Sex in the Hood Saga (39 page)

Reba and another Slut, Baby Blue, sashayed amongst the mostly black clientele of Northland Mall.

“Girl, admit it,” Baby Blue said as a half dozen teens stopped in their tracks and watched the women switch on high heels, “you a hater.”

In a skintight, denim bodysuit, Reba led her best friend into their favorite leather shop that sold the most blingin' styles in D-town. She was treating her girl to an impromptu shopping spree, thanks to the thick stack of Benjamins that Gerard gave up after their sexy splash in the jacuzzi last night.

Reba's whole body felt tingly, because by the end of the day, Baby Blue would be her partner to move up and out of hoin' and into positions of power.

“I don't hate, I plan.” Reba stopped at a rack and fingered an orange opalescent leather mini-skirt with cubic zirconia studs. She snatched it and its matching cropped jacket. “I know what I want. I'm gon' get it. An' ain't nobody gon' stop me.”

She pointed a long, acrylic nail toward the chick who wore a store name badge but looked as uninterested as a gay dude in Victoria's Secret.

Reba ordered, without making eye contact. “Sweetheart, get me the matching boots in size seven. In orange and black.” As her expert shopping vision zoomed in on the sexiest shirts, pants, and dresses, Reba thought about all the steps she'd have to make for her plan to become reality. She was already working every angle.

Reba held up some low cut Baby Phat jeans with a sparkly pattern on the butt. “Ooohh, girl, these would hug your cute little ass just right.” She handed them to Baby Blue, who smiled. “And take that bustier top too.”

Baby Blue's eyes got big, making her blue contacts look extra bright against the whites of her eyes. Her long, sandy blond weave hung straight over the fronts of her shoulders in two ponytails. Her lips as full and red as Betty Boop's lips on her tight black T-shirt pulled back as she smiled. “Reba, since when does Christmas come in September? You act like you hit the lottery.”

“I'm 'bout to,” Reba said, tapping the Louis Vuitton bag over her shoulder. She glimpsed her phone in a side pouch; in a minute her partner would be calling to check the progress of her recruitment for Plan B. “Yeah, we can both hit the lottery if you help me.”

“How?”

“Aw, shit!” Reba exclaimed, striding quickly on her high heeled sandals to pick up a royal blue crochet dress. “Ain't you got a bikini like this? Girl, wear that under this dress. You'd have niggas lickin' yo' toes.”

“I already do.” BabyBlue giggled.

“Ain't that the truth,” Reba said. “I heard The Queen turnt you out the otha night. Why you didn't tell me? Ain't I still yo' girl?”

Baby Blue turned away like she was looking at the baby T-shirts against the wall. “It ain't somethin' I like to talk about.”

“How you gon' go from bein' the freak of the week, puttin' all kin' o' stuff up in yo' pussy while you on stage at The Garage, and now you shy wit' yo' girl?”

Baby Blue's cheeks turned red. She stepped to a nearby table displaying a rainbow of lace thongs. She chose three, each a different shade of blue. “I hit the jackpot. These are my favorite brand. This stretch material don't cut into my crack like the regular ones.”

“You ain't hearin' me,” Reba said playfully to hide her pissed off feelings inside. Maybe Baby Blue wouldn't be as easy to convince as she thought. “Knight and his snowball got you on some kinda gag order?”

Baby Blue snapped. “Don't ask me what I do wit' them. Just 'cause you saw her eat my pussy last year at Duke's birthday party don't mean somethin's goin' on now.”

“Yeeeeaaah . . . right!” Reba flitted toward a fur bikini in the corner. “Girl, the yacht party comin' up. Check this out!”

“I like the blue leather one better,” Baby Blue said, picking up a thong bikini with turquoise beads sewn in star patterns over the nipples. “I can wear this in the Sexiest Slut contest during The Games. Girl, if I win all that money, I can seriously think about retiring.”

“That's chump change compared to what you can make wit' me,” Reba said.

Baby Blue laughed. “I wouldn't call a hundred grand chump change. Plus, last year's winner impressed one of the celebrity judges so much, he married her. Now she lives in some mansion in New Jersey.”

Reba fingered the blue leather bikini and said, “Dream on, girlfriend.”

