by Jade Jones
All of a sudden, Romeo’s body succumbed to the injuries. His knees buckled beneath him and he fainted right there in the parking lot of his strip club.
19
Desmond pulled off his Gucci scarf and hung it on the coat rack the minute he walked in his home. He was waiting on Apollo’s call like an addict waiting on a high. Cool would not be walking the earth much longer. Desmond wanted to have him handled when he went to prison, but somehow the mothafucka avoided the law. Cool’s time was winding down, slowly but surely.
Desmond sighed, and ran a hand over his soft brush waves once he remembered that he had bigger problems. He was two million dollars short, and a few of the niggas who pulled the lick were still out there.
After kicking off his high top Prada sneakers, Dez headed towards his bedroom. He was just about to walk in when he heard strange sounds coming from inside. Grabbing his pistoli off his waist, he placed his hand on the knob and slowly pushed the door open.
Nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight of Dana and Monica lying stretched out naked across his bed.
Desmond’s dick entered the room before he did. For a second, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
“Took you long enough. We’ve been waiting on you,” Dana smiled. She rubbed the empty spot on the bed beside her. “Come here…”
Desmond stalled for a moment. Fruit was always sweeter when it was forbidden. If I go there with this bitch, he thought. Still, Dez couldn’t deny that she looked delectable lying there fully nude.
Dana spread her legs wide open so he could get an eyeful of her shaved kitty. Next, she opened Monica’s thighs and ran her long, pink tongue across her friend’s fat pussy. Dez’s dick secreted pre-cum like a leaking faucet. They had his shit harder than a bitch.
“You just gon’ stand there and stare…or you gon’ join us?” Dana asked.
Desmond didn’t need a second invitation. He quickly undressed and climbed in bed with them. Positioning himself behind Dana, he pushed her face deep in Monica’s pussy, and slid his dick inside his baby mama raw.
***
“Mommy, are you okay?” Jordan asked in a small voice. He stepped into the living room, wearing his Iron Man PJs. He was looking more and more like Desmond by the day.
The thought of him saddened Kim because she knew she had fucked up. Quickly wiping away her tears, so that her son wouldn’t see her at her worst, she beckoned him over.
“Yes, baby. Did you brush your teeth?”
Jordan nodded his head.
“Well, come gimme a kiss and get ready for bed. It’s late.”
Jordan skipped over and pecked his mom on the cheek before running off to bed. In silence, Kimberlyn sat alone in her living room, lost in thought. She was certain that she was over Dez the last time they’d fallen out, but whenever he was around life felt normal. She felt normal. They were like the family she always envisioned. Truth be told, Kim didn’t want to miss that feeling. She wanted Desmond home, with her. But it was clear he needed his space after today.
Suddenly, there was a knock at Kim’s front door. Maybe Dez came back to talk things out like adults. Quickly standing to her feet, she walked to the door and opened it without looking through the peephole first.
All of the color rushed from Kim’s face when she saw Cool standing there, carrying rope and duct tape.
20
Kimberlyn’s eyes shot open in fear. She knew instantly that Cool was up to no good. Kim quickly went to slam the door, but he barged inside and ran after her. In a desperate attempt to defend herself, she grabbed a vase off the nearby accent table and launched it at him.
Cool ducked his head in just the nick of time. It flew into the wall behind him and shattered.
“Christopher, what the fuck are you doing?!” Kim screamed. “Don’t do this!”
She tried to run, but he snatched her from behind by her ponytail, and viciously slung her to the floor. He then climbed on top, and proceeded to hog-tie her ass.
“Christopher, stop! What are you doing? Get the fuck off me—”
Cool slapped a torn piece of duct tape over her mouth. He wasn’t trying to hear a damn thing she had to say. He was tired of talking. Fucked up off crack cocaine and PCP, he was hell-bent on proving that there was no such thing as walking away from him.
“Get off my mommy! Get off my mommy!” Jordan screamed. His tiny fists pounded on Cool’s back as he tried to make him stop.
Cool unsympathetically slapped the shit out of the child.
Jordan fell backwards and hit his head against the hardwood floors.
