Sex in the Hood Saga (42 page)

The recessed lights over the vanity glowed down on his head, casting eerie dark shadows around his eyes while his nose became extra bright.

“You got me sadly and dangerously confused wit' anotha bitch,” The Queen said. “So unless you gon' change into a dress up in this
ladies
bathroom, punk, you betta step the fuck on.”

He said with a low, sinister tone, “Vee, your acting skills are superb. All that practice in the school plays really paid off. You could win an Oscar for best actress. Let's call your movie,
Ho in the Hood
or
New Black Titty.”
He laughed by himself.

The Queen rolled her eyes.

“Or you could put your Hollywood skills to work for me and Red. Travel the world with us. You saw the way he looked at you. The globe is yours on a silver platter.”

The Queen squeezed her still throbbing pussy to calm her emotions. Especially the rage at his bold disrespect of her and Knight. “Sorry,” she said, coolly washing her hands and meeting his stare in the mirror. “You're making me an offer I'm afraid I'll have to refuse.”

Brian's eyes sparkled. “You can make the world be your playground. Vee, think of it, the whole world at your fingertips with—”

The Queen spun on her sharp heel to stare into his ridiculous eyes. She rapped with a slight neck jerk. “For the last time, you got me confused wit' anotha chick. And I don't be makin' bathroom deals wit' a dude who's wasting my time. Now, please, get your shit out my face.” The Queen raised her chin and strutted past him.

His chubby hand gripped her elbow, just below her Cleopatra bracelet on her upper arm.

He pulled her close, breathing sour alcohol breath on her. “Vee, you promised we'd be together forever. You're mine. And I know you're givin' it up to that ghetto thug.”

She spat in his eye. Saliva dripped down his pudgy cheek. He leaned close to kiss her.

Right now she could scream, and Pong would come in here and squash this punk muthafucka like a bug. She could pull the gun out of her waistband and blow him away, but that would draw too much attention. “You got one last chance to get ya hands the fuck off me,” The Queen said coolly. “My dick is so hard,” Brian said, yanking out his dark-pink dick. “Sweet little Victoria is such a tough girl.”

“Put that shit away. If Knight comes in here, he'll cut it off.” Brian laughed with a sinister glow in his eyes. “Oh, I'm real scared of that illiterate gorilla. I bet he shoves his big black cock up the sweet pussy you refused to give me.”

The Queen smiled, “And I
loooooove
it.” She smirked.

Brian's cheeks turned red as if her words had slapped him. “Think of it, Vee. You and me together again. Promise you'll come back to me. We can travel the world with Moreno till I'm twenty-five. Then I get my trust fund and we can get married. Set for life with millions. You and me, Vee.”

The Queen pressed her hands to his shoulders. “You sick. Firs', you don't know who the fuck you fuckin' wit'; secon', you obviously didn't see my fiance; an' third, why the fuck would I want to leave my African god to get wit' yo' fat ass?”

His hand grabbed her left tit. He smashed his slimy mouth into hers.

She pushed his shoulders back.

He fell backward, but lurched back at her.

As she had been trained by Lee Lee and the soldiers, she extended a lightning quick and brutally hard heel of the hand right into his nose. At the same time, her knee slammed his groin.

He doubled over, groaning.

The Queen stepped back. Her whole body tingled with excitement. She felt super human strength as rage, disappointment and sadness pumped through her red hot veins. She blasted her pointed heel into the side of his fleshy gut.

He let out a grotesque groan and stood, glaring at her with glassy eyes. His left hand cupped his nose. Blood dripped down his chin. “Vee, you'll come to your senses,” he said with a calm mouth but eyes glowing like a rabid dog.

“So will you,” she said, balling her fist and she whacked his left jaw with a punch, followed by an uppercut to his chin and a final punch to the center of his chest with her right hand.

Blood dripped from his vile mouth that had spewed racist insults at her. He slumped on the floor like the pile of trash that he was.

“Stupid racist punk,” The Queen whispered. “You just fucked with the wrong nigga bitch. Hope you ain't mixed up no more about who I am. I'm The Queen, bitch. The one and only.”

