The Fix 3

by K'wan

  “Stop playing and let me hit that,” Chucky said anxiously.

  “You don’t want this old pussy, Chucky. Your nose is busted wide open for that young trim,” Maggie said playfully before easing away from the chair. Drugs had dulled her skills at most things, but she still knew how to seduce a man.

  Chucky grabbed Maggie’s waist and pulled her back. “I see you’re in a game-playing mood this morning. Well, let me show you how I like to play.” He pulled her down on his dick roughly.

  Maggie cried out as Chucky’s thick cock shoved the curtains of her sweet spot open and invited itself in for a look around. She braced herself against the chair so that he couldn’t shove it all in her at one time. Gradually she allowed him in, deeper and deeper still. When Maggie felt the jolt of electricity run up her spine, she knew he had hit her spot. This is when she settled in and did her work.

  By then the laced blunt had kicked all the way in and Chucky was fading in and out of himself. The only things he was aware of were that he was high and trying to go balls deep inside of what was feeling like the best shot of pussy he’d ever had. He locked one hand behind Maggie’s neck and the other at the small of her back and began stroking her. Maggie’s hole was warm and adhered to his dick with almost perfect suction. He could feel her clenching and unclenching her pussy muscles while she rode him. Chucky’s vision blurred momentarily and when it cleared he didn’t see Maggie riding him, but Persia. With his brain playing tricks on him Chucky thought he heard Persia’s mocking laughter. All he wanted to do was make her feel good and remember why she’d loved him, but she laughed at him and this angered Chucky.

  Maggie smiled when she felt Chucky pick her up out of the chair, with his dick still planted firmly in her. He was into it now and about to take her where she needed to be. She expected Chucky to pin her against a wall, or circle the room while stoking her, as was his norm, but she was surprised when he dropped her on the floor. Maggie banged her head on the ground and was momentarily dazed. When she looked up she saw Chucky descending on her with a strange look on his face. It wasn’t a look of passion, but one of rage.

  “You wanna laugh at me? Let’s see if you find this shit funny.” Chucky swooped in.

  Maggie was confused by his sudden change. “Chucky, what are you talking a—” Maggie began but her breath caught in her throat when Chucky entered her. His dick hit like a jackhammer when he plunged to the depths of her nether regions. He began stroking her viciously and grunting obscenities. “Baby, wait. You’re hurting me,” she tried to tell him, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. She looked into his eyes trying to see where his head was at, but Chucky had completely checked out.

  She managed to push him off her and tried to scramble across the floor, but Chucky was on her ass. He grabbed Maggie about the waist and pulled her back toward him. “Yeah, you running from this dick, huh? I’ll bet that football nigga don’t work your pussy like I do.” He forced her head to the floor and entered her from behind. He stoked her so hard Maggie felt like he was trying to liquefy her insides. A barrage of dirty words fell from Chucky’s mouth as he approached his climax. Just before he popped he pulled out and sprayed his seed all over Maggie’s back. Just as suddenly as Chucky’s madness had come it had gone, leaving him breathing heavily, leaning against the couch, and Maggie lying on the floor trying to figure out what had just happened.

  Chucky lay on the floor with his head resting against the couch, while he watched Maggie struggle painfully to pull herself into a sitting position. “Damn, that was some good shit, baby.”

  “Fuck you, Chucky,” Maggie spat. She touched her fingers to her pussy to make sure she wasn’t bleeding.

  Chucky gave her a look. “After the fucking I just put on you I’d think you’d be a little more appreciative. What the fuck is your problem?”

  Maggie’s eyes flashed with anger. “Nigga, you can’t be serious.” She climbed to her feet and limped toward the bathroom.

  Chucky got off the floor and went after her, grabbing Maggie’s arm when she was just shy of the bathroom door. “Girl, where the fuck is your head at this morning?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Maggie shot back.

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Chucky asked with a genuinely confused expression on his face.

  Maggie shook her head sadly. “That young bitch has got you so caught up that you don’t know whether you’re coming or going.”

