Sweeter Than Honey (20 page)

“O
kay, Lace, you’ve got to compose yourself, and accept the fact that Sunny is dead.” Hearing myself speak those words, I felt like my heart had stopped beating. “But how? Why? What went wrong? How could I have failed Sunny in less than seventy-two hours?”

I asked myself question upon question until I was sick to my stomach. Parking my car at Valentino’s mansion, I bit my bottom lip to keep from crying. Obviously I wasn’t doing a decent job of controlling my feelings for Sunny. Emotions and prostitution didn’t mix, so I rechanneled my energy.

I was certain my hidden recorder was loaded with invaluable information; this wasn’t the best time for me to sneak the disc out of the
First Lady
book. First I’d have to find a way to get Valentino out of his study for a few minutes. “I’ve got it.” When I got back, after the girls left Valentino’s and headed to IP, I’d short-circuit the lighting and temperature controls on Valentino’s precious shark tank. That’d send him frantically running to the basement.

Desperately I wanted to go inside and talk to Valentino before picking up the girls, but too many strange things had already happened. Plus, I was so angry with Benito’s confession that I’d shoot Valentino in his face if he told me he’d killed Sunny.

Benito’s voice echoed in my ear. “Lace, why you gotta be so hard all the time?”

All B’s monologues about black this and white that, he should’ve understood black women were tired of being asexual. Having to go to work every night while B laid his lazy ass up in my bed betraying me after all I’d done for him. Fuck, that ungrateful son of a bitch. No, I didn’t want to hear his sorry-ass excuse for being broke. Besides the obvious that he’d pissed off his money trying to impress others by buying friendships that ended when his last dollar was spent, the only way I could tell B was a man was that I was generous enough to have left his dick and balls attached to his body.

I smiled, thinking,
B must’ve prayed every minute of every hour that his nuts remained intact. I knew he was scared shitless that he’d make the wrong move, triggering a bullet up his ass.
I wondered how much time I’d have to serve if B died of a heart attack believing the gun was loaded.

Right now I had my own shit to deal with. Overcoming my life’s obstacles since being kicked out of the house at sixteen was like jumping one huge hurdle after another with no time for rest. The two security guards were sitting in the limousine parked next to me. At this point I couldn’t trust anybody, especially these guys.

Approaching the driver’s-side window, I said, “Follow me to IP so I can leave my car there.”

If any foolishness went down at IP tonight, I was out for good with a one-way ticket to Atlanta. Cruising along Martin Luther King Boulevard, I watched the guards in my rearview mirror. Were they talking about me? Worried if I’d shoot them like I’d done their boss? Or were they relieved that Reynolds was dead so they could fight over the head security position? Guys who were in gangs or worked for the Mafia always had one foot in prison and the other in the grave expecting to kill or be killed.

All over the world, men could shoot deer or ducks for recreation, so why shouldn’t women be allowed to shoot men who were dogs and call it a sport? Just the way I’d killed Reynolds, without hesitation I’d have no problem getting rid of Valentino.

Parking my car at IP, I rode up front with the guys. I had to make sure they weren’t plotting revenge against me, so I sat between them with my gun in my garter holster.

“Either of you tell Valentino what happened to Reynolds?” I asked, looking at one, then the other.

The driver answered, “He didn’t want to know, so our boss told us not to say nothing. We didn’t see nothing, and we don’t know a damn thing.”

The security guard to my right chimed in, “Not even where his body is buried.”

Lying motherfuckers.

“I see,” I said, noting that their lines were clearly rehearsed, which meant they’d had a lengthy discussion about Reynolds’s death with their boss and Valentino. “Who did your boss say is Reynolds’s replacement?” I casually inquired, using my peripheral vision to monitor their reactions.

Honestly I didn’t believe there was a boss or anyone else supporting these fools. Reynolds was probably a one-man operation who’d hired these guys off the street, then pretended to have an entire operation behind him so he could push his drugs in a safe environment.

