Graveyard Love

by T. C. Littles

  I stashed the money in my bedroom closet, then texted Lezlee so she could pull up. In the back of my mind, I hoped she was coming to bust a nut too. After dealing with Spade and Jakia, I needed to release some stress more than murking a nigga.

  When Lezlee responded she was on her way, I grabbed a Budweiser, then sat on the porch to scope the next house Spade and I would hit before I moved. He and I got down in the grimiest of ways—but went about getting our bait differently.

  He preyed on cats that used Instagram to floss. I preyed on cats who flossed in the gutter neighborhoods, then ran in when they least expected. I never lay my head in a flophouse longer than a month—maybe two—and never frequented the local spots to become a regular.

  My whole MO was to stay low key, so I could creep on suckers and was in and out before they could whisper my name. I finessed fools from Detroit on a daily. They ain’t never seen two menacing niggas like me and Spade—not ever. Spade was more than making up for being the bullied kid growing up.

  Out of the three banging houses on the block, I picked the most popping of them all. Just in the time I was waiting for Lezlee, I watched cars of all types pull up and drive away. Saabs, Cutlass Supremes, Jeeps, and even bicycles rolled up with custos looking to get served.

  People from all walks of life frequented this house—which told me the product on hand ranged from marijuana to blow, with pills in between. I’d seen some of the highest paid salaries cop a fix from this joint, so I wanted in on their profit.

  Spade might’ve been busy getting his broad in line, who already walked a thin one, but I shot him a text as Lezlee was pulling up that our lottery ticket across the street was ready to be cashed in. Like I said, with me, money was always on the floor.

  Jakia

  “Why are you doing this to me? Please, stop!” The way Spade was coming for me, you would’ve thought he was going for the “kick Jakia’s ass trophy.” We’d only made it across the threshold to our house, and I’d already taken it upside the head, in the gut, and across the same face he made me ice in the car. Life for me right about now couldn’t get any lower.

  “I was only doing it for us—because you told me to. Don’t send me back out. I swear I’ll never cheat again.”

  “Shut up, trick! I ain’t trying to hear that crap. I saw you enjoying that punk buster’s stroke. Don’t insult me with that whining shit ’cause you were playing for more than our come-up. You were in it for the nut too.”

  He strong-armed me up into the air and had me dangling like a ragdoll as I struggled to breathe and get loose. I momentarily stopped breathing on my own, not wanting his hands to be the ones to take me out of the game, but I kept fighting for the chance, hoping he’d give in.

  With no such luck, he slammed me down onto the couch, then rammed my head into the wall. I saw stars like the Looney Tunes characters I laughed at as a child as he sat on top of me with all his weight.

  “So, you ain’t like his dick? Tell the truth and shame the devil,” he scorned me, having some right to judge.

  “I swear he forced himself on me. I couldn’t stop him, Spade, and I hated every minute of it.” I was being honest. The disgusting feeling of having him inside of me still lingered.

  “So, you gonna keep lying, huh? Damn, you’ve really hurt my heart today.”

  He fell into me out of breath with his chest beating a mile per minute. I kept begging for him to stop, declaring my love for him, and reminding him of my track record of loyalty. But once he caught wind, he rose back up again ready to attack.

  “Look, quit humoring a nigga. Be real.” Spade must’ve felt slightly inferior ’cause no nigga should’ve been so pressed on the read about another dude’s pipe game.

  “I am,” I whimpered, wiping crocodile tears from my face.

  He shoved me in the chest when I leaned up to hug him. I didn’t know what my last resort was, but if he was gonna kill me with his fist, I was gonna at least put up a fight.

  Each time I tried to make a move, Spade either pushed me back down onto the couch by my throat or barricaded me with his weight. I felt helpless and at his mercy as the devil tried to manipulate my actions.

  The more I defended myself from him, the harder he beat me. I was no competition to the thug Spade was, even with my best try. I couldn’t win, so I gave in and let my body black out.

