Loving a Colombian Cartel Thug 2 (Loving a Columbian Cartel Thug)

by K'Aliyah Knight

  The long walk-in closet has more clothes then I can wear before they even go out of season. Each item fits me perfectly, from the Victoria Secret panties to the Manolo’s. I settle for a little black dress and Christian pumps. I’m in all black like my bae always wears.

  When we get into the fleet of Escalades lined up in front of Lorenzo’s crib, I'm surprised as a crew of dudes gets into a third SUV and follow us up a steep hill to an even bigger mansion.

  Santi is woven into the wrought iron gates. SM is all over the place and I can only guess Santiago Mendoza has Alzheimer’s or the muthafucka is just that into himself.

  Never met Santiago, but I know he’s the one standing between two big dudes with guns. A white linen pants and white cotton button up goes well against his dark brown skin. Santi has slick, black hair with a silver streak. When he opens his mouth to smile, super pearly teeth flash. The dude is too damn perfect. Okay, he is even fine like one of those Telenovela stars, but there’s something about him. I don't trust him for shit.

  Santiago eats me up while Lorenzo helps me out the car. Soon as Lorenzo is done, Santi isn't staring at me so hard but comes in for a friendly hug.

  “Mi Bonita, Lorenzo, you dirty fucking dog. She's beautiful!” Santi smiles.

  “Hi...” I let go. Santiago hugs his nieces, knowing them by name; even Lakitha, who was born and raised in Illinois. He stops at Rita last.

  “Margarita!” he proclaims. I happy and tearful about the reunion, till his big sister looks straight through him. Santiago hugs her tightly. “Mi Bonita, the prodigal sister has returned.”

  Rita’s arms stay down at her sides as she’s smothered with love. It feels like an eternity then, Santiago lets her go. “Come, come,” he moves all debonair while turning around. And if I wasn’t so impressed with how flashy and fake Santiago is I would have wondered if she would stick a dagger in his back when he turns to lead us up the path but no. Rita doesn't budge. We make it through a long open hallway and into a dining room that must fit 40 at a long table all decked out with food.

  “I ain't eating with all these guns around,” I whisper to Lorenzo.

  “Damn girl you still on one?” He picks up my fork, with his own attitude. “Okay, don’t eat, my babies will.”

  “I will fucking bite you, Lorenzo Henry Medina.” I fold my arms. Mind you, my stomach is growling, and the setup of the dining room with all these gold chargers, tapered candles and magazine photogenic food, I still refuse to eat. “If they're supposed to be family, why does this dude need his crew standing against the wall, waiting for something to pop off?”

  “You'll get used to it.”

  “Rocky just eat for the babies girl,” Blu says on the other side of me. I look over at her plate and its half empty. Popeye’s and Phillip Juniors are too. Damn everybody is eating, then my stomach growls so loud. No. Maybe that wasn’t even my stomach, but what sounds like a hundred shotguns being pumped....

  Chapter 19

  RITA.

  Not sure where Mayté is but I wanted to apologize to her for killing her husband, my brother. That woulda been the least I could do, since me and Mayté went way back. Evidently, Santiago decided that his wife of 20-something years needed to be replaced by the two sluts who've hopped out of their dining chairs. I hold the knife to his neck, ready to split this muthafucka ear to ear. If Santi wasn't gonna pay penance for his sins when he said hello, then I’ma help him.

  Now the shotguns have been drawn and they're all pointed at me. Lorenzo, Blu and Popeye have their Glocks pointed at these pussy dudes tryna save my brother. The triangle is complete. For a moment, I feel bad that my grandbabies, Lorenzo Junior and Phillip are here. My youngest daughters don’t know what’s up either. But it’s too late for regrets. So I assure them all, “Try me and Santi dies too.”

  “And all these muthafuckas is dead, too,” Lorenzo barks. Lorenzo was never one to think. Santi’s goons have more guns. My son has bigger balls tho.

  “Yeah,” Blu seconds. Yup, a year younger, but they still think like twins. It’s a shame that my son and oldest daughter have the type of relationship I never got with my brother.

  “C'mon familia,” Santi laughs. He flashes fake big teeth, ultra-white ones too. Only, I can sense the hesitance in his voice. After years, sounding like a trick isn't second nature to him. The rabbit has learned to look, sound, and think… like a wolf.

