Love's Grip

by Nika Michelle

  “Nigga, what the fuck you doin’?” Mike spat as I whipped the car around, making an illegal U-turn.

  “Goin’ back to kill all them niggas,” I said. I pressed the gas and sped back in the direction of the cemetery. I didn’t know if this was the same Rae who had tried to kill Daisha, but if so, it was the perfect opportunity for me to kill him. It had been dark that night, but I had got a good look at his punk ass. If I saw him again, I’d know exactly who he was. Being that I’d run up on him, he probably had no idea what I looked like. Even if he did, he would not be expecting me to come for him.

  Dank tried to talk some sense into me next. “Look, man. If you go back, we might all get killed.”

  “Y’all all scared and shit for nothing. Even that nigga … What the fuck was his name, any fuckin’ way?”

  “G,” Mike said.

  “Even that nigga G said those niggas were flakes, so they ain’t shit to be scared of.”

  Shaking his head, Dank said, “Ain’t nobody scared. The shit’s done. You ain’t gotta go back for the rest of them, man. At this point they don’t even know who did that shit, but I’m sure they’ve found his body by now.”

  “It ain’t even been a good fifteen minutes. There’s a chance they haven’t found him yet,” I said.

  Mike was quiet at that point, and I wondered why.

  “What you gotta say, Mike? Those niggas can identify us, so they gotta die too.”

  “Identify us?” Mike’s voice told me he was skeptical about this, and the look in his eyes reaffirmed this. “Them niggas believe in street justice, like us.”

  I laughed sarcastically at that statement. “And that’s why we gotta kill them. Why didn’t y’all niggas think of that shit? You should’ve been killin’ them niggas while I was poppin’ G. Once they find that nigga’s body, they won’t stop till they find out who did it. They know what I look like and what kinda car I drive.”

  “If we go back to do that shit, it’s gon’ cut into the time we need to do the lick,” Dank reminded me. “You can always get a paint job, and we’ll take care of that shit.”

  “I don’t give a fuck ’bout cuttin’ into the time to do the lick, and I don’t wanna get a fuckin’ paint job,” I snapped, pulling into the same parking space at the cemetery. “Let’s handle them niggas like we should’ve done.”

  The relief on Dank’s and Mike’s faces was evident once I saw that the BMW was gone.

  “Shit!” Those niggas must’ve got tired of waiting, gone to look for G, found his body, and got the fuck up out of there fast as hell.

  Did I really want to do a lick with Dank and Mike? I thought my cousins were all hard and shit, but they were looking more and more lame by the minute.

  Chapter 7

  Daisha

  Those damn pills had knocked me out. Honestly, I didn’t even know what the hell Kevia had given me. It was already 9:30 p.m., so that meant I’d been out for over six hours. What the hell did I take? I took a look at the pills, and they were long white bars. They were probably some Xanax or something. If they were pain pills, why was I still in pain?

  The sound of somebody banging on the door had been what woke me up. If it hadn’t been for that, I’d still be out like a light. Damn. But who the fuck was at my door? Nobody knew where I was. Had Kevia followed me here? If not, had Rae found me? Damn it. I knew he wouldn’t give up.

  I tiptoed to the door and pushed the flip bar lock against it before looking through the peephole. Pistol was standing there. How the fuck had he found me? Should I even open the door? I wondered. I didn’t want to, but I did.

  “Wow. I found you.” He looked relieved. “This is some crazy shit. For real.”

  Paranoid, I looked behind him. “Come in.” He walked inside my room, and I closed the door behind him. “How’d you find me?”

  “I wasn’t even lookin’, but I spotted your car when … Shit. I tried every door on this side, until you answered.”

  What? I thought. There were all types of fucked-up-ass people here. The motel was known for drug sales, prostitution, and all kinds of criminal activity. That was very brave of him.

  “So, you wasn’t tryin’a find me? This was just a coincidence?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I wanted to find you, but I didn’t know where to look. I just happened to be over here to … Anyway, I saw your car. You need to grab yo’ shit and get out of here, Ma. This place is even more dangerous than that nigga you fuckin’ wit’.”

