by Jade Jones
Liberty self-consciously covered her belly. Apollo pushed it away and grabbed a handful of her soft tummy. “Stop doin’ that shit. This mufucka mine. All of it.”
Caught in the moment, neither was aware of the vengeful ex lurking inside of the house, carrying a loaded gun.
16
Liberty quickly jumped up in bed at the sight of Trip standing in her doorway. She had Apollo’s gun aimed directly at them. The crazy ass bitch had the nerve to have tears in her eyes.
“So you fuckin’ this nigga?” she cried. “I gave you three years of my life, bitch! How the fuck could you leave me for some weak ass dick? We supposed to be in love!” All of her unchecked aggression poured out, leaving her homicidal.
“Trip, put the gun down! You talking crazy! What the fuck is you even doing?”
“Is this what you left me for, bitch? Huh? Some mothafucking dick?”
“Trip, you know that’s not why I left.”
Apollo sighed in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. Damn, this bitch just fucked up my nut.
“Bullshit!”
“You got your shit back! Why are you even here?” Liberty screamed.
“’Cuz she want her ass beat,” Apollo interjected. Although he didn’t believe in hitting women, Trip was definitely asking for it. A man could only take so much.
“That’ll be the day, huh?” Trip laughed. Apart from being a total nutcase, she was actually a pretty girl. Tall, light-skinned, and brawny in frame she looked a lot like WNBA player Brittney Griner, down to the black and gold dreads.
“Why do you insist on tormenting me? Go terrorize those bitches you were constantly cheating on me with!”
“I don’t want no fucking body else! I want what the fuck I had!” Trip yelled.
“Well, that ain’t happenin’,” Apollo told her. “Look, play time is fuckin’ over, man. Put the gun down, lil’ girl, ‘fore you hurt some damn body.” He didn’t seem the least bit frightened by an armed, angry woman. He’d conquered worst things in his twenty-six years.
“Don’t patronize me, mothafucka! I could think of three good reasons to kill yo’ ass.”
Apollo looked down at his flaccid penis. He certainly knew one of the reasons. “Man, chill with all that pussy ass shit. Ain’t no sense in pointin’ the mufucka if you ain’t gon’ squeeze.”
“You know what? I’m tired of fuckin’ hearing you talk!” Trip went to pull the trigger but nothing happened. Confused, she looked down at the gun to see why it had jammed.
“The safety’s on, dummy,” Apollo told her.
Trip went to turn it off, and he leapt off the bed, and charged at her full-speed. Swooping her up, he slammed Trip hard on her head, leaving her dazed. If the bitch wanted to act like a man she could get treated like one.
Snatching the gun off the floor, he placed the loaded weapon to the crown of her head. Trip’s head spun after he slammed her, and it took a moment for her to recuperate. When she finally sat up, her face was eye-level with his crotch. Apollo was still fully naked, so she had no choice but to look at his glossy, cream-coated dick as he kept the gun to her head.
“Stupid bitch, now I should put lead in yo’ dumb ass! I ain’t got time for this messy, silly ass shit!” Apollo barked. I should make this dyke bitch suck my dick, he thought angrily.
Trip didn’t back down, even with a gun to her skull. “Fuck you!”
Apollo cocked the loaded weapon. He was two seconds away from pulling the trigger.
“No! Apollo, don’t!” Liberty quickly said. She had the sheets wrapped tightly around her bosom as she watched from the bed. As much as she would’ve enjoyed a swift vengeance, she didn’t want Trip’s blood on her—or Apollo’s hands. “She ain’t fucking worth it.”
Apollo’s trigger finger was itchy. If it weren’t for Liberty’s humbleness he would’ve gladly emptied the clip in her stupid ass. “Tonight’s yo lucky mufuckin’ night,” he told her. Apollo could’ve called the police and had her crazy ass arrested on the spot, but that wasn’t his steelo. “Bitch, you got less than ten seconds to get the fuck on or else I’m squeezin’. And you can trust I won’t miss.”
Trip didn’t even need five as she scurried to her feet in haste. “Pussy nigga, you ain’t seen the last of my mothafucking ass,” she said on her way out the room. “You can believe that shit.” Trip had plans to fuck up his entire existence.
