by Cole Hart
When they released each other, Danté called Cam over. He’d been introduced to Rodney earlier, but now, he was told he’d be working with Rodney from now on, with the same prices and same quantity. They shook hands on the agreement and departed.
Rodney got into the driver’s seat of his Lexus Sport Coupe, which was identical to Danté’s. Rodney couldn’t believe this; it all seemed like a dream. He looked at the dashboard trying to figure out what was what. When he reclined his seat, the passenger side door opened. He looked to this right and saw Tonya leaning toward him, placing her left hand on the soft butter leather to keep from falling face first inside the vehicle. She held a small business card between her fingers.
“Call me when you get a chance,” she told him. Then she gave him the card and closed the door, disappearing as fast as she had appeared.
Rodney stuffed the card in the pocket of his jeans and stepped out of the car. He removed a pack of Newport’s from his pocket, fired one up, and inhaled. The menthol on top of the champagne gave him the rush he desired.
He looked at Danté and said, “I’ma go get me a room when Ann gets back.” Smoke leaked from his nose and mouth as he spoke.
Danté laughed under his breath. “A room? Nigga, you already got a house.”
Rodney had a serious, confused expression across his face. “The house we had in Farrington…” Danté reached in his pocket and removed a single key from a key ring, handing it to Rodney.
Smiling, he took the key and shook his head. At that moment, the twins came in the yard from the patio doors and ran full speed toward Rodney and Danté. Lil’ Danté was behind them; he wasn’t as fast, but he was coming. The twins referred to Danté as Daddy, and he certainly filled the role. He got them everything they wanted, and he loved them as if they were his very own.
Rodney hugged the twins one at a time and then embraced his other nephew. There was nothing but love in the air.
Chapter 16
Ann didn’t want Rodney to do anything but lay back and relax. The king-sized bed was laced with satin sheets that Ann had brought from her apartment. Rodney laid flat on his back with his head propped up on a few goose-down pillows.
There wasn’t any music playing to set the tone. Ann wanted it; Rodney didn’t care. He was just ready to relieve some built-up stress. She came from the bathroom in a red negligee. When Rodney saw her, he knew he wasn’t about to lie there and be teased. He was too eager for any foreplay. Not tonight.
She reached the edge of the bed and climbed in with him. As she gripped his soft penis through his boxer briefs, it quickly hardened in her hand. She smiled at his response and slid his boxers off his body. He was completely naked now, and she didn’t waste any time serving him orally. She worked her mouth and tongue on him very slowly, getting a rhythm going. He could feel her saliva running down and around his scrotum. His toes curled and his body tensed up as he ran his fingers through her hair, guiding her head. He wanted to be in control. He pulled her up until she mounted him. Her eyes widened, and she looked as if she was holding her breath while trying to withstand the pain.
Rodney grabbed her waist and met her body motions. He stroked, only working his lower body. She moaned and closed her eyes.
“I forgot to tell you it takes a long time for me to cum.”
“I got all night,” she said, kissing him. “We’ll get it.”
*****
The following day at lunchtime, Ann came strolling into the hair salon with a smile on her face that spoke for itself. There were two customers waiting to get their hair done. Ann spoke to everybody, waving as if she were on a float in a Christmas parade. She walked into the office where Summer was sitting at her desk and smiled.
“Whuzzup?”
Ann continued to smile. “You already know.” She sat down and took a deep breath. “Girl, I ain’t been home yet.”
Summer shook her head. “And Monte jus’ came by here lookin’ fo’ you, too.”
Ann’s smile faded. “He did?”
“And he’s mad.”
Ann rubbed her face and gave a worried look. Monte was a friend of hers who had been living with her for the last six months. To her, he wasn’t anything but a sex partner who possessed a key to her apartment, coming and going as he pleased.
“Fuck dat nigga,” she finally said with confidence in her voice. “He got a bitch on da side.”
