by Tiana Laveen
“Are you coming home with me?” he asked with a smirk.
“Nope.”
“Am I coming home with you?”
“Nope.”
“So we’re staying here and doing it in front of all these people? If you want to be freaky like that, I guess it’s fine.”
“Gutter, stop!” She chortled. “It looks like party time is over for me. I have to work. Just got the text to come in… I can’t believe the timing. I told you a while ago that every now and again, I’ll get that early morning call or text. This is it.”
“It’s okay, I understand. We’re both busy people.” He bent down and kissed her forehead. “So, when is a good time to call you later, baby? Maybe we can grab a bite to eat tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that might work. I don’t know how long this is going to take though, but dinner should be fine. Everything should be squared away by then. I have a lot of paperwork to fill out, so that takes time, too. I’ll call you and follow up.”
“That works for me.” Cupping her neck, he pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. Her heart beat damn near out of her chest as he ravished her with his all-consuming heat. She shuddered when he reached around, shoved her poncho out of the way, and gave her left ass cheek a hard squeeze.
“Did you like the song?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes. It’s typical Eminem, and I enjoy so much of his work. You sounded great by the way, too.”
“Thank you.” He slowly slipped his hand away from her rear-end and stood straight. “So, yeah, let me get Jason or somebody to take you three to your homes, and—”
“Well, that’s going to be out of the way, Gutter. Babette is in in Queens, Aria is in Brooklyn, and—”
“It’s no problem at all.” He glanced at his Rolex watch. “Let’s tentatively plan for dinner tomorrow night. We can go wherever you like, but there’s this one place that has amazing Italian food that I love, so if that’s somethin’ you want to get into, think about it and let me know.” She nodded. He looked her up and down, yearning in his dark eyes. “You play hard to get, but I’m getting inside those panties soon, girl. That’s a promise, Promise.” He winked and began to walk away.
“No, you’re not. Dream on, and keep your mind out the gutter, Gutter!” She chuckled as her friends approached her, talking amongst themselves.
It wasn’t long before another guy they had seen at the concert approached them, offering to get them all home. Gutter seemed to be in a serious discussion with his manager. She could smell him all over—his cologne and natural scent. She loved it. She liked him. She craved it.
I’m in trouble… big trouble.
Though she dated on and off, she hadn’t been in a committed relationship in quite some time. She’d sworn off men after the whole Daniel debacle, content just being alone. But now, she was developing feelings for someone the entire world loved. It felt overwhelming. Consuming. Beautiful and scary, all at once.
This man was sending her good morning text messages, giving her attention and staying on the phone with her when he was supposed to be working. He’d sent flowers to her job and made her feel like she was the center of his world every time they conversed. He was simply amazing. Beautifully flawed. Beautifully talented. Beautifully rough and abundant with qualities so special and rare, they should be bottled and placed in a museum.
She and her friends got inside a red Camry and enjoyed the peaceful ride home while Gutter’s music played on low volume. When the man pulled up to her apartment building, she quickly said goodbye to her friends and urged them to send her texts when they were home. He parked, got out of the car, and opened her door.
After helping her exit the vehicle, the guy smiled at her and said, “I’ll wait right here until I see you get inside.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. The door is right here.”
“Nah, even if I didn’t want to, I would because Gutter asked me to. He wants to make sure you’re safe and sound.”
Her chest filled with warmth at knowing she was so cared for. She waved one more time to her friends, then approached her door, butterflies in her stomach. As soon as she got in, she’d get a pot of coffee started. It was going to be a long day ahead, but it had been a spectacular night…
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Shattered Glass
…Three weeks later
“I enjoyed it, too,” Promise whispered on the phone. Gutter sat in his truck parked on the street, wrapping up the conversation with his latest and great obsession. “You were more entertaining than the movie though,” she quipped.
“Not entertaining enough to make it to the after-show.”
“Zake, stop!” She laughed. “You know I like you… it’s not that. I want you, too. I do. I’m just enjoying getting to know you.”
He shrugged and saw that his manager was calling.
“I have needs, but I think you’re worth it.”
“You mean to tell me you’re not sleeping with anyone else?” She burst out laughing. “I know that’s a lie! You must think I’m stupid.”
“Lady, believe whatever you want. If I was getting it from other women, I’d say so. We’re not committed or anything like that. It’s not like I’d be cheating.”
“Then why aren’t you getting it from someone else while you wait for the Corpse Bride?”
This woman… “I already told you: I think you’re worth it. It’s like, when we do get together, it’ll be even better. You can believe whatever you want about this. If you think I’m lying, fine, I can’t control that, but I know the truth.” He saw that his manager left a voicemail. “Hey baby, I need to contact Will and get going. Let me call you again when I get home.”
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll be up for a while. I brought some work home.”
“Okay, cool.” He disconnected the call and listened to Will’s voicemail about a show in Jersey, as well as a contract that needed to be canceled. He immediately called him back, and after speaking in depth, he felt exhaustion claim him. It’s been a long ass day.
