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Authors: Dakota Knight

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BOOK: Biker Chick
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“You hook me up with these coolers here, and I'll give you an extra two percent of the take this week from the DVD and CD sales.”
“One week?” Jimmy asked.
“How about two? That's pretty good insurance, especially seeing as the chances of something happening to you are zero to none.”
He frowned again as he began adding up my purchase.
He loved money just as much as me. He wasn't going to refuse me because green ruled the world. As long as he made a cut, he was content. And as long as he was taking in the cash, I was happy.
By the time we got outside, the Cruz was gone. I heard the rumble of their steels off in the distance, somewhere deep in the Meadows. “So, Ray didn't ask anything about me?” I asked Dymond.
“Who?” she asked.
“The tall Tupac-lookin' guy.”
Dymond shook her head. “Naw, but I did notice him staring you down. Maybe I'll ask Shadow about him. Don't worry, I'll have the 411 on him real quick.”
We walked back to the Heights and to my house. Dymond hid the coolers outside while I entered the house through the back door. Thankfully, most of my customers had made their selections and it was check-out time. Within one hour, I was eight hundred and fifty dollars richer than I was before I went to Cam's. Mom got her cut, of course, before I left with the rest of the Trio. I even snatched a couple of beers from Mom's stash. She wouldn't miss them. We decided to chill at Dymond's place.
As we downed beer and coolers, I surprised myself. For once, I wasn't thinking about the almighty dollar. I was thinking about a man, tall and lean, fine as ever . . . Ray. The night progressed, my buzz finally kicked in, and he was still on my mind. I hoped he was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him.
Chapter Three
And a love was born . . .
Like I said, the trouble started with three parties. The purse party went well and my bootleg sales were off the chain. I had no complaints about the business side of my existence. Needless to say, the cash was flowing. It was a good thing, too, because I had to pay for my birthday party.
Luckily, my eighteenth birthday fell on a Saturday. I was pumped the whole day. First, I got my hair done. I was up with the sun and borrowed Mom's car to head down to the salon. I staked out my spot before the doors opened. There was no way I was waiting all day to get my hair done. By the time Dee came to unlock the door, there were already five of us, standing in line like we were trying to get tickets for a T.I. concert. As Dee held open the door for me, I gave the other chicks my “First Come, First Served” smirk. It was my birthday. . . what did they expect?
I had Dee lay some tracks in my hair. She was the only one I trusted to match my hair right. There weren't many teenagers around with hair looking like a plate full of salt and pepper, but Dee's skills were second to none when it came to matching and dyeing and all that other stuff stylists do to make girls like me look good. When Dee finished, my hair was wavy and flowing to my waist.
Next, it was off to the Eastgate mall. I was a card-carrying member of We Got Nails, an Asian shop inside of mall. Not only were the prices on point, but everyone on the east side knew they did the best french manicures in Columbus. I got the special treatment for my nails and toes. Next it was the facial (I had to let my nails dry somewhere). After enjoying my “me” time, I called up the Trio to meet me at the mall.
“Both of you need to hurry up and get your lazy asses over here. I need help finding some shoes,” I told Dee. I didn't really need help, but I did want some company. It's rarely fun shopping alone.
“Dang, girl, I ain't even dressed yet,” Dee complained.
“If you weren't laid up under Shadow all the time, maybe you wouldn't be so tired,” I joked.
Dee huffed and said, “That's not funny,”
“But it is true.” I laughed.
“I'm hanging up.”
“Get your ass over here, girl, and pick up Lala on the way. She's waiting for you!”
“I hate you.”
“I love you,” I said before pressing the END button on my cell phone.
I decided to wait in front of Nordstrom for my girls. I sat in one of the plush mall seats, staring at bad-ass kids as they screamed, and their mommas as they tried to control them. I wanted to yell out, “Didn't you learn anything from
Madea
? You need to beat their butts, not try and reason with them!” But I knew how women were about their kids and I wasn't trying to get cursed out or land myself in a brawl on my birthday.
Instead, I engaged in a more enjoyable task—thinking about Ray. Since I met him in front of Cam's, I had been thinking about him constantly. Of course, Dymond got the 411 for me, after she got her fill of Shadow . . . if you know what I mean. According to Shadow, Ray's life was pretty basic. He was twenty-two years old, grew up on the West side of Columbus and graduated from Westland High. His half-brother Sean was a member of the Cruz, so Ray joined too at the age of sixteen. He rose through the ranks quickly, and moved to the East side after his cash from the Cruz began to flow smoothly. He lived in a house in the suburb of Pickerington. And most importantly, he didn't have no baby mommas or any girlfriends, or so Shadow said.
