An Urban Drama
Page 7
Cedric told me that he made his money robbing. You know, anyplace he could find cash on hand—hotels, restaurants; he said he even robbed a couple of post offices.
One night Cedric called and woke me up around 3 o’clock in the morning. “First of all, do you know what time it is?” I said, still half asleep, but mad as hell.
“Yeah, I know what time it is. It’s two fifty-eight. You ain’t got no other nigga over there, do you? ’Cause I’ll kill that muthafucka.”
I rolled my eyes. “What do you want, Cedric?”
“I wanna see you.”
“Have you lost your mind? Hell no, you ain’t comin’ over here at three o’clock in the morning.”
“I ain’t talkin’ about now. I mean when I get back.”
“Back? Back from where?”
“Ohio. I’m on my way back from Ohio.”
“What you doin’ in Ohio?” I don’t know why I asked. I really didn’t care. I just really wanted to go back to sleep.
“Me and my boy, Tilly, took a little road trip there to handle some business. I’m still in Ohio, just outside of Cleveland. But when I get back, I’ma come by there. I got something to show you.”
“Cedric, don’t come over here at the crack of dawn.”
“Relax. We got a long way to go. Pennsylvania’s a long state to ride through.”
“Try callin’ before you come this time. You seem to have this bad habit of just showing up places, unannounced and uninvited,” I said and hung up the phone.
That next afternoon, Cedric was ringing my bell. No call—he just showed up. “I remember asking you to call before you came over here.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Cedric said and pushed his way past me. He walked into the dining room and poured twenty grand on the table.
“What’s that?”
“What does it look like, Nina? It’s money.”
“I know that. I was askin’ how much money and where did it come from?”
“It’s twenty grand, and it’s my share of the job I just did.”
I guess he was thinking that I was supposed to be impressed at the sight of twenty grand on the table. I’d seen Lorenzo with a lot more money than twenty grand. Shit, I was making much more than that in profit. But I knew a lot of women would be impressed. Impressed to the point of fucking him. In fact, I was sure when he left and did that same thing, that some woman’s clothes would fall off. But I know how fragile the male ego is, so I tried my best to act like that was more money than I had ever seen in my life. “That’s a lotta money, Cedric. What’d you have to do for it?”
“Let’s just say he’s no longer breathing.”
“Are you sayin’ y’all killed somebody for money?”
Cedric looked me dead in my face and said, “Nina, I will neither confirm nor deny anything like that,” with a slick half-grin on this face.
I didn’t say anything. It didn’t matter anyway. Cedric was on his way to being dropped into the friend zone. But what a shame to let a package like that, go to waste.
“Yo, Nina, check this out. I’m going back out of town.”
“Where you going this time?”
“Shippensburg, Pennsylvania.”
“For what? Another hit?” I laughed to myself.
“My boy been there surveying a group of dope boyz who’re sellin’ out of there. It’s just some little college town. Anyway, after a week of careful spying and surveillance, he runs up on the house, and now we goin’ to rob them.”
“You going down there to rob some dope boyz? It was nice knowing you.” I laughed out loud this time.
“No, Nina, you got it all wrong. These ain’t nothin’ but some college kids sellin’ drugs. From what Earl says, they’re unorganized, but they’re clockin’ big dollars.”
“Well, like I said, good luck.”
“I need a favor from you, baby girl.”
“What you need? And stop callin’ me that.”
“Whatever, baby girl.
Asshole.
“I need you to drive me, Earl, and Tilly out there.”
So, now I was looking at him thinking that he was crazy. I was not gonna be the wheelman for any robbery. But then I thought about it. I sat in that apartment all the time, watching Jerry Springer and those dumb judge shows. The only time I really went out was to make money, and then I was right back here. Maybe I did need to add a little excitement to my life. After Cedric assured me that nobody would be at the house when they hit it, I agreed to drive them.
When we got there, the three of them agreed that if anything went down, it was every man for himself. They went in the house, no loyalty to one another, and probably no trust between them either. While I was sitting there thinking how that was a prescription for failure, a car rolled into the driveway. I honked the horn as three men got out of the car and went inside. When I heard shooting followed by the sound of glass breaking, I looked up and saw two men jumping out of the second floor window. Remembering that it was every man for himself, I started the car and was about to leave, when I saw Cedric get up off the ground and start running toward the car. He got in and I floored it.
“What happened in there?” I asked as I drove.
“Shit got wild after you honked the horn. Me and Earl were upstairs searching the house, and Tilly was alone downstairs. We heard them yell something and then we heard the gunshots. I guess they shot Tilly and were coming up the stairs after us, so me and Earl jumped out the window.”
“What happened to Earl?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t get up. All I know is he didn’t get up!”
“Okay, you don’t have to yell at me. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m all right,” Cedric said.
I looked at Cedric; he didn’t have a scratch on him. The whole thing excited me. I mean made-me-wet excited me. So when he asked me to have a drink with him when we got back to the city, I told him how the whole thing had me feeling. “But not tonight. I’ll meet you someplace tomorrow.”
