Ruthless (14 page)

Both attorneys stand.

“Maria McCartney for the plaintiff, your Honor.”

“William Stratford for the defendant.”

The judge nods her head, then gets right down to business. “I will listen to testimony from both parties, review any evidence relating to this matter, then make my ruling accordingly. I see here
that a TRO was issued after an alleged altercation transpired between the alleged victim, Mrs. Tyler, and her husband, Mr. Tyler, the alleged aggressor, at her place of business. Is this correct?” She looks up from the bench over at my attorney.

Maria stands. “That is correct, Your Honor. Mr. Tyler entered my client's place of business and assaulted her during a verbal dispute in her office.” The judge wants to know if there were any witnesses. “Your Honor, patrons witnessed Mr. Tyler's agitation prior to the events leading up to my client's assault in her office. And they did, in fact, witness her bruises afterward when Mr. Tyler left the premises.”

Will stands to address the court. “Your Honor. My client loves his wife. And he wants nothing more than to reconcile their marriage and work out their differences.”

Maria scoffs, standing. “Well, Your Honor. What's love got to do with it when you can use your fist to show someone
just
how much you care? There will be no reconciliation. Prior to court, counsel was given divorce papers on behalf of my client to give to his client, Mr. Tyler. Mrs. Tyler has been living in a state of constant fear throughout her relationship with Mr. Tyler. And over the last two years, she reports things getting progressively worse. That the violence has escalated to physical altercations. The most recent one, as stated earlier, a little over a week ago…”

The judge peers over the rim of her glasses. “Mrs. Tyler, is this true?”

I stand, dabbing my eyes. I nod, sniffling. “Yes, Your Honor.” I pull out my Academy Award-nominated performance and give her waterworks. “I am terrified of my husband. Ever since he found out I'd cheated while he was incarcerated, he's changed.”

“How so?' the judge inquires, clasping her hands in front of her.

“He monitors everything I do. Has people tracking and following me.” I choke back a sob.
“He
constantly threatens me. And last week h-h-he c-c-came into my place of business and b-b-beat me.”

“Were the police called?” the judge wants to know. When I tell her no, she wants to know why not. Dumb bitch!

“Because I was afraid to. Jasper has threatened that h-h-he was going to have me
handled
if I told anyone what happened.”

Jasper glares over at me. “Fuckin' lyin'-ass. Yo, is this how ya snake-ass wanna do it, Pasha, huh? You really wanna get dirty?”

Judge Mobley scowls. “Mr. Tyler! You will watch your mouth in this courtroom, you understand? Or I will…”

“Your Honor,” Jasper's attorney interjects, quickly standing to his feet, “if I may address the court for a brief moment. My client insists his wife is fabricating untruths. He denies all accusations of ever being physically abusive. He denies any wrongdoing. And, in fact, my client argues that it is his wife who attacked him in her office once the door was closed behind them. Mrs. Tyler is a scorned woman who is simply trying to assassinate my client's character.”

The judge glares at him. “And
why
, counsel, would she want to do that?”

“My client feels…”

“And
your
client,” she scolds, cutting him off and pointing a finger at Jasper, “will have a chance to speak what he
feels
when I'm done with Mrs. Tyler. Understood?”

I shoot Wil a dirty look. He clears his throat. “Yes, Your Honor.” He sits his fine, chocolate ass back in his seat.

Bastard!

“Good.” The judge brings her attention back to me, softening her voice. “Continue Mrs. Tyler.”

“Umm, Your Honor,” Maria quickly interjects. “I'd like to submit
photos of bruises my client sustained during a brutal attack back in 2010. It is believed that my client's husband was behind the alleged attack.”

Mister Tall Dark and Bald aka Dark Stallion hops to his feet. “Your Honor, this is all hearsay. No charges were ever filed against my client. My client was by her side during that whole tragic ordeal.”

The judge gives him a “nigga-please-sit-your-fine-ass-down” look. “That may be true,” she says. “But judging by these horrific photos, it is evident that
someone
was behind this brutal attack.”

“And if I might add,” Maria says, “I also have photos of my client's most recent bruises from a week ago.” She hands them to the bailiff who gives them over to the judge.

