When she replied immediately, I was relieved. If she was texting me then she damn sure wasn’t fucking somebody else. Yeah, I put it down, treated her like my queen and all that but I’d done a lot of wrong in my time, told a lot of lies to a lot of women. It was hard for me to completely let my guard down. I was a changed dude, but I damn sure ain’t want to go all in and throw on the blinders called love and then have someone runnin’ game on my non-seeing ass. I tried to think of something cute that would make her smile.
Everything’s good. Up here waitin’ when I rather be home with my heart.
Again she hit me right back. Aww. Well your heart is still at work, baby. This shoot is running over. I’m on standby for touchups.
I read that shit twice and looked at my watch. It was damn near midnight. Shiree hadn’t worked late in a minute. On second thought she hadn’t even been flying out for any shoots with the girls. At one point it seemed like she was working late or hopping on a jet almost every other week. All that stopped once I got her locked down though . . . or so I thought.
My fingers were going a mile a minute. Why you ain’t get somebody else to fill in? It’s late. What time you gonna be home?
I waited and after five minutes I’d finished my drink and ordered another one. Angelo was all over the place like a Chinese spinning top and I was getting more irritated by the second. The first floor was packed, standing room only, and that was my cue. I signaled the DJ and the music lowered as I made my way up to the second floor. Reality nodded, opening the solid metal door that led to my showroom. Reality was one of the guys I’d recruited for the night’s security. A dreaded, six feet six-ish, purple-black brick wall of a motherfucka controlled my door. If anyone tried to act stupid they’d get a Reality check.
The guests were all being told to consider using their password carefully. Once they came upstairs there was no going back downstairs or changing their mind. You’d be surprised how many people in this lifestyle hear something like that and push forward all gung-ho and shit. They’d seen and done everything so if you’ve got a novelty, you’d better use it to your fullest advantage. The first wave came in and stood under the black light, gripped in a state of frightened anticipation. To add some dramatic flair I’d found a Phantom of the Opera mask that covered half my face. The second floor was nothing like the club we had downstairs. Couches, chaise lounges, and oversized pillows were from one end of the room to the other. I opened a case covered in black velvet and the black light made the vials inside glow. One was incandescent pink and the other was bright blue. The room broke out in ooh’s and aah’s.
“Choose tonight’s experience. Would you like to have a wet dream or become a wet dream?” I asked them, feeling like a damn ring master.
They came up and started making their selections. Wet dream was the prison favorite and the most hated. For a woman it was the equivalent of turning on every sexually arousable nerve ending in her body. That’s how Shiree described it anyway. She said even her toes felt like they could actually cum if I touched ’em just right. It’s a sexually explosive buildup that’d have you hangin’ on a door humpin’ the hell out of a doorknob. All the while it’s feeling like you got ten niggas with ten dicks with lips on each dick going to town.
There honestly wasn’t any difference between that pink shit and the blue one. As a businessman I just knew you always need an option, and it’s always a plus if it’s pink. Women tend to gravitate toward anything pink. So it honestly didn’t matter who picked what.
“Come over here and play with me, sexy. I like the mask.”
Grinning at my handy work I quickly peeled a topless Dominican chick off my chest, shaking my head at her. The no was more for the head in my pants than for her.
You stay down, boy. Yes, I seen them pretty-ass dark exotic nipples too but we can’t play.
It was all going exactly as planned. I checked my phone and still no response from Shiree. Angelo was nowhere to be seen. Making my way up to the third deck I spotted him on a couch with two brunettes and shook my head. I specifically told him to wait until after we handled business. Of course Reality would hit me at that exact moment to let me know Don Cerzulo was on the way up. I made sure the third floor was completely empty before posting G and Fallon outside the door. Stuffing the mask behind the bar, I checked my reflection in the mirror.
Oh well, all or nothing, this is it.
“I don’t think we’ve met, Don Cerzulo, I’m—”
“Not my son. Where is Angelo?” He dismissed me and looked around suspiciously.