  Spade

  Jakia’s small body lay sprawled across the floor, black and blue from taking my fists left and right. At no point did I let up or respect the struggle she was going through ’cause I felt mad disrespected.

  Before my pops died, he prostituted my mom out when his pockets couldn’t support his drug habit. And when she skimmed off the cash, she had to be put in line for stepping outside of boundaries.

  I inherited my father’s ways but had my own hustle. In setting niggas up and robbing them of their riches, I wasn’t pimping Jakia’s pussy out, so she wasn’t getting ready to either.

  Deep down inside, I loved this girl, but the only way I knew how to display that affection to a woman was with brute force and control. Her stepping out of line with ole boy totally threw me out of my square, but watching the madness unravel in front of my eyes with her being with another man was like a wake-up call.

  I couldn’t take it. That shit drove me in too deep of a rage. Without a doubt, Rocko and I would have to scout another girl for our setup sprees because as of now, Jakia was retired. I was gonna have the blood of every nigga out here that stepped to her—the line was officially drawn.

  I leaned down beside her moving to the side the few strands of hair that were matted and sweated out across her caramel face. The features that I was once attracted to were hidden underneath the streams of makeup that were smeared across her cheeks.

  She was breathing lightly and starting to make subtle movements, letting me know she was coming out of the slight blackout. I’d beaten the spirit out of her, and she didn’t have any strength to move.

  I ran my rough hands over her body, gripping her titties and pinching her nipples. “Damn, you feel so good.” I continued trailing my fingers down her stomach until reaching her thick thighs. I wanted to indulge so badly, but they were covered in hickeys, which rekindled the rage I’d tried bottling inside.

  “Why’d you have to give my pussy to another man? Why’d you go against the grain and break my rules?”

  I couldn’t resist the urge, so I spread her legs, then placed my head right up on her coochie. Not only did she reek of another man, but she also reeked of his spit and her cum as well. I oughta split her pussy slit open even farther. I stared at her fat cat resisting the urge. Another dude being inside of her was a direct violation to me.

  I hopped up and lit a blunt, knowing I needed to take my go-hard down from a million. After a few puffs and sniffing her foul-smelling vagina again, I heard her whine and sob.

  I drew her a scalding hot tub of water with her favorite lavender bubble bath. Then I poured damn near half a bottle of vinegar in with it to combat ole boy’s tainted smell. She was lucky I didn’t pour a bottle of bleach in the damn water too.

  I took a second to get control over myself before getting her up ’cause I knew she was gonna rise up swinging. I took a sloppy sip of Hennessey straight from the bottle, not bothering to wipe the spillage, and tossed the bottle onto the floor. I didn’t care about the mess. She could clean that shit up later.

  “It’s bath time.” I swooped her up into my arms.

  “Get your hands off of me, Spade! I hate you!” She swung and hit me upside the head.

  “You don’t hate me. And you ain’t got nobody else,” I had to remind her. I was trying to be nice, but she needed her memory jogged—her brother was serving a bid on my behalf, and her moms was a stone-cold junkie. “I’m the end all in your life. You better respect that.”

  “I know, and you don’t even love me.” She continued trying to fight me off. “You treat me like I ain’t shit ’cause I ain’t got nobody else,” she screamed
, crying hysterically. “I miss my brother so much. . . .” Jakia’s voice trailed off.

  “Fuck yo’ brother. He don’t run shit from the inside. Hell, even if he step foot outside of that jail, he won’t be calling a shot inside of this house.” I stopped dead in my tracks and gripped her body tightly. “And you better hope you make it that long. If you keep talking crazy, your chances are looking slim to none.”

  “Aaah! Oh my God!”

  I didn’t give her a chance to react before I dipped her body into the steaming hot tub of water. She leaped from the sweltering temperature and began blistering, but I forced her back down by her shoulders, making her take the pain.

