California. It would be their farthest trip from home. Cristal had never been to California. She’d heard so much about it and longed to see what the other side of the country looked and felt like. Unfortunately, it was going to be about business instead of pleasure, and she wasn’t going to L.A. to sightsee. She and Hugo could travel the world together with the fortune they attained, and live their lives without looking over their shoulders.
Cristal stood gazing at herself in the large bathroom mirror in Hugo’s bathroom. She was clad in a white, two-piece sheer pajama set. Her body looked remarkable in it. She was ready to give her man a night of unadulterated and steamy romance—pretty much fuck his brains out before she told him about her leaving for L.A. It was sudden news for them both, but she had taken a vow for the people she worked for. It was going to be hard. Hugo was already impatient with her way of living. He wanted a partner who was going to be there for him twenty-four-seven, not coming and going like a politician running for election. He could take care of Cristal and she would never have to want for anything in her life.
As Cristal gazed at her mirror image, she thought how she was going to tell Hugo about California. She sighed heavily. There was only one way to tell him: bluntly.
When she was about to walk into the bedroom, Hugo entered the bathroom with his eyes fixed on his young beauty. She looked stunning in her skimpy lingerie. Hugo walked toward her and placed a ring box on the marble countertop in front of her. Cristal was taken aback. It was obvious what it was. Next Hugo placed a chromed .9mm in front of her. Cristal was confused.
Hugo wrapped his arms around her, held her tightly, and stared at her mirror image as he gazed also at his own in the bathroom mirror.
“What’s the gun for?” Cristal asked.
“I love you so much, baby, and I want you in my life forever,” Hugo proclaimed with all his heart. “But I don’t want you fuckin’ lying to me. I don’t want to be played for a fuckin’ fool,” he then said through clenched teeth.
Cristal stood with an emotionless expression while being held in his muscular arms.
“What are you asking me?” Cristal replied.
“I just want the truth from you.”
“What?!” Cristal was slightly annoyed, and his gun wasn’t hardly fazing her. However, she pretended to be a little spooked that her life could actually be in danger.
“Are you fuckin’ somebody else?” Hugo demanded to know.
She was, but she couldn’t tell him the truth. She loved him too much and didn’t want to hurt him. However, her life was too complicated to explain it to Hugo. And if she did, where would she start?
“What?” Cristal acted befuddled by his question.
“Don’t play stupid with me, Elizabeth. I want to know what is going on with you. I’m no fool. You leaving and coming, in and out of town, sometimes you’re gone for days at a time. I never get to stay the night at your place, and you won’t move in with me. I want an explanation from you. No lies, the truth!” Hugo exclaimed. “I want you to become my wife. I want a baby. I want us to live happily. I’m ready to retire from the game, baby. I want us to live normal, but that can’t happen if you keep fuckin’ with me. I want to know what you are hiding.”
Cristal turned around in his arms to face him. They locked eyes, Hugo’s was glaring, and hers were defeated.
“I’m leaving for California in forty-eight hours,” she said out of the blue.
“What? California? For what?” Hugo growled.
Cristal looked at him for a moment. There was no escaping the truth. If Hugo knew about her affair with E.P., he would try to kill her. He wasn’t a man to mess around with. And no matter how she would explain fucking E.P., it would never be a logical enough explanation to the man who would die for her and most likely kill her if he caught her cheating.
Cristal wasn’t going to leave the bathroom intact until Hugo got a reasonable explanation from her. It was obvious in his eyes. She had to tell him something he was going to believe.
“Hugo, I don’t know how well you’re going to take this,” Cristal started.
Hugo scowled and kept close to Cristal. He was ready to hear the truth.
She locked eyes with him and whispered, “I . . . I . . . kill people for a living.”
“What? You fuckin’ expect me to believe some shit like that!” he retorted. “What am I, a fuckin’ idiot, Elizabeth?!”
Hugo snatched the gun from off the countertop and cocked it back.
“It’s the truth, Hugo!” Cristal screamed. “And my name’s not Elizabeth, it’s Cristal.”
“You fuckin’ can’t be honest with me, can you!” he shouted.
“How do you want me to prove it? It’s what I do! It’s what I’m good at and get paid well for,” Cristal exclaimed heatedly.
Hugo took a deep breath. It was a farfetched story coming from such a petite and beautiful woman. No one could believe her. But Cristal was adamant in getting her man to believe her. She’d already spilled the beans; she went on to say, “I work for a secret organization called the Commission. I’ve been killing for them for almost two years now. We were trained on a Farm somewhere unknown. They taught me everything—different languages to speak, shooting and disarming guns, poisons, explosive, computers—everything I need to know to kill.”
She still wasn’t believable to Hugo. He gripped the .9mm tightly. Cristal knew it was time to prove to him what she was talking about. She didn’t want to harm him. However, like lightning striking, she disarmed him, snatching the gun out of his hand and catching him off guard. She swiftly struck the side of his knee, crippling him somewhat, and kicked him down to the floor onto his back, leaving him stunned by the swift maneuver she carried out on him. Then she picked up the .9mm off the floor and took it apart like it was a Lego set crumbling in her hands.