Kim let out a high-pitched muffled scream. She wanted to murder Cool but he had her hands and legs tied together like a fucking animal.
“Bitch, you done turned Jordan against me? Got that pussy nigga raisin’ him to hate my mufuckin’ ass! Is that what the fuck you on?” he lashed out. Cool stood and looked down and Kim and Jordan cowering in fear. He saw the hatred all in the boy’s light brown eyes. And it was then that he noticed, for the first time, Jordan looked nothing like him. He wasn’t his seed—just the offspring of Kim’s whorish ways.
Fuck him then, Cool figured. As far as he was concerned the little nigga could rot with his punk ass daddy. Cool had what he’d come for. Picking Kimberlyn up, he tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her out the house.
Kim’s throat burned from the hoarse screams that fought to escape. She prayed someone came to her rescue, but sadly no one did.
When Cool reached his car, he popped the trunk and tossed Kimberlyn inside. Her head smacked the car axle, creating a gash near her temple. Blood seeped into her eyes, briefly blurring her vision. In the midst of Kim’s struggle, the duct tape fell off her mouth.
“PLEASE, STOP! Somebody help me!”
“Shut the fuck up!” he barked.
Tears poured down her cheeks. Kimberlyn was all too familiar with Cool’s temper, so she knew tonight wouldn’t end well. Unfortunately, she had underestimated what her ex-fiancée was capable of.
“Why are you doing this, Cool?” she cried. “It’s me!”
“Cuz you my bitch! And it ain’t over ‘til the fuck I say it’s over!”
“SOMEBODY HEL—”
Kim’s screams were muffled after Cool slammed the trunk close. Jordan quickly ran to his bedroom and hid in the closet. The man he’d known all his life as his father hopped in the car, started the engine, and peeled off.
21
Cool pulled his car into the dirty parking lot of a cheap hotel in the hood. It was where he’d been laying low for the time being. There was all different type of suspicious-looking people hanging out in the front. Some of them sold weed and pills, some of them were addicts, and the rest just needed a place to hide out from the law.
After killing the engine, Cool hopped out, and rounded the car. Kim hadn’t stopped thumping around since he tossed her inside. Popping the trunk, he grabbed his girl and tossed her over his shoulder. A few of the fellas standing outside noticed, but none of them made a move to help. As foul as it was, they didn’t want to involve themselves in someone else’s drama.
Once he opened the door to his room, the musty stench of old furniture slapped her in the face. Cool heartlessly tossed Kim on the floor, where she smacked her head. The blood had dried on her skin, but she doubted he would voluntarily clean her up.
Kimberlyn broke out crying as she lay on the pissy-smelling carpet. She was more concerned for her son than she was herself. Jordan couldn’t handle being alone. At least, Kim could handle Cool…or so she thought.
Leaning down, he snatched the duct tape off her mouth. Kim cringed in pain. He damn near snatched the skin off with it.
“Cool, why the fuck are you doing this? You acting like you don’t even know me! Like you’ve never loved me! This is inhumane!”
“Bitch, I gave you mufuckin’ habits. Put’cho ass in a brand new house. Had you living good. Wearin’ red bottoms and shit like they was mufuckin’ Pumas. And how the
fuck you thank me? By fuckin’ with some lame while I was incarcerated. Bitch, you ain’t loyal. You ain’t loyal at all. I should make yo’ triflin’ ass lick the fuckin’ dirt off the bottom of my kicks.”
Cool showed the ultimate disrespect by placing his filthy sole on her cheek.
“Get your fucking foot off me, bitch!” Kim screamed. She wiggled and writhed beneath him to make him stop. It was pointless considering her hands and feet were tied.
Cool bent down and slapped Kimberlyn so hard she saw double. “You talk too fuckin’ much. And you do even more.” He ruthlessly tore her dress apart with his bare hands. Kim begged and pleaded for him to stop, but he wouldn’t.
“Cool, stop! It’s me!” she said repeatedly. “It’s me! Why are you doing this shit?”
Wrapping a hand around her throat, he snatched off her panties, freed himself, and rammed his dick deep inside her dry walls.
