The Man in 3B (9 page)

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Authors: Carl Weber

Tags: #Fiction / African American - Contemporary Women, #Fiction / Contemporary Women, #Fiction / African American - General

BOOK: The Man in 3B
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“Look, I’m not going to hurt you ever again,” I assured him, kissing the top of his head. I was becoming slightly irritated but trying to hide it. All I wanted to do was cuddle and savor this moment. I hate to admit it, but I was willing to say whatever I had to, to make sure he didn’t get up and leave. “We can have as many babies as you want, as long as you continue to make me feel like this.”

I felt Daryl finally relax as he pulled me into the crook of his arm.

“This is where I want to be,” I said as I kissed him.

“You sure this time?”

“Mmmm-hmm.” I nodded, suddenly feeling sleepy. I just wanted
to conk out and doze for a while. That’s what good loving will do for you.

Unfortunately, Darryl still wanted to talk. “I want us to start a family, babe. See, I got a new place. Maybe you can move in. I’d like to buy a house in a year. I just need a little bit more time.” He was sounding more excited with each word. How the hell did this man have so much energy after all the sex we’d had?

“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” I asked, fighting to keep my eyes from closing. This was probably the time I should have told him about my life and the things that were going on in it, but I was too damn tired.

“Maybe, but we’ve got a lot of time to make up for. So what do you say? Wanna move in?”

“That sounds like a plan,” I murmured. “But we can talk about that over lunch. Right now I need a nap.”

“I guess I knocked you out, just like old times, huh?” he said, his voice full of pride. I wasn’t mad at him for being proud, though. He still had the touch; in fact, he was even better. I was feeling weak as a kitten.

“Yep, you sure did.”

He pulled the duvet over my shoulders and wrapped his arms around me again. With a happy sigh, I drifted off to sleep.

Benny
10

“Hey, Benny, what’s up, my man?”

I looked up from my Kindle to see Daryl coming up the stairwell, carrying a bag of groceries. It was good to see him. He’d been kind of MIA ever since he saved our asses from Leroy and Muscles the other day.

“Nothing much, Daryl. How you been? You’re looking mighty chipper.” I stood from where I was sitting on the stairs to greet him.

“I don’t know about chipper, but I’m happy as hell. Been spending time out in the Hamptons with a friend, getting a little sun, some rest, and a little something else.” He came up the steps and gave me a pound and a snap.

He noticed the e-reader in my other hand. “That one of those Kindles?”

“Yeah, it’s a cool little gadget. I was reading this biography about Steve Jobs, the founder of Apple. Pretty interesting stuff.”

“Reading in the stairwell?” he said with a laugh. “I heard of people reading in the bathroom. Matter of fact, I do that myself. But you’re taking it to another level.”

I shrugged. I was used to people around here calling me nerdy, so I didn’t know whether he was making fun of me.

“Your pops is right. You really are a big brain. That’s good, man.”

“Thanks.” I relaxed, knowing for sure now that it was a compliment.

“So, big brain, why you in the stairwell instead of the comforts of your own home?”

“Oh, yeah, well, Pop has
company
, so I’m just chilling out here
until he’s finished. I’m, uh, you know, tryin’ to give him a little privacy.”

“I heard that. Seems likes your pops be having a lot of company,” Daryl said with admiration in his tone.

“Yeah, he does,” I said with a halfhearted laugh.

I guess Daryl picked up on the fact that I wasn’t too enthusiastic about Pop’s extracurricular activities. “That’s cool,” he said. “You don’t have to hang out here in no stairwell. Not when I’m around at least.”

He walked past me to the entry to the third floor. “Besides, don’t I owe you an ass whipping in that new
Madden 2013
? You were talking junk about my Cowboys, weren’t you?”

Madden 2013
versus reading in the hallway—it was a no-brainer. With Kindle in hand, I followed Daryl to his apartment. Within minutes, we were sitting on the sofa with controllers in hand, going at it in a game of
Madden
.

“A’ight, youngin’, I guess you do have some skills,” Daryl admitted after I scored on him for the third time.

“I can do a little something,” I said as I continued to whip his butt. “But what I wish I could do was fight like you. What was that you was using the other day on Leroy and them, some type of martial arts?”

“Something like that. I used to do a lot of MMA back in the day, and I have a black belt in karate.”

