The Fix 3

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The Fix 3 Page 3

by K'wan


  “No, it’s not that. I gotta go to Karen’s funeral in a little while and I don’t wanna show up high.” Persia half lied. It was true that she had to attend Karen’s funeral, but the real reason why she didn’t want to take a bump was because she knew that she wouldn’t be able to stop at just one. Drugs had always been Chucky’s way to control her and she promised no matter what she’d never give him that kind of power over her again.

  At the mention of Karen’s name a look crossed Chucky’s face that Persia couldn’t quite place. He slowly climbed off her and lay back on the bed. “Fuck you then.” He snorted the coke off his hand. “More for me.”

  Persia took that opportunity to start gathering her clothes and getting dressed as fast as she could.

  “What’s the rush? I figured we could fuck one more time before you go,” Chucky said, stroking his dick. The cocaine was already working its magic and he could feel it swelling.

  “I told you that I had to go to Karen’s funeral. I don’t want to be late,” Persia told him while stepping into her skirt.

  Chucky slithered off the bed and eased up behind Persia. “That bitch is dead, ain’t like she’ll notice if you’re a little late.” He pressed himself against her.

  Persia shoved him away. “Why don’t you show some respect for the dead? Karen might’ve had her bullshit with her but she was still my friend. You don’t have to mourn her loss, but at least you don’t have to be a dick about it, especially since you were fucking both of us at the same time.” She flipped her hair and turned to the fingerprinted, stained mirror on the wall to finish fixing herself up.

  Chucky moved so fast that Persia didn’t even have time to mount a defense. He grabbed her by the back of the head and forced her face against the wall. “Little bitch, you must’ve forgotten who the fuck you’re talking to!”

  “Stop, you’re hurting me,” Persia cried.

  “You’re lucky I ain’t killing you.” He added a little more pressure. “Now you’re gonna curb that fucking mouth of yours and remember who’s in charge; or have you forgotten what I’m in possession of and what it can do to your new little life?”

  Persia had tried to forget several times, but Chucky wouldn’t let her. It was her moment of drug-induced stupidity not so long ago that had her in her current bind. Persia had worked extremely hard to get Chucky out of her life and keep him out, but a damning piece of dirt he had on her allowed him to worm his way back in. One night when she was whacked out of her mind on crack Chucky had secretly videotaped her doing some shameful things. She hadn’t even remembered that particular night and wouldn’t have believed him had he not e-mailed her a clip of the video. Even as Persia watched herself on camera performing all kinds of sexual acts and doing drugs, she couldn’t believe it was her. Chucky had threatened to leak the tape if she didn’t go along with whatever scheme he was cooking up. Not only would the leaked tape be utterly embarrassing to Persia and her family, it could’ve done major damage to Vaughn’s professional image. The media would surely crucify the young football star for his affiliation with an ex-junkie. She couldn’t bear to do that to him or her family. To spare the people she cared about, Persia once again found herself a slave to the man she once loved.

  Persia hated Chucky for the hold he had over her, but she hated herself more for allowing herself to be put in such a position. Persia was so mad that tears welled in her eyes. She would’ve killed Chucky if she’d had access to a gun at that moment, but she didn’t. All she could do was suck it up and go along with whatever Chucky said until she could figure out a way to get rid of him once and for all.

  Chucky wiped away one of the tears rolling down her cheeks and tasted it. “Even when you trying to be sour, you’re still sweet.” He chuckled.

  “Chucky, why don’t you stop torturing me and just tell me what you want so we can end this?” Persia fumed.

  “I told you what I want.” Chucky stroked her cheek. “Revenge. One by one everybody who crossed me is going to feel my wrath, starting with you.” He pulled her skirt up.

  “What are you doing?” Persia tried to turn around, but Chucky held her against the wall.

  “Just giving you something pleasant to think about while you’re at the funeral boohooing over a skank bitch who didn’t give a shit about you anyhow.” He yanked her panties down. Chucky spat in his hand and rubbed it over his dick.

  “No, not in there. It’ll hurt,” she pleaded when she felt Chucky’s dick dancing near her anus.

  Chucky grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. “That’s the general idea.” He laughed before forcing his dick into Persia’s ass.

