Kiss the Ring (13 page)

“Nah, you good. Once was enough to show and prove,” he said, rolling across the dusty floor in the chair to pick up the bottle of Henny sitting atop the large safe.

“Prove what?”

Bas uncapped the bottle and took a sip directly from it, his eyes locked on her as he swallowed the brown liquor. “That you can be trusted,” he said, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hands.

Just like I thought.

“You can trust me, Bas,” she said softly, cutting her eyes up at him with a smile.

He shrugged before he stood up and walked over to pour more liquor into her cup. “Nothing happens that I don't want to happen,” he said.

Including murders?

She tilted her head back to look up at him.

“If I told Viv not to fuck with you like that no more she wouldn't,” Bas said, still standing over her until his height cast her in the shadow.

Naeema couldn't front. She felt afraid. Right then she realized it was silly of her to be clear as fuck that he wasn't to be trusted but then move about them with no weapon. What if something—
anything
—happened and he flipped on her? It was risky to get caught with the gun but even riskier to hear people keep saying his temper was legendary and trust he would never flip on her. She decided right then not to be around him without her piece.

“Why would you do that?” she asked.

He laughed and backed away from her. “My bad. I said that shit fucked up, yo,” he said, turning with one hand in his pocket, pulling his khakis tighter across his firm ass.

Naeema patted the front of her hair where the glue she used to attach her cheap reddish brown lace-front wig was irritating her skin.

“I meant that I like your look. I told Viv to keep bringing you around,” he said, turning to flop back down in the chair. It rolled back a bit from the sudden weight of his frame.

Where is the rest of the crew?

Where the fuck is this shit leading?

What the fuck does he want?

“For real?” she said, keeping her voice light and flirty.

He nodded and put the bottle of liquor on the faded carpet by his feet before he pressed his elbows on top of his knees. “You ain't what you seem, Queen . . . just like me,” he said, his eyes locked on her.

Oh shit.

Naeema forced herself not to flinch, blink, or break his stare.

“I been watching you. You come off stupid but there ain't shit dumb about you, Queen,” Bas reached in his pocket and pulled out a small vial of cocaine. He looked at it and shook it to make the powder fly inside the glass but then he shook his head and pushed it back into his pocket.

“I like it but I don't love it,” he said when he saw her eyes dip to take in that move.

“What do you love?” she asked.

“Money,” he answered without hesitation.

Naeema pretended to sip the liquor. She was trying not to get faded in case he flipped and she had to try to fight her way out.

Bas turned and looked at the small screen, some two-hundred-dollar setup from Walmart or Target or something. “What do you love?” he asked, as he kept studying the movement of trees on the screen.

Naeema earned time by taking another fake sip. He was in a talkative mood and she wanted to lead him in the right direction. Discover something. Any fucking thing. “I love loyalty,” she said.

Bas slowly turned in the chair to eye her as he nodded his head in agreement. “And money can't buy it. Best believe that shit,” he said with a tinge of anger in his husky voice.

“Sometimes when I find out somebody I trusted stabbed me in the back, I be wanting to fuck shit up,” she said, looking away and pretending to be embarrassed by her words. He'd called her out on her charade of playing dumb but she was sticking to it. This shit was poker and he could be bluffing to force her to show her hand. Fuck that, no haps, motherfucka.

“Sometimes people got to be dealt with. Period,” Bas said, his voice as cold as the iciness of his stare.

“You ever had to deal wit' somebody?” she asked.

Did you kill my son, motherfucker?

“Why?” he asked.

She shrugged and looked apologetic, feeling her fear of him return as he eyed her. “We was just conversatin'.”

“Yeah, but keep it about shit that concerns you,” he said.

“I'm sorry,” she said as Queen, making her voice soft and repentant.

Man, triple fuck you.

Bas turned back toward the surveillance TV and then stood up to disappear through the office door. Naeema felt relief that they were no longer alone. She turned to fling the rest of the liquor in her cup in an empty corner before ramming the plastic cup inside the fake Coach crossover bag she wore. As always she was mindful of not leaving her fingerprints or any DNA behind at the church. If the police ever caught up with the crew for their crimes she didn't want them to trace any evidence foolishly left behind back to her.

Soon voices led the way for the rest of the crew to walk into the office behind Bas's tall figure. Naeema eyed each of them as they walked in laughing and joking with each other.
Red looked ready as ever to kick ass with his muscled arms showing in a tight black wifebeater and black Dickies uniform pants. Vivica was right behind him in a tank top and jean skirt, her bright pink hair now in a fresh bob. Nelson, like Brandon, didn't belong in their company at only nineteen, but there he was climbing his short, thick body up onto the safe to sit with a forever-present blunt blazed between lips darkened by chronic use of chronic. Hammer strolled in last in a plaid shirt and a new pair of dark denims with matching Jordans.

She eyed his boyishly handsome face marred by three red puffy scratches on his cheek. “Damn, Hammer, what cat fucked you up?” she asked.

He shrugged and smiled, forever in a good mood. “Pussy problems,” he said, grabbing a cup and pouring himself a double shot of the Henny.

Hammer stayed in the midst of pussy problems because he couldn't stay out of the middle of so many pussies. He already had six kids by five babymamas that he was still fucking, plus whatever new cutie caught his eye. His ass was always in some drama.

Looking down into the brown liquid of her cup, she swirled it until the center looked like the eye of a hurricane. She wanted to get this process moving. Find out just what motivation any of them had for killing her son and deal with the culprit. She wanted her life back and her son's death avenged. She wanted out of their midst.