Silence. The one to the right waited for the driver to answer and the driver looked straight ahead like I hadn’t spoken a word. Whoa. Not at all what I’d expected. I tried to wait them out, but neither of them uttered a syllable.

“Okay, let me ask that another way. Which one of you is in charge?”

The driver spoke. “We decided we’re fifty-fifty partners.”

Just as I’d thought. I continued listening to his watered-down plan.

“You see, we didn’t like the way Reynolds was cheating us out of our money anyway. Talkin’ ’bout how all the revenue from the drugs was his. Only problem is, we didn’t know Reynolds’s supplier and we don’t have one of our own.”

Bullshit. If Reynolds had undercut either one of these unscrupulous four-legged animals, they would’ve bypassed me and gone directly to Valentino. And in order for Valentino to avoid dealing directly with Reynolds’s boss, whoever that was, Valentino would’ve paid these guys to shut up and get out of his face. Ah yes, this situation was getting more complicated by the minute, but I loved when men challenged my intelligence.

“Valentino has connections. He already knows who’s replacing Reynolds and I’m sure his new person, like Reynolds, has a supplier.”

Fuck! That was it! Valentino wanted to be his own supplier. That’s why he wasn’t tripping over Reynolds’s death. I’d done Valentino a favor. That slick motherfucker. Now I saw exactly how well his plan was going.

“Well, I’m going to make you guys a proposition you won’t want to refuse. For a hundred thousand dollars each, you’re on my team. Your priority is to protect me at all times. If some shit goes down, shoot first and don’t ask any questions. I’ll do all the talking.”

The driver asked, “So, let me get this right. We’re
your
personal bodyguards from here on?”

“Exactly,” I said. “From now on you two report directly to me.”

“Does Valentino know about this?” the driver asked.

“You’re not listening. Valentino has hired his own men to replace you guys. That way he gets to keep all the money from drug sales. Y’all are demoted to chauffeurs,” I lied, trying to confuse them. “What I’m offering you is huge. Take it or leave it, because at my price I can hire anyone else. If you’re interested, I’ll give you the details later. I gotta go inside and get the girls,” I said, scooting out of the limo and strutting into the casino.

This pimpin’ game had become like the United Nations and I needed every escort and security person to form an alliance with me against Valentino. Where was I going to get two hundred thousand dollars in cash to give away tonight without using Valentino’s money? I had no idea.

Following the sparkling big red apple dangling from the ceiling, I entered the bar area, joining my escorts. Gathering them in a huddle, I said, “Ladies, I sincerely apologize for everything bad that happened to any of you yesterday and promise nothing like that will happen to you again.”

“So, is this the ‘You brought it on yourself’ speech that you’re giving us before you beat us, then shove your finger up our asses later?” girl six questioned.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. This trick had gotten bold. With the other ten girls awaiting my response, I remained calm, then said, “No, it’s not and no, I’m not going to beat you. However, I do have to check all of you. But there will be some good changes coming really soon.”

“I don’t believe you. Maybe we should all find ourselves a new madam like Sunny did,” girl six said, nodding toward the bar.

How in the fuck did I miss that? Covering my mouth, I felt like my heart stopped beating again. I felt the tears flooding my bottom lid, so I blinked repeatedly ’cause none of my girls had seen me weak. I knew Sunny was alive. I knew it. I knew it. I just knew it and I didn’t care about her having a new…what the hell? Squinting, I stared at the woman seated next to Sunny. That was the trick in blue from the bar the other night who knew my name. All of the madness was like being trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

Onyx’s pointing finger pressed against her lips as her chilling stare focused on Starlet’s eyes.

Did Valentino get to my bitches before me? I didn’t have time to entertain games with girl six or Onyx, who obviously wanted to provoke a response from me, so I gave all of them something to do in order to get these bitches out of my face before I leaned across the table and slapped the hell out of all of them with one long stroke.

“Onyx, escort the girls to the limo out back. Now.”

I was happy, pissed, relieved, jealous, and angry all within five minutes of seeing Sunny. Approaching the bar, I smoothed my skirt, checking for my gun just in case. “Excuse me, ladies,” I said, interrupting their conversation.