We settled on a spot, and the next night I pulled into the parking lot looking around for Cedric’s car. I was early and wasn’t all that surprised when I didn’t see it. I went inside and headed straight for the bar. To my surprise, not only was Cedric sitting at the bar, but he was halfway through with his drink. I walked up behind him. “Hello, Cedric.”
It must have caught him off guard, because he almost spilled his drink.
“Did I scare you?”
“No, of course not, I meant to do that,” he said and smiled.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Sure, beautiful. Have a seat. I got here a little early, so I started without you. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
I did think it was a little rude, but whatever. “No, as long as you give me an opportunity to catch up.” I sat down and motioned for the bartender. “Blue Muthafucka.” I turned to Cedric. “Would you like another?”
“Yeah, bring me another double gin and grapefruit juice. And can we see a menu, please?” The bartender handed us a menu and proceeded to his task.
“I didn’t see your car outside, so I didn’t think you were here yet.”
“I had a friend drop me off,” he said as he leaned toward me. “Hope you won’t mind taking me home.”
I smiled. “No, not at all,” I said, but I wasn’t feeling that either.
By the time I finished my third Blue Muthafucka, my judgment was impaired and I was feeling no pain. In simpler terms, I was drunk and so was Cedric. He was knocking down doubles like it was water. We weren’t sloppy, stumbling-over-our-words drunk, but we were both pretty far out there. Our conversation was getting more and more sexual in nature. We had talked about what we liked and disliked in the opposite sex, and naturally that led to what we liked sexually.
“What you thinking so hard about over there?” I asked.
“Thinking hard about you. Thinking if you only knew just how hard I was thinking about you, and how hard those thoughts were getting me. Th
inking about getting out of here while I can still walk.”
“You ain’t drunk, are you?”
“No, not drunk, but I definitely got my buzz on.”
“Good, ’cause I was thinking the same thing.”
“Oh, really?” He smiled and leaned close to me. Close enough to smell the gin on his breath.
“That’s not what I’m thinking about,” I said.
“How do you know what I’m thinking about?” Cedric said and sat back in his chair.
“Hello! It’s that I-wanna-fuck-you-so-bad-it-hurts look. It’s written all over your face. I may have my buzz on too, but I’m not blind.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“No more than any other man. Pay the check. I’m ready to go.”
Cedric signaled for the bartender and paid the check. We walked out to the car together and got in. I knew what was going to happen next, but I started lying to myself at that point.
During the ride to his apartment, the lying continued. Those lies allowed me to live in the delusion that somehow, being this high and horny, that some bizarre scenario existed where I would drop Cedric off in front his building, say good night and go home. I kept telling myself that I wasn’t gonna fuck him; I was just gonna drop him off and go home.
I pulled up in front of his building and looked over at him. “You wanna come in for a drink?” Cedric asked me.
I sat there and thought for a second. “Okay, but just one. Then I gotta go,” I said and got out of the car. I followed Cedric to the door. I knew once I crossed the threshold that it was over.
He locked the door behind me and offered me a seat on the couch. At that point it was over for me. As far as I was concerned, Cedric was getting fucked that night.
I watched Cedric shaking a canister of whatever we were going to drink and I thought about the consequences of what I was about to do. I would have to justify this to myself. Or could I just take a shower and shrug it off?
He gave me a glass and sat next to me on the couch. I took a sip of my drink. “Gin and tonic?”
“Shaken, not stirred,” he said, trying to sound like Bond.
I took another sip and looked at Cedric. He was looking at me. Staring, really. “What you looking at?” he asked and continued to stare.
“I could ask you the same question.”
“You could, but I asked you first.”
“Thinkin’ about the same thing you’re thinkin’ about.” I leaned forward.
“Really? Then what am I thinkin’?”
“You were wondering if you should kiss me.”
Cedric put down his glass. “You’re right.”
I could feel him getting harder as I tasted his tongue. I undressed him slowly, and Cedric removed my blouse and bra and made slow circles around my nipples as they begin to harden. I stroked his hardening dick with long, even strokes from tip to shaft. His body shook and he squeezed my nipples. My stroking became more intense, more focused.
I spread my legs. Cedric slid his hand along my thighs and gently fingered my clit. I felt it getting harder under his touch. I lay down on my stomach; Cedric sat beside me and ran his hands along my back, my ass, and then to my thighs. He entered me from behind. My pussy was so wet; he was so hard, and it felt so good inside me. I could barely control my passion. I began bucking my ass while he pounded against me. I yelled, “Fuck me harder!”
He did as I asked.
I felt the muscles inside me tighten around him and I came hard. Only problem was, so did he. Just that damn quick. I waited all this time to give somebody some, and this was all I got.
Damn!
After that night, I couldn’t get rid of him.