“MMA?”

“Mixed martial arts. You know, like the UFC?”

“You used to fight in the UFC?” No wonder he’d kicked Leroy’s ass so easily.

He lifted his hand. “Nah, I never fought in the UFC, but I did have a couple fights for their competitor, PRIDE.”

“Get the hell outta here. Really? Did you win?”

“Six wins, one loss,” he said proudly.

“That’s pretty good. Why’d you stop?”

“Other than the fact that I got knocked the fuck out in my last fight, it’s a big commitment. I was making more money in my day
job anyway.” He paused for a minute and looked away, like he was remembering something. “Plus, when someone puts their hands on me or mine, I have a tendency to hold grudges and want to kill them.”

“Yeah, I can understand that. That’s how I feel about them dudes Leroy and Muscles. But they’re gonna get theirs. My day is coming.”

He offered, “I could teach you a few self-defense moves if you want.”

This guy was so cool. I didn’t know too many adults, other than my father, who seemed genuinely interested in me. I decided in that moment to confide in him something I hadn’t even told my own father. “Nah, I got something better than karate moves. I got a guy who’s gonna get me a gun next week.”

Daryl hit pause on the game and put down his controller. He looked at me and said, “Whoa… slow your roll, young brother. Those cats ain’t worth it and carrying a gun ain’t you.” I was surprised that he raised his voice and even more surprised he was against me having a gun after the way he punked Muscles. “Let me give you a little advice. Never let anyone change who you are inside. You’re no thug. What the hell do you need a gun for?”

Was he serious with that question? He saw the way Leroy and Muscles were coming at me. “To protect me and my pops,” I replied defiantly. “They ain’t never gonna do that to us again.”

“Look, Benny, if you want, I’ll teach you how to protect yourself, but you don’t need no gun.”

“Why?” I pushed. “You got a gun, don’t you? Tell me you don’t have a gun.” I stared him dead in the face, waiting for an answer.

“Look, the world I deal with is different from yours.”

“Oh, really? You trying to tell me the world you supposedly live in is worse than what happened to me and Pop?”

He hesitated for a second. “Nah, I can’t say that, but let me ask you something. What do you know about guns?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Nothin’ yet.”

“Exactly my point. All a gun’s gonna do is get you thrown in jail, and trust me, that’s not a place you wanna go. Now, you don’t have to worry about those cats no more. I took care of it.”

“How?” Something about the way he said it made me understand that he was talking about more than just the ass whipping he’d delivered the other day.

He shifted his eyes briefly in my direction as if I shouldn’t be questioning him. I got the message and sat back on the sofa.

“You’re gonna have to trust me on that, Benny, but it’s taken care of. You have my word on that.”

“Okay, I trust you,” I said, knowing there was no use in arguing with him. I knew he meant well, but I was still going to buy a gun, and no one—not my pops, not Daryl, or anybody else—was gonna stop me.

“Thanks. I appreciate that. Now tell me something. What was that all about anyway? Why were they after you?”

I really didn’t want to talk about it, but if I owed anyone an explanation, it was Daryl. “They wanted me to rob a jewelry store with them,” I admitted.

“You?” Daryl looked confused. “They wanted you to rob a jewelry store with them? No offense, Benny, but that doesn’t even sound right.”

“It does if you need someone to deactivate the alarm system.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Daryl nod like it made sense now. “You’re that good with computers that you can crack passwords and stuff, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I answered, tired of talking about this. “We gonna get back to the game?” I picked up my controller, ready to play again.

When he didn’t answer, I looked over at him. It was clear that his mind was not in the game but elsewhere.

“Hey, can you excuse me for a minute? I wanna get out of these clothes.” He stood up with a strange sense of urgency. He nearly fell over the coffee table as he left the room. “Feel free to hit the fridge. There’s some soda in there. There’s beer in there too.”

“I’ll grab a soda if you don’t mind,” I said, standing up. “I can’t drink beer legally for another three weeks. And trust me, you don’t want my pops breathing down your neck over one beer.”

“All right, then, help yourself to a soda,” I heard him say as he disappeared into his bedroom.

Each apartment was pretty much the same, so I knew my way to the kitchen. I grabbed a can of soda, cracked it open, and guzzled half of it.

“Here.”

