Hardhearted
Page 24
Because he was ready for more of her, he obeyed.
“Don’t just look at it, boy. Thank me. It’s time for payment.”
While having sex, King’s cell phone went off. She could barely reach over to get it, but when she did, she read a message from Blood.
It’s done.
King sighed from relief and released the biggest orgasm ever. No one outshines the King, she thought.
Chapter 35
Back to Normal
The next morning after a sexy night with King, the sunlight hit Swag. He was in an unfamiliar bed, lying on his stomach, buck naked. His head started to hurt from the scotch he had drunk last night. He used the sheets to cover himself up and lay back on the pillow while thinking about the wild night he and King had.
Within moments, King came into her bedroom with a breakfast tray. She was only wearing a bra and thong with a big Kool-Aid smile on her face.
“You hungry, Solomon? I made you some breakfast.”
He stared at her and got excited again. She noticed his hump growing underneath the sheet, but there was no time for what he wanted to do. She placed the tray beside him. He looked at the bacon, eggs, and a Belgian waffle. Li’l Swag loved waffles, and at that very moment, his thoughts shifted to his kids.
“Oh my God! The kids!”
He hopped out of bed and searched for his clothing. He rushed to put them on and ran out of King’s suite. When he arrived at his room, he found the bed made up, and the baby crib was gone. Swag was in pure panic mode. He looked all around the suite for his boys, but there was no sign of them.
“Li’l Swag! Namond!”
He rushed down the hallways of the Palace to find his sons. And in King’s room, she could see him on the monitors going crazy. She loved to see the fear on his face. It gave her so much power. She figured since Swag’s kids were back with their ratchet-ass mother by now, she was glad she was going to be his main focus. She lit another cigarette, proud, again, of what she had accomplished.
* * *
Swag continued to look for his boys like a madman. He checked nearly every room. He’d caught many escorts and their clients in uncomfortable situations, and all he could do was apologize. He couldn’t rest until he found his sons. He was now on Tyler’s and Ivy’s floor, still looking for his boys. Ivy, along with her new boy toy, came out of their room, and even Tyler and Santana came out looking at Swag like he’d lost his mind. Swag was sweating all over. That was a huge turn-on for Ivy, who still lusted for him.
“Solomon, darling, what’s wrong?” Ivy questioned with concern in her voice.
Swag looked at Ivy, who was wearing a pink silk robe. Her lover was naked. Swag didn’t care about any of that. All he wanted to know is if anyone had seen his boys.
“Ivy, have you seen my sons? One—”
“Oh, honey, King sent them back home last night,” Ivy said. “Didn’t she tell you?”
The words that came out of Ivy’s mouth floored him. “What was that?”
Ivy took a deep breath. She hated to repeat herself too. “That li’l jealous bitch of a daughter of mine had Blood take your children back to where they came.”
Those words were like bullets that shot through his chest. He couldn’t believe King would do something like that to him. Then again, he believed it. He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye or touch them one last time. Swag’s whole world crumbled. His sons were the one thing that kept him sane in this place. His heart felt empty. He lowered his head and tried to hold back tears. Flashbacks of memories of his boys flooded his mind.
He walked down the hallway and saw Tyler standing near the doorway to his bedroom.
“Now you see what it feels like to lose someone you love.”
Those words caused Swag to stop dead in his tracks. He slowly turned, looking at his former friend and give Tyler an evil glare. “What was that, faggot?”
Tyler laughed and let that word brush off him.
After being and doing Santana for the last few weeks, he was now even more comfortable with his newfound sexuality.
“You heard what I said. You took my brother away from me, and King took your boys back to the States. Now you see what it’s like to lose someone you love. Just be lucky they’re not dead, cut, or burnt up. You better be glad no one in this hellhole tried to rape your sons or kill their sanity like you did mine.”
Swag couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of Tyler’s mouth. Did this nigga just say rape? Did he mean that he wanted to rape my kids while they were here? The entire bull in Swag came out. All he could see was red. Swag understood the pain Tyler felt, but talking about rape and his sons had crossed the line.
Without out any warning, Swag punched the shit out of him. Tyler fell into the door and bumped his head on the floor. Swag punched him repeatedly, breaking his nose and kicking him in his back and stomach.
Santana yelled. “Hey! Get off him!”
Santana wanted to help Tyler, but he was too pretty to have Swag mess up his flawless face. So Santana did what he did best. He ran into the room, got his cell phone, and called security. Within moments, King’s security team came up to get Swag off of Tyler.
Swag pushed the security away from him. “Get off me, man! Get off me.”
He looked down at Tyler, who was coughing up blood and trying to catch his breath. He pointed his finger at his ex-friend. “You’re dead to me!”
Swag stormed away. He was pissed at everything and everyone, especially Tyler and King. He got on the elevator, and once he was on the first floor, he hurried outside and started running. Josie saw him and followed him.
King was in her suite, watching the whole scene. She saw Swag leave the Palace and was almost ready to send her security after him. Eventually, she decided against it and gave him time to calm down. Her cell phone rang. It was Blood calling again.
“Yes.”
“It’s done. The brats are back in St. Louis.”
