Stone de la Bru Familia (6 page)

Stone knew that Coretta was feeling some kind of way. There was no getting around how he lived his life. There was this last thing to do before he could truly settle down. Finding out who killed Candi was very important to him and he wished that Coretta could understand this. 

It was no small comfort to her that he spent most of the evening with her. They'd lay in the room cuddled on the bed. When he began to stir, signaling his departure, she renewed her argument about him staying out late at night and being associated with strange women. She stopped just short of accusing him of having an affair. 

Stone was losing the will to placate Coretta's insecurities. She questioned why he was going to an after-hours lounge and what did he expect to find there? How was that going to help find Candi's killer? And what exactly is his relationship to Misty? Doesn't she live in your apartment building? 

Stone stopped answering her questions when it became apparent that no answer was a good enough answer. All she wanted from him was to drop his hood detective ambitions and focus his attention on her. 

Maybe she wasn't the one to marry. Maybe he was not the type to get married at all. He considered his motivation for getting married on the way to the after-hours lounge to meet Misty. She said that the man Candi used to date would probably show up and she'd point him out. 

Maybe he wanted to get married because mom really liked Coretta and would love nothing more than to see her youngest child settle down with a good woman. Maybe it was because Coretta represented the last virgin in Los Angeles.  

And he could be sure that she was pure. Maybe it was because she came from a good family with money. Maybe it was because he caught the Holy Ghost while attending church with her and perhaps this was God's way of saying that she was the one for him; who could go against that? 

The large white building gleamed under the moonlight as Stone made the quick left on Centinela just north of Slauson. The dead-end street glittered with the jewelry dangling from eager necks and chrome of parked cars. Slow moving men and women, most hard faced, others smiling, moved towards the dimly lit entrance near the middle of the two-story white-watched warehouse. 

In none of these reasons for marrying Coretta was love. This occurred to him as he found a parking spot that could give him an easy exit. The only other building on this short street was a hospital administration office. Most parked in the lot of the rear of this quiet structure. 

"Wassup Stone! What brings you out this way?" asked the burly man at the door, his bald head gleaming under the dim lightbulb. He waved Stone to the front of the line. 

"What it do, Bruce? See you still in command." Stone was aware of the curious stares directed in his direction. No doubt questioning why he got special privileges. He always knew from experience that these same eyes had traveled with him from the time he exited the big bodied BMW squatted on 24” Davin rims. 

"
Yeah
,
 you know the business. Go on in. It's some fine girls in there," Bruce said with a wink before turning back to the line of eager visitors. His face turned blank once again as he waved a pair of sharply dressed men forward. 

Stone entered a bright foyer. Before him was a small room where a man wearing a tight black suit that identified him as security. 

"Step this way young blood," said the buff man just inside the door. 

"You law enforcement?" he asked once Stone stepped into the room. Along the walls were lockers, some with yellow tags hanging from the locks. A long table stood in the center of the room. 

"Naw, Bru," Stone replied, causing the tight-shirted man to look more closely. His eyes dropped to the diamond encrusted pendant peeking between the opening of his black leather jacket. The words "Live Rich Die Ready" were raised in blue diamonds around the rose-gold star and crescent. 

"You Bru affiliated?" the man asked, a new respect in his voice. 

"Maybe," Stone replied evasively, causing a wry grin on the security man's chiseled face. 

         "Right. I hear you," he said, nodding with some private communication. 

"You strapped?" he wanted to know. 

"Yep." 

The man nodded again, deciding that he would let Stone keep his gun. 

"Go on in. Have a good time." 

"Right on," Stone said, laying his fist out for dap. 

That's good business, Stone thought to himself as he exited the small security room and climbed the short stairway into the main room.  

The privileges of being BRU affiliated was showing itself in the most unexpected places. He stepped into a large space dominated by a pool table. Hustlers lounged around this attraction, paired off in twos or threes discussing women, business, murder or a combination of the three. 

Stone remembered now how Coretta chastised him for being a loner. She would show concern for his safety when he went out alone at night. Being alone never bothered Stone. He'd put enough dicks in the dirt to know that it's better to do dirt solo. Fear was not part of his bone structure. 

Scantily clad women spilled from a far doorway, making their way to a dimly lit bar along the far left wall. Here, the women met up with sophisticated gentlemen who received them in tailored suits and gold trimmed smiles. The faint music of Plies seeped from the doorway, following these sexy women from a place of mystery. 

Stone stepped through the cigar smoke filled billiard room into another, larger room that was lined with chairs, where men received lap dances from the near-naked women.  

In the center of the room a small circle of men gathered. They held flashlights high in the air. Stone stepped to the edge of this congregation and peered over one man's shoulder. On the floor was a woman masturbating with both hands, one in her pussy while the other finger in her ass. She was encouraged with dropped one-dollar bills and calls of "deeper" and "more"; she obliged with a strained face and tension filled gyrations. 

It was hard to see how the men who murdered Candi would be found here. There was another floor upstairs and what looked to be a basement. Stone stood at a narrow stairway that led both ways; up and down.  

Below, a light shone unto a bald man standing watch over what Stone felt was not worth seeing; maybe a dominatrix whipping a rope bound man. 

 Upstairs, a red velvet door was the backdrop for a slim man in a black security suit. He looked bored. Stone wondered if he was late. Everyone seemed to have found the place they wanted to be in this building. There wasn't much traffic on this stairwell.  

