“So you wanna know how many muthafuckas got put down then? You hard?”
“Lorenzo, I support anything you do.” I want to cry, remembering what he said before throwing down my clothing to those bitches. He didn’t think I would ride for him? Lorenzo was mad at me about Raphael I know. And I haven’t proven to him, how much he is worth to me. When Lorenzo is always proving that to me. Keeping me safe.
He tell me how he got to Tamms and what they did. Every gruesome detail, as if this is a test. Then he asks, “Bae, why you stop rubbing my back?”
I breathe deeply. “Because I'm not afraid of Tamms anymore.” Damn, I shock even me. I expected the scary words of how he killed Tamms, to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. After that plane ride and kinda helping Rita, and this entire new trip, I’m not scared. Lorenzo reaches around and grabs me, planting me in his lap.
“Lorenzo, you killed her for me?” I ask. Why does this feel good?
“Yeah,” he says, hand reaching under my shirt as he tells me. “Busted the bitch knee caps, brought her down to her knees and chopped her head off, just like she did to your moms, Rocky.”
“Now she can’t come after me,” I sigh as a ripple runs up and down my spine. That ain't fear. It feels so good, him reaching beneath my panties. As his thumb massages my clit while I straddle him.
“Nah, how the fuck I look letting some bitch come after what’s mine,” Lorenzo says, his thumb plunging into my pussy for that sweetness. It’s nice and wet when he goes back to toying with my clit.
Wrapping my arms around Lorenzo, I continue to rub his neck and kiss his chin, I murmur, “Damn bae, you handled that.”
My tongue weaves a trail down his neck, and I gyrate in his lap as he continues to finger bang me.
“You like that,” he asks as two fingers plunge into my gush.
“Yeah buddy, mama loves that. Keep telling me how you murked that trick.”
He pulls his fingers out and licks them. Then goes back to fucking me with his fingers. Now his thumb is in my ass too. As he tells me of my mother-in-law’s last breath.
“Lemme put my dick in that little ass, mommi.”
“Mmmmn.” I sigh. “We never did that.”
“You scared?” he continues to test me.
“Mmmm…” The way his fingers work my pussy and ass... But his dick is sooo much bigger. “Lorenzo...” My back arches so his thumb can really get into my booty. Then I can’t breathe as an orgasm waves over my body. As a hard moan rolls over me, Lorenzo tongues me down.
“Lemme in mommi,” Lorenzo says still thumbing my ass.
“Bae, like I said,” I bite my lip as another orgasm takes over. “Lorenzo, I'm yours. What you want you got.”
“A’ight ma.” He flips me over. My ass tips in the air to some familiar déjà vu! Then his tongue dips into my kitty and flicks back up to my ass. With his tongue back into my chocha, Lorenzo grips my ass with both hands and sticks both his thumbs inside of me. “Damn ma. You finna be tight as fuck,” he says in this heavy voice I know the nigga is imagining it.
Mmmmm.
Then the tongue-finger magic is gone. Lorenzo gets up and drops his boxers. The tip of his dick slides into my pussy. The pipe fills me up and I sigh, eyes closing. Damn, I love this dick. Lorenzo’s fingers grip onto my hips tighter, “Mommi, this pussy is so damn tight, so wet just for me. You finna let me fuck that ass?”
“Renz…” I say, legs starting to shake as my nigga has fireworks exploding in my pussy yet again. Orgasm number two.
“Lil mama, I’m bout to fuck that ass,” he tells me in this sexy ass Colombiano tone that is second to none.
“Fuck meeeeee…” I tell him.
Lorenzo rubs my ass cheek and slips out. The dope dick stops at my ass, dripping wet. That damn head don't seem like it will fit but I want it.
It hurts as he works his way in. “You a’ight Mommi?” Lorenzo asks, stroking my lower back with one hand. As he slowly strokes my asshole with his dick. Finally as he gets a nice rhythm going it feels good again. Damn I want it harder and rougher.
“Nah, ma you ain't ready yet,” Lorenzo says, keeping a steady pace. He kisses my lower back, reaches around and flicks my clits with his finger. It takes the pain away, it motivated me as many more inches of his dick slide in and out of my asshole. Lorenzo starts to nut up. One of those long ones where his seed seems never ending, and if I'm sucking his dick it's always the tastiest.
