For the Strength of You (11 page)

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Authors: Victor L. Martin

BOOK: For the Strength of You
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“Fuck all that,” Teck said. “We wouldn't be so behind if you hadn't fucked up most of the $287,000 we robbed Tammy of from the first heist!”
Kristi rolled her eyes. “That still isn't an excuse to kill.”
“Like you got a damn conscience now. You driving a Lex with blood money.”
“This is a bunch of crap,” she huffed. “Whatchu say!”
“Nothing. Just drop the issue.”
He switched the TV off and told her to shut up and undress. Reluctantly, she did as he asked.
Back in Constance's room, she was having the same conversation with Wallo, and she, too, wanted to know why they had killed Tammy. She just couldn't understand it, especially after the way shit backfired with Doughnut. Plus, she didn't receive her usual cut and was tired of all this robbing with nothing to show for it. Sure, she had a new Benz, but she was still struggling to make ends meet.
At first things were okay, but then they started to get out of hand. Now she felt like they were robbing for anything. Now they were making licks for something as petty as five grand. Constance was starting to get a bad feeling about the entire setup. Sure, she loved Wallo and had a baby with him, but she would quickly draw the line when it came to going to prison because of him. Ride or die was not on her mind. She knew how Anshon felt about his sister, and she had lost a lot of respect for her man behind Tammy's death.
Kristi was now afraid of Teck, and her building fear pushed her toward betrayal. She loved him, but not that much. She agreed with anything he said to avoid beef. She was relieved when he got tired of her attitude and left.
She got out of bed and went to her sister's room. Wallo had just left out on his motorcycle. Now Kristi and Constance were alone and scared. They quickly devised a plan to make sure they wouldn't go down when the shit hit the fan.
* * *
Monica surprised Anshon when he got home. He was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when she came in with her birth control pills in her hand. He watched her flush them down the toilet.
“Anshon, I want a baby,” she said with tears in her eyes.
It was a subject they had already spoken on, and Anshon was with it. They made love in the bathroom then moved to their bedroom. Each stroke, he told her how much he loved her and that she was the only woman for him. Although he had to keep pushing thoughts of Fe-Fe out of his mind, he was serious about what he told Monica.
Her nails dug into his waist as she clung to him. Monica was madly in love with Anshon and would do anything for him. She was whole-heartedly committed to him.
Earlier when Anshon was in Raleigh with Wood C and Deck, she drove to a gun shop in Benson and bought a pump that was now under the bed. She'd kill for her man, and when he planted his seed deep inside her, she cried out his name while her pussy exploded with pleasure.
* * *
Fe-Fe slid out of bed, trying to shake thoughts of Anshon from her mind. She tipped down the hall and peeked into the bedroom she'd fixed up for her sons. Her cousin had agreed to let them come and stay with her for a while. Fe-Fe couldn't wait.
As she walked on the cold floor, she felt a chill go up her spine. She'd been sick for a little over a week now, and her breasts had been sore for a while. She reached in her bathroom cabinet and pulled out a pregnancy test kit she had purchased at Wal-Mart.
This was actually the second test she'd bought this week. The first test she took, she swore the results were wrong. Being that she was feeling better, she thought she'd try it again. She pissed on the tab then waited for the sign.
“Damn!” she muttered a few minutes later. It was just like the first one. “Fendisha Lloyd,” she said to herself, “how the hell did you let this happen?”
Right away, there was no question of who the child's father was. The only problem would be telling him.
Chapter 9
Anshon woke up with a lot on his mind. He was thinking about Larrisha and if she could really lead him to the muthafuckers that took his sister's life. He had no doubt in his mind that he would kill again, but he had to control his temper or else Monica would be paying him visits in the Central Prison, and that was not what he wanted.
He remained still about an hour and then slowly he slid the covers down Monica's waist until her soft, bodacious brown ass was fully exposed. He licked his fingers then raised his hand and brought it down hard.
Monica woke up screaming and rubbing her stinging butt cheek as Anshon rolled out of bed before she could retaliate.
“Boy!” she shouted. “That shit hurt. I'ma get your ass!” She kicked the covers off and jumped out of the bed, tits and ass bouncing everywhere, and it was a lovely sight to see.
Since he had a head start on her, he was able to slam and lock the bathroom door in her face.
