by KR Bankston
Frowning deeply, they still didn’t speak.
“I can see by your expression you’re curious,” he returned, smiling slightly now.
“You really should start talking, one sided conversations tend to make me want to kill,” Ryan told them opening his suit jacket and revealing the .10mm resting in the shoulder holster.
“What kind of job,” Layla finally answered her mortality at risk.
“There now, that’s better,” Ryan returned, relaxing again and sitting back regarding her.
“I need eyes and ears inside Tariq’s camp for a second time,” he told her plainly as Layla sighed deeply.
“You know I can’t get anywhere near those people,” she told him, wondering why she even had to say it.
He was there when the entire King Diesel fiasco went down.
“CiCi needs a friend,” Ryan told her. “She and Tariq are still apart and she has no one really, since both Kim and Tae are still keeping her at arms distance,” he continued patiently.
“Yes, it won’t be easy, but you’re a resourceful girl, you’ll find a way to make her accept your apology and let you back inside, even if it’s a secret,” Ryan finished his tone letting her know failure was not an option.
“Let’s say I’m even able to do that,” Layla began tentatively. “How am I supposed to get information when she and Tariq aren’t even together?”
Ryan chuckled slightly. “Well, you’re going to help her there too,” he enlightened. “She’ll jump at the opportunity and again, you being the resourceful whore you are, you can definitely tell her how to use the pussy to her advantage,” Ryan spat matter-of-fact.
Layla was offended and angry at the same time, but displayed neither. She wasn’t stupid. Ryan was deadlier than King Diesel and she didn’t have the luxury of him being attracted to her on her side.
“When am I supposed to do all this, and how long do I have,” she threw out, resigning herself to her fate.
“You’ll start tomorrow, and you have 90 days,” Ryan told her.
“If CiCi isn’t back with Tariq and out of the way by then, you’ll be seeing me again, at this place,” he told her as Layla shivered involuntarily.
“Don’t get cute either and think you can outsmart me,” Ryan added as a second man stepped into her sight.
Extremely unattractive were the first thoughts in her head as she looked at him. His skin was a blotchy mess of varying degrees of unrest. Some of the whiteheads were still full of fluid, while others were draining, and several had dried forming ugly deformed scars on his face. The man’s eyes were small and feral; reminding her of a mouse or a rat perhaps. He was stocky, most of the muscle settled around his neck, lending further credence to her theory if he ever got laid it was by force or by payment.
“This is Belch and he’s going to be my security for this little journey,” Ryan told her.
They’d found the man on one of their excursions to the Bayou, recalling he’d worked for Mecca and Kareem at one time. He was so far proving to be a loyal and resourceful soldier.
“He doesn’t play and your feminine wiles would be wasted on him,” Ryan told her. “If he wants to fuck you, he will, whether you want it or not,” he added the meaning obvious.
“So just do your job and everything will be fine,” Ryan said again coldly. “If you succeed, like I said, your name comes off my death list, I’ll give you half a million dollars and you walk away,” he reasoned.
Layla nodded slightly and the deal was sealed. Ryan informed her she would be released in the next hour, rose and walked out of the room leaving her alone with Belch, a sinister smile playing on his face as he looked her over and licked his lips.
*****
Cyiarra watched as Tariq and Hasaan played the video game with their son giggling his excitement as his father helped him defeat the alien invaders. She sighed softly realizing how much she still loved the man and how very defeated she felt that he didn’t return that love. She’d hoped that being cordial, allowing him unlimited access to his son, arranging family outings, would all begin to break down the barriers and open his heart, his eyes, to the fact that they belonged together. He still loves that bitch, Cyiarra thought acidly. She absolutely hated the hold Kaitlyn had over Tariq. She couldn’t understand it. The woman had caused him nothing but pain and heartache in her estimation, yet they were held together like soldered metal. There has to be a way to get him back, he cannot be that devoid of feeling toward me, she brooded as the two returned to the table. They came to Chuck E. Cheese’s on a regular basis. Hasaan loved it.
“You ready to eat little boy,” Cyiarra asked her son.
Giggling he told her yes, as Tariq sat and the two began playing again. She could never complain that Tariq wasn’t a good and attentive father. He loved Hasaan with his whole heart. She only wished she could again regain a small portion of the beautifully golden heart he possessed.
“You want pizza too,” she asked Tariq, looking into his eyes now.
“No,” he said and made a face as she chuckled. “Nacho’s will be fine,” he told her, adding a request for a Coke before returning his attention to their son.
Cyiarra walked to the counter, her mind working ahead to tonight. If she could get Tariq to come inside when he dropped her and Hasaan off, maybe even a couple of drinks, she knew he would loosen up. From the little she could get Kim to share with her, Tariq hadn’t seen Kaitlyn in about three weeks. He’s got to be needy, she thought, not above using sex to get him back into her life. The server brought her order and placed it on the counter as Cyiarra paid for the food and headed back to the table. Sitting down she passed out all the goodies and everyone began to eat. Tariq ended up eating the pizza after all when Hasaan decided he’d rather eat his father’s nachos.
“I’m going to be sick,” Tariq groaned after the slice of pizza and Cyiarra giggled again.
He hated the pizza they served, but somehow got suckered into eating it every time they visited.
“You ready to go champ,” he asked Hasaan who was yawning widely at this point.
Even though he was a bundle of energy, his three year old battery started running low after a full day of open throttle play. He nodded slightly as Tariq smiled and picked him up, carrying him to the truck.