  She needed to hurt just as much physically as I was feeling emotionally. Jakia needed to be taught a lesson about fucking me over—especially if I didn’t want it to happen again. I’m sure after this that I’d reclaim my throne as the king dick in her life.

  “Please, can you at least turn the cold water on?” she stuttered, damn near boiling to death.

  “The more you resist, the worse this will be for you. I can’t make love to my woman if she’s reeking of another nigga’s musty balls. Bitch, be still.” I turned the cold water on some, then started to wash her body roughly from top to bottom. I Brillo Pad-scrubbed her vagina until she twitched aggressively and yelled out in pain.

  “Can you take me out of here?” Jakia’s whispers could hardly be heard. Her head was dropping to the side as I held her up by her underarms to keep her from sliding all the way in.

  I pulled her out and carried her to the bed, drying and putting lotion on her body at the same time. Then I dropped my jeans, jacked my dick, and then propped her delicious ass up to take my meat. “Whose pussy is this?”

  “Yours,” she screamed at me plunging into her.

  “What did you say?” I dug deeper inside of her, letting her know that answer wasn’t sufficient enough.

  “It’s yours, daddy; this pussy belongs to you.”

  “That’s right, baby girl. And do you love your daddy?”

  “Yes, you know I do.” She was still talking low, but the sobs were now moans of passion. “I love you so damn much it hurts.” She pushed herself back up on me, then clenched her walls down tight around my dick making me twitch.

  Don’t let her get control. Nah, this ain’t that. It ain’t never gonna be that. I abruptly pulled my dick out of her wetness and felt myself jerk from missing out on the goodness. Then I began taunting her. “You want daddy’s dick? Huh, baby girl?”

  I pushed her down by the arch of her back, then began flicking the tip of my dick over her clit making her booty tighten around my shaft. I was about ready to explode because it felt way too amazing.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Jakia was screaming and backing her booty up, throwing it on me just the way I wanted her to.

  Whap!

  I slapped her across her behind. “Are you gonna step outside of this house again?”

  “No, daddy, I promise,” she cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

  Yeah, she likes this kinky shit too.

  Whap!

  “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?” I spread her cheeks, ran my finger down her slit, and then tickled her hole.

  “I did, I swear to God I’ve learned my lesson.” Jakia was horrified of anal sex, so I knew if at no other point in me punishing her, I had her full attention now.

  Whap!

  “You promise? And think before you answer because you know I hate liars, those that betray me, and disloyal bastards.” I leaned down whispering into her ear in a cold tone. Every word out of my mouth was serious.

  “I promise, Spade, and I’m sorry. It’ll never ever happen again.”

  “Just one more thing.” I rubbed her smooth skin with my fingertips.

  “Yes, daddy,” she panted.

  “I made you bitch. You belong to me!” I ripped her hole open with my fat mushroom tip.

  “Stop! Oh God,” she screamed until I cupped her mouth shut.

  I wasn’t getting ready to stop or let up. She needed to feel my meat going up in her raw dog in every hole on her body. I was getting ready to set the record for the number of nuts I could bust.

  I’d already taken another pill, so I was ready to go all night. When she calmed down and fell into my stroke, we both enjoyed a session of anal sex before passing out. I got to bust three fat ones, so I felt all the way satisfied.

  Rocko

  “Are you sure ole boy is dead? If you left that nigga blinking, he’s gonna fight through it and have all our heads on a platter. He’s the type of nigga who’ll snitch in a heartbeat.” Lezlee rolled over onto my chest with a messy head of curls.

  “C’mon now, baby, you already know the answer to that.” I stroked the fine baby hairs lying across her face. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over that. I ain’t the type of nigga that leaves clues and shit.”

  “I’m gonna try. At least I can go wild in the mall to keep my mind at ease.”

  “Hey, ma, on that note—let me school you right quick. You’ve gotta play the low-profile role for a while until you find a new gig. Don’t tell ya friends shit. And don’t make no erratic, large purchases you can’t back up with real income. If that cat was as high profile as you claim he was—and I do mean was—you’ll have some heat behind this if you stand out too much. Ya dig?” I’d just laid a heavy amount of information on Lezlee. It was crucial for her to follow the rules.

