.

  No way.

  Even if Noah wasn’t a thug, I would not get into his bed. The limo ride had been a mistake that I wouldn’t make again. I had to focus on getting out of this situation in one piece. I had to focus everything on keeping my legs closed.

  We passed a brightly lit kitchen where a group of older women pulled out huge trays of food from the oven. Although some of their skin had my caramel tone, their hair told me they were probably not black. In this city, they must’ve been Puerto Rican or Dominican.

  One of the older women glanced our way.

  “No!” She rushed toward Noah. “Not here! Not here!”

  Soon a fast line of Spanish spit out of her lips. Crusher stepped between them and blocked her from moving further.

  “No, Crusher. Let me handle this.” Noah walked around Crusher and embraced the angry, old woman. She beat at his chest and shook her head, slinging more Spanish his way. Still, Noah embraced her and took the attack.

  “No!” She yelled again, gave up hitting him, and hugged him back.

  “I won’t, Mrs. Santiago,” he said. “I won’t.”

  “Not here!”

  He held her some more and patted her back. “I know. Not here. I came to give Junior his present and talk to Domingo really quick, and then, I will leave.”

  “Talk?!” She spat on the ground and got out of his arms. “You don’t talk!”

  Letting her go, he raised his hands. “Just talk. Nothing else.”

  Tears spilled from her eyes.

  “I swear, Mrs. Santiago.”

  “Noah, you boys must stop this. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s making my son crazy. Have you seen this place?” She gestured around to all the scriptures, even more were scribbled on the kitchen walls. “He’s lost it. He says that he’s reborn. Jesus returning.”

  Although Noah still wore the hard mask, worry flowed in his eyes. “When did he start saying this?”

  “Last month, when those little kids were shot. Something has made him lose it. He’s done something that he can’t forgive himself for. What? The kids?” She wagged her finger at Noah. “And he said he had nothing to do with it, but I know he’s lying. You boys have to stop it. Get Rasheed. Come to my house. We all sit down and pray and get this right.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Santiago.” He grabbed my arm. “But for now, I should give this present to Junior.”

  “Not here, Noah!” she yelled again. “No violence.”

  “Not here.” He nodded.

  Kids? Rasheed going crazy? And even though the men are afraid of Noah. She wasn’t. He looked like he would’ve let her punch and slam him all night, and not do anything. At least he has rules and limits to his power.

  We continued on until we arrived at the back door. Outside tiny chandeliers swayed from trees and at the center of each one hung a large ruby cross. A big bounce house sat on the side of a pool. Kids jumped and screamed on the huge structure. Other children swam in the water, even though the evening had brought on a little chill.

  White circular tables scattered across the yard. Crowds of people sat around in chairs, laughing and talking. More armed men bordered the fences. All of their gazes monitored us. And at the center of it all, two thrones stood—a big and small one. Gold leaves adorned the tops. Purple velvet cushions propped the bottoms of a man and boy. The man looked exactly like the one in the creepy crucifixion mural in the living room. The boy looked bored as hell.

  Even creepier, the man wore a crown of thorns on his head, and his son did too. Along with matching priest outfits—black pants and shirts, including the white collar around their necks.

  Wow. There’s a punch line in this somewhere. I’m just not sure if I have time for the joke’s set-up. And then who would believe that all of this really happened?

  Turning to me, Noah sighed. “Would you like to stay with Crusher and Fuji while I give this present to him?”

  I glanced at Crusher. Even outside. Even with all of these people, the guy freaked me out.

  “No.” I stayed close to him. “If it’s okay, I would like to remain with you, as long as I’m not in the way.”

  “Don’t worry about that, sweetheart.” He slipped his hand down to my bottom and squeezed. My pussy clenched in reaction. And then he whispered, “I’m starting to love it when you get in the way.”

  I gulped.

  We walked forward. Noah’s men remained with us—Crusher with his top hat and Fuji with the huge box.

  The man with the crown of thorns rose from his chair and extended his arms. “Cain, my brother. I’m so happy that you’ve come. Someone bring chairs for Cain and his guest.”

  Why is he calling Noah by another name?

  Noah ignored the fact that he’d called him Cain. “I’m so glad to see you, Domingo. I’d been hoping to catch you sooner.”

  Men rushed over with two chairs and a tiny table that they placed between us. Noah sat down and I followed, lowering into the chair next to him. More guys moved behind the thrones and focused all of their attention on us.

  Noah turned to the poor boy with the ridiculous thorn crown. “Happy Birthday, Junior. I’ve got something for you.”

  Fuji stepped up to the boy and tried to hand him the box.

  “No.” Domingo raised his hand. “Junior will not take presents from you.”

  Fuji backed up with the box and moved behind us.

  “Bring wine!” Domingo clapped. “Bring bread! My brother, Cain, has come to see me.”

  Several guests grabbed their pocket books and plates and scurried away. Others rushed off to get their kids out of the pool and bounce houses. As soon as the kids ran to their moms, the parents dashed out of there. None of the men moved, only the women and kids.

  A curvy woman with long, curly hair speed-walked over to Domingo’s son. Without glancing Noah’s way, she grabbed the boy’s hand and rushed out of there with the rest.

  “Bye, Junior.” Noah waved at the boy.

  In between people running away for dear life, another man came over with a jug of red liquid and glasses for all of us.
A huge loaf of bread sat on a silver platter with a sharp knife and tub of butter.

  Domingo leaned toward us with no smile or humor on his face. “Why do you think they run, Cain?”

  “The same reason why you ran earlier today.” Noah picked up the knife and studied it. “They’re scared.”

  “No, brother,” Domingo said. “I’m never scared.”

  Noah looked at me. “Are you hungry?”

  I shook my head no, wishing I could run with everyone else. With most of the guests gone, Domingo and Noah’s men had stopped pretending to be normal. Everyone pulled out their pieces and pointed them at the other.

  Everyone except the two men close to me.

  Domingo directed his attention my way. “You are a beautiful woman. You look so familiar. Where are you from?”

  I checked Noah’s reaction. He glared, but said nothing.

  I cleared my throat. “I grew up in Briar Park.”

  “That’s a rough area for someone so soft to live in,” Domingo said. “I know a lot of people from there. I don’t remember you hanging around.”

  “My mom never let me play with the others. She thought they might be bad influences.”

  “She was right.” Domingo rubbed his hands together. “But how do I know you? I’ve seen you recently.”

  Noah interrupted our conversation. “Have you picked someone that’s going to take your place in the North, Domingo? Or do you want me to choose him after your death? I can do it either way.”

  Domingo’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t take his attention from me. “Are you a Christian, Miss?”

  “During Christmas time and some Easters,” I muttered.

  Domingo winked at me. “And do you know the Old Testament well?”

  Again Noah interrupted. “Spend tonight with your son. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I don’t think it would be right to have a boy’s birthday memory coincide with his father’s death. You’ll die, tomorrow.”

  Domingo rose and spread his arms. Eight red laser dots covered his forehead. My body stiffened. Noah’s men must’ve been the ones that were targeting.

  Domingo laughed. “Now Cain said to his brother Abel, ‘Let’s go out to the field.’”

 

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