“Yeah, I just left Chayanne’s. We’ll get together next week and follow up,” Gutter explained to Will, as he pulled out of the parking space. He cracked the window to allow the fresh breeze in. It had rained earlier in the day, giving the air that distinct scent he so loved. “She’s working with a couple artists, too. It’s scheduled.”
“Okay, good. How’s your mother? You haven’t said much lately.”
He approached Myrtle Avenue in Bed-Stuy. Officially called Bedford Stuyvesant if you weren’t local. He rolled the window back up and kept navigating forward.
“There’s not a whole lot to say. Things aren’t getting better if that’s what you mean. No miracles. No water being turned to wine. She’s as good as can be expected.” Gutter shrugged. He’d begun to hate that question after hearing it at least a half dozen times a day.
“Okay. Well, give me a call sometime in the next couple of days. We’ve gotta get you out to Jersey.”
“I know. I’ll call you later.” Gutter disconnected the line and turned up his music to full volume to hear Olivia Rodrigo’s, ‘Good 4 U.’ He wanted each note to seep inside of him, putting him in the zone for a few moments.
A group of five guys were crossing the street, their gait slow as if they were walking on the moon. Spaced-out turtles on the crosswalk. What the fuck are they doing? Why don’t they get outta the street?
Under the streetlights, one of the men seemed to have shimmering eyes, reminding him of a wolf hunched down low under the glow of the full moon. Instead of a moon, these were lamps on the corner, and red and white beams of light from a nearby liquor store with barred windows.
A tingling sensation formed along the back of his neck. In a flash, they surrounded his car. Shadows cast by the humans blocked the light, and dancing rays of darkness covered part of his windshield as they seemed to be making a fence of some sort, blocking his way. Like preying demons. Someone banged on the hood of his car with both fists, whi
le another was trying his damnedest to get the passenger’s side door open.
“Get tha fuck away from my car before I run you all over! MOVE!”
The man he was yelling at was close to the driver’s side door. The guy looked him over, as if recognizing him. A twisted grin cracked his face.
Two of the men began to hop around, and another kicked the back. Gutter revved his engine, but then noticed the cars coming from the opposite direction. If I slam on the gas and hit ’em, I could end up killing somebody else, too. There’s no way I can just run this light, floor it, and not run into someone else. SHIT! I don’t need this tonight! FUCK!
Noise reached his ears from every damn where now: cracking, scratching chased by curses from the crowd around him. Mocking laughter. The patter of rain. A few cars passing by seemed to slow down for a spell to size up the scene, then dash off at full speed, tires squealing. The one that stood by his window pulled a gun.
“GET OUT THA CAR, MOTHAFUCKA!”
Gutter quickly undid his seatbelt and raised his hands in faux surrender. He bent down, as low as he could, when he noticed the finger on the trigger. The loud bang rent the air, and his ears rang as a cold rush of air hit him, along with the rain and scattering glass. The fucker tried to reach inside the broken window to open the door. A burst of adrenaline filled his veins like poison when more shots rang out. On fire, he grabbed his Ruger GP100 from beneath his driver’s seat. He somehow found himself on his feet, facing the men and shooting at everything that moved.
He felt a sharp pain at his wrist, but he pushed through, his eyes glued to the two fuckers who hit the wet street. Red splatter gushed forth, their bodies appearing almost electric against the dark backdrop of the street. The other three ran off into the night, but at least one of them was shot badly, as a trail of blood was visible on the road. In the distance, The Notorious B.I.G.’s, ‘One More Chance’ played from a car driving past. The music eventually faded away like a drop of blood in an ocean. Then sirens. People looking. The rain began to fall faster and harder.
“Yo, son, you all right?!” an older Black man asked, stumbling out of the liquor store. His bloodshot eyes peered into Gutter’s.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m calling the police.”
The man looked out into the street and saw the two men down. One had a leg spasming and the other was dead still, his eyes open.
“They tried to carjack and rob his ass!” someone screamed from across the street.
“Man… you been shot.” The old man tucked his liquor bottle in the inside of his jacket. “We gotta get you to the hospital.”
Gutter looked down at his arm. The sleeve of his light gray hoodie was splattered with blood, and there was a hole in it. Pain radiated from that area. Gutter leaned against his car, struggling to stay on his feet. Gripping his phone, he steadied himself.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“Some guys just tried to carjack me. I defended myself, and they must’ve got me too. Send help…”
I’ve seen over a thousand dead bodies. Decapitated ones, or others with their physiques cut into tiny pieces in the effort to bury a crime and hide an identity. I’ve seen dead children; those are often the worst. But now, I see that Mama was right. Nothing makes you realize how much you care about someone until you see them after they’ve faced death head on…
Promise sat down next to the hospital bed, holding Gutter’s hand. He finally woke up from his nap. He’d been sedated during the surgery and was now coming to. His father, whom she’d barely had time to say hello to, had just left the room, phone in hand. The man was big and tall like Gutter. They even sounded a bit alike, and both had an intimidating presence.
“They’re going to release me in two days.” He sighed. Shirtless, he lay with his left side bandaged.
“I have no idea how you survived this, Gutter. You must have angels working overtime on your behalf.” She touched the side of her face, then his. He’s okay. He’s okay… she repeated to herself over and over.