Then Cristal spoke in German, “Glaubst du mir jetzt?”
Hugo was shocked. First, he outweighed her by over 100 pounds, and she’d dropped him to the ground like he was a feather. Then she spoke German and dismantled his firearm like it was some toy.
“What the fuck?” he uttered.
“I say to you, do you believe me now?”
Hugo didn’t know what to believe. The woman he loved was Columbiana and Kill Bill all put into one. Hugo slowly picked himself up from off the floor and was ready to listen to Cristal. She had his full attention. Cristal was ready to finally tell him everything about her life. She looked at him and said, “Where do I start?”
“Just talk to me,” Hugo replied coolly.
And Cristal did just that, she talked to him and told him about everything, from E.P.’s party, to the three months of intense and rigorous training on the Farm, to coming home to a different lifestyle, and the people she killed over the years. She told Hugo about the strict rules of the Commission, how much money she had made, the overseas account growing with interest, and the money she would have in the future. The only detail she kept from him was her continuing affair with E.P.
Hugo was stunned by everything she told him. He had to wrap his mind around it and think. She was the same person but different. Different name, different occupation—just different.
“Why at twenty-five?” he asked her about the Commission’s age of their killers retiring.
“I don’t know,” she responded.
“Don’t you find that kind of odd, Eliz—I, mean, Cristal?”
Cristal never knew why at twenty-five, they could go back to their normal lives and carry on with their money. She never truly questioned it. But it was odd. They talked for hours in the bathroom. Cristal told him her trip to California was to kill the Dinkins brothers who worked for a cartel. Hugo didn’t like it. It was too risky. Cristal told him she and her crew didn’t have a choice. If they didn’t carry out the hit then the Commission would come looking for them.
Hugo kis
sed her deeply, finally believing her story. They were learning each other every day, and keeping truthful. But he let it be known to Cristal that he didn’t fear the Commission like she did.
The night ended with them both promising to retire when she turned twenty-five. He was going to continue investing his blood money into legitimate businesses and separating himself from the streets. They both knew it would be the wise thing to do. But what Hugo wanted the most was a baby—a family, despite what the Commission said about its operatives having kids or families. Cristal was still adamant about not breaking the rules, which caused some tension between them. It was clear Hugo’s yearning for wanting a family was about to become a serious issue between them.
Twenty-Eight
Cristal took a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea while waiting for Tamar to show up. The Blue Chip bar-and-lounge in downtown Manhattan was a quaint after-work spot for white-collar employees looking to unwind and socialize after a hard day of work and business trading. In the evening, it was teeming with men in their long-sleeved, collared shirts and long ties, and women dressed in formal office attire. The chatter, laughing, and casual drinking were a daily routine. The Blue Chip bar really wasn’t Cristal’s setting, but it was a comfortable, neutral place where she was able to get away from everything and meet with Tamar in private.
While the men in the place were checking her out, Cristal sat alone at the table with a standoffish demeanor. Juggling two powerful men in her life was stressful enough, and becoming a top assassin added the icing to the cake. She felt relieved that Hugo knew the truth about her. She didn’t have to hide it anymore. They still had a lot of work to do if she wanted to continue with their relationship, but in her mind, it seemed like everything was going to be okay.
The girls had an early-morning flight to California in a few hours, but before they left, Cristal needed to have a serious talk with Tamar about her promiscuous and wild lifestyle.
Tamar pulled up to the Blue Chip bar in her new white SL Benz and stepped outside in the warm weather in True Religion skinny jeans and a tight shirt, her Jimmy Choos touching the pavement. She walked into the bar looking around for Cristal and spotted her seated at a corner table, alone.
Tamar strutted over with all the boys heavily eyeing her milkshake moving in the tight jeans. Tamar smiled at Cristal. Cristal stood up and the two hugged and greeted each other with love, but there was a steady air of resentment building between them.
“I’m glad you came,” Cristal sat back down and motioned for Tamar to sit.
“What’s so important that you had to talk about right before we fly out to L.A. to do a job?” Tamar asked, sitting down and leaning in.
“It’s you, and your lifestyle, Tamar.”
“My lifestyle?” Tamar spat with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, you’re creating too much attention on yourself—the partying, the whoring around with these men every night. It’s not good for us or our business,” said Cristal.
Tamar snickered and leaned back in the chair. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Bitch, who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?” Tamar snapped. “You the last one to talk about whoring when you been slinging your pussy like it’s a ping pong ball ’tween two niggas.” It was said loud enough for people in their surrounding area to hear.
Cristal was taken aback. Which two niggas? How could Tamar know about Hugo? And if she knew, did that mean E.P. knew as well? Before she panicked, she realized that fucking Hugo wasn’t breaking any Commission rules.
“Tamar, this isn’t about me—”
“Yes it is. You think cuz you fuckin’ E.P. that you got the authority to tell me how to live my life? Bitch, please!”