“So what else you wanna ask me?”

“Be my partner,” Reba said. “I can't tell you the details just yet, but know that you'll get paid when it all go down in a couple weeks.”

“Sounds too vague,” Baby Blue said. “And if you tryin' to buy me in”—she put the bikini back—“then I can buy my own shit.”

“Naw, girl!” Reba grabbed the bikini and put it back in Baby Blue's hands.

I'm gon' make this bitch cooperate wit' my plan one way or the other. She the only one I trust enough to make
it
happen now, 'cause Duke only gave me three days to recruit my team.
Smiling, Reba said sweetly, “This just a treat 'cause you my girl. C'mon, let's go try this on.”

As Reba marched toward the dressing rooms with an armful of clothes, the Bang Squad's hit song, “Freakalicious,” blasted from her phone. “Girl, just a minute. It's Gerard. This pussy gave him a lobotomy last night. Bet he callin' to ask for help rememberin' his own damn name.”

Reba held the phone so Baby Blue couldn't see ANTOINE flash on the display. “Hey, big daddy. We shoppin' thanks to you.” Reba smiled at Baby Blue, who looked tense. “Yeah, I do. Ain't nothin' like help from a fine-ass man to save the day for D-town's workin' girls.”

Baby Blue drew her brows together and mouthed, “Fine?” She rolled her eyes, knowing damn well Gerard was not fine.

“Yeah, big daddy, I'll keep it hot.” She hung up.

“Girl, you dangerous,” Baby Blue said. “The chief of security ain't a smart choice to be fuckin' around with. He can watch your every move.”

“Why you so scared about every damn thing?” Reba snapped as a store worker led them into the dressing room. “An' why you all of a sudden followin' the rules when you shit on Slut Rule number five. Never date your clients.”

“I haven't seen Brian in six months,” Baby Blue said, staring at the floor. “That crazy white boy loved black booty an' rap music an' dressin' like a thug. But he was racist as hell.”

“But he was a Babylon client till you started givin' it away for free.”

“He wanted to marry me,” Baby Blue said as they stepped into the spacious dressing room with red velvet chairs and mirrored walls, “but his parents said if he married a black chick, he wouldn't get his trust fund money when he turnt twenty-five.”

Reba admired herself in the mirror. “Sheee-it. If I was him I'd wait too. Keep the love tip on the down low from my parents 'til I get the money then say, ‘Guess who's comin' to dinner?'” Her ponytail bounced as she laughed.

“I don't want no part of that,” Baby Blue said. “Besides, I'll do dick for work, but personally, I'd rather get wit' a girl.”

Reba rolled her eyes. “You know damn well you'd be all ova some dude who wanted to get married, have babies, and live large in the suburbs.”

Baby Blue shook her head. “It's not even like that for me. I like pussy over dick so I ain't tryin'a be wifed up by a man.”

“Shit, I am,” Reba said. “I'm on a serious man gettin' mission right now. And it will be accomplished.”

“Who's the man?” Baby Blue asked, hanging clothes on hooks.

“Knight.”

“You dream on, girl! You sound like Milan when she was goin' after Duke. You can only lose; look what happened to that stuck-up snob.”

“Got her due for lookin' down her nose at us for so many years,” Reba said as she pulled off her jump suit.

“You playin' wit' fire. I don't care how prissy you think Miss White Chocolate be. She don't mess around when it come to her man.”

“I ain't scared o' that bitch,” Reba said, admiring her big, brown titties in the mirror. “Neither was Janet.”

Baby Blue peeled off her T-shirt and low-cut jeans.

“Damn, girl! You ain't got no panties on under them jeans?” Reba exclaimed.

“I like the way my jeans rub up on my clit.” Baby Blue tapped her fingertips to the top of her fat pussy.

“Hey now, how I'm gon' resist all that shit in my face?” Reba moaned. She dropped to her knees. “Tell me you ain't givin' me leftovers after snow white took a bite of this juicy apple,” Reba said.

“Eat!” Baby Blue ordered, falling back on a chair, spreading her legs.

Kneeling on the zebra striped carpet, Reba rubbed her fingertips on top of that slippery brown berry. “Damn! Yo' pussy wet,” Reba said right before she slid her tongue up and down on Baby Blue's pussy lips.