I hadn't even really talked to Ray and I was already linking our names together like we were heading to the altar. I could see the invitations in my head:
You are cordially invited to the wedding of RayKwon Scott Jackson and Crystal Marie Sells
. Crystal Sells-Jackson sounded kind of funny but Crystal Marie Jackson didn't sound bad at all. Dymond teased me sometimes, calling me CrystalRay. I thought about us going out, maybe to the Park of Roses for a long walk, or to Dave and Busters to play some games. We would hold hands, of course, and I could just stare at his beautiful eyes while he was talking to me about anything and everything. And those lips and that body . . . Don't even get me started. How could a sista like me get sprung on a three-minute conversation? I don't know why he was on my mind like he was the last guy on Earth. It wasn't as if he tried to get in touch with me or anything. I shouldn't have even given him the time of day—thoughtwise, that is. But I couldn't help it. My excitement rose again as I thought about the conversation I had with Dymond about Ray the day before my birthday.
“Girl, I hope you don't get mad at me,” Dymond had said to me as we were relaxing at her house and drinking Lala's sad attempts at margaritas.
I straightened up on the couch. “What would I be mad about?” I asked cautiously.
“Well,” Dymond's voice slurred, “I told Shadow he should make sure Ray showed his face at your party.”
I jumped up. “You did what?” I exclaimed, shaking my head as my buzz disappeared.
“Don't get hostile. You know you want him to come.” Dymond raised her half-empty glass of margarita. “We should be toasting the occasion. As good as you're gonna look tomorrow, there's no way he can resist. And if he can work it anywhere near the way my man works it, you got it made in the shade.” She finished off the rest of her drink.
I noticed Lala frowning as I paced around the room. “What's wrong, Lalique?” I asked.
Lala shook her head. “I don't know why you and Dymond are so caught up with those Cruz niggas. They ain't no good.”
Lala had been kind of moody lately. I could almost see the cloud of despair hanging over her head. But I wasn't going to let her steal my joy.
“Lala, are you still on that ‘we don't date drug dealers' thing?” I asked. “Because if I'm correct, we all broke that vow a long time ago.”
“You got that right,” Dymond agreed.
Lala responded by rolling her eyes and smacking her lips.
“Did I look all funky before your eighteenth birthday? Did I go around preaching doom and gloom?” I asked sarcastically.
Lala shook her head. “No you didn't.” Her voice was tense. “I'm just telling you that you need to be careful. Both of you.” She turned her head slowly, her piercing blue eyes drilling a hole into my soul.
“Don't worry about me,” Dymond said.
“Me neither.” I agreed. “What you need to be worried about is some training on how to mix drinks.” I teased. We had all laughed and the tense moment was broken.
There was also something else on my mind: the motorcycles. A girl like me, who grew up listening to the roar of steels' engines every spring and into the fall, just thinking about being on the back of one those babies made me feel warm inside.
Twenty minutes after I started daydreaming, Dymond and Lala finally made it to the mall. They were both dragging their heels as if they were being led to an execution chamber or something.
“What's wrong with you?” I asked as they stepped up to me.
“We're tired, that's what,” Dymond said. Lala nodded in agreement.
Despite their claims of exhaustion, both of them had make-up on their faces, cute tight-ass jeans and show-me tops, and stilettos on. They looked like they were headed to a fashion show, not a department store.
Tired, my ass
, I thought. Well, at least they weren't looking as good as me. And I was going to look even better in less than ten minutes.
“Well, you need to get some energy,” I said, rising from my seat, “'Cause I need help finding some shoes.”
Dymond moaned. “Girl, you take all day looking for shoes,” she said. “I need to get ready for the party.”
“Me, too,” Lala added. “We'll be up in here for the rest of the day.”
I shook my head. “No, we won't. I already have an idea shoe in mind. Plus, my budget is only three hundred and fifty dollars, so I can't go too crazy.”
I could swear Dymond rolled her eyes, but that wasn't what surprised me. It was Lala, normally so quiet, trying to break me down.
