Blood, Sweat & Payback (Payback Series)

by Wahida Clark

  She didn’t sweat the Honda at first. In fact, she used it for cover, but when the Honda made the same three turns as Nick, Michelle said, “Yo . . . I don’t think we the only ones trackin’ this mark.”

  “I see that,” Courtney agreed.

  When the Civic did it a fourth time, they knew it wasn’t a coincidence.

  “Damn, yo, who is this bitch? She tryin’ to fuck us out of our lick?” Courtney chuckled.

  “Whoever it is, the bitch is an amateur. If the nigga don’t see her, he needs to be robbed!”

  Nick didn’t see her because he was thinking with the other head. He led Nyla right to Shan’s brownstone and got out. Michelle and Courtney kept going. At the end of the block, Nyla pulled over and parked while Michelle made a right.

  “Circle the block,” Courtney told her.

  “That’s what I’m doin’.”

  Nick got out and rang the bell. He never called before he came. Even though he had a key he didn’t use it, but nevertheless he still felt as if this was his spot. He waited. No answer. He rang again. Still no answer. He got impatient. So he called Shan.

  “Hello?”

  “What up, ma? I’m on the porch. Open the door.”

  A hiccup of a pause. “I’m not home.”

  “Where you at?”

  “Detroit.”

  “Detroit? What for? Why you ain’t tell me?”

  “Because.”

  “Because? What do you mean because?”

  “Because I brought . . . I brought the kids to see their father,” she replied haughtily.

  Nick felt his temper rise. Not because she went, but because she didn’t tell him. “Without tellin’ me?” he questioned. “It’s not safe for you to be roaming around with the children. You should have checked with me first. I would have sent somebody with you.”

  “Lupita is with me. Plus, I didn’t have to tell you or check with you,” she shot back. “So don’t start trippin’, Nick. This baby has been crying all day, and Li’l Peanut is acting up,” she said, trying to pile up motherly reasons to distract him.

  Nick sighed hard. “Yo, whateva,” he replied, attitude apparent. He hung up, turned and went back to his car and drove away.

  Nyla got low as she watched Nick drive right past her. Once he turned the corner, she got out and walked down to Shan’s brownstone. She climbed the stairs and peeked through the octagon-shaped front window. The place was laced, which only made her madder. Here was another man she had her hooks in, taking care of this home-wrecking hoochie.

  “Oh yeah, you gonna get yours real soon, you bitch,” Nyla hissed as she headed back to the car. She had gotten what she came for; now she could go home.

  By the time Michelle and Courtney came full circle, Nick was just getting back into his car and leaving. They parked up the block and watched Nyla get out, climb the stairs, and start peeking in the window as if she was staking the house out.

  “What the fuck is she doin’?” Courtney questioned.

  “I don’t think she tryin’ to rob that nigga,” Michelle suspected. “She checkin’ for Shan. That nigga creepin’.”

  “Shit, what nigga ain’t? Besides, she might be the wifey and Shan is the jump-off,” Courtney suggested.

  “Naw, I doubt that.”

  “Why?”

  “ ’Cause the bitch drivin’ a Civic and Shan drivin’ an Infiniti,” Michelle pointed out.

  Courtney nodded. “Yeah, you right.”

  Both of them got quiet. They were in deep thought as they watched Nyla pull off.

  “So what we gonna do?” Michelle questioned.

  “Stick to the plan. This nigga could be that lick we waitin’ for, yo,” Courtney replied.

  “Yeah, but we fuck wit’ Shan. She cool peeps. She a little green, but goddamn, if a bitch schemin’ on her, I’m just sayin’.”

  Again, they got quiet. They both were go-getters, and they liked Shan, and the fact that she was a go-getter as well.

  “So how we tell her we know? ‘Yo, Shan, we was followin’ ya man ’cause we were about to hit him, when some bitch came through schemin’ on you,’ ” Courtney suggested sarcastically.

  “Naw, we tell her, her man creepin’. Try to get in her head, and maybe she’ll be wit’ it and help us hit him. As long as we don’t kill him,” Michelle reasoned.