Behind him, just outside the stairwell landing, was a chair against the wall that held the weight of two people; they gasped and whispered encouragement for money and sex to each other. 

"Hi, sweetie. Need some company?" a seductive voice asked.  

A pale white woman sidled up next to him on this small landing. She smelled like fresh lilacs. Stone reasoned that she must have just gotten here because she lacked the sheen on her that the other women had from working the room.  

Her blonde hair hung in two twisted braids, tied at the end (over her large breasts) with red polka dot ribbons. Her buxom frame was caped with a sheer red négligée. No panties. No bra. 

"Naw. I'm cool," he responded. "What's down there?" he asked with a nudge of his chin. 

"Oh," she swooned, batting her large silver eyes. "There is a ring down there. The loser gets whammed," she said, making a motion of one fist slamming into her open palm. 

"What?" 

She smiled wickedly, her teeth white and straight. "Two men fight. The loser gets whammed," she said, making her eyes widen in an effort to get him to comprehend. 

“Women like to watch. Maybe that's not for you. How about upstairs?" she suggested. 

"What's up there?" 

She cocked her head to him, smiling as if to a child. "You've never been here, have you?" 

"Nope" 

"Well, upstairs might be more your flavor. There's several rooms for fetishes. Would you like me to escort you?" Her invitation lacked any sexual innuendo. 

"That's cool," he replied, allowing her to link her arm through his. 

She smiled to him when she brushed against the holstered gun under his leather coat. 

Stone liked the feel of her. She had an innocence about her that he liked. As they climbed the stairs the door opened, spilling red light onto the stairway. A couple emerged arm in arm, laughing together. 

"My name is Sasha," she said beside him, looking to him in the dim red light. 

"Stone Sweetwater," he replied, stealing a look at her and discovering she was more beautiful than he'd originally estimated. He wanted to know more about her for some reason. They stepped to the side of the stairway to allow the couple to pass, pressing into each other intimately. 

This was going to be a challenge, Stone thought to himself as he and Sasha exchanged an intimate look when the couple passed. She smiled to him as he led the way up the stairs. The security man held the door for them. 

"You have a beautiful name,” Sasha said as the door was closed behind them. Before them were beaded archways, both leading to narrow passageways deep into the bowels of fetish-ville. 

"Which way is safe?" he asked, looking to Sasha. She lifted a long manicured finger to the passageway at their right." 

"Let's try this way first. We’ll loop around and end up back here… If we don't detour," she added with a sly grin and wink. 

"Yeah, right," he responded, hoping he didn't see Misty in one of these fetish rooms. 

They entered the dim hallway. Further down were other couples who stopped to watch a show behind a glass window. The first window Stone and Sasha stepped to showed a woman squatting over a man's face. He lapped at her pussy while she shoved a dildo into his ass. 

"Maybe too much for you," Sasha suggested when Stone showed his displeasure. "If that grosses you out then you better not go downstairs," she added. 

"Is Sasha your real name?" he asked as they approached another window. 

"Is Sweetwater yours?" she asked.  

Before them through a window, a fat man in diapers sat on a small stool. He gulped at the stream of milk squirting from the large breasts of a naked woman. Stone laughed. 

"Glad to see you laugh. Most people find this repulsive," Sasha said. 

As they walked further on Stone assured her that his name was real. Between the glass windows were small doors. Stone wondered if this was what she meant by a detour. 

"My real name is Sarah Rubin. I just moved here from Ohio," she said as they came before another window.  

Here, a white man with a long dick slammed into a shapely black woman's pussy. Her body shivered as he held her waist, pounding from the back, while she leaned over a chair. 

 Stone watched with interest. He'd never been a fan of porn and often heard of how white men took advantage of black women in the industry. The white man's eyes were closed tightly as he pounded away. The woman was looking at Stone, smiling gleefully. 

"How long have you been here?" he asked, stepping away from the window. He felt himself begin to stir in his  jeans. 

"About six months. I dance at The Strip on LaBrea." 

Stone was silent, wondering what the next window would show. 

"And what about you? What do you do during the day?" Sasha asked.  

They were alone in the hallway. There were other couples who were viewing with them, but had slipped through the small doorways to participate in the fetishes. It was Stone who noticed that they were by themselves. 

"Where did the other people go?" he wanted to know, looking back down the dimly lit hall.  

Sasha smiled mysteriously up at him. Stone liked her generous smile with fleshy lips. She nodded towards the small door between the windows. 

"So those people were actually out here?" 

"Yep. They switch up. Mostly it's the men who slip through. The women go to get them back when they are done." 

"Oh," Stone said, finding this experience like walking through a rose garden. He nearly felt as if he were on a date. "I don't do much all day." 

"You do a lot of something with that diamond necklace and the gun," she stated.  

Stone looked to her so he could see what was in her eyes. She smiled innocently up at him. He imagined that she would be some kind of trophy wife. 

"What do you do when you're not dancing?" he asked. 

"I'm a sophomore at USC." There was some measure of mischievous pride in her voice. 

"Seriously?" 

She nodded and suddenly he saw a woman he'd suspected all along. They'd come to the end of the hallway and were about to make the turn down the other  when he saw someone very familiar, but couldn't quite place the face. He knew that he'd never seen her undressed in this way.