The sweet taste of revenge delighted her mouth as if she'd sucked on a Jolly Rancher. She strutted to the sink, ran cold water over her throbbing knuckles, smoothed down her hair, and strode out of the bathroom humming her song, “A Bad Bitch.”

Later that evening, Knight stood at the head of the sleek black conference table, looking at each of the fifteen board members in the eye.

“I'm always glad to see our top brass gathered in one room,” Knight said, looking each one in the eyes.

“On the agenda tonight, we're focusing on The Games and the rapid growth of Babylon over the past year,” Knight said.

The Board members knew Babylon was extremely vulnerable to inside and outside forces, because rapid expansion always had the potential to cause serious growing pains. Most of these cats loathed the idea of playing anything but war with Moreno. So the positive outcome of today's meeting was not on the agenda with the board.

And no one, not even The Queen, now seated beside Knight, knew about the mega deal to sell Babylon in one month's time. Nor did anyone even know about their meeting with Moreno today.

Knight wore his best mask of mystery and power while his insides bubbled with love and pride as he gazed at The Queen. Paul had been monitoring every second of her encounter in the bathroom and he had made sure to inform Knght of it. Knight was very happy with how The Queen had handled herself. What he wasn't happy about, was the sleazy shit that punk-ass B-boy tried to pull. Right now, arrangements were being made to secretly alert his parents of their beloved son's underworld lifestyle, so that he could stop counting on his trust fund at age twenty-five. And Brian was also being informed in the most convincing way that any more attempts to contact The Queen or even speak her name to anyone would result in swift and permanent consequences for him.

The theme song for Babylon played on the hidden Bose speakers throughout the conference room. Several people rocked in their seats as they tapped expensive Mont Blanc pens to the agendas and jotted down notes in their monogrammed leather organizers. Some of these folks knew and loved Jamal; others didn't. With him as the proud new owner of Babylon, they would all be well taken care of, and still earn their fortunes in their respective cities.

But with all those millions on the line, Knight had no time for mutiny in the ranks. So secrecy was the name of his game for the next four weeks. Then he'd do the deals, get married, and disappear before the announcement was made that Babylon was under new management.

Plus, Mama's tearful visit just minutes ago to the Penthouse had him rattled. Li'l Tut was alive, HIV positive crazed, and on the run. Now the Barriors were on a mission to finish what Knight had started on the boat.

The Queen had heard it all as Mama had sobbed into Knight's shoulder. Knight had immediately called Paul to put all of Babylon on Red Alert, the highest security level. It also meant that The Queen would be packing at all times. In fact, after this meeting, Knight would take her to the firing range downstairs, to make sure her shot could blow a muthafucka's block off, if necessary; because if Duke somehow got to her, and took what he wanted, his poisonous dick was as good as a gun to her head.

Suddenly Knight's chest squeezed. He froze. Didn't even want to inhale. Because any movement, he feared, might make those tiny needles stab harder into his heart.

The Queen's eyes locked on him. Her lips were tense and tight; her eyes flashing fear. In his mind, he heard her voice say,
I can feel your pain.

He could see the worry and concern in her eyes. Knight inhaled deeply.
My body is a precision-tuned, superhuman machine. I am well. It's just stress. It'll all be over in twenty-nine days. I can make it to paradise.

He inhaled again, very slowly. And the pain dissolved to a dull ache. But this health crisis, he feared, was eroding the cool, calm confidence that was his trademark as the CEO of Babylon.

Now, in the board meeting, he had to walk a tight rope to keep the members happy without revealing the secret deal. Or that Li'l Tut was back with a vengeance, armed and dangerous. Telling that would give the schemers in the room ammunition to make a power play. They also didn't need to know that one of his fed sources had tipped him off to a possible raid during The Games.

Knight had to finesse this meeting so that no wild cards got tossed into the mix.

“Excuse me.” Reba came through the door with a silver tray holding glass bottles of water and crystal tumblers. “How's everybody doin'?” She placed a bottle and glass before Knight's seat. She wedged between him and The Queen, brushing her ass against Knight's leg.