Chapter 58
RITA
Mayté sent for me for the third time this week. We've begun to have these chats about the old time, ones that put you in a good mood. Least she has the brains not to be up on that no good husband of hers. I go out of pity. At least I could stay away from Santi. Mayté loved him still even after the truth!
We laugh and chat. We have those “remember that time…” convo starts that make us talk for hours and make our sides hurt from laughing so much more.
“Damn,” I shake my head.
“Now you finally bring your ass home. And I'm dying.” She smiles, with a shake of her head. “Fuck you, Margarita.”
“Oh I love you too, my bonita.”
She waves me off with a smirk. “There's nothing pretty about me. And when I was actually worth a damn, and men couldn't stop staring or stepping to me, Santi ended that. He made me think I was ugly. He made me feel as if I was blessed by the Holy Trinity that he even decided to marry me.” She stops and bites her lip. “Oh, I'm...”
“Not supposed to bring up Santiago? Mayté, you've been doing a good job,” I shrug. Really, I’m the reason that she brought him up. If I hadn’t just complimented her, like I grew up doing–just to get her out of a depression–Mayté wouldn’t have even brought him up. Now she looks worried about me leaving. “Hey, this is what chicks do. Get together and talk shit about good for nothing men.”
She gives a wry smile.
“Funny, how it takes me seeing my life flashing before me and being unable to move before I learn. So when are you going to murder the bitch?”
“Mayté, if Santi continues to stay in his lane, I won't have to. Contrary to the old me, before leaving Colombia, these days, I really do try not to take vengeance. But if he lingers at any of my kids too long. Especially now since he thinks he has Lorenzo on his side.”
“Oh please,” she sighs. “Lorenzo is smart. Lorenzo's only downfall is that beautiful girl of his. I’m waiting to be introduced to the beautiful, infamous Rockwell. Yeah, he's like old style. Like León and your mama.”
My body pricks as she mentions my father. True, León would never have cheated on mi mama. That was the only of the Ten Commandments that I know Papi didn't commit.
“Lorenzo's going to be a better leader than Santi. León…. Or any of the other leaders before him,” Mayté assures.
“A better leader?” I look at my oldest friend like she’s lost her mind crazy. How could she say that Lorenzo would be a leader? Yes, he’s the first-born. Hell, I was first born but pushed to the side so Santi could take over. Doesn't that mean Chuey should be...?
“Oh, Margarita, are you thinking of Chuey?” Mayté laughs softly. “Not my first son. But yours Rita. Let the bricks fall as they should have from the get go.”
Her words have me feeling heavy. Mayté must be doped up on strong cancer meds but we had a coherent conversation before the discussion changed. So I just change the subject, knowing that Santi would never allow Lorenzo to be his successor. Would he …?
~~~
On my way out of Mayté’s home, I hear a car coming up the hill and hurry toward the mountain slope. Santi has other homes. The only thing he did right was leave Mayté at his main home. Even if he tried to brag about this being his home when inviting us to dinner that first night, I’m glad Mayté has it. So if it's him making a visit I don't want to see him.
I’m worried about my friend going senile. Mayté sounded like she’s in her right mind, but to mention Lorenzo as a leader. Santiago ain’t having tha
t and that’s stuck in my mind as I start for the stairs to the beach.
“Rita?”
I turn around to see Miguel. It ain't easy walking down these steep stairs, but I wave him off. The door of his truck slams and he's catching up to me in seconds. If this ain’t a moment out of the past like the day my daddy died after slapping me around, then I don’t know what. So I shrug, “What you want?”
“Am I not allowed to miss you?” he asks, looking all good in a flannel and jeans.
“I'm not the girl that left here over 15 years ago. And I recall saying I didn’t want to see you ever again in this very spot,” I state with more self-assurance than imaginable. This is one of the very reasons that I usually just keep to Lorenzo’s mansion. Just so I don’t have to see Miguel.
“I know.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“I'm meaner and older,” I snap.
He nods. “Like wine. Bold. Aged to perfection–”
“Don't. We aren't cool either,” I reply, hoping that I’m stronger than Rockwell. But I guess it’s been more time since me and Miguel were together than the length of times Lorenzo rushed in and out of her life. Halfway down the stairs, I can’t believe this fool is still following me so I add, “I don’t go back either.”
