Luxe (29 page)

They left me. They can't leave me here!!! Did they leave me?

She panicked as she hit the glass with a flat hand in frustration. She ran to the parking lot, her bare feet hitting the pavement hard as her mind slowly came to the realization that her friends had left her on stuck. She hoped that they had gone for a morning swim or that they had gone to get food, but intuition told her that they had deserted her. Bree and China weren't coming back for her. She was on her own. When she saw that the car was nowhere to be found she fell to her knees right in the middle of the road. She didn't know what to do. She had no one and, as fear and loneliness crept into her soul, she felt a pang of need in her gut. She had gotten a taste of the most devastating drug in the world and it was calling for her. It was telling her that it would soothe her worried heart. It would make her brave. It would help her plot her next move. It would make her feel so good. It would just.…

She sighed. Bleu wanted it so badly that her nipples hardened at the thought. She climbed to her feet and ran back to her room to gather her belongings. There was no doubt in her mind that someone had found Cinco's body by now. Would Iman come after her? Would Cinco's family? The cartel? Paranoia nipped at her until she found herself throwing clothes frantically into her bag. She had to get back across the border. If she could just make it to her stash she would be okay. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she threw on a leather jogging suit and wedge sneakers. She didn't even take the time to wash the trails of mascara off of her face before she crossed her duffel bag over her body and left the room. She was scatterbrained and afraid. She couldn't focus. She was already hooked to the high and she didn't even know it. She was running for her life, but even if she escaped the wrath that would come behind Cinco's murder she couldn't escape herself.

*   *   *

“All this week we're going to learn about the benefits of healthy financial credit.…”

The degree program would have actually held some weight if Noah could focus, but the things that Naomi did to entice him were a blatant distraction. She was beautiful, not in a girl-next-door type of way either. She was downright sexy and now that he was in her presence again he couldn't get the picture of her out of his mind. Noah wanted her in the worst way. In the way that said she was his bitch. He wanted to stake his claim, but there wasn't much that a jailbird could do with a girl like Naomi. She was the type of woman who would leave a nigga lovesick.

“A guard is going to escort you to the library one by one so that you can work with Naomi on pulling your credit report. At the end of the week we will go over each of them in class. Noah Langston … you're up first.”

Noah stood and headed in the direction of the guard. Luckily for Noah, it was one he had on his payroll. He walked ahead of the guard while Naomi walked behind him. No one spoke. Noah knew that the eye in the sky was always on, so he played his position as the model inmate as he made his way to the library. When they entered the library Noah turned to the guard. Keeping his voice low, he said, “A little distance would be appreciated.”

The guard's eyes moved around the empty room.

“Of course I'm a man that remembers favors,” Noah stated. “A small package under your car seat this week would suffice?”

“I'll be outside the door. You've got thirty minutes before you have to be back,” the guard stated.

Noah nodded and the guard turned to leave the room. It was literally the first time in months that Noah didn't have eyes on him. The privacy felt awkward as he instinctively looked up toward the camera. He walked toward Naomi, who was browsing through the books. The height of the wooden shelves obstructed the view of anyone who might be watching.

She felt like prey as Noah walked on one side of the shelf while gazing through the gaps in the books, trying to get a glimpse of her on the other side. Finally they met at the end and he grabbed her hand, roughly pulling her into him, his body on brick as she gasped in shock. When their lips met it was electric and his hand hungrily roamed her body, with him appreciating the feel of a woman. His hands slipped skillfully up her thighs as he slipped her panties to the side. At any minute they could be caught, but neither of them cared. It added to the intensity of it all. She wanted this. He wanted this. A thick fog of lust hung in the air as he slid into her wetness. Sheer ecstasy. That's what her tightness felt like. It was slick with her natural honey as her strong thighs worked slightly as he held her up. They found their rhythm. It was fast, guttural, animalistic. Noah didn't mean to be rough with her, but it had been too long since he had been inside of a woman. He was chasing the orgasm. His girth parted the delicate folds of her, causing her face to contort in pleasure. She bit her lip to stop herself from calling his name.

