by Aija Monique
* * *
“Hey, girl,” Brandy said, as she bounced into her girlfriend’s house. Cindy was moving her mouth about, anxious to see what kind of goodies Brandy brought along with her. She was one of Brandy’s drug-addicted friends. Brandy was excited to get high. Cyrus had done her right. He gave her a few lines of cocaine to do solo and gave her a nice supply of meth and cocaine to feed the cravings during the week while he was gone.
Cyrus told Brandy to stay put, keep her mouth closed, and do what she did best. Get high! If Phil had known she was back on drugs, he would kill her for sure. He sold the shit but was dead set against using. His kids meant the world, and he’d kill for them without question.
Cyrus was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He fed upon Brandy’s addiction because he needed the money. He more than doubled the score he needed to get out of debt, and he’d keep his promise to pay the headhunters looking for her in order to protect Phil’s son. Trip was Cyrus was holding on to the money because he didn’t know how to let it go.
Cindy rubbed her hands together in anticipation of Brandy’s candy bag. Brandy always called her drug treats candy. It’s what kids craved, and she had a sweet tooth. Cindy was so excited she started cleaning off her area of the table so she could focus on the act of getting high.
“I did it!” Brandy spoke out of the blue. She was in full confession mode, tweaking and hitting the cigarette as if it were a blunt. Brandy couldn’t hold water when she was high. She would tell the police directly if she was stopped for any reason and implicate whomever helped her if that was the case.
“You did what?” Cindy got agitated, afraid she’d used already and there wasn’t much left.
“I killed that bitch. I got the bread to save my son too.” Brandy was rocking hard and fast like she was in a blizzard, but sitting in a cozy temperature.
“What the fuck? Where’s the money?” Cindy inquired. She knew Brandy would cut her in on the deal. She wasn’t sure she would take the money, but this bitch really went and killed a bitch.
“Cyrus took it!”
* * *
Phil’s concern for Cyrus’s whereabouts had since turned to blind fury. He was certain he had something to do with Porsha’s murder. Cyrus cleaned things up when there was too much conflicts. Porsha had become a liability. It was either his ass or someone from the blocks they’d robbed. Phil couldn’t argue with the code of the streets if Porsha just got caught up. He was sad to see her go, but her death was actually a godsend. Phil could reenter society as he once knew it, placing blame for the missing funds on her.
Now this whole Bonnie and Clyde, Hood Robin thing could just die. Phil could claim her head and set search for a nigga’s head. He could claim to have been Clyde and just do him. The plan was blossoming right before him as he took the drive up to Merced to meet Brandy and her son at her mom’s. He was sure she’d made it by now.
Phil had to admit he missed Shun. He couldn’t imagine what he must be thinking. His only family out chasin’ pussy while he waited for death in his hospital room. Only, Phil felt a little bit of abandonment on Shun’s part as well. Phil had yet to come to terms with the fact that Shun kept him in jail to protect him. Porsha bailed him out as a part of her own agenda. She was the real reason he was in all this mess.
“Damn, was the pussy that good?” Phil asked himself as he realized just how dumb he’d been. He prayed that his cousin would give him a chance to explain. First things first, he had to get the hell out of town for a few days until shit calmed the fuck down. He was gallivanting in a dead woman’s car. The whole daddy dearest thing would be a perfect alibi, and it would shut Brandy up about his seeing little Phil on a regular basis.
Phil’s phone rang for about the fifth time before he took notice. He hurried to answer without even looking at the caller ID.
“Yeah!” he answered a bit shaky.
“Baby?” Phil’s collegiate queen answered properly, excited to hear his voice.
“Monica?” Phil questioned, before exhaling and curling up to an inviting spirit. He was glad she phoned. He was in need of someone he could trust.