***
Desmond pulled up with his young shooter in tow. It should’ve been Apollo, but the nigga wasn’t answering his phone since he was laid up with Liberty. Even though Dez just planned on taking Kim and Jordan to dinner and a movie, he knew better than to move solo. Someone was out to get him, and he couldn’t risk migrating alone.
Climbing out the car, Desmond casually made his way to Kim’s front door. She answered immediately after his first set of knocks. She was putting a pair of gold hoop earrings in her ear.
“Yo’ ass ain’t ready yet, girl. I told you I was on my way an hour ago.”
“You know how women are,” she laughed.
“Where’s my lil’ man?”
“Waiting in the living room.”
As Kim turned and walked away, Desmond’s eyes drifted to her fatty. That mothafucka was sitting right in an emerald green dress and nude Louboutins. As he admired his girl’s shapely backside, his gaze shifted to the gold chain sitting on the hallway accent table.
Desmond did an automatic double take when he realized the shit wasn’t his. “Hol’ up, K. Fuck is this?” he asked, picking up the piece of jewelry.
When Kimberlyn turned around and saw him holding Cool’s chain her heart stopped. She stood there, frozen in place with a look of guilt. How the hell did I leave that shit out in plain sight, she wondered.
Kim clearly recalled putting it there until she figured out what to do with it. When Shayla called earlier with her bullshit, she had completely forgotten about it.
“Whose chain is this?” Desmond asked again. His nostrils flared as he impatiently waited on a respond. “Don’t just stand there lookin’ stupid, answer me!” he demanded.
“Cool’s. It’s Cool’s chain,” she said calmly.
“Why the fuck is it in yo’ crib?” was his next question.
“I—um…I took it out ‘cuz I thought about pawning it,” she lied.
Desmond ruthlessly snatched her up by her throat. “Lemme tell you somethin’, bitch! I didn’t get to the mufuckin’ top playin’ nobody’s fool! Don’t fuckin’ lie to me! I’mma ask ya ass again…Why’s this nigga’s shit in yo’ crib?”
Kimberlyn could hardly breathe as Desmond choked the life out of her. Once again, she’d allowed Cool to catch her slipping, and now she was paying for it dearly. “Because he was here,” she struggled to say.
Desmond’s grip around her neck tightened, his fingernails digging deep into her flesh. Kim’s eyes bulged in their sockets as he applied more pressure.
“When?” he asked, through tight lips.
“Today! Please, Desmond…I can’t breathe!” she wheezed.
Desmond tossed her to the floor like a ragdoll, where she fell against the accent table. The porcelain decorative on top of it fell over and shattered. A tiny piece nicked her hand but she hardly noticed. Kimberlyn barely recognized Desmond when he was angry.
“How the fuck could you keep this shit from me? What else you been doin’? Fuckin’ the nigga behind my back?”
Kimberlyn’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She hadn’t had sex with Cool, but she did let him eat the box, which was just as bad.
Kim’s expression said it all, and Desmond became even angrier. Fuming with rage, he sent his fist crashing into a nearby wall.
“Desmond, I was gonna tell you—”
“When?!” he shouted. “Before or after my fuckin’ funeral?”
Kimberlyn looked confused. He’d never told her about the car explosion.
“Did you know that nigga put a bomb under my fuckin’ whip?” Desmond asked. “I co
uld’ve had my daughter, you, or Jordan with me. That mufucka could’ve killed us! And you let this sorry ass nigga in yo’ home? The same fuckin’ home you ain’t ‘een want me to have the address to a few months ago! I tried to make reality easy for yo’ ungrateful ass, and this the fuckin’ thanks I get? Man, I feel like I don’t ‘een know yo’ ass!”
“Desmond, I’m sorry—”
“Fuck you and that apology.”
“What bomb are you talking about? Why didn’t you tell me? I…I…” Kim’s voice trailed off once she realized she didn’t have anything else to say.
Shaking his head, Desmond backpedaled away from her. He had to put as much space between them as possible, because if not he was seriously prone to hurt her.