  “Which we can’t guarantee,” Courtney shot back.

  “True. But do we fuck wit’ sis or not?” Michelle asked.

  Courtney sighed hard. “Man, fuck it. Money ain’t always everything. Us bad bitches gotta stick together. We will make her a part of our team.”

  “That’s what it is then,” Michelle said and nodded in agreement.

  They pulled off with the sounds of Kendrick Lamar’s “Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe” bumping from the speakers.

  • • •

  After Nick hung up on her, Shan felt bad. She didn’t feel obligated to him, but he didn’t deserve the disappearing act. She had thought about telling him before she left but she kept telling herself she was only taking the kids to see their father.

  Until she laid eyes on Briggen.

  He came through the door, and she couldn’t stop her heart from leaping loud, just like a dog pawing at the gate when it sees its owner. He may’ve been dressed in them ugly-ass khakis, but he looked good in it. Not being on the move all the time made him gain weight, but to her, he had simply filled out. He had a fresh haircut and razor-sharp shape up. His skin tone was still flawless, and his lips were what she focused on. She remembered how he used to . . .

  “No!” she had to tell herself. I just brought the kids to see their father. But when Li’l Peanut cried out, “Daddy!” she couldn’t stop her heart or her lips from breaking into a smile.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he greeted Shan, but his eyes were glued to Brianna, sleeping peacefully in her mother’s arms.

  “You talkin’ to me or her?” Shan flirted.

  “Both, because one is just the reflection of the other. But, damn, I wish I could hold her.”

  “You will . . . soon,” she said encouragingly, but not believing it herself.

  You just don’t know how soon, he thought. Instead, he acted dejected. “I hope so.”

  “What is Rudy saying?” Shan wanted to know.

  Briggen shrugged. “What he always says. That he’s on it. Hopefully, I’ll know something soon.”

  He spent the first part of the visit speaking to Li’l Peanut and talking to Shan about the baby. The more he did, the more he thought about what Rudy said. Looking from the other side of the glass at his very first baby girl being so tiny and vulnerable was getting to him. Stay focused, he told himself. This is the same bitch that stabbed you in the heart and twisted the knife.

  “Real talk, Shan, when I’m through with this, it’s going to be all about spending more time with my seeds. Being away, I can see what’s most important, and that’s my family,” he told her, looking her in the eyes. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “You sure that’s not the bars talking, Briggen? Seem like every nigga in jail say they gonna be the perfect husband, the perfect father, the perfect man, but get out and act just like the perfect nigga!” Shan got philosophical.

  “You right. But for me, I don’t want to lose my family. I don’t want to lose you,” he said.

  Her voice subtly caught in her throat, but she hid the hitch. “We can’t ignore how we split up. What makes you think you haven’t lost us already?”

  “Because you’re here.”

  “I only came to bring the kids—”

  He shook his head with a knowing smile. “That’s what you told yourself in order to justify coming. But I can see it in your eyes; you . . . are here, too.”

  Shan hated the fact that he knew her so well.

  “Why did you fuck me over, Shan?”

  She looked up at him speechless. The hurt visible in his eyes and in the expression on his face.

  “Time’s up, Thompson!”
the guard told Briggen.

  “Say good-bye to your daddy, Peanut.” Shan was glad to be getting out from under his microscope. She wanted to talk about them, but not at this time. No. The time wasn’t right.

  “I’m comin’ home, baby, and I’m comin’ home to you. You know I’m still in love with you, right?”

  She couldn’t help but feed into the moment, because deep down inside, that’s what she wanted.

  “I love you, too,” she replied as she hugged both of their children. Shan then watched them lead her husband away in chains.

  • • •

  When Nick arrived in Detroit, he arranged a meeting with Sherman on the fly, but he headed straight for their hideaway apartment. He didn’t want Shan to think he had come to Detroit just for her. But he had to see her. His ego couldn’t take losing her to Briggen.

  When he knocked on the door, Shan and the nanny had been in the bedroom putting the kids down for their afternoon nap. She gave their nanny the pet name “The Rock” because she was the same nanny that Briggen found for her. She sent for her the minute she set foot in New York, and Lupita asked no questions.

