“What do I deserve Chuey?” Rockwell’s spoiled ass starts to pout, and I shake my head. Lil mama doesn’t know her worth.
“Lemme show you,” I say. I grab her tiny waist and push back to the side table and the lamp goes crashing to the floor. My hand creeps up under Rockwell’s blouse to that satiny soft skin. I grip her left breast and kiss her passionately…
Chapter 87
BLU
Popeye is always tryna make me feel some type of way about how I handle shit. Okay, maybe I shouldn't have given Rocky that gun. Maybe. But Lorenzo ain’t no lame. He ain't finna get put down by a broad no matter how much he loves her. I just need him scared straight if Rockwell goes that route. But I’m banking on my girl taking out this trick Lorenzo has been laid up with. Then she’ll forgive Lorenzo because they were meant to be. Yeah, so I did good giving Rocky that gun.
It’s almost four am. I couldn’t sleep so I had asked Popeye just to be sure. “Nah, Popeye, like I said, he prolly ain't gon’ be scared of Rocky with a gun at all but it's the thought that counts.”
“Okay ma,” Popeye turns back over.
“Okay nigga!” I snap, pushing his shoulder.
“Damn,” he shakes his head.
“What?”
“You need to be validated; you want me to agree with you on giving Rocky’s emotional ass a gun?” Popeye props up his pillow. “Not to mention, you need the last word huh?”
“No.”
“Don't lie,” he gives a half smile.
I ask, “Why are you getting up like you can’t sleep? And nah–”
“Because, you won’t go to sleep, Blu. Now I’m wide awake.”
“Boy please. As I just said, hell nah, I'm not that simple to need the last word.”
Silence.
Now I'm feeling like this shit was a set up. “Speak Popeye!” I throw a pillow at him. This shit got me angry and smiling and annoyed, because he won’t talk. So I speak, “Since when did I need the last word?” Still he says nothing. So I can imagine many times I popped off at the mouth, but I'm trying to think back to when Popeye leans back against the pillow with his hands behind his head, all triumphantly. Dang, I can't think of once. “Oh well, boy!”
“Okay Blu,” he chuckles again.
With my fingertips, I pretend to zip my mouth closed. Then I pull the sheets over my head, and crawl down, undo the strings to Popeye’s pajama’s and get to work. My tongue slides around the head of his thick smooth dick, then up and down his shaft. When Popeye starts talking about my magic, my head pops up from under the covers, “Ha, you had the last word!”
Popeye’s half glazed eyes turn to me, “Ma, we ain’t even arguing anymore. Get back to work.”
“Whateva,” I stick out my tongue with a frown, and then get back at it. Soon I feel the spurting coming from within my man’s balls as he begins to cum in my mouth. Not a second later, somebody's bangs on the door.
After he’s feeling just right, my nigga doesn’t say shit. And since he’s always talking about my mouth, I just climb back up and cross my arms. Banging at the door won't stop. If I close my eyes we back in Hoover Projects and that's the muthafuckin’ police–when the pussy ass po-po wasn’t afraid to come through. We’re at a silent standoff with whoever got the nerve to beat on the damn door.
“You stubborn as fuck,” Popeye finally gets up. Readjusts his pants, he unlocks the knob, saying, “Fuck this damn guestroom we really shoulda went back across to the pool house.”
“I know,” I chuckle.
“Aye Rocky up in here?” Lorenzo asks, peeking inside.
“What the fuck, man? You and your girl think we running the muthafuckin’ Underground Railroad.” I laugh. Oops...I wasn’t supposed to be speaking, but Lorenzo looking some type of way, searching for Rockwell.
“Nah man,” Popeye says.
“Nigga, you sure?”
Me being me, I just smile and mention, “You look a lil’ worried.”
“Then where the fuck is Rocky at in the middle of the muthafuckin’ night.”
“Technically big bro, it’s damn near morning. Rockwell… uhhh went for her morning run really early,” I continue to chuckle.
“So you let her scary ass go in the middle of the night,” he bucks up on me.
“Here we go,” Popeye sighs, looking up at the ceiling.