“You always bragging about your damn money. Three hundred this and one thousand that. You ain't got to impress us. We know you're getting paid. You need to just keep it to yourself sometimes.”
I stepped back, my mouth open in shock. Lala rarely tripped out like that. I could imagine Dymond saying something like that, and even then, only when we were drunk, but never Lala. I guess you never really know people, no matter how much you think you do.
“Whoa, chick,” I said, trying to control my voice. “What's up with the attitude? You've known me . . . how long? When have I ever not been about money? I was counting green when you were still playing with Barbie dolls . . .”
Dymond stopped me with a held-up palm deadly close to my face. “Stop before you say something crazy. Lala's right about your bragging and you're right about being a born hustlette, as you like to say. So, let's just go find these dang shoes so I can get some more rest before we have to deal with your happy birthday ass all night long.”
Normally, a “talk to the hand” pose was cause for major combat. But it was Dymond after all, acting as peacemaker.
“I'm cool,” I said, “Lala just needs to take a happy pill.”
Lala frowned and began to speak. Dymond cut her off.
“Lala, be nice!”
I glanced in Lala's direction. “Girl, you know I'm just playing with you.” I lied. “Let's just have some fun and celebrate, okay, chick?”
Lala displayed a weak half-smile and nodded. I waited for a second to see if she would do more than bob her head, but she didn't say a word.
“Let's go!” I said, and headed toward Nordstrom's.
The little mini-argument put a little damper on my shoe trip. I even looked for something on sale, hoping Lala would feel a little better. I looked at my watch, and promised that I would only keep my friends for an hour. I selected three shoes right away, and I asked Dymond and Lala to do the same. Fifty minutes later, I had made my choice. I hovered over the register counter when I finally did make my selection, a nice pair of red Callini sandals with three-inch heels to match my dress. At five foot, eight and a half inches, I was almost six feet tall with the shoes. Model fabulous. I ended up paying just over three hundred dollars, a pretty good deal for a pair of Callini's. I didn't
brag
about it though. I just grabbed my bag and we said our good-byes.
As I walked to the car, ready to get home and finish my birthday preparations, Ray crept into my mind again. I couldn't wait to see him again. I hoped Shadow would convince him to come. And I hoped I would be able to control myself when I saw him.
Chapter Four
A love that would not be denied . . .
By the time my rented stretch Hummer limo parked in front of Extreme Games on Saturday night, any nervousness I felt over seeing Ray was overtaken by my extreme happiness. I had to dip into my savings and call in a couple of favors to get the limo, but seeing the jaws drop in front of Extreme Games made it all worth it.
Dymond and Lala were with me, and we were all working on getting a quick buzz before entering the building. My brain was already feeling a bit numb, but I couldn't tell how Dymond and Lala were making out. We were drinking what we liked to call ReVerse, which was basically rum and cokes. We had Coke cans, poured out half of the Cola, and then added rum. Yummy. Since we were out in public, we didn't want the world to know we were complete lushes.
“Girls,” I said, raising my can. “I think it's time we made our entrance.”
“Hell, yeah!” Dymond yelled. I knew then that not only was her buzz on, but she was working on being drunk as hell.
I grabbed Dymond's drink. “You've had enough. I don't want you embarrassing yourself or me.”
I looked at Lala. She was quiet, as usual. “Ready to have some fun, EW?” I asked. Lala nodded her head.
“You all right?” I asked her. She looked like she was still a bit peeved over our little argument earlier in the day. “I'm really sorry about earlier today.”
“Yeah, I'm fine,” Lala responded, speaking softly. “And I'm sorry too.”
I rose up from my seat and gave Lala a quick hug.
“That's so sweet!” Dymond yelled out. “We're all sisters again.”
“Damn right! Now, let's do this,” I said excitedly.
The driver let us out and we all walked together toward the entrance to Extreme Games. I heard various voices saying hello and happy birthday. I nodded in every direction, and waved like I had just won some type of pageant. I couldn't believe how many people showed up. I knew some faces from my high school, but there was all types of people up in the EG. When I stepped into the main part of the building, where every game imaginable was on one side of me and a dining area and dance floor was on the other side, the DJ started playing some tune with trumpets.