  Shan came out, gently closed the door behind her, and then went to the front door. As soon as she opened the door, he was all over her.

  “Nick!” she gasped. He smothered any protest there may’ve been with a breathtaking kiss. “Why are you knocking? Where is your key?”

  Shan slammed the door shut behind him by pinning her body against it. She had on a Victoria Secret one-piece shorts jumper that zipped up in the middle, so it was easy for him to get the sweetness underneath. Before she knew it, he had her jumper wide open and her bra off her breasts while he feasted on her nipples and pushed her panties aside to play with her clit.

  “Nick, wait—” she pleaded weakly, already caught up in the energy he had brought. “Lupita might come up front.”

  She had never seen him like this before. He was always passionate, but now he ravished her. Her first thought was to stop him. But the truth was, she didn’t want to. Her mind was still reeling from her visit with Briggen, the first man in her life. And now this surprising behavior from the second man in her life had her feeling herself.

  “Take this shit off!” Nick yanked down her jumper, dropping to his knees and replacing his finger with his tongue to play with her clit. Shan grabbed the doorknob trying to crush it in her palm as her whole body convulsed in an orgasm that crept up on her. Nick licked and sucked that pussy until Shan begged, “Fuck me, baby! Please put that dick in me!”

  He hoisted her off her feet and positioned her on his rock hard dick as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Nick gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks and pushing himself in and out, deeper with every stroke.

  “This my pussy, my pussy,” he grunted, using each stroke to spell his name in it.

  “Make it yours,” she squealed, bouncing on his dick. The sound of wet pussy being fucked filled the room.

  He finger fucked her asshole while grinding into her pussy, causing her to claw his back and cream all over his dick. It took him a while to nut, but when he did, his dick still remained rock hard. He was blowing her mind with a stamina that she had never seen before. By the time he had her on the thick carpet and put the curve in his dick to work, she was moaning, “It’s your pussy, baby, your pussy. It’s yours!”

  A couple hours later, they were awakened by the ring of Nick’s phone.

  “Yeah,” he answered groggily.

  “Benny Thrillz at ten o’clock,” Sherman told him, and hung up.

  Nick rubbed his eyes, and then shook Shan. “Come on. Get up and get dressed.”

  “Nooo,” she whined, wanting to snuggle.

  Nick popped her on the ass playfully. “Come on, let’s get this money.”

  Even though she wanted to sleep, hearing the word money was her motivation. And the combination of some good dick and a man that helps you get your own money could be undeniably addictive.

  • • •

  Exactly an hour and a half later, they arrived at Benny Thrillz. Nick turned to Shan and asked, “Okay, QueenPin, you ready?”

  “You sure you don’t want to go in with me?” she asked nervously.

  Nick chuckled. “That’ll kinda defeat the purpose, won’t it? Don’t worry. You’ll do fine. We’ve been over this a hundred times. You got this. Go get that gwap, hustla.”

  Shan laughed, and it released some of her anxiety. She took a deep breath and got out. As she walked, she gained more confidence with every step. It reminded her of the feeling she got promoting her own shows and she found her rhythm.

  Dark checked his watch. He hated waiting. Shan breezed in and his eyes were instantly drawn as they would be to any bad bitch’s entrance, but his mind was on getting money. That is, until he saw her headed to his table. He watched her approach, and he tried to remember where he knew her from.

  Shan slid into the booth and said, “Sorry I’m late.”

  Dark smiled and licked his lips. “You got me mixed up wit’ somebody else, li’l mama, but I wish I was that someone else.”

  Business-like, Shan replied, “You’re Dark, right?”

  His smile turned upside down and his antenna went up.

  “Dark?” Shan smirked because she knew it was him. “Look, you wanna do business or you wanna play games? I’m Nick’s people. I’m the one you’ll be dealin’ with.”

  Where all these hos come off thinking they can play a man’s game? Dark thought, thinking of Crystal dead with a dog’s dick in her mouth.

