Thugs And The Women Who Love Them (11 page)

She went into the bedroom. Tyler was out cold, snoring. He was making up for the two days he claimed he hadn't slept. As Kyra lotioned up her skin, she heard a knock at the front door.
What the fuck?
She snatched her short satin robe off the back of the door. She figured it was Jaz and Roz. They were the only ones who didn't care what time they called or what time they barged into someone's house. Kyra slid the cover off the peephole and then slammed it back. Her breathing came in rapid, short breaths. She felt like she was hyperventilating. Her back pressed into the door as she slid down and sat her naked butt on the floor.

“Dayum! Dayum! Dayum!” she said out loud.

Marvin was at the door. It had been seven years, but she recognized his face instantly. He was bold as hell, coming here this time of night, knowing that she lived with Tyler.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

She couldn't move. He knocked harder. That got her up, 'cause she didn't want to wake Tyler. She cracked the door as far as the chain would go.

“What's up, baby girl?” he said in that smooth, sweet voice that she remembered so well.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, I know. But that ain't important. Only thing important is me seein' my baby girl.”

“You should have called first and saved yourself a trip.”

“I'ma let that remark go.”

“Marvin, I have a man in the bedroom, asleep. This is his place.”

“Baby girl, I just need five minutes.”

“I'm not dressed.”

Kyra looked at him and then looked back at the bedroom. Her head was spinning.

“Please. Just five minutes.”

Kyra closed the door, slid off the chain and let him in. Her heart felt like it was beating ninety miles an hour, and she could barely breathe. Marvin was looking damned good. He'd put on weight, but it looked like all muscle. He'd grown a fine, thin beard. His head was almost bald. He wore a black Sean Jean denim outfit and the shirt was open, showing off his six-pack. He was wearing Cool Water cologne. The brother was on.

Kyra's head was no longer spinning. Her body was now trembling. Just like it used to whenever he was in her presence.
Prison does a nigga good,
she thought.

Marvin looked her up and down. His heart and his dick were twitching. She looked more mature and her hair was different. She put on a few pounds, but they were definitely in the right places. Other than that, she looked the same as she did seven years ago. She wore a gold colored short, satin robe that exposed those pretty brown legs she used to wrap around his back. He had waited seven years to see his beautiful baby girl again. Marvin felt like he was dreaming.

“The clock is ticking.” She was afraid to make eye contact.

Marvin cleared his throat. “Kyra, all I did was think about you and dream about you while I was away. I still love you. I told you that you would be my baby girl forever and I meant it. You told me that you wanted me to be your man forever. I want back in. I want to be your man and take care of you.”

“I don't need nobody to take care of me, and you have one minute left.”

“Let me be your man like I promised.” He was looking her up and down. He could hardly contain himself.

“I got a man, Marvin. You know that.”

“Then why are you trembling? And why can't you look at me?” He looked around the room. “Why are these boxes packed? If you care about your man so much, why you movin'?”

“How you know the boxes are mine?”

“I know you, baby girl, and I know you ain't happy.”

“I know you don't think you can just walk in here and start where we left off. It's been seven years. People change. I've changed. You've changed. We all change.”

“Change is good. We both changed for the better. My love for you has grown, and look at you. Still trembling like you used to.”

“Your five minutes is up, Marvin.” Kyra opened the door.

“Okay, but just answer me this. Do you still have feelings for me?”

“It's been seven years.”

“Do you still have feelings for me? Yes or no? Say no and I'm out.” Marvin was really going for it.
I'm almost on my hands and knees begging,
he thought.

Kyra looked at him. She wanted to say no just because she was angry at him. No words would come out. It was something about him standing there in front of her that brought back all those old feelings. She felt the tears welling up.
Oh, shit!
That was the last thing she wanted him to see her do. But it was too late. The tears were coming down. He reached over, grabbed her face and kissed her tears. He took her in his strong arms and held her tight. Kyra was sobbing big time.

“I thought you were dead, Marvin. You were supposed to protect me.” She sobbed. “Then, you weren't even there for me when I almost died.”

“I'm here for you now, baby girl.” He put his lips to hers and tasted her salty tears. “Are you still my baby girl?” he asked her while he wiped her tears away. She looked him in his eyes but she didn't answer. He kissed her again.