Baby Blue moaned, “Oh, that feels so good!” Reba slid her tongue in and out of Baby Blue's wet opening while she kept rubbing her clit with her fingers.

“Don't stop! I'm wanna cum like that.” Baby Blue felt her walls contract as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation.

“I got yo' ass now,” she said. “Say you gon' help me.”

Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted their pleasure.

“Ladies, a man is coming here to see you,” the store owner said with a heavy accent.

Reba faked a confused expression.

“Can't they wait 'til I get my nut first?” Baby Blue moaned.

“You will.” Reba didn't bother to cover up as she opened the door.

Antoine stood there with a big bulge in his jeans. His brown sandals matched the mesh style of his long-sleeved shirt, which showed off his flat stomach and upper body muscles.

Reba said, “You like Superman, you know when it's some bitches in need an' you show up wit' just the right tools.”

“At your service,” Antoine said, stepping in. The manager rolled his eyes and walked away.

Reba closed the door. “Shoot! As much money as I spend in this joint, he bet' not say nothin'.”

Baby Blue sat up, closing her legs. “Is this just a coincidence or a set-up?”

“I was shopping next door and I saw you two fine ladies stoppin' traffic out in the mall,” Antoine bullshitted. “I knew you'd get freaky up in here, so I came to offer my services.”

“I don't fuck Studs,” Baby Blue said.

“A Slut standing on high moral ground,” Antoine said.

“Betta watch out. A flash-flood can come along, cause a mudslide, and you'll be slippin' into the cesspool with the rest of us unscrupulous muthafuckas.”

Baby Blue glared at Reba. “Girl, you know I can't stand his pretty ass. I'm outta here.” She stood and reached for her clothes.

“Sit the fuck down,” Reba said with a hard tone. “I was tryin' to be nice, but now I see I gotta go ghetto on your seditty ass.”

Antoine sat on the arm of the chair beside Baby Blue and cast a fake smile down at her.

“Why you look all jumpy an' nervous?” Reba teased. “I'm 'bout to make you rich.”

“I have enough money,” Baby Blue said. “My life is just fine the way it is.”

“Don't think small,” Reba said. “You an' me, as little girls in that rathole apartment our trick-ass mommas shared, they taught us to think small. Like yo' little hook-up at Babylon all you need.”

Antoine laughed. “Time to get your juicy slice of Babylon's pie. You'll never have to work again.”

“Yeah,” Reba said. “Think big.”

Baby Blue crossed her arms over her bare titties. Then she crossed her legs. “You both crazy. If you think bum rushin' me with a hot pussy in a dressing room will intimidate me into doing your death wish, forget about it.”

Reba snatched her phone out of her purse. “I'll call Knight right now and tell him about you dating a Babylon client for six months, giving away thousands of dollars worth of pussy.”

Baby Blue shrugged. “Call him. I'll pay it back. I learned my lesson. And Knight would understand.”

“You ain't hearin' me, bitch!” Reba raked her fingernails into the back of Baby Blue's head, grabbed a fistful of hair, and pulled back hard.

Baby Blue's eyes got huge.

“You gon' help us an' you gon' get paid, so listen,” Reba said.

In the small apartment over his mother's garage, Duke searched the doctor's eyes for more answers than the vague words that were coming out of her mouth. He needed to recover from this bullshit ASAP so he could get back to the work of taking what was his.

“It looks nasty as hell,” he said, laying on the bed and staring at the shredded skin near his right ribcage. “Tell me it ain't as bad as that shit looks.”

Doc Reynolds dabbed a cotton ball with white cream on the wound where Knight's bullet had grazed him. “I'm afraid you need stitches,” she said, examining him through her purple framed glasses. “And all that time in the water, you were exposed to bacteria and possibly toxins that are causing a bad infection.” She leaned down to his leg. She shook her head. “And this wound; I'm afraid you shouldn't walk on this.”

“It's just a cut,” Duke said, remembering the ripping sound as he went overboard and the sharp tip of the rope notch sliced open his thigh. “Good thing ain't no sharks in the Detroit River. I woulda been cum like a mug.”

