by Qiana London
“Damn, it goes down like that?”
“Yep, her parties go hard,” she continued. “You’re still coming, right?”
“Of course, I am. I have a little business I need to take care of first, though. I’ll probably be a bit late. Are you cool with me meeting you there?”
“That’s fine. I’ll text you the address,” she replied. “I’ll catch a ride with my girls and I’ll ride back with you.”
“Alright, that’ll work.”
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“See you there.”
Dezzy definitely had me feeling some kind of way. She had me open and doing shit for her that I wouldn’t even entertain for other women. But what was really crazy was the fact that I wanted to.
I slid my phone back into my pocket and regained my composure. I was here to do a job, so I had to focus. I walked back into the room with the rest of the team and prepared to play my role. I had a week to flip Fatima and I intended to make every day count.
Chapter Three
The last time I saw my brother was the night before I left for boot camp. I had tried to convince him to enlist too, but he didn’t believe there was anything the marines could do for him that he couldn’t do for himself. My brother and I were polar opposites even though we’d come from the same humble beginnings. I was determined to see the world and make something out of my life while he was determined to be a hood star. Craig was about that life that I didn’t want any parts of. Make no mistake, though, I could and would get down with the best of them if I had to, but I’d chosen a different path.
I sat low in my black-on-black Audi R8. I had purposely parked down the street under a blown-out street light so that I could watch the trap house without being seen. This wasn’t where Rebecca was being held, but I knew it would be only a matter of time before my brother came through to collect. And I’d be waiting for him whenever he did. In the meantime, I paid attention to the traffic going back and forth from the house and sized up the dudes posted outside. I had every intention of playing nice, but I was strapped and I wouldn’t hesitate to take it there if one of these so-called thugs got out of line. Another twenty minutes passed before the silver Range Rover with blacked-out window tinting rounded the corner. I knew it was Craig before he ever got out of the SUV. The car fit his personality: flashy and mysterious at the same time. I watched as he pulled in front of the house and got out of the truck along with a dime piece. I had to admit that my brother had good taste, but he was hella foul. He was married, and this chick definitely wasn’t his wife. I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
I positioned my Smith & Wesson in my waistband against the small of my back, climbed out of my car, and threw my hoodie on top of my snapback hat. I headed toward the house and called out to my brother before he went inside.
“Aye yo, Black!”
My brother turned to look in my direction, and so did the goons standing in front of the house. I was still in the shadows, so they didn’t know who was approaching. Craig’s crew put their hands in position to pull their weapons, but my brother didn’t flinch.
As I stepped into the light, he responded. “Get the fuck outta here!” he exclaimed. He walked toward me, meeting me halfway as I made it in front of the house.
We stood facing one another. Even though we had different fathers, we looked a lot alike. We both had narrow, hooded, brown eyes, square jaw lines, and muscular builds. But my brother had light skin and he wore locs. I was dark skin with a tapered fade. We mugged each other for a moment before breaking into laughter and embracing. As we stepped away from one another, I could feel all eyes on me.
“When did you get home?”
“I’ve been back for a minute—”
“And you didn’t come fuck with your little brother? What kind of shit is that?”
“I had shit to do, but I’m here now,” I replied, nonchalant.
“Whatever. Don’t be out here actin’ brand new, nigga.”
“Come on now.”
He turned back toward the house and signaled with his head for me to follow him. The girl who was with him walked ahead of us. He watched her ass as she walked and then pointed at it before turning to look at me, making sure that I saw what he saw. I shook my head with a smirk on my face and strolled behind them. The majority of the dudes relaxed when they realized Craig knew me, but one of them kept his eyes on me. As I was about to walk into the house behind my brother, he stepped in front of me.
“Do we have a problem?”
He looked me up and down before answering my question. “Nigga, we might.”
I chuckled, planted both feet on the ground, and glared at him. I called out to my brother without breaking eye contact. “Craig, come and get your boy.”
“What the fuck you say?” He was flexing, but he didn’t step to me.
My brother came and stood next to him. “Be easy, Wayne.” Craig patted him twice on his shoulder. “He’s good.”
I walked past Wayne into the house, keeping my eyes on his. I wasn’t worried about him, but he was going to have to worry about me if he kept acting like a bitch. Craig spoke to me over his shoulder. “Don’t even trip, Khalil. Wayne is my right-hand man. When I move, he does too. But sometimes he can take his role a bit too seriously. He ain’t ever met you before and he thinks everyone is suspect. It ain’t personal.”
“Yeah if you say so. Something doesn’t feel right about him, but that’s your boy so I’m gonna let it go.
I stood back while my brother made his rounds handling business. He popped into the kitchen where women were cooking dope. He checked on the supply that the youngsters were bagging and collected money from the ones who had been on the block. Even though it was illegal, my brother had an impressive operation going on. He was hella smart and he would be a force to be reckoned with if he would use those smarts for something good. There was no getting through to Craig, though. He liked the fast life and tax-free money. In either case, that was the life he’d chosen and it wasn’t for me to worry about or judge.