“Excellent.”
Blood cleared his throat.
“Anything else, Blood?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Good. Now hurry back home.”
Chapter 36
Getting to Know Ya!
It seemed like hours that Swag was running down the streets of San José, not knowing much about the city or the language. Now, more than ever, he wished he’d learned Spanish a long time ago. After all the running, he stopped, out of breath and sweating. He started to walk and passed by some of the locations King had taken him to. To him, if he weren’t on the run, he’d have a real ball in San José.
Within moments, he heard a car horn honk and snapped his head to the side. He assumed King had already sent her goons after him to drag him back to the Palace. But when he looked, he saw a candy-apple-red Lamborghini parked on the other side of the street. The last person he expected to see popped her head out of the window. It was Josie.
“Swag, are you coming over here or what?”
Swag crossed the street and got in the car.
“Ma, is this your car? Did you follow me?”
“Yes and no. The car belongs to Uncle Blood. He’d kill me if he found out I was driving it.”
“And you goin’ risk your own life?”
“Frankly, I could give a shit right now.” She drove off. Swag couldn’t believe how well Josie was driving the car.
“So, why did you run off? What’s going on?”
Swag scratched his head. He was frustrated. “They’re gone.”
“Who?”
“My sons. King sent them back to St. Louis. I didn’t even get a chance to tell them I love them or goodbye.”
“Now that’s some coldhearted shit she did.”
“No shit.”
Josie felt so sorry for Swag. She liked his son, Li’l Swag, who, she believed, had a career in dance. She wanted to make Swag feel better. Then a lightbulb came on in her head, giving her a great idea. She did an illegal U-turn on the street and freaked Swag out.<
br />
“Holy shit! What the hell are you doing!” he yelled and held on to his seat belt.
Josie laughed. “It’s a surprise.”
Swag shook his head and thought about King with her bullshit surprises. Now he wondered what in the hell Josie had in store for him.
They reached an area of San José that looked like the slums of Costa Rica. It kind of reminded Swag of the slums of Rio, where Armand had him and all the fellas hidden for a while until shit cooled off.
They arrived at an abandoned building that looked like it was about to collapse. Josie parked the car and got out. Swag looked at his surroundings. This part of the town looked dirty and forgotten. He was scared to get out of the car, not knowing what was going to happen. Josie tapped on the window.
“Come on! Hurry up!”
He got out and looked around. “What is this place?”
“You’ll see.”
Josie opened the door to the abandoned building, but Swag was hesitant to enter.
“Swag, are you coming?”
Swag was still near the car. “Are you sure it’s safe to go in that building, or is it safe to leave Blood’s car out here in this area? If it gets fucked up or stolen, Blood will have your neck—if King doesn’t get to it first.”
“Don’t even worry about that. The car will be fine. Now, come on!”
The only thing Swag could do was take Josie’s word for it. He just prayed nothing bad happened to the car—or them—while they were in the building. They went inside. Swag was amazed by what he saw. He thought the old building was run-down with rats everywhere. But it was a semi-decent dance studio with everything any dancer would need. He also noticed kids were stretching and getting ready to dance. Josie smiled and walked over to the children.
“Hola, chicos and chicas.” Josie spoke to the kids in Spanish.
“Hola, Madam Josie!” shouted the students.
Josie took her jacket off and showcased a ballerina outfit. She put her curly hair in a bushy ponytail. She said something else to the kids, and they all looked at Swag and spoke.
“Hola, Señor Swag.”
He smiled and waved at the children. Josie had all the children gather around on the dance floor. Swag stood against the brick wall and watched. Before long, they were practicing a dance Josie created. To Swag, the dance looked like something she practiced earlier in the Palace, the first day he arrived. The dance had a mixed African and Haitian flavor to it. Swag loved to see the children dancing and having fun. He especially loved how Josie took the time to help needy children and teach them to dance.
After a while, Swag joined them and had a good time. It was as if his troubles had almost melted away. When class was over, Josie told the children to meet her back there next week, and they left. Now, Swag and Josie were alone.
Swag told her that he admired her for what she was doing for the inner-city youth of San José.
“Thanks. I take some of the money King gives me and use it to do some work on this old dance studio without King’s knowledge. I just want these kids to have some type of hope so that they won’t be on the streets selling drugs or one day be working for King at the Palace.”
Swag nodded his head in agreement with her. At this very moment, he wanted to know everything about Josie. He knew there was more behind her than dance and being the heiress of the Palace. He cleared his throat and held her hand. She searched his eyes.
“So, J, how did you end up with King?”
Josie was in complete shutdown with that question. No one had ever asked her that. “Excuse me?”
“How did you end up with this King chick?”
Josie sighed and let go of his hand. She didn’t know what to do. Her heart told her she could trust him with this secret. “Let’s sit on the floor. Relax. Because this is a long story.”
Chapter 37
Haitian Beauty Secrets
Josie went into one of the closets and pulled out a radio and pushed play. The tune that came on was sentimental. She walked over to the middle of the room and stood there. Next, she began to tell her story through dance.
Swag loved her dancing and started to understand her method of storytelling.
