Ruthless (44 page)

She sucks her teeth, waving me on playfully. “Girl, he's aiight. I think I'll keep him around for a while.” She smiles, glowing. “We're tyin' the knot in the fall. October, if I don't have to body him.”

I cough almost choking. “Ohmygod. I can't. Katrina, you're a mess.”

She laughs. “Hon, I'm dead-serious. I love my Alex. And I know he loves me. But trust. That fine muthafuh…man, is
still
a man. But I've already warned him. If he ever crosses me, I'ma have him toe tagged.”

I blink. She tilts her head. And there's something in her eyes that lets me know she means every word she's said. She chuckles. “You know my girl called me poppin' mad shit…ooh, excuse me, I'm still tryna work on my gutter mouth.” I laugh. Tell her to be who she is. “Hon, I'm from the streets of Brooklyn. You don't really wanna see the real me. But anyway, my girl, Chanel, was
haawt
when you tossed her up outta ya salon in Jersey.” She leans in,
lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I
know
her. And Trust. If she was googly-eyein' my man, I woulda cracked her face up wit' a flat iron, then tossed her out, too. I keep tellin' her gold-diggin' ass to stop trickin' for the next come up.” I smile, shaking my head. I keep my comments to myself. We chitchat a few minutes more before she moves on to join the others.

Three hours later, the festivities begin winding down. Guests are saying their goodbyes. Booty has gotten her claws into her prey, tooting her lips up as she saunters out the door with him and his entourage. Katrina and her fiancé are long gone. Paris, Persia, and Porsha tell me how proud they are of me, giving me hugs before making their way to their suite at the L ‘Ermitage. Porsha stops and reminds me to save the date for her upcoming wedding to her fiancé, Emerson, in the fall. I tell her I wouldn't miss it for the world. She blows me a kiss, tells me she loves me, then is out the door, climbing into the limo with her sisters.

Mona, Greta, Zeus and three of my new stylists, along with Mel, are the only ones still here when the one person I am shocked to see strolls through the doors with his swag on ten, carrying two magnums of Dom White Gold.

“Ohmygod, Stax! What are you doing here?”

“C'mon, Pash,” he says, giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Why you think? You know I was gonna be here. Even if you didn't hit me wit' an invite. I know I'm mad late.” I smile. Tell him it doesn't matter that he's late. He's here and that's what truly means the most. Mona eyes me, then Stax.

He walks over and gives her a hug. Greets everyone else, setting the bottles of bubbly on the juice bar. He's seemingly unfazed by the fact that Zeus and the three stylists are eyeing him, practically drooling; seconds away from trying to pounce on him.

I grab another glass of sparkling cider while the rest of them drink and chatter. Finally, an hour after everyone is finally gone, Stax and I are in my office. I haven't seen him in three months. And prior to that, I'd only seen him a few times after Jasper's funeral. This is really the first time we've been alone.

“You lookin' real good, Pash. You glowin' all over, ma.”

I smile. “Thank you. You're not looking so bad yourself.”
No, you're looking fine as ever. Sexy as fuck!

“I've missed you, Pash.”

“Awwww. You didn't have to fly way out here to tell me this,” I tease. “You could have simply called, or sent a text.”

“Nah, I wanted…
needed
, to see you.”

I swallow, feeling my skin heat.

“I've had you heavy on the brain the last few weeks, Pash.” He pauses, takes a deep breath, then reaches for me. “This thing between us, Pash. I don't know what it is. I don't know what it means. All I know is…”

I stop him before he says more than he should. “It
doesn't
mean anything, Stax. It
didn't
mean anything.” I turn away from him. Not because I am done with our conversation, or with him. No. I am afraid of what I'll say or do if he keeps talking, if he keeps staring into my eyes, trying to dig his way any deeper than he already is into my soul.

He reaches for my hand, pulling me to him. I immediately feel a pulsing in my pussy. I try to pull away. He refuses to let me.

“You know you don't mean that. Tell me you don't feel it every time we touch. Tell me you don't see it when I look at you. I see it when I look at you, Pash. I saw it the night I made love to you. The night you gave me all of you.”