  “Thank you for your help the other night, Pistol, but I’m good—”

  He grabbed my arm. “No you ain’t. I just did a lick on the first floor. This nigga be keepin’ mad kilos and cash out here and shit. He, his girl, and another mu’fucka are dead right now, ’cause I don’t give a fuck when it comes to money, like every other nigga out here. This place ain’t safe for a woman. Not even if she’s wit’ her man. You feel me?”

  I yanked my arm away. “So you robbed and killed three people in this motel and you still here? Are you fuckin’ crazy?”

  “Nah, but when I saw your car, I knew I couldn’t leave you here. I killed them niggas, but my cousin shot the bitch.”

  I nervously tapped my foot against the floor. For some reason, I wasn’t afraid of him or threatened by him. But damn. Why would I leave with somebody whom the police or more goons may be coming after? Did he think I was fucking crazy?

  “How’d you know it was my car?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And why would you stick around to see, after what you just did?”

  “I pay attention to details. Okay. It’s part of my lifestyle. And … I ain’t scared of shit. I needed to know for sure it was your car,” he explained. He stared at me. “Now that I do, get your shit and c’mon, yo,” he demanded.

  “Do you really think I’m gonna leave with you now? What if somebody called the cops and—”

  That nigga literally laughed in my face. “Really? You think the cops are comin’ here? Why the fuck you think all types of shit go down here? Ain’t nobody ’bout to call no cops.”

  He was right. It occurred to me that I was in the most unsafe place possible. If Rae did show up to kill me, I had no chance of surviving. Once again Pistol was there to rescue me, and so … I decided to be saved.

  I got my stuff together in a hurry, and Pistol and I ran to our cars in the parking lot. We both got behind the wheel and hightailed it out of there. Pistol drove as fast as hell, bending corners and shit, like he hadn’t just committed a few crimes already. It was a good thing that I was driving my own car. By the time we pulled up to his condo, my nerves were even more shot than before.

  He walked over to my car, and I put the window down. “You okay?” he asked as he glanced at me.

  I unbuckled my seat belt. “Barely.”

  “Look … Daisha, I didn’t mean to scare you, but shit is way more real than you could ever imagine.”

  “What you mean by that?”

  “We’ll talk when we get inside.” His eyes were on mine, and for some odd reason, I trusted him.

  With what I’d been through with people, my trust was rare, so I was questioning myself. I didn’t say another word as I got out of my car and we walked inside the building. All I did was wait, which was agony. He seemed to be my knight in shining armor, but damn, he was a killer. When I thought about it, though, maybe I needed a killer on my side. The thought actually made me feel safer.

  Once we were inside his condo, he turned to look at me. “You hungry?”

  I didn’t expect that question, but my ribs were touching. I hadn’t had anything to eat since earlier. “Kinda,” I said, not letting on that I was ravenous. As hungry as I was, I wanted to know what he was talking about when he said that shit was more real than I could imagine. But I didn’t ask.

  He nodded. “Cool. I’ll order something. Chinese or pizza?”

  “Pizza. I don’t do Chinese anymore.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

  “Good. Me either. I can’t identify anything other than
the wings.” He let out a chuckle. “What you like on your pizza?”

  “It don’t matter. Whatever you eat. I’m sure you’re hungry too.”

  He sat down on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. “I would’ve stopped to get something, but …”

  I nodded and sat down. “I understand why you didn’t.”

  “Good.”

  He pulled out his phone and dialed. When someone answered his call, he said, “Yeah, I want to order a medium pizza with grilled chicken, onions, peppers, black olives, and extra cheese. Hold on.” He looked at me. “What do you want on yours?”

  “I can’t eat a whole medium pizza,” I protested.

  Pistol shrugged. “And?”

  “Uh, pepperoni, sausage, extra cheese, onions, peppers, and ground beef.” Shit. I was hungry.

  He relayed my order, then looked at me again. “What kind of crust?”

  “Thick. For all those toppings.”

  We both laughed.

  “Pan for both,” he said into the phone as he grinned at me.

