Aysha sat up from the backseat and added, “Just consider this a vacation. We’ll get a little sun, meet a couple boys, have a few drinks. On the way back we pack something extra in the suitcase and forget that it’s there. No big deal.”
“No big deal,” Bleu confirmed, but she was unconvinced as she tried to relax. She wasn’t beat for this. What was the point of escaping the hood if she was going to put herself in hood situations anyway? She could have stayed in Flint; at least there she would have been closer to Noah. Her thoughts wandered as she thought of him and suddenly her breathing calmed. He had not written her back and a part of her felt slighted. I don’t even know if he got the letter, she thought. He couldn’t have. He would reach out to me. I hope he’s okay. Hours passed and Bleu was silent as Noah consumed her thoughts. She missed him. Like lungs needed air, like a flower needed the sun, she needed him. She didn’t realize how much she loved him until she had been forced to let him go. Now she was just going through the motions. Without him, she felt like a piece of herself was missing. Noah was locked up and with him so was her heart. He was her very best friend … the one person in the world who understood her.
“Hello? You in there?” China called as she waved her hand in front of Bleu’s face.
She snapped out of her thoughts and pushed China’s hand aside. “Yeah, I’m here,” Bleu answered in irritation.
“Crossing into Mexico isn’t the problem,” China schooled her. “Just keep it cool and hand me your passports.”
“What if they can tell it’s a fake?” Bleu asked, worried.
Aysha placed her passport on the center console. “They won’t. This isn’t our first time at the rodeo, Bleu. Stop tripping. You’re making me nervous, damn,” she said.
Within fifteen minutes and after a routine check at the border they were passing into Tijuana. “I told you,” China said. “Now it’s time for the fun part.”
“The fun part?” Bleu questioned.
“The beach,” Aysha concluded.
“What? Shouldn’t we get the stuff and head back?” Bleu asked. She was truly green to the game and it was showing. “I have to work tonight and I have a class tomorrow morning.”
“Well, that’s too bad then. Every time we come here we stay three days,” China informed her.
“I can’t stay for three days! I have classes,” Bleu protested. Ditching would throw her all the way off track. “Why wouldn’t y’all tell me we would be gone long!”
“Well, we can’t cross the border too frequently. That will throw red flags. Nobody comes to Tijuana and then leaves in a few hours. So consider it a vacation,” China schooled her. “This is an entirely different ball game, Bleu. That good-girl shit has to go. Fuck class. We’re playing with the big boys and they’ll eat you alive, so get your shit together and let’s make this money.”
* * *
The first thing that Bleu heard when she stepped out of the car was the sound of the gentle waves as they broke on the shoreline. As she looked out onto the water the view took her breath away. This was it. This was what she had always thought paradise looked like. While the rest of Tijuana was a myriad of outdoor markets and run-down infrastructure, the beach was the complete opposite. The shoreline was beautiful. The golden sand met the turquoise water and painted a perfect picture before her. It was a little piece of heaven on earth, and the hundreds of people who were out in the water looked like they were having the time of their lives.
Aysha immediately peeled off her clothes and tossed them in the trunk. Her long lean body was the perfect canvas for the Burberry two-piece she wore. It was more of a string than anything, and she was flawless in it.
“I didn’t bring a suit,” Bleu said.
Aysha shrugged as she released the ties on her top, allowing it to fall into the sand. She shrugged as she revealed her perky breasts. “So don’t wear one,” she said with a carefree laugh as she immediately headed for the water. Bleu shook her head in amazement as she blushed slightly.
China laughed. “You only live once, right?”
Bleu’s skepticism was written on her face. She wasn’t the girl with the perfect body. She was fine with her curves and she knew that many had admired her voluptuous nature, but she wasn’t without insecurities. Stripping down to her essence wasn’t her idea of fun. She had scars. Scars that no one needed to see. Ones that would expose the fact that she didn’t belong in this bubble of an L.A. world. She was flawed.
BEEP! BEEP!