“I am so mad at you, Marvin.”

“You should be. You don't know how bad I felt. I am so sorry. I'll make it up to you if you let me.”

Kyra felt confused as hell. On one hand, here was a nigga who she was crazy about. But he got her strung out on dope, then left her for seven years. Then there was another nigga, sleep in the bed just a few feet away. He'd been there for her since day one, taking care of her and looking out for her. She pushed Marvin back.

“I need some time to sort some things out.”

He pulled her close and put his tongue deep in her mouth. She tasted so good. He wasn't planning on letting her go tonight or any other night. He eased his hand down, and in one smooth move he opened her robe. They kept kissing, enjoying the taste of each other. Kyra, just as smooth, tied the robe back. He eased his hand back down and felt between her legs. It was so moist. He slid two fingers across her clit and then slid them inside her. She moaned and grabbed him tighter. He pulled out his fingers and ran his tongue up and down them.

“You still taste so sweet, baby girl. I've been waitin' for this for so long.” He kissed her again, opened her robe and stroked her nipples.

“Marvin, we can't do this. He's right in there,” she whispered, pushing him away.

“Yes, we can.” He pulled her close and kissed her long and hard.

He picked her up, carried her into the kitchen and set her on the counter. He put his mouth on her breasts and licked them like they were ice cream cones. Kyra was on fire. She unbuckled his pants and started stroking him. He was already hard. She guided the head and started rubbing it all over her wet mound. Her moaning got louder and louder. He still remembered what each moan meant. He slid it in, going in as deep as he could.

“Don't move,” she said. It was in so deep and Kyra just wanted to savor the feeling that only he could give her. Marvin always felt so good. He always took his time and made sure she was satisfied. She kissed him and told him how much she'd missed him. Then she told him to make her come real hard. Marvin humped so hard that each time he came out and went back in he lifted her off the counter. Kyra wrapped her legs around his back and held on for dear life.

“Marvin! Marvin! Marv—” she moaned as her body went limp. He went back to licking her nipples, neck, ears, and then sucking on her tongue. His dick was still in deep and it was still hard.

“You okay, baby girl?”

She looked him in the eyes and kissed him softly on his lips. “Damn, I've missed you,” she said.

“I know. I've missed you, too.”

Kyra started gyrating her hips, making him even harder inside her.

“I ain't got no protection on, baby girl, and I'm gonna come real hard if you don't stop.”

She stopped moving. “How much do you miss me?” she whispered.

“More than you'll ever know.”

“Kiss me,” she said. He did as he eased out of that place where he'd dreamt about being for seven years. Then she put both feet on the counter and slowly pushed his head down between her legs. He parted her lips and began licking and sucking. It was driving her crazy. She moaned and groaned and gyrated those hips until she exploded again. She lay back on the counter as limp as a rag doll. Marvin grabbed some paper towels, wiped himself, her and the counter.

“Go pack the rest of your shit, baby girl. I'm taking you with me.” Before she could protest, he said, “I don't want to hear shit about that nigga in the other room, 'cause obviously he ain't handling his business. You act like you ain't been fucked in months.”

Kyra looked at him as he lifted her off the counter. He leaned down and kissed her.

“Go ahead. Pack the rest of your shit. I'll start taking the other boxes downstairs.”

She did as she was told.

Marvin had taken off his shirt while he was carrying her stuff downstairs. After the last of the stuff was in the truck, he told Kyra to wait in the truck while he went up to get his shirt. When he got into the apartment, he pulled out his gat and went into the bedroom. He pressed the hard steel to Tyler's nose. Ty's eyes popped wide open.

“What's up, partna?” Marvin said to Tyler. “Who got the upper hand now? I know you ain't think I was gonna let you slide with robbin' me and killin' my boy. You dumb motherfucker.”

“Fuck you!” Tyler spat, with the steel stuck to his nose.

“If you would have been fucking your woman, she wouldn't have been packing. I'm enjoying this. This is my day. I just got done fucking her right in your kitchen, man. I can't believe how dumb you are. However, I do appreciate you looking out for her and keeping her safe while I was gone. See you in hell, partna!”

“T
aylor! Bag and baggage!” C.O. Johnson coughed as the Camel dangled from her lips.

