by K'wan
Li’l Monk frowned. “You know good and well that I don’t treat you like shit.”
“No, you do treat me really nice when you’re not being an insensitive asshole. I swear, sometimes you make me feel like my sister. She’s thirty-five, been the bridesmaid at four weddings and doesn’t even have a boyfriend, let alone a husband.”
“Whoa, slow up with all that marriage talk, ma. We’re still trying to figure out dating versus friendship,” Li’l Monk said. He meant it as a joke, but Sophie didn’t laugh.
“Don’t be a dick; nobody is trying to march you down the aisle. I’m not talking about marriage. I’m talking about feeling wanted, and knowing that somebody only has eyes for you. Li’l Monk, sometimes being with you fills every void in my life, then you pull away and I feel empty again. That shit is like being on an emotional rollercoaster.”
Li’l Monk could hear the pain in her voice. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I don’t mean to make you feel bad.”
“And that’s the thing, you’re not even conscious of what you’re doing so I can’t get mad at you. You just don’t get it.” She shook her head.
Li’l Monk sighed. “What do you want from me, Sophie?”
“I don’t want anything that you’re not willing to give me freely,” she replied. “Li’l Monk, I know you feel like you’ve got too much going on in your life to have a girlfriend and I respect that, but it wouldn’t kill you to sometimes let me know that I’m more than just a fuck-buddy.”
Before the conversation could progress, Omega and Tasha returned from the dance floor. Both of them were sweating and breathing heavily.
“Your boy has got some skills,” Tasha told Li’l Monk of Omega.
“I told you that I knew how to move, but you had to see for yourself, which is why I had to take you out there and burn you right quick,” Omega capped.
“You didn’t burn shit; I was just getting warmed up. Let me go piss out some of this liquor and we can go for another round. Sophie, come with me to the bathroom.”
“Sure, since there’s nothing going on over here.” Sophie rolled her eyes at Li’l Monk. She grabbed her purse off the bar and went to the bathroom with her friend.
“What’s good with you and shorty?” Omega asked after the girls had gone.
Li’l Monk shrugged. “Sophie is just tripping right now. She’ll be over it in a little while.”
“She’s tripping because she’s trying to get you to wife her and you’re acting like you don’t know what time it is,” Omega clued him in. “Sophie is fine as a muthafucka and from what I can tell she’s cool as hell. Why is it again that you don’t wanna snatch that sexy muthafucka up?”
“Now you gonna start in with that shit?” Li’l Monk asked with an attitude.
“No need to get an attitude with me, I’m just asking. From what Tasha was telling me you and Sophie have history.”
“That fucking Tasha is always volunteering information. She needs to mind her business,” Li’l Monk said angrily.
“Calm your ass down, man. Come on, let’s get you a drink.” Omega tapped on the bar and ordered two Hennessy sours.
The two men leaned against the bar, sipping their drinks and watching the crowd while waiting for their ladies. Near the VIP section there seemed to be some kind of commotion going on, so they decided to go over and be nosey. There were two girls, one black and one white, dancing on the table and making out while the crowd cheered them on. Those standing close enough slapped the girls on the asses and urged them to take their clothes off. People had even started gathering around the VIP area and snapping pictures of the show. Li’l Monk was about to go back to the bar when the light caught the black girl’s face.
“Persia?” Li’l Monk gasped.
“Oh, shit, you know them chicks?” Omega asked excitedly.
“I know one of them,” Li’l Monk said. From the spaced-out look in her eyes, he knew she was blasted and not in her right frame of mind. He watched in shock and disgust while Persia danced on the table and allowed herself to be groped by strange hands. Li’l Monk wanted to kill every man in the club at that point, but for what? He had no claim to Persia, and what she did or didn’t do shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did.
“Whoever them broads are, you can bet your ass them rapper niggas are gonna be running the D-train on them before the night is over,” Omega said.
“Not on my watch,” Li’l Monk grumbled and stormed in the direction of the VIP.
Security was so busy watching the show Persia and Marty were putting on that they didn’t even notice when Li’l Monk slipped under the gold rope and invaded the VIP section.
