Pretty Kings 4

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Pretty Kings 4 Page 2

by T. Styles


  Upon hearing Kevin’s words Ramirez held his head down.

  I took a seat and seconds later felt Kevin’s firm hand on my shoulder. “Look, we at war,” Kevin continued. “There’s no two ways to say it and I don’t think neither Bambi or I should have to repeat ourselves.” He took a deep breath. “Now what does that mean? It means that since the world won’t stop revolving while we survive yet another attempt on our lives, we have to move with extra security everywhere we go. Or stay in this house until it’s clear.”

  I looked up at Race, Scarlett and Denim who were staring directly at me waiting on my word. They wanted to know what I felt. It was as if Kevin was in charge of the men and me the girls. I realized I looked weak but after losing my son I didn’t have the strength these days to move the way I used to.

  Who could be strong after losing a child?

  Even one who hated me.

  If we were gonna make it this time I would need their help.

  Race shrugged. “I’m not gonna hold the cross and complain about it. I mean…we dope dealers and I guess this comes with the territory.”

  I looked at Denim. “You already know I’m gonna do what’s necessary, Bambi.” She stood up. “But let me go check on my husband. He’s pretty upset about it all.” Denim walked away.

  My eyes then fell on Scarlett. “Ya’ll know I’m not much of a fighter. But I’ll continue to do my part by manning the Dope Phone. I just want us to remember we picking up Master today, which raises an additional concern we have to worry about.”

  “Things will be fine,” Kevin said pointing at her. “Trust me.”

  “I understand and I want to believe you. But maybe we shouldn’t get him now,” Scarlett continued. “I mean…maybe we should let him stay with the Reverend until—”

  “That boy is a Kennedy and my brother’s son.” Kevin yelled speaking a bit louder. “And I want him home where he belongs.”

  Scarlett nodded but it was obvious she didn’t want Master here and with her past I wasn’t sure if now was a good idea either. At the end of the day Scarlett lost her daughter because she was a child abuser, what’s to say she wouldn’t do the same to Master? I mean, I had all intentions on keeping an eye on her and my nephew but I wasn’t moving the same.

  I didn’t feel the same.

  About life.

  Ramirez sighed. “Brother, you know my motto. No guns formed against the Kennedy’s shall prosper. Whatever you need me to do I’ll do.” He tapped Race on the shoulder and they both exited the meeting, leaving us alone.

  Now it was silent.

  Kevin reduced his height by sitting next to me, letting out an exasperated breath. With a firm but gentle hand he rubbed my back before raising my chin so that our eyes met. “You being too hard on yourself.”

  “Kevin…”

  “Listen to me. I love my family and you know I would die for each one of the niggas in this house. But we can’t put the weight of their existence on our shoulders.”

  “At the same time this family can’t handle any more loss,” I whispered.

  He nodded. “We will handle whatever comes our way. We are Kennedy’s and so we do what we must.”

  I sighed. “Why does everything seem to be happening at once?”

  “Who are you?”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “I asked what’s your fucking name!”

  I sat up straight, thinking he was going crazy with this split personality shit. One minute he was consoling me and the next he was flipping. “Bambi. Bambi Kennedy.”

  “Remember that shit. Because the next time you play weak in front of the family I might have to rethink that ring on your finger.” He stood up and stomped away.

  RACE KENNEDY

  Ramirez was sitting on our bed, staring in my direction and he’s getting on my fucking nerves. I’m like give me five seconds alone…PLEASE!

  When I looked over at him I noticed he kept rubbing his hands on his jeans like they were moist. Which is something he always did when he wanted his dick sucked.

  Boy, bye.

  Lately he tried too hard to get us back to where we used to be and I was starting to resent giving our marriage another chance. When I said I would try I thought we would talk about the past minimally. To be honest I preferred to take it slow, make love and try to become friends again.

  But he was playing me too close, wanting things to be the way they used to be when I was young and dumb. It wasn’t happening.

  I didn’t feel like talking to him about if I still thought about how he went outside of the threesome arrangement we made with Carey, to see her without me. Or that he got her pregnant. I killed the bitch even though I cared about her and it was time to move on.

  In my mind she was no longer relevant.

  How could she be?

  She was dead.

  His consistent persistence and pushing the relationship to be as it was before his deceit was the main reason I met someone new. Well, not necessarily met but it felt good to have someone to talk too outside of the Kennedy Klan. A bitch could talk about drugs and paper for so long before her pussy dried up.

  Unaffiliated with dope, my new friend provided relief and an escape and I enjoyed him for it.

  I was standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, when I grabbed one of the wet wipes to clean the makeup off my face. When I turned around Ramirez was naked, rubbing his stiff black dick and staring at me like a perv. “Come over here and kiss it for me.”

  I knew it. He was trying to fuck.

  And I wanted to throw up.

  Back in the day when he wanted to get freaky I would drop everything to fulfill his desire but that was pre Race Kennedy, the drug boss. I was no longer naive and lately it seemed like everything he did was a turn off.