“Alright, Khalil,” he said, walking down a long hallway toward a room in the back of the house. “Come holla at me.”
I stood behind my brother as he unlocked the door. Inside the room was a makeshift office. A green leather couch was pushed against the wall, and a small wooden coffee table was positioned in front of it. Across from the couch and mounted on the wall was a flat screen TV. In the corner was a card table with two folding chairs on either side along with a money counting machine and empty liquor bottles on top. A couple of crooked paintings hung on the walls, and the windows were covered with black sheets.
“How you been, little brother?”
“I’m out here surviving and shit,” he replied.
Craig walked further into the room toward the couch. He removed his piece from his waistband, placed it on the table, and sat down. “Get that door for me.”
I pushed the door closed and watched as he pulled a blunt from behind his ear and lit it. He took a long drag before offering it to me.
“Naw, I’m good.”
“Square-ass nigga,” he said.
I laughed and sat down in a chair by the card table.
“So what’s up? Why are you down here slumming it with me? I know you ain’t here just to shoot the shit.”
“You’ve got some business that concerns me.”
“Yeah? I doubt that.” He hit the blunt again and stared at the lit end for a moment before he sat it down on the table in an ashtray. He pulled a wad of money from his pocket, removed the rubber band, and began counting it.
“I’m gonna need you to let the girl go.”
“What girl?”
“Craig, come on now. This is me. You know what I’m talking about.”
“No, I don’t.” He was nonchalant as he counted his money and avoided eye contact. “But if I did, why would I do that?”
“Because I have some unfinished business with Diandre and I don’t want anything or anyone
to get in the way.”
He stopped counting and looked at me. “How did you get caught up with a nigga like that?”
“I didn’t, but he fucked with someone close to me.”
He studied my face. “What’s her name?”
“That’s not important.”
“Maybe not, but what is important is my money, and what you’re asking would fuck it up if I knew what you were talking about.”
“Look, I thought I’d do you a solid by coming to you first.”
“Before what?” He was defensive. “I don’t need no fuckin’ favors.”
My brother was a hot head, and when his temper flared, it was hard to reason with him.
“This is personal for me, Craig, and you’re my brother. Some shit is about to go down, and I don’t want you to be involved in it.”
My brother and I had kept up with one another over the years through the grapevine. I knew how he handled business and he thought he knew how I handled mine, but he had no idea.
“Yeah, well, I appreciate your concern and all, big brother, but I’m good. You do what you’ve gotta do because I damn sure will.”
The chick that had rolled up with him walked through the door without knocking.
“Damn, Trish! What the fuck did I tell you about coming up in here when I’m handling business?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I thought you were back here by yourself.”
“Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood,” he started. “And my brother was just leaving, so bring that fine ass over here.”
I stood up and straightened my clothes as she walked past me. She positioned her body in front of him before lowering herself to her knees.
“Just think about what I said, Craig.”
He sat back on the couch as she began to unfasten his pants. He waved me away with his hand. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He kept his eyes on Trish, and I hurried to leave before I saw some shit that I could do without.
*****
I knew I was near the party before I reached my destination. I could hear the music from blocks away. Cars lined the street, leaving me to park a bit out of the way. I didn’t mind, though. It was a nice night, and the walk would give me some time to clear my head before I reached the party. I no longer wanted to think about work. As I got closer to the house, I saw folks standing out front with red cups in their hands, talking to one another. I didn’t recognize anyone in the front yard and doubted that I’d know too many people other than Dezzy at this party, but it was cool. I was a chameleon, so I had no problems adapting to my surroundings.
I nodded a greeting to a few dudes as I passed them and stopped briefly to speak with a group of females who had walked out the front door, fanning themselves. I wanted to see if they knew Dezzy and where she was.
“How y’all doin’ tonight?”
“Damn, you fine! Better now that you’re here,” one girl replied. “Did you come by yourself?” She looked over my shoulder to see if anyone had come with me. I smiled, but I didn’t feed into her flirting.
“Yeah, but I’m meeting someone.”
“If she doesn’t show up, you let me know.” She licked her lips and scanned my body from head to toe, her eyes lingering on my crotch.
Damn, the thirst is real. Even if I weren’t with Dezzy, I wouldn’t go for a chick like this. I preferred to do the pursuing, and she was doing too much.
“She’s already inside, sweetheart.” I didn’t want to be too dismissive. I didn’t know if she was a friend of Dezzy’s.
“Lucky girl,” she added.
“Brenda, leave this man alone. Please excuse her,” another girl chimed into the conversation. “Who are you looking for?”
“Y’all know Desrinique?”
“Oh yeah, I know Nique Nique. She’s my hairstylist. This is my party. I’m Inez.” She extended her hand to shake mine.
“How you doin’, Inez? I’m Khalil,” I said, shaking her hand.
“I’m good. Thanks for coming. Go ahead inside. There’s plenty of people, food, and drinks up in there. Feel free to help yourself. I’m sure you’ll find her,” she said, smiling.
“Alright. I appreciate that. It was nice meeting you.”
