by Keta Kendric
Her eyes danced with mischief. “You know me. I walked up to him with a gun aimed at his head until he spit out that he was my protection courtesy of the Vallins.”
Awed, my lips fell apart. “I had no idea they were guarding you too. Why? How connected are these people to feel the need to put protection on us?” Why did they have someone watching my cousin? It didn’t take a genius to find out rather quickly that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, unless their danger level was set so high, extra protection was the only way to survive.
“You call it guarding. I call it protecting their investments.”
Mecca was ladylike as far as appearance went, but her beauty often tricked most into believing she was weak until they tested her. However, I knew better. My cousin’s reputation was about as bone-chilling as the Vallin brothers.
“Our fiancés are two of the biggest arms dealers in the country, although they hardly ever touch the weapons they sell. They are deal makers, brokers in illegal sales, so to speak. And they are good. The icing on the cake is that they are backed by one of the biggest criminal syndicates on the planet.”
Mecca seemed almost giddy from the information she was spilling.
“The Vallins are members of the Ferali Syndicate, which takes their status to a whole different level in the criminal world. Once we marry them, we will also be marrying into the organization, and based on what I’ve found out, it’s run better than any Fortune 500 company. It’s not a nationwide organization. It is worldwide, making it one of the biggest organized crime syndicates in the world.”
She leaned in, causing me to draw closer for more of her enlightening information.
“In order for the brothers to marry us, they had to petition the organization for a majority vote. What we are about to embark on is much bigger than your father let on. Members of the Ferali Syndicate are virtually untouchable. Some believe the syndicate itself is a myth. Think about it. Do you ever see anything about them in the news, any arrests, anything?”
I shook my head. “No. I only know about them because of my father’s association with them.”
“Exactly. They are like the Illuminati of crime syndicates.” Her eyes flashed with glee, and a touch of pride even sat on her face.
“So, this is a good deal for us, for the Black Saints?”
She nodded. “I’m not sure how Uncle Raymond pulled this off, but for the Black Saints, this deal levels us up.”
“Doesn’t this put us in more danger than we’re already in, being Evans?”
“Not really. They don’t have a spotlight on them, are probably ten times richer, and therefore, the level of protection is better. Hence, why we already have bodyguards and haven’t even taken their names yet.”
Her face crinkled in concern as distress stiffened my body. “Des, we didn’t ask for this life. Hell, you tried to get out of it. If we are going to be in danger, we may as well be in it with a family that are members of the founding fathers of danger.”
“It makes sense, but looking at it from my perspective, I’ll no longer enjoy the freedom to walk away or distance myself like I did being an Evans.”
Mecca cast a sympathetic gaze in my direction. I needed to change the subject as the idea of losing a little more freedom darkened the good mood I wanted to keep.
“So, what happened after you confronted your Vallin appointed bodyguard, introducing yourself with a gun, no less?”
Her smile spread, transforming into a devious grin.
“I told him I would let him do his job, but to stay the fuck out of my way. I also warned him that I work in and travel to areas where his white life might be on the line, and I wasn’t going to stop shit from going down if his presence stirred up trouble.”
An evil little grin filled her face, revealing that she had been up to some mischievous deeds.
“What did you do?” Her smile deepened. “Mecca?”
“I drove my ass down to the Highland Parks Projects and checked our trap house like I normally would. I was not going to change my routine because my protection was the wrong color. Hell, I’ve been protecting my own ass since I was a kid. What I look like getting a babysitter now?”
“Was he crazy enough to follow you into those projects? The cops don’t even go in there.”
She released a wicked little giggle. “He did. Followed me right on in there like his ex-military training was all he would need.”
“What happened once he followed you in?” I was on the edge of my seat now.
“Fuck if I know. He followed, and I didn’t wait around to see if he made it out of there alive. If he were smart, he’d have known not to follow me in. If he were as well trained as he appeared to be, he would eventually have made it out of there. All I know is, today, a different guard was following me, this one, big and black.”
“Mecca!” I whisper-yelled, not believing she had possibly led her bodyguard to his death.
“Don’t you Mecca me. Your father got this ball rolling. I’m playing my part because it’s good for business. However, if these gun-dealing brothers think they are going to tame me, they can think again. I don’t care who they are connected to.”
I placed my hand atop my cousin’s. For the first time, I felt bad for Khane. Mecca wasn’t loud and obnoxious vocally, but she didn’t bite her tongue and was a magnet for stirring up trouble. Her nickname was quiet chaos, telling of her nature.
“I like Khane,” I blurted, breaking into whatever wicked little ideas were floating around in Mecca’s brain. “I sense that he is as dangerous as the rumors make him out to be, but in person, he is quiet and patient. He cooks and actually listens to what I have to say. You might have a little trouble getting him to talk, but other than that, I think he would make a good husband.”
“Quiet, I can understand. But cooking?” She wrinkled her nose at the idea. “What about all that killing they say he’s done? I thought he would be all weird and deranged, stalking you while you slept and standing over you with a knife, while he talked himself out of cutting you into pieces.”
