Double Dippin' (22 page)

Panting hard, Shane pulled up her skirt and tugged on her enormous panties. Tears of release fell from his eyes as he mounted her and eased his penis inside. With every stroke, he promised her complete devotion. “I swear. I love you, Mom. I’m gonna treat you right; I’m gonna be a good son.”

He easily acquired the money he needed. He gave the pretty Puerto Rican a sob story before he served her some dick. He got some additional cash by serving as lookout while Brick stepped out of the shadows and surprised a couple of suckers who were withdrawing money from an ATM, situated in a desolate location.

He also had his secret place. Not one soul—not Tariq, Misty, Brick, or any of his many female benefactors knew that Shane had taken up residence in a cozy little apartment. No one would ever dream that Shane was now leading a double life.

It was a very small furnished apartment with just one bedroom. The wide-screen
TV was the only thing Shane purchased. It took up most of the space in the living room. Ms. Holmes loved it. The surround sound was an extra perk as she had become somewhat hard of hearing. When she wasn’t watching TV she was reading the Bible or cooking. There was lots of food that had to be stored in the freezer when Shane didn’t come home, which was often.

Shane still crashed with Misty and Brick and the ever-growing list of female conquests. But he believed in taking care of home; the refrigerator and cabinets in the apartment were well stocked and there was plenty of extra cash left in the bureau drawers.

The new neighbors thought Shane was Ms. Holmes’s grandson. “How you doing, young man?” asked one nosey neighbor. “And how’s your grandmother?”

“That ain’t my grandmother; that’s my mother,” Shane corrected the man with a scowl.

He could stay away for days at a time. When he returned there were no questions asked and no attitude problem, just an abundance of love and affection. When he crawled into bed and lay beside the only woman who was capable of giving him the thing he really needed, Shane was truly at peace.

The thing that Dolores Holmes gave that every other woman in his life was incapable of giving him was motherly love.

T
he video camera Shane had stolen from Paula would be a good gift for Tariq. He could film the baby’s progress. Keep a record that would last a lifetime. Shane and Tariq didn’t even have any photographs of themselves as babies or small children. Any school photos taken during their early years in Children’s Home had gotten lost in the shuffle of moving here and there.

But before he passed the camera on to Tariq, he wanted to show Misty and Brick his porno debut.

“Check this out, y’all,” he said, handing Misty the camera. “I don’t have the instructions so I don’t know how to put it on DVD; you have to check it out on the camera.”

With one eye closed, Misty peered into the lens. “Ooo, Shane!”

“What?” Brick asked.

“Shane filmed him and that lady fucking. Hmph! Her body ain’t bad for an old jawn, but she don’t look as good as I do,” Misty remarked with a pout.

“Let me see!” Brick asked, reaching for the camera.

“Wait your turn.” Misty plopped down on the sofa and got comfortable. Shane was watching her, checking out her reaction. She seemed mesmerized. “Brick, I don’t know if you want to see this,” she said with a sly grin.

“Why not?”

“Because Shane is hung like a damn horse.” She patted Brick’s arm. “You might get jealous, baby.”

“His dick ain’t bigger than mine!” Brick proclaimed. “Trust me,” he said,
laughing. “I done took many a shower with this nigga up at Barney Hills and he’s kind of lacking in the dick department.”

“Yo, dawg. You can’t measure the size of a man’s pipe when it’s all shriveled up in the shower.”

“I’m just saying,” Brick said. “Ain’t no way yours is bigger than mine because I’m laying down pipe with ten thick inches.”

Shane looked at Misty.

“Don’t look at me.”

“Why not? You the only one that can verify what kind of dick this lying nigga is really slinging.”

Misty handed the camera to Brick. “He ain’t lying. He might even be eleven inches. I ain’t measured him in a while.” She gave Shane a catty smile. “You looked like you were having a good time with Miss Paula. That shit didn’t look like work at all.”

“It’s not supposed to look like work,” he said sullenly, perturbed over her insinuating that Brick had a bigger dick.

“I got an idea.” Misty announced. “We need to do something useful with that video.”