* * *
Before Shun knew it, he’d downed ten shots of Henny and a cold draft. He was watching the news on the big screen when it flashed. Police were investigating a homicide that took place in the heart of Kern County earlier that evening. Shun looked on as if the news of Porsha’s death didn’t faze him. He was so tired of running and having to fight, he would just about trade places.
He’d almost forgotten about the little run-in he’d had with one of Cyrus’s so-called runners. Shun was beginning to wonder just how solid Cyrus and his business dealings were. He laughed at himself as he thought about requiring niggas to submit a résumé before running in the same pack with him. He was dead ass. Presently, he felt well in his right to ask niggas for credentials. This drug game was legit. It was illegal, but it was still a business.
Shun was falling asleep at the bar, so the bartender asked him to call for a ride. He looked at the bartender for some time before he obliged. He didn’t take kindly to direction. Shun reached into his pockets, fiddling around for his phone. He hoped that Cyrus would pick up. His wounds had begun to bleed from his alcohol intake.
Shun rang Cyrus’s phone, who was talking shit as it rang.
“Yeah, what’s up? Whatcha need? Aye, hit me!” Cyrus was all over the place as he answered Shun’s call, busy talking to the dealer. Cyrus was so hyper he resembled a crackhead dancing after a good hit.
“Where the fuck you at? The house or at that gambling hall?”
Cyrus looked into the phone wide-eyed and quickly hung up. “Damn! What else Shun know?”
Shun was so angry he was shaking. “Did this nigga just hang up on me?” he questioned himself.
CHAPTER 10
Corporate Intoxication
Phil smiled endlessly as he chopped it up with Monica briefly. They hung up confirming that he’d come up to Fresno for the weekend. He was already on the road, so he figured he’d stop there for a few days before settling in Merced with Brandy for a few weeks. He had nothing but time. Perhaps he could figure out a place to stash Porsha’s car and get something new.
* * *
Shun lay down in his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was really trippin’ off Cyrus. Cyrus was going to do what he wanted, regardless of the consequences. That was the fucked-up part because now, he was involved. Shun knew he’d be ready for the showdown either way. Money was definitely on his mind, and contacting Frankie was first on the agenda in the morning. He’d made a conscious effort to get in touch with Phil. So it was his move. He was more than willing to rectify the situation by having a meeting, but first, he had things to do as well.
The nurse paced back and forth in Shun’s living room. She contemplated knocking on Shun’s door to make sure he was okay. She’d heard the news about Porsha and had some concerns about Shun’s dealing with things after he dragged in drunk just a few hours earlier. She’d grown quite attached to him since his shooting. Shaking the thoughts of prying further into his business, she decided against approaching him and settled for a long hot shower.
The nurse had made herself at home since her first visit. She was Cyrus’s girl but had a thing for Shun. His strength and positive attitude about his injuries up until the present was an attractive trait.
Shun moaned loudly as he turned over on a sensitive spot on his side. He quickly covered his mouth in embarrassment, unintentionally sounding like a little bitch over a sore muscle. He’d really put some wear and tear on his body without being fully healed. The slight jog he had when he bounced out of his car to see if he could save Porsha was the jump-off. Then getting in and out of his car. Lastly, the alcohol didn’t do him justice at all.
Sophia, Shun’s stolen nurse, heard his outcry. She was soaking her thoughts under a calming warm shower when she heard Shun just as she turned it off. Sophia hadn’t stopped to get fully dressed. She barely towel dried and thr
ew on an oversized tee before rushing out of the bathroom.
“You okay? Are you pain? I think you’re due for some pain meds, if needed.”
Shun turned slightly to meet her presence but could barely move. “I’m not sure. I’m just in so much pain.” He tried to concentrate on Sophia’s question, but his eyes were wandering about her entire body. Her breasts were beautiful under her white tee, her nipples hard and looking succulent. His mouth began to water.
“I don’t want any meds. I don’t want to sleep. I need to think.” Shun tried to sit up a little in his bed.
