Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry

by Brittani Williams

  “Hello.”

  “Thunder, it’s me, Ricky. I need you to meet me down at the Tower Records on South Street in about half an hour,” Ricky said.

  “Drama?” Thunder asked, excited.

  “Yeah, but it ain’t nothing real major. Some punk who works there has been stalking a friend of mine.”

  “A pervert, pussy chaser. No more needs to be said. I’m on my way there,” Thunder said hanging up the phone.

  “Stop crying, shorty. Everything is going to be okay. You owe me for this,” Ricky said with a smile, driving out of the parking garage.

  “Don’t worry. I’m looking forward to paying my debts,” Carmen teased back.

  While Ricky navigated his BMW through the congested City Line Avenue traffic, Carmen turned on the CD player and let the melodic, soulful voices of Jagged Edge take her far away.

  On the corner of Sixteenth & Ellsworth,

  South Philly

  Flex saw Roscoe’s Escalade pull up and park. He quickly got out of his car and ran over to the truck and got inside.

  “What’s up, Roscoe? What took you so long?” Flex asked.

  “We was down at the Tasker Home Projects taking care of some very important business,” Roscoe laughed.

  “Yeah and somebody had to get fucked, literally, for not paying their debt,” Damon added, laughing.

  Flex went into his jacket pocket and took out a thick roll of money.

  “Damn, you ain’t playing up in that club!” Roscoe said.

  “Man, them kids is eating up those X-pills,” Flex said with a smile.

  “Just make sure you watch yourself. If you ever get caught with them pills, you’ll be looking at a lot of time,” Roscoe warned, passing Flex a small brown paper bag.

  “Don’t worry about me, Roscoe. I got this,” Flex said while rushing out of the truck. Roscoe and Damon watched him get into his car and speed away.

  “So what’s up now? What we gonna do next?” Damon asked.

  “We going to North Philly to go see Ronny. It’s time for him to pay his overdue tab. Let’s hope he ain’t got it, because his girlfriend has a phat ass better than Keisha’s,” Roscoe said, as they both started laughing. Roscoe turned down Broad Street and headed toward North Philadelphia with money, lust, and sex on his evil mind.

  * * *

  When Carmen walked into the crowded Tower Records music store on South Street, she was nervous as hell. Before she had gone into the music store, Ricky and Thunder had told her what to do. And once Carmen did her job, they would take care of the rest. Calvin spotted Carmen as soon as she walked through the door. He laid down a box of new CDs and quickly approached her. Carmen stood there with a big fake smile on her face.

  “So you finally got tired of me chasing you, huh?” Calvin asked with a smile.

  “I just wanted to see just how persistent you really were. A girl can’t be too easy,” she smiled.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up the other night before you left my apartment?” he asked seriously.

  “You were sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “I’ve been calling you for days,” Calvin said, agitated.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve been real busy. When can you get a break? I really need to talk to you.”

  “I can take a break now. I’m the assistant manager,” he said proudly.

  “I have my new truck parked around the corner. Can we go talk for a few minutes?” she asked.

  “Yeah, let’s go,” Calvin said, excited.

  When they walked outside, Carmen noticed Calvin’s blue Maxima parked right out front. She was sure that it was the same car that had followed her from the supermarket earlier.

  The big blue Excursion they walked to had dark tint on all the windows.

  “That’s a big-ass truck!” Calvin exclaimed.

  “Oh, I can handle it. The bigger the better,” she smiled. She walked around and used the key to get inside.

  When she popped the lock up, Calvin quickly climbed in. Before he could say a word, the doors locked and a large arm wrapped tightly around his skinny neck. Thunder had been lying down in the backseat hiding behind the front passenger seat. He had Calvin gripped inside his huge arms. Calvin was struggling just to breathe. Carmen quickly pulled off down the street. Ricky pulled off right behind them. Calvin’s face was red as an apple. The more he struggled, the more he could feel all the air leaving his body. He finally just let his hands fall to his side and gave up.