“Tamar, I’m just trying to help you.”
“Help me?” Tamar chuckled. “Help yourself, Cristal, and tell both those niggas you fucking the truth.”
Once again Tamar spoke authoritatively as if she knew exactly who Cristal was fucking, yet she evasively didn’t mention Hugo’s name. Cristal knew Tamar wanted her to ask how she knew about Hugo, but she was too smart to go there.
She exhaled noisily. “Tamar did you forget? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here today. I’m the one that made you and got you started. I’m the one E.P. had an eye for, and the one that brought you into this business. We made lots of money this year because of me, and don’t you dare fuckin’ forget that! And I’m not trying to have you fuck this up for us!” Cristal said through clenched teeth.
“Yes, boss, I didn’t forget. But riddle me this . . . how is my pussy gonna fuck things up?” Tamar asked. “You must be drinking that Commission flavored Kool-Aid.”
“All I’m saying is that we gotta keep a low profile, so you can’t be bringing too many niggas around and having them in our business. If we want to move up—”
Tamar rose from the table. “I think something went real wrong with ya mind back at that Farm.” She leaned in really close to Cristal’s face, her eyes filled with rage, and whispered in a raspy, strained voice, “Don’t . . . fuck . . . with . . . me!”
“Tamar.”
“Fuck you, bitch!”
She pivoted on her high heels and stormed toward the exit. Everyone in the bar was shocked at Tamar’s heated outburst. Cristal was left sitting there like she had egg on her face. Tomorrow they had to fly out to California; they had a major hit to do in L.A. and things were looking sour in her crew. It was about teamwork, but the team seemed to be falling apart.
...
Sharon stared at her image in the bathroom mirror and felt like a new woman. She smiled and rubbed her head. Her natural afro was gone and her head was shaven low like Sinead O’ Connor’s. She looked good. The impulsive transformation of cutting off the natural locks that she’d been growing out for years gave her the courage to proceed with her next step. She missed Pike greatly. He was still in her heart, but it had been almost two years since his death, and Sharon was tired of grieving. The men responsible for murdering the man she loved still hadn’t been caught. She was infuriated by the insufficient homicide investigation by the local precinct. In Sharon’s eyes, they didn’t care. To them, Pike was just another black man dead. They considered him a drug dealer and a menace to society.
So she was ready to take the initiative and take matters into her own hands, and make right what she felt was wrong. She was ready to take the necessary actions to change things, and the only way she saw that happening was leaving Brooklyn to join the police academy. She wanted to become a cop. She wanted to become something that her neighborhood needed, law and order—justice to be served. She was smart and ready to climb the ranks, and maybe in a few years become a homicide detective and solve Pike’s cold case.
Sharon continued to look at her mirror image. The new her stared back, proud and strong. On the bathroom countertop was the completed application to join the police force. She was ready to become an NYPD recruit. It would surprise her friends, because becoming a cop was just as low as becoming a snitch in her hood. But she didn’t care what people thought. In her mind, it was the right thing to do.
In six months, she would be Officer Sharon Green. There was a nice ring to that.
...
Hugo sat in the office to his strip club with the door closed and the music blaring outside. He smoked a cigar while seated in his high-backed leather chair and exhaled smoke. He had a lot on his mind. What Cristal told him was probably more than he bargained for. A hired female assassin—it was shit he saw in the movies and it was the last thing he expected Cristal to tell him. It was something farfetched and dangerous, but then again, his life was dangerous too.
They constantly argued about having children. He was ready to have a Hugo Jr. or a young princess of his own. A baby was like a new toy to him, but the reason he stressed having kids immediately was because he wanted to give his mother grandchild
ren before she died. It was one of her wishes to see grandchildren she could love and play with. His mother, who was in remission, was getting old and weaker every year.
Hugo leaned back in his chair while smoking his cigar and thinking about his girl’s safety. She was out in L.A., and there was no way he could protect her from three thousand miles away. It seemed like Cristal knew how to handle herself. Hugo sighed and stared at the security monitors on the wall overseeing various activities going on inside his strip club. He saw one beautiful club stripper approaching his office carrying a tray of vodka. She knocked twice.
“Come in,” he said.
The office door opened and in stepped Mesha, scantily clad in a pink thong consumed by her plump booty and a matching bikini top and six inch stilettos. She smiled at Hugo while bringing the vodka-and-Sprite he asked for. She set the drink on his desk in front of him and said, “You look like a man with a lot on his mind.”
“I am,” Hugo returned.
“Well you always know that I’m good listener,” she said with a warm smile.
He smiled too. He took a strong pull from his cigar and stared at Mesha’s scantily clad figure. The woman had more curves than the letter S and tits like a video vixen. She was eye candy, a man’s wet dream.
After catching her assault case, which was subsequently thrown out by the judge, she took to stripping. It was easy money and an escape after Pike’s murder.
Murdergram, Part 1 Page 23