“Lace, hi. Good to see you. You look nice,” Sunny said, twisting her torso in my direction.

“Good to see me? You’re acting like you don’t know me. Like nothing has happened. Where were you last night and what’s going on here?”

Frowning at me, Sunny said, “Oh, where are my manners? Lace, Sapphire. Sapphire, Lace.”

Manners? Sunny introduced us like we were two of her girlfriends who simply hadn’t met yet.

Whispering in Sunny’s ear, I asked, “Are you on drugs? Is this woman holding you against your will?”

Pushing me away, Sunny smiled. “Don’t be jealous because I have a new boss.”

Firmly grasping Sunny’s biceps, I eased her off the bar stool, insisting, “Let me speak to you in private.”

This Sapphire woman opened her mouth when she should’ve kept it shut. “Lace, Sunny is with me now. And you have five seconds to get your hands off of her. Your job is done and so are you.”

What the hell?
That bitch didn’t know who she was fucking with. I wanted to slap her ass just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. As I stared at Sunny, ignoring Sapphire, my eyes softened. Gently I touched Sunny’s hand.

Drawing away, Sunny said, “I don’t want to quit. If you let me come back to work, I promise I won’t leave you again.”

Whoa, what was with the sudden change of heart? I did want Sunny back, but that was too damn easy.

“What! You can’t leave me like this!” Sapphire said, standing over Sunny.

Okay, I had two guys outside if I needed them. I could play along with Sapphire’s game for a minute. “Hey, look.” I wedged my body between the two of them. “You heard her. She doesn’t want you, she wants me so back off,” I said, pressing my thigh next to hers, making sure Sapphire felt my gun. To my surprise, she jammed her nipples in my eyes. Her pistol was wedged between her humongous titties with the handle touching my chin.

Sunny somberly asked, “So, can I work with you tonight, Lace?”

Too much was happening too fast. I didn’t know who to trust or believe. My Sunny would’ve called me Madam. Maybe she didn’t want to confuse me with this bitch.

Reluctantly I said, “Yes,” to get Sunny away from this Sapphire woman, but I was checking Sunny’s ass for wires when we got to Valentino’s mansion.

Gulping a shot of alcohol, Sapphire handed me a business card. Staring into my eyes, she said, “If you value Sunny’s life, call me at exactly ten-oh-four tonight. Not a minute before or after.” Then she told Sunny, “You’ll be back. And when you come back, know that you have an ass whipping waiting.”

Sometimes saying less was better and it was best if I kept quiet at this point. We’d drawn enough attention from the bartenders and from the patrons who should’ve been watching the two men and two women who were singing onstage.

If Sapphire had pulled her gun, I would’ve drawn mine and every security person in the casino would’ve surrounded us at the bar. All I saw playing in my head was that
Gang of Roses
western starring Lil’ Kim, Monica Calhoun, LisaRaye, Stacey Dash, and Macy Gray. Every bitch had a gun. That’s how real life should be.

Exiting the casino, I rubbed Sunny’s veins from her wrists to her shoulders. There was a lot different about Sunny’s personality. Although I didn’t see any tracks, she’d definitely taken something.

“Are you sure you’re not on drugs?”

“No, I don’t do drugs,” Sunny said, stumbling into the limo.

That was odd too. My Sunny considered XTC her drug of choice. Now she was claiming she doesn’t do drugs when her mood had swung from confident to peaceful in less than fifteen minutes. “Hmm,” I said, trying to figure this shit out en route to Valentino’s while Sunny danced in her seat the entire time singing, “Let’s go, kitty kat,” over and over. I wanted to scream, “Shut the fuck up!”

Arriving at the mansion, I instructed security, “I’ll escort the girls inside. Keep Sunny in the limo and don’t let her out of your sight.”

L
ounging in my cinema chair watching these bitches enter my dressing room with Lace, I stroked my dick wondering which one of them would try a G next. Obviously Lace was up to some foul shit, letting those tricks put on makeup and then get dressed without swiping their mouths or scooping their pussies.