I glance over and see Jasper whispering something to Wil. I quickly shift my eyes back to the judge who is shuffling through the photos, every so often glaring over at Jasper.

I grin inwardly.
Fuck with me if you want, nigga!

I start sobbing louder this time. “Y-y-our Honor. I-I-I j-j-just…” I pause, shaking my head and pulling in a deep breath. Maria reaches for my arm reassuringly. Oh, the stage is set lovely. Maria stands to address the court.

“Your Honor, as you can see, my client is extremely distressed. She wants no contact with her husband. And has asked that he stay away from her, and her place of business, as well as the marital home.” Maria requests that Jasper only be allowed supervised visitation with Jaylen down at the local police department. And that he not have any contact in writing or in person with any of my family members, particularly Nana.

Jasper springs to his feet. “Yo, c'mon, Pasha. Are you serious? What the
fuck
, yo?! You'd really stand up in this muhfucka ‘n' snake me like this, huh, yo? Tryna keep me from my muhfuckin' seed, yo. What the fuck?! You on tha bullshit, yo!”

Judge Mobley brings her gavel down on the bench. “Order in the court! Mr. Tyler, your outburst will not be tolerated in my courtroom. Another outburst like that and I will have you thrown out of my courtroom. Do I make myself clear?”

Jasper glares at the judge, taking his seat. I can see his jaw twitching from over here. I know him. He's about to blow his stack.

After a few tense seconds, the judge breaks their stare down, looking over at his attorney. “Counselor, I'd advise you to—”

Jasper stands up. Undoes his tie. “Yo, he ain't gotta advise me on
shit
, yo. Fuckin' trick! My fuckin' wife wanna play muthafuckin' games up in this muhfucka, like she scared of a muhfucka ‘n' shit. Ya ass wasn't scared when you was out there suckin' a buncha muhfuckas dicks, was you? Fuck outta here wit' this bullshit, yo, wit' ya cum-suckin' ass. How 'bout you tell these muhfuckas how you tried to bite off my muthafuckin' balls, yo.”

I hear a few gasps and “ohmygods” in back of us.

“Mr. Tyler, this is your
last
warning. That language will
not
be tolerated in this court,” Judge Mobley says sternly. “Now, take your seat.”

“Why the fuck you ain't mention that shit, huh, trick-ass? And fuck them muthafuckin' divorce papers, yo. I ain't signin' shit, dick-suckin' bitch!”

I cringe. Feel myself shrinking. This nigga has dragged me for filth for all to see. Turned my indiscretions, before a packed courtroom, into a Public Service Announcement. It takes everything in me to sit, stone-faced, my eyes glued to the judge's bench.

It isn't until Jasper storms out of the courtroom that I realize I am holding my breath. The spectators seated around us get an ear-and-eyeful, causing hushed whispers to fill the courtroom.

“My goodness,” Maria says, leaning over and whispering to me. “He's a real ball of fire, isn't he?”

I nod. My voice stuck somewhere in the back of my throat. I feel myself suffocating. Feel myself getting lightheaded. Air. I need air.

“Order!” the judge barks as she bangs her gavel. “Order in my courtroom, I said!”

I gasp, finally breathing, pulling in several deep breaths, stretching my burning lungs, slowly blowing out each breath, until my heart stops racing and I find a calming balance. I blink, glancing around the courtroom. Realization blooms into view. My lips curl into a triumphant smirk.

Jasper has handed me exactly what I wanted. His outburst has proven that he is a danger to my welfare and safety. And Jaylen's.

Dark Stallion attempts to apologize for
his client.
I roll my eyes. “Your Honor, please forgive my client's outburst. He's under a lot of emotional stress. He hasn't been home in over a week. And he hasn't been able to see his son. He misses his family.”

“Well, your client has a very strange way of showing it.” The judge peers at him, lifting her glasses from off the bridge of her nose. “Counselor, if
this
is any indication of how your client behaves in the presence of the court, I can only imagine how he is behind closed doors. He's lucky I don't hold him in contempt and have him hauled off in handcuffs. I'm ordering that your client, Mr. Tyler, attend anger management.”

“Yes, Your Honor. I'll be sure to inform him of such.”

