Hardhearted

by Sherrod Tunstall

“Please, please, stop. No!” Tyler said.

  Santana continued to jerk Tyler’s manhood even faster.

  “Yes!” Tyler could no longer contain himself. “Oh, Santana, kiss me. Please, kiss me . . .”

  Santana stopped rubbing Tyler’s penis. He took his hands and pulled Tyler toward him. They shared a kiss with so much passion and fire as Santana laid Tyler on his back.

  Tyler was ready to take on a new ride of total bliss and ecstasy.

  Chapter 23

  Playing the Game

  Swag was in his suite, drinking down a whole bottle of Hennessy. He was as drunk as a skunk but could hold his own. He was doing his best to drown his hurt and anguish with the alcohol, especially after his boy, his former friend, ended their long friendship and punched him. Thinking about the punch, if they were back in St. Louis, Swag would’ve kicked Tyler’s ass. But he let it pass since Travis was killed in the worst possible manner. Even though he and Tyler were no longer cool, it was like a bullet in Swag’s heart. They all grew up together from partying, smoking blunts, fighting ... anything you could think of.

  Swag sucked in a deep breath, knowing that everything around him was falling apart. He reminisced back to the time when all the fellas were in Brazil and locked in the elevators for days. He remembered the words Stan shared.

  “Cool out? Man, don’t say shit to us because this is all yo’ fault we in this bullshit! I’ve been trying to keep my mouth shut, but now that we’re alone, I could just fuck you up for getting us in this mess!” Stan yelled.

  There was no question that Stan’s blood was boiling.

  Swag stepped forward, moving face-to-face with Stan. “Listen up, motherfucker! I didn’t put a gun to your head and make you come to Brazil. So don’t put this shit on me. All you saw, bruh, was dollar signs.”

  Stan cut his eyes before walking a few inches away from him. “Fuck you, man. I hate yo’ ass. You ruined my life.”

  He took another sip of his drink, remembering the words of Tyler from earlier. “This is all your fault.”

  Swag started to repeat those words. “It’s . . . all my fault. It’s my fault!”

  He broke down crying, now knowing the world he knew was really gone. He felt that he’d fucked up all the good in his life, from the loss of his nana to abandoning his siblings and sons. But the biggie was having his boys and his only real family coming out to Brazil to help him. The one thing he remembered was an up-and-coming kingpin back in St. Louis told him to “Never get your family involved with this life ever.” Shit, he already sold out his boy, Stan, for falling for Paco’s bullshit. Then Brad, the real glue that kept the fellas together. Swag also thought of how he let Paco blindside him. He believed in Paco’s hype of freedom and getting money. But Swag’s real goal was escaping so that he could be with his sons again.

  He realized at this moment that the greatest treasure all this time was his sons. Now understanding that all he cared about was money—getting money and women—he realized that he wasted all the time he should’ve been spending with his children. Now, he was an international fugitive on the run from the law.

  He took another sip, thinking of his sons and what he was now missing out on. His son, Namond, would be 1 in a few weeks, and he wasn’t there for him. There was a possibility he was going to miss out on showing them how to be men, how to drive a car, see them graduate, and so much more. The main biggie that got him hurting about his sons was they would be fatherless, just like he was. He couldn’t have that for his sons. He needed to get himself out of this bad situation by any means necessary. He was determined to see his sons again.

  He lowered his head, getting his sons out of his system for the time being and refocused on the events that happened that day. His mind went straight to Tyler putting his hands on him. Swag knew he put his boys in a messed up situation, but no one put their hands on him. He started to get pissed at Tyler.

  Fuck Tyler. Who needs him anyway? I stand alone, Swag thought.

  He took the last sip out of the bottle. Tyler was dead to him too. If anyone was going to save Swag, it was Swag. The only way he could do that was the only option he had at this time.

  Operation: Get Close To King Kia Costello. She was the key to getting him out of a fucked-up situation.

  King, you want me? You got me . . .