  CHAPTER 4

  After Chucky was done violating Persia he finally freed her to take her leave. Before dressing, again, she took a quick shower in the dirty bathroom. The bathroom was just as much of a mess as the rest of the house. The floor tiles were dirty, and the tub had a nasty ring around it. She had a good mind to jump in her clothes and run to the funeral as is, but she needed to wash away the mess that Chucky had made.

  Persia had never had anal sex before and her first time was even more horrible than she imagined. Vaginal sex with Chucky had always been a task for her because he was so well hung, but she was totally unprepared for the pain that awaited her when he entered through the back door. Chucky was brutal in his technique, jamming himself inside her instead of easing it in. Ignoring her cries he pumped himself in and out of her, stretching her asshole beyond its limits. At one point she thought she felt something tear. She had never felt so violated in her life and having her ass brutalized by Chucky only made her hate him more. If it was the last thing she did she would make him pay for everything he had done to her and then some.

  After washing the blood and semen from her legs and ass, Persia came back out into the bedroom to prepare for the funeral. She was pleased to see that Chucky was no longer in the room. She got dressed as fast as she could fearing that he would come back into the bedroom and make her fuck him again. Though Karen’s funeral was a sad occasion, it would at least allow her a few hours to be away from Chucky, which was a blessing.

  Persia came out of the bedroom and walked into the living room to find Chucky sitting around scheming with his two new minions, Maggie and her sister Rissa. Maggie was an older chick, even older than Chucky. She was a tall chick with chocolate skin, and thick black hair that stopped short of her shoulders. She was wearing a yellow halter top and tight-fitting black skirt that showcased a body that had once been firm and succulent, but was starting to sag slightly in certain places. Maggie had once been a looker, but hard drugs and harder living had started to take their tolls. From the time they’d first met it was obvious that Maggie didn’t like Persia. Part of it was because she knew that no matter how fucked up Chucky treated her, he still had a tender spot in his heart for his old boo. Persia not only represented a threat to her position with Chucky, but she was also a constant reminder to Maggie of what she used to be.

  Rissa was Maggie’s younger sister. Rissa was a cute girl who wasn’t much older than Persia. Unlike her bitch of a sister she was kind of cool and easy to talk to, at least when Chucky wasn’t paying attention. Persia always got the impression that Rissa didn’t totally agree with what Chucky and her sister were doing, but she dared not speak against them. She was an addict like her cohorts, but her habit hadn’t gotten to the point where Chucky’s and Maggie’s had. She was like Persia had once been, a chipper, someone who occasionally dabbled in hard drugs, but it would only be a matter of time before her occasional fixes became daily ones, especially keeping company with the likes of Chucky.

  The moment they noticed Persia in the living room their conversation stopped.

  “I’m leaving,” Persia announced.

  “Good riddance,” Maggie mumbled under her breath.

  Chucky cut his eyes at Maggie and silenced her. “About how long you think you gonna be?” he asked Persia.

  Persia gave him a look. “As long as I need to be. I’m g
oing to my best friend’s funeral, not running to the weed spot,” she said sarcastically.

  “Ain’t no need in getting smart. I’m just trying to make sure your priorities are in order. You know you got a date with our boy Mr. Tate tonight,” Chucky reminded her.

  “After what you put me through this morning the last thing I wanna do is be in the company of a man. Nah, after the funeral I’m going home to soak. I’ll call him after the funeral and cancel.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Chucky informed her. “You’re going to keep that date with our new potential meal ticket. I got big plans for that boy.”

  “Chucky, it’s bad enough that you got me out here playing myself, but I won’t pull Vaughn into this bullshit. He’s got nothing to do with it.”

  Chucky tapped a cigarette out of his pack of Newports and fired it up. “Persia, you might’ve missed the memo, but I’m making the rules in this little game. Now you’ve managed to snag the golden goose and I ain’t gonna sit by and watch you piss it away, even if you’re too damn stupid to realize what you got. Vaughn Tate can be our meal ticket for a long time to come, so you’re gonna do whatever you have to in order to keep him happy.”

  Persia rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Chucky.”