Doc Reynolds shook her head. “I'm afraid you need stitches there too.”

Duke tried to get up. “I ain't got time to lay up in bed.”

Her gentle hand on his chest pushed him back down. “Duke, if you were as healthy as you were a year ago, you'd recover quickly and easily. But the drugs have severely compromised your body's ability to heal. And the blood test, I'm afraid—”

“Quit sayin' you afraid; just tell me, goddammit!” Duke cut her off.

“Sometime over the past year, you contracted HIV,” the Doctor said. “Whether it was from unprotected sex or sharing a needle.”

“Muthafuck me!” Duke shouted. “How long I got to live?”

“If you get on medication now, it can prolong the onset of AIDS. But those drugs are costly.”

Doc Reynolds knew what she was talking about. She was a good doctor. But for whatever reason, Knight had ousted her and replaced her with fancier doctors. Now Duke was recruiting her to work for him again, once he got things back up and running. After he got his body back up and running.

“Give me all the drugs I need,” Duke said.

Doc Reynolds shook her head, making her smooth black French roll move from side to side. She crossed her arms over her all-white uniform. “I can start you off with the small supply, maybe a month's worth, that I have at the clinic, but since I left Babylon, I don't have unlimited access to free meds.”

Duke ground his teeth. “I'll get the money.” And he'd get it from the folks running Babylon in two of America's sexiest cities; Miami and Las Vegas. Shar Miller and Leroy Lewis were sick of Knight's totalitarian regime and all his tight-ass rules. They were ready to bust out on their own, or bolster their bank as part of Duke's new empire, Oz.

Duke had just spoken with Shar and Leroy, who had both promised to put out feelers to recruit more Babylon controlled cities into Oz. Next, Duke was going to talk with sleazy-ass Moreno. Not for the meeting he'd planned a year ago in which Duke would seize all power from their family's empire. This time, Duke would be teaming up with them, to bring down their common enemy: Knight. But first, Duke had to get his body back in top shape to run an empire and win back his Timbo lovin' Duchess.

“Now I'm going to prep you so I can stitch up those wounds,” Doc Reynolds said. “I have to go to my car for supplies.” As she opened the door, Mama stood there crying. The dinner plate in her hand trembled so badly, the doctor grabbed it.

“Mrs. Johnson, I'm so sorry,” Doc Reynolds said, leading her inside.

“Boy, look at the mess you done made!” Mama shrieked. “No wonder Knight took control of e'rythang. You can't no more run a business than stay alive. Now gone and caught the AIDS?” She grabbed a pillow and whacked him in the head. “Boy, you nothin' but a dead junkie now. Ain't no point sewin' you up.”

“Mama, admit it. I can't neva be as good as Knight in yo' eyes. You, him, an' Prince always looked at me as nothin' but a knuckle-headed punk!”

Duke wanted to stand but his body hurt too much. All the rage from twenty-two years of feeling lesser than his brothers in their mother's eyes suddenly surged up and shot out of his mouth like bullets at the woman who had both birthed him, and now, killed him inside. “You think I'm such an' ain't shit muthafucka', Mama. I'll be better off dead anyways. So go on back to church, tell God thank you for knockin' off your no good baby boy. You and Knight can live happily ever after.”

Duchess' face flashed in his mind.

“You even like his lady now, but you hated her when she was wit' me!” He snatched the pillow and threw it at his mother. “Get the fuck out, Mama! You ain't neva gotta look at this muthafucka again.”

Mama burst into tears. “Baby, I'm sorry. I'm just so mad you don' throwed yo' life away.” She spread her arms and leaned down to hug him. “I'm sorry, baby.”

Duke pushed her away. “Doc, take me outta here.”

“Baby!” Mama shrieked. “Baby, stay! You need rest! I'll take care of you.”

Duke grimaced and gripped his leg and side as he angled his body to the edge of the bed. He pressed on the nightstand and forced himself to stand up, despite the blinding pain.

“Baby, stay!”

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Johnson,” the doctor said as she put Duke's arm over her shoulder and led him toward the door.

Duke turned back, focusing on the floor. “I ain't stayin' where don't nobody love me. Bye, Mama.”

She screamed as he slammed the door.