Dream Weaver

by Nene Capri

  “You know yo’ ass is wrong to bitch.” Jocelyn pointed her finger in Chyna’s face.

  Chyna moved her hand and went in. “You must have lost your mind. Fuck is wrong with you?” She moved forward.

  “Nothing is wrong with me, but it’s a whole lot wrong with you. I know you are hearing the rumors, just like us. You know that nigga killed Devon. Now Trion is missing, and you just laying up playing step-daddy with this cruddy-ass nigga.” Jocelyn moved closer to Chyna.

  “I don’t know shit. People can say what they want, but you ain’t see shit. Just like I ain’t see shit.”

  “I guess you can’t see shit with that nigga standing in front of you with his dick in your mouth.”

  “Fuck you!” Chyna punched Jocelyn in the face.

  “Oh shit,” Leena yelled out as she tried to get across the crowded street, dragging Kenyatta with her.

  The two women tussled around on a nearby car, grabbing hair and firing off death threats. A crowd that was standing nearby zoomed in and surrounded the two, snapping pictures and chanting “Whip her ass.”

  Leena and Kenyatta pushed through the crowd. “Don’t do this!” Leena grabbed Chyna, and Kenyatta grabbed at Jocelyn.

  “Fuck her. This bitch ain’t family no more. She fucking all outside the squad, and she know that nigga Dream is dirty!” Jocelyn yelled.

  “Like I said, I don’t know shit. But while you talking, let’s not forget how you earned your spot on the squad!” Chyna yelled back.

  Jocelyn paused, breathing heavily.

  “Yeah, I know all about it, bitch. I know Devon and Derrick been fucking all you ho’s.” She pulled away from Leena and fixed her shirt. “Yeah, the code, right?” She made air quotes with her fingers. “Yeah, they fucked all y’all in, and now you want me to feel sorry for them niggas. Fuck them niggas.” She spit blood at Jocelyn’s feet. “And you sad about Trion? You wasn’t sad enough to not have your nigga bumping dicks with the next man. So kiss my ass.” Chyna turned to walk to her vehicle.

  “You ain’t shit. And you mark my words, bitch, you gonna be next!” Jocelyn screamed at her back and then lunged at her.

  Leena and Kenyatta pulled at her arms, holding her in place.

  “Not if they get yo’ sorry ass first!” Chyna screamed back, slamming her car door and speeding out of the parking lot, sticking her middle finger up on the way by.

  “This shit is crazy. We can’t turn on each other,” Kenyatta tried to reason with Jocelyn.

  Jocelyn wiped at the blood on her lip as her chest heaved up and down. “It’s too late for that. That grimy bitch just served us all up to the highest bidder.” She shook her head. “Take me home, please,” she requested as she looked at the blood on her knuckles.

  “We have to stick together. Don’t start cracking now,” Kenyatta tried her hand at logic.

  “I’m done with all this shit,” Jocelyn walked off.

  Leena and Kenyatta looked at each other. Kenyatta tightened her jaws and shook her head. She knew shit was going to get a whole lot worse before it got any better.

  When they got to Leena’s truck, she retrieved a bottle of water from the backseat and helped Jocelyn clean her hands and face. They all hopped in and sped off.

  Dream lit up a blunt as he sat in the cut watching the rats eat each other alive. He could have left them all alone, but mercy was not even in his vocabulary. Those two niggas had crossed him, and he was going to use whatever he had to make them feel his pain.

  He sat for a minute and then headed to Chyna’s apartment. She had just proven she would ride for him, and he knew she would be weak. He needed to weave the right dream to keep her on his team until the last man fell.

  Chyna walked into her apartment, and before she could turn on the lights she burst into tears. Her hands shook as she placed her keys on the table. Chyna hurried to the bathroom and slammed the door. She sat on the edge of the tub and cried from the pit of her belly. “Oh God, how did I get here?” she wailed out, hugging her self tightly. She rocked back and forth as she thought about how she had just sold her soul.