Mecca’s words caused me to shiver. “Damn. Way to make me feel safe.” She flashed a teasing grin. I wasn’t telling her that I sensed being watched while I slept, but not in the deranged way she was describing. I squeezed her hands.
“So, tell me what’s been going on in Mecca’s world?” I needed to change the subject before she read me like she normally did and found out I was crushing on her fiancé. Besides, I didn’t want to spend our time together talking about the one thing I had been failing to get a hold of.
She held on to my hands, but her shoulders dropped. “I need a fucking life whisperer. The only damn thing I’m good at is Evans business, and if the men had anything to say about it, me having a pussy would disqualify me from running the business. As soon as Uncle Raymond handed me the keys to the kingdom, they decided they wanted to let their nuts hang out. Dealing with those chauvinistic bastards keeps me on edge and makes my fucking trigger finger itch.”
She leaned in, her eyes scanning the restaurant before they landed on mine. “I think that’s why I can’t commit or find a good man to lay up with for more than one night. Too much day-to-day exposure to all that testosterone has eaten away my feminine sensibility where relationships are concerned. Hell, most times, I find myself acting like the very thing that gets on my damn nerves.”
“You ever considered that maybe you haven’t met the right man? Or what if you’ve met the right one and you didn’t stay with him long enough to find out? Khane could be your Mr. Right.”
She shook her head. “Trust me, my dear sweet cousin, I haven’t even met him in person, and I know he isn’t. I love you, Des, God knows I do, but if you think white chocolate is my Mr. Right, you’ve been reading from the wrong books.”
She shook her head, a big fake smile on her lips as she eye-pitied me.
“Sometimes, you’re too open-minded. You’ll probably be in love with that future husband of yours within the f
irst weeks of your marriage. Probably going to end up with a Vallin baby in your belly within a few months, give or take a week.”
“What’s wrong with that? You haven’t seen these Vallin brothers in person. We could do worse, you know.”
I paused to lick my lips, and God help me, it wasn’t Arjen that popped into my brain.
“That good, hah? I haven’t seen them in person, but if they look like that face you just made, at least I’ll have something good to look at. But, you know me, Des. I need me a big hunk of chocolate with a Mandingo dick to bang my damn back out. Too bad finding one is about as difficult as finding ice cubes in hell. But, I’m persistent. I haven’t given up yet.”
Mecca thought outside the box when it came to business and navigating the street life. It was what fed into her success, yet she was unwilling to extend the same openness when it came to relationships.
“Love has no color. Don’t knock the white chocolate until you’ve tried it. You take your coffee with cream and you like it, don’t you?”
Her low chuckle was brimming with amusement. “Sometimes, I wish I had your optimism, but once I marry Mr. Animal Kannibal, there isn’t going to be any creaming of my coffee. He’ll be allowed to go out and dick down whoever he wants, and I’ll keep searching for my own personal sex warrior.”
My cousin expressed her desires with her sexual partners and would often make me blush when she’d tell me the things she requested from some of them. Like asking them to eat her ass whenever they messed up eating her kitty. You’re stumbling through the front door, so take your ass through the back is what she’d tell them. Her outlandish statements would set me off in a fit of laughter every time.
We were in the same boat, therefore it didn’t matter how either of us handled our sexual situations. We didn’t have good luck with love and relationships. Instead of talking about all of the good sex we’d been enjoying throughout our twenties, we often compared horror stories.
“One day, we are going to find the right men that will satisfy all our needs, wants, and desires. You are going to find you one that is going to put a permanent curve in your spine, maybe even uproot some of your hair.”
“Damn right,” she replied. “He knows I’m looking for him. He’s close. I can feel it.” She sniffed the air like she could smell him.
We laughed until Mecca’s eyes flashed a hint of pity in my direction. She knew I had trouble achieving orgasm and would often get frustrated during sex and fake them to get the act over with quicker.
She leaned across the table, her face fixed in determination. “I told you to tell them weak motherfuckers what you want. You can’t let them control the whole act. Their egos will have them thinking they are doing the damn thing, when they’re hardly even scratching your itch. If I’m going to get wet and ready, the least they can do is get me off.”
She pointed a stiff finger in my direction. “I told you a closed mouth is going to leave your pussy starving.”
My laughter burst free, shaking my chest and closing my eyes. The customers at the next table, a middle-aged Caucasian couple, were glaring in our faces. The man had leaned into our conversation, getting his ears filled. Mecca glanced in their direction when she sensed their gazes, staring them down.
“You never heard two single women talking about dick before? Turn the hell around unless you plan on giving us advice.” She sat staring and waiting to hear the advice if they had any to offer.
Mecca was straight hood, but what people would never know from the way she acted sometimes was that she had earned a bachelor’s degree in business, having graduated magna cum laude from UCLA. She always said and continued to say, that people were going to judge her anyway, so why not give them something to judge her for.
My face rested in my palms as I peeked at the couple through my fingers. Instead of gasping at Mecca’s rude comment, the woman and man offered friendly smiles.
