Pursuing The Plug

by Mercy B

  “Hampsher, feeding strays is always a bad idea.”

  The bathroom water was running, a sign that she’d awaken before him again and was possibly handling her business. Not wanting to interrupt, though his morning erection was a result of his need for pussy and to piss, Rafeeq headed toward the kitchen to hydrate his body. His mouth was dry and throat groggy.

  In the nude, he found his way and poured himself water in the single clear glass that was in the dish rack. Taking a look through the cabinets as he sipped his water, Rafeeq noticed Hampsher’s home was as empty of a shell as she was. The girl was barely living, one of everything and barely a sign of life inside. The only thing that was plentiful was the cat food and pet bowls that were next to the damn near empty drying rack.

  “Hampsher,” Rafeeq called out after realizing he’d been in the kitchen for at least ten minutes, and his glass had been refilled more than once. By this time, holding his piss was impossible.

  Turning the nob on the bathroom door, he was surprised that it was unlocked. Stepping inside, Rafeeq was astounded to find the water in the sink running. The remainder of the small space was empty with no signs of Hampsher.

  She’d left the water running to reduce the chances of him hearing her escape through the night. The ringing of his cell blared in the distance as he digested the disappearance of Hampsher once again. The girl was like oil, forever slipping through his grasp.

  “Yeah, Pops?” Rafeeq answered after he’d reached his cellphone.

  “We have a situation,” RahMeek stated with uneasiness evident in his voice.

  “How big of a situation?” Rafeeq questioned. He was already half dressed after the first few words.

  “Crim.”

  There was nothing left to say. Rafeeq ended the call and continued to dress. Within seconds, he was out of the door, hoping that it would lock itself. There were more pressing issues ahead, and the less he thought about anything else, the more he could decipher his father’s message.

  “Get me to Reign’s. We need to pick up my father and head to Philly.” He spoke to his driver the minute he was inside of the vehicle.

  The plane wasn’t gassed and neither was it ready to fly immediately. There wasn’t a second to be spared, so the drive to Philadelphia was a necessary one. Besides, Rafeeq wasn’t in the mood for the extra tasks that accompanied flying that morning.

  Five hours later, Rafeeq and RahMeek sat idly in a low-key black Nissan with the windows heavily tinted as they watched Crimson’s body being extracted from his home. The housekeeper had found him when she arrived for her weekly cleaning at five. She’d explained what she’d saw to RahMeek over the phone as well as sent pictures of the scene before the police were able to arrive. Amy was aware of the type of man that she worked for.

  If you asked anyone who knew, they’d tell you that it was the reason she stuck around and was bouncing on his dick every chance that she got. She was brokenhearted by the discovery and would miss her employer dearly. However, with Crimson dead, life for her didn’t halt. Still in college, Amy’s tuition was paid in full and her bank account was sitting lovely. Again, she loved her job and her some Crimson, which was why she was still employed.

  Both Meek and Rafeeq had suggested Crimson cut the shit and make it official, but he figured he was too player and had so many skeletons in his closet that keeping her at a distance was better for everyone. Seeing as though she wasn’t present when he was killed, he was correct. Otherwise, there would be two dead bodies being extracted.

  “A New Yorker, huh?” RahMeek broke the silence among them, attempting to lift the mood of the atmosphere.

  Crimson was a trusted solider, and Rafeeq’s right hand. Of course, niggas come and went, but when someone touched something as close to home as Crimson, there had to be something done about it. That’s where Rafeeq’s mind was, and that’s what RahMeek was concerned about. His son didn’t get his hands dirty period. It didn’t matter how old he was, it remained his duty to protect him from all hurt, harm, and danger.

  “Huh?” Rafeeq was in another zone, unsure of what his father was referring to.

  “Love didn’t bring you home last night. A New Yorker?”

  “Love?” Rafeeq’s attention was immediately piqued at the thought of Hampsher. She’d managed to leave a feeling of lonesomeness with him long after her departure. “Nah. Just something I’m interested in for the moment.”

