Games Women Play

by Zaire Crown

  They surprised Detective Bates, who was out there bent over a table in plaid boxers with his pants dropped around his ankles while Jaye and Brianna took turns spanking him with a belt. When he saw his superior officer, he quickly yanked up his slacks and took his tie back from Baby Doll, who was wearing it around her scalp like a headband.

  Dresden looked at him steely-eyed. “Detective, let’s go. We’re done here!”

  Jaye had already confirmed with a subtle nod that the boys had come and were gone with the body. Tuesday should’ve been relieved to see the cops go, but after everything she’d gone through and what this little stunt was going to cost her, she actually wanted them to search the club. At least that way she would feel like Face truly earned his money.

  “So that’s it?” Tuesday asked with a note of resentment that the girls couldn’t understand. “You don’t need to see anything else?”

  Bates looked to Dresden, who gave Tuesday a dry smile. “Naw. I think I’m pretty satisfied.”

  Tuesday followed the big white boy to the door shooting daggers at the back of his head all the way until he climbed into the unmarked squad car and pulled out of the lot.

  DelRay showed up in her Caddy a minute later; then Face and two fiends were right behind him in a nondescript blue Ford panel van that had Tank in the back zipped up in a body bag. He left the strangers in the van when he got out to greet her at the door.

  He smiled. “I ain’t gone lie, I was kinda shook. I ain’t never tried no shit like that, but you pulled it off. I promise to never doubt your skills again.”

  Face looked her up and down and the smile grew wider when he noticed she was only wearing a bra and thong set. “Damn, girl, I can only imagine what went down in your office to keep that nigga busy!”

  Tuesday shot him an icy stare but didn’t respond. She turned away from the door to go back inside and Face followed with his eyes bouncing from her ass to her feet the entire way.

  Jaye, Brianna, and Baby Doll had already started to get dressed but Tuesday didn’t bother. She went behind the bar for more cranberry juice but this time she spiked it with vodka.

  Face said, “It’s kinda early to be going in like that.”

  Tuesday gave him another Fuck you look then turned up her glass.

  DelRay came in behind Face carrying the Coney Island that had now grown cold. Tuesday didn’t care because when he set the bags on the bar, she immediately snatched out a burger and attacked it. The girls gathered around taking out burgers, onion rings, and fries soaked with cheesy chili, but the others opted to heat theirs up first using the tiny microwave behind the bar.

  “This been a helluva muthafuckin’ night,” DelRay said, unwrapping a cheeseburger he was too impatient to warm up. “Y’all don’t pay me enough to do this type of shit!”

  “They sure in the hell paying me enough!” Face said, still beaming a smile.

  The girls had never met him before, and of the trio, Brianna was the only one who seemed openly put off by his acne scars. She stared at him, repulsed, as she said, “I don’t know what for. It ain’t like you did nothing! DelRay and them fiends the ones who carried ’em out. Plus, they didn’t even go back there to look around anyway!”

  His smile never wavered. “And that don’t mean shit to me, bitch!” He held out his hand. “And while we at it, I’ll be taking those keys now.”

  Her eyes went wide. “What keys?” She looked to Tuesday. “What the fuck is he talking about?”

  “The keys to that ’Maro!” Face said, making the gimme motion with his hand. “Come on in wit ’em.”

  “Nigga, you got me fucked up! You betta get your ugly ass out my face and go see a dermatologist!”

  That remark finally killed his smile. “Ah, Tuesday. Tell yo girl I ain’t the nigga to be playing with. The whip is mine—that’s already a done deal.”

  Tuesday confirmed it with a nod. “I had to promise it to him, Bree. It was the only way he would help us.”

  She was still mugging him, hesitant to turn over her keys, but there was a hard look in his eye that made her believe he was not to be tested. Brianna knew that she really didn’t want a problem with a nigga who was in the business of making people disappear. She smashed the keys into his hand. “I’m just gone report it stolen!”

  “Don’t matter,” Face said, dropping them into his pocket. “In three days it’s gone have brand-new paperwork, VIN numbers and everything. I’m giving it to my nephew as a graduation present in two weeks.”