  “Well, can I lie up here with you till all of this blows over?” She looked deflated not to shop, then snuggled back up to my hairy chest.

  “Naw, baby girl, I can’t have that. This ain’t no home.” It might’ve sounded like a blow off, but it wasn’t. I’d just grilled her guts on an air mattress in an empty room that had a box-TV set on top of a milk crate.

  The few run-down kicks I rocked were lined up across the wall alongside the only five outfits I put into rotation while here. Like I said earlier to these cats, I had to seem like the average run-down bum.

  “Weeell,” she dragged the word along, “we’ve both got twelve Gs apiece, so that’s at least twenty-four total to disappear. That way, neither one us gotta worry about nobody on our trail.” Her sweet voice sounded sincere, and truth be told, I wanted to get caught up with the fantasy she was selling herself.

  “I was thinking I’d put your hot ass on a flight back to Chicago and catch up with you once everything blows over. This is serious, Lezz.”

  “I’m serious. We’ve got cash, Rocko—and I can make your wildest fantasy come true.” She ran her fingers up and down my chest, down to the pubes, and all around my dick and balls. “Do you need a reminder of my magic?”

  “Gon’ and stroke daddy over. Let’s see if him and my brain can come to an agreement on what to do.”

  I didn’t need a reminder of how baby girl could lock her lips around my dick. Lezlee was working with the whole package—ass, titties, and a warm pussy that welcomed my manhood each and every time.

  I couldn’t wife her up or even play the constant sidepiece nigga she might’ve accepted. Not only did I stay on my grind in the streets, but also Spade and Jakia’s relationship taught me that it was spawned from the devil.

  Until I got up out of the game, I wouldn’t be locking no bitch down, and I wasn’t giving no bitch the key to me—especially if they were about that life. When my day was over and my last nigga was robbed and left for dead, I’d bow out to a quiet, innocent woman who led a boring life.

  7

  Iesha—From the Casino

  I walked down the casino hotel’s hallway looking for room number 1253, ready to turn this trick out for every dollar he was willing to spend. I’d already made a night’s worth not doing much but my job and flirting with him.

  So, I could only imagine what type of damage I could do at the mall later off his generous tips on the late-night level. I was dressed in the skimpiest, but the most expensive-looking outfit I had in my closet—which was handed d
own from my last ex-best female friend.

  The hot-pink spandex minidress barely went over my booty as I intentionally wore it to turn heads. Accessorizing the right way to make females hate me too, I rocked my dress with a pair of black Chuck Taylors and a denim jacket being a trendsetter.

  After taking a few selfies and full-body shots, I was feeling myself, and you couldn’t tell me I wasn’t shit. My curves were working overtime in my favor—finally.

  I tapped on the door, then waited a few seconds before knocking again. It was slightly ajar, but I suspected he left it like that for me since it was close to our scheduled meet up time.

  After waiting for what I felt was too long, accompanied by the feeling of something being weirdly wrong, I pushed the door open and screamed to the same God I just thanked for sending a moneyman into my life.

  The luxury hotel room I was planning to trick in was completely ransacked. Not only did my nose instantly start burning from the reeking smell of bleach, but also my olfactory sense kicked in marking the smell of death.

  Living in the D, I saw dead bodies dumped or knocked off in the abandoned buildings that were in between our houses. This might’ve been nothing new, but it was most certainly shocking. Murders didn’t happen on state-patrolled grounds—obviously until now.

  My feet finally moved—straight across the room toward the phone, and I called the front desk for security. As I waited, I took another glance around at all his clothes, personal items, and furniture within the room that was flipped over. He was robbed. I felt bad. But I felt worse I didn’t get here in enough time.

  “Hotel security! Ma’am—step back from the body.” More than one security guard of the four-star casino-hotel screamed out as they rushed in.