Kimberlyn howled in pain, and he quickly slapped the duct tape back over her mouth. Usually, Cool could go all night, but he nutted inside her pussy within two minutes.
It was the longest, most excruciating two minutes of Kimberlyn’s life. After handling his business, he stood up, fixed his jeans and walked over to the nightstand where a small mountain of coke awaited him.
Kimberlyn was left on the dirty carpet, hog-tied and crying with a stomach full of semen. Things couldn’t have been any worse.
Cool snorted two lines up his narrow nostrils before looking over at Kim in disgust. “Shut that shit up. You givin’ me a fuckin’ headache,” he said. When she wouldn’t stop, he grabbed the silver saucer, walked over to her, and forced her nose in the white powder. Cool figured the drugs would help her calm down.
Kim shook her head violently as she fought to the best of her ability. But the more she protested, the more he shoved in her system. Cool had no chill, and if he didn’t stop he would cause her to OD.
“Stop fightin’ the shit,” he told her. “The sooner you accept it, the easier it’ll be.”
Kim had a feeling that he was referring to them and not the drugs.
“You my bitch, K. When I move, you move. Even if I have to make you…Yo’ ass is mine.” Cool placed a delicate kiss on her forehead and stood to his feet.
Kim’s nose burned like hell, and she felt extremely lightheaded. Her heart started hammering rapidly in her chest, but it could’ve been due to panic. Kimberlyn had never done cocaine before.
“I love you, K. And I know you prolly hate my mufuckin’ guts right now, but give it time. I’mma make you love me like you used to…” With that said, Cool disappeared inside the bathroom and started the shower.
Kimberlyn was left hog-tied on the carpet in a collection of his cum. Blood and dirt covered her face. She looked like shit, but slowly, she began to experience that unfamiliar feeling of euphoria.
No more than three minutes later, it quickly turned to nausea. Suddenly, Kimberlyn heaved in her own mouth. Because Cool had her shit covered in duct tape, she wasn’t able to expel it. Kim coughed and gagged dramatically as more bile shot up her throat. Her eyes bulged in their sockets, tearing up from the pressure. Right there in the middle of the floor, she choked on her vomit. If she didn’t get the tape off her lips soon, she would undoubtedly drown in her own waste.
22
Just when Kimberlyn thought the end was near, Cool snatched the tape off her mouth. The contents inside spewed out onto the floor. After regurgitating her breakfast, she coughed and wheezed for air.
“You sick mothafucka. I’mma kill y—”
Cool quickly slapped the duct tape back over her lips. “Careful now, bitch. Can’t have you dyin’ on a nigga.” He laughed wickedly, and Kim wished like hell she could spit in his face.
Shouting out all sorts of muffled obscenities, she watched as he disappeared back inside the bathroom. As soon as he closed the door, she looked around frantically for something she could use to escape.
Bingo!
Kimberlyn noticed the rickety wooden chair at the desk. She figured she could use one of its legs to undo the rope around her feet. Wiggling her way over towards it, she prayed that Cool’s shower lasted long.
The minute she reached it, she threw her body at the chair, knocking it over immediately. Kim’s heart dropped in her stomach because she just knew Cool would come out…but he didn’t.
Kimberlyn quickly continued with the task at hand. She had to act fast if she wanted to get away undetected. Using one of the back legs on the chair, she maneuvered it between her feet, and struggled to pull the rope free. After several unsuccessful attempts, the rope finally gave way.
Kimberlyn didn’t give a fuck about her hands. She could worry about that later. Jumping to her feet, she quickly pulled the rope off. She was just about to leave when she noticed the documents sitting on his desk.
Cool had paid someone to make him and Kim passports. His psychotic ass planned on taking her out the country with him. Kimberlyn then noticed the suitcase of money beside the desk. Inside was the cash he’d stolen from Desmond when he robbed him back at the warehouse.
This mothafucka needs help. Psychological help, Kim thought.
All of a sudden, the bathroom door swung open. Cool wasn’t pleased with what he saw. Kimberlyn looked like a deer caught in headlights as she stood several feet away.