  “And on that note. I hate to do it but—” He reached his hand out for Tuesday’s keys. They all gazed at her in disbelief because everybody knew how she felt about the Caddy.

  She nodded to DelRay and he dropped the keys into Face’s palm.

  Face noticed that she hadn’t spoken to him the entire time and knew that the silent treatment was about more than him getting down on her. “TK, what’s up with you?”

  She chased a bite of her burger with another swallow of vodka and cranberry juice. “What’s gonna happen to ol’ boy?”

  Face explained. “Well, in about an hour he’s gonna be in the trunk of a ’76 Buick LeSabre that’s getting crushed to the size of a three-foot cube. Four hours later that cube along with sixty others are gonna be on a flatbed headed for a landfill in Arizona. Ain’t no way this gone get traced back to you—or me, for that matter.”

  For Tuesday that was good to know, but she really wasn’t concerned about a connection being made between her and Tank. “I don’t want you to crush him or send him to Arizona. I want you to put him on ice for a couple days then put him where I tell you.”

  “Put him on ice?” Face looked at her like she was crazy. “Whoa, baby, I ain’t running a funeral home or a mortuary service here! I get rid of niggas, not keep them in storage.”

  “Do this and you can add another hundred racks to my bill!”

  This shocked everybody standing around including Face, who nervously rubbed his bald head. “All right. I don’t know what you got up but I’m not sitting on him for longer than three days. Y’all just better make sure to pull off this lick and get all this money y’all owing me!”

  After parting words, Face left them to their breakfast. One of his fiends drove the van, he took the CTS and Brianna watched with teary eyes as the second fiend pulled off in her Camaro.

  Jaye went and fetched Tuesday’s clothes even though she didn’t ask for them. As she dressed, they all sat around the bar eating while secretly trying to figure out what was on her mind.

  Tuesday was quiet because all she thought about was getting this money then getting the fuck away from Detroit and this life for good.

  But before she left, she was going to stick some serious dick to Dresden for all the times he stuck it to her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Once they did a little more cleaning and aired out the changing room to get rid of the smell, they locked up the club and everybody started to go their separate ways. Baby Doll caught a ride with DelRay, who joked that it would either cost her gas money or head; and while Doll swore to not having any cash on her, she still jumped into the passenger seat of his old Monte Carlo. Brianna called one of her male friends and within minutes some nigga in a new CLS showed up to get her. She wanted Tuesday to be jealous and made sure to throw her a look as she strutted out to his burgundy Benz. Tuesday was ready to take a cab home but when Jaye offered to drop her off, she thought long and hard before she accepted.

  When they pulled up to the front of her building, Jaye seemed impressed by the gleaming waterfront tower. Just from seeing the outside she could tell that the condos were plush and you had to have your money right to live there.

  She said, “I always thought you had some low-key apartment out in the suburbs.”

  Tuesday gave a suspicious look as she unclasped her seat belt. “That’s because I plays my shit like the Bat Cave. Only me, Robin, and Alfred know where this bitch at, and I like to keep it that way.”

  Jaye got the mes
sage and dapped her up when Tuesday offered her fist. “I got you, Boss Lady. I ain’t the bitch to be putting yo business out there.”

  They had parting words and Tuesday got upstairs around eight a.m. with plans to sleep until eight p.m. After quickly going through the series of rituals required for just coming home, she fell across her bed fully dressed and was out before she kicked off her shoes.

  The plan had been for twelve hours of sleep but she only managed closer to seven. She woke up around three p.m. with crusty eyes, a dry mouth, and in need of a shower. She spent fifteen minutes standing under scalding hot water and when she toweled off, as usual, Nicholas the cat was perched on a nearby windowsill to watch her lotion up.

  She got dressed then checked her phone and was relieved to see two missed calls from Tushie. Not hearing from her girl in so long worried her, especially when she was spending so much time with this new nigga that Tuesday hadn’t met.