“Don't get it twisted. And don’t make me get up out this bed, homie. Gone are the days of big brah ass whooping, a’ight? Rocky needs to clear her mind and figure out what she's gon’ do witchu!” My lips purse
“The fuck you mean with me?”
“Oh, I recall your favorite line is threatening Rockwell to leave,” I chuckle. Damn, I can’t stop digging in on this muthafucka. Talking head is fun, so what? “You figure it out lame-ass cheating-ass no good ass nigga!” I shout.
Popeye puts his hands up, and steps out into the hallway with him, then says, “Nah my nig’. You know, yo’ sis just wanna have the last word.” Popeye looks back at me on key and I nod my head like that’s what’s up, even if that’s a blow to the convo we had earlier.
“You got a belt?” Lorenzo asks him. “Use it.”
Soon as the door closes, I say, “I didn't have the last word. Lorenzo did. Ha! Because you know my next line woulda blew his conceited, selfish ass away.”
“Is that so?” Popeye licks his lips.
“Yup.”
“So you agree? Lorenzo told me to check yo’ ass.” Popeye reaches over for his jeans off the floor to pull off his belt. “Now we both know you got that sip-rite, ma. A hard head, makes a soft ass, too.”
It’s been a while since I’ve been spanked–and fucked–so I smile and get on my knees, ready for the love of my life.
Chapter 88
RITA
Seems I’ve been haunted by 1989, ever since I hopped on a plane to ride home from Colombia almost a year ago. The notion that Santiago could have died years back keeps playing through my mind. Then us coming back from Los Angeles to my father not treating me like his own child anymore. So that day after León disgraced me in front of our people and I went off on Miguel for not taking up for me. With the busted lip that my father gave me and my hair still in disarray from Papi pulling on it, I had made my way to the tiny church at the top of the hill.
I prayed to God to take me away from here. So far away. I've done all that my father could ask for. Kept my kid brother safe. I was okay sharing the throne. Really Santi could sit on the king’s chair as I actually got shit done. But the words my father said to me. How he slapped me and treated me so badly…
I crumpled to my feet before the cross. It was past midnight and the hundreds of candles highlighted Jesus’ sad face, as I promised never to see my papi again. My poor Madre, that meant I wouldn’t see her either. “I'll never go back. Jesus, I can’t do it.” I sobbed, face to the ground, considering all the things I had done for Papi. I had fallen for Javier, just to screw the Cuban. I had saved Santi’s life so many times–even before LA.
“Jesus,” I whispered–half praying, “Your word speaks of forgiveness. Wonder if they forgive me if I join Javier’s team, huh?” I laughed through the tears at how much of a loyalist I am. It’s all or nothing with me. So now I was just on my own. So I laughed some more at how alone I was in this world.
“You could sit here laughing as your father suffered?”
I peered through the darkness. Only the prayer candles are aglow on the alter behind me, such a dark unforsaken night. Santi sat at the back pew in an all-black suit, appearing to be in mourning.
“Look at you, so busy spinning stories. Lying and scheming. I don't want anything from you little brother. I won’t even ask that you pay penance for your sins.”
“Slit my throat?” Santiago said, half his mouth curving upward into a smile. “Honestly, all the elders and their old ways, they would all be harping ‘slit your throat, Santi’ if they knew. But you, my own muthafuckin’ sister,” Santiago spat. He pounded his chest adding, �
�you want me to slit my fucking throat?”
I started past him but he grabs my arm, and says, “Your father died tonight.”
I glared straight through Santi. Don’t believe it. “That's a lie.”
“After punishing you like the whore and disappointment of a child you are, León had a heartache as you walked away!”
“No.” I couldn't believe it. A mixture of sadness and anger takes over me. My last words from León, my own father. He had rescinded his love to me. Then he died? While I walked away with my head down in embarrassment, mi Padre died? A heart-wrenching sob escapes my lips.
I didn’t notice till Santiago pushed me to the floor and kicked me in the gut. “Everything is your fault,” he said bending down. “Rita that everyone loves.”
The pain hurts so bad that I can hardly plead, “Santi, stop–”
“The sister that does nothing wrong. My sister that has it all?”
“Has what?” I spat blood at his shoes. The searing ache within my abdomen disappeared as I shout, “You've gotten Papi. He loved you until death and cursed me. Stupido!”