“Persia, what the fuck are you doing?” Li’l Monk approached the table.
Pain stepped between them and placed his hand on Li’l Monk’s chest. “Hold on, who the fuck are you?”
Li’l Monk looked down at his hand. “I’m the nigga who is gonna break that greasy-ass hand of yours if you don’t get it off me.”
“Hey, Li’l Monk.” Persia waved down at him from her perch on the tabletop.
“Persia, you know this dude?” Pain asked over his shoulder.
“Sure, we’ve known each other since we were kids. Isn’t that right, Li’l Monk?” Her words were slurred.
“Persia, you need to come down off that table,” Li’l Monk told her.
“For what? I’m just having a little fun.”
“You’re playing yourself; now come down off that table before I come up there and get you,” Li’l Monk warned.
“Sorry, I don’t think there’s enough room up here for all three of us,” Marty said. She too was faded.
Li’l Monk ignored her and kept trying to coax Persia off the table. “Persia, you are making a damn fool of yourself. Now bring your ass down from there.”
“Why don’t you chill, my nigga. The ladies are good,” Lex told him.
“I wasn’t talking to you, shorty,” Li’l Monk snapped.
“Pay Li’l Monk no mind, he thinks he’s my bodyguard. He’s been following me around trying to keep me out of trouble since we were five years old and as you can see, he hasn’t done a very good job of it.” Persia giggled. “Did you guys know that our dads used to be best friends? They sold crack and killed people together.”
“Persia, you’re twisted and talking out of your ass right now. You need to come down and get your shit so I can take you home,” Li’l Monk said, trying his best not to lose his cool.
“Persia isn’t going anywhere, but you need to walk your ass out of here before you get carried out,” Pain threatened. Li’l Monk ignored the threat, and tried to step around Pain to pull Persia down. When he did, Pain grabbed him by the shirt and paid for his offense.
Li’l Monk’s fist sounded like a slab of meat being dropped on the floor when it connected with Pain’s jaw. Pain blinked twice, as if he was trying to figure out what had just happened, before falling into the chair behind him. Lex tried to creep up behind Li’l Monk, when Omega popped up seemingly from out of thin air and broke a beer bottle over his head. It took several minutes for security to separate the warring parties and snatch the girls off the table, but by then the damage was already done. The DJ had stopped spinning the music and the house lights came on.
“What the hell is going on here?” Tone asked, pushing his way through the crowd. Chucky was close behind him.
“Sorry, Tone. These two troublemakers slipped past us,” one of the bouncers said apologetically.
“Well, well, well, if it ain’t the newest pups in the litter,” Chucky said, seeing Li’l Monk and Omega being held back by security.
“You know these two?” Tone asked.
“Yeah, they work for me . . . Correction, they work for Ramses now,” Chucky said scornfully. “What’s this shit all about?” he asked Li’l Monk and Omega.
“This ain’t got nothing to do with you, Chucky. I was just trying to make sure that my friend got home okay, and these cats tried to form on me,” Li’l Monk explaine
d.
“Which friend would that be? You mean this friend?” Chucky pulled Persia from the group. Her eyes were glassy and she looked like she was having trouble standing up. “Now what would make you think anything riding with me needs anything from your slum ass?”
Li’l Monk blinked in confusion. “Persia, you came here with this nigga?”
“Yeah, my boo Chucky is showing us a good time.” Persia draped her arms around Chucky’s neck.
“That’s right, Persia is in good hands.” Chucky ran his hand up her skirt and palmed Persia’s ass for emphasis. “So why don’t you take your ass back to the block where you belong, before I take my belt off and discipline you for being a disobedient dog.”
The remark got a laugh from everyone standing close enough to hear it. Li’l Monk’s eyes narrowed to slits, and his jaw clenched.
“You standing there grilling me like you wanna do something.” Chucky moved his jacket so that Li’l Monk could see the gun tucked in his pants. “Ain’t no police here to save you now. You got some frog in you? Nigga, jump!”