Cyiarra made small talk as they drove and Tariq graciously indulged her. He was never rude or callous. He was simply aloof and distant most times and that’s what bothered Cyiarra. Pulling up to her house moments later, she climbed out as Tariq exited the truck and opened the back door, taking a sleeping Hasaan from his booster seat. Perfect, she thought, knowing he would take the child directly to his room and put him in bed. She opened the door and went to the kitchen as Tariq headed down the hallway to Hasaan’s room. He undressed the child, leaving his shirt and underwear, placing him in his Toy Story themed toddler bed and tucking him in. Rising Tariq made his way back to the living room, prepared to tell Cyiarra goodnight.
“I think you might need this after the pizza,” she joked, arm outstretched as she held the glass, cognac contained.
Smiling slightly, Tariq graciously accepted the offering, sitting in the oversized recliner and sipping it lightly. Taking her in, he decided to leave as soon as he finished the drink. Tariq wasn’t stupid. He knew the woman still loved him on a deep level. He also still found her incredibly sexy and his hormones were in overdrive, having not seen Kaitlyn in the last three weeks. Tariq vowed never to make the same foolish mistakes of the past, and he fully intended to keep that promise. They chatted again about Hasaan, his preschool, the next family outing, and arrangements for the summer, before Tariq finished the drink and rose, telling Cyiarra he had to leave. To her credit, she didn’t balk, simply rising and going to the door with him. Cyiarra reached up and hugged Tariq, thanking him for today. Her warm breath on his neck immediately aroused him and he swallowed hard. Forcing himself to pull away, he told her everything was fine and walked out of the door. Cyiarra closed it, smiling as she walked
back into the kitchen, dropping off the glasses. She’d seen the change and she’d felt his erection against her body. Guess I’m not as dead to you as you want to pretend Tariq, Cyiarra mused and headed into her bedroom, grabbing her vibrator from the drawer, her own arousal needing release.
*****
The girls were still giggling and playing as Kaitlyn tried to get them to settle down.
“You two are going to get it,” she teased as they laughed.
She was helping them get ready for bed at Ian’s. It was his weekend with them and she often would put them to bed. The play had been really good and both the girls did well. She and Ian had spoken with their teacher afterward who told them what a joy it was to have both girls in her class. Finally succeeding in getting their pajama’s on, Kaitlyn promised them a quick glass of milk and a cookie if they didn’t give her anymore grief tonight. Giggling more, they agreed and took her hands heading into the kitchen. She’d just sat them at the table when Ian walked into the room.
“I need to run to the store quickly,” he told Kaitlyn as she glanced up at him.
“Would you mind staying until I get back,” he questioned, explaining that Mrs. Connors was off tonight. “The baby is asleep, so he shouldn’t be a problem,” Ian quickly threw in as Kaitlyn nodded and told him it was fine.
“I won’t be long,” Ian assured walking out after a quick wave to the girls.
Shaking her head at her daughters still totally wired from their earlier exploits, Kaitlyn told them to finish their snack so they could go to bed.
She managed to tuck them in, turning on their night lights and kissing them both on the cheek. They slept in the same room, but separate beds. Kaitlyn had always tried to maintain a sense of individuality even though they were twins.
“Good night you two,” she spoke softly, making her way out of the bedroom, pulling the door up slightly.
She left their room heading back to the den to wait on Ian’s returned when the baby began to whimper as she passed the nursery door. Pausing she waited to see if he would perhaps simply placate himself and drift back to sleep. The cries began to gather force and she realized he was awake and in some sort of distress. Opening the door, she turned on the light walking over to the crib. Standing over the infant as he began to cry in earnest, the memories came flooding back of her and Ian’s own lost son, and Kaitlyn was frozen. She was terrified to touch the child. What if he dies after I touch him, she thought, the old judgment of guilt and blame surfacing. She’d never shared with Ian how responsible she felt for their son’s death. As irrational as it may have been, Kaitlyn felt there was something, anything, she could have done to make sure little Cartier survived.
The baby’s wails grew even louder, snapping finally the trance, as Kaitlyn without thought picked him up and placed him on her shoulder, rubbing his back as she tried to soothe him.
“What’s wrong, hmm,” she asked sweetly as the baby quieted slightly.
“Are you wet,” she questioned aloud, feeling his diaper.
She supposed he might be slightly moist, accounting for his discomfort, so she changed his diaper, careful to make sure she didn’t get christened again. She smiled slightly thinking of the memory. She’d been warned about little boys and changing their diapers quickly. Kaitlyn guessed she’d been just a little slow on the draw, and Cartier got her good, wetting up her shirt and bra. She changed the baby and he settled somewhat. Kaitlyn noticed him sucking his fists and figured out he must have been hungry.
“OK, let’s see what we can do about some food for you,” she told him, cradling him now as he turned instinctively toward her breasts.
“Dude, those are so empty,” she chuckled.
Glancing around the room she spotted the small mini fridge and walked to it. The prepared bottles were inside, the microwave sitting on the small shelf above it. Popping the bottle inside she warmed and tested it. Deciding it was fine; she sat in the large rocker and began feeding the baby. Kaitlyn almost subconsciously began to hum softly as the baby ate contentedly, holding the pinky finger of her hand tightly. Ian smiled from the shadow of the hallway, where he stood having returned from the store and ascended the stairs, as he watched the two of them and prayed the wheels were finally beginning to move forward.
Liberation is not a gift bestowed upon us from our oppressor.
It is taken and owned by the decision that
NO ONE can keep them from it.
For too long we've watched silently as we've been violated by our government at every turn. The rights and needs of the poor, minorities, and women have been ignored and trampled upon. It's time to stand up and say no. You have the power to make a difference and it is as simple as casting a ballot in your local, state, and federal elections.
If you haven't registered to vote, you may do so in the following ways:
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Your right to vote was secured through blood, sweat, and tears. Exercise it to the fullest without relenting. Social change and justice for people of color is not optional: it is mandatory. Make them know this by registering your voting voice today!