  “You still got your panties in a bunch over Persia? I told you I go that under control,” Chucky told her.

  “So much under control that you don’t even know who you’re fucking?” Maggie snorted. “I hear that hot shit, Chucky. Let me lay some game on you; I didn’t let you drag me and my sister from Philadelphia to New York to have us die in the streets or go to prison because your head ain’t in the game no more. Since you brought your little girlfriend on board she’s been a liability. Do what you gotta do and get rid of the bitch.”

  Chucky felt like Maggie was trying to give him an order and he didn’t like it. “And what if I decide I wanna keep her around awhile longer?”

  “Then I’ll do what your tender-ass heart is keeping you from doing,” Maggie said seriously before disappearing into the bathroom.

  CHAPTER 5

  Even with the delay having to wait for Rissa to change, Persia still made good time getting to the funeral. She’d expected them to be riding in Chucky’s BMW, but instead they rode in a slightly dinged-up blue Buick that sported temporary plates in the rear window. According to Rissa it had been a gift to her from Chucky. Where a drug addict got the money for a car, even a used one, was a mystery to Persia, but it rode smooth and the radio worked so she wasn’t complaining.

  Rissa tried to make small talk with Persia on the ride over to break the awkward silence. Most of it revolved around Chucky. Her tone when she spoke of him reminded Persia eerily of how she sounded when she was caught up in his spell. From what Persia could tell Rissa was wise enough to know Chucky was a piece of shit, but she also had feelings for him. Persia was willing to bet that somewhere in the back of Rissa’s mind she thought that she could change Chucky. The poor girl had a hard lesson coming her way in the near future.

  Persia was surprised at the number of people who had turned out, especially considering that Karen wasn’t the most well-liked person in the neighborhood. Persia scanned the crowd for familiar faces. She didn’t want to go in alone. Standing off to the side smoking cigarettes were her old friends Meeka and Ty. Persia, Karen, Meeka, and Ty had been best friends until things went sour and the group had been divided. She and Karen had been enemies toward the end, but she was still taking her death hard and could only imagine what Meeka and Ty were going through, especially Ty.

  “Chucky order you to come inside with me, too?” Persia asked Rissa sarcastically.

  “Yeah, but I think I’ll pass. I didn’t know her so I don’t think it’d be appropriate,” Rissa lied. She might not have known Karen, but she had seen her before. Rissa had been there the day Chucky tracked Karen down and killed her. Chucky beat Karen like a dog before raping her over and over. His assault on her was so vicious that Rissa was actually relieved when Chucky finally killed her. He’d left Karen’s body to rot in the apartment but it had been Rissa who secretly called the police to tell them where they could find the body. That day constantly haunted her and seeing Karen in the casket would be nothing but a grim reminder of how little Rissa had done to try to stop what had happened to her.

  “Cool. I guess I’ll see you when I come out.” Persia slid from the car and joined the crowd on the curb.

  Ty spotted Persia first. She was an itty bitty thing with dark skin and short hair. She looked like a little girl on her way to church in her floral dress and patent leather shoes. She threw her frail arms open and pulled Persia in for a hug. “What’s good, P?” she greeted Persia in her squeaky voice.

  “Missing your little ass. Are you staying out of trouble?” Persia asked with a smi
le.

  “I’d be lying if I told you that I was, but I’m doing better than most,” Ty said.

  Persia looked over at Meeka who had been staring at her the whole time she spoke with Ty. You could almost feel the tension in the air. When Persia and Karen were beefing it split their group. Ty never really picked a side. She stopped hanging with Persia to keep Karen from getting mad at her, but Ty would still speak to Persia when she saw her in the streets, and even called to check on her while she was in rehab. Meeka sided with Karen. Though she too still spoke to Persia when they saw each other in the streets, there never seemed to be any love in her tone. It was like she was speaking more out of being civil than actually wanting to keep ties with Persia. Meeka and Karen had always been closer than any of the others, so Persia kind of expected it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. The girls were like the sisters she never had and losing their friendship was almost as painful as kicking her addiction had been.