“Dez, wait—”
“I’m out, K. I can’t ‘een stand the sight of yo’ triflin’ ass right now.” Desmond walked out of her house angrily, and headed to his car. As soon as he climbed inside, he pulled out his iPhone. He’d always been a hands-on nigga. He believed that if you wanted something done right, then you had to do it yourself.
“Everything cool, boss?” his young shooter asked.
Desmond held his hand up to signal silence. Right now he couldn’t help him. There was only cat he trusted enough to handle the task he was giving.
“Wus good?” Apollo answered his phone in a muffled tone. “Aye, yo my fault about earlier. I…uh…got caught up.”
Liberty’s arm was draped over his chest while she slept peacefully beside him. Apollo tried to talk in a hush tone so that she wouldn’t hear his conversation. She didn’t need to know how he earned a living…at least not now.
“Christopher Cool Williams,” Desmond said. “I don’t give a fuck what it takes. Find that pussy nigga and handle him. I want it done right.”
Liberty stirred softly but didn’t wake. Now Apollo had four niggas on his hit list, and it seemed like it’d only get longer.
“Aight,” he agreed. “You got it, fam.”
Desmond disconnected the call and started the car. These bitch ass niggas know they need to be stopped. He couldn’t wait until Apollo hit him back letting him know the job was done. Cool had been a nuisance for far too long. Now it was finally time to put that mothafucka down permanently.
17
Liberty slowly sat up in bed after reaching over to an empty spot. When she looked up she saw Apollo pulling on his jeans. “What time is it?”
“Lil’ after ten. We didn’t sleep long.”
“You leaving?” she asked, trying to mask her disappointment. She wasn’t used to the whole ‘sex then split’ thing.
“Got some business I need to handle.”
“Work?”
“Somethin’ like that,” he said nonchalantly.
Liberty didn’t understand why his mood had changed so quickly. One minute he was all over her, and the next minute giving her the cold shoulder. She would never get it. A nigga like him had no choice but to turn his emotions on and off.
“Well, am I gonna see you soon?”
“Depends…”
Liberty looked offended. “On what?” she asked with an attitude. Now Apollo was just being a straight up asshole.
“On how soon I finish my work.”
“What do you do?”
Apollo took a seat on the edge of her bed and slid on his wheat Timberlands. “You ask a lot of questions. Didn’t I just tell you that shit earlier?”
Liberty couldn’t tell from his tone if he was irritated or not. She didn’t expect his body to tense up either when she reached out and touched him. “Is everything okay? Is there something I should know?”
“Yeah…” Apollo stood to his feet and headed towards the door. “I don’t like to share, and I gotta mean fuckin’ temper. Tell that bitch I said that next time you see her ass.”
***
“Word on the street is you’re back on the market.” Serenity gave Romeo a sexy gap-toothed grin after plopping in his lap. He’d once again made a habit out of spending his nights at his privately owned strip club.
Serenity—along with a few other girls—had been trying to fuck the kid since he gave her employment. A young heartthrob with a check, Romeo had the hoes going crazy.
“Word in the street or word in the club?” he asked. Serenity wasn’t slick. He knew the bitches that stripped there gossiped about his relationship like they were TMZ. They’d been waiting for Shayla to disappear like Jimmy Hoffa.
Romeo gave her fat ass a firm squeeze. Her shit was big enough to serve supper on. Since Shayla wanted to choose a square over a thoroughbred, he figured it was time to go back to his hedonistic ways.
“Does it matter which one? All that’s important is you’re fair game.”
Romeo smiled, revealing the cutest set of dimples. He was a pretty boy, but a curse to every father’s daughter he laid with. Most females weren’t suited to deal with a complicated individual like him. “I ain’t shit,” he told her. “You fall in love with me, I’mma fuck ya life up.”
Serenity grinned. “I’ll take my chances,” she said, squeezing on his dick.
Romeo didn’t want to waste any more time bullshitting. Shayla was the last woman he’d been with, but she wouldn’t have believed him if he told her. “Let’s get up out here. Go get dressed.”
“Should I leave my car here or—”
“You riding with me.”
Serenity smiled like she’d just hit the lottery. In her mind, she did. After running to the dressing room and bragging about how she was going home with the boss, Serenity reemerged fully clothed. Romeo didn’t know if he liked her better in her skimpy little lingerie or the jeans that looked painted on. Either way, he planned on having a field day with that fat ass.