“Angelo is downstairs, sir. I was going to partner with him but seeing as how he’s in the middle of a naked orgy with the customers and we haven’t done any business, I’d like to rethink my options. It seems as though you might be the better businessman?” I waited.
“You don’t have anything I don’t already have. Whatever it is I can get it.”
“What I’m selling you don’t have and can’t get because I created it,” I replied smugly, setting two vials of wet dream on the bar underneath the black light.
Don Cerzulo rubbed his chin and took a seat on the sofa facing the bar. He stared at them, frowning, tilting his head from side and then to the other. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for something like this so I went behind the bar to freshen up my drink while he stared or whatever.
“What the fuck kind of laser-light show cockamamie magic shamrock shit is this? You take me for a fucking fool?” Don Cerzulo’s breath was a hot hiss into my ear.
I had to give him his props. He was quick and freakishly quiet on them old feet of his. His pistol was pressed hard up against my junk and I could feel a lonely tear burning in the corner of my eye.
“It ain’t a joke. I learned to make it locked up in VA. My name is Rasheed White; your son fake killed me for street cred. Tomorrow, every dealer in the area is gonna be lookin’ for me or wet dream because right now they on the second floor fucked up and fuckin’, and I need my dick and a truckload of shit to sell them.”
“Atta boy, no man alive’ll lie on his Johnson. Fix me a gin and tonic. How much are we talkin’ about?” Don Cerzulo dropped his gun and walked back over to the couch.
“Two mill for my time and the supplies and one major supplier. Guarantee I’ll have your investment back to you with interest faster than a hummingbird fuck.” I handed him his drink and took a seat, quickly sipping from mine to calm my jacked-up nerves.
“Gotta sample it. You do half first to make sure you ain’t trying to poison me.”
After the stunt he just pulled I wasn’t about to tell him that we shouldn’t be doing this shit together. But, Don Cerzulo was not the kind of guy you hesitated around when it came to business; it made you look sketchy. I uncapped a vial and lifted it to my nose, inhaling quickly. The powder numbed my nostril, making my eyes water.
“Let me just tell you now, Don, shit hits harder than woodpecker lips, my dude.”
I handed it to Don Cerzulo as the hairs on my head began to pulsate, sending throbbing vibrations down my back that made my eyes feel like they were dancing in my skull.
“We’re gonna need to get a girl up in here, man. Trust me.”
I stuck my head out the door with my body throbbing and I looked G and Fallon up and down. Fallon had scuff marks on his shoes and a ketchup stain on the bottom of his shirt. If he ain’t care about his appearance, who knew what kind of women he’d come back with.
“G, go find me some girls.” I relayed the quick order and popped back into the room, trying to stay as far away from Don Cerzulo as possible. I’d seen dudes do some fucked-up shit to each other inside, all because they touched and had a “it felt good” moment. No, sir, his old ass was not about to have me Brokeback Mountain up in this bitch. I made the mistake of looking in his direction and almost gagged. He was in the chair with his eyes closed, doing some kind of geriatric air humps. Sounding like a drunk gorilla.
The girls came in just in time and Don Cerzulo almost jump
ed out of the chair he was so excited. I busied myself on the other side of the bar, rubbing my junk along the counter with my eyes closed, thinking about Shiree. My phone vibrated in my pocket and the sensation traveled all the way up the back of my neck.
Do I ever ask you when your ass is coming home? No. So don’t ask me.
That was her answer, damn near an hour later, and that’s what she had to say. What the hell had she really been doing?
“Why you over here all by yourself, sexy face?”
I didn’t even argue when she unzipped my jeans, wrapping her pretty lips all around me. And she was a hummer. A song came on downstairs and she got into it humming with the faint music. Even high as hell my conscience was fuckin’ with me. I kept hearing Shiree’s voice; it detracted from the mean sucking and slurping effects this chick was making.
“Yo, ma, you gotta stop.” My words came out in a painful groan.
“Mmmm, Mr. Pretty Dick, does that mean you ready to fuck?”