  “I wanna talk to Nick.”

  “You are. I’m Nick as far as this is concerned. Now, yes or no, do we do business?” Shan asked directly, her demeanor solid but feminine.

  Dark needed product like yesterday, so he decided to go with the setup until he could find an angle to play.

  “Okay, li’l mama, I—”

  “Redbone. The name is Redbone. Not li’l mama, shorty, or sweetie. Respect me and I’ll respect you,” she broke it down to him.

  Dark had to admit he liked Redbone’s swag. Then it hit him. “Redbone, yeah . . . you used to promote parties not too long ago,” he remarked.

  Proud of being remembered but not wanting to let Dark in, she replied, “Something like that. So what’s the number?”

  “What’s yours?” he shot back.

  “Same thing The Commission was getting it for, a little less if you play fair,” she told him, trying to remember everything Nick went over with her.

  “The Consortium,” he corrected her with a knowing smile.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said The Commission. It’s The Consortium.”

  “Oh, well, you know what I meant.”

  “True, but always mean what you say. In this business, words count,” he gamed her.

  “I’ll try to remember that,” Shan replied with a hint of sarcasm.

  She took out a small TracFone and slid it across the table to him.

  “Hit me when you’re ready. Remember, I’m in charge now,” she told him with just a hint of sass, enough to be sexy.

  Dark pocketed the phone. “Expect my call within the hour, fo’ sho’.”

  Shan nodded and stood up. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He winked.

  Shan’s reply was a confident strut toward the exit that read, untouchable.

  Dark’s phone registered a text.

  Who’s next?

  “Goddamn! Broad daylight? My young boy is a beast!”

  Chapter Ten

  Tommy took his grandmother to church every Sunday. He rarely missed a day. She had raised him when his mother died, and since he didn’t know his father, she was all he had. She always tried to instill in him the love of the Lord. So even though he was heavy in the streets, he felt like giving one day to the Lord was a hustler’s tithe. He shut down all operations and could be found in the front pew of Ebenezer Baptist Church right next to his g
randmother.

  Ebenezer was known for having one of the best choirs in Detroit, so the church was always rocking with loud, raucous praise and a lively youth ministry drawn by the music. That was how Baby Boy blended in. The pastor always emphasized, ‘come as you are’, so Baby Boy came as he was, a cold-blooded killer dressed in Dickie cargo pants, sagging, exposing his underwear, a hoodie, and work boots. He even put sixty-six dollars and six cents in the offering, an inside joke with himself.

  “Brothers and sisters . . . before we go, I ask you . . . no! I implore you . . . to look deep inside and say, ‘Self . . .’ ”

  The congregation repeated, “Self!”

  “Let go!”

  “Let go!”

  “And let God!”

  “And let God!”

  “Because, he is our only salvation,” the preacher concluded, dabbing his precious face with a silk handkerchief with his diamond-studded hand. “Now if there’s anyone who wants to dedicate their lives to me—I mean—Jeee-suss . . . come up now and proclaim!”

  Several people around the church got up and headed to the front and Baby Boy was the third one. People would only remember he was young looking, no more than sixteen, and thin. But since he kept his head down and things happened so fast, no two people could give the same description.

  As soon as the train of people reached the front, Baby Boy pulled his chrome .44 Bulldog and aimed it dead in Tommy’s face.

  In all his years of coming to church to praise the Lord, Tommy never knew he’d actually meet the Lord face-to-face, but there he was in the form of a cold, steel barrel. And when the shots exploded in his brain, they exploded with the finality of Baby Boy yelling, “Let the church say Amen!”

  Three shots to the dome and Baby Boy blew bits of Tommy’s head back over the next three pews. The church broke out in a screaming panic. Tommy’s grandmother fainted. Baby Boy fired off two more shots in the air to make people scatter and get low as he made his escape through the back door.

  Once outside, another faceless crackhead awaited him in another nondescript hooptie, and his rotting body would soon be found in the forgotten ghetto.

  “Yo, pull off! Fuck you waitin’ for?” Baby Boy shouted.