  “The way your cheeks rose and thick ass eyebrows lifted, it seems like a little more than just something. Don’t let your mother get ahold of this. She’ll run this story in the ground.” RahMeek shook his head and turned back to stare out of the window.

  “I had that same look when I walked into the visitation room and noticed your mother was there for me. Voluntarily or involuntarily, I was determined to make the most out of our time. I went back to my cell knowing that I’d found the one, and it was up to me to find a way to make her see that… because she wasn’t trying to hear that shit.” RahMeek chuckled as he took a quick jog down memory lane.

  “That’s some kind of love story,” Rafeeq commented about his parents. “You got her while you were in the joint. Bitches leave their niggas in jail. They don’t find them there, and then you were able to keep her attention. Pops, I’ve been blown since the first time I heard how you two met.”

  “Heavy.” RahMeek faced his son. “Let me be honest with you, son. In this day and age, I’m saddened for the women. The roles have been reversed, and these men are straight pussies now. They expect a woman to chase after their ass and then take care of them after she’s barely caught them. It’s all some bullshit.” Meek scoffed.

  “My father taught me how to love a woman properly, and if there was no other lesson he was sure that I remembered, it was that one. He loves your grandmother something awful to the point that it pains him to know that one day one of them will leave this earth before the other, and he prays every day that she outlives him.”

  Meek confessed, “That’s exactly how I feel about your mother. When we first me, I knew she was it for me upon our chance encounter. Yeah, I was considered the bad guy, but I had a good heart. I still do. Because I was aware of what she expected from a black man like myself—a nigga in the streets with possibly a hundred hoes. I gave her everything she wasn’t expecting. I took care of your mother from the inside, even at times that I wanted to strangle her little ass. She kept me on my toes and gave me something to look forward to when I came home. That was enough for me because I was in no rush to get back to the streets.”

  As Rafeeq listened, he noted the fact that his father said he knew his mother was it for him after their first encounter. Truthfully, he’d imagined he was truly insane for considering anything with a woman after only one encounter, but it was what had happened for him as well. The moment Hampsher walked into his office, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to both fuck and find out what was beneath the beauty of her body.

  “Love at first sight, huh?”

  “It wasn’t love at first sight. I can admit that. It was more like an impenetrable connection was made immediately. She ain’t feel it, so I had to make her feel that shit. As potent as it was, I knew it wouldn’t be long.”

  “They’re heading out.” Rafeeq observed the vans and cars clearing the scene.

  “I’m going to pull around back, and we can access the house from there just in case they left someone behind.”

  RahMeek and Rafeeq had a simple task—clear the house of any evidence of who Crimson was and what his past involved. They were also going to clean the safes and disperse the money as he’d planned. Everyone in their circle had a living will created while they were in their right frame of mind just in case anything happened that led to their death.

  By nightfall, Rafeeq and his father had parted ways. Their jobs were complete and called for nothing more of them until the following day. RahMeek was on edge, tying the murders of other fallen soldiers to Crimson’s. It was the only logical expl
anation for the unexpected tragedy of a long term field agent.

  Rafeeq, on the other hand, didn’t give two fucks about where the ends tied together or if they did. He was certain of one thing, and that was the fact that someone had viciously murdered the man that protected him on a daily basis. If they were able to get to Crimson, then it was a possibility that they could gain access to him.

  Though neither he nor his father was worried about his safety, knowing that the city would be dismantled if a single hair on his head was touched, the uncertainty was torturous to them both. Crimson was a man of many enemies, but he had been chill for the last few years. Besides, his enemies were usually too afraid to pursue him or anyone he was involved with. Anyone who felt otherwise was under the dirt already.

