Red Light Special

by Risqué

  Now here he stood, betrayal rocking him to the core of his being, looking at this bitch cry as if her life had been stolen, when he was the one who’d been robbed without a gun.

  “And to think,” Kenyatta sneered, “that every motherfuckin’ body always felt sorry for yo’ hookin’ ass when something I did jumped off, not knowing that all along it’s really been you playing the shit outta me!”

  Kenyatta squinted. The light that snuck in through the sliver of space beneath the door blinded him as he bit down on his bottom lip and smacked Monday so hard she stumbled before falling to her ass and skidding across the floor. “I been married to a fuckin’ whore for ten years?” He spat in disbelief. “Ten years you’ve been lying to me? You said your parents were dead—”

  “They are dead.” She held the side of her face, which now was swollen and showed the imprint of his hand.

  “You said you had one cousin you kept in touch with—”

  “I do!”

  “But nowhere in all that did you ever say you were a whore!”

  Silence.

  “Is this why you don’t have any friends, bitch? You ain’t shit! A fuckin’ whore! So tell me, Geneva, what’s your red light special?” He lifted her by the neck and pressed her into the wall. “A half-and-half?” He ripped her blouse open. The shearing of the material sizzled through the room. “A full body or some ass?”

  She pushed him and yelled, “What about all the shit you’ve done to me? I would’ve never done any of that to you!”

  “Did I give you permission to speak, Geneva?” He mushed her across the face, causing her neck to jerk back.

  “Stop it!” Monday tearfully cried, pushing him in the chest again. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Ain’t no motherfuckin’ stop, Jah-nee-va! What I need to pay you? How much you charge?” He reached in his pocket, pulled out a wad of money, and tossed it like confetti into her face.

  “Get the fuck off of me, Kenyatta!” His body weight had never felt so heavy pressed against her.

  Ignoring her demand, Kenyatta unzipped his pants. “What you telling me to stop for? That’s at least a thousand dollars—it should get me an hour!”

  “I’m not a fuckin’ whore!”

  “You a low-down dirty slut, bitch.” He backhanded her. “I got a good mind to make you bend to your knees and suck my dick!”

  Monday tried to fight against his embrace, but she was no match for him. “I swear to God, if you don’t get offa me I’ma call—”

  Kenyatta gave her half a grin and let out a sinister laugh. “You gon’ call who? The cops? I run them motherfuckers, or did you forget? You may as well drop all that damsel-in-distress bullshit and recognize you my bottom bitch and I’m your motherfuckin’ pimp!” He tore her skirt and roughly pulled it off her. “Is this why you like me to fuck you so rough? Is this why I can fuck you any way I want to, because underneath all of this shit”—he ripped her panties off in one sweep—“you turning tricks?”

  Tears streamed down Monday’s face and ran like a waterfall into the corners of her mouth. Her punches into his chest were no match for the way he was gripping her neck and squeezing the sides.

  Monday continued to scream, her words muffled by the tight grip around her throat. She wildly shook her head, but she wasn’t sure if he wasn’t paying attention or he simply didn’t give a fuck.

  “Didn’t I just pay you for this, Geneva? Didn’t I?” He yanked her hair and pushed her face toward his. “Didn’t I?”

  Monday’s screams had faded into silent and painful tears.

  “Say yes!” He forcibly made her head nod. “Say yes.” He forced her to nod again. “That’s what the fuck I thought, so don’t tell me no!” Kenyatta stared into Monday’s eyes. He could feel her trembling in his arms. He hated that thoughts of her fucking another niggah blinded him.

  “Please stop,” Monday tearfully whispered. “Please. I’m sorry…I am…but please…” Her whispers were so low that they barely rose above the iron lump in her throat.

  Kenyatta let Monday’s neck go and started walking away. He was out of his mind and knew he needed to leave before he did something they both regretted.

  Monday’s chest heaved as she stood with her tattered blouse hanging and her hip bruised from the force of Kenyatta ripping her underwear off. She watched him walk backward across the room, twist the knob on the double doors, and head off into the light that streamed down the foyer.