I turned around. Daryl was standing there in jeans and a T-shirt. He was holding a box, which he stretched out to me. “This is for you. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“What is it?”

“A Glock 9 millimeter semiautomatic.”

“For me?” I was confused. Was this some sort of reverse psychology trick he was trying to pull? “I thought you said I shouldn’t have a gun.”

“I did, and I still feel that way, but I could tell by your eyes that you weren’t listening to me. You were still gonna buy a gun, weren’t you?”

I nodded slowly, embarrassed that he could read me so well. “How can you be sure those guys aren’t gonna come after me again?” I asked in an attempt to explain myself.

Daryl didn’t answer my question. Instead, he said, “You buy a gun on the streets, Benny, it’s probably gonna have a body on it. I know this gun is clean because I bought it myself at a gun show down in Virginia. Least this way, you ever get caught with it, you’re only doing a year for gun possession.”

Wow. Pop would have never seen things this way. Having Daryl was like having a cool older brother. “Thanks, Daryl.”

I opened up the box, grinning like it was Christmas morning.

“Don’t thank me,” he said. “I’m doing this against my better judgment. Your father ever finds out I gave you this and I’m the one who’s gonna be dead. Now, let’s go.” He took the box out of my hands and threw it into a knapsack.

“Where are we going?” I asked. He was already halfway to the door.

“You ever fire a gun?”

“No,” I said honestly, following him.

“Well, there’s no reason to own one if you don’t know how to use
it. This isn’t a video game, Benny. This damn thing can take a man’s life or get you killed. If you’re gonna carry, you need to know the proper way to handle it.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything. Having the gun would make me feel safer, but Daryl’s words kind of brought me back down to earth. Carrying a gun was no joke.

“I’ve got a friend who owns a junkyard over there on Liberty. I just gave him a call, and he said we can do a little practicing over there. Let’s go. I wanna be back home before dark so I can get some rest. I’m supposed to be back in the Hamptons at nine in the morning.”

Avery
11

My confidence was high as I returned home from work. After hanging out with Cain and the girls, I’d made the decision to take hold of my own future. I’d had a taste of the good life, along with some very good pussy, and I wanted it for myself. So I’d been working my ass off, despite the fact that I hated my job, to prove that I should get the promotion to manager.

And it had finally paid off. I’d gotten a call from my boss, Dave. He wanted to see me to discuss his transition to the main office and my replacing him as manager. I still had to go through the formal interview process with the store’s owner, Sam, but neither of us was worried about that. Things were finally looking up.

“Hey, you must be Avery,” I heard someone say as I placed my key in my door. I turned to see some dude that looked like he’d just jumped off the cover of
GQ
magazine. “Nice to meet you.”

I shot him a wary look. “Do I know you?”

“Oh, my bad, partner.” He leaned in with an extended hand, looking all cheery and shit. “Forgive me. I’m Daryl, your new neighbor in 3B. I met your wife. She’s a really nice lady. You’re a lucky man.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
I almost asked him but decided it wasn’t worth it to kill my good mood. At least I knew how dude knew me.

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” I said, giving him a short handshake, then turning away to let him know I wasn’t interested in small talk. I didn’t want dude to think I was the buddy-buddy kind that he
could stop by and borrow a cup of sugar from. Not that I planned on being around this dump too long after I got my promotion.

“Nice meeting you too,” he said hesitantly, probably sizing me up as well. “Listen, is it okay if I work out your wife?”

“Excuse me?” I straightened my back and turned to look him in the eye.

“Oh, sorry. Maybe that didn’t come out right. Your wife’s trying to lose weight. I told her I’d be her personal trainer if it’s all right with you.”

“She’s a grown-ass woman. She can do whatever the hell she wants as long as it doesn’t cost me anything.” I waited for him to respond, but he only stood there with this dumb look on his face. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just got finished working all night and I’m tired.” I turned away from him and unlocked my door.

“Well, then I guess I’ll see you around,” he said.

Neither one of us bothered with a good-bye before I went into my apartment.

Inside, I heard soft music playing and noticed the light of a candle flickering against the ceiling, a sign that Connie was probably up. Before I could figure out a way to avoid her, she came out of the kitchen with her hands behind her back like she was hiding something. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hide those rolls of fat that were hanging out of the negligee she’d squeezed into. I felt like I wanted to hurl.

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