Blood, Sweat & Payback (Payback Series)

by Wahida Clark

  All Demetria knew was, she needed a drink, some dick, and not necessarily in that order. But looking around, she didn’t see much of either. The drinks, she was sure were watered down, and so were the niggas. When she walked in, the men all paused, but they were all such . . . lames. The only reason she came to this club was because it was close to her apartment. And for the end of March, Oak Ridge was boasting a beautiful and record breaking seventy-five degrees. But after twenty minutes of weak-ass game and lame-ass music, Demetria was ready to try her hand at another club . . . until he walked in.

  He wasn’t that tall, five-eight at the most, but with his curly hair, ebony tone, and gangsta swagger, she knew she was fucking him tonight. Not to mention his True Religion jeans, diamond earrings, and platinum grill made her know that he was ballin’. She decided to make herself known by using the most ancient form of communication.

  Dance.

  But in this day and time it was her . . . twerk game.

  She made her way on to the small dance floor and proceeded to dance as if she was back on the pole at All-Stars. Niggas that tried to dance with her she moved away or totally ignored them. She wanted him to know this was all for him. When he did notice, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He was one of the hustlers that ran Oak Ridge, so he was used to that kind of treatment. However, he had never seen Demetria before, and he was intrigued, to say the least. She was a stallion. Her breasts sat up as if they were full of saline, nevertheless, they were all natural, and she had an ass and aura like Pinky the Porn Star. Her butt shots were complements of Big T.

  He bought two Cirocs with cranberry juice and then made his way onto the dance floor and handed her one as he got closer to look at her skills.

  “The way you workin’ it, li’l mama, I thought you might be thirsty.”

  Demetria sipped and giggled, turning to face him. “Mmmmm, a mind reader. What else do you read?” She flirted hard.

  “Body language.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, what’s my body sayin’?” she quizzed, turning and putting her ass on him, grinding provocatively.

  “It’s sayin’, let’s go!” he said, dick on sprung.

  She gave him her phony sexy laugh. “Slow down. You read my body right, but what’s your name, baby?” she remarked, giving him the innocent eyes.

  Thick as she was, he was ready to rock.

  “Rob, li’l mama, what’s yours?”

  “Deme—”

  “Huh?” Rob strained to hear over the music.

  “Dee-Dee,” she replied.

  He got up close in her ear and said, “Ma, I’m a man of few words, little patience, and no games. I’m sayin’, what you tryin’ to do? Because it’s a million other places we could be.”

  Grinding up against him, she already knew he had a decent-sized dick, and his swag was definitely a turn-on, so why play hard to get when she wanted the same thing?

  “So what you tryna do? And where you from, Dee-Dee?”

  “That’s irrelevant. The point is, where we goin’? Or, did you change your mind?” she challenged.

  “I like that aggressive shit. It turns me on,” he told her as he led her to the door.

  • • •

  With her face down and ass up, all Rob could think about was Jell-O, watching her ass bounce and roll with every stroke. Demetria’s pussy was so wet it started to talk to him from the first stroke.

  “Ohhh, fuck, yeah, daddy. She is talkin’ to you,” she moaned, gripping the sheets.

  Rob spread her ass cheeks and slid his thumb deep in her ass. She released a sexy squeal and started to throw it back harder and harder the more he thumb-fucked her.

  “Mmmmm. Put-put it in my-my ass, daddy,” she begged.

  Rob didn’t hesitate. He slid in her ass with a full stroke and instantly fell in love. She began playing with her clit. The way she was moaning, coupled with his grunting, it sounded as if they were filming a porno. Rob was in a zone listening to the wet smack of every stroke.

  “Oh God! Fuck this ass, fuck . . . this . . . assss,” she squealed, feeling like her pussy was about to explode. “Oh, Rob, I’m about to come, baby!”

  Rob had been doing his best to hold back, but with Demetria’s ass muscles squeezing his dick, he couldn’t help but bust off right behind her.

  Exhausted but satisfied, Demetria knew how she’d pass her days in Oak Ridge until the trial. When the Feds gave her a temporary get out of jail free card, she knew she had to get out of the “D”. If Briggen discovered that she’d turned and was cooperating, her ass would have been cooked.