  Kicking off his shoes and slugging his weight toward his bedroom, Rafeeq made plans to shower before ordering takeout and returning messages of those who had yet to retrieve their earnings from the game two nights prior. Afterward, Reign’s voice would be the next that he heard. He and his father had left so abruptly that he neglected to give the proper goodbyes. The thought had been playing on his mind for the better part of the day. With knowing that Reign felt the same tug, he made a promise to revisit after Crimson’s arrangements had been made.

  Mentally, he was exhausted, but his body was still pulling for a few hours of downtime. Standing in the shower, the beads of water massaged the nape of his neck as he held his head forward and held onto the wall for support. Rafeeq watched as his dick grew while his thoughts returned to the mysterious beauty that he’d bedded the night before.

  The way her walls gripped his dick as if they were welcoming him home each time he slid in had him wishing he’d stumbled upon the pot of treasure a bit sooner –not to mention, the freshness and inexperience that she fought through during their most intimate moments. But the things that she lacked, she accommodated with others, or at least that was the lie that Rafeeq used to convince himself of her worthiness of his continuous return, time, and the energy that he put into her even when she wasn’t around. That moment was no exception.

  “Hampsher,” he said aloud as if she’d hear him.

  She was the most enigmatic woman he’d met in his life, and Rafeeq was determined to figure her out, break her down, tear down her walls, and cross every barrier she’d set before the male species until he had her begging for his presence, sucking his dick as if her life depended on it, and staying put through the night for another dose of dick the following morning. Rafeeq had plans for her but was clueless of how to begin to see them unfold.

  Out of the shower with his dick still inflated, Rafeeq brushed a thick towel across his skin while searching his home for his cellphone. Hampsher hadn’t given him a number on her, but he had his ways. The research that he’d done had been very resourceful in his quest to conquer her.

  With the towel wrapped snuggly around his waist, Rafeeq gathered himself before resting his head on the pillow behind him with his cell clutched in his right hand. Accessing the contacts, he followed the trail of alphabets until he’d reached the one he was in search of. He tapped the screen a few times until his call was connected. The FaceTime icon hadn’t showed, which meant that she had the feature turned off or the number he was given wasn’t connected to an iPhone.

  “Hello?” Soft and angelic, her voice laced his line and soothed the notable ache in his body that he’d experienced since finding out about Crimson’s death.

  “Hampsher,” Rafeeq called out, “Is disappearing mid-morning your specialty? I’m rather offended by your lack of hospitality.”

  There was silence on both ends. In fact, it was too much silence. Pulling the phone from his face, Rafeeq waited for the light to illuminate and assure him that the timer was still in process. He wanted to believe that a casual conversation over the phone was a skill that she lacked as well which explained her silence. However, he was directed to his home screen.

  “This bitch hung up on me.” He scoffed, lifting from the bed with his softened penis and tainted heart.

  Rafeeq’s fingers went to work, reconnecting a second call with a few choice words on his mind. It was taking everything in him not to toss on a pair of shorts, a shirt, and some sneakers to take the ride to New York, but there were more pressing issues in Philly, and an impromptu trip wasn’t the smartest of ideas at the moment. So for the time being, the call would have to suffice.

  “The number you’ve reached is no longer in service. Please, hang up, and try your call again later.”

  Stunned into silence, Rafeeq removed the phone from his ear and simply stared at the screen. It was next level fuckery. In a matter of seconds, Hampsher had disconnected her line and the sole source of contact he had for her other than a personal visit. Not only did that woman make his dick stand, but she made his head hurt as well. Yet and still, he was foolishly engrossed in the idea of flipping her world upside down and helping her to unbottle and unleash the obvious feelings she’d began developing for him as well.

  He ended the call with a slight chuckle to relieve the anxiety creeping into his throat. A challenge nonetheless, Rafeeq couldn’t wait for the day that Hampsher would fall from her peak and be brought down to earth where he was and where everyone else was.

  There was only one other person on his mind as Rafeeq battled the urge to cross the Pennsylvania and New York state lines. He’d had every intention to hear the delicacy of her voice before he got down to business. With further reach and more potency in his life than any other woman, Rafeeq was sure that she’d settle his raging heart.

