An Urban Drama

by Glenn, Roy

  Roy Glenn

  An Urban Drama

  By Roy Glenn

  Escapism Entertainment

  1038-5 Dunn Avenue

  # 30

  Jacksonville, FL32218

  © Copyright 2011 Roy Glenn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locals are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

  Also by Roy Glenn

  Beneath The Surface

  The Cost of Vengeance

  Killing Them Softly; An Erotic Tale of Murder

  Commit To Violence

  Three The Hard Way

  Private Deceptions

  The Mike Black Saga; Book One

  The Mike Black Saga; MOB

  On Sale Now from Escapism Entertainment

  The Request by LaVonda Kennedy

  Coming Soon from Escapism Entertainment

  Whatever It Takes by Angela Jones

  Off Limits by Navarre

  Going Down; An Erotic Tale of Murder by Roy Glenn

  The Divorce Chronicles by LaTonya Y. Williams

  Out of Control by Roy Glenn

  One

  “So, it all comes down this?” I asked my lawyer, Wanda Moore.

  Wanda looked over at me and slowly nodded her head. “All there is now is to wait, Nina.”

  Wait for a grand jury to decide if I was going to have to stand trial. I didn’t wanna go to jail, but who does? And if I had to go, I couldn’t blame anybody, but myself. I chose to be where I was in life, and I chose to be doing what I was doing. Still, sometimes life leads you to make choices that you think you normally wouldn’t. At every point where I should have turned right, I went left.

  It was my first day back from Virginia. My girl, Teena, came and picked me up just like she did every time I came home. Only this time I was home for good. After five years I had finally graduated from HamptonUniversity with a degree in business administration. It took five years ’cause I lost my mind and went wild my freshman year. First time away from home, first time away from my parent’s control—shit, I thought college was a social activity. You couldn’t have a party and Nina not be there.

  I got a little more serious about it my second year. I never was a great student, but I did enough to graduate. I figured I’d hang out for the summer, you know, have some fun—okay, have a lot of fun—then I’d get serious about getting a job in September. Maybe even October. After all, I had earned that break.

  Teena had been my girl since I could remember. She was very pretty, and just the nicest, funniest person to be around. If there was trouble to get into, we got into it together. When I went away to college at Hampton, Teena, who always hated school, decided college wasn’t for her and stayed in New York. For the last five years she’d been hanging out. Teena didn’t work, and to my knowledge never had. She said her job was getting niggas to give her money. “The trick is doin’ it without fuckin’ everybody. That’s what makes it an art form,” Teena always told me. But it was working for her, ’cause everybody loved her.

  Teena had taken some guy’s Escalade to pick me up while he was sleeping. She said she met the guy a couple of days ago. “He likes to smoke weed, right, but he gets real sleepy when he does. So I told him when he picked me up that I wanted to borrow his truck, you know, so I could hang out with you or whatever.”

  “He probably thought you were crazy,” I said.

  “He laughed and says, ‘We’ll see.’ So we had been ridin’ around smokin’ weed all day. Now, you know I can handle mine, but I know he’s gettin’ fucked up. So we get back to his house, right, and I say, you know, like, let’s smoke another blunt. So we sittin’ there smokin’ the blunt, watchin’ TV, and I ask him about the truck again, but he don’t really answer me ’cause he’s fallin’ asleep. So I’m tellin’ him, like, what a good driver I am and how I’m gonna take good care of his truck and shit, right. But by now he’s breakin’ his neck tryin’ to stay ’wake. So I’m like, look, if you fall asleep on me, I’m takin’ the truck,” Teena said.

  “What he say?”

  “All he could do at that point was smile. He fell asleep; I got his keys and was gone. Then I called this other guy, told him that I needed some money to hang out with you, and said I’d come by later. Not!”

  That’s just how she carried it. So, now we were riding in some man’s Escalade, spending another man’s money. We hit the clubs.

  We were hanging at this spot uptown when Teena says, “Hey, Nina, don’t that guy look like Lorenzo?”

  “What guy?” I got excited just hearing his name. I turned around quickly and saw him making his way through the crowd toward the bar. It was him, Lorenzo Copeland, my boyfriend from high school. My first lover, my only real boyfriend. I hadn’t seen him in five years, and damn, he looked good. I told Teena I’d be back, went to the bar, and posted up where I knew he’d see me.

  “Nina?” he yelled over the music as he got close enough to recognize me.

  I turned around slowly like he was bothering me. I looked at him and made like I didn’t know him. “Yes.”

  He stepped a little closer. “Don’t you recognize me?” He snatched off his sunglasses. “It’s me, Lorenzo.”

  I took a step closer to him and slowly put on a little smile. “Lorenzo? Lorenzo Copeland.” I held out my arms. “Come show me some love.” He stepped up quickly and threw his arms around me. “How are you, Lorenzo?” I gave him a friendly hug and took a step back.

  “I’m chillin’, you know. But damn, Nina, it’s good to see you.”