“All hail the birthday queen, Miss Crystal Sells,” the DJ said over the mic. “If you're all glad to see the queen, everybody raise your hand and say, ‘Hell yeah!' ”
The crowd obeyed. Dymond nudged me on the arm. “Now, you get mad at me when I say ‘Hell yeah,' but the DJ is having everybody say it,” she teased.
“It's all good, 'cause it's my party and I'll yell if I want to.” I raised my arms and yelled “Hell yeah” too.
Within minutes, Dymond was heading to the bathroom to relieve herself of some of the reverse Coke and me and Lala were headed toward the air hockey table. I wondered briefly if anyone had ever played air hockey at EG in Prada and Callini. I was dressed up, but I had to play my favorite game.
Me and Lala were engaged in an epic battle when she suddenly froze and looked up. At the same time, I could feel that familiar feeling of the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. That could only mean one thing—Ray. A lump formed in my stomach and my heart started beating fast. But I had to handle the situation. I turned around to look at him. He was looking extra-fine. I wanted to jump into his arms, but I stayed cool.
Ray was staring at Lala. There was some sort of familiarity in his gaze. I looked back at Lala. When she noticed my stare, she glanced down at the table. Something tweaked in my mind.
“Do you know each other?” I asked them.
At first, no one responded. Then Ray spoke up.
“I saw your girl the other day,” Ray said. “What's up . . . Lala, right?”
Lala didn't look up from the table, but nodded and said, “What's up, Ray?”
“Cristal
, it ain't nothing but a thing,” Ray said, his eyes traveling up and down my body. “Anyway, it's your birthday, and you're looking good enough to eat.” His tongue traveled slowly across his lips.
I swallowed . . . hard. I could almost feel the heat from his eyes as he stared at me. “You're looking good, too,” I responded.
We stood there staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Lala tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped. “Crystal, I'ma head to the bathroom and then go look for Dymond,” she said. She sounded like she had a bit of an attitude.
I looked back at Ray. Most dudes I know would have already at least been looking at Lala's eyes wondering if they were real, but he was still staring at me. A man after my heart and mind. “All right, we'll probably be around here,” I said.
After she walked off, Ray said, “Your girl probably won't be able to find Shadow's chick. When they saw each other, it was on. No telling where they are now.”
“I ain't thinking about them,” I said.
“I'm not thinking about them, either,” he said, moving closer to me. I could smell his
Cool Water
. “I'm thinking about me and you.”
My insides were warming up. “What about me and you?” I asked.
We were so close I thought he would reach down and kiss me. Instead, he took my hand and placed a small wrapped box inside of my palm. I held the box up. “What's this?” I asked.
“It's your birthday present,” Ray responded.
“I thought you were my present.” I moved even closer, flirting with him.
Ray pushed my hair back, bent down and put his lips near my left ear. His breath against my ear made my entire body warm. “If you want me to be,” he said softly.
I looked up and him and beamed. “Hmmm. Imagine the possibilities,” I said, fiddling with the box.
Ray grabbed the box out of my hand. “Don't open it now.”
I looked around. “When can I? I'm curious now.”
“Later.” Ray looked over me at the air hockey table.
“So, are you any good?”
I pushed him back. “What do you mean by that?”
He pointed at the hockey table. “Are you any good at air hockey?”
My cheeks got hot. I thought he was talking about something else. “I'm the best,” I said playfully.
“Are you a gambler?” he asked.
“Naw, I'm more of a hustlette.” I responded.
He nodded. “So I've heard.” I smiled. So he'd been asking about me, too.
“So what about gambling?”
Ray put the gift box into his pocket. “I have a bet for you. Let's play one game of hockey. If you win, I'll give you the box and let you rip it open or do whatever you want to it. If I win, then you have to leave with me, no questions asked, and go wherever I take you.” He leaned against the table.
“What kind of bet is that?” I asked. “There could be air in that box for all I know. And you could take me off and do anything to me.”
“I would never do anything you didn't want me to do. I'm not that kind of man,” Ray said seriously. I believed him.
I held out my hand. “Okay, we've got a deal.”
Ray shook my hand and smiled. “Deal.”
He beat me in less than five minutes.
I spent the next ten minutes saying my good-byes and thank-yous. Ray was right, Dymond was nowhere to be found. Lala was easy to find, however, and she was pissed when I told her my plans.
“I can't believe this. First Dymond, now you? What am I supposed to do around here?”