  “Hello?” His sister cooed in the motherly tone that she’d managed to master since the birth of her first child.

  Reign reminded him so much of his mother than it was frightening at times. She possessed Bella’s willpower, facial and body features, methods, and strategies. She was a carbon copy of the woman that had birthed them. Many would say the same for him and his father, but Rafeeq knew that their upbringing made them much different from one another.

  RahMeek was the streets and vice versa. The rugged conditions that shaped him weren’t ones that Rafeeq had ever experienced thanks to his parents. However, his heart of steel and no nonsense attitude resembled his father’s without question. When it came down to morals, standards, tolerance, and methods of thought, the two were identical.

  “Heavy.” Reign referred to Rafeeq in a concerned tone. “Is everything alright?”

  Rafeeq could hear the shuffling of covers, meaning she had drawn concern from his silence. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his sister. Again, though she was older than him, he felt like it was his duty to protect her mind, heart, body, and soul. But he needed her alone. So he remained silent until he knew that she’d gathered space of her own for them to talk in private. What he was about to say was even fearsome for him to think about.

  “Rafeeq, you’re scaring me,” Reign whispered. “Are you there?”

  The sound was very familiar. Rafeeq listened with a slight smile as he scratched his head and scooted to the edge of the bed. Reign was a rider. The sweet melodies of her ammunition being mantled were heavenly to his ears. As much as he felt the need to protect her, she was adamant about remaining his savior as well. Baby girl was loading up, ready to kill any and everything for her baby brother.

  Putting her worries to rest, Rafeeq sighed before finally speaking.

  “Reign, I found the one, and she got a nigga falling.”

  The thickness of her lips ached as she strung her violin in the darkness of the morning before the sun had risen. It wasn’t her norm. Staring out of the window into the streets as her heartstrings were tugged, she struggled with wiping her thoughts clean of him surely weren’t something that Hampsher was accustomed to.

  It had been a full week since their final encounter, a time that she wished she could revisit to feel his girth along her walls and lips upon her own. Stopping mid-stoke, Hampsher placed a single finger to the fullness of her lips and maneuvered
it back and forward before covering them with her hand and rubbing softly. She imagined his softness against hers, igniting flames between her legs and within her hollowed chest.

  Breathe. She coached herself.

  Thoughts of him had provoked her early rising. For the last two hours, she’d sat idly at her window, wondering what he was doing. Even stranger, she wondered who he was doing it with. Hampsher had made it obvious that she considered them a quick fuck, but the feelings of his presence lingered much longer than she’d anticipated. For seven days, she’d waited for the remnants that he’d left her with dissipate, but they weren’t letting her go and barely allowing her to breathe.

  Lungs filling with oxygen that he had snatched from her time and time again, Hampsher removed her fingers from her lips and bowed her head. It wasn’t a sign of the conclusion of her dazzling performance she’d completed, but a sign of defeat. She was losing herself and her sanity, and it was driving her up the wall. A control freak, she’d prided herself in controlling every aspect of her life until then… until him.

  Rafeeq, Hampsher quietly thought as her hand brushed through her flowing tresses. Rafeeq Jones. Everything about his name was alarming, but not enough for her to lose sight of him. Since he’d been placed in her path, she’d been drawn like a moth to a flame.

  Naked as the day she was born, Hampsher allowed her hand to fall down toward her protruding breasts where her nipples had budded and hardened. Taking the right one into her palm, she massaged it without caution—something that Rafeeq seemed to lack when handling her. Leaning forward, she swiped her tongue across the tip to lubricate it and make her movements that much smoother.

  “Ummmm.” A slight moan fell from her lips.

  Slowly, Hampsher placed the violin to the side of her, leaning it against her bed. Spreading her legs, she propped them on the windowsill and opened for the entire world to see through the glass. Her hand snaked across her chest and ran along her left breast before repeating the same moves.