  Chapter 24

  The King’s Swag

  King couldn’t sleep that night. She was on a high from earlier that day. She’d destroyed Paco, who had threatened her throne and his father’s also. She had a clear mind and believed that both their operations were safe for now. The biggest kick out of King’s day was watching the footage of Tyler killing that clown, Paco, stabbing him with her switchblade over and over again. After Paco was murdered, Tyler stabbed that asshole in his heart to make sure he was dead. To King, that was a total savage move. She loved the new monster she created and couldn’t wait to train Tyler to be the next of her assassins. She must have looked at the video five times, laughing every time she watched it.

  Since King couldn’t sleep from all the excitement, she decided to go into her living room with a glass of red wine and papers she placed on the coffee table. She should’ve been planning her next attack, which was her father, who denied her for so many years. Instead, she was planning a surprise birthday party for Josie’s big eighteenth. She was determined to toughen up Josie. One thing King hated was a prissy and scared-ass female. The way Josie acted with PJ was pathetic in King’s eyes. She knew that she had to keep her away from Swag for a while. In King’s mind, she already saw Swag and Josie had a connection.

  Thinking about them made her wet between the legs. It had been a while since she had this feeling of them taking her places that no one ever had. She shook her head, forgetting all about Josie’s birthday and felt more wetness between her legs. As she was about to slip two fingers inside her panties, someone knocked on the door. She was pissed off that she couldn’t get her shit off, and she hoped it wasn’t Blood thinking he was going to get some of her sweet honey. The banging on the door got harder, so she tightened her robe and headed over there.

  “Hold on, dammit!” She opened the door.

  The person standing at the door was a huge shock to her, but she was delighted. Seeing Swag put a smile on her face.

  “Well, hello, Solomon. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Swag was still drunk, but very much in control. He stood there in his wife beater, black slacks, and was barefoot.

  “King, can I talk to you for a sec?”

  “Sure, come on in.”

  Swag walked in. It was the first time he had ever been in her suite. It wasn’t what he imagined. He assumed it would be styled like a butcher shop and torture chamber. He was dead wrong. They walked over to the sofa and sat down.

  King crossed her legs and waited for him to say something. There was a long silence before she finally spoke up. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

  Swag knew he had to be on his A-game if he were going to win King over.

  “King, today was a real eye-opener for what you and the Leopard Clit do. I felt like I was in a Mafia movie or something.” Swag took a deep breath. “But Tyler losing his brother the way he did, that was crazy. The real reason I’m here is that Tyler is blaming me for his brother’s death, and I feel horrible about it.”

  King wasn’t paying any attention to what Swag was saying. She was just glad that her crush finally got the balls to come in her suite. She finally felt complete with him in her presence. She then noticed his still-wrapped-up hand and his bruised cheek. She was tired of hearing his sad love story. It was time to change the subject.

  “Oh Lord, what happened to your face, baby?” King rubbed his face.

  Swag brushed it off. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  Even though his and Tyler’s friendship was over, he still cared about his brother. He didn’t want King to harm him before he could get himself, and hopefully, Tyler, out of her world. King conti
nued to play that dumb blonde role. But at the same time, she didn’t want anyone to damage her new toy.

  “I’m so alone right now,” Swag said. “My boy kicked me to the curb. I just don’t know who to turn to.” Tears ran down Swag’s face.

  King looked with no emotion on her face. She hated weak men and women in any situation. In her world, if you showed only one sign of weakness, she kicked you to the curb. But King gave Swag another pass. There was something about him that made her warm. She put her hand on his shoulder.

  “It’s okay. Just forget him. In this life, you have no friends. The more power you have, the better. You don’t have any family either.”

  “True,” Swag agreed and thought about his bitch of a mother.

  King loved this moment. She was getting to know Swag little by little on a mental basis. “Listen, sweetie. Your King is here, and if you need anyone to talk to, come to me.”

  Swag nodded as he wiped his tears. “Thanks, King. I truly appreciate that.”

  “Anytime.”

  Swag kissed her on her cheek. Her skin was as soft as a baby’s bottom.