He buried his head in the nook of her neck as her perfume infused his senses. They were on a race to the finish line and he hoped she made it first, because he couldn't hold out much longer. When she felt her body tense and a flood of her warmth he dug deeper, and deeper, and harder, until—

“Shit, ma,” he whispered as he placed his forehead against hers as he spilled his seed inside of her. They both panted, out of breath, as they adjusted their clothes.

“Don't fall in love,” she said. She pecked him on the lips and gave him a flirtatious smile before sashaying out of the room.

“We're done here,” she told the guard as she disappeared into the hall.

Noah wiped his goatee as he smirked to himself. She was so hard, so real. He had to have it. She wasn't the type of chick you could take score on. He had smashed, but you couldn't count that as a win. She was too seasoned, too unattached, too thorough to see it as anything more than what it was … sex. The only way to conquer her was to capture her heart. He saw through the tough visage. He knew that if he was wise he would heed her warning, but he wanted her and he would have her. It was only a matter of time.

 

24

The only time Bleu could calm the craving was when she was unconscious, so she slept as the bus drove her back to L.A. The nightmares of what had occurred plagued her sleep, but still she didn't want to open her eyes. The entire way she told herself that she would never smoke again, but her bubbling gut told her otherwise. It was only a matter of time before she indulged again. Even if it was only to take the sting of reality away … she wanted it. Filled with nervous energy, she climbed off the bus, looking over her shoulder as she made her way to her parked car. The darkness enveloped the parking structure as she made her way up the ramp. She stopped walking briefly, rummaging through her bag to find her keys, but when she heard footsteps behind her she froze. She spun on her heels as a sudden fear seized her. With one hand in her bag, clutching the small vial of pepper spray, her heart pounded. The echoes of footsteps stopped. She looked around frantically, wondering how many of Cinco's goons had come to avenge him. She sped up, half-running, half-walking, as she tried to get to her car.

“Hey!” The voice behind her was a harsh whisper, and when she looked back a hooded figure was walking toward her in haste. She took off at a full sprint, popping her locks repeatedly. Her heart had never beaten so fast as she opened the door and hopped inside, trying to pull the door closed.

“Hey! Hey! Chill the fuck out; it's me!” The man appeared at her side, pulling the door open violently before she got a chance to lock it.

“Bree!” she shouted, half-pissed, half-relieved, as she got out of the car and pushed him in frustration. “What the fuck?! Why did y'all leave me there?! Where the fuck is China?” Bleu couldn't control her volume as her emotions took over. Her fear dissipated into anger.

Bree gripped her by both arms, shaking her. “Chill the fuck out!” he barked.

“Don't tell me to fucking chill,” she spat as she snatched herself away from him. “Y'all left me in Mexico after we—”

“I said we don't talk about that,” Bree interrupted, fire dancing in his eyes, threatening to slap the shit out of her if she dared to speak of the dirty deeds they had committed. “That bitch beat me for my bread, hid my passport, and left me in Mexico. I need to hold something.”

“You leave me on stuck and now you want to hold something? You got me really fucked up, Bree. Kick rocks,” she said as she got back in her car and attempted to close the door.

“What if I get you some of that shit you was on?” Bree asked, stopping her in her tracks. The glint in her eyes gave her away and Bree knew he had her. “That wasn't no meth you was on, Detroit. What was it? Heroin or crack?” he asked.

Her lip quivered as embarrassment filled her. “I don't know what you talking about; move,” she said, attempting to pull her door shut.

He forced it open. “Don't front, Bleu. You're edgy, jumpy. I can see that you want it. Your eyes got big as golf balls from the thought,” he said. “I move dope; you think I don't know that look?”

“How much do you need?” she asked, willing to sell her soul to the devil for just another little taste.

“Just a few thousand to get out of town,” Bree stated.

She could have easily spent $20 to buy a hit, but she didn't know where to go or who to see and, more important, she was too embarrassed to walk up to someone and buy it herself. So she would give Bree what he asked for, just to save face.

“I want my shit first,” she snapped.

*   *   *

When Bleu pulled up to skid row she gripped the steering wheel as her anxiety caused her chest to tighten. Bree looked over at her, feeling slightly guilty, but he still popped open the car door and sauntered down the block in search of someone to cop from.