“Look at you, so beautiful...” he said softly.
“Santi, shut up!” Even though my body hurt, a creepy feeling rushed over me as Santiago unbuckled his pants and falls to his knees. “Santi. We're in God's house–”
I tried to kick out at him. But the devil was in my brother’s eyes. He had a supernatural strength too…
… When the morning sickness overtakes me, I’m long gone from home. Had never looked back since that night. Working as a maid. I counted back the days. Would have swallowed my pride. Maybe Miguel or Javier is the father. The numbers didn’t add up. Neither man was the father. It was here that I met the sweetest man in the world.
For my children’s entire life, Henry has been presented as a villain. But you could never know it all. You could judge him for not caring for his children in the full sense of a father based on how he’s been portrayed.
Henry tried, he really tried to love Lorenzo. I would give him beautiful daughter after daughter, as he went back and forth from working seasons at the resort in Colombia to going home. At the beginning he didn’t cheat. He really did go home to care for his mom, he got odd jobs as a musician in Hoover, and then during season he came back to the resort again. Cared for his pretty Blu. Loved his chubby little Lala, Lakitha. But by the time I got pregnant with Antoinetta, Henry couldn’t get over seeing Lorenzo growing up. Henry could never treat the fact that I had given my brother his first-born son. For years the strong love Henry and I had begun to diminish. I realized that after 4 daughters, Henry would not love my son the same. I finally gave up. Now fuck that, see the rights to Mendoza De Dios shoulda reverted back to where they belonged. The Medinas.
Chapter 89
LORENZO
At first my heart is consumed by the worst. If something happened to Rocky, mannnn, fuck what I did for Toi. I'ma find them and murk these muthafuckas in ways that don’t even make it into night terrors. The entire house–besides Moms– is up as the sun rises. Two hours later I'm thinking the worst.
If she's with a nigga they’re both dead.
“Blu, you said she went for a walk. One of the sports cars is gone?” I realize.
“Okay then she went for a ride,” Blu snaps. Her and Popeye exchange glances.
“Something y’all muthafuckas need to tell me?”
“Can’t we all just get along?” Lakitha shakes her head. I tune out my chubby sister while she again comments about having found a highly recommended MFT in the area.
“She's a grown ass woman, that’s all I’ma say,” Blu grins.
My goons a discretely searching the city. I’ve been calling them hour on hour. Hundreds of them looking for my muthafuckin’ baby mama. And all I can hope is that lil’ mama is somewhere safe. Somewhere just pissed off at me…
It’s after six am when a champagne colored Jaguar pulls up the hill. When Rocky gets out, without words she follows me into the house and up the stairs.
“Where you going?” I bark when she doesn't come into the bedroom.
“To check on my children, that’s what I do.”
I ain’t finna even let her go there with that one, so I just snap, “They’re sleep.”
She goes anyway. I step into the master bedroom, and grab my glass from the dresser and a bottle of vodka off the fireplace mantel. Pour it up to the brim and toss it back. Sitting the glass down, I grab the bottle and take a seat when she finally enters.
Rockwell starts to kick off her shoes.
“Where the fuck you been?”
“Why?”
I point my drink at her. “Shit ain't gon’ be good for you, ma. Get to speaking.”
“No nigga. Ain't like you tell me where you disappear to. For days I don't know.” Rockwell moves back as I get up, then instead of looking scared as fuck as usual, she cocks her head, “So step the fuck off.”
My hand goes into her curls at the nape of her neck, I tug down. It turns her face upwards toward me.
“Lorenzo, don’t try to buck up on me. You was with other bitches. Maybe I was with another nigga. Fuck that. A real man that wants to spend all his time with me.”
My fingers tighten more around her hair. And she can't even roll her neck as she pops off at the mouth. “Yeah, little boy. Renzo, while you busting your nut with irrelevant ass, bitches I got a nigga that says he loves me. That he only wants to be with only me!”
“What's his name?”
.... silence.
I want this bitch to keep at it. Rockwell's digging her fucking grave. No matter if I loved her from day one.
“Rocky, I own you!” I pull out my knife. This shit is going to have me off, if I have to kill my girl.