  “Really? I’m glad you feel that way, ’cause I was just thinkin’ about slappin’ the shit outta you.”

  “Don’t be like that.”

  “How come you never answered my letters?”

  “Nina, I swear I never got your letters.”

  “Sure,” I said and turned away.

  “A lotta shit happened after you left. Gimme a chance to explain. Come on,” he said and touched my hand. I pulled away. “Can we go someplace where we can talk?”

  I stood there for a second a looked at him. I could tell by looking at him that he was a baller now. Standing there looking like money. I guess it was inevitable that he would grow up to be a baller; it ran in the family. Back then, two of his uncles went to jail for selling drugs, and the only reason his father stopped dealing was ’cause Lorenzo’s mother had died when Lorenzo was young. Lorenzo was definitely bling-bling now, and his gear was all designer shit.

  “Okay. Where can we go?” I asked.

  “Come ride with me.”

  “I can’t. Me and Teena are rollin’ together. I can’t leave her.”

  “Teena? From high school Teena?”

  “Yup.”

  “Where she at?”

  “Right there,” I said, and pointed to my girl.

  “Wait a minute.” He walked over to Chris, one of the guys he was with, whispered something to him then pointed at Teena.

  Chris was fine too. He walked over and started talking to Teena. She was smiling and laughing, and the next thing I knew, him and Teena were coming toward us.

  “What’s up, Teena?”

  Teena gave Lorenzo a big hug. “What’s up, Lorenzo?”

  “Y’all need to start callin’ me Lo. Nobody calls me Lorenzo anymore.”

  “Whatever, Lo-ren-zo,” Teena said, emphasizing each syllable. I had to agree with her. I had met him as Lorenzo, and to me, that would always be his name.

  Teena
turned to me. “So, where we goin’, Nina?”

  “I don’t know. This is a Lorenzo production.” I turned to him. “Where you talkin’ about takin’ us?” I asked, knowing that it didn’t really matter where he wanted to go, and it really didn’t matter what excuse he offered up for why he never wrote, I was going with him.

  “Don’t worry about that. We goin’ to a little place I know. Come on.”

  Teena and I followed them to Lorenzo’s rimmed-out Suburban. He threw the keys to Chris and we got in the backseat. Chris drove to a place called Jimmy’s, a little hole-in-the-wall bar where everybody seemed to know them. While Teena and Chris drank shots of tequila and played pool, me and Lorenzo sat in a booth in the back of the bar and talked. While I sipped rum and Coke, he told me that after I went away to Hampton, his father went to jail for murder. Since he was only seventeen at the time, Lorenzo had to go into a foster home until he turned eighteen.

  “I’m sorry to hear that about your father. For real, I really am, but what does that have to do with you writing me?”

  “’Cause he killed the man in our house, so they never let me back in there. They just packed up some of my stuff and shipped me off to this group home. I tried to tell them that I had to get back in the house to get some more of my stuff, but by the time I got in there the landlord had thrown out all of our stuff and moved someone else in there.”

  I looked at Lorenzo, still playing the mad role. “You probably wouldn’t have written me even if you had the address.”

  “That’s not true, Nina. I loved you—still do. I’m so glad to see you, you just don’t know.”

  “Sure you do,” I said, getting wrapped up in the part. “All that is easy to say now, but all I know is that you forgot about me.”

  A very sad look came over his face, but then all of a sudden he stood up and started smiling. “You gotta come with me, Nina,” he said and started walking away. When I didn’t jump up and fall in behind him, he stopped and came back to the table. “Come on, Nina. You gotta come with me.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause there’s something I gotta show you.”

  “Show me what?”

  “Come with me and see.”

  “Come with you where?”

  “To da crib.”

  “Hell no! I see you after five years and you think I’m gonna go to your crib with you? I don’t think so. What you wanna show me, your dick?” I asked. I wondered if he said yes, would I say okay. Truth be told, I love me some dick, and that had been my dick all through high school. On the morning that my parents drove me to Virginia to start college, I even snuck down to his house so I could fuck him one more time before I left.

  Lorenzo smiled at me. “I could show you that right now if you wanted to see it, but what I got to show you, you gotta come with me to see.”

  “Why can’t you just tell me what it is?”

  “’Cause I want you to hold it in your hands and know that it’s for real.”

  “Sounds like we still talkin’ about your dick.”

  “Yeah, you wanna see it, the way you keep on talkin’ about it.”

  “You must be smokin’ that rock you sellin’. I don’t wanna see that dried-up little thing you got.”

  “Cool. Since we both know it ain’t about no dick, you can come with me so I can show you what I gotta show you.”

  I went along with him. We told Teena and Chris that we would be back, and it wasn’t long before we were in his apartment. I don’t have to tell you that ‘da crib’ was laid. The whole place had a black and white theme. The furniture was white leather and just about everything else was black. He had every kind of electronic device you could possibly imagine, plus a few things that I had no idea what they were.