His muscles were chiseled and smooth around his pecs. Sophia’s knees buckled a bit. Even Shun’s bandages looked good.
“About?” Sophia walked over to him and touched his arm slightly. She always did this to let him know that she was going to check or change his bandages. Only this time, when she touched him, Shun reciprocated and pulled her close to him.
His hands traveled down her legs and under her shirt. He was curious to know if she was wearing panties, and was met with a pleasant surprise. She was naked. All but the tee that hung off her right shoulder. Sophia’s breath caught as she awaited Shun’s hands to embrace the creamy center of her thighs.
“I don’t want to hurt or take advantage of you,” Shun spoke, tearing his eyes away from the rise and fall of her stomach. Her breathing accelerated as his hands traveled closer to her wetness. “Please don’t be afraid of me.” Shun continued as he watched her eyes close.
“I know.” Sophia came closer to him and eased her way in bed, climbing carefully over him. She nestled her body close to his and gently lay her head on his chest. Shun was quiet as he took in her smell. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her.
“Now talk to me,” Sophia said softly, as she traced circles around his chest, careful not to disturb his bandages.
* * *
The news about Porsha’s death brought about the truths of her conniving, deceptive ways. News reporters were now saying the case was somewhat high profile. Porsha’s father was some sort of international business owner.
“Looks like the old man got stacks upon stacks on deck,” Cyrus spoke loudly over the crowd, as the news talked of the shooting. “Whoever popped her would’ve been better off kidnapping her and holding her for ransom.” Cyrus joked as he asked to join the next hand of cards.
“You sure about that, bro? Looks like your money bag is a little light since you first entered the bar.”
Cyrus’s high started to immediately come down. “Come on, man, you know I’m good for it.”
“Actually, you are pretty brave coming in my gambling bar as if you have paid me my money, Cyrus.” A voice came from behind Cyrus that knocked the wind out of him.
Without thinking or turning around to meet his fate, Cyrus threw his cards and knocked the table over in front of him, drawing his weapon. Only, Cyrus was sloppy drunk. It wasn’t a good look at all. He ran like the wind, weaving in and out of the bar, trying desperately to get the hell out of there before shots were fired. Cyrus was definitely out of breath. It’d been some time since his football days.
“Get him!” the burly man in a three-piece silk suit demanded. Three men moved swiftly to the exit of the bar.
Cyrus was happy he made it out alive. If only he could make it to his car, he’d be free and clear. He was getting nervous as he got closer to his whip. Fear began to cover him. Without a weapon, he was doomed. The clumsy drunk had dropped his gun shortly after whipping it out in the bar. He was getting sloppy, allowing his clouded emotions to override reason. Cyrus tried to think of a quick plan, but the booze clouded his vision. He could hear the three once-gentle giants right on his tail. He was fidgety. His keys fell down on the ground as he tried to put the key into the door.
Suddenly, it all went black. One of the men hit Cyrus straight in the temple, blindsiding him. He fell over like a cut tree. Blood ran from his mouth, coloring the wet pavement a nice shiny red. Cyrus’s tumble to the ground was only the beginning of the thrashing. The men continued to beat him. They spit on him and demanded that he pay Tommy his money within a week. One of the bouncers joked about allotting time for him to heal his broken bones just enough to pick up the phone and let them know when and where to pick up the money. Cyrus moved about the ground, looking for help and trying to reach down into his leather bomber for a phone. One of the men looked on as he tried to get his arm free.
“You need help, Cy?” The man threw Cyrus’s body over and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. He hit the call log and saw Shun’s number at the top. He hit “call” and waited for an answer.
* * *
Sophia lay with a blank stare as she massaged Shun’s dick as he spoke. He was moaning slightly with each word. She thought that was so cute. She got a kick out of how she made him feel as he lay there, baring his soul to her. She felt special.
Shun breathed in and out slowly as Sophia’s soft hands made him rock hard. His mind began to wonder how sweet she must taste. He was reluctant to take things further since he was in so much pain. He didn’t know what the situation was in its entirety with her and Cyrus.
