Dating Games
Page 22
“But you didn’t!” Henny said, raising her voice, then looking around to make sure no one had heard her.
“But I got the money now.”
“Then tell me how.“
Rafe thought for a moment, then thought better against it. “I get paid like everybody else.”
“But enough to afford this?”
“I make money, and that’s all you need to know.”
“I don’t think so,” Henny said, pulling the napkin from out of her lap and standing up. “I think you need to be taking me home.”
Rafe looked up at her, wanting to stop her, to stop this, tell her to sit down so they could rewind, work this out, but he simply said, “Fine. Let’s go.”
He hailed another cab back to Henny’s place. When the taxi pulled up in front of her building, Henny jumped out, slammed the door harder than she had to, and headed for the steps to the front door. Rafe watched her as she went, telling himself that this was going to happen anyway. Eventually she would’ve gotten sick of his being poor, of his having nothing, and no education, and then she would’ve left him. Tonight, things had just gotten sped along a little.
THIRTY-THREE
TWO NIGHTS later, Ally was at a club that was far too packed for her taste. It took her much longer than she had hoped, pushing and shoving her way through bunches of people, just to get seen and approached by men. She didn’t know how JJ, Sasha, and Lisa were making out, but after an hour, Ally finally had some man drooling over her, buying her drinks, and telling her just how much money he made, how much he was carrying in his pocket at that moment, and how much he would sure love to take her home with him.
“I don’t go home with men the same night I meet them,” Ally said, cutting her eyes, as if he said something that had greatly offended her. “But I don’t mind hotels,” she threw in.
The man beside her was a rough-looking character, wearing slacks and just a button-down vest over his bare torso, countless gold chains of varying lengths looped around his neck. He smiled. “Cool.”
“One more thing,” Ally said.
The man’s smile shrunk a little.
“You got a boy? ’Cause I got three friends with me, and I don’t think you could handle us all.”
He smiled even wider this time, nodding his head. “Yeah, my boy is out there somewhere. I’ll go find him. We’ll get your girls and be out. Don’t go nowhere.”
Ally nodded, not looking up at the man, just swallowing the last of her drink through her straw. After that, she spun on her stool and looked out over the bobbing and swaying sea of heads moving to the deafening music that shook the walls of the huge club.
Ally didn’t see any of her girls and was starting to get frustrated because she really wasn’t in the mood for this tonight. She wanted to grab her gang, get those guys back to the hotel, jack them quickly, and be out. If she could help it, she wouldn’t have to participate in any of the nonsense that took place the last time. It was way too much work for the amount of money they had each gotten out of it.
Suddenly, Ally was grabbed by her upper arm, and then she heard a man’s voice say into her ear, “What are you doing here?”
She quickly turned to see who this was, grabbing her like he owned her. When she looked into his face, she saw that it was what’s his name … Rafe. The punk who had passed her up for her sister.
Ally looked at Rafe, dropped her eyes down to the hand that was still wrapped around her arm. “Do you mind? You lost the chance to get your feel the day you punked on me.”
Rafe released his grip on her.
“But you can always buy me a drink.”
“You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?” Rafe asked the question as if there was life-and-death importance in it.
“What are you doin’ here? Steppin’ out on my sister already?”
“I’m here with a friend,” Rafe said, looking over his shoulder. “But that’s none of your business.”
“Well, I’m just chillin’.”
“And what about the guy you been sittin’ here talking to all night?”
“Why you wanna know?”
“Because he looks like bad news. I heard some things about him. He’s into some shit you don’t want to get involved in,” Rafe told her.
“Why, because he look like he got money? He does,” Ally said. “He got lots of it, and if that’s the kind of shit you talkin’ about, that’s exactly what I want to get involved in.” Ally spun around on her stool, turning her back to Rafe.
Rafe grabbed Ally again, spinning her back.
“What did I tell you about that?” Ally said, looking angrily up at Rafe.