  The awkward silence lingered for a few moments longer before Persia decided to be the bigger person and speak first. “Listen, Meeka—” Persia began, but Meeka cut her off when she grabbed Persia in a tight embrace. The sobs Persia could feel racking Meeka’s body as she buried her head in her chest said what her mouth couldn’t. In light of why they were all there, the beef between the two girls was unimportant.

  “She’s gone, P. They took our girl,” Meeka finally managed to get out between sobs.

  “I know.” Persia rubbed her back. “I know.” Meeka had always been the most emotionally removed of the group so it was strange seeing her so broken up.

  After a few moments Meeka was finally able to compose herself. “So, how’s recovery been treating you?”

  “It’s a pain in the ass. Everything that I used to love to do is now ‘bad for me.’” Persia made air quotations with her fingers.

  “Even weed?” Ty asked.

  “Especially weed,” Persia confirmed. “My counselors say it’s a gateway to heavier shit.”

  Ty shook her head sadly. “That sucks. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t smoke chronic. How can you stand it?”

  “It’s really not that bad. I mean, at first I missed getting blazed but after a while it got easier. Since I been clean and sober I been able to focus on more important things like school,” Persia told her.

  “I hear you’re leaving for college soon,” Meeka said.

  “God willing, I’ll be enrolled in somebody’s university next year. Being that I took some time off I won’t get my diploma until January so it kinda put me behind schedule,” Persia said.

  “Don’t matter if you get there late, so long as you get there,” Ty said.

  “Amen to that,” Meeka chimed in. “You know, Persia, I’m glad to see you’re doing good again. You know there was a time when some of us thought . . .” She let her words trail off.

  “Yeah, me too, Meeka, but it’s gonna take more than a crack habit to take me out of the game,” Persia joked. It was the first time the three of them had laughed together in a while and for a minute it felt like old times.

  “So, when is the last time you saw Chucky?” Ty asked, unintentionally darkening the mood.

  “I haven’t seen him since the night he left me for dead,” Persia lied.

  “Good riddance,” Meeka spat. “I was never a fan of his. A nigga that handsome always comes with baggage.”

  “Is that why all the dudes you fuck are butt ugly?” Ty asked with a smirk.

  “Fuck you,” Meeka said playfully.

  “Persia, can I ask you something?” Ty suddenly became serious.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Well, I don’t mean to pry and you can tell me to mind my fucking business if you don’t want to answer.” Ty was trying ease into it.

  “Girl, just ask the fucking question!” Meeka snapped. She knew what Ty wanted to ask and was a bit curious herself.

  “Okay, okay.” Ty rolled her eyes at Meeka. “Persia, we all heard about what happened, you know, when Chucky left you in the house.” She shook her head sadly. “All them people ended up dead because of Chucky’s snake ass, but you survived. I . . . we”—she glanced at Meeka—“were just wondering how you got away.”

  Persia took a few moments before answering. That night was still somewhat of a sensitive subject. “Honestly? I have no idea.” Persia absently ran her hand up and down her arm as she recalled the night. Chucky had them held up at his aunt and uncle’s place in Mount Vernon while he plotted their next move. Chucky was running the streets doing God only knew what and had left Persia at the house. She had been high out of her mind on crack when the men came looking for Chucky to hand down the death sentence that had been passed on him. When they couldn’t find Chucky, everyone in the house was made to pay for his crimes. “I can remember hearing the most terrible screams as all those people were cut down like dogs, and thinking how I didn’t want to die in a crack house.”

  “So what happened?” Meeka asked.

  Persia shrugged. “God stepped in. One minute I’m fleeing for my life out of a second-story bathroom window and the next I wake up in the hospital in more pain than I would’ve thought humanly possible. I was in bad shape when they brought me in. Apparently I had fallen, broken a few bones, cracked my skull, and had some internal bleeding. They wasn’t sure if I would make it, but through some miracle I lived.”