Li’l Monk reached for his gun, but Omega stopped him by throwing him in a bear hug. “Not here and not like this,” he whispered in his friend’s ear. If he had let Li’l Monk draw on Chucky, right or wrong he knew both of them would be dead when word got back to Ramses, if Chucky didn’t kill them first. Reluctantly, Li’l Monk allowed Omega to pull him away.
“That’s the last time you’re gonna front on me, Chucky,” Li’l Monk promised as he backed away.
“That’s right, run along, little boys. Hurry on back to the block and see if Ramses has got something for you to do. I’m sure there’s an old lady somewhere who needs her purse snatched,” Chucky taunted them.
When Li’l Monk turned around the first face he saw was Sophie’s. “I saw what happened. Are you okay?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it; let’s just go.” Li’l Monk took her by the hand and pulled her along toward the door.
Li’l Monk didn’t say much during the cab ride back to Harlem. To say that he was mad would’ve been an understatement; he was feeling murderous. Between Persia acting a fool, and Chucky violating him in a club full of people, he was ready to hurt something. Chucky had come at him sideways for the last time and as far as Li’l Monk was concerned. He was living on borrowed time. He would play nice for now, but as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he was going to either kill Chucky or put him in the hospital for a very long time. The trick was doing it without finding himself suffering a similar fate at the hands of Ramses. Chucky was a piece of shit who deserved everything Li’l Monk was scheming on giving him, but he was still Ramses’s right hand. He knew that if he truly wanted to be rid of Chucky, he would have to prove himself more valuable than his nemesis in Pharaoh’s army.
When the taxi pulled up in front of Sophie’s building, Tasha said her good-byes and gave Omega a kiss on the cheek before getting out. Sophie on the other hand got out without saying a word.
“You gonna sit there looking stupid or are you going to make sure she’s okay?” Omega asked.
Li’l Monk mumbled something under his breath, before getting out and going after her. “Hold on, Sophie,” he called, jogging up the stairs to catch up with her before she made it inside the lobby.
“I’ll wait for you by the elevator,” Tasha told her, giving Li’l Monk and Sophie their privacy.
“You okay?” Li’l Monk asked her.
“Considering that I just watched the dude I was on a date with nearly get into a gun fight over another bitch, I’d say I’m just fine,” Sophie said sarcastically.
“Sophie, let me explain. I was just—”
“You don’t even have to say it, Li’l Monk. You were just trying to make sure Persia was good. You know, after seeing her for the first time tonight, I have to admit that I can’t blame you for being head over heels for her. She’s a very pretty girl.”
“It ain’t like that, Sophie. Me and Persia got history,” Li’l Monk explained.
“And we don’t?” Sophie shot back. “Just forget it, Li’l Monk. I am so done with this situation.”
“Don’t go to bed mad at me, Sophie.”
“I’m not mad, Li’l Monk, just a little disappointed.” She turned to go inside the building but stopped short. “If anything, I can chalk this whole night up to a learning experience. You wanna know what I learned?”
“What?” Li’l Monk asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.
“That you and I are more alike than either of us wants to admit.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because the both of us are in love with people who don’t even see us. Good night, Li’l Monk.” She disappeared into the lobby.
CHAPTER 24
After the brawl in the VIP it was a wrap for the club. Police shut it down and kicked everyone out. Tone invited everyone back to the after party they were throwing in their hotel suite, but Persia was in no condition to do any more partying. She was done with a capital D. Marty and Sarah wanted to keep the party going, but they didn’t want to abandon their homegirl, so Chucky promised to take her somewhere to sleep it off and pick them up when they were ready to leave the after party. It didn’t take much convincing before the two party girls were off with the Big Dawg entourage, leaving a very intoxicated Persia with Chucky.