Shun was in the middle of his talk about how he and Phil grew up. It was hard in the streets for the two of them, especially for Phil. With both parents on some type of drug and no positive role model to guide him, his fate had become an imprint before he could decide what he wanted. Shun had his grandmother to train him, even though back then, he couldn’t understand why she was so strict. He loved her more in the present days. Because of her, he, at least, got to feel the crisp air from beyond the hood. Phil was his bodyguard back then. Shun smiled as he thought about all the fights he and Phil got into and how many times they got caught and Phil took the rap for the entire incident.
Shun began to feel guilty for not taking Phil in on his drug dealings at first. Only, he was just trying to make sure he approached his potential clients correctly. He made a calculated mistake involving Junior. Junior had had his back in prison, so he trusted him. Shun had no idea that Junior was using drugs. As for Phil, he didn’t want to change Phil. He was loyal. He was just hood bound as fuck and not in tune with changes that could prove to be very lucrative.
Shun looked down at Sophia. She was fast asleep. He was in awe of her beauty, something he hadn’t taken much notice of before. He was so busy being worried about money and survival that love took a backseat. He’d already lost a potential mate. He didn’t want to lose another. He didn’t want to involve her in the madness of his life, either.
Shun’s phone began to ring loudly, awakening Sophia from her nap. She bounced up quickly, apologizing for falling asleep on him. Shun just smiled as he caught a glimpse of her clit as she gingerly crawled out of the far end of his California King.
“Can you pass me my phone, hon?” Shun’s last word indicated that she now belonged to him. Sophia blushed, trying hard to hide it from him, but he could see her cheeks rise from the side view of her face. She dropped down to the floor to grab his phone.
“It’s Cyrus.” Sophia looked worried, as if he had caught them making love.
“Pass me the phone.” Shun’s attitude completely changed. He got into character just as he answered the phone.
“Yo! Where the fuck you at? What’s up wit’ you, ma nigga?”
“Yo, this ain’t ya boy, but I’m calling with a word of advisement. You might want to get down here to your local gambling establishment and scrape ole Cy from the pavement here. I’d recommend you call a bus too. He’s bleeding pretty bad.” The man hung up the phone.
CHAPTER 11
The Truth Is Blinding
Monica jogged down the steps from her anatomy class excited to get back to her dorm apartment. She was so excited to see Phil. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a month. With finals and all, she had to keep a clear head. Monica blushed at the thought of wrapping her arms around Phil. She so wanted to be with him on a long-term basis but knew her family wouldn’t go for it.
Monica brushed off the ideas of her father’s discomfort about her and Phil as she opened the door to her apartment.
She dropped her bags just in front of the door when she noticed Phil’s leather coat draped on the back of the sofa. She was so excited she jumped up and down and ran to her bedroom to see if he was lurking about. There he was, peeking out of her closet.
“Babe!” Monica said as she ran to Phil and jumped into his arms.
Phil closed the closet door and picked up his cheerleader and spun her around. “I missed you.”
Phil smiled, kissing her deep and passionately. He felt so safe with Monica, like he was in another world. She was prissy and educated. She was black but so different from the black girls he’d encountered in the hood. Monica had class and drive. She’d never been pregnant or promiscuous. She was wife material. Only, he didn’t want to involve Monica in his lifestyle. He wanted to provide a stable environment for her, which was the main reason he told her to listen to her father. Monica would do just about anything for Phil, and he was afraid she’d even drop out of school to be with him.
Phil made every effort to make their long-distance relationship work. His main concern was her education. He made sure to visit on dates of importance and listen when she was having a time at school and needed a neutral ear. Talking to her father about troubles was unheard of. In his eyes, there was nothing money couldn’t solve. Phil understood the concept, but he also knew what it felt like to be alone and expected to carry the load.