“Like what?” Suddenly more interested in what Misty had to say than watching another man fuck, Brick laid the camera down.

“After the way Shane robbed his girlfriend, it’s not like he can go back for seconds. So we could keep a steady cash flow by telling her we’re gonna give the tape to her husband.”

“Aw shit, yeah!” Brick jumped up, excited.

“We could make her pay once a week or every two weeks, depending on how her husband gets paid.”

“Blackmail ain’t no joke, Misty. We could all do some serious time.”

“That bitch ain’t gonna call no cops. And anyway, how she gonna prove who’s blackmailing her?”

“When Shane picks up the money,” Brick said.

“Wrong answer. Shane ain’t picking up no money. I’m gonna use my phony ID and get a post office box. Then I’m gonna call Miss Paula and accuse her of fucking with my man. After I tell her about the proof I have, that bitch will be ready to give me the shirt off her back.”

Brick and Shane smiled in agreement. There was no denying it, Misty was devious and smart. No one would expect that a sweet-faced little child/woman like her could be so gansta.

“I’m gonna call her first and feel her out. Then I’ll set up the post office box tomorrow. Shit, depending on what she’s working with, this could be a regular source of income.”

“Aiight. You got it, Misty. Me and Brick gon’ let you handle this one.”

“Give me her number, Shane. But I need privacy to really put my thing down. I’ll call her when y’all go cop some weed.” Misty looked at the clock. “Y’all should go now, my mom will be home in a couple hours.”

Shane gave Misty the number, which she wrote down. They all left the house together because Misty didn’t want to use her house phone to engage in blackmail.

Using a pay phone inside a Laundromat on Baltimore Avenue, Misty called Paula.

“Hey whassup, Paula. How you doin,’ girl?”

“I’m fine. Who’s this?”

“This is Shane’s wife.”

The line went silent. “Are you still there, Paula?”

Paula cleared her throat. “Um, I didn’t know Shane had a wife.”

“Oh no? Not only does he have a wife, he has a very angry wife. A wife that just got finished looking at a video of you fucking him and sucking his dick. Now how do you think seeing that shit made me feel?”

There was silence.

“Oh, you ain’t got shit to say? Well, let me tell you something, Paula. I’m a jealous bitch and right now I’m fired up and ready to kick some ass.” Misty let out a deep breath. “But I’m too cute for all that, so you can calm the fuck down. Damn, I can hear your heart pounding all the way over here. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna drive over to Ellsworth Street. Not yet,” Misty said threateningly.

Paula gasped.

“Yeah, bitch. I know where you live,” Misty taunted. “You better hope I don’t come over there and blow up your crib.”

“How do you know where I live?”

“My husband tells me everything! He told me he only fucked you so you would give him the money to get
my
transmission fixed. Oops! Did he tell you he needed the money for
his
car? Yeah, well that was just game. When he left you, he came straight to me and gave me the money. I let him go back to your crib because he lied and told me y’all was just going to talk.” Misty paused. “I know…I know. I should have known better because I’m just as good looking as my husband and dudes be trying to pay to fuck me, too. Old dudes and young ones be all up in my grille trying to pay me the same way you like paying to be with my fine-ass husband.” Misty paused and let her words sink in.

“I really didn’t know Shane was married,” Paula said apologetically.

“Yeah, well now you know. So I figured…you being all old and washed up…I figured you just wanted some eye candy. Can’t say I blame you, with Mr.…um…what’s your husband’s name? You know, the ugly dude who drives the red truck. Mr. What’s His Name ain’t too easy on the eyes, is he? With an ugly-ass man like that coming home trying to hit it, I can’t say I blame you for trying to steal yourself some pretty dick. But you know what, Paula? There’s a penalty for accepting stolen goods.”

“What do you want?” Paula’s voice sounded anguished.

“I’ve already made three copies of the tape. One for your husband, one for your next-door neighbor, and one for your son. Your son’s away at college, isn’t he?”

Paula started crying. “Don’t do this to me. What do you want?” she screamed.

“Let’s put it this way…how much can you afford to pay—by the week?”

