Ruthless and Rotten (14 page)

The days that followed that night somehow brought about a drastic change in Storm's personality. He'd been woken up at four in the morning by Kenya returning home from work. He felt like warm, melted shit on a stick. Storm had no idea how he'd gotten downstairs, let alone on the floor. As he passed the huge oval-shaped mirror in the hallway, Storm caught a quick glance of himself and froze with disappointment at the sight. He saw a complete stranger staring back at him. It was then and there that he promised Kenya that he was gonna get his shit back right and 100 percent correct.

When he hugged Kenya his dick rose up, standing at attention, causing her to smile with excitement and anticipation of the possibility of what she'd been missing. The two of them made their way up the stairs and into their bedroom. Kenya turned the shower on hot as she helped Storm step inside. Having a new attitude, he spent what seemed like hours scrubbing months of built-up filth off his body. The combination of the soap and the hot water caused a mysterious deep scratch on the side of his neck to sting.

Strangely, when he closed his eyes, Storm kept seeing flashbacks of having sex with Kenya on the kitchen floor in front of the open refrigerator door. He knew that it must've been a dream, so he dismissed it out of his mind. No sooner than he was finished drying off, he pounced on top of Kenya, making love to her for the first time in months. She was in seventh heaven as he freaked her from head to toe. Kenya, unlike Storm who just had some pussy earlier, hadn't had sex in what seemed like twelve months of Sundays and was really feeling that shit. They went in 'til almost daybreak while London, having had a brief taste of Storm earlier, enviously listened to their loud moans from the other room.

 

 

For weeks and weeks Storm stuck to his word and stopped drinking altogether. The only fluid that was now constantly up to his lips were ice-cold water and the juices that flowed out of Kenya's forever wet twat. O.T. had helped him hook the basement up with weights and other gym equipment that he needed to get back right to his usual self. Dedicated, he spent every free moment and waking minute on getting his body tight. As the days past, he was slowly gaining back the pounds and muscle mass that he'd lost while being held captive, then bedridden. He was transforming into looking like the old Storm who Kenya first fell in love with.

Even, to Kenya's surprise, London stopped complaining so much and being judgmental. She was being much more tolerant and civil to Storm as well. The two of them weren't arguing as much and London was even sharing responsibilities, helping Kenya out with the housework more often. Yet poor, naive Kenya had no idea that the true reason London was lending a helpful hand was so that she could smell Storm's T-shirts and dirty underwear every chance she got. The high point of London's day would come when she'd carry the laundry basket in the basement to wash and get an up-close and personal show of Storm's perfect body pumping iron.

“Girl, thanks for looking out for me with some of this cleaning.” Kenya hugged her twin, happy that things were settling down. “You know Gran blessed you with all the secrets in keeping a neat house, anyhow.”

“Oh, it's nothing,” London winked at her twin, being sarcastic. “What's yours is mine, so I wouldn't leave you hanging. Like I said, it's nothing.”

“Yes, it is. I want you to know that you're really appreciated and that I love you, London!”

“We sisters, girl!” London gave Kenya a halfhearted smile and a hug, smelling Storm's scent on her twin's shirt. “You should know by now that I've got your back.”

The two finished getting the condo together because they were having a special dinner later that evening. It would be Kenya, Storm, Paris, O.T., and London. Kenya trusted in the changes that were taking place in London when it came to O.T. It seemed just like a snap of the finger, London was no longer attracted to O.T. It would be days when O.T. stopped by to hang out with Storm that London wouldn't even come out of her room to even say hello. She stayed asleep most days, acting as if she didn't have a care in the world. She'd stopped talking about returning to college or Detroit altogether.

Whatever jumped off to keep the two of them from messing around again behind Paris's back, Kenya was overjoyed and didn't question it. She never did get around to having a long conversation with London about what really went down the day that Storm saw her and O.T. in the hallway, so Kenya let her imagination work for itself, then put it completely out of her mind. Putting two and two together was easy. But nevertheless, things were back on track all around, with the small exception of the ongoing Paris, O.T., Chocolate Bunny saga, which was a hot topic that raged on nightly at the club.

The table was set and everything was picture-perfect for the evening. Kenya, with London's help, cooked enough food to feed a small-sized army. The huge celebration feast consisted of everything from hot country fried chicken, pot roast smothered in homemade brown gravy and catfish, to fresh collard greens, candied yams, and black-eyed peas. The girls had outdone themselves just as their grandmother had taught them.

Paris and O.T. arrived to the condo on time. They planned on having an early supper because Kenya was due down at the club by eight that evening and couldn't be late. She tried to get someone to fill in for her, but had no success. She was the only voice of reason at the club and things had a habit of going crazy when she wasn't there. O.T. wasted no time disappearing into the basement where Storm was just finishing up his workout, leaving all three females alone in the kitchen area.