“Me either, Margarita. I only look forward and must say, I'm enjoying the site.”
Chapter 59
SANTIAGO.
Even as I think about how my wife has betrayed me, I chuckle. The thought of going to that bitch’s room and putting a pillow over her face just to see her fragile arms and legs thrashing around would be a dream. Nah, I won't. I'm a good husband. It's been years since we've fucked and even longer since I've wanted to. Love her out of obligation. She sits and tells Margarita that I should get bodied? My own fucking sister, my blood!
I sit in the backseat of my Rolls Royce and listen to the recording in my wife's bedroom. Keep rewinding it back, looking at her frail body, looking at her lips that used to be so luscious. Mayté used to have one of the best head games ever. I got her in her innocence and taught her how to please before she could even think of what to do. But those crusty ass lips of hers are moving, and she’s saying the words. Begging my sister, my very own flesh and blood to put me down. I continue to rewind and listen to Mayté’s words until the car lurches to a stop over bumpy potholes.
“Bring me Nino,” I order the closest kid tryna beg on the street corner. After I toss a few coins his way, the boy smiles and shows decaying teeth. Picks up the coins and is gone.
I laugh. “Quick lil’ fucker, eh?”
The driver nods.
Nino comes out the building, rubbing his face. Half his hair is in neat cornrows and the other half is a thick, silky mess down his back as if he fell asleep while getting his hair done. This lazy muthafucka looks like a teenager, like my Toi, but word on the street is he’s much older.
His breath stinks as he puffs his blunt saying, “Sup?”
“Okay, baby face. What the fuck you mean sup? Idiota. Where is my video?”
He laughs and leans into the window. “You know me. Run them pockets, Santi and I’ma be ten toes down.”
Instead of checking this stupid muthafucka for disrespecting, I know Nino doesn’t give a fuck about living so there’s two choices. I can torture this piece of shit before he even cares. Nino has no heart. Besides, I need that tape. I had lucked out one day, watching Rocky at the pool on my iPad that streams the entire mansion. Then I had Nino steal the video from Chuey’s room. So I grab my money clip from my suit pocket and pull out a few bills.
“Nah, this ain't enough for me to wake up in the morning and sell yo’ shit man,” Nino chuckles, “Nigga when I say run ya pockets, I mean full blown marathon.”
I grab the collar of Nino’s shirt so he has to lean further into the window. In Spanish I ask, “So you sure that wasn’t enough to save your life?”
Nino laughs. The evil in his eyes matches mines. This dude is definitely crazy as me as my gun goes to his skull. A few of my crew on the streets and even my driver pulls out their burners. When my gun is ready, theirs are to. But I give them a look to let them know I’m just fucking with this dude.
“Santi, if it makes your dick hard, pull the fucking trigger. I’ve been dead for almost fifteen years, brah.” He looks me in the eyes and I feel like maybe I’m the reason he’s dead. Nino has to be at least thirty years old. I try to gage his features, maybe I’m his father? Been fucking since I was nine, so I could be… For a second, I wonder if he has a bone to pick with me. If Nino’s lazy ass watched the video, he could go to Lorenzo…
For a second, I’m paranoid and on pause. As I start to get out of the car, this muthafucka continues to dig his grave.
“Santi, my man, I’ve been enjoying that cute little Toi of yours. She's my bitch.” Nino puffs on his blunt even as my Desert Eagle aims at his head. “Maybe I could get you to tell my bitch to ditch school soon. I haven’t seen her since I came over that one time.”
I click the hammer.
“Damn, you ain't really down for tu familia?” Nino chuckles. This fool didn’t even flinch when I played Russian roulette. He actually pushes his temple closer to the barrel of my gat. He had expected to be put the fuck down for talking about my niece, so I know he is testing me. “Santi, there's a story on the streets that you fucked over tu hermana. So by now I know you really did do Margarita Medina Mendoza dirty. It’s true.”
“Yes, it is.” I nod.
“So it doesn't even matter to you that I screwed your little niece raw? Now I did it with no glove. And you know I'm dirty.” He scratches at his balls. “But I mean raw like pounding. They call me gorilla dick.”
