Dream Weaver

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Dream Weaver Page 7

by Nene Capri


  Dream turned the knob and fell out the closet onto the hardwood floor. He slithered through the pain, determined to get to her side. Again he tried to call to her, but his words would only get caught in his throat. When his eyes settled on his dad, he shook his little head and put his forehead to the cold kitchen floor. Dream raised his gaze and saw his mother’s hand. Dream’s heart filled with rage, and his own pain momentarily disappeared. He crawled to his mother and cradled her head in his lap. Warm tears rained down his face onto his mother’s brow. Her blood-soaked mouth frightened him, but he didn’t dare look away. He wanted it etched in his mind. He looked back and forth, from his father to his mother, in disbelief. Then he saw his father’s friends. Their contorted bodies laid around him, lifeless. Dream carefully engraved the night in his mind, and revenge settled in his heart.

  “What can I do for you?” the gas attendant asked through his truck window, snapping Dream out his reverie.

  Dream looked around like he was lost. He reached over, lowered the window, and handed the man a $50. “Fill it up, super,” he said and turned the car off.

  Dream stepped out the car and took in some air, rubbing his hands over his face. He needed to find this nigga and get this shit over with. He was ready to bury all memories and the enemy’s attached to them. He hopped back in the truck and prepared to make another trip to Atlanta. This time he was going to smoke that rat right out of his hole.

  Chapter 12 - Air Waves

  “I got it,” Chyna said as she moved Dream to the side and stuck her key in the door.

  “Push me again.”

  “Push you again and what?” She tried to get frisky with him.

  “Play with it if you want to,” Dream shot back.

  “I want to play with it.” She grabbed him around the back of his neck and pulled his lips to hers.

  Dream gave in to her advancement; moved forward, kicked the door closed, and walked her back to the couch. Chyna dropped her phone and keys on the table and gripped Dream firmly in her hands. Dream pressed that steel against her clit, slowly rocking as he took her tongue into his mouth.

  “You still want to play with it?” He reached down and released the beast from his cage.

  “Yes…” she pulled her panties off and lifted her skirt above her waist.

  “Let’s play hide and seek with it.” Dream bit into her throat and sucked gently. He placed the head right at her opening, and he could hear her lips calling for him. Chyna pushed toward him, ready to receive his force, and then her phone went off. It was that unmistakable ring tone.

  “That’s him,” she jumped and grabbed at the phone.

  “Derrick?” Dream mouthed.

  Chyna nodded as she hit the call button. “Hello,” she answered.

  “Hey, my lady.”

  “Oh my god, where are you?” She feigned excitement.

  “I’m safe for now. You okay?”

  “I’m okay for now.” She got quiet.

  Dream took his phone from his pocket, typed, and turned it to face her.

  Play that nigga, she read as she tried to listen to Derrick.

  “Baby, I need to see you,” she pouted.

  Dream nodded in agreement and typed something else. Chyna read and repeated everything Dream showed her, then paused. She was feeling the weight of her actions, and her heart became so heavy. She could feel Derrick wanting to reach through the phone and hug her.

  “When can I see you?”

  “In about a week or so. I’ll call you with a time and place as soon as I know it’s safe,” he said, knowing that seeing him alive may have only been a fantasy.

  Dream put his phone down and towered back over her, opening her legs wide. Chyna shook her head, but Dream was in his glory. He needed to steel that nigga’s heart.

  “Tell him to fuck you,” Dream whispered in her ear.

  Chyna again shook her head no.

  “Tell him you need him to fuck you,” he whispered again as he slid in slow.

  Chyna took in a little air and said the words as she was instructed. “I need you to fuck me,” she moaned in the phone.

  “I need to be able to fuck you, baby,” Derrick replied, holding his stiffening dick and remembering how good and wet she felt when she came.

  “Fuck me now,” she whined as Dream picked up the pace, sending chills through her body.

  Derrick was asking her questions, but the only answers she had were slippery wet all over Dream’s thickness. “Cum on this dick, ma,” Dream whispered in one ear.

  “Cum for me, baby,” Derrick spoke into the other.