  Five minutes later, Carmen pulled up into a secluded area, behind an old warehouse on Third Street. The warehouse was run-down and empty. After she parked, Ricky parked beside her and quickly got out of his car. He ran over and opened the passenger door. He grabbed Calvin’s legs and dragged him out of the truck. Then Thunder got out of the truck and started stomping Calvin with his boots. Ricky joined in. After stomping him into a bloody mess, Thunder picked up his bruised body and held him while Ricky beat the hell out of him with his two fists. Calvin’s face was bloody and swollen beyond recognition. Ricky had broken his jaw, some teeth, and one of his ribs.

  “Carmen, come here!” Ricky yelled.

  Carmen got out of the truck and walked up to him. Ricky grabbed Calvin’s hair and lifted his beaten face.

  “Do you see this woman, motherfucker?” Ricky asked angrily.

  “Yelth. Yelth, mhan,” Calvin muttered with his broken jaw.

  “If you ever call her again, or if you ever follow her again, the next time, we won’t be so nice,” Ricky warned. “You hear me, motherfucker?”

  “Yelth, I hwear ywou!” Calvin muttered in pain.

  Thunder released Calvin’s beaten body, then kicked him hard in his ass. Calvin’s broken, bloody body slumped on the ground. Blood was flowing from his nose, eyes, and mouth. When he heard the two vehicles pull off, he was too beat up to get off the ground. As he lay there on the cold ground, Calvin knew that he would never bother Carmen again. She was the last person he ever wanted to see.

  * * *

  “Thanks, big guy. I’ll talk to you later,” Ricky said closing his cell phone. Ricky watched as Thunder made a right turn at the corner and drove in the opposite direction. He looked over at Carmen’s smiling face.

  “Thanks, Ricky,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about it, pretty. You just remember what I said and stay focused out on these crazy streets,” he warned.

  “Since it’s only 2:05, and you don’t have to pick up your daughter until 3: 15, let’s swing by your spot. I can clean that blood off your hands,” she said.

  “And that’s it?” he asked.

  “No, but since we won’t have enough time to get all freaky like we usually do, I’m gonna do that trick you like with my tongue,” she teased.

  “Which one?”

  “The one that makes all your toes curl,” Carmen said with a smile.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Trouble Comes

  Friday afternoon, inside a small house in North Philly

  “Shut up, you stupid bitch!” Roscoe said, smacking the scared female to the floor.

  “Please, Roscoe, I’ma get you all your money! I get my welfare check next week!” she cried.

  “Bitch, you told me that same fucking story last week,” Roscoe said, reaching down and squeezing his hand around her skinny throat. With an evil look on his face, he tightened his grip as hard as he could. The woman grabbed on his arm trying to loosen his grip, but he was too strong. When Roscoe finally let go of her throat, the woman started gasping for air. Her eyes were watery and red. Damon was standing there laughing. Both men had a thing for seeing women tortured and in pain. Roscoe punched the woman in her already swollen left eye. Once again she fell hard to the floor.

  “Why do I have to pay my husband’s debt?” she cried.

  “’Cause that punk-ass nigga got locked up, still owing me my money!” Roscoe yelled angrily.

  “Well, how much more do I have to pay? I fucked you. I sucked both of your
dicks, and I gave you money!” she cried out.

  “Bitch, your man owes me $3,500. You gave me $200, some worn-out pussy, and me and my friend a sorry-ass blowjob! I told that nigga right in front of you, if he fucks up my money, you would be the one who paid the cost.”

  “But he got locked up!” she protested.

  “Tough motherfucking cookie! I want my money, bitch. I don’t care if you have to get out and sell pussy on Broad Street!

  “Get my fucking money, and if you try to run and hide again, the next time I track you down will be the last time. I’ll be back in a few days, and you better have me some money,” Roscoe threatened as he and Damon walked out the front door.

  The scared woman sat there on the floor crying. She knew that Roscoe would be back when he said. And if she didn’t have some money for him, things would be a lot worse.

  Roscoe pulled off down the street in his truck.

  “Man, you just dogged that bitch!” Damon said laughing.

  “Fuck them bitches, man! I don’t have no soft spots for those hoes! The only bitch I care about is my own, and I got her in total check,” he bragged. “The rest of those bitches ain’t got nothing coming; I treat ’em just like I do niggas.”

  “So what’s next? The first two stops turned out to be fun!” Damon expressed.