“They said the bullet broke into pieces when it hit the glass, and that one of those pieces ricocheted. It got me right below my ribcage but wasn’t deep and didn’t hit any organs. I had a little fragment in my wrist, too.”
“I prayed all the way over here. I couldn’t believe you called me with a bullet still inside you. You sounded so calm.”
Their eyes locked. He blinked a couple of times, looking rather listless as he stared up at the ceiling. “It’s crazy how it went down. Point blank range. I’ll be okay, though.” He struggled to sit up, so she got to her feet and helped him.
“Thank you.” He reached for a cup of water with a lid and a straw.
“So, who were these assholes, Gutter? Do you know?”
He swallowed hard, his throat visibly constricted as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“I have no idea who they were. One is dead, the other on life support, according to Will. He’s been talking to the police and watching the news. They caught a third one because he was bleeding from the back and came to the hospital. The other two are at large, the cop said.”
“Do you think they knew who you were?”
“The one with the gun definitely did after he came up close. I know that sense of recognition.” She nodded in understanding. “He thought he’d hit the jackpot. There’s no doubt in my mind they were gonna take my ride, rob and kill me. What’s crazy is that there’s a fucking tracker on my truck, and it can’t be taken off or the car won’t start, so they would’ve been busted either way. I’m so fuckin’ sick of motherfuckers!”
“Gutter, calm down…” She patted his arm. “I don’t want you working yourself up. You need to rest.” He fell back onto the pillows, chest heaving, looking utterly exhausted. Even in his state of pain and the harrowing night he’d had, he looked beautiful. A survivor. He wasn’t going down without a fight. They picked the wrong one, that’s for sure. Damn. “I think I heard your father say right before he left that they have video footage.”
“Yeah, there was a liquor store that I think the police said caught some of it. I’ve been at that place a million times, but it’s a rough part of town. I guess I knew some shit was going to pop off before they even approached me—as soon as I saw them. You know how you just get a feeling?”
“Yes. It’s like a gnawing in the pit of your gut.”
“Yeah, like that. You know that whatever happens, you’re gonna have to take action. Dead some shit. I would’ve run their asses over if I didn’t have to worry about killin’ someone else. Someone innocent. The way the streets are set up at that intersection, you have to take a sharp left or right, or go straight, and there was traffic from all directions. So, I just had to rip on ’em.”
Even in the midst of facing death, he thought enough about others, weighed his options. I have never met a man like this in my life…
“You’re a hero, and people don’t even know it.”
He shrugged.
“This is life, ya know? It’s fucked up. People see somethin’ they want, think they should have it and you shouldn’t, so they try and take that shit no matter the cost. This is the bullshit everyone has to deal with.”
“Not everyone. I have never had someone shove a gun in my face, Gutter. I can’t imagine how I’d feel. Yeah, I know people who have been in your shoes, but I just thank God you’re all right, and I haven’t experienced this personally. I’ve had someone try to yank my purse away, but that is it.”
He glanced briefly at the drawn mustard yellow curtains, then rested his gaze on the television that was on mute.
“You make it seem like you get jacked every day.” She crossed her arms and laughed. He offered a slight smile in return.
“Well, this isn’t the first time this shit has happened to me, so I stay strapped. It is what it is.” Gutter appeared rather unmoved by the whole thing. It didn’t shock him the way she imagined it would have.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. Besides, you and
I were just getting started.” She got up once again, leaned down, and pressed her lips to his. His deep, guttural groan rumbled throughout her body, like a train entering her and sounding off the whistle. Wrapping his right arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, demanding more. Time disappeared as the passion ran deep, setting her body on fire. Her pussy tightened as he ran his hand over her blouse, caressing and massaging her breasts. The sound of heavy footsteps snatched her out of her pleasure and she pulled away fast, standing straight, clearing her throat and fixing her shirt.
Gutter’s father came in and lobbed his gaze between the two of them. He was terribly hard to read, and it felt unnerving. The man’s blue eyes hooded.
“Zake, the doc said your x-rays look good.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
Zake’s father took a deep breath, then shot her a glance. She found herself staring right back at him. Her heart began to beat faster. Something about this guy was terrifying, and yet, he appeared wise at the same time… So damn hard to explain.
“What’s your name again, honey?”
“Promise.”
“Promise, do ya mind if I speak to my son alone for a minute?”
“Oh sure, yes, of course.” She grabbed her purse from the back of the chair and made her way out of the hospital room. As she stood in the hallway glancing at the nurses’ station, she could only hear their muttered voices, but she distinctly heard his father mention his mother. Gutter’s tone sounded perturbed, but she had no idea what he was saying back. A few minutes later, the big man came out of the room, his baseball cap balled up in his big hands.
“You can go on back in, sweetheart.” And then, the guy sailed on by toward the elevators. She made her way back into Gutter’s room to find the bastard messing around on his phone.
“Gutter, you’re supposed to be resting. Give me that phone!” She laughed as she lunged for it.
“Wait, hold up. You should see this shit!” He gave her the phone and started drinking his water again. She held the device and began reading some of the most insane comments…