  When Chyna released the last tear, she felt deflated. She turned around and ran a hot tub of water, stripped out of her soiled garments, and sank down into the steamy water. The heat burned her skin, and she allowed it. She felt like she deserved the pain. Chyna picked up her cloth and began to scrub her skin. She wanted to erase her past, she wanted to erase the present. Truth be told, she wanted to erase her future. Tears fell again from her eyes as she rubbed back and forth on her arms, chest, and neck, making her skin red and damn near raw. She was getting ready to start on her legs when she heard keys turning in the door.

  Dream moved through the dark living room and toward the light seeping under the bathroom door. He turned the knob and pushed on the locked door.

  Chyna jumped. “Just a minute.” She pushed herself up out of the water and grabbed her towel. Chyna took a few deep breaths and then opened the door. When her eyes met his, she dropped her gaze and turned away.

  Dream entered the bathroom and closed the door. Chyna’s heart sank to her stomach. She replayed what happened at the club and became sick again. The silence and intense stare he was giving her caused tiny chill bumps to form all over her body. Dream moved a little closer to her and rested his hand on her shoulder. Chyna jumped and put her hand up to her face to cover her shame.

  “It’s all right, ma. I’m sorry about earlier. Daddy just wanted to feel the freak in you,” he said as he lifted her chin to face him. “Let me make it up to you.” He leaned in and kissed her lips gently.

  “I don’t want to hurt, Dream. I didn’t deserve that,” she responded. She wanted to say more, but the sweet taste of his tongue as it slipped between her lips and into her mouth stopped her.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, baby,” he whispered as his hands roamed over her breasts. “Let me fix you, baby.” Dream spoke softly, removing her towel.

  Chyna shivered as the towel fell to her feet. She looked up into Dream’s face, wanting him to understand all of her pain.

  Dream drank up her innocence and then began to devour her flesh. He nibbled and sucked her neck and breasts. She moaned as every touch set her body on fire. He pulled her close and backed out the bathroom with her firm in his grip.

  Chyna tilted her head back and released all anger as pleasure consumed her mind and moistened that sweet spot between her thighs. She gripped his strong arms and let him take control of every second of her existence.

  “I got you, Chyna. Just be mine, and I’ll erase all your fear and all your pain.” He eased her back onto the bed and stared at her sexy brown frame.

  Dream stripped off each piece of clothing, then laid between her smooth thighs. He gave her hungry kisses as he slid that steel deep and stroked with accuracy to the beat of each breath that left her lips. Chyna held on tight, putting her head against his chest. She ran the tip of her tongue along his scar and then sucked gently on his neck and shoulders as her passion reached its height with every slippery push. Dream hissed as her pussy muscles grabbed his dick and held him tight.

  “Dream, go deeper,” she cried out, and he complied, bringing his dick to the tip and then pushing in slow and deep. “Just like that.” She forced her head back into the pillow.

  “How deep you want this dick, baby?” he moaned, forcing every inch inside of her.

  Chyna closed her eyes tight, sinking her nails into his shoulders. “Very deep,” she panted, rotating her waist and taking in all he had to offer.

  “It’s just me and you, Chyna. I got you,” he comforted as he rolled over, pulling her on top of him.

  “Yes, and I got you, Dream,” she rocked up and down on his stiff pole, searching for her spot.

  Chyna sat straight up and placed her legs over his shoulders. She threw her head back and bounced on that dick until she felt her stomach quack.

  “That’s right, cum for daddy,” he moaned.

  “Ahh…” She stared into his
eyes as she moved gracefully.

  “You gotta trust me. You gotta be all mine.”

  “Yes…I can be all yours.”

  “It’s just me and you baby, just me and you.” He watched his dick slide between her soft pink lips.

  “I’m all yours, Dream. I’ll give you whatever you want,” she assured him as she rode, pelvis to pelvis, soaking every inch of him.

  Dream held her waist, causing her to glide easily back and forth. Slippery wet and filled with dick and emotion, Chyna came and cried out as she confirmed her allegiance to Dream. “Whatever you need,” she yelled out as she came and then fell back.

  Dream lifted her off of his dick and pulled her wet kitty to his mouth, He sucked her clit until she coated his mouth with her warm, sticky essence. Chyna squirmed to be free. She gripped the sheets tightly and pressed her other palm against his forehead, but Dream kept sucking. Chyna’s body shook as he slid his juicy tongue between her lips, kissing and lightly nibbling along the way.