Checking in with my boy, I dialed Lace’s home number to speak with Benito, but the nigga didn’t pick up so I called his cell. No motherfuckin’ answer. Benito wasn’t slick. His ass was either giving me a full report on Lace tonight or I was going to that fancy estate and personally whupping the black off his ass. Knowing that punk, he was probably tiptoeing across the border trying to pass as a Mexican right this minute.

“Fuck Benito. His leeching ass ain’t never did shit for me.” I called Lace on her cell.

“Yes?”

“Bitch, get your ass over here right now,” I said, then hung up, not giving her a chance to end the call first.

I swear if these hos didn’t make me so much money I’d fire all of ’em.

Three of my baby sharks swam in a perfect circle following each other. I pressed the button on my remote, and the feeding door retracted. I inhaled the salt water. Their jaws peeled outward, exposing their long, sharp teeth. I should’ve fed Sunny to them instead of trusting Benito to bury her, but I couldn’t let my pets devour my love.

I didn’t have love for Lace, but I did have lust and most importantly a G like me had dick control. One lie outta her tonight and I wouldn’t have to feed my sharks for another week. At least she had sense enough to have Reynolds’s body buried in the desert where the scorching sun would bake his ass into the sand and the desert ants would eat away his flesh. Reynolds’s only remains, his bones and teeth, would crumble like dust if anyone touched him. That was the kind of wisdom I needed from Benito.

No doubt Lace would get away with that murder rap unless some new DA tryna gain popularity was assigned to the case. I’d be the first to slip an envelope full of money under the table and raise my right hand to testify ’cause the bitch scrambled my video signal that night long enough for her do damage, then flee the scene as though she were never there. Clever bitch did exactly what I’d wanted her to. Let’s see how she gets past me tonight without trippin’ over her lies.

If it weren’t Sunny’s body, I would’ve told Lace to dispose of her instead of Benito, but Lace had fucked up again by parking her car at IP.

“Knock, knock,” Lace said, walking up to my study. She stood inside the doorway, letting her shoulder lean against the ledge.

“Come, in. Have a seat,” I said, making sure she sat facing the bookshelves.

I followed her roaming eyes, until they stopped where the
First Lady
once stood, paused, then continued to the opening in the floor. Suddenly she looked away only to return her gaze to both locations seconds later. Then Lace’s eyes scanned the bookshelves again.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“No, naw. Other than the fact that you forgot to close your tank. Everything’s good. I need to go do my inspections, what’s up?”

“Don’t!” I yelled, then whispered, “Play me for stupid. I watched you let them get dressed without doing any inspections. Where’s Sunny?” I asked, walking over to Lace, watching her ass every second.

“Sunny’s in the limo. Why?”

Oh, now this bitch really thought I was as dumb as her man. Grabbing her legs, I snatched her ass out of the chair.
Bam!
Her head, her ass, and her gun hit the floor at the same time.

“Bitch, stop lying! Where in the fuck is Sunny?”

“I told you, she’s in the limo.”

“Bitch!” I yelled, holding my heart.

Lace’s stiletto was a motherfuckin’ weapon. Falling backward, I almost landed in the tank. Lying on the floor, I looked up at this Wonder Woman, Cleopatra Jones bitch standing over me pointing a gun at my forehead, but she didn’t scare me.

That was impossible for Sunny to be in the limo, but what if somehow, someway, Sunny was alive and I didn’t kill her? What if the bullet only grazed her head and her heart? Maybe that’s why Sunny’s body was gone when Benito went back to get it. Stranger things had happened. I thought,
What the fuck are you trippin’ off of, nigga? You put the second bullet in her, then watched her take her last breath.

“You know something I don’t? Or that I should?” Lace asked, putting away her gun while roaming through the shelves.

Standing up, I massaged the back of my neck, then said, “Okay, bitch. If she’s in the limo, bring her to me.”

Stopping less than an inch from my face, Lace said, “Sure.” Her hands grasped my dick; then her lips met mine, as she meshed her gumdrops into my chest.