I turn my gaze from his.
God, no…please.
How dare he fly all the
way out here, barging his way into my life on one of the most important days of my life, thinking there's some unspoken bond between us? The gall of him to think, assume, I'd seen it, felt it, too! Damn him!

Truth is, he's right. I saw it in his eyes the first, second, and third time, he fucked into my pussy. I felt it the night in my hotel suite. Felt the electricity, felt the heat. I inhale. In an instant, waves of memories wash over me, moistening the lips of my pussy.

“Maybe I shouldna flown way out here. I coulda waited for you to get back to Jersey to holla at you. But, nah, I hopped up on a whim and snatched up a last-minute ticket. I know I should let this shit go, Pash. Know I should just keep it movin'. But I can't, man. It's somethin'. And it's fuckin' wit' me, Pash. I need to know why I can't shake you, baby.”

I feel like I am melting inside as he eyes me. His arms tighten around me. His mouth is on mine, his tongue slipping in. And I let myself get swept up in the heat until he finally breaks away.

“This shit is mad crazy, Pash. I already know tryna fuck wit' you is a dangerous game. But I'm ready to play it.”

“Stax, I used you,” I blurt out, reminding him of what I told him months ago. “I wanted to hurt Jasper, the way he'd hurt me. I told you this.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, I know what you tol' me. But, nah. I wanted to be used, Pash. I
wanted
you. I
still
want you. I've tried to put distance between us. Shit's fucked up, ma. I know what it is wit' you. I know how you get down. Still…” He shakes his head, again. “You gotta muhfucka open. And I'm man enough to admit that shit.”

I blink.

He can't be serious? Not now.
What was there really between us?
Nothing, except for a few good—uh, correction…
great
—dick-sucking moments; some delicious tongue work; and ten, thick, glorious inches of deep-dick fucking. Other than that the only common link between Stax and me is Jasper. And he's dead.

“So, what's the real problem, Pash? Talk to me.”

“The problem is
me
, Stax.” He looks surprised, but I continue. “I've loved everyone else except for me. I've loved niggas more than me. I've loved all the trappings of the fast life more than me. I've loved dick more than me. And I almost lost my life, risked my reputation, everything, with my impulsiveness. I was selfish, Stax. And while Jasper was locked up, I let loneliness morph itself into recklessness. If I am nothing else, I have to be true to myself. I told you once how I loved dick, Stax. Lots and lots of it. That hasn't changed. I'm in love with a big hard dick, Stax. I love sucking big dick—deep throating it, more than being fucked by it.”

“C'mon, Pash, don't.”

I hold up my hand to silence him. “Please, Stax. Let me finish. You are a good man. God, where were you fifteen years ago?” I shudder at the thought. “You're Jasper's cousin, for God's sake, Stax. I can't go there.
We
can't go there.”

He smirks. “We already did, Pash. The match was struck the night I walked in ya office and scooped you up in my arms. I know it's all fucked up, yo. But that shit don't matter now.”

“For
who
, Stax? You? Me?”

He looks at me, then narrows his eyes as if he's studying me; as if he's seeing me for the very first time. I quickly move from his view, darting over to my desk, putting a safe space between us. Subconconsciously, I knew the moment would come: a day, a night, a time of reckoning.

I feel the walls closing in on me as he keeps his gaze trained on
me. He stalks over to me. Plants his palms flat on the desk, leaning over, inches away from my face.

I cast my eyes downward, then around the room. Anywhere except back at him. In fear, they'll reveal more than I am willing to share. Not now. Not yet.

“Don't run from me, Pash.” The tenderness in his voice burns into my pores. The blaze is starting from the inside out. “Don't run from this. From us, yo. You want big dick? Is that it? I got more than enough dick to keep your jaws busy, Pash. So don't let that be ya excuse.”

I swallow.

He touches the side of my face with a hand. “I ain't Jasper. This dick is yours, Pash. I'm yours.
All
yours. But I ain't gonna sweat you. You do what you gotta do to get right wit' you. And I'ma be waitin' for you. So all that dick suckin' you love doin' so much, there's a big, ten-inch dick wit' ya name on it. Only when you ready for it.”