  King smirked at him. She admired him being a gentleman and not being forceful with their first semi-intimate moment together. She also loved her men to be a little forceful and who could take control. She had to remember, though, that she was the ruler.

  “Loosen up,” she said, pulling Swag closer to her and sticking her tongue in his mouth. They indulged in a heated kiss that gave Swag a woody. King loved this and liked the fact he was a good kisser. She halted the kiss and searched his eyes.

  “Oh, baby, stop. You’re getting me hot.” She knew exactly what she was doing. Any other time, she would’ve given him something he could feel. But for now, she was just offering him a snack—not the whole kitchen. Swag couldn’t believe he was being blown off. Her actions left him with blue balls.

  “It’s late, so I think you’d better go,” she said.

  “King, I don’t wanna be alone tonight. Can I stay with you?”

  King laughed. “You can sleep on the sofa for the night.”

  She went to her drawer and pulled out some Vaseline and tossed it to him.

  “What’s this for.”

  King giggled like a horny schoolgirl. “For your ‘friend’ down there. Shit, I ain’t Beyoncé, and I ain’t into that ‘Drunk in Love’ shit. So jack off and get off. Oh, sheets are in the closet.” She pointed to her closet. “Good night.” King left him and went into her bedroom.

  Once Swag heard the door close, he propped himself on the sofa with a big grin on his face. So far, so good.

  Chapter 25

  Another Right-Hand Man

  The next morning, Tyler was in bed, sleeping peacefully. The rays from the sunlight woke him up. He twisted his face while rubbing and covering his eyes. Why is it so damn bright up in here? he thought. He stumbled and slowly got out of bed, but he felt a flood of pain in his head, body, and anus.

  “Ooh.” He put his hand on his butt as he took a deep breath. “What the hell is wrong?”

  He stumbled over to the window, and with each step he took, his ass hurt like hell. He needed to close the blinds. It was way too early for all the sunlight. Once over at the window, he took a few more deep breaths. He quickly closed the blinds, but the pain in his head and anus were unbearable. He needed to get back in bed, but before he did, he looked down at himself, realizing that he was in his birthday suit. He also noticed white stains on his chest and stomach. He touched the stains, realizing the white substance was dried up come.

  “What? No, God. I didn’t! I didn’t! Did I?” His head started to pound even harder from just thinking. “Ooh, ouch.” He took more deep breaths. “Ouch.”

  He sat on the bed, then jumped up again. “Shit, what’s wrong with my ass?”

  He rubbed his temples because he felt light-headed. He began to have flashbacks of him and his wild sexcapade with Santana from the night before. They did it everywhere . . . from the sofa, the bed, the coffee table, and even the shower—in all different positions.

  “No, no, I’m not gay. I’m not gay!”

  Tyler believed the whole situation was a bad dream. He panicked, but could still hear Santana’s words in his mind. “Yeah, it’s all mine. Come to daddy.”

  Tyler remembered feeling pain but yet pleasure at the same time from Santana. No, no, this can’t be. I’m straight. I didn’t do this.

  He hurried to remove the messy sheets, but as he was in the process, Santana opened the bedroom door. Tyler looked at him with wide eyes.

  “Oh, you’re awake.” Santana walked in with two coffee mugs in his hands. “I brought you some coffee.” He put the mugs on the nightstand.

  “I don’t want your damn coffee, Santana!”

  Santana picked up one mug and sipped from it.

  “What happened to me?” Tyler asked.

  Santana laughed and put the mug down. “Nothing more than what you asked for, from the back, flip-flop, sideways, and even upside down. Shit, you a total freak.”

  Tyler pointed his finger at Santana. “No, you did something to me so you could have your evil way with me.”

  Santana nodded. “Ty, I didn’t make you snort that good-ass cocaine. You did that on your own—like a pro, might I add.” He smiled devilishly while grabbing his dick. “Shit, you took more than cocaine like a pro.” Santana exposed his penis and put it back in his pajama pants. “If you know what I mean. You sucked the shit outta this.”

