Thong on Fire (28 page)

He had let me pick out my own outfit for the night and I could tell he wasn’t disappointed by my choice of a gold Fendi dress that had cost three grand. We hadn’t fucked in a long time and I knew he missed it. He had sat on the bed watching me as I got dressed, and I gave his ass a real hot show as I slid into a gold thong and matching push-up bra. He had a funny smile on his face the whole time, and I loved that shit.

When we got in the limo things were even better. Free popped open a magnum of Cristal, and poured me some and watched me drink it.

“This is for you, Saucy,” he said, putting his arm around me. “It’s really your night tonight, baby. I want you to be comfortable and have a good time, okay? I want you to feel your best and shine your brightest.”

Free had some chilled shrimp in the whip with sliced lemons and cocktail sauce to go with them too, and he didn’t even look at me funny when I stuck a lemon in my mouth and chewed on the rind. He actually fed me the shrimp by hand, and I giggled as I licked his fingers and tried to suck on his thumb.

“Not now,” Free laughed as I reached for his big dick and squeezed that shit. He moved my hand away and slid my fingers through his.

“You ain’t even hard,” I complained, and Free laughed again.

“Don’t worry about this dick tonight, baby. You gonna have time to get plenty dick later on.”

Artists from a lot of different labels were scheduled to perform tonight, and as soon as we got out the whip I recognized a lot of rappers and ballers that I used to party with when I was just starting out in videos. Me and Free walked inside holding hands and waving to the crowd, smiling like the beautiful motherfuckers we was!

Inside the auditorium I was pissed to see that that bitch Dymond had showed up. I spotted her and her entourage on the other side of the hall. Marshall was with her too, and she shoulda been leading her little lapdog around on a leash. I
so
wanted to tell that nigga Marshall that outta the two of them, his wife was a better fuck and gave much better head, but I was wrapped in Free’s strong arms tonight so both of them could just kiss my ass.

But my eyes got real big when I saw Quaison was there too, sitting a few rows up from Dymond and Marshall. He must’ve slid in with somebody’s posse ’cause I knew damn well Tai hadn’t invited him. Free led me down to our seats in front and I held tight to his hand and acted like I didn’t see his number one public enemy glaring at us from the other side of the room.

Tai’s agency had billed this event as the hottest urban birthday show on the planet, and the press was out to see if it was gonna be true. I saw MTV and BET cameras, one from
The Black Press,
and two or three from cable channels, but there were also a lot of independent cats taking shots for
The Source, XXL, Don Diva
and other black urban magazines.

Of course there were crazy mics stuck in Free’s face. It was his big night and everybody wanted to hear from him. I stood next to him determined to make him damn proud. I knew I looked all class and polish, just the way Free wanted me to look. I had on a floor-length, back-out, shimmering light gold gown, with a simple diamond pendant around my neck. My bag was a small, classy clutch, and my shoes were made of the same shimmering material.

Whenever somebody important spoke to me, I answered just the way Free’s little stiff-ass etiquette coach had taught me. I smiled and maintained eye contact and made sure I kept my words in the right tense and with all the
ing
’s intact. I felt real stupid talking like a damn white girl, but I did it because it seemed like me and Free might be starting to vibe again and I wanted to show him that I could make the right impressions and bring positive points to his image.

After talking to a million people and being interviewed by a bunch of press, we finally made it down to our seats just as the show was about to begin. Dougie Fresh was MC’ing on the mic, and the first thing everybody did was stand up and sing “Happy Birthday” to Free.

It was live. I stood next to Free with the overhead lights coning us and sang to him with a big-ass smile on my face. Everybody in the whole damn joint had their eyes on us, and my man stood there grinning at me like he loved the ground I walked on.

I loved seeing that look in Free’s eyes. It made me hot, and I decided no matter what he said, I was gonna suck his dick down to the bone when we got back in that limo!

The entertainment lineup was fierce, and Tai and them had picked some of the best artists in the industry to perform for Free’s special night. There was also a line of new niggas standing around near the side of the stage, and in between each music act a few of them would go on the stage one by one and say a few words about Free and how he had inspired their music or opened doors for them in the business and whatnot. Then they each got five minutes under the new-jack spotlight to spit a freestyle aimed at showing Free luv. Some of them cats were lyrical masters and plenty of love was in their rhymes.