They turned at the sound of the car horn, and she watched as a man climbed out of an F-150. He was handsome, young, and flashy. The blinding watch on his wrist told a story of wealth as he approached. He seemed to like excess. Everything about him was a bit overdone. Too much jewelry, too many women hopping out the back of his truck, too much arrogance in his stride as he approached. He was attractive, but conceit dripped off of him. She could tell that he had never heard the word “no.” He was sexy and powerful. Everyone on the beach seemed to flock to him, paying respect as they surrounded him like groupies.
“That’s Cinco,” China said. “That’s who we’re here to see. He’s the man that makes it snow in L.A.”
He was younger than Bleu had expected. When she thought of the Mexican Cartel, she envisioned old Mexican men in linen suits and full beards with beer bellies. Dude before her couldn’t be a day over twenty-three. He gave new meaning to the word “kingpin.” He was the new generation of a powerful ruling family in Mexico. With a mother from South Central L.A. and a father who reigned over one of the most powerful cartels in Mexico, Cinco had more hustle coursing through his veins than Nino Brown himself. Cinco’s cartel ties were only the tip of the iceberg; he was also affiliated with the street gangs in L.A. He was heavy in the streets and known for his murder game. Coke wasn’t his expertise. He simply had unlimited access, so he might as well make his money flip. His familial ties made him powerful. His father was a notorious supplier. Cinco would have made the perfect man in charge if it wasn’t for his hot head. So his father appointed someone else to the throne, and Cinco acted as the shooter. He was so good at being bad and Bleu’s intuition told her that he was danger personified.
“You brought a new face with you. One that’s easy to look at,” he said as he greeted China.
“This is my girl Bleu,” China introduced.
Cinco walked by China, his gaze fixed on Bleu as he approached her. He stood directly in front of her. She thought to lower her gaze but decided against it, as she realized he was purposefully trying to intimidate her. He was used to people bowing down just based on his status.
“You’re a beautiful girl, shorty,” he said.
“I’ve been told that,” she replied.
“Take off your clothes.”
The words were so direct that they confused her. Damn. He didn’t even wet it before he fucked her.
“Excuse me?” she asked with an attitude.
“I haven’t had to repeat myself in a long time!” he shot back, the look in his eye slightly threatening as an arrogant smirk crossed his face. Her breath caught in her throat as he placed his hands on her thighs and worked his way north.
“I don’t know you, shorty. You could be the feds,” he said.
“I thought Bree vouched for me,” she replied in confusion, slightly shaken as Cinco’s hands ran up her thighs as he felt her up.
“Bree’s word don’t mean shit to me. I like to know who I’m dealing with myself,” he replied. The smirk on his face told her he was enjoying watching her squirm. He played with the outline of her panties as his fingers dipped dangerously low.
She grabbed his hand. “I’m not wired, and if I was it wouldn’t be down there,” she said as she slapped his hand away forcefully.
“I like you,” he said as he chuckled obnoxiously. “You’re feisty.”
“And you’re an asshole!” she shot back. She was so offended that she shook with rage, but her flip lip was attractive to him. No one had ever spoken to him side
ways and lived to tell about it, but she did it without thinking twice, all in the name of self-respect. All of his minions watched, silently trying to gauge what his reaction would be. The air was tense and China moved toward them, but he put his finger up, halting her.
“I’ve heard that before,” he said, reiterating the comeback Bleu had given him earlier. She wasn’t beat for the bullshit. He could dig that. Already she was more interesting than half of the people in his circle. Yeah, she needed the money, but she wasn’t willing to smut herself out in order to make it. Most chicks would have jumped at the opportunity, but she was a different breed. Her V didn’t have a price tag on it. No amount of money could buy her. Already she wasn’t feeling him. She had met niggas like him before who thought their reputations were enough to get them anything they wanted. She also knew girls like the one he was mistaking her for. He had her confused however. Yes, she was impressed by the money, by the intrigue of his affiliation, but his status didn’t give him an all-access pass to her body. She was not easily conquered, and, more important, she was selective about whom she kept time with. “Take your hand off my thigh please. I’m here to make money. If you’re not talking about that, you’re not speaking my language.”