  “How did you get to the hospital?” Ty asked.

  “That’s the craziest part of the story. According to the doctors a man brought me into the emergency room unconscious and half dead. He waited until they stabilized me then disappeared. The police searched high and low, but my savior vanished without a trace. It’s like he never existed, but the fact that I’m here to tell the story says that he did. I hope to find him one day so I can thank him for giving me a second chance.”

  “Damn, you’re one lucky bitch!” Ty said.

  “Nah, I’m not lucky. I’m blessed,” Persia said seriously.

  “Well, we’re glad you didn’t cash out,” Meeka said, giving her a hug.

  “Me too.” Persia laughed.

  “Is that Meeka over there?” someone called. A chubby young man with thick glasses came ambling over. He adjusted his frames to make sure he had the right woman. “What’s good, baby sis?”

  “Hey, Boogie.” Meeka greeted him with a hug. Boogie was short for Boogie Blind, a nickname he had acquired because of his poor eyesight. “What you doing here?”

  “I came to pay my respects,” Boogie said, hiking his oversized jeans up so that his boxers weren’t showing.

  “I didn’t even know you knew Karen,” Meeka said.

  “I knew her in passing, but her mother and my mother go back a taste. Mama-love insisted on coming so I rolled too to support her,” Boogie said.

  “Boogie, you know it always fucks me up how you run around like the hardest niggas in the streets, but you’re really a mama’s boy,” Meeka teased him.

  “You only get one mother in life, Meeka. Never forget that.” Boogie pointed the water bottle he was holding at her for emphasis.

  “What’s in the bottle, Boogie? I know it ain’t no water.” Ty eyeballed the slightly murky liquid in the bottle.

  Boogie gave the bottle a shake and smirked. “This here is grown folk’s business.”

  “Well shit, I can use something to take the edge off right about now. Let your girl get a sip.” Ty reached for the bottle, but Boogie moved it away.

  “Shorty, this ain’t no liquor. What I got in this bottle might take you on a trip you can’t come back from and I don’t want that on my conscience,” Boogie warned. Just then his eyes landed on Persia as if he was noticing her for the first time. “Yo, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  “You probably seen Persia around the neighborhood. She used to run with us and Karen,” Meeka answered for her.

  “Nah, that ain’t where I remember her face from.” Boogie tapped his chin. Then it hit him. “I think I saw you in one of t
hem gossip papers or something. Might’ve been the Enquirer.”

  “Boogie, you don’t strike me as the type who reads those types of things,” Ty said.

  Boogie shrugged. “My moms always gets them from the supermarket and leaves them in the bathroom. The articles are mostly bullshit, but it makes for good reading when you’re taking a dump. If I remember, you’re that football nigga’s girlfriend, right?”

  “No, Vaughn and I are just friends,” Persia corrected him.

  “Well I wish I had your kinda friends. I hear that boy just signed for like $80 million!”

  $16 million. Persia wanted to correct him, but instead just shrugged as if she didn’t know.

  “Stop acting like a groupie, Boogie,” Meeka scolded him.

  “Hey, ain’t every day I get to stand next to the girlfriend of a celebrity,” Boogie said honestly.

  “I’m not his . . . You know what, never mind.” Persia sighed.

  “Bernard, bring your ass on!” An older woman wearing a large church hat called from the funeral home doorway.

  “I’m coming, Ma,” Boogie called back with an attitude. He hated when people called him by his government name. “Let me get up in here before this old bird makes me show my ass out here. You coming through later, Meeka? Christian has got a birthday coming up so we gonna do something for him at the spot tonight.”

  “That sounds like a plan. I’m gonna hang on the block for a while in case Karen’s mom needs me to do something, but I’ll slide through the spot later tonight.”

  “That’s a bet. If she ain’t doing nothing”—Boogie thumbed at Persia—“bring the celebrity with you, too. I’m gone.” He saluted Meeka and went to escort his mother inside.