  “No matter what. You gotta have my back.” He lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

  Chyna struggled to see him through the slits and euphoria. “Always,” she whispered as her body jerked to his every touch.

  Dream was giving her a serious gaze, but on the inside he was laughing in her face. There was no chance in hell he was catching feelings for a bitch who would lay with her man’s killer. He didn’t need to say another word. He had her mind, he had her body, and now he had her heart. Once she revealed everything, he needed to know, he was planning on having her life.

  Chapter 5 - Getting Hot…

  “I can't find that nigga nowhere,” Trigga announced, taking a seat on a high-backed chair in the corner of Dream’s Office.

  Dream put his hand under his chin and stared off at the wall. “Where that nigga from?”

  “I think he’s from Georgia or some shit,” Trigga said as if the words were nasty in his mouth.

  Again Dream stroked his chin and stared off. Dream got a gleam in his eye when it hit him that he had a connect down there. He picked up the phone and dialed his man, Sherm. He had the A on lock, nothing came or went without his knowledge and permission.

  “Hello,” Sherm answered in a deep, relaxed tone.

  “‘Sup, my nigga?” Dream said.

  “Nothing really. What's good with you?”

  “Just trying to handle some shit. I called to request entry in your city. My business has fallen into your backyard, and I need to clean it up,” Dream spoke direct.

  “You know I'm a reasonable man.” Sherm swiveled in his chair.

  “Is this weekend good?” Dream asked as he rose from his chair.

  “Yeah, just gimme a call when you get to the city,” Sherm said and disconnected the call.

  Dream looked over at Trigga. “We about to flip that nigga’s switch.”

  “Yes sir. That nigga think we playin’,” Trigga spat with deep wrinkles in his forehead.

  Sherm put his cell on his desk and folded his hands on his chest.

  Tate picked up on the mood. “You trust this New York nigga?” Tate asked from his chair behind Sherm’s desk.

  “I’ma see what the nigga’s talking about, then you know the rest,” Sherm said as his plan turned over in his head.

  The rest of the week proved to turn up the same leads. Either no one had seen him or no one was talking, therefore when Saturday rolled around the team was ready to make the trip. Dream, Larue, and Trigga moved through Atlanta airport and out of the North terminal, each toting a small, black carryon bag. They took in some of that Atlanta heat and hopped on a shuttle to Enterprise. The three loaded into the Lincoln MLK and headed to College Park.

  Dream eyed the landscape of the city as he hopped from one highway to the other. There was something about being in the south—with big trees and fresh air—that just put his mind at ease. He took a minute to enjoy the peace, because from that moment on, the hunt was going to be bloody and without mercy.

  Once Dream and his team were checked into their motel, he called Tate and told him he was in the city. Tate informed him that a car would pick them up at 10:00 p.m. and to be on time. The team settled in, ordered a meal, and kicked back. Dream put in a call to one of his boys out in Gresham and had him to deliver some heat. By 9:00 they were suited and booted and ready for the meet. They assembled in the lobby at 9:45 and waited.

  “Y’all let me do all the talking. You are there to observe. We in this man’s house, so be easy,” Dream instructed.

  “Got you,” Trigga co-signed, and Larue just shook his head in agreement.

  Dream looked down at his watch and then looked out of the large, glass window. When he saw a big black truck, he waved at Trigga and Larue and headed outside. Trigga followed closely, and Larue stepped hard behind him. The door to the truck came open, and the driver nodded them inside. Trigga and Larue stepped in the back and closed the door, and Dream hopped up front.

  Trigga fidgeted in his seat at the idea of not knowing these niggas and not knowing where they were going. To top it off, there were two niggas sitting in the row behind them. They were quiet and wore the look of death. The only thing that kept his temper in check was knowing that Dream had never led him wrong. With that thought, he tried to relax and settle in his seat for the ride. Larue was battling the same war in his head, but he trusted Dream too. He only trusted Dream, therefore anybody outside of that could get it.