  I hold the knife tighter, wishing Javier was here to see this; so I could brag and show him the blood. I imagine it dripping softly and slowly down Santi’s neck and pooling into a red ring at his white-collar shirt.

  “Moms stop,” Lorenzo says, reminding me that Santiago is my brother. My son won't put down his gun, but I know that he thinks Santi is the type of family you die for. That's true. You could die for Santiago. This muthafucka ain't gon’ die for you tho.

  “Rita,” Rocky speaks. “Mama Rita, please just let it go.”

  I look at her. She always wanted the best for people, being the most positive, having seen the least of this world, but she doesn't know it all.

  Just.

  Let.

  It.

  Go.

  “Nah, you remember the story I told you.” I look around to see if there are any loyalists left in Santiago's crew. All mi papi’s men have been replaced. Then my eyes stop on one man. He’s standing in the background, no gun in hand. But he looks right through me. This dude stares at me like he knows each and everything about me, even though I haven’t seen him in years. How could he still work for my brother?

  Ain't this the ultimate betrayal?

  Chapter 20

  ROCKWELL.

  “Let’s go back to Miami.” I pout as Lorenzo rubs warm baby oil over my belly. “Nigga, you know you hear me talking to you.” I swat him away, but he just grabs the bottle and continues like always. “A’ight, then booboo, these legs gon’ stay shut!”

  “Keep them shut, Rocky. I’ma hit it from the back with your legs crossed at the ankles so your pussy can squeeze my dick,” Lorenzo says all cocky-like.

  The words get me wet, but I roll my eyes. “Like I said, bae, we need to get back to Miami. The beach and...”

  “The beach is right outside.” He opens the double doors to the balcony. The scene is serene with the beach down below and in walking distance. A salty breeze rustles the gauzy, white drapes. Ain’t no denying that the beaches of Colombia are paradise. Even though it’s dark outside, turquoise water has been replaced with a dark bed of stars. It’s a beautiful, peaceful night.

  “I don't like this beach. Mama Rita wants to go back too. Toi wants to go to her boyfriend’s funeral. Lakitha’s supposed to be starting college this fall–”

  “You finna make requests for everybody? See that's your problem, too damn spoiled.” He tells me to hush so he can talk to his baby girls.

  “Negro, your sperm just as bad as you. These are twin boys.”

  “Nah, this is Lisa and Lila.”

  I chuckle. “Ray’Quan and Rameer.”

  “Lisa,” he says, kissing my belly oh so softly and, “Lila.” I die laughing. It’s the happiest I've ever been in my life as the twins in my belly start to move around.

  Lorenzo finally starts pulling out of his clothing and I playfully climb to the other side of this large canopy bed.

  “You seriously gon’ make me chase my pussy?” he asks in that sexy Colombian accent.

  “Ugh. These are my lady parts.” I point to him, and then continue, “Those are your hairy balls and dick.”

  “You ain't claiming this dick?”

  I laugh as he holds the pipe. Damn, the weight of it, thick and long. I’d be a fool not to claim it, but I joke, “Look like a 10-pound street burrito.”

  “A’ight ma,” he starts for the door.

  “Nigga!” I snap, “You’re naked. If you let anybody see my dick, I’ma kill you.” I toss a pillow at his head.

  “Thought we weren’t claiming?”

  “Come here burrito.”
I laugh.

  He comes toward me and I get an eyeful of every muscle on his ropy body. I kiss my face that he had tattooed right over his heart. After I have the twins, I'm supposed to be getting Lorenzo’s name over my heart too.

  “Lil’ conceited ass,” he says.

  “Shuddup, my lips are perfect, how could I not kiss them.” I pout and let my trail of kisses lead down his taut abs. Lawd, I could lick every part of his muscles and be satisfied as I sit at the edge of the bed with my legs wrapped around him.

  “You so big, Lorenzo. You so strong,” I joke, rubbing his biceps. I take his hand and guide Lorenzo to the bed as if he needed my help. “I love you, Renzo. You always keep me safe.”

  “Yeah buddy.” His lips softly tap my neck, and then bite. He suck on me as my hands rub on the thick nerves going through his even bigger dick.

  Mmmm.