Free was digging that shit, I could tell. The smile never left his face. Even when they called him up on the stage to say a few words, which everybody knew wasn’t his favorite thing to do, he was still grinning. I squeezed his hand as he stood up. I knew he hated having the lights all over him, and he definitely wasn’t one to get on the mic unless he was giving up a killer rap.

“Whassup, people,” Free said, and the audience exploded with screams and applause, giving him props like he was da man.

“Y’all know I’m a man of few words and I ain’t one to go around runnin’ off at the mouth, so I’ll just say, thanks for showing love for my new jawn,
Keep It Gangsta,
and when the show is over make sure you stick around for the after-party. Peace!”

I was grinning my ass off as Free walked across that stage looking good as hell. No jewelry, air bling, but his gear was top shelf, his kicks banging, that gorgeous grin, them dimples and that goatee…goddamn. But the best part was the fact that every hatin-ass female in the joint could see that big powerful nigga was heading straight back to me.

“Yo hold up!” Dougie Fresh hollered just as Free was about to hit the steps. “We got one more artist who wanna give up some luv for Free!” He turned to his left and my blood ran cold. “Sorry, son! You shoulda stepped ya ass up with everybody else! But here’s ya new-jack minute. Gone and show Free ya luv!”

“What it do!” Quaison hollered into the mic like he was enjoying the crowd. “Whewwww! This feels good, man! Very good! Yeah, I got mad love for my son’s stepdaddy! What’s good my niggaz? I know I wasn’t invited but lemme smack ya’ll niggaz wit’ some fiyah right fast! Let’s get into this…I see you, Sauce! Let’s do it, baby! Yo Freedom, you ain’t
hustle
! You
knew
somebody who
knew
somebody, but nah nigga that ’ont make
you
somebody! Nope! Gimme the track lemme lay my heat, I’m up next! Lemme take my seat! It’s Qua Dawg! You ain’t
hustle
! You
knew
somebody who
knew
somebody but nah, nigga that ’ont make
you
somebody! Nope! Gimme the track lemme lay my heat, I’m up next! Lemme take my seat! I’m at the top of the list, young nigga fresh outta the trench, I smell like pussy? That mean I’m fresh outta ya bitch! I’m on another level fuck it, niggas can hate! Scared to come outta retirement? That’s a g-nigga’s requirement! Cuz I’m New York’s top pick! And my nine spit! Chew your food and treat ya girl like a side dish! So when I hit—I smack it outta the damn park! Money can buy a nigga anything but a damn heart! You lying to the people, you was puss from the damn start! Coward scared to battle so I call you a damn mark! You see how I slay tracks and see how it ain’t rap, you slide through my strip, and get ya g-ride banged at!—”

Dougie Fresh had heard e-damn-nuff. He snatched the mic from Quaison and started doing his human-beat-box thang to the same beat that Quai had been freestyling to. The crowd got so hyped off that shit till everybody was clapping and stomping their feet to Dougie’s shit, and ignoring Quai as he stood on the side of the stage looking stupid as fuck.

Still throwing that lip fire, Dougie ran across the stage and gave Free a big hug and beat-mouthed “happy birthday to you” as Free finally walked down the stairs and back to his seat.

“Now let’s hear that shit one more time for my man, FREEDOM MOORE!”

Free sat down next to me and the cameras onstage panned over us and he grabbed my hand then held it up in the air and grinned.

“What’s wrong with ya nigga, Saucy?” he leaned over and asked me as soon as the camera had panned back.

“My nigga?”

“Yeah. That sleazebag motherfucker up there talking shit like he wanna get murdered. Dude is cranky. When’s the last time you had his dick in your mouth?”

“What?!?!” I had just started clapping for the next act, but I stopped and turned to face him with my eyes popped out. “What the hell you talking about, Free? I didn’t know he was gonna get up there and act stupid! I ain’t even been with that nigga!”