Josie remembered her grandmere Dunham and grandmother Marie back in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.
Dunham Depaul, a beautiful, brown-skinned Creole Haitian, was born to an upper-middle-class family. But the one thing that no one could touch her on was her singing voice. Everyone told her that she could’ve been the Haitian version of singer Lena Horne. Most people put into her head that she was the most people-woman that they ever saw, but it was also her curse, which led her to get raped by her first cousin, Pierre Batiste, at the age of 15.
Swag cried at the thought of any man raping a woman.
Josie continued to dance, telling her family’s story and thinking about how Dunham was treated and how she treated her child.
When she told the family about the rape, no one believed her. And to make matters worse, she was pregnant with Pierre’s child. Immediately, Dunham wanted to abort the baby because it was a rape child. The family told her she was going to keep the child. And the one thing that made Dunham almost kill herself was they made her marry Pierre. After marriage, her life was pure hell. Her rapist husband would always beat and rape her every day of her life while she was pregnant until she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Marie Louise Batiste.
All while Marie was growing up, Dunham called her a rape child and an abomination against nature.
Tears came down Josie’s eyes, and the music started to end. She stopped dancing for a minute.
Swag started to get up to console her, but Josie held her hand out, telling him to stay.
He sat.
Then the radio played a jazz tune called “Go Down to New Orleans.” Josie wiped her tears and had a big smile on her face. She started to do a jazz routine thinking of Marie and happy times in New Orleans.
So when Marie was 16 and graduated from high school, she went to join her father in New Orleans. Marie went to Central LA Tech Community College and majored in fashion design. If there was one thing she loved, it was clothes. Even when her mother made her wear rags, she, along with her maid, would sew and make Marie her own style of dresses, and that pissed Dunham off even more. When she graduated, Marie tried to sell her designs to local boutiques or to whomever she thought would give her a chance. But in those times, it was hard for a woman to be a designer, especially a woman of color, to make it in America. Marie worked as a seamstress at a local cleaner and was a part-time hostess at a restaurant. Even though she was tired from working all day, she would use her free time to design her own creations. At times, she almost gave up hope . . . until one evening, she was taking a smoke break at her second job, and she got the attention of one man. He told her that he admired her work.
Marie pretended like he didn’t exist, but he came around for a few days and introduced himself as Jean Pierre Mereaux, a rich, white Frenchman that promised to back her dreams.
Swag smiled at how happy the performance was.
Josie turned, leaped, turned again, and held herself, thinking of the grandmother’s sadness and Jean’s betrayal.
Marie believed that their love would be forever . . . until Marie found out she was a few weeks pregnant. Excited, she had a vision that she and Jean would be one big happy family and live happily ever after. But her dream was crushed when Jean told her that he couldn’t marry her, mainly, because he was already married with three children back in the south of France.
Marie begged Jean to be with her and their unborn child. He told her that he couldn’t, but he asked Marie to be more patient with him and wait until the right time.
Marie agreed to wait for him, but deep down, she knew she was lying to herself. She felt like a fool. She had been lied to and deceived by Jean, a man she loved and put before everything else, even before her designing. Depressed and saddened about raising her child as a single mother, she packed up and took her
life’s savings and moved back home to Haiti.
The song ended, and Josie dropped to the ground.
Swag looked at her for a moment until Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey’s “When You Believe” played.
Josie stood up, thinking about Marie going back to Haiti and her own mother.
When Marie arrived in Haiti, she found that her mother lived in a new home in Pétion-Ville and was now married to a wealthy businessman. At first, Dunham didn’t want her rape child and soon-to-be bastard grandchild to mess up her newfound lifestyle or money. Marie had made up lies about being married, and her child’s father died in a tragic car accident. Her purpose for coming home was she needed to be with family right now. In Marie’s mind, Jean was dead to her, but in the back of her mind, she hoped he’d find her and somehow make things right.
William Joseph, Dunham’s new husband, allowed Marie to stay with them for a while. Within months, Marie gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Mereaux Jean Batiste. Dunham loved her new granddaughter. Mereaux had beautiful, thick, curly hair, soft brown eyes, and she could pass for a white child.
Once Marie was better, she started work as a maid and a seamstress. When Mereaux got a little older, Dunham put her in dance school, and she even became Mereaux’s personal vocal coach. Dunham thought since she couldn’t live her dream, she might as well live her life through Mereaux.
As time went on, Mereaux became an exquisite dancer, and her singing voice was to perfection. She went on to dance and sing in shows through the Caribbean. Not only was Mereaux a great performer, but she also grew into a beautiful young lady, thanks to Marie, who did her makeup and costumes.
Everyone was so into Mereaux’s style. She had the finest fabrics, and all dancers and studios asked Marie if she could design costumes for them. In time, Dunham was impressed by how Marie designed clothes, and she asked her child to design an evening gown for her. In Marie’s mind, it was a way to build a mother-daughter relationship—something she always wanted.
By the time Mereaux turned 16, she had excelled as a dancer/singer. She won awards in both the Caribbean and even America. But her mind wasn’t always focused on her craft. She had fallen in love with a young man in school named Joseph Mathis.