  “I’ma cum for you baby,” she panted. Chyna was caught in a whirlwind of passion as she felt her leg tremble.

  “Say my name, baby,” Dream chanted softly in her ear.

  She shook her head as the orgasm took her to the next level.

  “Say it…Say it…” he repeated, stroking her spot just right.

  Chyna closed her eyes and said the words he wanted to hear. “Dreaamm…” she whispered.

  Dream looked in her eyes as she inhaled and released.

  Chyna felt the sentiment in Derrick’s silence, and tears ran from the corners of her eyes. She heard Derrick say, “I love...”

  Dream shook his head no as he pushed in deep and stroked fast, causing her to heat up.

  Chyna fought with the feelings to say it back, and the only words that left her lips were, “I know,” she whined as Dream pumped her spot just right.

  “I gotta go,” she sniffled.

  “See you soon, baby,” he said, not wanting to let her go.

  Chyna ended the call and rotated her hips to make Dream feel every curve. She wanted to feel guilt of her actions but his dick had other plans.. Chyna held on tight breathing heavily in his ear pushing her wet pussy into his every thrust. Dream hit that spot a few more times and made her cum with him.

  “That’s grown man shit right there. Play with it if you want to.” He rose up and pulled his pants to his waist. “Come hook me up something to eat real quick, you owe me.” He took her by the hand, pulling her to her feet.

  “You owe me,” she said, wiping her eyes.

  Dream smacked her on the ass. “I’ma pay you too,” he followed her to the back.

  Chyna led the way, dropping the smile from her face as pieces of her heart chipped away, thinking about how she was hurting Derrick. She was only hoping that he would be able to forgive her. Dream walked close behind her with pride pumping in his veins. He was smoking that nigga out, and he knew that all he needed was to be a little more patient. By the time he finished playing with this nigga’s head, he would turn his own self over.

  Chapter 13 - The Block is Hot

  Dream, Trigga, and Larue pulled up to an old house in Riverdale, Georgia. The windows seemed to be blackened out, and there was no motion. Dream put the car in park, and they prepared to get out the vehicle. Each man moved stealthily in a different direction. Trigga went around back, Larue moved to the other side, and Dream positioned himself on the front porch and tried to see through the small flicker of a television.

  Dream turned the knob and heard the scurry of feet and a growl. He heard barking, and his whole plan had to change. “Shit,” he cussed loudly, causing Larue to come running his way.

  “What the fuck happened?” he tried to whisper.

  “There’s a fucking dog in there,” Dream spat as the barking continued.

  “What you wanna do?” Larue asked.

  “We going in this muthafucka’,” Dream turned and kicked the door a few times, knocking it from the hinges. As soon as the dust cleared, a big black Rottweiler came charging at them. Dream wasted no time shooting it right out of the air. When he hit the porch, they moved through the opening, guns drawn and checking rooms like the feds.

  “Ain’t nobody upstairs,” Trigga said.

  “These niggas must have just left,” Dream said, turning up his top lip. He picked up the ashtray with a half a blunt still lit, and his blood start
ed to boil. He was getting tired of chasing this nigga. He sat the ashtray down and looked around the room. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.” He turned to the door.

  Larue and Trigga followed him to the porch, feeling just as perplexed.

  “Send these niggas a message,” Dream said as he walked off the porch.

  Larue and Trigga moved to the trunk, grabbed some gasoline and old rags, dowsed them, threw them up against the house, and then lit each one. Trigga threw the gas can through the opening in the door and ran to the truck.

  Dream sat in the driver’s seat of his truck and watched the flames smolder. When Trigga and Larue jumped in, he pulled off just as heated as the fire. Dream felt like this nigga Derrick was shitting on him. Every lead always turned up a dead end. Dream turned the corners, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

  “This shit don’t feel right,” Trigga said what everyone else was thinking.

  “We need to go see that nigga Sherm,” Larue added from the backseat.

  Dream nodded his head and headed to the game room.