Summer’s cell phone rang. She removed it from the charger and answered it. It was Danté on the other end. They talked briefly before she hung up the phone. She looked at Ann and stood up.
“I gotta go meet, Danté,” she told Ann, standing up. “You gonna be alright?”
Ann twisted her mouth. “I ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout dat nigga.” She managed a small smile, but deep down inside she was really scared.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” Summer said as she walked toward the door to leave.
“Okay, boo. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”
Summer spoke to everybody before exiting the front glass doors. Before she could get in her car, Rodney pulled into the parking lot and lowered the passenger side window.
“Whuzzup?” he said. “Where da carwash at?”
Summer pointed to the building. He looked in that direction and nodded his approval. Then his eyes spotted Ann’s car. He smiled to himself, but didn’t say anything.
“You got a key to da building?” Summer asked.
“Yeah, I’ma go in and check it out.”
Summer nodded and then leaned further into the window. “Listen,” she said. “Ann may be in trouble about being with you last night. I’m tellin’ you so you can be on point jus’ in case her crazy-ass nigga comes back.”
Rodney listened but stared straight ahead, allowing everything she’d said to sink in and stick there.
He finally looked at Summer and said, “Dats a small thang.” Then he asked, “Where you goin’?”
“I’m finna go meet Danté. I’ll be back in probably an hour.”
He nodded. “I’ll be here.”
“See you later,” she said and walked toward her car to leave.
Rodney pulled around to the side of the building, got out, and examined the building. It was made of cinderblock and stucco. The front had a large Plexiglas window and a single glass door. Using his key, he unlocked the door, and upon entering, he pictured the front section being a waiting area furnished with a sofa set, a wall-mounted TV, and a soda machine in the corner. He also wanted the tiled floor to be covered with carpet. Further to the back, he pictured a small counter and a cash register on top of it. A small office was located behind the counter, just like in the salon next door.
He paused for a minute and strained his ears. Through the wall, he could hear music coming from the salon. It sounded like Mary J., but he wasn’t sure. He just knew the walls were thin. He glanced up toward the ceiling and thought about installing a ceiling fan or two.
Rodney’s mind was working now, wondering how much money could be made from the carwash. Better yet, if we turn it into a detail shop, we could make major paper, he thought.
Something banged against the wall and disrupted his thinking process. It sounded like someone was slamming a door. There was a scream. A woman’s voice. He focused his attention at the wall. Another bang. Then someone yelled, “Stop!”
He turned and ran next door. Inside the hair salon, some guy was destroying everything. He kicked over chairs and anything else in his way. Most of the women had frightened looks on their faces. Rodney looked around for Ann, but didn’t see her face in the crowd. The guy went to the door that led to the office and beat against it with a large, heavy fist.
“You betta come out, bitch!” he shouted.
Rodney eased up behind him while he was facing the door. He didn’t want to sneak him. He wanted to impress the women; he wanted to show his hand skills.
“Every thang you fuck up in here you gonna pay fo’ it.”
The guy spun around quickl
y. He stared at Rodney through red-veined eyes. Rodney saw fear in those eyes, also. Then the guy hawked up a lump of cold spit. Rodney felt he would try something stupid. So, he hit him with a right hook dead on his jawbone, cracking it. The guy, who stood almost 5’10”, fell to his knees in front of Rodney.
Rodney grabbed the back of his head and pulled it down, meeting his knee to the man’s nose. Blood poured from his face. Rodney knew he had an audience. His adrenaline was now rushing through his body; he was full of energy. He reached down, grabbed both of the guy’s ankles, and began pulling him toward the front door, leaving a trail of blood.
“You ain’t bad no more,” one female shouted.
When Rodney got him outside, he left him there and walked back inside. The women had already begun to clean up. Rodney knocked on the door and told Ann it was him. She opened the door with tears still in her eyes and her hands shaking nervously. Rodney drew her close, and she allowed her head to rest on his chest.