  It was a last-minute trip to the Bahamas they’d planned at Bless’ insistence. Collyn had been sick off and on for the last two weeks and he thought maybe getting away would make her feel better. So they chartered a plane and flew to Paradise Island for an overnight getaway.

  Along with the tropical sun blazing, Collyn awoke dripping wet this morning with Bless’ warm tongue resting on her clit. “Good morning,” he said, looking into her eyes as she lay in the center of the beach bungalow’s wooden bed. The net canopy draped from the ceiling to the bamboo floor.

  Bless placed his thumb on her clit and sucked her inner thigh. Realigning his lips with her slit, he licked the length of her pussy.

  “Okay.” She arched her back, unable to fight off the chilling sensation. “You gotta li’l fetish going on? What’s next—you gon’ blindfold me or some shit?”

  “Ai’ight, cool. You don’t want it, I’ll stop.” And Bless rolled over, his defined body making an imprint in the Bragada mattress as the fine woven-bamboo fabric of the sheets massaged his tight and naked ass. He looked at his dick. “She don’t want none.” He started stroking it. “But she don’t know.” He looked at his hands. “We make a perfect couple.”

  Collyn could still feel the sensation of his tongue. “Why did you stop?” She pushed on his shoulder. “Bless—”

  “What?” He cupped his shaft, his hard-on looking like a sweet log of fudge to her eyes and making her mouth water, “What’s the problem? Since I’m sick you don’t get no dick.”

  “Baby”—she climbed between his legs—“don’t be mad. I was just playing.”

  “You play too much.” He watched her slide down his chest and suck the fingers he cupped his dick with.

  “My clit is throbbing.”

  “That pussy nice and wet, ain’t it?”

  “Mmm-hmmm,” she moaned. Collyn leaned forward and stuck her index finger into her pussy and then into his mouth. “Taste it. Ain’t it good?”

  “Nah.” He sucked her finger. “It’s ai’ight.”

  Collyn couldn’t help laughing. “My baby mad?”

  “Pissed the fuck off.”

  “Aw.” She slid down his stomach and took him into her mouth.

  “You accept my apology, baby?”

  “Yes.” He fucked her mouth. “Oh yes.”

  After pleasuring each other for the next hour, they awoke to Collyn’s phone ringing. “No calls,” Bless said, taking her phone so the call would go to voice mail.

  “But suppose something important has come up and it’s Taryn?”

  “Collyn, damn, we’re only gone for a day. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “I guess, Bless.”

  After making love for most of the day, Bless and Collyn dressed in leisure outfits. He had on a pair of long black linen shorts, matching black leather flip-flops, and a sleeveless white tee, while she wore a white linen tennis dress and nothing on her feet. They walked along the private beach and played tag, she rode on his back, and they laughed like they’d never laughed before in their lives.

  “Yo,” Bless said, “Let’s go over the bridge to Nassau and hang out.”

  “Blessing,” Collyn whined as she lay back on the bed, feeling nauseous again, “maybe tomorrow.”

  “We’ll be back home tomorrow. Now come on we came to have some fun.”

  Collyn turned over and smiled at him. Whenever she looked directly in his face she could never deny him. “All right,” she gave in, “but only for a little while.”

  “Straight, and I got the pe
rfect spot.”

  “What kinda…place is this?” Collyn looked around at the local pool hall where the concrete walls were painted Carribean turquoise and trimmed in pink. There were windows with no frames or screens, a lime green painted bar with a gold marble top, and a DJ who was jamming just as hard to the music he played as the people on the packed dance floor.

  A Shabba Ranks throwback sizzled through the tight concrete slab they were partying on. Most of the people in here were natives, and whoever wasn’t drinking was doing a “dutty whine” on the dance floor.

  “Don’t even try and act like you ain’t down wit’ the get down. Especially not when that fat ass,” he slapped her on it, “is screaming West Indian.” Bless kissed Collyn on the lips and pulled her to the center of the floor. “Come on beautiful, dance with me.”