  She gave Tushie a call and spent half an hour putting her up on the craziness that happened at The Bounce. Of course, she didn’t go into the details over the phone, but using a bunch of code words and slang, Tushie was able to get the gist of the story.

  After the unpleasant news, the girls switched to brighter topics. Tushie gushed about De’Lano and, without even realizing she was doing it, Tuesday gushed a lot more about the time she had on her date last night. She told Tushie about the fun they had and the games they played and how he’d won her a big stuffed giraffe. She bragged about how well she handled herself around all those messy, screaming kids and how much Danielle liked her.

  As Tuesday blabbed, her girl was quiet on the other end and there was a tension in the silence that she eventually picked up on. “Tush, what’s up?”

  “Nuthin’, I’m jus listenin’ ta you,” she answered. “I ain’t neva heard you talk like dat about a mark befo. In fact, I ain’t neva heard you talk like dat ’bout no nigga! You still on game, right?”

  Tuesday looked confused like some malfunction with her phone service was causing Tushie’s words to come through in Chinese. “Bitch, I ain’t never off game! What do you even mean by that?”

  Tushie was quiet for a moment. She was never one to bite her tongue, but she wanted to choose her words carefully. “It’s jus tha way you talkin’ ’bout dat nigga, it sound like you really feelin’ ’em. Then I know dat shit wit A.D. got you hurt and kinda vulnerable and I jus wanna make sho you ain’t slippin’.”

  Tuesday got offended because her best friend was basically accusing her of breaking Rule One; the cardinal rule, the first and most important thing that was stressed to each new chick who joined the team, the same law that she herself had drilled into Tushie years back when she first got down: You don’t ever catch feelings! It doesn’t matter how fine a mark is, how good he can fuck, or how much he spoils her, the girl baiting him is never supposed to develop an emotional attachment. The lick is more important than the dick; her loyalty should always be to the team and the cream.

  Tuesday said, “Bitch, are you forgetting that I’m the one who taught you the game?”

  “I ain’t neva forgot dat, my nigga! And you taught me well, dat’s why I’m sayin’ what I said. You can fool dem otha bitches, but I know you betta than dat—you lonely and you been lonely for a minute. Seeing dat nigga wit dat li’l girl make it easy to start dreamin’ ’bout playin house.”

  Tuesday smacked her lips. “I know you ain’t talkin’! You ain’t known this De’Lano nigga two weeks and you ready to jump a damn broom.”

  “A bitch can’t lie. I am fallin’ pretty fast, but then again, I ain’t the one on a mission either. It would be different if we was takin’ a look at dis nigga, but dis my personal life. If I was workin’ his ass, I would be on my shit sniffin’ out dat bread!”

  Tuesday snapped. “Oh, so now a bitch ain’t on her shit! The same way you ain’t been on yo shit lately. Wasn’t you s’posed to be working last night when all this dumb shit happened? We needed you then, and I needed you to help wit the mission yesterday, but you wasn’t around. It’s like Jaye been coming through for me more than you. Got me wondering why I’m even fuckin’ with you in the first place!”

  Those were harsh words and Tuesday regretted them the instant they slipped out. People used to say “pause” after they said some fucked-up shit but right then Tuesday wished she had buttons to pause and rewind. If only she could suck the words back in the way you could blow a bubble then pull the gum back into your mouth. But she couldn’t do that. All she could do was listen to the silence Tushie was giving her from the other end as both girls dealt with what was said and how each of them felt about it.

  Tushie’s voice was a lot softer and very sincere when she finally spoke: “Look, I know I been MIA for tha last couple of days, but don’t let dat take away from all tha years I been holdin’ shit down.

  “Yeah, I been spendin’ a lot of time wit dis nigga but dat’s jus because it feels so good. I don’t jus mean tha sex and goin’ out ta eat; it feel good jus bein’ able ta be real wit somebody. I’m tired of all dis manipulating and game-playin’ wit niggas. I know dat’s what we do but it feel good to be able ta be yo’self around a man, and to know dat tha person he feelin’ is really YOU and not some fuckin’ character you playin’! I been needin’ this shit!”