Serenity looked back as they walked through the parking lot. “You staring like you ready to get something started now.”
Romeo slapped her booty like a pimp to his prostitute. “Shut up and catch,” he said, tossing her his keys.
Serenity squealed as they walked up on his 2015 candy red Ferrari. “So you gon’ let me drive?”
Romeo approached the passenger’s door. “Yup. I’mma let’chu ride too…” he flirted.
Serenity looked over in his direction at the same time a dark figure crept up from behind. Her expression immediately turned from excitement to fear. All of a sudden, a metal pipe came crashing down on Romeo’s head.
18
Serenity screamed and Nick bashed her in the mouth with the butt of his pistol. Two of her front teeth flew out her grill and landed on the pavement. He didn’t spend much time or energy on her as he helped Quay jump Romeo.
Covering her busted up mouth, Serenity ran like a track star in her heels, leaving Romeo to fend for himself. She didn’t even care that she’d dropped her Chanel purse. All that mattered was saving her ass.
“Fuck nigga, you thought I forgot about yo’ bitch ass?” Quay yelled. He brutally stomped and kicked a semi-conscious Romeo. Blood leaked from the gash on the back of his head. He just knew he was going to die that night, all because he let some mothafuckas catch him slipping.
Quay rotated between beating him with the metal pipe and stomping him. It was a ferocious kick to the head that knocked Romeo out for five seconds. When he finally came to, they were still kicking and stomping him.
Romeo’s blood smeared across the soles of their Timberlands. He could feel his ribs crack from the force of their deadly assault. A bullet was just too quick and easy. They wanted to make his arrogant ass suffer.
Nick smashed his foot down on Romeo’s hand so hard that he broke the bone. When Quay finally tired himself out from stomping him, he climbed on top of Romeo and punched him over and over with brass knuckles.
Quay wanted to beat the life out of Romeo. After today, he would know that the Heartless Felons were not to be fucked with.
All of a sudden, Nick ceased his assault. “Aye, she don’t want us to kill this mufucka,” he reminded Quay.
“Fuck that bitch.
I ain’t ever been good at takin’ orders no way.”
Quay continued to punch Romeo repeatedly. By then, he couldn’t even move. His face had swelled and numbed to the painful blows. He was hardly recognizable. Romeo was ready for them to just kill him and get it over with.
Quay grabbed Romeo by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close. “That pretty, pink pussy mine now,” he bragged.
Quay tossed him on the ground, stood to his feet, and grabbed the burner tucked on his waist. Nick looked from him to Romeo in suspense.
Wiping the sweat off his brow, Quay aimed his gun down at the badly beaten man. His index finger rested on the trigger. Romeo would never forget his icy stare. There was pure hatred in Quay’s eyes. He despised the mothafucka. After Romeo’s funeral, he planned on being the shoulder Shayla needed to cry on.
Quay was just about to squeeze but the sudden sound of police sirens stopped him.
Quay and Nick figured someone must’ve called the boys.
“C’mon, we gotta get the fuck up outta here!” Nick said, taking off.
Quay looked torn. He wanted to blow a hole through Romeo’s head, but fate was undoubtedly on his side. Putting away his heat, he stomped Romeo in the stomach one more time and ran off.
The sound of the police sirens increased as a cruiser raced down the street. Romeo cringed in pain on the ground. He couldn’t believe the one thing he hated the most had saved his life.
He assumed the cops were coming for him, but they continued to speed on by. They were actually on their way to handle a totally different incident.
Luckily, Quay and Nick didn’t return.
Romeo’s entire body was on fire. He’d never experienced a more excruciating pain in his twenty-six years. It felt like someone had injected his face and chest with Lidocaine. Death may’ve been an easier, more tolerable option.
Struggling to his feet, Romeo spit out a mouthful of blood, and limped towards his club to get help. He caught a reflection of himself in the window of a parked Lexus. He almost didn’t recognize the man staring back at him. Romeo’s entire face was puffy; his eyes had swelled to the size of grapefruits. His lips looked like two Vienna sausages split open. Quay and Nick had really worked him over.