  “We’re going to Chester, PA. I gotta go meet Robin on Ninth Street. She left a message on my voice mail.”

  “What she say?”

  “She said that she got all my money.”

  “Smart girl,” Damon laughed.

  West Philly, Forty-ninth Street and Fairmount

  Twist was standing in the doorway of his house when Ricky pulled up in his BMW and parked. Twist walked over to the car with three CDs in his hand. He passed them to Ricky and said, “Ricky, I hooked those CDs up, man. I got everybody on that list you gave me. You got over six hours of nonstop, baby-making music, man!”

  “Did you get Earth, Wind and Fire?” Ricky asked.

  “Man, I told you, I got everybody. With my computer, I can get anybody’s songs. You got Donny Hathaway, Luther, Gerald Levert, Al B. Sure!, Rose Royce, Keith Sweat, Boyz II Men, Stylistics, Dru Hill, New Edition, Blackstreet, Guy, Teddy Pendergrass, O’Jays, R. Kelly, Chico DeBarge, Maxwell, Musiq, Jill Scott—”

  “All right, Twist, I got it,” Ricky said, cutting him off.

  “So who’s the lucky girl?” Twist asked.

  “Guess,” Ricky smiled.

  “Come on, man. I’ll be standing here guessing all night.”

  “Roscoe’s fiancée,” Ricky said seriously.

  “What? No way!” Twist laughed. “The pretty little redbone who be coming to all of your shows?”

  “Yeah, she’s meeting me at my loft right after I go pick my daughter, yo, and drop her off at home.”

  “Man, Roscoe loves that girl. He waits outside the club for her every Monday and Wednesday. And I saw that big-ass rock on her finger! Oh shit,” Twist said, jumping up and down like a little kid. “Why you seeing her so early?”

  “Because she took off of work today without Roscoe knowing about it. He picks her up at her job every night at 10:00. I told her that I needed a good amount of time with her before she meets Roscoe back at the hospital where she works.”

  “Man, this is crazy. No wonder you wanted those CDs bad,” Twist said seriously.

  Ricky stuck his fist out the window and gave Twist a pound. After rolling his window up, he beeped his horn and slowly pulled off down the street. Twist stood there in total disbelief. Ricky didn’t feed into Roscoe’s game of violence. What Ricky did was a far more skillful tactic. He went after his enemy’s only weakness: his beautiful, young fiancée, Tori, the true love of Roscoe’s life. So while Roscoe was stuck on doing battle with Ricky, Ricky had strategically put a plan together to win the whole war. His lifelong enemy would never see it coming, because there are no rules in love and war.

  A few hours later

  After leaving Chester, PA, where Roscoe picked up some money that was owed, he and Damon drove across the Benjamin Franklin Bridge to Camden, New Jersey. After shaking down a few people in Jersey, they crossed over the bridge to Philly and drove to Germantown.

  Roscoe and Damon were inside a house on Chew Avenue talking to a guy. The guy’s name was Troy. He was known as the person who could get any kind of handgun on the black market. Down in the basement of the house, Troy, Roscoe, and Damon sat around a large, brown box of new guns. Inside the box was a 9 mm with attached silencer, .380s, .40, .45, .357s, .38s, and boxes of ammo. While Troy was negotiating a price for the large shipment of guns, Roscoe gave Damon a sneaky wink.

  “So what do you want for the whole box?” Roscoe asked.

  “That’s seventy-five handguns and boxes of bullets,” Troy said.

  “How much, man?” Roscoe asked again.

  “Give me $200 for each gun. Now, that’s a deal. That’s only $15,000. You’ll double that on the streets.”

  “What’s up with those silencers? Do they work?” Damon asked, picking up two 9 mm silencers. He tossed one over to Roscoe. Troy walked over by the wall and picked up a shot-up mannequin. He used it for all the gun customers who bought silencers from him.

  Roscoe and Damon loaded their clips and walked over to Troy and the mannequin.

  “Go ahead and shoot. You’ll see those silencers are the top of the line.” Troy stood the mannequin up and stepped away. Damon aimed the gun at the mannequin and squeezed twice.

