RedBone 2

by T. Styles

  He was totally involved with a text on his phone and said, “Not sure. I just got here myself.” But when he finally observed her, he grinned as he scanned her from top to bottom. His eyes said it all . . . he loved what he saw. There was a quiet shyness about him that turned her on, and to her mind, he was the perfect catch.

  “Why you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “No reason,” he lied. “Anyway, usually when I come, it doesn’t take this long.” He looked over at the counter. “I think you can reschedule if you have to. They need you, not the other way around.”

  She crossed her legs. “You do this all the time? Donate blood?”

  “Whenever I can,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m doing my part by giving blood. You know?”

  She felt like she’d hit the jackpot. Finding someone who felt like he was doing something in life because he donated blood was a goldmine. “What do you mean?”

  He sat back in his plastic white seat. “My sister died when I was in the military serving in Iraq. She was in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. She lost a lot of blood, and even though it didn’t save her, I donate out of memory. What made you donate?”

  “I just love blood.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Different is good. At least that’s what I think.” She paused. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sweetheart, as sexy as you are, you can ask me anything you want. And that’s on everything.”

  Her next question was serious because if he said no, she would leave him alone and he would inevitably save his own life. “Can I make you famous?”

  He laughed heartily. “That’s an odd question. How does one make one famous?”

  She put her hand over his crotch and rubbed lightly. His eyes popped open and he hoped no one was looking. When he looked across the room, the employee who handled the paperwork was staring dead in their direction. “If you got an hour and a lunch break, I can show you exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “I think my schedule just cleared up.”

  When Farah followed him to a nice house in Virginia, she was impressed. Since it was midafternoon on a weekday, there wasn’t a car on the street. She figured most people were at work and that was even better. But when she followed him inside, she was disappointed that the decor didn’t match her first impression. There wasn’t much furniture, and it looked like someone had just moved in.

  “This your house?” she asked as she followed him.

  “No, not exactly. Well, I’m renting a room.” They walked toward the back.

  “Did you say you’re renting a room?” she asked, disgusted. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  He turned around and grinned at her. “Old enough to satisfy your every need.” He took a key out of his pocket and placed it in a gold doorknob. “Is that enough for you? Besides, you’re gonna make me famous, right?”

  Silence.

  Once inside the room, she saw how dreary it was, and she wanted to roll over and die. Everything was juvenile. There were posters all over the walls of models in swimsuits, the bed was twin-sized, and the sheets were on the floor. To make matters worse, his clothes were thrown everywhere, and it smelled like he hadn’t taken the trash out in a year.

  “Can I use your bathroom right quick?” She stepped on a plastic water bottle and it crackled under the weight of her shoe. “I want to freshen up.”

  “Uh . . . sure. It’s out there.” He removed his wallet and keys and threw them on the dresser. “But don’t keep me waiting too long. You got me ready to see how you gonna make me famous. It was the only thing I could think of on the way over here.”

  “I bet it was.” She frowned, trying not to touch anything. “Anyway, does somebody live in this house with you? It seems so empty.”

  “I have some more roommates, but they not home at this hour. Most of them go to work and college. But since I can never be sure because I don’t know they schedule, knock on the bathroom door first. I wouldn’t want you walking in on something you don’t want to see.” He laughed.

  Irritated, she plodded down the hallway and couldn’t get over the feeling of wanting to smash his face in and run. When she reached another door, she knew it was the bathroom because of the sign that read, ALL RESIDENTS, PLEASE KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING. Is this a house or group home?

  She slogged into the bathroom. Once inside, she threw cold water on her face and stared at her face in the mirror. Although her skin was clearer, it was obvious that she needed more blood, so she had to calm herself down to follow the plan. When she thought he was a sexy, shy, horny bum, it was sweet, but now she was so turned off that she contemplated leaving. She reasoned that Elizabeth Báthory would not allow a messy room to stop her from achieving her goal, and neither would she.

  She checked her purse for the meds Shadow got for her, and then after giving herself the energy she needed to go back, she walked to his room. When she opened the door, he was in the bed, toes spread, with his extra-long brown dick in his hands. Now she couldn’t wait to kill his ass.

  “Get over here. Got me waiting all day and shit.” He jerked himself so hard the muscles of his arms buckled. “I know that pussy stinks so good, don’t it, baby? I hope you ain’t wash it up too much, because I like to smell a juicy pussy.”

  “What you doing?” She frowned from the door. “When you take your clothes off so quick?”

  “The moment you left. Now stop fucking around. I’m waiting on you,” he said with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

  Farah threw her purse on the table next to the door and it landed on the floor. She started to pick it up but thought, Fuck it ... When in Rome, be as nasty as everyone else. Slowly she eased out of her clothing and stood in front of him for a minute to drive him crazy. She couldn’t lie. As much as she loved blood, there was something about tasting the goods before she killed them that just did it for her.

  “I’m trying to have a little fun with you too, but can I have something to drink first? I want to be right for you, baby. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “You want a drink right now?” he asked with an attitude. It was obvious that the only thing he wanted to do was fuck. “I was all ready to dig into them walls. I’m not even thinking about getting anything to drink.”