“Look, just grab your things, and I’ll put you in a cab home.” Rafe reached for Ally’s purse off the bar, but she snatched it out of his hand and slapped it down back on the bar.
“I ain’t gettin’ in no damn cab. Don’t need no ride nowhere, because I’m leaving with that dude.” Ally knew this would piss Rafe off.
“Listen, you Henny’s sister, and I don’t want nothin’ to happen to you. Now I don’t know what you’re up to, but just come home with me.”
“I don’t think my sister is going to like that. And if you don’t get away from me now, I’m gonna tell her that I seen you here and you couldn’t keep your hands off of me.”
“Then you do that, but I’m gettin’ you out of here,” Rafe said. He was about to pull her from her seat when the man Ally was with came back, his boy with him. They stood on either side of Rafe.
“Yo’ baby,” he said to Ally. “Is there a problem?” Both men looked at Rafe, studied his hand on Ally’s arm.
“Naw, baby,” Ally said, sliding off the bar stool, and placing herself next to the man. “Just one more nigga thinkin’ he stand a chance, tryin’ to holla’. Like I said,” Ally said, turning to Rafe. “I already got plans for tonight.”
“Look,” Rafe said, trying to pull Ally to his side. “Just come with me, please.”
“Yo, potna,” the man with the vest said, reaching over, grabbing Rafe’s arm and yanking it off of Ally. “I think she said she don’t want to come with you. You understand that, or do I got to make you understand?”
Rafe looked at the man, felt the grip he had on his arm. He sized him up quickly. He could take him, could flip his big ass, have him on the floor, his foot dug into his throat before he knew it, but Rafe backed off.
“Naw, I understand, man. My fault,” and he backed up, giving Ally one more cautionary look. She turned away from him, whispering something in the man’s ear, then laughing with him.
IT TOOK another half an hour, but Ally found JJ, Sasha, and Lisa, and they all left in the guy’s Infiniti. The hit went off just as smoothly as Ally was hoping. As soon as they walked into the hotel room, the guy—Mason was his name—told Lisa to make them all some drinks. She did as she was told, returned, giving the men their glasses of gin and O.J., which they threw back. Approximately ten minutes later, both men were soundly sleeping, and the girls went about the task of taking anything and everything of value from them.
On their way home, they stopped off at an all-night pawnshop and sold all the jewelry they’d taken. After getting back to JJ’s place, they split a little more than sixteen hundred dollars among them.
The motherfucker lied, Ally thought. He didn’t have as much money on him as he said. The girls were disappointed, but it was another four hundred in each of their pockets, and they all agreed that next time they would just have to do a better job at picking the right hit.
THIRTY-FOUR
OVER THE past week, Rafe had been hanging with Smoke outside the dealership, because he had no choice. One day after he was finished with work, Smoke came to him and said, “Go home, change into something nice, and be ready in a couple of hours.”
“Why?” Rafe wondered. “My job is to fix cars around here. Why does that require me going home and changing clothes?”
“Because I said it does. I told you, I just want you
to hang with me for a little while. See how shit is. You never know. You might like it.”
When Smoke came to pick Rafe up, they would hit clubs, sit around, drink, have a good time, nothing more than that. Afterward, Smoke would drop Rafe off at his place, and that would be it.
“We had a good time tonight, didn’t we?” Smoke said, turning to Rafe from the driver’s seat, smiling, after one of the nights they had hung out.
“Yeah, it was cool.” Rafe couldn’t deny it.
“Ain’t nothin’ like the VIP section, hunh?”
Rafe agreed, thinking about all the beautiful women walking around, catering to Smoke’s every desire.
“So this is your spot?” Smoke tilted his head toward the house Rafe lived in. “A single room up there?”
“Yeah, this is home,” Rafe said, turning to look at the place as well.
“You can do better, man. I got property. Lakefront. It’s phat to death, and I—”
“I ain’t takin’ it, Smoke,” Rafe said, stopping him. “I ain’t take your car. I sure as hell ain’t taking no crib.”