  Tuesday nodded solemnly as if Tushie could see her through the phone. She knew what her girl was talking about because A.D. was the only nigga she had that she could be real with. Even though it was only for a few hours at a time in a prison visiting room, Tuesday had appreciated having that and was really missing it.

  Tushie continued, “TK, I got mo love and respect fo you than any bitch out here, and I ain’t tryin’ ta come at you sideways. I jus don’t wanna see you get hurt cuz you ain’t on yo shit. Don’t forget fo one minute who we might be dealin’ wit and what he can do!”

  Tuesday was then able to appreciate that this was concern coming from a loving place.

  “Tush, believe me, I’m still focused. And after this morning, I owe Face so much cake that I gotta make this happen. I’m locked in now, I don’t got no other out. Plus, it’s gone take a lot more than one night at Chuck E. Cheese and a big stuffed animal to take me off game.”

  Tushie enjoyed hearing that from Tuesday because as much as Sebastian Caine had a reputation for being smart and elusive, he also had one for being ruthless.

  They talked a while longer and after a few minutes it was like that brief awkward moment never happened. They were setting up a date for her to be introduced to De’Lano when Tuesday’s other phone rang. She told Tushie what the deal was and got off the phone with her so she could talk to Marcus.

  “Get dat money to tha house, bitch!!” was the last thing Tushie said before she clicked off the line.

  Tuesday dropped that phone and put the other one to her ear when he started in without small talk. “Look, I know this is incredibly short notice, but I’ve got a business dinner tonight and I need a date. I need to show up with somebody who’s beautiful enough to turn heads, intelligent enough for great conversation, and classy enough not to embarrass me. But since I couldn’t find anybody like that, I thought I’d ask you!”

  Tuesday laughed so hard that her eyes began to tear up. She always liked men with a sense of humor who weren’t afraid to bullshit around with her. Most niggas were too intimidated by Tuesday’s looks to slip her like that because they assumed she was so stuck up and insecure that the jokes would offend her.

  “And what makes you think I would go out with you again after the shitty time I had last night?”

  He laughed now. “Because the band won’t be playing ‘Knick Knack Paddy Whack’ and all the guys trying to peek up your skirt will be grown this time.”

  “Wow, horny old guys instead of horny twelve-year-olds, how can I say no to that!”

  “Well, if you gimme your address, I’ll be to scoop you around six.”

  Tuesday gave him the address to the apartment on 8 Mile then checked he
r watch to see that she only had two hours to be there dressed and ready.

  Dressed! She had no idea of what she was going to wear. While still on the phone, she sprinted into the walk-in closet to consider her options.

  “And don’t start trippin’ about what you’re gonna wear cause I got you,” he said, reading her mind again. “I figured I owed you that much after I made you waste that sexy dress last night.”

  “You damn right you do! But what if you don’t get my size right? And what if you pick out something I’m just not feeling?”

  “Tabitha, trust me, you’ll have a few choices. And as far as your size, you ain’t the first girl I ever dated who had a little bit of ass.”

  “A little bit?” she snapped.

  “All right, a lot of ass!”

  “That’s better.”

  “Still sniffing out those compliments any place you can get ’em, huh?”

  “Always.”

  “Well, just make sure you’re ready when I come at six because our flight’s at seven.”

  “Flight?” Tuesday wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.

  “Yeah, flight!” he reiterated.

  “You mind telling me where we’re flying to?”

  “Cali,” he said nonchalantly. “Dinner’s in L.A.”

  Tuesday wished she could’ve got something done to her hair, but just like the day before, he didn’t give her much notice. All she had time to do was pack an overnight bag (since she assumed they wouldn’t be back the same evening) and mash the Honda over to the Town Square apartment that she was using as a front.

  She only had to hang out there for twenty minutes watching from her window before he showed. When his Audi pulled in front of her building, she hurried downstairs to meet him outside. She couldn’t let him come to the door of her unit because there was no way to explain why her apartment was totally empty.