  * * * * *

  Leena stacked her shoe boxes neatly in the trunk of her car, hopped in, and drove off. She let the roof back on her car and embraced the midday breeze. She hit the satellite radio and pumped that new John Legend track as she pushed out of the mall parking lot.

  Leena was snapping her fingers and rocking to the beat as the wind blew through her hair. For the first time in weeks, she felt a peace that her body needed. She moved through the busy streets, smiling and eyeing the seas of people going on with their day, and reality set in when she realized that her joy—although well-deserved—would be short lived. In an instant she went from heaven to hell. The smile dropped from her face, and a frown replaced it. Leena turned down the music as she turned on her block. She was now ready to hit a bottle of wine, take a hot bath, and go to bed.

  Leena pulled in front of her brownstone, and her mood worsened. Chyna was sitting on her steps, waiting like a lost puppy, she hadn’t seen or heard from her in days and or all she knew her visit could be a set-up. Leena pulled up the block, did a U-turn, and parked across the street. She grabbed the bags and stormed toward the house.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, smoothly moving up to the door.

  “Leena, please.” Chyna jumped up and chased her up the stairs. “I need you,” Chyna confessed, grabbing Leena by the arm.

  “You don’t need me. You turned your back on us.”

  “I haven’t. You don’t understand, this shit is crazy. I have to move like this,” Chyna said, trying to hold back tears.

  “You are so selfish,” Leena accused.

  “What did I do? I am just living my life,” Chyna said.

  “Yes, and your life has us all fucked up. Nigga’s dying and disappearing. You over there, shopping and living good with the next nigga.”

  “You don’t know what I have to go through. Don’t think because the windows are clean that the inside of the house is immaculate. Every day is a struggle. I have not turned on you. I turned to myself. I have to do this right now. Please, Leena, I need you.”

  “You don’t need me. You need yourself.” Leena turned to the door to put her key inside.

  “You don’t understand.” Chyna gripped her arm.

  “I don’t understand what?” Leena snatched away from Chyna. “You got that nigga’s money, house, cars, kids, and he loves you. You got that nigga’s heart.” Leena raised her voice. “He on the run for his life, and you in the bed with the nigga that’s hunting him. None of that shit don’t sound suspect to you?”

  “Leena, it’s not my fault that he loves me. He left me.” She pounded her palm on her chest. “I’m still here. He moved on, and I moved on. There is nothing wrong with that.”

  “It that what you really believe, or is that what you sell yourself?” Leena’s anger was too great for her to have any sympathy for Chyna’s situation.

  Chyna looked back at her friend, and for the first time she saw a jealous heart. Leena wasn’t mad because she was living foul, she was mad because she wanted what Chyna could easily walk away from. It wasn’t her, it was Derrick. It was all coming clear in the seconds passing between words. Chyna formed an uncomfortable smirk and then let her heart go.

  “You were fucking too,” she flat out accused.

  “What?” Leena feigned ignorance.

  “Bitch, don’t ‘what’ me.” A calm came over Chyna, and she prepared her mind to unleash verbal homicide. “You know, I always had my suspicions about Kenyatta. Even had a small amount of suspicion for Jocelyn, but you? Bitch, you dirty.”

  “Bitch, you bugging,”

  “Yeah, I’m bugging, and you fucked my man. Yeah, I got his money, house, car, kids, and I got that nigga’s heart. For all you do, you just got some of that nigga’s dick. I promise you, your pussy ain’t worth enough for him to give you real good dick. No, he brings that home to mama.”

  “I never slept with your man,” Leena said.

  “Yup, and I never slept with yours.” Chyna smiled and walked down the stairs.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Leena set her bags down.

  Chyna walked to her car and opened the door. “I would tell you to dig Poppy up and ask him, but that would be cruel. Have a good evening.”

  Leena took off running down the steps, missing one and sliding down the rest. Chyna jumped in her car, and put it in gear. She pulled off, and screeching tires echoed in the streets. The smell of burning rubber filled Leena’s nose as she got up off the ground, dusting her pants off as she watched Chyna turn the corner.