She sounded tough, but on the inside she quivered. She was in another country, popping big shit to a nigga who could easily leave her slumped. Bleu was from the murder capital, but she didn’t have the same bite as the rest of the dogs from her litter. Her bark was fierce, but she hadn’t ever had to back it up and she certainly didn’t want to test her gangster now. She knew that she was out of her league, but she wanted to make it known that she was here strictly for business.
Cinco’s eyes lit up in amusement before he turned his back to her. “Get shorty a drink,” he said to China. “We need to lighten her ass up.”
* * *
The devil’s playground. That’s what this was. As Bleu sat in front of the bonfire under the night sky, listening to the sound of the ocean, she realized that nothing this wrong had ever felt this good. Her discomfort slowly dissolved as the red cup full of Cîroc and papaya slowly seduced her into relaxation. Cinco and his people were circled around the fire, popping bottles of champagne, making it flow like water. Candy bags full of pills were passed around and the smell of Kush filled the air as everyone chased their own kind of high. They were living by their own set of rules, and in Mexico not even the authorities could stop them. This was that outlaw shit and Bleu had to admit that it felt kind of good. She had always played by the rules. She sat in the front of the class, paid attention, tried to remain good when the world was full of bad, but not tonight. Tonight, she was lawless. As the liquor hit her system, all her reservations about what she was stepping into melted away. Fuck it. She needed this. No one was financing her dreams, so she had to finance herself, and a shitty waitressing job wasn’t going to cut it. It was worth the risk … at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
“Hey, girl, you all right?” Aysha asked as she took a seat in the sand next to Bleu.
The glazed-over look in Bleu’s eyes caused Aysha to laugh. “I’m good,” Bleu replied.
“You’re fried,” Aysha said as she shook her head.
“Pretty much,” Bleu said with a smirk.
“You’re doing better than I did my first run. I was a hot mess. My nerves were out of control,” Aysha said. “I thought I would pee on myself the first time I met Cinco.”
“You’re not afraid of getting caught?” Bleu asked, turning serious suddenly. “I know the money is good, but I keep thinking what if—”
“Don’t think about the ‘what-ifs.’ Think about ‘what is.’ Cinco isn’t stupid. He’s been running this flawlessly since he was sixteen. He is cartel,” Aysha said, whispering. “They aren’t amateurs. Every precaution has already been taken to make sure we make it across the border. Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine,” Aysha said.
Aysha and China were so certain that Bleu blew out a deep breath. They knew this business better than she ever would. They understood the politics of it all and, more important, they knew exactly whom they were dealing with. Cinco was a young king in Mexico. The police wouldn’t dare interfere in his operation. It wasn’t until the drugs hit U.S. soil that things became risky, but in Mexico Cinco and his entire empire were untouchable. His youth contributed to his legend. Where most kingpins kept a low profile, Cinco wanted the spotlight shining brightly on him. He basked in it as if God were personally shining it for him to perform. If he had to play by the old-school rules of secrecy and seclusion it would have killed him. A real boss was untouchable and at most times undetectable, but Cinco lived for the clout and attention. He needed to be among his workers so that he could exercise his power. It was his yes-men who kept his ego fed. They made him feel like a god. Without the feeling of control, he was nothing. It wasn’t the dollar or the flip that he was addicted to; it was the influence … the fear. There were more than fifty people around him. Yeah, they were having a good time. Liquor and drugs were in excess, providing them a gangster’s buffet, making the mood light. But at the end of the day, they were all there under Cinco’s rule. They were his workers and he was the boss. He wasn’t worried about being touched because it was known that he was gruesome when it came to punishment. Besides, the shooters he had strategically placed throughout the crowd ensured his safety. He was unbothered and it showed as he sat, enjoying the night.