  While they both lay there half-asleep, Rob received a text from Mook:

  I’m here. We need to powwow.

  • • •

  Big Choppa’s funeral was packed. They say the size of a gangsta’s respect can be measured by the size of his funeral. If that was true, then Big Choppa had to be one of the most respected gangstas from Memphis to Detroit. Old players came out of the shadows long enough to pay their respect while young players got a lesson in how it was to be done. Everybody was there in full force, on this dreary Friday morning, including the law.

  Detective Sherman and a surveillance unit sat in a van across the street watching the cameras that had been strategically set up to photograph the guests going in and out of the funeral home.

  “Now him right there, that’s Fat Rich from Zone 8. He’s also a new Consortium member,” Sherman boasted, proud that he knew the who’s who of the streets. He waited as pictures were snapped before he continued.

  “Next up getting out of the Aston Martin is Kay-Gee and JoJo. Behind them, Slim and Teraney. Their crew is dangerous.”

  “Who’s that behind them?” One of the officers asked as several important looking men filed out of the Mercedes stretch limousine. He held his camera steady as Sherman shuffled his mental rolodex.

  “I don’t know,” Sherman replied. “Probably an out-of-towner. Make sure you get some pictures.”

  Unbeknownst to Detective Sherman, the small framed, Italian gentleman flanked by four men was Big Choppa’s connect. Victor Conti. Once Victor heard from Boomer that Choppa was gone, he made it his business to pay his respects.

  “Oh, here comes Choppa’s daughter Janay and his right-hand man, Boomer. Janay is supposed to be out of the business end of the family and moving into the legitimate end. Go figure. I heard several different versions as to why Janay walked away from the family business. I’m really not sure if that was before I was on the clock or not. She moved to North Carolina, so she’s somebody else’s headache now.”

  Behind Janay and Boomer’s limo were Dark and Crystal. Dark helped her out of the car. She began to walk slowly and couldn’t stop crying. He put his arm around her as she clung to him.

  “That is the man to watch. His name’s Dark, and he could very well be the next kingpin of Detroit. Yeah, Dark.” He leered at him as Dark looked back before entering the church. “I’ve got my eye on you,” Sherman promised.

  The next person made Sherman chuckle.

  “Who’s that?” The technician was curious.

  “Nobody,” Sherman remarked, watching Nick and Shan get out of his Silver Range Rover and go inside.

  “Hmmmmm, Mo’Betta. You must be movin’ up in the world. Guess I’m gonna have to watch you too,” Sherman remarked, seeing Mo’Betta arrive with Keeta.

  “Why do you say that, Detective?” another officer asked.

  “That’s Calvin Thompson aka Briggen’s cousin. She must be pregnant by Maurice Young, or like I said, Mo’Betta. But if she is, you can bet Thompson is keepin’ him close and probably using him as legs, ears, and eyes while he’s inside,” Sherman surmised correctly, then added, “Yep . . . Looks like the gang’s all here!”

  Inside the medium sized church they were packed in like a can of sardines. When Crystal saw Janay, she ran into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Janay’s pain was visibly etched on her face, but she carried herself with regal composure.

  “H
e’s gone, Nay, he’s gone!” Crystal cried out, feeling so much better in her sister’s embrace.

  “I know, baby. Let it out,” Janay urged her.

  “What’re we gonna do?” Crystal sniffed. “I–I just don’t know what to do.”

  Janay looked into her sister’s eyes and saw it all. The pain, the sadness, the confusion, but the clearest emotion front and center was the guilt, and Janay understood why. Choppa didn’t want her to get married. He had probably threatened to cut her off, and Crystal, being her spoiled self, threw a tantrum, a tantrum Dark used to his advantage. Janay’s eyes turned to Dark and regarded him coolly.

  “Hello . . . Dark, is it?” She allowed her sarcasm to drip.

  “How’re you, Janay? I’m sorry about your loss,” he offered with a straight face, ignoring her sarcasm.

  Bullshit. She replayed the last conversation with Choppa. He needed her, and she turned her back on him. Now all she could do was pray that God saw her sacrifice and that something good would come out of her decision.