  “What you gon’ do with that,” Lorenzo whispers into my ear.

  “Lay back, bae.I’m finna set it off.”

  Lorenzo’s mean mug gets all kindsa happy and ready. The pipe is on deck, shooting up to the muthafuckin’ stars as he lies on feathery pillows. I get on my hands and knees, smiling like I need help putting that thang in my mouth. It's warm and slick and super hard as I take in the head and lick around the sides with my tongue. No games. My throat opens wide so I can get the beast all the way to the back of my mouth.

  “Rocky... Damn... Girl...”

  I'm getting to work. Head bobbing up and down, I can feel him tense as I catch Lorenzo’s brink and my tonsils massage the head of his dick.

  “Rocky, you gon’ let me taste that sweet-sweet pussy?”

  I ignore this nigga. Ain't nothing like the taste of his seed in my mouth. I'm finna gobble it down like a day’s worth of vitamins. Besides, my super head should get us back to Miami. Usually Lorenzo will toss me over when he's ready for my goodies, but this nigga is super bent as I suck the love off his dick. My tongue gets to twirling around his heavy shaft. Yeah, we’re on our way home soon.

  “Rocky... Lemme eat the pussy, babyyyy.”

  “Shhh.” I blow on Lorenzo’s dick and he sighs.

  “Damn ma.”

  “Cum for me, Renzo. Lemme taste that,” I beg him, looking into his dazed eyes. Then I get back to work. It doesn’t take long for Lorenzo to release in my mouth. His dick gets a spurt and I gulp back every ounce of it. I look up and lick my lips.

  “Gimme a second,” Lorenzo’ eyes close. His long dick has reduced to about 8 inches on his muscular thigh.

  “Man, you look like a simple nigga laying on all them pillows.” I laugh when he pretends to snore.

  “For the moment, mommi. Don't tell nobody.” He gives that sexy smile of his.

  I jump off the bed, hoping I look cute in pregnant lingerie as I wrap a leg around the canopy and let my head fall back.

  “Damn, does Papi need to grab his mullah?”

  “Shuddup.” I pick up his belt from his jeans on the floor.

  “You tryna take advantage?” Lorenzo asks, still acting half dead but his manhood is now a good ten inches as I continue to twirl around.

  “Lemme see that magic stick.” I smack the belt in my other hand, making a loud whipping noise.

  Lorenzo laughs from deep in his belly. “That belt is for yo’ ass Rocky, not me.”

  “We shall see.” I roll my neck as he starts to get up. Dang, I laugh out loud as Lorenzo’s crazy ass gathers all his energy. Not two seconds ago, he was acting all lethargic. He comes and picks me up. “Ugh ugh... It's nasty.” Lorenzo knows I don't like it until the pipe is on swole.

  “Lemme get some sustenance. Get my strength up,” he says, pushing my legs wide and taking his lips to my chocha so he can have his taste too.

  Chapter 21

  BLU

  Night one was super crazy. I can’t believe my moms. C’mon man, why she gotta nut up on my tio like that? Santi ain’t done nothing to deserve that treatment. Only me and Lorenzo are old enough to remember him. Lakitha was a toddler the last time she saw Santiago, but he’d been good to us.

  Moms has been this way since I could remember. With any nigga who ain’t treat her how she wants, she will just take off on their ass. All but our no good ass daddy, Henry. He’s the only dude that ever needed to be bucked up on. But what the fuck she taking flight on her brother for?

  So anyway, that first night Popeye was sleep on the couch watching TV when I came out from my bath. Since I’ve been taking a shower and bath every day, my skin started drying out. I have to lather with baby oil and Vaseline, while making up for lost shower time. Well, as far as the dick goes, I’m not making up for that. On night two, Popeye took his stupid ass to the other guest bedroom and fell asleep there.

  We all usually go to the main house to eat, so I’m surprised when I wake up one morning and am by myself. Slipping on some house shoes, I step outside, across the tropical stone shaped pool with waterfall and into the main kitchen.

  Rocky is sitting at a stool and leaning against the marble counter.

  “Fatty, what’s wrong with you?” I ask.

  “I’m not fat,” Rockwell pouts. She looks like a Barbie doll in her designer summer dress, but her face is starting to chub up a little, no lie.