“You do that.” She clears her throat. “Okay. After reviewing numerous photos of bruises, and given Mr. Tyler's lack of regard for this courtroom, and his aggressive outburst displayed before me, I find probable cause. And do hereby find that an act of domestic violence did occur against Mrs. Tyler…”

A sly smile eases over my glossed lips.
Oh, it's about to get ugly now,
I think as the judge grants me my final order of protection.
Real ugly…

A weak nigga will be blinded by greed, and misguided by lust…

“D
amn,” James says, unbuckling his brown leather belt, then unfastening his beige khakis, “I swear I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to feel your beautiful lips wrapped around my dick again. I feel like I'm about to die and go to heaven. This is all I've been thinking about since our phone conversation.”

Nigga, please!
I fight to keep from rolling my eyes. When I called his ass last Sunday, asking him to track down Mydikneeds Urtongue2's location, the first thing his horny-ass wanted to do was barter. One of my specialty dick-sucks for his IT service. The horny nigga didn't even want money, just my infamous lip, tongue, and throat work loaded with a bunch of this juicy spit and a whole lot of slobbering.

Now I know I could have found someone else to get the job done for me. And I'm sure Lamar knows someone who knows someone who's good at hacking into computers as well as accessing IP addresses, and everything else. But I didn't want anyone else.

I
wanted
him.

I guess, subconsciously, when I rushed back to the salon, tearing up my office to locate his card, a part of me wanted to feel his dick stuffed down in the back of my throat, one more time.

So here I am.

At his office.

Up on the eighteenth floor, overlooking a magnificent view of the city.

Eight o'clock in the evening.

On a Friday night.

With Lamar outside, waiting.

“A deal's a deal, right,” I say, pressing him up against the floor-to-ceiling window, then slinking down to my knees. He's concerned someone will see his bare ass cheeks plastered against the glass. I tell him to stop worrying. That the only things that'll see him this high up are birds and planes.

I glance up at him. Flutter my long lashes while roughly yanking down his pants along with his gray boxer briefs. His thick, curved dick is already hard as it springs forward, then swings slightly to the right, bobbing in anticipation. Its veins bulging.

“Oooh, look at this pretty black dick,” I say, grabbing it at the base with my right hand, then easing my left hand over the shaft while licking my lips. I stroke it, slow and sensual, caressing it with loving care.

“Yeah, you like that big dick, don't you, baby?”

I nod my head, glancing up at him. Coyly. “Uh-huh. I love it.” I stroke it some more. It's hot and heavy. “Oooh, it feels so good in my hands. It's so thick and hard.”

“Yeah, what you gonna do for daddy's big black snake, baby?”

I silently roll my eyes up in my head.
Daddy? Nigga, please.

Niggas kill me with that daddy shit. Then again, I can't really fault him, or them, since it's bitches like me who stay gassing their heads up and keep them believing they're some-damn-body's
daddy
.

Like now…

“I'm gonna make daddy's big black dick throb and pulse. I'm
gonna wet it up real good for you,
daaaddiiiiiie,
then suck the cum out of it. Then I'm gonna smear your nut all over my pretty lips. I'm gonna paint my mouth with your sweet thick nut, daddy.”

I slither my tongue along his piss slit. He's already leaking sticky precum. James is a nonsmoker and the fact that he doesn't use any type of drugs is evident in the way his clear, stringy nectar tastes. Sweet.

“Aaaah, shit, yeah. That's what I'm talking about. I want you to freak daddy's big dick with them pretty-ass lips and that tight-ass throat.”

Ohmygod, this computer geek is a real undercover freak.

I kiss the tip of his dick. Flick my long tongue over it. Then suction my lips ever so slight over it, allowing my tongue to swirl figure-eights over and around it. His walnut-size balls tighten as my fingers slide behind them, moving in slow, taunting circles. There's something disturbing to me about a nigga having a big dick and a small ball sac. The two just don't seem to fit. Whatever!

I cup them, then tug lightly.

James groans low in his throat. Less than two minutes and I already got the nigga going through it. And, in one swift motion, I unlatch my jaws and swoop my hungry mouth over his dick and gulp him down. His whole dick disappears inside my mouth. I release him from my throat, my lips gliding over the length of him as I pull his dick up to the tip, then gulp him back in.