  The old Janay would’ve spit in his face because deep down, she knew Dark had some hand in her father’s death. Her street instincts screamed it, and they had never been wrong. But the saved Janay accepted the fact that Choppa lived by the sword. It was simply his turn to die by it. Janay didn’t answer Dark. She simply nodded and turned back to Crystal.

  “Janay, what are we going to do?” Crystal cried, knowing she had been the cause. The guilt of sleeping with the man who had a hand in taking her daddy’s life was killing her soul.

  “Nothing,” Janay replied.

  “Nothing? But they killed—”

  “It is God’s wrath upon this family, Crystal, and the wrath of the Lord will not be turned away until this family comes to him. Until then, God will turn us against one another and allow the devil to be the cause of our demise,” Janay preached calmly, looking Crystal squarely in her eyes.

  Crystal couldn’t take her sister’s penetrating gaze that saw right through her. Oh my God, she knows! “Janay, I-I-,” Crystal stuttered, paranoid that her sister knew that she had a hand in their father’s death.

  “Shhhh, what’s done is done. I’m not the one you or him have to worry about. You should fear no man. Only God.” Janay’s tone was more of a threat instead of a warning. She then turned to greet more of the guests that came out to offer their condolences.

  After Boomer hugged Crystal she sat down next to Janay, wishing she could be more like her sister, and at the same time, feeling inferior because she wasn’t.

  Boomer brushed past Dark without speaking. He simply glared at him and sat next to Crystal, making Dark sit beside him like the outsider he was.

  Don’t worry, your day is coming too, old ass nigga, Dark seethed.

  Their attention then went to Victor. Janay gave a slight smile as Victor came over to embrace her. “Janay.” He said a few sentences in Italian and gave her another hug. “If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call me. You know I’d do anything for your father. I know you hear this all of the time, but they don’t make them like him and Boomer anymore.”

  “I know, Mr. Conti. All the more reason why I’m out. But there is one thing you can do for me.”

  “Anything. What is it?”

  She turned away from Crystal. “As of this moment do not deal with my sister or anyone she brings to you without checking with Boomer first.”

  “Your father said that you—and we just arranged—”

  “We will talk another time, Mr. Conti.”

  Crystal had never met Victor, but did speak to his people. Victor shook her hand, and he stood in front of Boomer. They exchanged a few words.

  “Crystal, baby. Who is that? That’s him, isn’t it?” Dark was on the edge of his seat. The man’s whole demeanor screamed ‘the connect’. Dark could hardly contain himself. “Crystal!”

  “Jerome, my daddy is dead. How can you talk about business? We are at his funeral, for God’s sake.” She sobbed louder and harder.

  Shan spotted Keeta in the middle of the church and made her way over to where she was. “Keeta, girl, how are you?” With the big, black hat and veil over her face, Keeta didn’t know who Shan was until she heard her voice.

  Keeta let out a sarcastic laugh. “How am I? You got balls. Bitch, you left my cousin high and dry and off with his kids with his boy. Ho, I ain’t got nothing for you. You need to watch your back!” Keeta spat and left Shan standing there embarrassed and wanting to crawl under a rock.

  Minutes later the preacher gave a beautiful eulogy filled with the standard lies on top of lies and soliloquies that turned gangstas into saints. Everyone then made a grand exit as they all headed to the cemetery. The funeral procession made its way up Woodward Avenue to the Woodlawn Cemetery for the burial.

  The funeral procession was almost a mile long, so it gave Shan ample time to get comfortable in Nick’s Range Rover and to get her thoughts together and get reacquainted with the who’s who of Detroit. She did miss the city. In New York she felt too much like a loner. But now her run-in with Keeta really had her feeling alone.

  “I see Keeta has a new man,” she remarked. “I was wondering if that was the baby’s daddy.”

  Nick shrugged. “I’ve never seen the nigga, so I don’t know his story. Why didn’t you ask her?”

  Shan sucked her teeth. “Please. I tried to speak to her, but the bitch got all stank on me. I’ma call her and cuss her ass out.”