Bleu shook, she was so terrified. The fact that she wanted a fix so badly made tears come to her eyes. She looked down the alley. There were hundreds of people, huddled sadly along the city street. Most of them were drunks or addicts, some just down on their luck, all of them thrown away by society. She jumped when a woman tapped on her window. Bleu looked out but didn't roll down the window. The woman's bloodshot eyes stared into Bleu's, her clothes filthy, her hair stringy and greasy, her lips so dry they were bleeding and cracked. Bleu was staring into the eyes of a fiend, and she couldn't help but wonder if her mother looked anything like this woman by now. She was witnessing what crack would do to her. It was right there staring her in the face, warning her not to ever take another hit, and still she had the urge. It was like an irritating itch that she just had to scratch. A tear fell down her face because she just wanted not to feel. She didn't want to feel the disappointment from failing at UCLA or the heartbreak from trusting Iman. She didn't want to miss Noah's presence in her life. She didn't want to feel … period. Crack was like a happy pill. It filled her to the brim with an orgasmic rush. The only problem was, it didn't last long enough. She had to constantly feed her high in order to maintain her vibe.
Damn, I hope he gets enough,
she thought. She rolled down her window.

“Do you have any spare change?” the woman asked.

The old Bleu would have said no. She would have been quick to judge the woman and turn up her nose. In her current state, Bleu empathized with her. Bleu was saddened for her because she knew that the woman was at the beginning of the long road named addiction. Bleu pulled out a ten-dollar bill and passed it to the woman, who snatched it up quickly before scurrying away into the chaos of the night.

Bree crossed in front of Bleu's car and then slid into the passenger seat. “I got it; let's go,” he said.

Bleu pulled off as she held out her hand. Bree passed her a stem. “You'll get the dope when you keep up your end of the bargain.”

“Bree, just give it to me! Damn!” she protested, irritable.

Bree leaned against the passenger-side door and peered at Bleu. He was taken aback by her persistence. This wasn't the same sharp girl he had met months ago. “You know what, Bleu? I'm good on the cash; just pull over. You can let me out right here. You're fucked up right now. You need to get a grip. This shit will kill you, and if it don't, you're gonna wish it does. It'll have you walking around here like the walking dead,” he said. “I'll take my chances out here. I'm not contributing to this bullshit. This ain't gon' be on my conscience.”

She pulled over abruptly, causing cars behind her to swerve, to barely miss rear-ending her. “Now you want to develop a conscience? You ain't have no problem leaving me on stuck in Mexico. Get the fuck out then!” she shouted, feeling judged as tears came to her eyes. “Leave it on the seat.”

Bree shook his head as he tossed the dope across the car, hitting her in the face before slamming the door. “Do yourself a favor and get out of town before Cinco's people find you. The way you're headed, you'll kill yourself before they even get to you.”

“Fuck you, Bree,” she sneered as she sped out into traffic, burning rubber as she left him in her rearview mirror.
He acts like I'm a crackhead or something. I can handle myself,
she thought. She sped through the city streets, headed toward the school. She needed to grab the money she had stashed and a few of her belongings. She had no idea where she was going to run to. It felt like she had spent her entire life running away. She had run from Flint to L.A., and all of her dreams were supposed to come true. Instead of dreams she had found nightmares, and now she was on the run again … headed to nowhere … fast.

*   *   *

“No, no, no, no, no!” Bleu shouted as she tossed expensive shoes from her closet while rifling through the boxes, looking for her stash. She had hidden $20,000 in her closet, but it was nowhere to be found.

“Bitch,” she muttered, knowing that China had beaten her to it. Bleu slumped to the floor and planted her face in her hands, distressed. It was her rainy day fund, and life had brought about a sudden downpour. She had nothing and no one. She needed that money to get by until she could figure out what her next move would be. She had never anticipated her hustle would end so suddenly. Dough had been pouring in by the boatloads for months, but now she was right back where she had started … broke. She couldn't even get lost without money to help her hide. She stood up and walked through the bathroom that connected her room to Aysha's.
Maybe she will let me borrow some money until I land on my feet,
she thought. She was desperate. She didn't have a choice but to ask for help. She knocked on the door.