“You want me to give you money every week?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

“I’m not sure. This is such a surprise. I…”

“All right,” Misty said abruptly. “You figure it out; I’ll be calling you back in three days. Don’t disappoint me. Okay, sweetie?” Misty said with mocking laughter. “Oh, and by the way, I dug that black babydoll shit you had on. Shane liked it, too. He told me to find out where you bought it.” Misty paused, waiting for Paula to respond. Paula said nothing; she sniffled and made annoying whining sounds.

Pissed off by Paula’s sniveling, Misty went for the jugular. “You should be
ashamed of yourself for messing with my husband. Bitch, you’re old enough to be his mother!” Misty scolded. “Anyway,” she said in a softer tone, “Shane said that baby doll shit will look way better on me than it did on your big ass.” She laughed. “Now where the fuck did you get it?”

Still sniffling, Paula said, “I don’t remember where I bought it.”

“Yeah, well, think real hard and come up with an answer when I hit you up in three days. Smooches.” Misty made a kissing sound and hung up.

Misty began to jump up and down like an excited child when she saw Shane and Brick approaching. “I did it. That bitch is scared as shit.”

“What she say?” Brick asked.

“She said she gonna come up with the money. I’m gonna call her back in three days. In the meantime, I gotta fill out the paperwork for the post office box. I sure hope it don’t take a long time to get that shit hooked up.”

As the trio stood on the corner, laughing it up, a car filled with Hispanics of all ages—grandparents, teenagers, little kids, and a very pretty Hispanic woman—pulled up to the curb.

“Is that him, Valencia?” asked a mean-looking teen who jumped out of the car wielding a lead pipe.

“Yeah, that’s the muthafucker,” yelled Valencia, her eyes blazing as she climbed out of the backseat. She stood on the pavement with her arms folded. Her face was so contorted with rage, her beauty was completely disguised.

Shane stepped forward. “Yeah, whassup?”

“You know what you did, man. You borrowed money from my sister and didn’t pay it back.” There was a chorus of angry murmurs inside the car.

“So! Whatchu gonna do about it?” Misty asked brazenly. Pointing the index finger of both hands, she gestured confrontationally.

“Yo, Mami. This ain’t about you,” the teen said, giving Misty the brush-off.

“Why ain’t it?” Misty snarled. “You don’t roll up on my crew with a car fulla Ricans and expect us to back down. Fuck that.” She shot a hateful look toward Valencia. “Bitch, you got played, now be a big girl—suck it up,” Misty said with a smirk.

Valencia winced.

“Move it, bitch,” Misty hissed. She reached up and gripped the taller woman’s
shoulder and gave her a shove. Taken off guard, Valencia stumbled and swayed to the side. She glowered at Shane.

Shane sucked his teeth. “Yo, if I was you, I’d get back in that car,” he advised Valencia and then burst out in scornful laughter.

“You better hurry up; Misty has a short fuse,” Brick taunted. “Don’t let her size fool you. She’ll whip every ass inside that car if any one of y’all even looks at her the wrong way.”

Looking defeated and suddenly haggard, Valencia slid inside the car. An older Hispanic woman, probably her mother, patted Valencia comfortingly.

Sensing that Misty was unreasonable, Valencia’s brother directed an appeal to Shane. “Man, I just want to know if you’re going to pay my sister back; she got a little kid,” Valencia’s brother said. The teen’s voice had softened considerably. The metal pipe, which now seemed more like a prop than a weapon, hung limply at his side.

Brick suddenly snatched the pipe from the youth’s hand, collared him, and knocked him up against the car. “Man, don’t be comin’ at my man with no pipe. I’ll bash your muthafuckin head in.” The Hispanic family inside the car started yelling and screaming for Brick to leave the boy alone. “Oh Jesus, he’s going to kill Julio,” said the old woman who sat in the front passenger seat.

Valencia jumped out of the car. “Get the fuck off my brotha.” Brick pushed her aside like she was a rag doll.

Then Misty hit her. Right in the face. The punch from Misty’s small but powerful fist knocked Valencia on her behind.