Nine
I was right—Cedric was an asshole. And possessive. He was always calling me, wanting to know where I was, what I was doing, who I was with. Damn, the sex wasn’t that good. In fact, it wasn’t good at all. He’d tried on several occasions to explain to me that it was the excitement of the moment and me making him wait so long, that made him a preemie, but I ain’t buying that. The excitement of the moment? Nigga, please. If you’re a premature ejaculator, you’re a premature ejaculator. And that’s cool; it’s just not cool with me.
I’d tried to tell him, get this, that it was the excitement of the moment that made me wanna have sex with him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t buying it. He swore that I was in love with him and that, that day I was showing my real feelings for him. He said that if I just gave him another chance, he’d prove that he had real staying power.
He started worrying the shit of me about it and it was getting on my last fuckin' nerve. I finally said, “Okay, Cedric, but if the sex ain’t good this time, you don’t need to ever call me again.” My thinking was that if the shit was good, I’d have me a new fuck buddy. You know, like Raymond back in college. If not, he would be so embarrassed that he would never bother me again.
I don’t have to tell you what happened the second time.
Preemie!
So, now his excuse was that I put him under so much pressure that he lost his concentration and, you know, lost it. It only made him more obsessed with me. He started sending me flowers every day, and a singing telegram. I didn’t think they still did that stuff. Cedric was following me around, calling me all the time. One night he called me twenty-seven times, but I didn’t answer the phone. He knew I was home ’cause, come to find out, he was sitting outside my building in his car the whole time. “’Bout time you answered your phone, Nina.”
“What do you want, Cedric?”
“I wanna see you.”
“Yeah well, I’m busy.”
“Probably with some other nigga, ain’t you, Nina?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” I lied.
“Why, Nina? I thought we had an understanding. You asked me to give you some time and I did that; now you with some other nigga.”
“First off, I didn’t ask you to give me some time. And if I gave you that impression, I’m sorry. What I remember sayin’ is there was no need for you to call me anymore.”
“You don’t mean that, Nina. You know you love me.”
“Nigga, please. I am not in love with you.”
“That’s ’cause you won’t give us a chance.”
“Us? There is no, us. There is nothing between us and there never will be.”
“Don’t say that, Nina.”
“We went out a few times and that’s it.”
“There was more to it and you know it.”
“What you talkin’ ’bout? I was stupid enough—or let the truth be told, horny enough—to give you some, and it wasn’t good either time. Not good for me at all.”
“I told you what the deal was with that. It won’t happen no more.”
“What, you go out and get you a fresh supply of Viagra?”
“Don’t talk to me like this, Nina. I love you.”
“I don’t love you. I don’t even like you. The more I get to know you, the more I realize what an asshole you are.”
“Don’t you talk to me like that!”
“Why not? You’re an asshole; an asshole that can’t fuck long enough to satisfy me. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll talk to you later!” I yelled and hung up the phone. I changed my phone number and got a new cell the next day. After that, I didn’t hear from him for about a month, so I just figured that he had gotten the hint and went on to terrorize some other woman. I was so wrong. Wrong to the point that he is the reason I’m sitting here now, waiting for the grand jury to decide my fate. And it all started one night when this guy named Victor called me.
It was a rainy Friday night, so I decided to relax and read The Request by LaVonda Kennedy; the book I’d been putting off for weeks. Now, once I start reading a book, especially a good book, it takes me in and I can’t stop myself. I have to suck it all in until it’s dry. I made myself a drink and settled in for a good read. It turned out to be one of the best books I ever read.
I had gotten through about a quarte
r of the book when the phone rang. I looked over at the display. “Bell, VR?” I didn’t recognize the name or the number. I usually didn’t answer if I didn’t know who was calling. Caller ID sure makes you anti-social. But my eyes were tired from reading in bad light; another bad habit. Besides, how long would it take to say wrong number and get back to the book? So, I answered the phone.
“Hello.”
“Can I speak to Ronda?” said a voice so deep it sent chills through me. “Damn, he has a nice voice,” I said to myself. I could feel the vibration in between my thighs.
“There’s no Ronda here. You have the wrong number,” I said.
“Oh, I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“You’re not bothering me,” I said quickly. “I was just sittin’ here reading a book.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading. I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a nice voice?”
He began to laugh. “Maybe once or twice. My voice has taken me places and gotten me into and out of more things than I can count.”
“You should be on the radio; ’cause your voice is so sexy I could just listen to you talk all night.”
“Thank you. You have a very pleasing tone to your voice too.”
“Well, thank you,” I said and squirmed around in my chair. “No one has ever told me that before, Mr. Bell.”
“How did you know my name was Bell?”
“Caller ID never lies,” I said and giggled like a teenager.
“I forgot about that. But why don’t you call me Victor?”
“Okay, Victor. My name is Simone,” I lied, using my old dancing name and sounding as polite and professional as I could.
“Well, Simone, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure meet you too,” I said. “So, how does it happen that you’re home on a Saturday night?”
“The rain.”
“What about you? How does it happen that you’re home on a Saturday night?”