“Bust the fucking gates!” yelled Micki Taylor, Jaz's twenty-nine-year-old sister.

“Don't come back no time soon. Let us at least get a chance to wash your sheets,” C.O. Johnson barked sarcastically.

“Don't worry about me. I'ma be a'ight,” Micki said with a nervous squeak in her voice. She picked up the army green duffle bag that held the stuff she'd collected over the last five years. Then she flopped down on the metal bench and stared at the sign that read “Receiving and Discharging—Clinton Correctional Women's Facility.”

She let out a long sigh. The correctional facility had been her residence for the last half decade, ever since she was convicted for possession and trafficking crack cocaine. She rubbed her sweaty hands, then got down on her knees and prayed.

“Oh, Lord, please give me the strength to stay on the right path. Thank you for keeping my three daughters, Tameka, Shadai and Misa safe for me. Thank you for allowing them to forgive me and not forget me. I want to be a mother to them and take care of them. Please give me strength. Amen.”

“Good-bye, Pink. Take care of yourself.” That was her drug counselor, Mr. Rhames. He waved at her and kept on going. They had developed a pretty good friendship during the time Micki was locked up. He always teased her, telling her she looked just like the white punk rocker who went by the name Pink.

“Let's go, Taylor,” another officer shouted.

Here goes to be being free,
Micki said to herself as the metal gates clicked, clanged, and clacked to slide open and set her free. Then it clicked, clanged, and clacked to keep the rest of the sisters inside.

The sun was shining bright as she stepped outside on this crisp October day. Micki was looking forward to seeing her baby sister, Jaz. She set her green duffle bag on the ground, stretched out her arms, looked up at the sky and yelled, “I'm Freeeee!” as she twirled around in circles. People were passing by on their way to work or to visit relatives who were locked up, but no one paid her any attention. She slowed her circles and leaned over, resting her hands on her knees. That's when she burst out laughing. She felt so good. At least, until she looked up and saw a white man with greasy, slicked back hair. He was blowing kisses in her direction. She stood up and glared at him.

“Well, hello, Mr. Hamilton.” Micki smirked, folding her arms. It was her jive-ass public defender.

“Hello.” He grinned as he extended his hand. “And you are?”

“Why do you want to know?” His sorry ass didn't even recognize her.

“I was going to offer you a ride. It looks like you need one.”

“You don't even recognize me, do you? You slimy motherfucker!” She spat. His face reddened.

“It's Micki Taylor, Mr. Sign-this-MissTaylor-and-the-most-you'll-do-is-two-years. You greaseball. I ended up doing five fuckin' years thanks to your sorry ass! I hope you burn in hell!” She picked up a handful of rocks and threw them at him. He ran.

Honk! Honk! Honk!

Micki turned at the sound of the car horn. It was a Cadillac Escalade, and a woman was hanging out the window, pointing a video camera.

“Busted!” Angel yelled. “Throwing rocks at a white man! Ain't been out of jail five minutes and already you committing a crime!”

Micki screamed and ran toward the car. Jaz and Roz jumped out of the car. Everyone was screaming, jumping up and down. Angel was walking, holding the video camera steady, trying to tape this Kodak moment.

“Welcome to the free world, big sis.” Jaz kissed her eldest sister and grabed her in a big bear hug.

“Dayum! You been killing the potatoes, dawg!” Roz joked.

“Puh-leese! You should have seen my big ass two months ago. I was 160 pounds. Now I'm down to 142.” Micki grinned, turning and spinning, trying to walk like a model.

“Come give me a hug, you yellow heifer,” Micki joked at Angel.

“It takes one to know one. You lighter than me!” Angel laughed, then said, “Your hair is the shit. They got them kind of skills up in there?”

“Yeah. You got every kind of skill imaginable behind bars. Some of the sisters got it going on. I'ma miss a few of them, but I ain't going back. Let's get the fuck outta here before they change their minds.” They all hopped in the Escalade.

“Lil' sis, you gotta be slangin' something to be rocking this shit! This is nice. I wish my homegirls could have seen me jump into this.” She opened the glove compartment.

“Faheem bought this for me,” Jaz said.

“Oh, yeah. Faheem. I like that picture of you and him that you sent me. That nigga is fine. He look like Method Man, only a little better. I would love to hit that!”