With her tongue swirling around in my mouth, there wasn’t much I could say, but a lot I could feel. With me working with Lace’s fine ass every day, secretly wanting her all the time, my dick must’ve felt like a piece of lead in her hand. Removing her thong, lifting her skirt, then tossing her leg into my arm, Lace opened my boxers and slipped my dick into her clambering pussy, then moaned, “I’ve always wanted you.”

Here we were, two murderers in heat. Neither one of us trusted the other, but I had no fuckin’ idea her pussy was this good. Hell, I should put her on a stroll. “Don’t move,” I insisted, lowering her leg. Retrieving a condom from my desk, I guided Lace to the caramel chair, put her face in the seat, and fucked her doggie-style because I hated looking into a woman’s eyes while fucking. Doggie-style kept the focus on the orgasm, not the bitch. All that missionary fucking was too emotional.

Lace sucked my fingers and when she turned her face to the side, I couldn’t believe I kissed her.

I stroked Lace long and deep until she started moaning, “Mmm, oh yes. Now, this is the dick of a real man. Oh yes. A real man.”

Lace repeated those words like she was in a fuckin’ trance. But so was I. The deeper I fucked her, the larger my dick felt. I wanted to come so bad but didn’t want to lose the sensation.

“You mind if I get this big-ass nut out of the way?”

“I’m ready whenever you are, Daddy. Come for Mama.”

Speeding up the pace, I fucked the shit out of Lace, banging her head against the cushion until, “Urgh! Urgh!” My legs trembled, then became weak. Bracing my hands on the arms of the chair, I needed shoulder strength to lift my body.

When did all this shit happen?
I thought, glancing at the now-closed tank and the place on the floor where Lace’s gun was. This bitch was slick and my ass was too weak to challenge her.

Lace stood. Lowering her skirt, and fingering her hair, she said, “I’ll be right back,” glancing over her shoulder as she strutted in those stilettos that never left her feet.

Pouring a glass of scotch, I sat my naked ass in my theater chair reconsidering paying Benito to kill Lace tonight. I might want to hit that good pussy one more time.

“Here she is.” Lace’s voice resonated from behind me.

I really didn’t want to turn around ’cause I knew Lace had probably hired some new bitch to replace Sunny.

“Well, you wanted to see her. She’s here.”

Slowly I swiveled my chair, facing her. “Aw, fuck no!” I scrambled in my seat, my feet shuffling on the Persian rug. Pointing at that bitch who couldn’t possibly be Sunny, I backed into the bookcases. My arms spread wide, slamming into books. Pages fluttered as books splattered beside my feet. My heart punched my chest. “Oh, shit! You tryna kill me. Get that bitch outta here!” I yelled, gasping for air, holding my chest.

Softly she asked, “Anthony? Is it you?” letting me know that was definitely Summer. Then who in the fuck had I killed?

I took a long deep breath until my stomach couldn’t stretch out another inch, then exhaled. “Lace! What the fuck are you doing fucking with my heads?” I wanted to get my gun and shoot both of those bitches.

Pointing at Summer, I second-guessed whether the woman standing in front of me was truly Summer, then said, “Bitch, let me see your teeth. Fuck that. I don’t need to see your fuckin’ teeth. You killed yourself. What in the fuck is going on?” I yelled, “Get the fuck outta here. Both of you.”

Opening her arms, Summer walked toward me. If I coulda slid between the pages of a book, I would’ve.

“I’m sorry I lied about killing our baby. My daddy made me do it. AJ is four years old now. He looks just like you, Anthony.”

Lace interrupted and said, “Aw, hell no. Stop right there,” just in time to save Summer, because I swore if Summer would’ve touched me I was bashing her face in.

“What, baby?” Lace questioned, frowing at me. “And who in the fuck is Anthony?” she asked, rattling Summer. “Now I know you’re on drugs. Sunny, let’s go.”

“Yeah! Whoever she is, get that bitch outta here and don’t bring her back! You’re wrong for this shit, Lace! Dead wrong!”