“I still think you crazy for that, Rafe. But it’s cool. You know where the keys are, where the car’s parked. Whenever you ready for it, it’s yours.”
He would never be ready for it, Rafe thought, getting out of Smoke’s car, and heading up to his room. But he didn’t know then what he would see the following night.
THAT NEXT evening, Rafe picked up the phone at least half a dozen times to call Henny at work, tell her that he was wrong about what happened while they were at dinner. It had been a week since he had spoken to her. He wanted to explain to her that he was scared that she’d lose interest in him, scared that he couldn’t compare to the men she would meet down at that school—educated men with money and a future. That wasn’t him, and Rafe was sure that she would come to realize that sooner or later and leave him. He wanted to tell her how much that would kill him, because no one had ever cared for him the way she had.
Rafe held the phone to his ear, poised to dial Henny’s work number again, but after a moment, he lowered it back into its cradle. He would just go there, he thought. What he had to say to her, he needed to tell her in person.
He was a little late getting there because of the bus again, but he was hoping that she hadn’t left yet. Rafe quickly turned the corner onto the street the library was on. But then he halted and stepped back behind that corner, peering around it.
What he saw was Henny walking out of the library and toward a man leaning against the hood of his car. It was a huge brand-new Cadillac, and Rafe hated to admit it, but the man was handsome, well dressed, totally out of his league. Henny walked over to him. The man extended his arms and gave her a hug. He kissed her on the side of the face, smiled, and opened the passenger side door for her.
Rafe felt his insides burning, felt a jealous wave pass over him, and thought about racing over there, throwing punches at that man, whoever he was, beating him unrecognizable. But why would he do that? The man hadn’t knocked Hennesey over the head. He wasn’t dragging her screaming into the back of his car. She hugged that man, let him kiss her, got in voluntarily because she wanted to.
Rafe watched as the man strode back around his car, got in, and drove off with Rafe’s woman.
So Rafe was right, he thought to himself now. She did want a man with money and nice things, and he thought back to what Wade had told him about why he drove around in a Lincoln. The best woman Rafe had ever had, and he was about to lose her because he didn’t have the things it took to impress her, to keep her interested. That shit wasn’t going to happen, he told himself. He turned around and headed back to catch the bus, knowing it would be for the last time.
THE FOLLOWING night, Rafe was sitting with Smoke and Trunk at a rounded booth in the corner of a club called SoulSmack. The table was covered with glasses of liquor, dense smoke hanging over their heads from Smoke’s cigar. Another on a list of many nameless, beautiful women was pushed up against Smoke, her hand dipping below the surface of the table and in between his legs.
“So how you liking that ride?” Smoke leaned over and whispered into Rafe’s ear. “Saw you take the Jag out for lunch. What changed your mind?”
“You said it was mine whenever I was ready for it, right?” Rafe said back out the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s just say I was ready for it, and leave it at that.”
“Cool, baby.” Smoke turned away from Rafe, when his attention was caught by someone walking through the front door and heading toward the men’s room.
Smoke leaned over, whispered something to Trunk, then excused himself with a smile. “Got to got take a leak, baby. Be right back,” he said to the woman next to him.
Trunk steadily watched Smoke as he went.
“So, what did you say your name was again?” Smoke’s girl for the night asked.
“Didn’t say,” Rafe answered, paying no attention to her, but focusing on the men’s room door. It had been only a few moments since both men disappeared into the restroom, but something was telling Rafe that not everything was right.
He scooted across the vinyl bench, wiggling out from under the table, and stood.
Trunk looked up at Rafe. “Where you think you goin’?”
“It ain’t none of your damn business where I’m goin’,” Rafe said, turning and walking in the direction Smoke had gone in.
The music was blasting throughout the club, but as Rafe neared the men’s room door, he heard muffled yelling. It was a man’s voice, then Smoke’s voice over his. “Fuck that! I told you that if you ever did it again then I would—” Rafe heard Smoke threatening just before he burst through the door to find a man looking frightened to death, backed up into a urinal, his slacks undone, a dark urine stain stretching down the front of his pants.