  Damn, that nigga was too fine. My pussy was suddenly wet as hell, which was badass timing. Suddenly, my smile faded, but he didn’t seem to notice as he wrapped up the order.

  “Cash.” He paused to listen. “Thanks. Bye.” He ended the call and then turned to look at me. His stare was intense.

  “Uh, can you talk to me now? I know that the pizza’s gonna take a while,” I said. My heartbeat had increased from his stare.

  Pistol’s stare didn’t falter as he nodded. “Do you know a nigga named G, this dude that your boyfriend fucks wit’?”

  “Yeah, I know G. We grew up together. His real name is Greg. He’s my … well … he’s my ex–best friend’s older brother.” The thought of how Kevia had betrayed me made my skin crawl.

  “Ex–best friend?”

  “Yeah, it’s a long story. Kevia introduced me to Rae. G is her brother. Earlier today she tried to get me to talk to Rae, but … How do you know G?”

  “Look, Ma, that nigga G’s a fuckin’ perv. He touched my cousin’s daughter and shit.”

  “Ew!” I frowned.

  Greg, aka G, wasn’t one of my favorite people, but at that point Kevia and Rae weren’t, either.

  “So, I killed him earlier… .”

  “How many mu’fuckas have you killed?” I stood up.

  “Calm down. Please. Just hear me out. Please. Sit.”

  Shit. What else was I going to do at that point? It wasn’t like I had anywhere to go.

  He continued. “My fam told me that old boy was fuckin’ with his daughter’s mama, and his daughter told him that old boy had touched her. That shit went down at the cemetery today, while he was visiting his brother’s grave.”

  “Shit,” I gasped. “Why would you do the hit there?”

  I remembered Kevia and G’s brother Kevin. He was the cool and compassionate one, but G was different. I wasn’t surprised at all that he was a perv. When I used to stay over, he’d be gawking at me and shit. Kevia had told him that I was off-limits to him, and Kevin had made sure that both of us were protected.

  “It don’t matter, Ma. The fact of the matter is that the nigga’s gonna come at me now that I’ve killed his cousin and shit. Even if he didn’t recognize me at first, he’ll eventually figure out what happened. That’s why I gotta kill him first, and you gon’ help me do it.”

  I cleared my throat and looked at him. “Uh … okay, but how am I gonna do that?”

  “We’ll worry ’bout that later on. It’s gettin’ late, and we both need to eat and get some rest. Don’t you think?” His sexy eyes were penetrating mine.

  “You have such … beautiful eyes,” I heard myself say.

  “Thanks, Ma. Shit, you’re beautiful. Straight up.”

  I looked away from him, and the reality of our situation set in. It was a must that we got rid of Raekwan. He was a threat to both of our lives at that point, and he had to be dealt with if we wanted to stay alive.

  “I appreciate the compliment, but I can’t believe how fucked up things are right now. What’s the chance of you saving my life for a second time?” I shook my head as I asked the question.

  “Well, some things ain’t meant to be explained. It just is what it is.”

  “Yeah,” I had to agree. “You’re right about that.”

  Shit was definitely more real than I could’ve ever imagined. My appetite was gone all of a sudden, and I felt sick to my stomach.

  “Don’t worry. I ain’t gon’ let nothing happen to you.”

  “Why do you care?” My voice was weak, but I needed to know the answer.

  He stared into my eyes without flinching. “’Cause I want to.”

  Wow. “It’s that simple, huh?”

  With a nod, he said, “Yup. That simple.”

  “I gotta use the restroom.”

  I scurried off, remembering where the master bathroom was. On the way there, I thought about how sparsely furnished his spot was. It made me wonder why such a nice place wasn’t lavishly furnished. Maybe he’d just moved in. We were both quite young, and it was a bachelor pad. The lack of furniture was surely a telltale sign that he didn’t have a girlfriend. If I was his woman, that shit would’ve been laid.