I feel the rug being snatched up from beneath my heels. I brace myself against the desk, steadying my nerves. Scrambling in my head to find a way to navigate out of this net he is tossing over me. “I finally know who the Calm One was,” I say, shifting the direction of the conversation. I tell him how I found out.

“Oh word?”

I eye him. Wonder why when I tell him it was Avery he doesn't blink. Doesn't seem the least bit surprised. “So what do you plan on doin' wit' that info?” he calmly asks. I tell him nothing. Admit that I'm torn because I feel Mona deserves to know. But I don't want her to get hurt. She's had enough losses. He nods knowingly. I ask him if he knew Avery was there.

“Yeah.”

I swallow.

“Pash,
I'm
the one who asked Avery to be there. Jasp asked him to be down wit' that shit and he tol' him he wasn't beat. The only reason why Avery was there was on the strength of me.”

The room starts to slowly spin. I feel myself starting to hyperventilate. I can feel the blood draining from my face. “W-why?”

“It was the only way I could keep you safe. Jasper wanted them niggas to go all in on you. I wasn't diggin' that shit. But you were his wife, so I had to let him do him. I tol' you, I wanted no part of that shit. But I had to have eyes ‘n' ears on shit. I'm the one who tol' Avery you were carryin' Jasper's seed ‘n' to make sure none'a them niggas hurt you. When Jasp finally came down into the basement, he wanted you bodied, Pash—you and his seed. Avery is the one who went down there ‘n' stopped him from stompin' you out. You were already unconscious.”

I cover my mouth with a hand.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod…

Suddenly, I wish I had been the one to put those bullets in that dirty motherfucker's head. Now I have to know, need to know, if Jasper was already dead when he was picked up from the park.

Stax slowly shakes his head. His eyes stay locked on mine. There's a fire burning behind his pupils. “Nah.” I ask if he had him killed. He slowly shakes his head again. “Nah. I personally handled that shit. I dumped that heat into his skull, then tossed his body in the Hudson. That was my work, Pash. I finished him off.”

There's no remorse, no guilt, in his voice when he says this.

My eyes widen. He walks around my desk. “I tol' you, Pash. I'ma never let anyone ever hurt you again.”

Without a thought, my hand rests on my stomach. “But, why?”

“C'mon, Pash.” He lowers his voice. The warmth in his eyes is dizzying. I look away. “Why you think?”

After several strained moments, I meet his eyes. I nervously bite the inside of my bottom lip before finally asking, “Do you love me, Stax?”

His gaze drops to my hand and I quickly become aware of what I have been doing this whole time. Gently rubbing my slightly swollen belly. He narrows his eyes. I can see the wheels in his head spinning as he counts back to the night in my suite. Despite the loose-fitting dress I am wearing, I am barely showing. Still, he's noticed. I see the way his expression turns into a question.

“Pash, keep shit real wit' me. Is that my seed?”

I let out a nervous chuckle. Shift my eyes around the room. I am afraid to trust this feeling of comfort and safety, of promise and hope. I'm afraid to become unguarded enough to allow vulnerability to creep in. Afraid to be a part of who he is while being apart from him. Afraid to trust myself enough to be able to love him when I am at a point of finally learning how to love myself; of how to balance forgiveness and letting go.

No. Stax and I can't be together. There is whole lot more to him I am afraid to know. That I don't think I ever want to know. I am not ready for his truths. How can I be? I am barely ready for my own. Still I am accepting them. They are who I am. They are things I have become.

I am a woman. A mother. A widower. A murderer.

I am the infamous Deep Throat Diva.

I have become a ruthless bitch.

And I am falling in love with a man I cannot allow myself to have.

I open and close my eyes. Hoping, wishing, like hell I can blink away these feelings, flash away his body from my mind, his taste from my lips, his touch on my skin. I wish like fucking hell I could
blink away the aching need to want to fuck him right here, right now—for the last time.

But I can't.

Stax pulls out a peppermint candy, unwraps it and slides it into his mouth. He offers me one. I shake my head. Tell him no. He reaches for my hand. Holds it with strength and gentleness.

“I need to know, Pash.” He asks again, “Is it my seed?” I still do not answer him.

“Do you love me, Stax?”