“Fuck you think you doin’?” he asked.
Without warning, she took off running towards the door. Cool quickly chased after her. Kim barely had time to grab the doorknob. Snatching her by the ponytail, he slammed Kim’s face into the door, instantly knocking her unconscious.
***
A blinding white light was the first thing Romeo saw when he cracked an eye open the very next morning. His left was still swollen shut, so he’d only be able to use one eye for a few days.
For a moment, Romeo thought he’d died and gone to heaven—especially when he saw the silhouette of a beautiful angel appear. “Shayla…?” he forced through dry, puffy lips. Reaching out his bandaged arm, he lightly ran his fingertips along her cheek. Her skin was smooth like satin.
I never wanna lose her again, he told himself.
Suddenly, Romeo’s blurred vision fused into a clearer image. The woman standing before him wasn’t his beloved wife.
“Sorry,” Maya said. “Wrong girl.” She smiled, showing off her cute set of dimples. She was Romeo’s longtime business associate, and sometimes his friend with benefits. Maya was a gorgeous caramel-colored vixen with high cheekbones and delicate features. She looked a lot like the singer, Ciara and was similarly slender in frame.
“Where am I?” he said weakly.
“In a hospital.” Desmond walked up. He’d gotten the call that morning. It seemed like if it wasn’t one thing it was another. “What the fuck happened, bruh?”
Dez and a few of their business associates stood in the room, waiting on pins and needles for a response. Romeo wanted to handle that nigga Quay himself so he didn’t answer right away.
“Wus good? Who the fuck we gotta lay down?” Apollo pressed.
“Is the nigga connected to the car explosion?” Desmond asked.
Romeo swallowed the dry lump that formed in his throat. “I doubt it...”
“It was them mufuckin’ Felons,” Apollo said. He took the words right out Romeo’s mouth, since he knew what it was. “I’d put money on that shit.”
Desmond looked from Apollo to Romeo. The questioning glare he gave his friend demanded confirmation.
“It wasn’t,” Romeo lied. He wanted to put a hollow point in Quay himself; so if he had to lie to his family, then so be it. Quay had disrespected him one too many times. The shit was personal, and Romeo had to get at him on a one-on-one.
“I got jumped by one of the dancer’s boyfriends. We had a few words inside the club, then when I walked out, the niggas caught me off guard.”
Maya shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I always knew your dick would land you in some sort of trouble.”
Romeo cracked a smile and reached for Maya’s hand. “I wish my dick would land in you.”
She quickly pulled her hand away and laughed. “They didn’t knock him on his damn head hard enough,” she teased. Maya wasn’t fucking with Romeo. Anytime she invested too much time or emotions in him, she ended up with her feelings hurt. Romeo wasn’t the type of man you fell in love with. He was the type you guarded your heart from.
Desmond bit his tongue. He had a bunch of shit he wanted to say, but he decided to save it for later. Romeo was telling him one thing, but Dez had a feeling his nigga was hiding something else.
***
“Damn. This nigga J.R. don’t ever be answerin’ his shit.” Quay had been blowing his homie up, but it always rang before going straight to voicemail. He didn’t know that J.R. had been murdered a few days earlier. Because of his bad meth addiction, Quay chalked his absence to binging.
As soon as he saw Shayla walk out of her home, Quay hung up his phone. He was leaned casually against his Mustang while waiting for her to come out. The sun was just beginning to set.
Shayla looked beautiful that day in a blush-colored camisole and nude mid skirt. On her feet was a pair of beige Gianvito Rossi heels. Quay’s gaze started at her pedicured toes, and traveled the length of her shapely legs. The outfit hugged every curve on her body just right. Her hair was pinned up in a messy high top bun; her baby hairs framed her cherubic face perfectly.
She don’t know it yet, but her mufuckin’ ass is as good as mine, he thought.
Yesterday Quay had jumped her husband. To add insult to injury, he planned to take her out the very next day. Judging from her grace and poise, she had no idea that Romeo had almost been killed. No one even bothered calling her, and Quay definitely wasn’t going to mention it.