He immediately stepped back.

“Hey, boss lady,” Reba said, smiling down and sticking her pushed up titties inches from The Queen's face as she served the water. “That pantsuit is sharp.”

The Queen cast her eyes up at what she knew was a ho, scheming to steal her man.

Knight focused on his typed agenda.

All eyes in the room were on Reba's highly glossed lips, her titties, and her ass.

“Reba,” Knight snapped. “We're about to get started. You can greet everybody at the party down in the garage, after our meeting.”

Reba continued serving around the table.

Knight got on with the task of feeling out everybody's state of mind. Some of the members looked calm and collected but others seems anxious and fidgety. Intuition told Knight to be careful with the nervous ones because it could mean they were up to something; or working with Li'l Tut.

As Reba left the room, Knight ignored the tightness in his chest. He had to fake it till he made it.

“I'm grateful that all of you were able to make it today,” Knight said, “because our plan for the next month is extremely ambitious. But I believe it's attainable, given the rapid growth of the past year.”

He held up the schedule; papers rattled throughout the room as everyone else followed suit. “These are the major deals and events on the horizon,” Knight said. “Skip down to the bottom. If you haven't heard, you'll see that The Queen and I are getting married the day after The Games, on October first. The Games will be our bachelor/bachelorette party.”

Leroy Lewis' angry tone cut through the chorus of congratulations. “Your planning is fucked-up.” His diamond pinkie ring sparkled as he twisted the edge of his pencil-thin mustache. “A huge distraction. Babylon can't afford to derail our focus on the frivolity of a wedding.”

Several people let out annoyed groans.

“I agree,” Shar Miller said, shaking her spiky black hair. “Makes us vulnerable to outside forces. The feds, the competition, and Moreno's wicked tricks. Too many wild cards out there could deal us a fatal blow. And everybody knows if Duke is still alive, he could come back with a vengeance.”

Marcus Reed shot up to his feet and threw his silver pen down on the table. “Why y'all gotta hate on a brotha wit' good news? Damn! Can't stand a hater!” He slapped the back of Leroy's chair. “If you got a legit beef wit' the brotha, speak on it. But if you just gripin' to flex, then shut the fuck up.”

Most people around the table applauded.

“What Knight done wit' Babylon over the past year ain't nothin' but a miracle.” Marcus strode toward The Queen and stood behind her chair. “An' this young, talented lady done made millions for all o' y'all in the women's market. So e'rybody, let the brilliant brotha speak.”

Knight nodded. “I couldn't have said it better myself. That was exquisite, my brotha.”

Several people laughed.

But Leroy and Shar were like two smoke stacks. Fuming toxic vapors. Knight didn't even look at them. “Between the wedding and The Games, we have the Moreno meeting tomorrow. And the last yacht party of the season, to recruit clients and associates, will be next week at The Playhouse.”

Leroy raised his hand and spoke at the same time, “I heard a rumor around here today that Duke is back. Is that true?”

Knight's chest squeezed. He swallowed a cough. Shooting pains radiated like poison darts from his heart, up his neck, down his arm.

His face remained as stiff as a mask, but he could hear The Queen's panicky thoughts.

Knight took three long strides to the door. He felt like he was holding his breath; just had to swim faster up to the surface, so he could gulp down air. Opened the door. Stepped out. Closed the door. Inhaled.

The pain eased.

The four Barriors and B'Amazons who had been guarding the meeting watched attentively but gave him space.

Then a gush of alarmed voices shot out from the room as the door opened again.

Out came The Queen, eyes wide and rolling with questions. In them, he saw that she felt his pain and fear as intensely as he did. “Knight, baby,” she cried, stroking his back as he coughed to hide that he was gasping for breath. She held up her cell phone. “I'm calling an ambu—”

“No, I'm fine. Handle the meeting,” he wheezed, holding his chest. “Say I got stomach flu. I'll be upstairs.”

A sound he'd never heard shot out from between her lips. It was like a cry of pain, a shriek of horror, but muted so only he could hear it.

It made his heart ache more.