  I grabbed his navy blue Polo velvet robe off the back of the chair and threw it in his face. “Cover yourself. You look like a whore.”

  He stabbed his arms through each hole of the robe, rushed up to me and grabbed my medium length hair, yanking it hard. I smiled despite the pain and feeling the anger steaming off his skin. “I know we got our problems but I’m not about to let you disrespect me, Race. Get that shit outta your head right now.”

  I looked up at him. “Get…the…fuck…off…me…Ramirez.”

  Slowly he released his death grip. “I’m sick of this shit. I need to know if you want to be with me or not!” He pointed at the floor. “I’m not gonna keep apologizing for some shit I did back in ’72.”

  I giggled in his face. “I know you don’t got your years that fucked up.”

  “You know what I mean. It was a long time ago. Let the past float away.”

  “So what you doing now, Ramirez?” I rubbed my throbbing scalp. “Threatening to find another whore? If so have at it.”

  “I don’t want anybody else, Race. The only woman for me is you.”

  “Then why you keep acting like you doing me a favor by being with me?” I paused. “Huh? Every time you don’t get your way you do this shit and I’m tired of it, Ramirez. I’m tired of feeling like if I don’t perform in the right way you’ll go to your second in pussy command. This is me. Either get use to it or cut me off. Your choice and if the truth is present I don’t give a fuck no more.”

  I wiped the rest of my makeup off and he stared at me the entire time through the mirror with disdain. If I didn’t know him well enough I would assume he was contemplating killing me. When my phone rang I smiled when I saw it was a text message from my ‘New Friend’.

  Grabbing it I said, “I gotta take this.” I made a move for the door and he blocked me with his hating ass.

  His arms crossed tightly in front of him, robe hanging open he said, “Let me see what’s on that phone.” He pointed at it.

  I grinned. “Do you really want me to pull your phone out and start going through shit?” He stepped out of my way. “I thought so.”

  I walked to the second floor bathroom, sat on the edge of the tub and texted my frien
d back:

  TEXT MESSAGE

  ME: Sorry so late. Was held up.

  NEW FRIEND: It’s okay. You’re worth waiting on.

  I smiled and he didn’t say anything real yet.

  The creepiest part is I hadn’t even met this man in person and already I was cheesing. How we came about was actually strange. I was doing some FX makeup for a client on an indie project a few months back, during the Mitch era. The movie was about the street life and two brothers who made a decision to date the same woman because she was perfect to both of them. On the makeup set that day there was only the director, who was handsome, two actors, who were also attractive and the wardrobe guy who was gay.

  So I knew it couldn’t be him.

  After leaving the set I wasn’t even in my car for five minutes before I received a text message from a number that was unknown. My New Friend said he wanted to say something to me on set but he realized I was married. And that the coward part of him wanted to say something anyway but was too afraid of being shut down. Still, the man in him couldn’t let me walk away forever without at least trying.

  And I was intrigued.

  I’m in an unfulfilled marriage and being a major drug dealer means leading an isolated life. So if this person wanted to be a part of my world than I was willing to take a chance. I didn’t even ask whether he was the director or one of the actors because it didn’t matter. I queried him on some facts that occurred on set to be sure he was really there and he had me.

  I wanted adventure and had no intention on taking it further than text. At least that’s what I told myself.

  He was like a digital pen pal.

  My little secret.

  TEXT MESSAGE

  ME: You always know what to say to me.

  There was a very long row of silence and I felt alone again. Suddenly my expression lightened when he responded.

  TEXT MESSAGE

  New Friend: One day soon we have to meet again. I need to feel you in my arms. That is…if it’s okay with you.

  I took a few moments to respond. I know Ramirez and I went outside of our marriage to fuck a bitch or two but we were always in agreement. Ramirez was the one who took it a step further by seeing Carey, without me, and falling in love. But if I agreed to meet my New Friend I would be an adulterer too and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take such a major step in the opposite direction. My betrayal could mean the end of our marriage and I knew I loved Ramirez.

  Just didn’t like him very much at the moment.

  Everything was on the line.

  Especially my peace of mind.

  My thumbs grazed over the warm screen of my phone and finally I typed my answer.

  TEXT MESSAGE

  ME: I’m ready whenever you are. Just say the word.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SCARLETT KENNEDY

  I had the phone pressed against my ear as I sat on the comfortable black couch in my room.

  I don’t know what made me stay in the lair we created for Mitch upstairs in the attic and field the calls for dope drops. Not just for the DMV (DC, Maryland & Virginia) but also for around the world. Maybe it was because it was luxurious, private and quaint. No matter my reason my desire to stay in the piece of heaven in the compound meant I had to take some serious responsibilities. With Sarge’s help since he had been working directly with Mitch before Bambi took him out, the operation ran smoothly.

  And it needed to continue to run smoothly for me to justify my existence. I was Sarge’s support system.

  Besides, the world thought Mitch was still alive and this was necessary because the cocaine plant he built in Mexico would only work for him. One sign of mutiny or Mitch’s death and the manufacturers would probably take the operation from us. Luckily Sarge built a bond with Mitch prior to his death that included talking to our manufactures and facilitating distribution around the world. Things went on without a hitch.

