Ruthless (25 page)

In my peripheral vision I see Lamar flinch and turn as a bloodcurdling noise escapes the back of Legend's throat. His face is contorted. Tears spring from his eyes before he passes out. I wait. Give it time for the electrical flames to subside, then slap his sweat-soaked face. “Wake the fuck up,” I hiss. His lids rapidly flutter, barely opening. “I'm going to ask you some questions. And you only have one shot at giving me the correct answers, before I light your balls up again. You understand me, fucker?”

He slowly nods. I ask him if he knows the nigga, AJ. He nods again. I ask the same about that nigga, Vernon. He looks away, slowly shaking his head. It doesn't matter if he's lying or not since I already know where to find him. Next I ask him if that crazy nigga Knutz was down in the basement, too, with the rest of them niggas. He hesitates, but gets his mind together and nods his answer when I move the Taser back toward his balls.

I step back from him. He looks as if he wants me to end it all right here. Put him out of his misery once and for all. Something buzzes. Lamar and I shoot each other a look, then cast our eyes in the direction of the sound. I walk over and pick up a pair of True Religion jeans, fishing his cell from out of his front pocket, then glancing at the screen. It's some trick calling, most likely either for some pussy, drugs, or both. I toss the phone over to Lamar. He scrolls through the phone.

I pull out my gun, screw on the silencer, then shoot this nigga in his left knee. He tries to scream out his agony, but it's all a garbled mess of grunts. “See, I shot you in your knee because I can't trust you not to try and kick and fight when I untie your leg. And if you keep it up, I'm going to bust you in your other knee.”

I grab the dildo and lube it up. Legend's eyes pop open. He's grunting, again, thrashing his head. I ask Lamar to help me. Tell him I need for him to untie this nigga's left leg, then pull it all the way up to his chest. Then I ram all ten inches of the dildo into him, tearing the seam of his asshole open, fucking him mercilessly.

I leave the dick lodged into his ass, reach for the scalpel. I watch his bloodshot, tear-filled eyes flood with panic and pleading desperation.

“Too late for apologizes,” I say, climbing up into the bed between his legs. “You're a nut too late,” I grab his nut sac, “and now two balls too short…”

I slice down into the center of his scrotum. His body jerks. His wrists and ankles are badly cut and bloody. His jaws tighten around the gag. “You were a pussy for doing what you did to me…” He is sweating profusely. The agonizing pain ripping through his body as I slice him open, then pop out one of his large, slimy balls. “And now I'm going to give you one…”

Nothing's sacred in the pursuit of street justice…

Seven a.m., Saturday morning, my vibrating phone awakens me. Without looking at the caller ID, I answer groggily.

“I knew I shoulda never trusted ya slut-ass…”

I blink, jolting up in bed. “Are you
fucking
kidding me? Nigga, why are you fuc—”

“Nah, shut the fuck up ‘n' listen. You duped a muhfucka, got me all caught up in the matrix believin' you was different from all them other bitches I was fuckin' wit'. Outta all the bitches, I gave
you
my muhfuckin' heart, Pasha. Gave
you
all'a me, yo. You…”

“Do you see what the hell time it is?”

I take a deep breath. Push it out slowly. I am too exhausted to argue with him. Too emotionally drained. I literally climbed into bed with a banging headache—the image of Legend's convulsing body, wire-clawed genitals, and sliced open balls all stained into my memory—less than forty minutes ago.

I am still trying to absorb everything that happened last night, everything
I
made happen with the help of Lamar. The memory of the blood and the jagged clawing into his skin and the pained expression on his face and the fear in his eyes and his fingers—all ten of them cut off at the first knuckle, scattered about the room, leaves a bittersweet taste of justice served to that nigga
L
in the back of my throat.

Out of all the niggas who were down in that basement that night, I loathed him the most. Torturing him aroused me. Watching him suffer excited me.