  “And you can have these walls, but you gotta get me something to drink first. And to be honest, it feels like you have the heat on hell in here.”

  “I hope you not fucking around with me, Farah.” He scooted out of the bed with his swollen dick pointed in her direction. “Otherwise we came here for nothing.”

  “I’m not fucking with you. At least not yet anyway.” She giggled.

  Silence.

  He stomped out of the bedroom furiously. While he was within the house, she removed a small pill from her purse. After the close call she had with the dude she killed with her shoe, she decided it was better to have her victims limp and weak than aware and strong.

  A few minutes later, he returned with two Cokes. “This all we got.” He raised them in the air. “I can give you water, but it’ll be from the faucet.”

  He handed her one and placed the other down. “No, this is fine, but can you get me a glass of ice too?” She placed her hand over the can. “This is not as cold as I like my drinks. I need some ice.”

  He sulked. “Dang, why can’t you just drink the shit? It’s cold enough. You ain’t in the gym or nothing.”

  “It may be cold enough to quench your thirst, but it ain’t doing shit for me. Please just get me some ice. When you get back, this pussy will be waiting on you; although the longer you procrastinate, the more easily I’m turned off. It ain’t nothing for me to go home and play with my own pussy instead.”

  Hearing this, he scurried to the kitchen and she plopped the pill into his soda. She shook it a few times so it would dissolve. When he returned, she poured her soda over the ice and performed like there was nothing wrong. Apparently he was extra thirs
ty, because he drank his until he swallowed the last drop. All she could do was smile, realizing that in a moment she would have what she came for.

  When he was done, he jumped in the bed and fussed with a condom on his dresser. “Now we can stop the games and get to it,” he told her, stroking his dick again. “Get over here.”

  “Whatever you want, baby.”

  Farah climbed on top of him and kissed him softly on the lips. He pulled her on top of his dick and pushed into her gushiness. When he tapped her jelly walls and could go no farther, he moved to the left and then the right. He filled her up, and her pussy syrup poured all over him.

  “Fuck this pussy, baby.” She nibbled on his ear. “Just like that. Work that shit.”

  “You like this shit, don’t you?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Tell me how much you like this dick.” He slapped her ass and spread her cheeks as he continued to plow inside of her. “Damn, you feel so good.”

  Farah continued to bash her pussy into him as he met her thrust for thrust. When she first entered his crib, she wasn’t feeling him one bit, but now that she saw how good he could fuck, she decided to enjoy herself and go with the flow. It was funny; she always knew how to pick them.

  “If I would’ve known you would’ve been this good,” he said softly, “I would’ve left with you the moment I saw you walk out of the bathroom.” He was feeling suddenly lightheaded.

  She wasn’t interested in anything he had to say anymore. She thumped her pussy against his dick five more times, and when the time was right, came all over him. Her body shivered as she gripped his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his flesh. “Mmmmmmm, that shit feels so good.”

  When he felt her gush and heard her moan, he pushed all the way into her and filled her up with nut. It was the best sex he’d had in a long time. “Damn, you felt so fucking good!” He barely had enough energy to move and figured she wore him out.

  Farah kissed him softly on the neck. “Thank you, honey. You not so bad yourself.”

  He laughed, stroking her meaty ass cheeks. “You a cool mothafucka too.”

  “What you talking about?” she asked, wiggling her waist over him again.

  “I ain’t never have no bitch ask me if they could make me famous before.” His hands slid off of her body. He was exhausted and could no longer hold them up. “What you mean by that shit?”

  She kissed him again and then she fell into his chest. “You really want to know?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. . . . What you gonna do? Tape me and sell them?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything like that, baby. I meant this.” She sliced into his jugular vein and sucked his blood. Her teeth dug into his flesh, and she tried to drink everything that pumped through his veins. He was weakened and couldn’t defend himself. Suddenly, his life flashed before his eyes.

  Before long, he wasn’t moving at all. She sucked and sucked until the roof of her mouth ached and her gut was full. There was something about the kill that made her feel invincible. She could almost feel her skin brighten up.

  Standing over him, she admired her work. In her opinion he looked much more beautiful dead. His eyes were closed, and blood rested all over his chest and neck. Who needed Slade when she was queen of her world? The way she lived life allowed her to play God. She only wished she had someone she could share her experiences with. Someone like her.

  Shadow and Mia wanted no part of her lifestyle, and she couldn’t dare tell anyone else, for fear she would be caught. For now she would have to keep her secrets to herself. She was still thinking that when she heard someone come into the house.

  “I wonder if she knows some nigga just walked in the house,” Grant said to Judge as they watched the house Farah had been inside for an hour. They were in a gray rental car used to follow her every move.

  “Who knows?” Judge shrugged. “Maybe she’s about to get into some crazy threesome. What I wonder is what is she doing at a blood drive?”

  “Maybe she really does believe she’s some kind of vampire,” Grant told him.