“Hey, Paris,” London spoke as she inspected her sister's best friend's shape. Paris had packed on at least fifteen pounds or more since London had last seen her. “What have you been up to lately? Where have you been hiding?”

“Not much.” Paris shrugged her shoulders. “I've just been taking it easy, trying to get my mind right.”

“Oh, okay, it's just that I haven't saw you around here very much.” London grilled her sister's best friend, still stunned by Paris's big physical change. “Is all well with you?”

Kenya saw the direction that her slick-mouthed twin was headed and jumped in to rescue Paris from all the questions. “Do me a favor, London.” Kenya wiped her hands on the plaid-colored dish towel. “Can you go and call the fellas up while me and Paris start bringing the food to the table?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” London happily left to go in the basement. If she was lucky, maybe Storm still had his shirt off. The aroma of the various foods was making her dizzy anyway, as well as the intense heat from the oven.

When London was clearly out of ear range, Kenya apologized for her twin sister being so damn nosy. “Girl, she didn't mean to be all up in your shit like that. She just was concerned, that's all. She don't know any better.”

Paris grabbed one of the china platters with the chicken on it and headed toward the brightly-lit dining room. “Don't worry. I don't mind. I guess I do look like a mess with all this extra weight that I'm hauling.”

“Stop tripping, you tight, girl.” Kenya followed behind her friend with a big bowl of greens in her hands.

“You don't have to lie. I know that this fat shit ain't cute.” Paris lowered her head in shame, on the verge of tears. “But I can't help it. That fool got me so messed up in the head I can't think straight half the time!”

“Stop being so down on yourself.”

“I can't help it, Kenya! Do you know that O.T. hasn't touched me in over two and a half weeks now?” Kenya consoled her friend as she sobbed. “He barely even comes to the crib until daybreak. He claims that he's out hustlin', but I know that nigga is lying. He cheating with some ho!”

Before Kenya got a chance to hear the entire story, London returned with both guys trailing behind.

“Damn, that shit smells good!” Storm rubbed his flat-abs as he took a seat at the head of the long marble table. “I'm about to throw the hell down!”

O.T. followed his brother's lead and sat at the other end. After all the food was laid out and the girls sat down, Storm blessed the gathering before the first fork was placed to anyone's lips. Two or three seconds after that the shit was on! The guys acted like they'd never had soul food before as they devoured everything that they piled on their plates, getting seconds and even thirds of some dishes. The only dinner conversation that was taking place consisted of girl talk and the sounds of grunting.

It was close to seven and the group was just about done with eating. Kenya was bringing an apple pie to the table for dessert when O.T.'s cell phone started to ring, causing Paris to suddenly flip out.

“Damn! Can we have one day in peace when that ho of yours ain't blowing up your fucking phone?”

“Don't start with me, Paris. I ain't in the mood for that dumb shit now!” Fed up with her constant accusations, O.T. walked away from the table shaking his head. “I've got something to go handle.”

“Yeah, right!” Paris reached back, trying to hit him as he walked passed. “You ain't shit but a cheating liar. We all know! The people at the club know! The people in the street know! Hell, even the old Chinese lady at the dry cleaner's knows you a cheating piece of garbage!”

Kenya leaned over and wrapped her arms around Storm's neck, who was still seated at the table. “Baby, oh, my God, can you say something, please?”

“I love you like a motherfucker, Kenya, but I don't get in the middle of no couple's bullshit.” Storm cut himself a piece of pie as he remained silent, watching his baby brother and Paris go at it. “And trust me, you don't need to either!”

London was especially enjoying the long evening observing both couples at each other's throats. At first she felt like a third wheel and out of place; now she was happy not to be either of the girls.

O.T. took Paris's car keys off the couch and trotted out to her car, leaving her stranded without a ride to get home.

“Damn, I hate him! I swear I do!” she huffed.

“Don't worry, girl. I'll drop you off on my way to Alley Cats.” Kenya patted her friend on the back as she snarled at Storm, who was still nonchalantly stuffing his face with pie. “Just let me grab my purse and we'll be out.”

Paris and Kenya left London and Storm home alone. On the ride to drop her off at her and O.T.'s apartment, Kenya was having a hard time trying to comfort an almost panic-stricken Paris. The loud, piercing cries from her were coming close to causing Kenya to swerve off the highway. She already needed a few aspirin for the headache she was suffering after her disagreement with Storm, but this was much worse.

“Why don't you go inside and try to get some rest? It's been a long day.” Kenya tried her best to convince Paris to calm the hell down, go inside, lie down, and relax.

“You right, girl. I'm just gonna go in there and chill 'til his ass comes home—then trust, it's back on!”

Kenya blew the horn once as she drove off toward Alley Cats.