“I didn’t want you to get caught up in my problems,” she sobbed, her tears soaking through his t-shirt.
“Jus’ stop cryin’,” he whispered. “Everythang’s gonna be alright.”
Meanwhile, Danté and Summer had met up in the mall parking lot. He waited for her in a rented black Diamante that had South Carolina plates. They located each other by cell phone. She pulled her J-30 in the empty parking space beside him, got out, and quickly got in the passenger seat of the car he was driving. They leaned into one another and exchanged a friendly kiss. Her eyes were focused on his. The love was mutual between them.
Danté leaned over her and opened the glove compartment. In it was a small ring box. Already knowing what it was, Summer wasted no time flipping it open. A four-carat diamond set in platinum sparkled in her eyes. She almost lost her breath. Her eyes became teary, and she slowly looked at Danté.
“Do you wanna marry me?” he asked politely.
She covered her nose and mouth with her hand to hide her happiness. Her response was slow, but it was definitely a yes.
He placed the ring on her finger. “I wanted to do dis two years ago, but I wanted Rodney to be home to be the best man.”
“I love you,” she said as they hugged and held on to each other for ten minutes.
Chapter 17
The guy that Rodney beat up had been in the hospital for three days. His jaw was broken in two places, his mouth wired, and his nose fractured. His entire face was swollen; he was fed liquids through IV tubes and sometimes sipped from a straw. The worst part of it all was when his family came to visit him and thought they had the wrong room. “Who was he fightin’, Mike Tyson?” one of his cousins asked.
Monte lay out on his back; his eyes were so puffy he could barely see through them. There were over seven family members inside the room, and they were staring at Monte in disbelief; he just didn’t look the same. A hand touched his forehead and then someone else grabbed his right hand.
“Who did dis to you?” a deep voice asked him.
Monte couldn’t see the face, but he recognized the voice as his Uncle Ray. Monte wouldn’t talk. Not because he didn’t want to, but because it was painful. A tear fell from his left eye. Ray looked around at the rest of the family and eyed everyone in the room. Catching the look he’d shared, they all exited and stood in the hallway. After the door closed, he focused his attention back on Monte. He held his hand like he did when he was a young baby. Ray cleared his throat and leaned down to Monte’s ear and whispered to him.
“Is dat understood?”
Monte nodded his head to the last statement. He knew his uncle had a lot of pull all the way from New York to Miami. Ray had been to prison in the seventies himself. Word on the street is that he didn’t play any games. Even the family had heard rumors about him being a murderer, a contract killer, or something. But, he was a truck driver who stayed out of town most of the time. At least that’s what the family thought anyway. He never argued with anyone. He was just plain ole Uncle Ray to the family. Now he’d revealed his secret to his favorite nephew, the one who was a woman beater and the one who had got his ass whipped in front of several females. With his pride crushed, he would tell a lie to his uncle just to seek revenge. This would be a lie that would go to the grave with him.
Monte stared at the fuzzy image of his uncle. He noticed that Uncle Ray wore his salt and pepper hair brushed toward the back. Cherokee Indian ran in their family, and everyone had a good grade of hair. His eyes were sunk deep into his head, which made his forehead look bigger than its actual size. He never wore a beard or a mustache, and the only piece of jewelry he wore was a diamond ring on his left pinky finger. Monte remembered when he was young how he would always ask his uncle if he could wear it. And the answer had always been a simple no.
“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” Monte mumbled. He tried his damndest to speak, but the pain in his jaw just wouldn’t let him get his words.
“Shhh…” Uncle Ray said, while patting the back of his hand and slowly shaking his head.
*****
Danté carried Lil’ Danté on his back, basically around his neck. The twins were feeding the ducks in the pond at Pennington King Park. It was a nice day, and the beautiful Sunday evening brought damn near the whole Augusta outdoors.