“What you finna do then?” she asks through tears, her body is so tense, so shaky, it’s vibrating against me as I hold her up.
Got me feeling some type of way, but I shout, “I'ma body you and ya nigga!”
“Good! Because you don't love me anyway. Been down for you before I was even fucking you. Nigga, I ain’t punch drunk off your fucking dick. Bitch, I always loved you! Tried to be for you only. You don't even love me!”
I put the knife to her throat. My nostrils flared. Damn, I’m finna murk my baby's mama? Calmer than I feel inside, I ask, “What’s this dude’s name?”
“Nobody.”
“You a muthafuckin’ lie.” The blade starts to dig into her skin, just a little. My heart is tight, how the fuck Rocky going to bring us to this moment?
“Nobody Lorenzo! I just want you to hurt like I hurt.”
“You lying…?” I slowly put the knife down.
“Nobody.” Her eyes finally meet mine. “So if I say I'm doing like you fucking other people just because–”
“Cut that shit.” Whew, I can finally breathe. “Where you been?”
“Driving.”
I snatch her up to eye level. “Rockwell Aubrey Townsend,” I say, slow so this chick understands. “Girl, I love you too fucking much. I will murk you, if you with another nigga, got that.”
“I swear, Lorenzo.”
“Rocky, you a fucking lie!” Something ain’t right.
Those little champagne colored eyes gets to darting around. Then she quickliy says, “Okay, okay, I went to see that chick you fucking.”
Soon as Rocky starts telling me about Janyca, I pull her ass back down the stairs. If what lil’ mama saying is true, I got bigger problems than making up with my lady.
“Where y'all going?” Lakitha asks. “Do you want the MFTs (Marriage and Family Therapist) number–”
“To confirm some shit,” I bark as I snatch Rockwell outside.
“Stop, you're hurting her!” Lakitha follows. “Mom, Blu, Popeye,” she even starts shouting for one of my goons to get active, as I toss Rockwell in my truck and mash out.
My truck is racing down the hill and around the cliff to climb the other side. Damn I look over at Rockwell with her arms folded. S
he ain't a muthafuckin’ murderer! But no matter how I was fronting with the knife to Rocky’s throat, I love her too much to kill her.
Fuck!
We’re stepping into Janyca’s crib. And I'm hoping the bitch ain't dead. Nah, I don’t give a fuck about her. We was cool, but Janyca’s pops is going to trip. And the bitch just got a fucking abortion for me a few months back.
Rockwell stands just inside the living room. “I didn't mean to kill her.” Rockwell cried. “That bitch said y'all was going to be together. And you love her!”
“Why you listen to a simple ass trick!” I shout over my shoulder. When I see Janyca’ body I see where she was going. So this hoe tried to pull one over on Rocky. She had to have been going for my girl’s ring. Janyca had connects, and I didn’t want my best friend, the love of my life wearing no fucking ring that anybody else would. The ring had been designed for a chick with a fat ass and a bad mouth. Rockwell. I had been asking Janyca when it would get here. Shoulda known this hoe had a $3 mil diamond ring under my nose the entire time. I snatch it up then take one last look at Janyca’s dead body.
Chapter 90
ROCKWELL.
I can't breathe. The tip of that knife stung. I knew Lorenzo was disappointed in me for saying that bullshit about cheating. Man, but I really did just want to hurt him the way he had hurt me. And if the muthafucka took me out? Then, well in that moment, I wouldn’t have any more tears, any more worries about my nigga not loving me… See how love goes? How it makes a chick lose her mind? I didn’t even consider my children when I lied about cheating. Yeah, I know kissing Chuey was bad enough but…
Damn, I look around for any signs of Chuey. He’d been kissing a trail down my breast and falling to his knees before me. I had stopped him with a silent sob. Chuey had looked up at me. I knew he couldn’t fuck me because he knew I couldn’t fuck over Lorenzo. Instead of going all the way, Chuey just held me close for a while. At first, I tried to get him to understand that Lorenzo and I have been good since we were kids. Chuey and I spent almost two hours talking–like there wasn’t no fucking dead body in the kitchen.
Loving a Colombian Cartel Thug 2 (Loving a Columbian Cartel Thug) Page 23