  Collyn smiled; although she wanted to tell him to take her back to bed, didn’t want to ruin his time, especially since the trip was done for her benefit. So she threw her hips in motion and began to dance with him like nobody’s business.

  After they finished dancing Collyn asked Bless, “Do you play pool?”

  “Nah…,” he playfully mushed her, “I whups ass at pool.”

  Collyn twisted her lips, “Niggah, please.”

  “So what, you wanna get embarrassed?”

  Collyn laughed, “I got fifty dollars that says I won’t.”

  “And it better not be no Bahamian money either.”

  “Whatever.” Collyn said as they walked over to the pool table in the dimly lit far corner.

  “Rack the balls,” Collyn said.

  Bless shot her a look, “Ai’ight.”

  She winked her eye, “You know I can’t hit it that good, can you show me how to knock the balls in the socket?”

  “Now you fucking with me. Keep it up and I’ma have a trick for your ass.” Bless chalked two sticks and handed her one, “This is a grown man’s game anyway.”

  “Whatever,” Collyn said as she broke the first shot and missed.

  “My point exactly.” He walked up behind her, leaned his chest on her back, and took a shot. The ball went in the pocket, and as he quickly went to take another shot, bending over her again, she started gyrating her ass onto his shaft, causing him to miss his shot.

  “I’m warning you to stop.” He said, as his dick turned to iron.

  “What’s wrong?” she positioned herself for a shot and Bless rubbed his hands along her thighs.

  She looked over her shoulder, “Play fair, Bless.”

  Bless laughed, “Don’t be scared, take a shot.” He ran his hands up her skirt and pulled at the sides of her panties. “Let me take ’em off.”

  “Would you stop?”

  “Come on, ain’t nobody gon’ see.” He started pulling them down her thighs, over her knees, and she quickly and quietly stepped out of them. Bless slipped them into his pocket and said, “Take a shot.” He rotated two fingers in.

  “Bless,” she dropped her stick on the table and knocked three balls from their place.

  “My turn.” He took a shot. “We gon’ dead this early, you gon’ learn not to play with me.”

  “What, you think I still can’t win?” She grinded against him.

  Bless handed her the stick, “Take a shot.”

  “It’s your turn,” she said.

  “Nah,” he insisted, “go ahead.”

  Collyn took the stick from his hands, stood on her tiptoes, took a shot, and when she came back down, Bless rubbed the head of his dick between her pussy lips, causing her to tilt forward. “Bless—”

  “What’s the problem?” He pushed his dick all the way in and she screamed.

  “Would you shut the fuck up?” He covered her mouth. “How come every time we fuck you gotta be all loud and shit? Chill.”

  Collyn lifted her eyes and smiled at a few onlookers. “People are looking, Bless” she said tight-lipped.

  He stroked, “Fuck them, they don’t know what we’re doing. It’s dark in here and with my black ass they can’t see shit but my teeth.” He bit her on the neck, stroked twice, and took a shot. “Move along with me.” He reached forward and took three shots, each time moving into her pussy as deep as he could.

  Collyn knew at any minute she was due to cum. His lusciousness filled her up tremendously and all of his strokes were driven with perfection. Collyn fought like hell to keep her eyes open, forcing herself to remember where she was. But as he pumped in and out of her, and the reggae music provided a backdrop to his erotic beat, she was forced to give up the fight. So she closed her eyes, he bit her on the side of her neck, and they both rocked each other into oblivion.

  “I need to stop by the gallery on the way home,” Collyn said as they stepped off the chartered jet at LaGuardia Airport and into the town car.

  “For what?” Bless asked, concerned about how tired she looked. “You need to go home and get in bed.”

  “I will, but after I go to the gallery. I need to pick up my mail, see if any orders have come in, things like that.”

  Reluctantly Bless agreed. “You know I really want you to go home, but ai’ight, we can stop by so you can handle your business. But we’re not staying for long. I’m sure Taryn can hold down the fort.” Bless kissed Collyn on her warm forehead and then informed the driver of their stop. Afterward he joined her in the backseat, where she laid down and placed her head in his lap.