  “Yes, we have it and the fresh fruit will be delivered to your restaurant tonight.” I sat back in the plush recliner, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This secretary shit was the pits. “No problem, sir.”

  Of course we weren’t delivering fresh fruit or talking to sirs. I was chatting with dope dealers and killers. But you couldn’t necessarily say cocaine over the phone either. Even if the lines were what we considered untraceable or tap-proof.

  I placed the phone down and when I opened my eyes Ramirez was standing in my room. I leapt up and looked out the door he just strolled through before moving back over to him. “What you doing up here?”

  Unconsciously I rubbed the sides of my red hair that was pulled in a tight bun on top of my head, before gazing down and checking my True Religion blue jeans and black top for flaws.

  “Just seeing about you.” He smiled and I wished he’d stop. “No need in looking over yourself, you look perfect.”

  I tried not to smile because my beauty was the only real thing I had in this world. I paced the floor and placed my hands on the side of my head. “Ramirez, we can’t—”

  He moved closer and I inhaled his cologne. Damn he smelled good and I’m sure Race couldn’t keep her hands off of him. “I just want to see how you doing, Scarlett. Ever since we made love you walk around the house ignoring me. Did I do something wrong? Didn’t I make you feel good?” He reached for my hand and I pulled away.

  “I’m your sister-in-law. We aren’t supposed to be fucking. You know that so why the games?”

  He smiled but it drifted away quickly. “In Roman times when the brother died the widow automatically went to the brother. Camp ain’t here no more, the least I can do is take care of you by making you feel good. Can you let me do that without the games?”

  I crossed my arms over my breasts. “Except you’re forgetting one problem, you’re married already.”

  He looked down on the floor. “It was a bad joke. Especially considering Camp died not too—”

  “I can’t have sex with you no more! I can’t sleep with you knowing you belong to Race. Please don’t try and make me. I’m begging you.”

  He laughed. “Actually I don’t know if you can say that anymore. I’m talking about the me belonging to Race part.”

  He walked closer and I could feel my pressure rising and my clit thumping inside my black lace thong. What I wasn’t sure about was why he turned me on the way he did. Maybe it was the danger, who knows? I never allowed myself enough time to think about what we did together when I was alone because my betrayal hurt too much.

  To give us space I extended my hand. “That’s close enough, Ramirez. And what do you mean about Race?”

  “She doesn’t want to be with me.” He shrugged. “In that way.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “I expect you to hear the truth, Scarlett.” He frowned. “And why do you seem afraid of me now?”

  “You’re dangerous. And you know it.”

  “I just want to be your friend, sexy.” He grabbed my arm, pulled me closer and placed his nose into the pit of my neck. He might as well have kissed it or licked it because the feeling was the same.

  Erotic.

  “I just want to smell you…”

  I sighed and shoved him. “Please stop!”

  My push was weaker than I wanted but still I gave it a try. Finally I took a deep breath and completely separated my body from his. Trust me when I tell you it took a lot. More than I had in my soul.

  “You are not to come back here again, Ramirez.”

  He flashed his smile. “You sure about that?”

  “I’m positive. Why you ask that anyway?”

  “Because you holding the cuff of my shirt.”

  I looked down at my hand, grasping the cotton and quickly let him go, before wiping my sweaty hands down my jeans. “Ramirez, do not come back here.” I took a deep breath. “I’m serious.”

  “If I don’t listen what will you do? Because I’m a Kennedy.” His expression grew serious. “And a Kennedy nigga always gets what he wants.
You know that.”

  And then I saw something.

  Oh no!

  I frowned and looked over his shoulder. I felt like I had been gut punched at who was watching us, standing in the doorway. Ramirez turned around and joined me as we both focused on Bambi gazing in our direction. He cleared his throat, stepped further away from me before looking at Bambi. “I’m going to check on Race.”

  He walked out the room.

  When he first came here I wanted him gone and suddenly I felt terribly alone. Like the other woman who’d been caught with a man who didn’t belong to her. By a family member at that.

  My marriage to Camp made me a Kennedy but we weren’t together anymore, even before he died. In truth I was just an outsider trying to do my best to keep this family in my life.

  To show my worth.

  And I wanted nothing more than to remain a Kennedy.

  My mind fluttered and I needed desperately to know how much she heard but was too afraid to ask.

  So I just stood in front of her.

  Waiting.

  Possibly for her to tell me to get out like Camp had so many times when we failed to agree.

  “You ready to get Master?” She asked in a low tone.

  She was letting this go? She wasn’t going to even question why he was in my room? My jaw hung but I quickly raised it again. “Uh…yes…when did you…wanna…?”

  “Let’s go now.” She walked away.

  She seemed cold.

  Her response short.

  But I definitely realized that she knew something.

  The only question was how much.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BAMBI

  “Where the hell is Scarlett?” Race asked me as we paced in the foyer of the living room. She was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago but she was missing in action. I was about to go get her when she walked downstairs, a look of guilt fresh on her face.

 

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