“I see it may help you. A slight trick of the mind, makes the women think you’re packing, but your shit is muy pequeño, eh?”
An old lady walking down the street quickly moves to the other side. Nino laughs at that, but his mouth tenses as if I’m closer to home than he expected about his shrimp dick.
“So I know you had a good night then you got my latest video from Lorenzo’s house. I'm sure you had a good time taking other things that don't belong to you on your way out?”
“Yup.”
“Chinaware and forks and shit?” I glare at the pathetic, poor fool.
“You laugh but I hocked that shit off for more than you just gave me.”
I pat his cheek rather harshly. “Good, you piece of shit. Now give me those videos.”
Nino rolls his eyes, digs in the pocket of his jacket as I get back into the car. I’m content and adjusted to the butter leather seat as Nino pulls out a few DVDs.
“Damn, Santi, I just woke up,” he yawns. “So guess I won’t even get a chance to watch these too.”
The window rolls up and he quickly moves away before the car gets to rolling. On my laptop I toggle away from the app that gives me a full view of what my wife is doing. I go through the few tapes I told Nino to steal. So I flip through the latest DVD and see its Lorenzo and Rocky’s bedroom. See, a muthafucka like me doesn't get to where I am without eyes on the streets. Realizing this isn’t the one, and that Lorenzo hasn’t gotten much action lately, I take that back out and put in another one of the DVDs that Nino just stole. Yes! It’s the one with the pool scene. And even better, I scroll to another scene of Chuey climbing up the wall along the poolside late one night. Now, it doesn’t take a genius to say where he was going.
Rita likes to think that my come up was easy. Me stepping on her back. Our papi León wanted the best for the family business. He wasn’t stupid. Margarita was the best choice. My words had convinced him. Loyalty still split since I wasn't first born... Yes, he did want his beautiful Margarita to take over. León was rooting for his daughter to come back from Los Angeles and make him proud. Shit, he thought it would be revolutionary having a female leader of the Mendoza De Dios Cartel. LA had been a test. She past it, but I kinda told him Margarita fucked up in Los Angeles before she even had a chance to speak.
> And though I had some cushion to work with, being my father’s child, I still have to keep my eyes everywhere and I only trust my eyes.
My lips curve into a smile. Now I know why Chuey was so compliant. He went to college, got the degree that I sought. He has made friends with Hernandez and Emerald in the FBI. Before my son considered me “dead to him,” Chuey introduced me to the two agents who will soon play their role.
They’ve been good assets in the past. That stupid Mexican, Hernandez, and hotheaded Irishman, Emerald, love the lifestyle that they lead. Recently they need another big hit. My weak, punk ass son was such a sickly child. Chuey was always so smart, but he could never take the throne after me. For the first time in his life, Chuey had made himself useful. Now maybe I’ll live forever, because I sure ain’t handing the keys to Lorenzo. My dear wife thinks Lorenzo can be the head of Mendoza De Dios Cartel? Well, I guess Lorenzo will be, for the time it takes FBI Agents, Emerald and Hernandez to lock his ass down.
Chapter 60
OLIVIA.
The money that Lorenzo gave me at the hospital is all gone. Lorenzo Junior’s special formula is just about gone too. So I'm feeling happy when a Porsche pulls up the dirt road driveway.
My heart sinks as Santiago gets out. Should’ve known it wasn’t Lorenzo. So I quickly look in the smudged bathroom mirror of my tiny home. Fix my hair and glare at my son. Ever since I've had his skinny little ass, I've been looking less than 100. It’s expensive keeping him healthy and me pretty.
I cup my hand and smell my breath. It's okay. Santi isn't much of a kisser. He just really likes his dick sucked mostly. So I'm changing my pajama shirt for a simple red dress when the doorbell rings.
I walk toward the door as I slip my arms in the dress almost tripping over dirty diapers and empty beer cans. Pushing a few empty candy bar wrappers with my feet, I quickly open the door.
“Hi,” I lean against the door hip jutted nice and sexy like. “Didn't expect you.”
In a cream suit, Santiago takes off his designer sunglasses and steps inside, “Don't you ever clean up this dump?”
Loving a Colombian Cartel Thug 2 (Loving a Columbian Cartel Thug) Page 15