“Girl, it ain't like you don't know these folks around here. Have fun. Dance. You can even take a spin in the Hummer. I have it for the entire evening and I'm not even using it. One of us might as well enjoy it.”
Lala's eyes started to water. I really felt bad but the thought of being alone with Ray was overpowering. “Girl, don't do that. It's my birthday and I want to have some fun.”
“I thought the Trio was having fun,” Lala said.
“Girl, we hung out most of the day. C'mon, let me get to know this brotha without feeling like you're here hating me.”
Lala smiled weakly. “What choice do I have? You're going to go even if I say I don't want you to, so just go do your thing, girl.”
That was all the approval I needed. I gave Lala a hug and hurried toward the entrance of Extreme Games, where Ray was waiting for me.
“Ready?” he asked.
“As ready as I'm going to be,” I responded.
We headed out of the building and started walking. Ray took my hand and intertwined his fingers in mine. We finally stopped in front of a black Cady Escalade. He guided me to the passenger's side and opened the door. “You're pulling out all the stops.” I said.
“Only for you.”
He got into the driver's side. I didn't know where we were going, but I felt safe. I knew he wouldn't take me anywhere and hurt me. “Nice whip,” I said. “Where's your steel?”
Ray turned to look at me. “I let it rest at night.” He responded. “Plus, I need something to keep me warm during the winter, right?”
Before I could ask another question, Ray leaned over and began kissing me. I instantly melted. His tongue entered my mouth and danced with mine. I could almost taste his passion as he kissed me deeper. It was almost too much to bear.
By the time we released each other, my breathing was ragged and my panties were moist. Ray put his head down on the steering wheel.
“Damn, I knew your mouth would taste good.” His voice was heavy.
“You tasted good too,” I said, squeezing my thighs together and wishing he was between them.
“Do you taste good all over?” he asked.
“That's for me to know and you to find out,” I responded, feeling another wave of warmth pass over me.
Ray started up the SUV and drove out of the parking lot. Once we reached the freeway and headed east, I knew we were going to his house. There was so much lust in the air, I didn't know if I could make it, so I tried to make idle conversation.
“So, ummm, what made you want to join the Cruz?” I asked.
“I would lie and say I like to ride, but the truth is, I'm in it for the money.”
“I understand that.”
“You think you do, but you don't really know me yet. See, I want to do more in the future than what I'm doing now. Legit shit, you know. I already own my house, and I even have some stocks and bonds. I figure I'll save enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life and then retire.”
I stared at him. “I heard you never really get out of the Cruz.”
“There are always ways,” he said. “And I am willing to do what it takes to get out.” He paused and glanced at me for a quick second before focusing again on the road.
“You look like you want to say something, just get it out,” I said.
“I heard about your father,” he said cautiously. “He's a fucking legend, one of the original members of the Cruz. He got out.”
I felt a lump form in my throat. “Yeah, and I'm sure you know the rest the story, too. He's resting in peace because of his affiliation with your gang.”
“But he got shot by a cop, it was a wrongful death. Didn't you and your moms get a settlement from the city for that?”
I couldn't respond. My eyes were stinging and I fought back tears. Yes, Christopher Sells was a founding member of the Cruz, he rode with them for years, and then tried to go legit. He wanted out, and after a beat down that almost ended his life, he supposedly had the freedom to do anything he wanted. But the story didn't end there.
After trying to work in a world where everyone followed the rules, my father found he couldn't take it. Or, should I say, the world wouldn't take him. When I was ten years old, during the same year Lala's mom got strung out, my dad was shot in the back four times by a police officer during a so-called “routine” stop. He didn't have a weapon or anything. At trial, the officer claimed he knew my father from the Cruz and considered him armed and dangerous. My mom finally settled with the city, and the lawyers took most of the cash.
“I didn't mean to upset you,” Ray said, interrupting my private thoughts.
“It's okay, I just really try not to think about it a lot, you know.”
“I should have known it would be painful for you. I feel really stupid.”
I shook my head. “You're fine. It was eight years ago. I've healed a lot since then.”
“I can tell. I saw you looking over the motorcycles a couple of weeks ago. If you could have jumped on one and rode off into the sunset, you would have.” He was right, of course. I had been around motorcycles since I was born and my dad taught me how to ride on a Quad. I loved motorcycles, I had just been avoiding them.
BOOK: Biker Chick
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