“Be out in a sec!” he shouted through the door, laughing as she pounded on the door. “Dat ass hot, ain't it?” He laughed.
“You can't stay in there all day!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll holla at ya later, princess.” He flipped the lid on the toilet and took a long, relaxing piss that made him tingle and twitch at the end.
“Open the door,” she pleaded. “I gotta pee.”
“Hol' up, shawtie.”
“For real! I gotta pee real bad!” she pleaded.
“If I let you in . . . can I look?” he asked.
“Look at what?”
“Look at you pee.”
“Boy, I don't care.”
“A'ight, but don't cut one loose up in here.” He laughed. He was still butt-ass naked when he unlocked the door and opened it. There stood his thick-ass girl, naked, with a smile on her face and a plastic cup of ice cold water.
“Aaaaaaaargh!” Anshon yelled as Monica doused his ass. He cringed as the cold water shocked him from head to toe. “That shit was cold!” he said through clenched teeth.
Monica burst out with laughter as the empty cup fell from her hands. She was still laughing as she pushed past him to take a piss after flipping the seat back.
“We even now?” Monica said as she finished using the bathroom.
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his ass. “I'm jumpin' in the shower.”
Monica waited until he closed the curtain and turned the water on before she flushed the toilet.
“Slide over, Bookie,” she said, joining him in the shower. They took turns cleaning each other from head to toe.
“French toast or pancakes?” she asked, wringing her rag out as Anshon stood under the shower. She liked to look at his naked muscular body that turned her on with ease and took care of her needs 24/7.
“Pancakes,” he said, wiping water from his eyes.
“Um . . . bacon or sausage?”
“Both.”
“Boy, make up your mind!” she said, popping his ass with the rag. She reached out and rubbed the spot before he could do it himself. “That better?”
“Yes.” He nodded, still wiping water from his face. “I'll take bacon.” He made his mind up.
She already knew the rest—scrambled cheese eggs, grits with breakfast sausage from the can, and toast.
“Monica.” His body glistened from the creamy baby oil Monica had rubbed on him as they stood in the middle of the bathroom.
“Um, what?”
“I love you,” he said, caressing her oily breasts.
“I love you more, Bookie.”
As they ate breakfast, the temperature outside was creeping up to eighty-nine degrees.
“What's up for today?” Monica asked, lounging on the sofa in a pair of Triple S high school gym shorts and a tank top.
“We can work on the baby all day,” he said, crunching on a piece of bacon.
“Now that sounds like a good idea. But I'm on top first.” Monica laughed as the phone rang. She reached across him, picked it up, and handed it directly to Anshon. It was Wood C.
“Holla.”
“Yo,” Wood C said, “I ran into the twins at the Waffle House last night.”
“What happened?” Anshon moved to the sofa.
“Teck was there, and he wanted to shake on the beef. He wanted it squashed.”
“Word?” Anshon was surprised because Teck wasn't known to cop a plea.
“Yeah. We went to check on Lori's party. He told me to call you and try to let the shit die. He said y'all go way back and that Wallo was in the wrong. You know how shit be.”
“What about Deck?”
“Called him over the phone.”
“Good. That's less stress I gotta worry about.”
“I feel ya. But yo,” Wood C said, “let me know the deal 'bout what ol' girl Larrisha say. You know I'm wit'cha on layin' down whoever—”
“Yeah, I gotcha,” Anshon said, cutting him off. The thought of Tammy made him wanna cry. “Biggie said it best,” he added.
“Somebody gots ta die!” they said simultaneously.
“Anshon,” Monica said when she saw him press the
END
button on the phone.
“Yeah?”
“Would you . . . really kill somebody?”
Anshon laid the phone on the table. “Don't ask me nothing like that, princess.”
She lowered her head. “I wish none of this had happened. What if something go wrong and you end up in prison?”
“Princess—”
“Wait.” She looked at him. “What about me, Anshon? I know you loved your sister . . . but we both know how she felt about you going back to prison. That night we went out to get some beer, she was telling me to not let you stay in the game.”
“Monica, have I been selling anything since Tammy died?”
“No.”
“A'ight then, case closed.”
She reached out to touch his shoulder. “Baby, I don't wanna see you go to prison.”
“Shut the fuck up!” he exploded. “She wasn't your goddamn sister!”