“Don't even think about it, my sister. Ain't no man swapping in this family.” They all laughed.

“You got that nigga sprung anyway, from what I heard. See, we get all the gossip that goes on out here in the so-called free world. Them hos up in there be talking about the ballers, and his name comes up quite often. They say he's a freak. They can't wait to get out to get with that. He be slangin' hard I heard. Naw, but I did hear that he done chilled as far as the hos are concerned.”

“He used to deal, but not anymore. Them hos can forget it. He's my freak now. I got that on lock.”

“I hear you, baby sis. Handle your business.”

“How he buy this car?”

“He own liquor stores all over town. No matter what side of town you go to. North, south, east or west. He got it on lock.”

“Shit, he make that much loot just sellin' liquor?” Micki asked.

“Not exactly,” Jaz admitted. “He's sellin' counterfeit bills.”

“Yeah,” added Roz. “And the shits look real, girl.”

“That's right. My man be pullin' in money by the truckload in his business,” Jaz said proudly.

“Dayum! That's what I'm talking bout. Don't fuck it up, Jaz. Take it from me. I got three babies and three babies' daddies. Only one of them is worth something. When you find some man who'll take care of you and love you, you better hold on to him. And it's bonus if he can fuck you. You hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“Why was you throwing rocks at that white dude?” Angel asked.

“That was my fucking shithead public defender. I hate him. I'm glad I wasn't packing a gat,” hissed Micki.

“I'm glad, too,” Roz said. “You ain't bringing me down for conspiracy to murder.”

“I feel you. Where's your cousin Kyra?” Micki asked, turning around to look at Angel.

“That's a long story,” Angel said.

“Well, start talking. We got a two and a half hour drive, and I want to know all the gossip.”

“I thought you hear everything on the inside,” teased Angel.

“I want to hear it from the horse's mouth. Not the watered down version.”

“Well, you know that nigga Marvin got out, right?”

“Hell, yeah. That's another name that comes up all the time. He did seven years at Sing Sing. They say he look finer than before he went upstate. And they say he is paid.”

“Anyway, the same day he got out he went to see Kyra, and the bitch was living in Tyler's crib. Tyler was asleep and Marvin fucked her right there in Tyler's house. Then he made Kyra pack her shit and he took her with him that same night. He went back and smoked Tyler. Now Marvin and Kyra live somewhere in the boondocks with all these bougie black folks.”

“And she five months pregnant!” Jaz put her two cents in.

“What? He went to the nigga's house and fucked her? Dayum. That nigga ain't nothing nice. This sound like some TV Mafia shit. He must have been puttin' it down for her to go back with him after seven fuckin' years,” Micki said. “Now that's some gossip! Well, is Kyra happy?”

“Every time we see her she is. He got her a house, and that shit is laid!” Roz said.

“Well, at least somebody's happy. Me? I just wanna stay out of trouble. No more drugs. I just wanna go home and sit in the tub and spend time with my children. I got to get to know them all over again.” She got quiet as she stared out the window. “Misa is five and a half years old now. Shadai is seven and Tameka is eight. They don't know me.”

“Stop the sentimental shit, Micki. Tonight is girls' night out. I got it all planned. One more day ain't gonna hurt what's already done. You can start playing mommy tomorrow,” said Jaz. “Faheem got us a limo. We gonna eat at Sylvia's restaurant in Harlem, then we goin' clubbin'.”

“E-yeah, e-yeah! e-yeah! We be clubbin! Everybody like it when a girl shake sumthin'! We be clubbin'!” They all were bouncing, trying to sing Ice Cube's joint. They belted out the tune until none of them knew the rest of the words, then they burst out laughing.

“Serious y'all. Get fly. Put on your hoochie gear and be at my momma's crib at 7:30. The limo will be picking us up from there,” Jaz instructed.

Jaz dropped off Roz and then Angel. She and Micki headed for their mother's house. Their dad was waiting on the porch. They had the house decorated inside and out. Micki's daughters were all dressed up, and they each had a gift for her. Grandma Rachel, Micki and Jaz's mom, dad and their two brothers, Punk Eddy and Darien, with his four kids, were all there. Their sister Tanisha and her two kids were there as well. Everyone was glad to see that Micki was home.