She still hand my dick in a viselike grip and I gritted my teeth trying to hold back.
“I know you’re not done already. What’s the matter, your girl got wack head?” Don Cerzulo called out from over his shoulder. He had his chick bent over the couch. The chick on her knees in front of me turned to see who the hell was calling her head game wack. In the process of her turning her hair swept across me like a thousand fingers and that combined with her hand sent me over the edge. I exploded with a growl, clutching the counter behind me to keep my balance and she screamed.
“Eeew, you got it in my ear. Really? Arrrgh. It’s in my ear!”
Don Cerzulo hooted, “Wet dream? You need to call it wet pigeon. I ain’t wet pigeoned a broad since grade school. My partner, the wet pigeoner. I likes this kid; meet me here tomorrow, three p.m., two million.”
All I could hear over my heart beating in my ears was Don Cerzulo telling his girl to get up so he could wet pigeon her, and Shiree, yelling.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket I squinted at the bright white letters that said Call in progress 00:6:48 and still counting. I didn’t even bother lifting it up to my ear.
Chapter 17
Tell Me Somethin’ Good
After my night with Devon I woke up practically singing. He seemed like such a good man and he was so easy to get along with. Even though he had no sense when it came to kids, I giggled at that haunted hayride fiasco. He even challenged Trey to an ice cream eating contest when he got off work. I’d have to run interference on that one, because the last thing I’d be doing is playing nurse to two bellyaches. I made his bed and straightened up wondering if I could ever think of it as our bed. It was kind of soon yes but, all these kinds of things made me think about having a real, normal life again. Not always running around scared of everything and everyone. I missed that and there was only one person keeping me from it and it wasn’t Honey. She couldn’t be my boogey-man forever.
Devon had already made breakfast and left for work. That one was still a jaw dropper. He got up and actually cooked real food from scratch, not some microwave heat-up crap. He’d brought me chocolate chip pancakes, turkey bacon, strawberries, and two little people covered from head to toe in flour. All I could see were Lataya’s eyes. I was shocked they didn’t have a fit and come screaming and kicking the door down when they woke up in a new place. Devon asked if they wanted to make Mommy breakfast and they were all in.
He’d called to tell me he rode past Momma’s house and it looked like someone had already put the door back up. Mona or one of Momma’s neighbors must’ve done it, I couldn’t think of anyone else. The kids had enough clothes in the bags I always kept in my car to last for at least a month so I wasn’t too worried about anything we had in the house. After lunch I decided to get the kids dressed and take them to see Momma. I was sure she’d enjoy having Trey there, and she probably secretly missed her “imposter crumb snatcher,” too. She was still in the intensive care unit and giving all the male nurses hell, grabbing their asses and making kissy faces at them. When she wasn’t doing that she was complaining: it was either too cold, or the food ain’t have any flavor, the blanket was scratchy, the lady on the other side of the room sounded like she was getting more channels. It might be good for her to see a few familiar faces. Maybe she’d hurry up and get better.
“You just stick me in here like a potato plant, waiting for me to sprout roots to this bed,” Momma whined pitifully as soon as we walked in.
“Hey, G-ma.” Trey climbed up in her bed, geared up to show her his new iPad. That thing was Devon’s idea not mine. Trey picked it up and Devon told him go for it, saying some mess about extra ones for the hospital. Yeah, well I hope he had an extra, extra one. I could just see it falling and cracking all over one of the many tiled floors in that house or outside on the sidewalk. But, he insisted and it’d been fused to Trey’s hands ever since.
“Hey Grandma, suga’. I could just eat ya all up, nam nam nam.”
She was making chomping noises and he was squealing, but still determined to show off his new present.
“What in the world is this? An i-what?”
I let them have their time and I wandered off to see if I could find Devon.
“No. I can’t come see you. It’s not because of anyone, it’s because I don’t want to. You’ll survive I’m sure. I honestly don’t care what she thinks.”
I found Devon in a corner of the admittance desk having an intensely heated conversation.
I’d started to back away. I didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping.