  When Farah crawled out of the window with a sweater dress and her shoes and jacket under her arm, they sat up straight. “Hold up. Do you see that shit?” Grant asked, pointing at the window.

  “This bitch is loony,” Judge responded, shaking his head. “Something is really off about her.”

  “And why is her face covered in . . .”

  “Blood,” Grant responded, looking at his brother.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with this bitch, but it ain’t good,” Judge said under his breath.

  “The question is, should we tell Slade, or keep this shit to ourselves?”

  Chapter 13

  Nadia Gibson

  “If you give her some time, she’ll hang herself.”

  “I’m sorry about leaving you so early, Joe. I had a meeting regarding this Farah Cotton bitch that I didn’t want to miss,” Nadia said, sitting in her police cruiser outside a motel. She looked over at the small plastic Baggie to her right, the real reason for her speedy exit. “I hope you’re not mad with me.”

  “Why would I be mad? I mean, I was wondering where you were, but I figured it was work related. My only problem is that I didn’t get a chance to dig into that pussy before you left. Last night was right. When you off that shit you can go nonstop.” He paused. “Anyway, I was calling you on something else. Did you get a chance to look at the paper?”

  Nadia raised the wrinkled paper in her lap. Of course she read it. She looked at it ten times that morning, going over detail after detail. The main story was the six men who were all murdered with a slice of the jugular vein. The worst part was, they didn’t have a suspect. Nadia had spoken with Lesa and her friends. She was aware that Farah was a self-proclaimed vampire, but without any proof, they couldn’t attribute the crimes to her.

  “Unfortunately I read it.” She sighed. “Do you really think Farah is involved in these too?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what you have to find out,” he said seriously. “And later tonight, when you’re done, I want you back over here and in my bed so we can have part two.”

  She giggled. “What about coming into the office today?” she asked him. “I was kind of hoping to stay out and question a few people in the field.”

  “Do what you have to do. After all, that’s one of the benefits of fucking the boss.”

  When they ended the call, she leaned back into her seat and turned up the slow jams playing in the background. Her mind was all over the place, and it was time to get it right. In her mind, the police car she captained gave her the right to do anything she wanted, including snorting coke behind the driver’s seat. She opened the small plastic bag, poured a small hill on the corner of her hand, and inhaled. When she was done, she wiped her nose and leaned back.

  “What the fuck am I doing?” she asked herself out loud. “Why can’t I stop this shit?”

  No one responded, and she didn’t want an authentic answer anyway. Besides, she fucked better, talked slicker, and seemed emboldened by the magic dust. She’d been on and off the drug for six months. Every attempt to stay clean ended in her fucking some nigga she met in the club, only to be kicked out the next morning.

  It wasn’t until she started fucking Captain Joe Walton that she had some normalcy in her life. He accepted the fact that she snorted coke, provided her with a place to sleep, and, because he was her boss, he covered her absences at work, which meant she would always be employed. No, she didn’t love Joe, but for coke she would do what she had to do.

  When all the powder in her nose was gone, she eased out of her patrol car and knocked on the hotel room where Beverly Glasser had told her to meet her. She moved anxiously in place and knocked again heavily when there was no answer. “Where the fuck is this bitch at?” she asked herself.

  “If you talking about this bitch,” Beverly said as she opened the door, “I was working.” She went about cleaning the room, leaving the door ajar.


  Nadia was flustered. Although she was in charge of the case, Beverly always made her feel like a child, and she never quite knew what to say to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you heard me. I wasn’t talking about you anyway.” She rubbed her clammy hands together.

  “Sure you weren’t, Nadia. And I own this hotel, not just work in it.” Beverly was an older woman with black-and-gray hair and a serious face. Her light blue uniform clung against her hefty body, and the gold name badge protruded from her breast. Whenever she moved, it was obvious that she meant business. “Don’t just stand out there. Come on inside.”

  Nadia ambled inside, closed the door, and leaned against it, but the magic powder had her so busybodied that she couldn’t stay still for long. Instead she shuffled and looked extremely uncomfortable.

  Beverly scanned her and shook her head. “So what have you found out about my son?” She tossed a naked pillow on the floor. “By this point, you had plenty of time to hear something, so I don’t want any more excuses.” She tucked the sheet under the edge of the bed. “Tell me something good.”

  “I can’t give you any information before I have it, Beverly.” Her hand hovered over the handle of her gun, not because she was threatened, but to fake power. “Not to mention she’s had a death in her family recently and her family is guarding her closely.”

  Beverly stopped in place. “So everyone who loses a family member gets away with murder?”

  Nadia remained silent.

  “Don’t play with me, Officer.” She pointed a finger in her face. “I don’t know if I told you, but I don’t like games.”

  “And I’m not trying to play you. It’s just that we should be a little more sensitive at this moment. If you give her some time, she’ll hang herself. Just the other day I was interviewing her ex-roommate, Lesa, and her friends, and Farah came over to the house. I don’t know what she was there to do, but she got away from the scene before I could ask. Trust me, we will get this Farah Cotton.”