  Tyler got up, still with a sore ass that was hurting and burning like hell. He pushed Santana. “Stay the fuck away from me, you faggot!”

  Santana caught his balance and continued to laugh. “Really? I wasn’t a faggot last night. I was a baby, boo, and big daddy when you damn near pleaded for me to put this dick inside your virgin ass.”

  This was pissing Tyler off because, in his mind, he wasn’t gay. All Santana was to him was an experiment. Also, a stress reliever from losing his twin yesterday. After last night, he wanted nothing more from Santana. Tyler was still trying to keep his macho, straight man attitude on.

  “You took advantage of me at my most vulnerable point. You took my kindness for weakness. You are evil and going to hell. You disgust me! All you gays disgust me! You all will burn in hell on Judgment Day.”

  Santana wanted to say so much shit back to Tyler’s homophobic comments, but he held back. He knew that Tyler was still mourning the death of Travis and still holding in a lot of pain. He slowly walked over to him.

  “Look, Ty, we can talk about this. I just have this weird feeling that we belong together.”

  He put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. Without warning, Tyler punched him on the side of his face. He fell on the floor in disbelief.

  “Stay the fuck away from me!” Tyler rushed over to the bathroom but turned to look at Santana before going inside. “I’m going to take a long, hot shower to wash off the curse you put on me. When I come out, you’d better be gone.”

  Tyler went into the bathroom and locked the door just in case Santana got any ideas.

  Santana got off the floor and looked at his face in the mirror. It was a little red, but it wasn’t anything that he couldn’t cover up with makeup. He laughed at the whole ordeal and was happy that his master plan was working. He could tell Tyler was feeling him and would soon be eating out of the palm of his hand. He chilled in the chair and waited on his new man to get clean.

  * * *

  In King’s suite, Swag slept like a baby so peacefully after finishing off a full bottle of Henny. King went into her living room with a head wrap on that covered her braids. A white towel covered her naked body after a relaxing morning bath. The smell of jasmine followed where Swag was sleeping on the sofa. She looked down at him, sleeping, and smiled.

  “Come on, wake up. No soldier of mine sleeps all day.” She shook his shoulder.

  Swag twisted his face with his eyes still shut closed. His head was pounding. He had a hangover from the Henny. He
finally opened his eyes, which were bloodshot red. Tears started to come down his face.

  “Damn.” Swag massaged his temples.

  “Come on, sit up and drink this,” King said, holding a glass in her hand.

  Swag wiped his face and didn’t want to be bothered. All he wanted to do was sleep all day and maybe get drunk again. He needed some kind of escape from this hellhole and was shocked when King slapped him on the side of his head.

  “Come on, Solomon! Rise and shine! I won’t repeat it!”

  Swag didn’t want to upset her. At the moment, he was trying to win her over. He couldn’t afford to fuck up the plan now. He slowly removed the covers and sat up.

  “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.” King pushed the glass of Bloody Mary to him again.

  Swag grabbed it, not knowing if the beverage was a real Bloody Mary or real blood mixed with guts.

  King smirked. “Down the hatch.”

  Swag sniffed it. “Eww, it stinks.”

  King rubbed his shoulder roughly. “Drink.”

  He stirred the drink with the celery stick, then took a tiny sip.

  “Eww.” He hated the taste of tomatoes mixed with liquor, but he needed something to break his hangover. He tossed back the drink and gave the glass back to King.

  “Good boy. Now, let’s go to the balcony.”

  Swag followed her to the balcony where they overlooked the city of San José, aka King’s kingdom. There was a table all set up and ready for them to eat.

  “Come sit down and have some breakfast with me,” King said, letting go of Swag’s hand. Although Swag was tired and sluggish, he had to admit it was a beautiful day. He sat at the table filled with fruit, eggs, bacon, toast, red potatoes, muffins, turkey sausage, freshly brewed coffee, and orange juice.

  “Just giving you a little breakfast,” King said, smiling. “What do you Americans call it?” King thought for a moment as she reached for a sausage link. She licked and sucked on it before taking a bite. “Oh, yeah. Continental breakfast.”