“Fuck outta here, yo,” Jasper snaps, cutting into my reverie. “Fuck what time it is! You a fuckin' smut, yo. This is me ‘n' you, Pasha. Drop the bullshit, yo. You fuckin' shitted on me! You a fuckin' dick-suckin' bitch, yo.” His voice cracks. “Why you have'ta be a fuckin' smut, yo, ‘n' be out there suckin' niggas dick ‘n' shit, huh? Fuckin' slut-ass…”

He sounds like he's high out of his mind. Sounds like the nigga's been up all night somewhere, smoking and drinking, and doing God knows what else. He sounds desperate, like a nigga on the verge of snapping.

I hold my breath. Close my eyes. My grip tightens around my cell. I know I should hang up on him. But I don't. I want to hear him out. Need to hear him out—for me, maybe for him.

But why?

“All the bitches I coulda been wit' ‘n' I end up wit' ya scandalous ass. And you end up bein' the fuckin' messiest outta e'ery last one of 'em broads, yo. You grimy as hell, Pasha. You know that, right?”

I have another call ringing through. It's Stax.

I sigh. “Jasper, we've already gone over this. Yes, I know. I know all about how
I
fucked
you
over. I am very much aware of how scandalous I am; how messy I've become.
Yes
, I'm a cum-guzzler. Yes, I'm a no-good, dick-sucking bitch. I cheated on you, Jasper. I hurt you. I know this. I've heard it more than enough times from you to never forget it. There's nothing I can do about it. It's done. I can't change it.

“So why are you calling me
now
, at
this
time of the morning with the
same
shit? It's already been established that you're hurt. At
least I've admitted to what I've done to you. I take full responsibility for what I did then. And for what I'm doing
now
. But you still refuse to take responsibility for your shit. Sign the divorce papers so we can both go our separate ways. I don't even care about the names of them niggas anymore. All I want is for you to let me go. You can have every dime of your money.”

“Fuck that muhfukin' paper you stole from me, yo. I wanna see my fuckin' son!”

I take a deep breath. “I didn't steal shit, Jasper. I simply relocated it for insurance.”

He blows a breath into the phone, sounding as if he's smoking a blunt.

“Nah, you stole from me, yo. You stole my trust. My fuckin' heart. You a fuckin' thief, yo. You even tryna take my fuckin' son away from me. You a real fuckin' heartless, snake-ass bitch, Pasha. You've fuckin' takin' e'erything from me, yo. E'ery-fuckin'-thing I thought
I
was comin' home to
you
sucked out through some muhfucka's dick. I fuckin'
hate
you for doin' that shit, Pasha. Fuckin' bitch, yo!”

I swallow.

“Jasper, I'm hanging up on you. I'm—”

“Fuck outta here, Pasha. Fuck you hangin' up for, huh, bitch? What, you got some nigga's hard dick in ya hand you tryna swallow, huh? You did this shit to us, yo. You stabbed me in the fuckin' chest. You're the worst fuckin' bitch I've ever had!”

I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head. I feel myself starting to unravel. “No, Jasper. I'm the
match
you've never had. I'm no more scandalous or messy than
you
. You're a ruthless nigga, Jasper. We
both
did this to
us
.
We
stabbed each other using the same knife. I know I hurt you. But what about how you've hurt
me
, huh? Do you
still
think having me kidnapped and locked down in some fucking basement to be sexually tortured by a bunch of goons was justified, huh, Jasper?

“Did
I
fucking
deserve
to be attacked and almost beat to death for cheating on you? You could have just beaten me, Jasper! I could have handled the physical scars. What
you
did to
me
cut deep into me, Jasper! Every nigga you commanded to shove his dick into my mouth helped
you
strangle my spirit. I've spent almost a year-and-a-half of my life, dying inside because of
you
, nigga.”

“Then it won't fuckin' matter when I take e'erything that's ever mattered to you before I fuckin' kill you.”

The line goes dead.

• • •

“Nana, please. I'm begging you. Jasper is crazy. I didn't want to tell you. But if something happens to me, I want you to know that Jasper's behind it. He's responsible for what happened at the estate. He had those men murdered, Nana.”

She gasps. “Dear God! And the fire? Are you saying he burned down your home, too?”

“Yes, Nana. That's exactly what I'm saying.”