Smoke stood in front of him, holding a gun high in the air and pointing it downward at the man, as if he was going to shoot him on top of the head.
“Please, please!” the man begged, tears in his eyes, his palms raised. “I won’t ever—”
“Fuck that, motherfucker!” Rafe heard Smoke say, and before he knew it, Rafe was lunging forward, wrapping his arms around Smoke, because he knew Smoke was about to pull the trigger, kill this man right there in front of him.
Rafe got his arms around Smoke, pulling the gun down before it discharged. Smoke spun on Rafe, not looking into his face, just sliding the barrel of the gun in between Rafe’s ribs. Rafe thought he was going to die that very moment.
“Smoke! It’s me!” Rafe yelled, holding him tighter, bracing himself for the explosion he thought he would feel. Smoke looked into his eyes, and still Rafe waited to feel the bullet tearing through him, until the expression on Smoke’s face changed from deathly to familiar. He almost smiled.
“Fuck you doin’ in here, Rafe?” Smoke asked, still not pulling the gun from out of Rafe’s gut.
“Don’t do it, Smoke. Don’t do it, man. It ain’t worth it,” Rafe said.
“Listen to him,” the crying man said, his hands still up, now backed all the way up into the urinal, his behind dipped into the bowl of water.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Smoke raised the gun over Rafe’s shoulder, pointing it at the man. “You stoppin’ me from taking care of my business,” Smoke said, directing his attention to Rafe. “You don’t even know what’s goin’ on, and you stoppin’ me.”
“You said no more crazy shit was gonna happen if I hung out with you, Smoke, remember? You promised. Just let this shit ride.” Rafe tried to convince Smoke, looking deeply into his eyes. Smoke was glaring at the man, then looking back at Rafe, as if he was weighing what was more important to him—his word to Rafe or seeing this man dead.
“Whatever the fuck he did, Smoke, you lettin’ him live will prove you to be a much stronger man than if you kill him. Just let him walk, dog. Let him walk.”
Smoke was eyeing the man, then looked back into Rafe’s face, and all o
f a sudden, he lowered the gun and started to smile. “You right, Rafe. Damn right.”
Rafe heard the man on the urinal sigh loudly.
“Yo’ ass was saved today by my boy,” Smoke said, sliding his gun back into the waist of his pants. He then walked over to the man. “Thank him for that shit.”
“What?” the man said, wide-eyed.
“I said, thank my man for saving your sorry-ass life!” Smoke looked as though he was about to reach for the gun again.
“Thank you, thank you,” the man said, quickly looking Rafe directly in the face. He was terrified and sincerely grateful. Rafe could see that plainly on his face, knew that whatever had gotten the man here to begin with, he would never involve himself in again.
After that, Rafe and Smoke stayed at the club for only a half an hour longer. When they got outside, Trunk grabbed Rafe by the arm.
“Yo’ dude. I gotta talk to you.”
“Talk to me about what?” Rafe said, allowing himself to be held.
“Just step over here. It’s something that got to be said.”
Smoke stopped a few paces in front of them, looking back. Rafe shot him a questioning glance.
“Go ahead,” Smoke said, reading the situation. “I’ll be in the car.”
Trunk pulled Rafe aside and directed him just behind the club, into a trash-and dumpster-lined alley.
“What’s up?” Rafe asked, looking up at Trunk, standing wide and heavy in front of him.
“You interrupted Smoke’s business,” Trunk finally said. “That shit had to get taken care of and you—”
“Me and Smoke cleared that up, all right?” Rafe said, turning to walk away from Trunk, but was grabbed, practically lifted off the ground, and put back in his place.
“Like I was sayin’,” Trunk continued, “you fucked that up. Don’t ever do that again,” he said, pointing a thick, iron bar-like finger in Rafe’s face. “’Cause whether you like it or not, business always get done.”