I turned away from them and headed toward the front door. When I walked inside, I realized Inez wasn’t lying. People were asshole to belly button up in here. Finding Dezzy was going to take some effort, but I wasn’t hard pressed. I would enjoy myself in the meantime. I bobbed my head to the beat of the music as I maneuvered through the crowd and made my way over to the bar area. There was no shortage of liquor. All types of alcohol covered a long table and people were serving themselves. Judging by the looks of the crowd, people had already begun taking full advantage too. I scanned the table for a moment to see what would catch my eye. I grabbed a red cup, scooped out some ice, and reached for the bottle of Rémy Martin. I filled my cup, sat the bottle back down, and returned my attention to the party. Being tall was working to my advantage because I had a good view of the crowd, but with all of the people in the room, it was still hard to find Dezzy. I decided to secure a spot along the wall where I could maintain my view of things around me and enjoy my drink before I went in search of my lady.
It had been a while since I’d been at an old school house party. I sipped my drink as I people watched. Some people were coupled up while others were trying to catch. It was entertaining watching many of the girls breaking a sweat by bumping and grinding against dudes who put forth very little effort. They simply held their drinks in the air, and maintained a steady two-step move. I laughed as some of the dudes tried hard to push up on girls who weren’t giving them the time of day. I could honestly say that was a problem I’d never had. I brought my cup to my lips again and was soon approached by a little chocolate drop.
“Hey, boo, why are you over here all by yourself?”
“I’m just chillin’ and enjoying the party,” I replied and smiled.
“You have a beautiful smile.”
“Thank you, sweetie.”
“Come on and dance with me.”
Before I could respond, she turned her back to me, bent over, and began twerking to the beat of the music. She was skilled and managed to back me up against the wall. I could feel my dick beginning to respond to the attention he was getting. I placed my hand on her lower back and created a little distance between us. I didn’t want things to get too carried away. But I kept dancing with her while I sipped my drink in the process. She looked back at me a few times, and I smiled. She was putting in work, and I could tell she thought this would turn into something more than a dance. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I would do my best to turn her down gently once the dance was over. As I looked out into the crowd again, I finally spotted Dezzy. She was across the room with some girls along with a dude that I could tell she was trying to get rid of. I assessed the situation from a distance at first to see how she would handle herself. But when he pulled her by the arm into him and tried to forcefully kiss her, I cut my dance short.
“Aye, I gotta go.” I moved the girl to the side.
“What? Why?” She was definitely annoyed.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I’ve got shit to take care of.”
I walked away into the crowd before she had a chance to respond. I made my way through the crowd and walked up on Dezzy and the dude. Her back was to me, but I had a clear view of him. She had freed herself from his grip and was yelling over the music.
“Zereck, leave me the fuck alone!”
“Why are you acting like we ain’t been through shit before? We always get back together.”
The music changed, and the crowd got hyped. But I continued to watch the exchange between them. I was trying my best not to overreact.
“From what I hear, your boy got locked up and you’re back on the market.”
“Why are you so worried about what’s going on with me?”
“Because you know you miss me.”
“I ain
’t thinkin’ about your ass.”
“Man, quit trippin’ and come here.”
He reached for her arm again and attempted to pull her over to him. I stepped forward and grabbed Dezzy by the waist with my free hand, backing her up toward me. The punk-ass dude let go of her arm. At first, she tensed up and looked over her shoulder, ready to let me have it. But she relaxed the moment she realized it was me. She rested her head back against my chest.
“You good, baby?” I asked Dezzy, looking at this fool.
“Yeah, I’m go—”
“The fuck you mean is she good? he interrupted. “Of course, she’s good. You need to mind your own business.”
“She is my business.”
“Nigga, who the fuck is you supposed to be?”
I let Dezzy go, and moved her to the side. “Hold this, babe.” I extended my arm to hand over my cup.
She didn’t take it. “Khalil, don’t pay him any attention.”
“Take his cup. I ain’t worried about this nigga.”
I chuckled and ran my hand along my goatee. “Is something funny, bruh?”
I turned to look at Dezzy for the first time during the exchange. She looked at me with pleading eyes. I wanted so badly to show him just who the fuck I was, but I cared more about how my actions would make her feel. After all, this was her client’s party. We were guests, and I didn’t want to embarrass her. As if she were reading my mind, she stepped in front of me, put her arms around my neck, and mouthed ‘Thank you.’
I put my arm around the small of her back, and pulled her close to me as I felt my anger beginning to subside.
“Bruh, apparently, I ain’t make myself clear!”
I turned to look at him, but Dezzy grabbed both sides of my face and turned my attention back to her.
“He’s drunk, KJ. Please ignore him. I don’t want to cause a scene.”
I saw him moving toward me out of the corner of my eye. He grabbed my shoulder to pull me away from Dezzy, and my hand clutched his throat within seconds. His eyes grew big, and he began to gasp for air.
“I’m going to let you off with a warning this time. But if you ever put your hands on me again or her, I won’t be as nice next time.”