It's another half-truth to add to my basket of lies. But I'm desperate. I need Nana safe. And I'm willing to say whatever I need to in order to get her to understand that it isn't safe for her to be over there in that house alone. Although I have hired someone to be parked outside at all times to keep watch, it's not enough. I want her as far away as possible. Out of Jasper's reach.

“But why?”

I tell her because he wanted to get inside of the house to get things out of his safes, but I refused to let him. Then I share with
her bits and pieces of what I've been dealing with, like the drive-by shooting in front of the salon a few weeks back.

“Lord God! Then why isn't he arrested?”

I don't want him arrested, Nana. I want him tortured. But…not yet!

The light turns green. I sigh. “There's nothing linking him to either crime, Nana. But that doesn't mean he's
not
the one who's behind them. And after his threat to me this morning, I don't know what he's liable to do next.”

“I fear no evil…”

I massage my left temple, stopping at a traffic light.
This shit is ridiculous!
I've been on the phone talking to her for the last ten minutes pleading with her to go to Arizona to stay with her niece, Fanny, until this shit with Jasper is over. I've even offered to fly her out to California to stay at the condo with Greta and Jaylen. But Nana is being her usual stubbornly determined self and refuses to budge.

And it's really starting to piss me off.

“I'm not letting the devil or none of his followers run me out of my home.” I check the rearview mirror to make sure Mel's truck is still behind me. It is.

Lamar's SUV is in front.

I am boxed in the middle. Sandwiched between two men willing to do whatever they need to in order to protect me. After that phone call from Jasper this morning, my nerves were rattled. They still are. However, I wanted to drive
myself
to the salon, not be chauffeured today.

Reluctantly, they gave in.

The light turns green.

“Nana, I know how much stress you've been under lately. A
getaway—”

“I won't hear of it,” she snaps, sounding annoyed. “I said
no
. And that's what I mean. Now hush up all this foolishness. I'm not going
any
where; do you understand me, Chile? Not until the authorities bring home my grandbaby.”

She's not coming home, Nana.

I tighten my grip around the steering wheel. “Nana, don't.”

“Don't
what,
Pasha?
Remind
you that you still have a cousin—who you somehow seem to want to forget about, still missing out there?”

Without getting caught up in my own feelings about Felecia, I manage to mumble, “I know
she's
missing. But she's not my concern, Nana.
You
are.”

She huffs. “Well, she
should
be your concern, Pasha. She's mine. And so are you. What in the world has gotten into you? This indifference you have toward Felecia all of a sudden has got to stop, you hear me? She needs your prayers right now. Not your hostility.”

Lamar pulls up in front of the salon. I turn into the side parking lot with Mel behind me. My jaw tightens. I pull into my parking space, practically slamming the car into
PARK
. And before I can filter my true feelings, before I clear my thoughts, I snap, “I beg your pardon, Nana, but my
indifference
toward Felecia stems from her not only talking about me behind my back and breaking my confidence, but from sleeping with Jasper, okay?”

She huffs. “Pasha! Have you no shame? Lord, God! You'd believe that ole heathen husband of yours over your own flesh and blood? Felecia would
never
do anything like that to you.”

I blink, disbelief and hurt and disgust flooding my eyes. “Nana, please. All you've ever done is take up for Felecia. Even when she stole your checks out of your checkbook and forged your name
for all that money, you swore up and down she'd never do anything like that. And when the truth came out, you
still
made excuses for her. I'm sick of it. Believe it or not, she
did
sleep with Jasper. Not once, not twice, but multiple times. Why? Because she was jealous and hateful and wanted the life I had. And I know all this because she admitted it. So, don't talk to me about indifference, Nana.”

Nana huffs. “You hush your fresh-ass mouth, Pasha! Spewing the devil's tongue at me. I raised you better than this.” She sighs, then gets silent. I roll my eyes, knowing what's coming next. Prayer. “In the name of Jesus,” she finally says. “Right now, Pasha, whether Felecia did or didn't sleep with Jasper doesn't matter. What's important is,
you
forgiving her as I continue to
forgive
you.”