  “Preggo, I said what’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, I’m just thinking about Mama Rita and…”

  I wave her off, and go to the fridge to pull out some Simply Orange Juice. “Girl, you think too much. Next you’re going to say you’re worried about Lakitha’s education, my relationship–yes I know you’re the reason Popeye, Phillip and I are in that big ass echo-y house, and you’re worried about–” I pause to sip some juice straight from the bottle but Rockwell starts chattering.

  “I’m worried about Toi’s schooling here, and Junior’s when he starts kindergarten, and if there is a kindergarten here. Also, is there–” She stops talking to pout, and then continues on, “Hey, where are you going?”

  “Back to bed,” I shoot over my shoulder.

  “But, I’m bored,” Rockwell tries.

  Once at the door, I ask impatiently, “Why don’t you go shopping?”

  Rockwell’s eyes brighten as if that’s a good idea. Then she pouts again and says, “Lorenzo had some hoe buy all kindsa clothes for me. But you need clothes… Stop looking like that Blu… okay. Let’s go get facials. Let’s get our hair done to look cute for the guys.”

  “Now that sounds boring, Rocky.”

  “When’s the last time Popeye seen you all decked out? Okay, okay,” she huffs, “We don’t even have to leave. I have some good facial products, and we can go rummaging around my closet, there are too many clothes in there for me anyway.”

  “That’s because Lorenzo babies you.”

  Rockwell smiles at that. And the way that she looks at me, I know this bitch is finna play matchmaker with me and Popeye again, like she did with putting us in the pool house. I guess. I don’t know how to talk to Popeye. I want him so bad. I need to really work this out, and take this slowly, or this is going to end all bad.

  Chapter 22

  RITA.

  My nerves are on fire. It's been nineteen days since we've been in Colombia and I've just stayed at my son’s home the entire time. Stayed in my room or laid out at the pool with the girls and my grandsons. Popeye and Junior are the happiest of them all. Rocky is too, until she gets all concerned about me. She had said we could talk about my feelings and Santi.

  Rocky doesn't want to know. I could see that behind the love she has for me, she's hoping that Colombia will be a good place to raise the children–since she has to follow Lorenzo. There’s only one way with that nigga, his way.

  Her words take me on a ride. I grab the keys to one of Lorenzo's Silverados and my two Glocks. It doesn't matter that I'm fully loaded, I'm still going to church because my God is in my heart anyway.

  ~~~

  Soon as I make it out of the city and through the winding streets, my speed accelerates till
I see the tippy top of an ancient church in the hills of the lush forest.

  I get out and go up the cracked, uneven pathway and step inside. My two oldest have been given to God as babies in this very chapel when they were about 6 months or so. Lorenzo, Blu, and Lakitha went through the classes as kids, except Lakitha only got the beginning courses since we left before she could complete them. Toi was barely born. The place is empty and Jesus is calling me right to the front. I kneel before a 20-foot cross with His arms stretched out to me. My guns go onto the floor before me and I begin to pray in front of a million lit candles. Begging God from the bottom of my heart to forgive Santi.

  My heart is still so very hard, but if I just keep begging Jesus for it, maybe I can get there? A peace begins to take over me, and then I feel someone near. Someone watching. My fingers go straight to my guns, trigger ready and I stand and turn around.

  Miguel? Evidently, God doesn't want me to forgive Santi because God said he wouldn't put me through something I couldn't bear. Right now, I want to murder Miguel just as much as I want to murder Santiago.

  “Gimme a good reason I shouldn't blast your brains onto that pew and pray later?” I question the handsome man before me, with his tan skin and muscular build.

  Miguel holds up a hand for peace, but speaks quickly, “Margarita, will you–”

  “Fuck you!” See, can't be God because this dude has me cussing in church!

  Miguel shakes his head at me, “Can I make my case please?”

  “You can drop dead and tell it to God. Then after which go straight to hell!”

  “Rita, you didn't even give me a chance. Just ran off with that black man,” he says of Henry. “That made it worse. You having all those kids by him...” I can hear the jealousy, though Miguel tries to hide it. Yet he isn't stupid so he speaks quickly to give me reason not to shoot him. “A few weeks ago, when you arrived, I wasn't at Santiago’s home as his friend, Rita. Mayté is dying. I prayed for her.”