  “Fucking bitch,” Leena said as she went back up the stairs. She stormed into her house and threw her bags across the floor. She plopped hard on the couch, breathing heavily. She got up, grabbed her purse, retrieved her cellphone, and made the call she had been trying to avoid.

  “Hello. Yeah it’s me. I think I know where you can find what you are looking for,” Leena said. She waited for the person to give her instructions. She disconnected the call, grabbed her purse and keys, and was out. Payback was about to be delivered in epic proportions.

  Chapter 14 - Hot Air

  “So that bitch just said that shit and pulled off?” Kenyatta asked, walking from Leena’s kitchen with a tall, frozen daiquiri.

  “Girl, I was shocked. I’m like, how cold is a bitch to yell out she fucked your man after we went through all the drama over his murder. I was going to choke the shit outta her, but I fell down the fucking steps.” She chuckled and looked at the scrape on her elbow.

  Kenyatta had to chuckle too. Jocelyn sat across from them, lost in her feelings. She was so tired of revisiting Chyna’s land of bullshit.

  “Why you so salty?” Kenyatta asked Jocelyn, whose mood was putting a dark cloud on an already fucked up situation.

  “I’m so done with all this shit. If that nigga Dream knows she is his woman, why’s he fucking her instead of blowing her head off?”

  “Dream ain’t no fool, he know a dead bitch can’t tell,” Kenyatta said, sipping her drink.

  “What could she possibly tell?” Leena turned to Kenyatta.

  “Shit, I don’t know, but the bitch pussy ain’t wrapped in gold, so she must have something that nigga need more than a wet dick.” She sat back and crossed her legs.

  “You know some shit?” Leena sat forward.

  “I don’t know anything, but she has too. Think about it. Dream is a killer. That nigga don’t care. So why didn’t he come after her hard? Nah, he fucking her, that makes this shit more personal than anything.” She stated. “This shit is way past money too, it’s about get back.”

  “That don’t make no damn sense. What does Chyna have to do with that?”

  “I don’t know, but we gonna see,” Kenyatta said, rolling her tongue over her teeth.

  “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I will say this: I got mad love for this bitch, but if she sell us out, I’m coming for her hard. I don’
t give a fuck.” Jocelyn spat, feeling sick to her stomach that she even had to say the bitch’s name.

  “What time is he supposed to call?” Kenyatta asked, looking at her watch.

  “He said 2:30. We have five minutes.” Leena looked at her phone. “Don’t forget he doesn’t know you are here, so please be quiet.

  “Here we go with this hiding shit again,” Jocelyn said, sitting back and folding her hands in her lap.

  “Look, you want to find out what the fuck is going on, just chill and let me handle this.” Leena pointed out.

  “Why he call yo’ ass anyway?” Kenyatta asked.

  “I don’t know, but I am going to see what the nigga talking about,” Leena said, looking down at her phone again, willing it to ring.

  She set it down on the coffee table, and as soon as she pulled her hand back, the phone rang. She looked down, saw the DC number he’d called from the other day, and hit the call button.

  “Hello,” she said and then hit the speaker.

  “What’s up, Leena?” Derrick said into the phone.

  “You good, playa. I know these niggas been on your ass?”

  “I’m good for now,” he said, trying to listen for any background noise.

  “So what’s up?” Leena asked, looking up at Kenyatta.

  “I need you to get a message to Chyna for me.” He paused.

  “She is mad as hell at me right now because she thinks we were fucking around, but I will try.”

  “What? Why she say that?”

  “I don’t know, but she said you were fucking Kenyatta and Jocelyn. I guess you had the whole crew,” she said, baiting him.

  “Man, please. Kenyatta’s cool, but she can’t get none of this. And Jocelyn? That fat bitch is only good for sucking my dick,” he rattled on, sounding like the bitch he was.

  “Hey, those are my friends,” Leena cut in.

  “My bad. But you know they been on my dick for years. They ain’t got shit coming, you know where my heart is at.”

  “Yes I do,” Leena responded, took the phone off speaker, and got up to walk in the kitchen. She could see that her girls were trying to hold there tongues, and she was scared something was going to slip out before she could get the information she needed.

 

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