Bleu could feel his eyes on her as she sat hugging herself while staring into the fire. She looked up, meeting his gaze, and he raised his cup to her. He nodded. She did too and it was all the invitation he needed to make his way over. He was attractive, but it was overshadowed by the fact that he knew it. Arrogance was the ultimate turnoff for her. His flamboyance annoyed her intensely.
“Take a walk with me,” he said as he held out his hand to help her up.
Aysha looked at Bleu and nudged her shoulder. Bleu rolled her eyes and took his hand as he pulled her up out of the sand. She dusted off her behind before stepping away with him, and headed up the dark beach, away from the group. He handed her his cup, and she frowned as she looked at the dark liquor inside.
“I’m good,” she responded, declining. “If I drink any more I might throw up on your feet.”
“You’re not good, shorty. I don’t fuck with nervous mu’fuckas. You acting like the feds,” he said. The glimmer of danger in his eye made her reach out and accept the cup. She took a sip and he smirked. “That will loosen you up. You’re wound a little tight, shorty.”
She took several gulps this time, drinking until it was gone. She gave him a sarcastic smile as she tipped the cup upside down, proving it was empty. “Is that better?”
“Much,” he replied with a laugh. “What is somebody like you doing here?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you mean! Somebody like me?” she responded.
“This life isn’t yours. You’ve probably never stolen a candy bar from a corner store in your life! Girls like you don’t traffic dope. You’re too clean-cut,” he said, meaning it as an insult.
“I’m not like Aysha and China. I come from the bottom. I need the money. Not for shoes or handbags, either,” she replied vaguely.
“You’re just trying to eat,” he concluded. He sat in the sand and patted the place beside him. She placed her hands on her hips as she looked back toward the bonfire. They had walked about a half mile down the beach, and nothing surrounded them but darkness.
She didn’t know him and her stomach was in knots as she replied, “Maybe we should go back where everybody else is.” She could tell he was used to getting his way, and he seemed to want his way with her.
He grabbed her hand, pulling her down into the sand. “You scared of me?” He seemed amused at the thought. He got off on fear. Fear, in his eyes, made him powerful.
She sat beside him and watched the moon light up the night sky. The darkness that settled over the ocean barely allowed her to see where the beach ended a
nd the water began. Her heart pounded. Partly from fear, partly from nerves.
“I’m afraid of what I’m getting myself into,” she admitted.
He gripped her chin and turned her face until she was staring into his eyes. “It’s that innocence that is going to make you so good at this, mami,” he said. Her chin tingled where he touched, and she moved her face out of his grasp.
“Don’t run from me, Bleu. Come here,” he said flirtatiously as he turned over on top of her. “You’re so fucking sexy, shorty. Those lips … I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day. I bet that pussy’s fat.”
His words were playing with her head as she felt her nipples harden. Her head spun and, despite the cool air rushing in over the night sea, she felt her temperature rise. She was hot … too hot, and slightly nauseous as she tried to stand. What the hell is wrong with me? she thought as she placed a hand on her head, feeling her clammy skin. Her world had turned into a merry-go-round and her legs wobbled like twigs as her vision blurred. She fell back to the ground, disoriented.
“Wait,” she whispered as Cinco’s lips covered hers and his hands palmed her breasts. The weight of him pushed down on her as her back hit the sand. “Wait,” she repeated. “I’m dizzy, Cinco. I don’t feel good.”
“I can make you feel right, shorty,” he whispered as he licked her neck while simultaneously sliding her panties down. “Just relax. Stop fighting it. Just roll with the E, shorty.”
There it was. Like a bomb, exploding in her mind, his words rang out. She was rolling on Ecstasy. He had drugged her. Cinco had slipped it into her drink and now her body was betraying her. Right felt wrong and bad felt good. That’s why his touch turned her on so much. While her mind screamed in protest, her body was putty in his hands.
“Please stop,” she cried. His pursuit was relentless as he slipped a finger across her swollen clit. He rubbed her wetness between his fingers.
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