  A sliver of moonlight shined through the blinds in the bathroom, creating a glow that allowed me to see the light switch on the wall. I flicked the light on, bent down over to toilet, and waited for the vomit to come up. It never did. I stood up and took a deep breath. Maybe it was just my nerves once again. I’d been diagnosed with anxiety a couple of years ago, but I wasn’t one to be on any prescribed medication. I wasn’t going to depend on that shit for the rest of my life. I’d just have to deal with my issues on my own.

  Maybe my urge to throw up wasn’t just anxiety or the thought of being with a complete stranger who was obviously a cold-blooded killer. What if the urge to throw up wasn’t related to the fact that Rae wanted to kill me and that Pistol had killed Rae’s cousin, who had run Bankhead, one of the most infamous neighborhoods in Atlanta? Then again, there was a chance that I felt sick to my stomach because of these two things, though Kevia’s mystery pills might have something to do with my nausea too. Something told me to flush those pills that Kevia had given me. I took them out of my pocket, dumped them in the toilet, and pressed the lever.

  After flushing the pills and taking a few minutes to reflect, I was back in Pistol’s sexy, but intimidating, presence. There was just something about him that was exhilarating to my senses. It was like everything was in overdrive. My physical attraction to him was so over the top. I played it off really well, though. As we waited for our food to arrive, we talked. The subject of our mothers came up.

  I learned that he was close to his mom, and he learned that I was estranged from mine. Neither of our fathers was in the picture. His had been murdered, and mine had just decided to leave. In such a short amount of time, I could tell that he was close to his family, but where were they?

  “Your family’s here?” I asked as my stomach started to growl.

  Pistol smiled. “Nah, they’re in North Carolina.” He glanced at his cell phone. “It’s been over an hour since I ordered the pizzas. I should call—”

  At that moment there was a knock on the door.

  He stood up and walked over to answer it with as much swag as he would have in the streets. That shit was a true turn-on, because it seemed so natural. I could tell that he was cautious about everything, because he looked through the blinds to check out the car before he even peeked through the peephole.

  I waited while he paid for the pizzas. After the transaction was done, he closed the door and locked it securely. When I smelled the cheesy deliciousness, I was ready to dig in. The upset stomach from earlier was gone. Pistol had somehow put me at ease. Maybe it was the effortless flow of our conversation. Then again, it was probably the fact that he was so domineering. For that reason, I wasn’t afraid of anything happening to me.

  Pistol put the
pizzas down on the coffee table, then went off to the kitchen to grab plates and something for us to drink. I insisted on something that was laced with alcohol. When he returned to the living room, I was already indulging in the hot pizza. That shit burned the roof of my mouth, and I hissed in pain.

  “That’s what you get for bein’ all fast. You should’ve waited for me.” He chuckled and sat down beside me on the sofa. “Let it cool off, baby girl.”

  My dad used to call me that.

  Despite what was really going on in our worlds, we managed to share lighthearted, funny banter. I really liked Pistol. He was hard, to a certain extent, but he had a sense of humor. That was something that I hadn’t seemed to find in the men I’d dealt with in the past. They had all seemed to have a chip on their shoulders, which they hadn’t been able to shake off. It seemed that Pistol, on the other hand, didn’t let anything get to him.

  “You’re as cool as a cucumber,” I told him as I grabbed my second slice of pizza.

  “Hmm.” He glanced at me as he took a sip of Henny and Coke. “You just don’t know, Ma. I know how to act around a lady, but I can be a hothead at times.”

  “Well, I figured that much about you. I’m just sayin’. Most niggas don’t know how to draw the line. At least you can recognize a lady when you see one. I like how you don’t seem to judge me by my circumstances.”

  “Who am I to judge?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Shit, I ain’t perfect. Not by a long shot.”

  Damn. The fact that he said that made me want him even more, which was probably going to pose a problem. One thing about me was, I was one of those weak-ass women who didn’t know how to separate love from sex. That had been my downfall for a long time. For the most part, I was able to hold my own, but if a man put it down in the bedroom, I became his sucker. Shit, I had to work on that. There was no way that I could let him touch me. His eyes and lips said it all, along with his body language. That nigga wanted me bad, and with my luck, he would be the one to have me all fucked up.

  Chapter 8