“Yeah, so I’m his son’s stepdaddy, huh?”

“Free how I’m supposed to know what that motherfucker talking about? Shit, don’t let that nigga get all in your head and mind-fuck you! Nas look just like you and you know he’s yours!”

Free laughed. “Calm down, Saucy. I’m just playing. It’s all cool. ’Cause guess what?” He put his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I reached for it, but he snatched it back. “Know what this is?”

All of a sudden instead of sweet words there was ice chips coming outta Free’s mouth. But he was still grinning for them damn cameras.

“I was planning on giving it to you after the show, but this,” he said, looking straight ahead, “is my guarantee that tonight is gonna be the last fuckin’ night you ever sit your trifling ass down next to me anywhere and enjoy a minute’s worth of anything that I’ve put in work for. It’s my petition for full custody of Nasir, baby. My lawyers filed it yesterday. So you about to get served with your subpoena, and I’m about to get my tyke, yo. And I ain’t got nobody to thank for that but you.”

I couldn’t believe this shit! Free was buggin’ the fuck out!

“What? You talkin’ crazy, Free. You or nobody else ain’t taking my son from me.” I was ready to get loud, but his guard Feety reached over and touched my arm. He looked at me with a killer face and shook his head twice, like don’t even fuckin’ try it bitch.

I sat there as Free cheesed for the cameras and the crowd while steady calling me all kinds of dirty hos and crabs and nasty rabbits out the side of his mouth. It was like he was full of my shit and couldn’t hold it in not one minute longer. Pain was in his voice when he asked me how many times I came up in the crib and kissed on his son after sucking dicks in the streets all night long. He told me that no matter how much love he mighta had for me, I could never step my foot back in his crib no more, not even to get my clothes or any of my papers, and definitely not to see Nasir.

“You unfit, Saucy. A fuckin’ pig takes better care of her young. You left my shorty in the house by himself. That ain’t cool, baby. It’s criminal.”

“But Free! It was only for a little while! You came right back home. Plus, how was I supposed to know Aunt Mercy Ann was gone?”

He laughed loud as hell then, and that’s when I knew the two of them had set me up.

“See, that’s just it. You wasn’t supposed to know. But you
was
supposed to check. But don’t worry yourself about none of that shit no more! I got a cab waiting outside for you, ma, so you can step right now. Everything you had when you met me is in the back. Take ya nasty gear and roll. Just stay the fuck away from me and my son!”

This nigga was serious. He was done. All night long my mind had been on the wrong track. Here I had been planning to get him home and fuck his brain out backward, and he had been planning to make me feel all cozy and secure, then wait until the show was over and take me outside like trash and toss me the fuck off. Like I hadn’t laid up in pain and pushed out his baby! Like I hadn’t sucked and slobbed his dick down real good, or licked them big balls the way he liked them licked. Like I hadn’t stayed locked down in his New Jersey shack and put up with his stank-ass Aunt Mercy Ann!

Free couldn’t say enough nasty shit about me. He went on and on, like a toilet that had gotten stopped up, then overflowed. The shit Free was talking made me sound like I wasn’t nothing but a big bird whore, a two-cent backseat trick, and now he was kickin’ my ass outta his life like I was a stank piece of rotten fish.

I felt myself get sweating hot. Swelling up like a fuckin’ balloon. If I had a gun I woulda shot Free’s ass. But a knife woulda been better. I wanted to stab him in his throat and cut that fuckin’ smile off his face and make sure every damn body in the house got a good look at me doing it.

“Just calm your ass down and relax,” Free said again, clapping as another act finished on stage. “’Cause this ya last time in my light, baby. So you better enjoy it. Sit back and shine for the rest of the night, because you’ll never have another one like it on my dime.”

Oh, I was gonna shine tonight. Damn right I was. The MC had just introduced Reem Raw and his man Robb Hawk on the stage. They was looking good in some black Dickies with red tees under them, and I stood up and jetted before Free or Feety realized what was up. I ran over to the middle of the stage and hiked my three-thousand-dollar Fendi dress up, then threw my leg over and climbed up there and joined Reem and Robb in their act.