So Naeema decided to shake shit up a little bit. “I never met him but Viv told me a little bit about him and he seemed like a cool kid so I'm'a pour a little Henny out for y'all friend
that's not here. For Brandon,” she said, keeping her voice light as she poured a little liquor onto the carpet.

The room got quiet as shit, Naeema pretended to take another sip but eyed everybody over the rim of the cup. They all shifted their eyes to Bas, who was looking at her with a deep frown that made his brows pull together.

“I was just sayin' how much we all missed him,” Viv explained, shifting her eyes to Red for his forgiveness.

He just looked away from her. It was clear he had no forgiveness to give.

Naeema's heart was beating fast but she played it cool. “What? What I say? I said something wrong?” she asked, faking like she was concerned.

Fuck all of
'
em.

Bas picked up the bottle of liquor and threw it against the wall with a vengeance. The glass shattered and the liquor did a wall slide down the fake wood paneling. He turned and walked out of the office with long-ass strides.

“Bas . . . wait,” Naeema called out, standing up like she was going to follow him.

Vivica reached out and held her wrist. “Don't fuck wit' that,” she warned with a shake of her head.

“My bad. I thought he was y'all friend. Wasn't he cool with y'all?” she asked as her eyes locked on everybody.

Hammer released a breath and shook his head, looking the most serious she had ever seen him.

Nelson jumped down off the safe and left the room.

Red walked over to a small cabinet in the corner and pulled out a fresh bottle of Henny.

“Bas don't let us talk about him but yeah, he was our
friend . . . but don't fuck with that no more, Queen. Like for real, for real,” Vivica said, gripping Naeema's wrist tighter to get her attention.

She looked down at her.

“Okay?” Vivica asked, her eyes serious.

“Okay,” she agreed.

What the fuck is that shit all about?

8

“T
hat's the best you got, Rico?”

The naked teenage girl spread eagle on the bed and the thin dark-skinned dude with his head buried between her thighs both looked over at Naeema as she leaned against the wall of the motel room with a key in one hand and a billy club in the other. It wasn't hard to get the key when she lied and told the desk attendant that the girl in Room 308 was an underage runaway and she was the girl's older sister ready to call the police.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked.

The girl covered her face and upper body with a flat pillow as Naeema walked up to tap Rico's flat ass with the billy cub.

WHAP. WHAP.

“Up and at 'em, lover boy,” she said, picking up his T-shirt on the floor to toss at his crotch when he turned over and sat up on the edge of the bed.

“So . . . why'd you do it?” she asked, pulling out the stained chair in front of the desk to sit down in front of him.

His eyes darted down to his jeans and Naeema pressed the tip of the billy club between his legs as she reached for his jeans with her free hand. A .357 fell to the floor with a solid THUD.

Naeema looked over at him. “Damn . . . you was gonna shoot me, yo?” she asked, sitting the club on her lap long enough to remove the magazine and slide it into her other back pocket. “I promise you it's not
even
that serious.”

Rico lunged for her and landed a blow against her chin that caused her to sway sideways out of the chair and to the floor.

“You short-dick motherfucker,” she said, tasting blood in her mouth. She raised her leg and kicked him first in his swinging nuts and then solidly in the center of his chest, sending him flying back onto the bed.

His boo cried out.

“Shut
the
fuck up,” Naeema snapped as she jumped to her feet.

Bzzzzzzz
.

She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket as she eyed the stocky dude straight mean mugging. “Hello,” she said.

“Where you at, Queen?” Vivica asked.

Naeema heard the steady bass of music and loud voices in the background. “I'm on the way. Be there in ten,” she said.

“That's right. Turn down for what!”

Shaking her head, Naeema ended the call and pushed the phone into the back pocket of her low-slung jeans. “Since you can't get your act right on, then let's do this your way, young boy,” she said, stepping over to nudge his forehead with her index finger.

Knuckling up, she delivered two quick blows to his nose and then one to his stomach. He buckled over with an
umph
.

BAM.

Another blow to the back of his head.

He rolled off the bed to the ground.

THUD.

A kick to his side.

“You don't put your hands on a female. That's a bitch move,” she said, squatting down to press her finger against his forehead again as blood began to seep from his nose and from a small split in his lip.

“I just wanted to ask you a question and you had to make this whole interaction go to the left,” she said.

“Who are you?” he asked, still with too much attitude for someone who just got fucked up.

“Why did you set Brandon Mack up to be killed?” she asked.

“Who?” he asked.

Naeema rolled her eyes before locking them on his face again. “The kid Brianna was talking to, the one that whooped your ass at school,” she explained.

“Who is Brianna?” his boo thang asked.

Rico tilted his head back to look at her. “The little shawty I had way before you, Pilar—”

“Oh, 'cause—”

“Eh eh. Hell no. Are you two motherfuckers kiddin' me?” Naeema asked, her face incredulous as she tapped the gun in her hand. She pointed the nozzle toward her. “Pi-lar . . . Piper . . . Pipsqueak. Who gives a fuck? Shut the fuck up. Rico, turn your little ass this way and answer my question.”

“I'm not trying to go to jail behind no bitch and behind no fight,” he said. “And he didn't whup my ass, he held his own for a young kid. That's all. And that's too different things, shawty. You can ask anybody 'round the school. It ain't even go down like that.”

Naeema kept her eyes trained on him and his gaze never wavered from hers. “So what was on WorldStar?”