The man turned his chair to see us better as the woman turned her body to us. “All you have to do is make him chase you. Find a way to make him think that you’re a precious commodity that he has to have, can’t live without, and I guarantee you will have him eating out of the palm of your hands.”
The man’s comments had our brows lifting in intrigue, and Mecca glanced at the wife. “Is that what you did to him?”
“Yes,” the woman replied with a giggle. “I always kept myself just out of reach, making him wait and appreciate every moment he ever got with me. And here we are, thirty-eight years later.” Mecca lifted her hand to high-five the woman, who was so eager to return the gesture, she almost missed Mecca’s hand.
“So, I need to apply a little technique to my game. I don’t plan on lowering my standards for these sexually-illiterate fools, but what you’re saying is I don’t have to be thottin’ and boppin’ in these streets to catch a man?” The man and woman glared at each other and nodded their heads to answer her question, although I was sure they had no idea what thottin’ and boppin’ was.
“I’m sorry we spied on your conversation. You ladies enjoy the rest of your dinner. We hope true love finds you two and keeps you in good company.”
“Thank you,” we replied together as the couple turned back to their meals.
“What was I saying?” Mecca asked, talking more to herself than me. “Yeah, if the dirtbags are going to get you dirty, at least get something out of it.”
She leaned in, face turning deadly serious. “You know I’ll always have your back, Des, even with our Vallin bodyguards.”
For years, she had been forming her own little network right under my father’s nose. All women, all with certain skill sets that allowed Mecca to turn the wheels of many wrong turns my father had made. She had been saving his ass for years, and most of the time, he didn’t even know it.
“Thanks, Mecca.” I didn’t want my cousin endangering her life to keep an eye on me when she had so much more on her plate, but I knew if I suggested she not do it, she wouldn’t listen.
We continued, engaging each other in vibrant conversation through our dinner, and a little spark would flare to life every time I sensed Khane’s eyes on me.
Why was I getting a sick level of satisfaction from knowing he had me in his sights?
11
Khane
They couldn’t have been more suspicious if they had painted their darkly tinted, black BMW, fluorescent orange. From afar they were two shadows within the vehicle’s cab, but on closer inspection through the lens of my monocular, I found two military types with their eyes glued on Desiree and her energetic cousin, Mecca.
Unfortunately, and thanks to my brother’s business expansion ideas, Mecca was technically my fiancée. I still had trouble understanding why I was getting hitched, but like a lot of the situations that dealt with the business side of our family, I didn’t question it. We would tie the knot and had no intention of stopping her from her plan to keep searching for her own personal sex warrior.
Arjen had been running things for seven years with great success, and although he made a point of teaching me everything he knew, I wanted little part of it. Business in our world involved a certain level of politics, and I was too direct to play that game.
Except for dropping a body here and there for the syndicate, Arjen ran things ten times smoother than our father had and raked in millions more a year. With Arjen at the helm, we not only earned more for ourselves and the syndicate, but loss of life had dropped by fifty percent. So, in essence, we were saving lives and making the criminal world a better place.
As I made my way closer to the suspicious BMW, the chatty men continued to spy on the ladies and were even bold enough to climb out of their vehicle to do so. I expected them to approach the restaurant, but instead, they stepped to the rear of the car and popped the trunk. Their muffled voices sounded as they resumed their conversation. Their actions were the distraction I needed to gain an edge on them.
A sneaky smile crept across my lips when the driver slammed the tr
unk and re-approached the driver’s side with an extra set of binoculars.
“I haven’t spotted anyone yet. I don’t believe they have anyone watching her,” the driver muttered as his buddy was sliding into the passenger’s seat.
“She’s certainly easy on the eyes. A nice piece of dark ass. Now, I understand why that Vallin prick would be interested,” the passenger stated, making a slurping sound.
“What about the one with her? She appears to be a handful, sassy, but sexy as hell.” The man continued his absurd remarks.
“I’d love to be the cream in between that Oreo,” came the driver’s annoying voice.
Unwilling to listen to another word, I lifted from the back seat and cleared my throat. My gaze met the wide eyes and gaping mouth of the passenger in the rearview mirror.
“How the fuck did you get in here?” he yelled, his breathing instantly elevated.
The driver’s attempt to go for his weapon was stalled when the edge of my gun tickled the area behind his head that would send his brains through the front of his forehead.
“Any sudden moves and we are going to see what your brains look like after 230 grains of hot metal has blown through it at 830 feet per second.”
His hand lifted from the steering wheel as his face fell in defeat. The passenger sat frozen, his eyes glued to mine. I tapped the blade I had to the passenger’s neck. “I’m dying to know if I could dissect your spine with one swipe.”
His eyes went wide as his body stiffened in panic.
“Y-you…you’re … Khane, ‘The Kannibal.’” His words were edged past his trembling lips.
At the realization, the driver’s fear level was elevated. All that moved were his expanding eyes.
“We don’t want any trouble with you. We were admiring the view. That’s all.”
“I know everybody in this town and don’t take too kindly of outsiders spying on women that are minding their own business.”