  “Fucking right it’s whatever I say. And in case you get any ideas about going off and doing what you wanna do anyhow, I’m gonna give Rissa the car and have her roll with you for the day,” Chucky told her.

  Rissa didn’t like it. “Chucky, how you just gonna volunteer me for some shit? This is your side chick, so why can’t you chauffer her around?”

  “For one, I’m hot as a firecracker on these New York streets. And, for two, because I told you to. Besides, I got some other shit I need to handle while y’all are doing that. Now stop asking so many fucking questions and put on something presentable and get your ass in gear.”

  “How much longer you gonna keep that bitch around?” Maggie asked from the couch where she had deposited herself when Persia and Rissa left.

  Chucky was sitting across from her in the armchair, using the bottom of a beer bottle to crush the crack rocks he had tucked in a folded dollar bill. “For as long as I say.” He flipped the dollar open, deemed the crack wasn’t ground fine enough, and went back to his crushing. “Why do you keep riding my back about Persia when I done already told your ass why we need to keep her close? I got plans for Persia.” He picked up the dollar and dumped the contents over a waiting pile of weed in an open cigar.

  “You and these damn plans. I’ll be glad when you come up with one that actually works.” Maggie rolled her eyes.

  “You roll them eyes at me again, and I’m gonna snatch them out your damn head,” Chucky warned while licking the ends of the cigar to close the blunt. He noticed he had some cocaine residue on his thumb and rubbed it over his gums. “And I don’t know why you sitting over there talking shit like I ain’t been taking good care of you and your sister since we been back in New York. Shit, it’s my money that been keeping your ass in drugs and whiskey for a week straight.”

  “You mean the old man’s money that you ripped off, with your thieving ass,” Maggie quipped.

  The old man she was referring to was Mr. D. Charlie had hipped Chucky to the old man and his bedroom safe after visiting the apartment with Li’l Monk. At the time Charlie had no idea Mr. D was mobbed up; he just saw a score. Knowing he couldn’t bring Li’l Monk in on the caper, Charlie turned to Chucky. It was supposed to be a simple robbery, but Chucky was high on coke and took things too far. The next thing anybody knew, Mr. D was dead and every mobster in the city was looking for his killer.

  Chucky’s head snapped up as if someone had just poked him with a hot iron. “What did I tell you about that mouth of yours? You know the walls have ears.”

  “Boy, bye, can’t nobody hear us in this slum-ass apartment but the roaches,” Maggie told him.

  “Shit, for enough money even the roaches will drop a dime on us behind killing that dago,” Chucky said, drying the coke blunt with his lighter.

  “If killing him could bring so much grief, why do it? We could’ve just robbed him and kept it moving,” Maggie pointed out.

  “Because I don’t believe in leaving anything to chance. That’s one killing don’t none of us want coming back on us, and as long as you did like I told you to we shouldn’t have to worry about it.”

  “You know I did. I went in and told the man with all the jewelry exactly what you told me to,” Maggie said proudly.

  “That’s my girl,” Chucky said, handing her the blunt and the lighter.

  When Chucky found out who it was that they’d killed in that apartment he knew it would only be a matter of time before the Italians put pressure on the streets to find out who did the old man. In order to keep it from coming back around to him, Chucky would need a fall guy. He could’ve pinned it on Charlie, but it wouldn’t take much pressure to get him to start talking, so he needed someone else. This is when he got the idea to kill two birds with one stone. Chucky had Maggie go and see Ramses, posing as an eyewitness to the crime, and fingered Li’l Monk as the person she saw leaving Mr. D’s apartment following the murder. After that, all Chucky had to do was sit back and watch the pieces fall into place.

  “One thing I don’t get.” Maggie put the blunt in her mouth and prepared to fire it up. “From what you say, you’ve got a ton of enemies in the city you could’ve put this on, so why the kid?”