  Forty-five minutes of rush-hour traffic later, they pulled up in front of the gallery. Collyn noticed something different, but at that moment she couldn’t figure out what had changed.

  After the driver opened the door, she and Bless slid out of the car, stood in front of the gallery window, and stared. For a brief moment she wondered where were the hand-carved ivory African statues and hand-blown French vases that usually sat in the window. She pushed the door, noticing nothing was locked, and that’s when it clicked: she’d been hit. Everything in the gallery that wasn’t broken was missing.

  Collyn turned to look at Bless, whose feet crushed broken glass as he walked over to where she was. Collyn rubbed her temples, feeling as if at any moment her head were going to explode.

  “Collyn—” Bless’ voice revealing that he was also in shock.

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she ignored him and walked to her office. She stood in the doorway. Her once-sleek modern-design space looked as if a whirlwind had come through. Her eyes swept to her desk. Her computer was missing, and her file cabinets were gone. She walked over to her desk and checked her drawers. Her ledger was gone.

  Her head started to spin, “Collyn—” Bless called again.

  She spun around. “What the fuck?” she screamed.

  Before he could answer, Taryn rushed in. “Collyn, I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday! Where were you?”

  Collyn ignored her question and instead said, “What the fuck happened here?”

  “The goddamn FBI came up in here and raided the motherfucker. And I just got back from being dragged down in handcuffs for fucking questioning.”

  “The FBI?” Collyn interjected. “What the fuck did they do this shit for?”

  “They raided the place and took every goddamn thing!”

  “FBI?” Bless echoed. “What?”

  “I’m so sick of these motherfuckers fucking with me behind that goddamn Kenyatta!”

  “And they came looking for you. They have a warrant for your arrest!” Taryn went on. “Have you been home? I’m sure they’ve been there.”

  “When did this happen?” Bless asked.

  “They busted up in here last night!” Taryn screamed.

  “What did they say?” Bless asked. “Did they serve you with a search warrant?”

  “Yes.” She handed him a copy of the warrant.

  Collyn felt dizzy. She wavered back and forth before sitting down in the chair, tears slipping from her eyes. “I don’t fuckin’ believe this!” She stared at Bless. “I told you turning the phones off was a bad fuckin’ idea.”
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  “Look, let me take care of this. Taryn, take her home,” he said.

  “I’m not going home. I’m not some damn damsel in distress—this is my business!”

  “I understand that, but you need to go home.” He held the warrant in his hand, “And let me handle this.” He looked at Taryn. “Take her home. I’ll meet you there.”

  Special Agent Blessing Shields was fucked up. Never had he been in love like this, and without warning the shit had to end. It was as if he had forgotten about the undercover investigation he was assigned to. He’d gotten sidetracked from his original investigation of misappropriation of city funds and fraud. And though he was prepared to close in on Kenyatta, he should have been preparing himself for this day, when he’d have to tell Collyn he was an agent and that everything about them was a lie, except for how much he loved her.

  “What the hell is this?” He pushed the door open to the conference room, where his supervisor, Agent Jones, Agent West, the prosecutor, and a few other people from the Missing Persons Squad were sitting. He slammed the warrant on the table, rattling the Styrofoam cups of coffee and tins of peppermints. “Why the hell would you do some shit like that to her?”

  Cigarette smoke traveled to the ceiling as they all looked at him in shock.

  “Agent Shields, I think you need to get a hold of yourself,” said the agent in charge, Pamela Smiley, Bless’ supervisor. “And in five minutes meet me in my office. Until then you are to be excused.”

  Bless picked up the warrant off the table, looked at everyone awkwardly, and backed out the room.

  Fifteen minutes later, Agent Smiley strolled into her office, where Bless sat waiting for her. She closed the door behind her and walked over to her desk. She looked him in the eyes and said, “Have you calmed down now?”