  Nick glanced over at her while he drove but kept his eyes out for any signs of a setup. He knew he shouldn’t have come. They both were supposed to be lying low, but attending the funeral was a way to get a good pulse beat on the streets.

  “Shan, what are you gonna do about Briggen?” he asked, nixing Keeta.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, he is the father of your two kids. Do you plan on letting him be a part of their lives?”

  “Truthfully, Nick, I don’t know. But one thing I do know is he won’t be a part of mine,” she lied, knowing she had talked to Briggen the night before.

  Nick nodded, taking it all in. He wasn’t stupid. He knew feelings didn’t just go away overnight, especially for women. But he would simply have to trust her, because he had bigger things to worry about.

  • • •

  “I see that nigga Dark fuckin’ Big Choppa’s daughter now. I’ll give it to him. The nigga smart. Yo, he knows how to make moves,” Kay-Gee complimented as he and Born rode in the back of the stretch Phantom with JoJo and Teraney right behind them. This was the crew that Born moved from Memphis. Detroit was now their new home and territory.

  “That only makes him predictable. Never mistake movement for action. He gonna try to push Crystal back and run the show. That’s why I went and hollered at Janay, to see what’s really good,” Born remarked.

  “And?”

  Born shook his head. “She always been hard to read. She talking that Jesus shit, but that gangsta shit still in her. I could feel it. I don’t know. But for now, she’s a wild card.”

  Kay-Gee nodded as he looked out on the dismal Detroit streets.

  “Any word on who tried to set y’all up at Benny Thrillz?”

  “Naw, but to be honest, I ain’t been on that shit like that. It’ll come to light. More important, we need a stable connect. With Mr. G in Italy and Nick cased up, shit been really flaky. Not to mention, what we can get has been pure bullshit. We need to get right. I want you to go to New York, get at Wise. Pick his brain,” Born told him.

  “Wise? How we gonna fuck wit’ that nigga after—”

  Born waved him off. “Ancient history. That was his cousin, not him. Besides, Doc was a weak link. Can’t knock the nigga for exposin’ it.”

  Kay-Gee chuckled. “True. I ain’t look at it like that. Still, I don’t trust them Brooklyn niggas. They grimy as fuck.”

  “That’s good you don’t trust him, then he can never catch you slippin’. Only those you trust can do that,” Born jewel
ed him, looking him in the eyes.

  Nyla didn’t make it in time for the eulogy, but she did join the procession to the cemetery. She had decided to come out, see and be seen, because she was tired of the drabness of her life. It was time to get back in the mix. But she didn’t want to go the club route, so Choppa’s funeral was right on time. She knew she would always love Forever, but it was time to move on with her life. But it couldn’t be with a nine to five. Forever had her spoiled. So if she couldn’t settle down, she at least knew she could find a sponsor and she did. Nick. Janay had come to her because she needed someone to work him, get into his head and get the info she needed. And who was the person to do that? Tiny. Nyla’s alter ego. When she and Forever would play bedroom games, it always drove him crazy when Tiny paid him a visit.

  Upon her arrival at the burial site, she sat back and watched all the hustlers getting out and making their presence known. She spotted Nick exiting a Silver Range Rover. Nyla smiled to herself because she knew he would definitely remember Tiny. Just as she started to make a beeline toward Nick, she stopped dead in her tracks when he helped a much thicker looking Shan out of the truck. “That bitch.” She gritted her teeth, balling up her fists. She knew this was not the place or time to make a scene so she had to control herself. “Damn that ho. First, Forever, and now Nick. What the fuck do this bitch got between her legs?” she whispered as if somebody would answer her question.

  It had been months since Forever’s death, and Shan just up and disappeared. Nyla had even gone so far as attending Briggen’s court appearances, but it was to no avail. She couldn’t catch up with Shan for nothing. She had all but given up on ever seeing her again. She knew she had moved away, but she didn’t know where. But now, here she was, in her face, and had the nerve to be looking fly. Had the nerve to show up with the nigga who she played Briggen with and the man she was connected with. Was she crazy?

  “It must be meant for me to kill this bitch,” she mumbled angrily. Seeing her again only renewed her desire to taste some payback. Nyla left abruptly, having seen all she needed to lay her trap.