  Shh! Shh! The bullets were quiet, but the powerful force knocked the mannequin to the floor.

  “I told you, man, y’all ain’t heard nothing!” Troy bragged.

  “Your turn, Roscoe,” he said, walking over and standing the mannequin back up. Roscoe pointed the gun at the mannequin and laughed.

  “What’s wrong?” Troy asked.

  Turning, Roscoe pointed the gun at Troy’s head and said, “Nothing, you stupid motherfucker!” Then he squeezed the trigger.

  Shh! Shh!

  Damon shot Troy three more times in the head. Troy’s body stopped moving. Roscoe and Damon quickly grabbed the entire box of guns and carried them upstairs. After putting the box of guns in the back of Roscoe’s Escalade, they sped off. For them, today had been a perfect day. Three women had been beaten, three others had paid their debts, one man beat down severely, and now another one dead. On top of all that, they came away with seventy-five brand-new guns and ammo. On their way back to West Philly, they smoked on a fat blunt and laughed.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Mr. Orgasm”

  Pure bliss

  When Ricky had pulled up in front of his loft, Tori was already standing outside waiting. She was looking even prettier than the last time he had seen her. When Ricky got out of his car, nervousness swept through Tori’s entire body. She was nervous more than she had ever been in all her life—and just as scared. Even with all the nervousness, her body was still burning with desire. Tori was dressed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans that made her nice round ass stick out even more. Her hair was done up in a long braided ponytail that hung down her back. She was wearing a tan-colored Versace jacket and a pair of matching Versace sandals.

  When they walked into the loft, she was in total amazement. It was laid out like one of those expensive condos she had seen in magazines. Without any words being spoken, Ricky grabbed her hand and walked her back into his bedroom. When she saw the mirrors all over the walls, she just smiled and shook her head.

  “Take off your clothes and get relaxed. I’ll be right back,” he said, walking out of the bedroom.

  Tori sat on the edge of the bed and took off her jacket. The nervousness was slowly subsiding. As she began taking off the rest of her clothes and shoes, music started flowing out of the speakers. When Ricky walked back into the room, he held two glasses of white Zinfandel in his hands. Tori just sat there smiling. Her blouse and jeans were still on.

  “I want you to stand up and take everything off.”


  “Everything?” she said softly.

  “Everything!” Ricky said in a serious voice.

  Tori stood up from the bed and started to slowly undress. Ricky watched as she unbuttoned her blouse and laid it on the carpeted floor. Then she slid off her jeans, bra, and thong. He stood there staring at her beautiful, petite body. From head to toe, she was a work of fine art. He walked up to her and passed her the glass of wine.

  “Now, go lie back on my bed and relax,” he instructed.

  Tori climbed on the large king-size bed and got comfortable. She sat there sipping on the wine, watching Ricky’s every move. Her nervousness was now a forgotten memory. Wetness was building up inside of her love tunnel. She sipped and watched Ricky slowly undress in front of her. When he was totally naked, she just sat there in amazement. He had the perfect body, she thought. He was chiseled to perfection with muscles in all the right places. And the man was hung like a horse.

  “Oh my God!” Tori softly muttered to herself. She quickly sipped down the rest of her wine and just shook her head.

  “The reason why I told you to get undressed was because when you’re around me, I want you to be totally free with your body. In order for us to reach that ultimate level, we must first be on the same page,” he said.

  After Ricky finished his wine, he placed both of the empty wineglasses on the floor. Then he told Tori to lie on her stomach across the bed. She did as he told her without protest. Ricky reached under a pillow and took out a small bottle of peach body lotion. After rubbing it on his hands, he sank his warm fingers into Tori’s back.

  “Now, just relax and let me take your mind, body, and soul far away,” he said while massaging his strong hands into her soft, delicate skin.

  As Ricky explored her body with his hands, Tori was lost in a world of passion and desire. From forehead to her pedicured toes, Ricky let his hands travel nonstop. He massaged her neck, upper and lower back, ass, thighs, shoulders, arms, and feet. Then he turned her over on her back and did the same to her breasts, erected nipples, face, all over her stomach, and the gold belly ring she had inside her navel. When Ricky had finally finished, he started kissing the nape of her neck and around her earlobes.