  “I hope I can find it. I ain’t looked at them in years,” he said as he went into the bedroom.

  I followed him and sat on the bed while he searched in the closet. I picked up the remote and turned on the flat-screen TV. While he searched the closet I flipped channels, wondering what I would say when he came out of the closet and sat down next to me, talking ’bout he can’t find whatever it is that he’s looking for. As far as I was concerned, this was nothing more than a clever way to get me here. I started to call him out on it, but I decided to just let it ride and see where Lorenzo was going with this.

  “I know they’re in here somewhere. I never throw anything out.” The search continued for a minute or two more before he finally said, “Here they are.” He came out of the closest and sat next to me on the bed. “This should prove to you that I didn’t just forget about you.”

  “What are those?” I asked.

  “Here,” he said, and handed me two envelopes. They were addressed to Nina Thomas at HamiltonUniversity in Hamilton, Virginia. They were marked return to sender, no such address. “I wrote those letters to you and mailed them, but they came back.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s ’cause I went to HamptonUniversity, in Hampton, Virginia, not Hamilton, silly.” I suddenly felt myself getting all warm and sentimental. Not only did he try to write, but he saved the letters for five years.

  “Oh shit, really? Damn, I feel stupid.”

  “You should feel stupid. How many times did I tell you it was Hampton, not Hamilton?”

  “A bunch of times, Nina,” Lorenzo said, and that’s when I saw it. I got up and walked over to his dresser to look at the picture stuck on the mirror. It was faded and the edges were all curled up, but there it was—my high school graduation picture.

  “I can’t believe you still have this.”

  “Never forgot you, Nina. I thought about you every day.”

  I felt a rush of warmth when he kissed me. It was like it was all happening in slow motion. Maybe it was him, maybe it was the rum and weed, I don’t know, but it seemed as though his touch made my head spin. I felt myself losing control of the situation, so I pulled away.

  “Slow down, handsome. We got plenty of time for all that.”

  “All right, all right, but I don’t think you know how I’m feeling right now,” Lorenzo said.

  “Yeah, I do, but we left Teena and Chris at the bar.”

  “So? They’ll be all right. They looked like they was gettin’ along just fine.”

  “Maybe, but I would be mad as hell at her if she run off with somebody and left me with a stranger.”

  “All right, all right,” he said, then kissed me. “We can go back for them, but you gotta promise me something right now.”

  “What’s that?” I asked and he held me tighter.

  “Promise you’ll never leave me again,” Lorenzo said, and he kissed me again.

  “Never.”

  Lorenzo was right: Teena and Chris were getting along just fine without us. We got back to the bar in time to take Teena to the Escalade so she could follow Chris wherever he was going. After we dropped them off, I went back to Lorenzo’s apartment with him. As soon as we got through the door, he was all over me. We were both naked before I knew it.

  There we were, both of us standing in his living room, breathing hard, and surrounded by a pile of clothes. “What?” I said as we stood there staring at each other.

  “You are so beautiful, Nina. Let’s take a shower so I can bathe you,” Lorenzo said.

  When the water temperature was right, he led me by the hand into the shower and picked up a bar of soap. He began rubbing the soap between his hands until both were lathered heavily. I occupied myself by rubbing his rather large and very hard erection between my hands.

  With the bar of soap in one hand, he began to lather my body, sliding his hands delicately over every inch of my body. My eyes fluttered shut and my head drifted back as I continued to massage his erection. Once he had soaped my whole body, Lorenzo pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me. He slid his body up and down against mine, staring into my eyes the whole time. “You are so beautiful, Nina.”

  I tried to say something, but all I could do was moan. The
feeling of his chest against my nipples made them swell. “Turn around,” Lorenzo said, and I quickly complied, turning my body into the shower. He started again, sliding his body against mine. He massaged my breasts gently, squeezing my nipples as the water beat against my body, washing away the soap.

  Lorenzo ran his hand across my stomach, fingering my navel. His hand made the occasional pass across my pubic hair. He started kissing and licking my neck, sucking and gently biting my earlobes. Then his index finger found my clit. My eyes and mouth both opened wide. Again, I tried to speak as his finger massaged my clit. Again, no words could escape. His touch was soft and gentle yet firm, all at once. It felt as if waves of electric current emanated from my clit and spread throughout my body. I reached for the wall to steady myself; my knees locked, and my body shuddered from the inside out.

  I forced myself to pull away from him. I quickly washed the remaining soap from his body and pulled him out of the shower. We slowly dried one another, each of us exploring the other’s body with the towel, our hands, and our eyes.

  “Lie down. I’m gonna give you a massage.” He kneeled on the floor and poured a little baby oil on my legs, rubbing it in slowly. He began massaging my calves, then did the same to my thighs, exploring with his tongue until I felt my body shake. Rising from his knees, he sat next to me on the bed and applied oil to my arms and chest.

  I took the bottle from him. “Lay down on your back. Let me do you,” I said.