Before Monica could calm Anshon down, he had thrown on his clothes, snatched his keys off the table, and headed for the door.
“Anshon, wait!” Monica shouted, running to the door. When she grabbed his shirt, he turned and twisted from her grip. “Baby, please don't leave!” Tears filled her eyes as she stood on the porch, watching him get into his car. “Anshon!” she pleaded as he rolled out the driveway.
* * *
Anshon didn't make it back home until 9:30 p.m. He'd been riding around for hours. He felt bad leaving Monica the way he had, and he knew he needed to go back home and apologize.
As soon as he opened the door, he paused at the sight of countless burning candles. All of the furniture was moved into the kitchen. He closed the door. When his eyes adjusted to the dim lit setting, he saw several pillows and silk sheets in the middle of the floor. Just as he was about to call Monica's name, Kem's “Love Calls” came from the back room, followed seconds later by Monica appearing in the hallway.
Anshon was speechless as she walked toward him. Her skin was glowing with oil, and her sexy brown body was covered with a purple J-Lo lace thong and a sheer matching corset. Her cleavage was big enough to catch and seduce Anshon's eyes with ease. On her feet were a pair of purple stilettos. His hard dick beat his mouth to the apology he owed her.
“Shhhh.” She started to undress him. “Don't you ever in your life leave me again, Anshon.” She pulled his shirt off and made him step out of his pants. “Tonight, we ain't gonna do no talking. I'ma show and prove my love, not lust, but love for you.” She pulled him to the floor and let nature take its course.
* * *
Fe-Fe was surprised when Teck showed up at her front door. She hadn't seen him since last month, nor had she wasted her time in calling his ass. She was home alone, dressed in nothing but her Champion T-shirt.
“What's up?” she asked, letting him in.
“Just thought I'd swing by to see how you doin',” he said, looking at her bare legs. He knew she probably sported some panties under that shirt. “Got company?” he asked.
“Fool, you think I'd let your ass in if I had company?”
“Shit, you walking around in your T-shirt with no panties on.” He grinned, flipping the hem of her shirt up.
“'Cause it's my damn house! Even if it is a fifty-dollar-a-month Section Eight spot. The shit is mine!” She flicked the lights on.
“What happened to your tattoo? The eagle on your shoulder?” She pointed to his bare arms. He was wearing a wife beater.
“I had it removed.”
She looked at him again, and for a moment, she could've sworn that he was Wallo. Wallo and Teck may have been identical twins, but most people could tell them apart by the way they acted, but right at this moment, Fe-Fe didn't know the difference.
“Damn . . . why you lookin' at me all crooked?” he asked.
“Do you see what time it is?” She folded her arms.
He glanced at his watch. “It's 11:15 p.m. Oh, you got a bed time?”
“Look, I ain't stayin' up all damn night. What do you want?”
“I just wanna see you.” He stepped toward her, but she stopped him with a stiff arm.
“It ain't like that no more,” she snapped.
“C'mon, baby.” He reached for her thigh.
“I said no!” She pushed his hand away. She hoped he wouldn't notice her nipples getting hard.
“Fe-Fe, damn,” he protested. “I really been thinkin' about you.”
“Nigga, please!” she exclaimed. “You need to be missin' the freaks you got in Durham, so don't come at me with that lame game.”
“You think I'm runnin' game? Word on my life I wanna get back wit' you.”
She laughed in his face. “Who you think you foolin'?”
He took a glance and slid closer. “Fe-Fe, I'm the deal real. What I gotta do to prove it? Fuck them freaks in Durham.”
“Teck, you come on a booty call and talkin' 'bout you wanna be with me. All you want is the bomb pussy. You don't give a damn about me.”
“Listen, baby, believe me. I know I fucked up and let the paper get to my head, but I got on my feet because of you, baby. I want to make it like it used to be. You and me, fuck everything else. Let a nigga prove it.” He moved his hand to her warm, soft thigh and grinned at the two imprints of her nipples.
Fe-Fe looked into his eyes as he slid his hand higher up her thigh. When he moved closer, she moved away from him until her back touched the arm of the couch. She felt his fingers rub against her pussy lips. She opened her legs. Then she changed her mind.
“No, Teck, no!” Tammy's death flashed into her mind. In Fe-Fe's heart, she felt like Teck and Wallo had something to do with Tammy's death.
“You fuckin' bitch!”

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