“Mommy, G-ma gave me money for the smack machine.”
Trey slammed into my leg going a mile a minute about the snack machine? I was pretty sure that’s what he meant. Normally I would have corrected him, but Lataya’s car seat was getting heavy and I just wanted to disappear.
Devon called after me but I just wanted to get outside and get some fresh air. This shit was impossible; these men were damn impossible.
Was that a woman? And why was his ass whispering?
I walked out the front door trying to get my mind together. “We’ll go get candy in a minute okay, Trey?”
I must have looked upset or something because he simply nodded, and he rarely did that. Devon would be out here in a minute and I needed to figure out what I’d say if I should ask anything, how to explain my reaction. It’d only been but a blink, here I was about to make myself look like one of those women who go all insane stalker over some good dick.
It was just a’ight dick anyway. Psssht. Whatever that shit was good.
Not in the mood for thinking I just took some breaths, cleared my mind. I’d read a pamphlet on his kitchen table that suggested you try breathing to alleviate stress, so here I was breathing instead of counting and I still felt stressed. At least counting down from ten kept me from thinking about all the other crazy shit going on in my head. So what if I never made it past eight. I just needed to slow my roll, not define anything; he did tell whoever she was he couldn’t see her so that was a start.
And that’s when I damn near had a real-live on-the-spot panic attack. We locked eyes as she walked past me. I couldn’t believe she was alive even though I hadn’t been sure she was dead to begin with.
“Hi, can’t really talk. I’ve gotta get someone checked in,” Towanna said and quickly walked by, dragging a young girl in handcuffs up the stairs toward the entrance.
The wind blew and I stood there staring at the back of her black windbreaker, slack-jawed and dazed. The girl stared back at me with demented crazy eyes and let out an eerie cackling sound of a laugh. I sighed. I really needed to figure out which pet cemetery or Indian burial ground they were sticking everyone in so I could go bless or whatever the hell you do to destroy those things. What was Towanna even doing in Virginia?
“Momeee, can we go to the smack machine now?” Trey piped up with his perfectly aggravating timing.
I walked back into Momma’s room a complete flustered mess. Devon rushed in afte
r me.
“It’s so nice to see you two together all in love. I’m in love myself, with these murses,” Momma announced with an ecstatic shimmy as she fanned herself peeking around for another nurse to harass. “Is it football season? ’Cause I’ve been watching tight ends all day. Whew, these male nurses running around here with these tight behinds, murses got my love oven getting moist and it ain’t did that since—”
I turned to Devon. “Sweetie, can you please run Trey to the snack machine right quick before he asks again?”
He quickly obliged, happy to not have to hear whatever was about to come out of Momma’s mouth.
“So you’re feeling better, Momma White?” I sat down next to her on the hospital bed, noticing that for once she wasn’t talking about predators, or body snatchers; she was her normal self. The woman I remembered meeting ages ago.
“Oh, I was lyin’ here last night and I remembered so much, it was refreshing and hellishly scary. You ever rode a wild man or a rollercoaster backwards? It was like that.” Momma nodded.
“It was like what, Momma, really?” I gawked at her and started blushing because I’d definitely ridden a wild man backwards, standing too.
“Child, I ever tell you what I did for the first three years after I had Rasheed?”
“No, ma’am. I don’t even think Rah ever mentioned it.”
She patted the pillow beside her. “That’s because he ain’t neva know. Get comfy.”
Chapter 18
Momma’s Maybe
Me and Ray always tried to find a way to see each other despite his parents foolishness. Even with the DNA test proving he was the daddy, his parents made him go through hell to get out the house to see me. One night he was walking me home. Sometimes it was just easier to visit him at work than to try to see him after hours. We heard all this noise. It was like a rusty trombone sounding off against an angry pirate. Hurt your ears something terrible. Frankie Diamonds was laying into some poor girl. He was stomping and beating her; blood was splattering all up against the side of that pretty Cadillac of his. Ray wasn’t going to just stand by and watch something like that.
Baby Momma 3 Page 14