Persia and Chucky looked like the picture of a drunken couple, staggering out of the club arm in arm. It was a wonder that the valet even allowed them to drive in their condition, but the extra fifty dollars Chucky slid him ensured that he wouldn’t cause trouble. Chucky took his time driving back uptown, admiring Persia’s visage. Even drunk and sweaty she was still beautiful. Persia turned her dreamy eyes toward him and smiled. Whatever she was on had her touchy-feely, because she kept running her hand up and down Chucky’s pant leg while he drove. She was twisted, but Chucky didn’t need her getting too twisted . . . at least not just yet. He pulled over at a store, and hopped out to grab a couple of bottles of water and a ginger ale.
While Chucky was gone, Persia tried her best to compose herself. Her head was spinning, but there was still a part of her that wanted to keep cutting loose. She wasn’t sure what was in those black shot glasses, but she knew it wasn’t all booze. She finally managed to get herself into an upright position and cracked the window. Her mouth watered up like she was going to vomit again, but it was a false alarm. In the ashtray she spotted a half-smoked weed clip. That would be just the thing she needed to settle her stomach. Persia didn’t have a light, but she spotted a book of matches on the floor of the car. Striking two at a time, she lit the weed clip and took a deep pull. Something about the weed tasted off, like there was a second flavor intermingled with it, but it didn’t stop Persia from filling her lungs with the smoke. When it settled, her whole body went as rigid as a statue. She couldn’t be sure, but Persia thought she heard cannons going off in her ears. Persia could barely part her lips enough to cough out the foul smoke. For a minute it she thought she was having an out-of-body experience, and it was the greatest thing she’d ever felt.
When Chucky got back to the car, he found Persia sitting up, staring off into space, with the smoldering weed clip in her hand. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Persia turned to him and her eyes looked almost vacant. “I found it in the ashtray. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
Chucky looked at Persia closely. From the whole set of her jaw, he could tell that her bells were ringing. “You okay?”
“I think so.” Persia touched her fingers to the seat she was sitting in and found that it was damp. “But I might’ve just had my first real orgasm,” she said without an ounce of shame. “You got any more of that?”
When they arrived at Chucky’s apartment, Persia was a little surprised. It was a cute one-bedroom that was sparsely decorated and immaculately clean to be a bachelor pad. “Make yourself at home and I’ll get us something to drink.” Chucky directed her to the couch, wh
ile he tossed his jacket over one of the armchairs. He disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few seconds later holding two glasses, one of which he handed to Persia.
Persia sniffed the glass and frowned. “This is orange juice, don’t you have any liquor?”
“Trust me, you need that more than you need liquor right now,” Chucky said as if he was genuinely concerned with her well-being. What he knew that Persia didn’t was that the citric acid in the orange juice would boost the effects of the pills she’d taken. Chucky watched Persia as she downed the orange juice. When he saw the flicker in her eyes, he knew she was rolling again. “Better?”
“Umm hmm.” She nodded with a goofy smile.
“You know, for as much as I was looking forward to this moment, now that it’s here I don’t know how I feel about it,” Chucky said.
“What do you mean?” Persia asked.
“Persia, you’re a good kid. From the minute I saw you, I knew you weren’t like Karen and them. You’re special and a special girl should have a special guy. Not some street nigga like me,” Chucky said as if he was ashamed of his chosen profession. “For as much as I hate to admit it, your friend Li’l Monk might’ve been right; you don’t belong around men like me.”
“Pay Li’l Monk no mind. He’s just overprotective of me,” Persia said, thinking of how over the years he had always been the one coming to her rescue, whether it was when she scraped her knee when she fell of her bike, or to give a good beating to the school bully in kindergarten for messing with her. “I’m grown and I can take care of myself.”
Chucky laughed. “Persia, you’re mature for your age, but in reality you’re still a kid. Me, I’m in a whole different league. Only a certain kind of chick is fit to deal with a man like me, and I don’t know if that’s you.”
Persia set the empty orange juice glass on the table and looked Chucky in the eyes. “Everybody thinks I’m this prissy-ass girl from Long Island City, but what they forget is that I was born in Harlem Hospital and raised right on 143rd and Seventh Avenue. My father used to run those corners, so I’m not stranger to the criminal element. I knew that you had to be mine and I had to be yours from the first time I saw you. You think you lured me over here, but I wanted to come. I wanted to be with you.”