  Dream rode real comfortable. He knew what type of dude Sherm was, so his mind was at ease. His heart was jumping in his chest, knowing he was closer to Derrick. Sherm’s driver pulled into the back lot of the meeting location and parked close to the door. When Dream’s feet hit the ground, his eyes moved around the parking lot. There were two other trucks parked close to the door, with a man posted behind each wheel. There were several guys posted up around the door, and a few guys on the roof.

  “This nigga ain’t playin’,” Dream mumbled to himself as he followed the driver up to the door.

  Trigga and Larue walked behind Dream, checking the scenery and trying not to question his judgment. When they stepped into the open area, Dream checked out the setup. There were about fifty slot machines, several poker tables, roulette, black jack tables, and Texas Hold ‘Em tables. Sherm had the place topped off with two full bars and three dice tables. Things had to be on point, because the place was packed. Dream was running the gambling rooms in his city the same as Sherm was, but he had to admit, Sherm had things way more organized and high-tech.

  The three of them were frisked, and their weapons were collected. “You can have these back on your way out.” The tall, pitch-black security officer said as he eyed them intensely.

  Trigga’s nostrils flared as he watched his gun being tucked into a bag and put to the side. He looked up at the security guard, and his lips tightened. Dreamed sensed the tension and turned to face Trigga. He raised an eyebrow at him and turned back to face the guard.

  “Which way?” Dream asked, resting his hands at his side.

  “Through the metal detector, then go over to that door. He will let you in.” Zoom pointed across the bar and waved them past.

  Dream, Trigga and Larue walked swift, carefully eyeing all the happenings. Bets being placed, liquor in every hand and plenty of sexy birds flocking to quench a man’s desires. When they got to the door they were patted down again then led inside.

  Dream entered the room and was in awe of the security system and monitors Sherm had in place. There were eyes everywhere; a nigga couldn’t take a piss in private. He had people watching the monitors, and then he had people watching them. Sherm looked up from the screens and greeted Dream and his partners.

  “What’s good with you, y’all all right?” he asked, extending his hand to Dream.

  “Yeah, we straight,” Dream responded, shaking his hand. “This is my boy Trigga, and that’s Larue.”

  “That’s what’s up. Welcome to city. Have a seat,” Sherm instructed in his thick, Atlant
a drawl as he moved to his desk. Each man took a seat. “So, what can I do for you?” Sherm asked, taking his seat like it was a position on a throne.

  “First, thank you for seeing me on short notice. Second, I know this problem I have is my own, but knowing how you move, I didn’t want to be bumping around in your city without coming to see you first.” Dream paused and sat back, waiting for his response.

  “I appreciate the respect. Give me some details,” Sherm responded.

  “We got this nigga who hit one of my spots and killed my boy in the process. I got Intel that he may have fled back down here. I need to get at this nigga, real bad.” Dream’s jaw tightened as he brought back the memories of that night.

  “What’s the nigga name?”

  “Derrick White.”

  Sherm looked over at Tate and anxious energy filled his gut. “You hear that, Tate?” Sherm asked his right-hand man.

  “Yeah, I hear that shit,” Tate said as a slight smile turned up the right side of his mouth.

  “Y’all know this nigga?” Dream reluctantly asked, fearing that he may be a part of their team. Trigga and Larue looked over at each other.

  “Know him? Sheeiiit… I been trying to catch up to this nigga for the last three months. He tried that same fuck shit at one of my spots, but he didn’t get the bank. However, some people did get hurt. Don’t worry, I know where his people be.” Sherm divided his attention between the screens and the conversation. “I’ll put somebody on it.”

  “I know this is your city, but I need to be in on this.” Dream sat forward.

  “Oh, don’t worry, you will do the hunting. I will give you three of my best. Y’all hit me as soon as you have that nigga. I need to be a part of the last vision he takes with him to hell.”

  “Fair enough.” Dream rose to his feet and extended his hand. Sherm stood up and sealed the deal with a shake. Dream reached in his vest and pulled out a thick, white envelope and handed it to Sherm.

  “Oh, nah, I’m good. Use that for the hunt or play some of them tables. Just remember, when I come to you for a favor, I want the same respect,” Sherm stated, locking eyes with Dream.