  “I got my reasons,” Chucky said sinisterly. Chucky had never liked Li’l Monk, but he liked him even less when he had unwittingly exposed a skimming operation in Ramses’s crew, orchestrated by Chucky and executed by his best friend Benny. They had been skimming drugs right under Ramses’s nose and planning to become the new kings of the hill. Unfortunately for them, their plan was uncovered when Li’l Monk and his partner Omega foiled one of their robberies and killed the perpetrators. One of the shooters was traced back to Benny. Chucky, being Benny’s best friend, was naturally a suspect as well. By sheer luck Chucky was able to worm his way out of it, but fate wasn’t as kind to Benny. Ramses had Benny executed and Chucky demoted. Things went downhill from there and the next thing Chucky knew, he and Benny were out and Li’l Monk and Omega were in. He hated Li’l Monk for taking his spot, but he also held him responsible for Benny’s death. Chucky vowed one day that he would avenge his friend and settle the score with Li’l Monk.

  Chucky was brought out of his twisted little thoughts by Maggie handing the laced blunt to him in her limp hand. She had a spaced-out look in her eyes that let him know she was slipping into her zone and he needed to catch up. Chucky held the blunt at eye level, watching the cherry and the end crackle and spark from the crack-cocaine he’d married to the weed. It reminded him of his childhood when his mother had taken him to Coney Island to watch the fireworks. With this thought in his mind, Chucky put the blunt in his mouth and took a deep pull. The smoke rolled over his tongue and down into his lungs, leaving an icy numbness in its wake. A groovy feeling spread throughout Chucky’s body and crept up into his face. There was a slight popping noise in his ears and he heard faint trumpets playing “The Star-Spangled Banner.” He had officially entered the zone.

  Halfway through the laced blunt Chucky was too stuck to move. His head lolled back in ecstasy as he enjoyed the high. Chucky had only been in the chair for a few minutes but it felt like he’d been there for days. His face had gone completely numb and his eyes felt like he could see through walls. There was a tugging at his pants and he managed to compose himself enough to pick his head up and look down. At some point Maggie had crawled between his legs and was working to get his pants undone. She always got horny when she was high. Chucky started to swat her away until she managed to get his pants open and slipped his dick into her waiting mouth.

  Maggie took her time running her tongue up and down the sides of Chucky’s dick, pausing every so often to tickle the head of it. When it was good and slick she opened her throat and let his s
haft explore it.

  Chuck felt the head of his dick hit the back of Maggie’s throat just before a secret passage opened up and allowed him farther inside. When Maggie swallowed his whole cock and started tickling his balls with her tongue Chucky let out a slight gasp. It wasn’t the first blow job Maggie had given him, but that time seemed more passionate than the others.

  Slowly, Maggie removed Chucky from her mouth and began to stroke him tenderly, looking up at him with dreamy brown eyes. “How’s that feel?”

  “That feels real good, baby.” Chucky looked down at her with a silly grin plastered across his face.

  “I’ll bet.” Maggie flicked her tongue around the rim of his penis. “You know that young bitch can’t make you feel the way I do.” She grabbed his cock as if it was the handle of a sword and his balls the hilt, and began squeezing and yanking it, applying a slight amount of pressure. The mixture of pleasure and pain made him swell in her hands. Maggie dipped her head and took him in the back of her throat again. She bobbed up and down ferociously, letting his dick stab her tonsils to the point where she began gagging. Maggie took a minute to catch her breath before spitting on Chucky and repeating the process once more.

  “You’re playing dirty.” Chucky caressed the back of her head.

  “Nah, I’m just marking my territory.” Maggie gave him a little slurp before releasing his cock and standing up.

  Chucky sat in the chair watching Maggie as she wiggled out of the halter and tight skirt. Seeing her standing there in all her chocolate glory reminded Chucky of African art they used to sell on the Avenue. Maggie had big breasts with silver dollar–sized Hershey’s kisses for nipples, and they always seemed to be hard. She had a bit of a stomach and a few stretch marks, but the older woman was still stacked enough to entice any man with eyes.

  Maggie approached the chair Chucky was sitting in and threw one of her legs over the arm. She lowered herself far enough to where his dick grazed against her pussy, but not far enough to let him enter her. With one hand locked on the back of the chair and the other on Chucky’s lap, balancing herself over him, Maggie began swaying back and forth, letting her wet pussy brush over the shaft of his dick. Chucky tried to pull her down all the way, but Maggie resisted.

 

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