Rodney stood next to Danté with his hands behind his back. He stared out across the park collecting his thoughts. He’d been home forty-three days now and was already worth close to one hundred grand. Danté had really showed him major love. Ann was staying with him now. Their relationship was alright, but he had been with two other women other than her. She didn’t care, though, because he always came home to her.
Rodney lit up a Newport, and a light wind carried the smoke away from Danté and his son. “I was jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’,” he said to Danté.
“What’s dat?”
“I wanna go on a cruise,” Rodney said, then pulled on his cigarette and blew out the smoke.
Danté laughed. “I’ma fuck wit’ Cancun fo’ our honeymoon.”
“Shiiid,” Rodney said. “I’m goin’, too.”
“Don’t say dat, Uncle Rodney,” Lil’ Danté said in a cheerful voice.
Rodney looked at his nephew. He had almost forgotten he was there. “You didn’t hear dat,” he told him.
“Yes, I did.”
“No, you didn’t.” Rodney flicked his cigarette butt about three feet away, grabbed Lil’ Danté up, and held him high above his head.
“Help me, Daddy,” he yelled, laughing.
Rodney pulled him in and began tickling him. Out of nowhere, the twins rushed him. They each took a leg and tried to help their younger brother. Rodney passed Danté his son and then wrestled both of the twins to the ground, where they rolled around playfully in the grass. This was good living for Rodney. He was well off and even thinking about having kids himself.
Later that night, Danté and Rodney exited the front entrance of a club called Escape on Deans Bridge Road. The parking lot was full, and cars crept every which way. Music blared from sound systems, and horns blew. One car after another, drivers flashed their high beams trying to fight the traffic.
Danté and Rodney’s cars were parked side by side, both of them backed in to the space. They stopped in front of Danté’s Lexus. Both men were tipsy. Rodney couldn’t really handle his liquor, but he was able to drive. His cell phone rang, but the music coming from a passing Suburban had drowned out the ringtone. They bobbed their heads to Outkast until the SUV had made it pass them. No more than twelve seconds later a shot rang out…then another and another. Then three more. Danté heard the first two. Rodney saw him go down, but he didn’t know what happened because he fell, also, his shirt soaked with blood.
“Bitch,” was the last word to escape the lips of Rodney’s now lifeless body.
Danté could see himself walking down the aisle with Summer, his future wife. It was over now; he died three minutes after Rodney and didn’t even have a clue why. Their wedding was four days
away. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t make it, and Rodney? Rodney had been a good brother to Summer. The obituary in the papers would say the two men were survived by this person and that person, but the majority of the pain and suffering would be felt by their closest loved one…Summer.
It was 3:35 a.m. when Summer received a call from a homicide detective. He told her what had happened, but didn’t go into details. The names were given to her, but she didn’t believe it. In fact, she thought somebody might have been playing some sort of cruel joke.
“I need you to come identify the bodies,” he told her.
When he said that, she started to take the detective seriously. Her heart began to race, and her hands were shaking like a leaf on a tree. She switched on the lamp that was on the nightstand. Lil’ Danté was sleeping next to her, but the stirring woke him. He looked up at his mother, his eyes stretched open, but he didn’t say anything.
Summer cleared her throat and knocked the covers completely off of her. Her bare feet slipped into a fuzzy pair of bedroom shoes.
“Are you there, Miss?” the detective asked.
“Where do I need to go?”
“University Hospital,” he replied. “Do you know where it is?”
Her answer came slow, but she did answer him. After she hung up, she quickly called Ann and told her everything the detective had told her. Summer heard her break down instantly. Then she told her to meet her at University Hospital. After ending the call, Summer dressed quickly, then gathered all three of her kids up and left.
Downtown at University Hospital, Ann stayed with the kids in a waiting room with comfortable chairs and a color television, while Summer was escorted down a long corridor by the same detective who she had spoken to earlier. He turned left and went into the second door on the right. Summer was on his heels. Her heart felt as if it were about to jump out of her chest. The room they entered smelled funny to her. It was bright, and the temperature felt like it was ten below zero.