Welfare Wifeys (14 page)

“What do you want me to do?” Her voice trembled.

“Same thing you were doing when I busted in on you. Get ready to receive your man.”

• • •

Lee was happy to get away from Harlem and back to the solitude of his Brooklyn hideaway. He hated the fact that he always had to go uptown to meet Rico, but you didn’t make waves with someone who was allowing you to get more money than you’d ever seen in your life.

He looked at his watch and saw that it was eight-thirty, which meant he would be right on time. Ever since he had met the brown-skinned chick at the strip club they had been partying like rock stars. It had gotten so deep that he even started letting her stay at a brownstone he owned in Brooklyn rent-free. As a show of her appreciation, in addition to their normal sexual romps she treated him to something especially nasty once a week. His fiancée was starting to get suspicious about his weekly disappearing acts but brown skin’s pussy was so good he didn’t even care. Last week he found her dressed like a runaway slave and he got to be the plantation owner who took her virtue. He couldn’t wait to see what she had planned for him that day.

As soon as Lee entered the brownstone he could smell the sweet smell of chronic, barely covered by the scented candles burning all over the house. “Baby, where are you?” Lee called.

“I’m upstairs,” she called back.

He rounded the corner leading to the stairs and saw a trail of discarded clothing, starting at the ground floor and leading up. “That’s what I’m talking about,” Lee said and started removing his own clothes as he climbed the stairs. There was a trail of candles leading up the stairs and to the bedroom door. He could see the candlelight flickering in the darkened bedroom, highlighting his lady’s nude silhouette stretched across the bed on her stomach, waiting to receive him. Both her hands were bound to either side of the bedposts by silk scarves.

Lee swooped down and began to let his hands explore her nakedness. He planted soft kisses on her back and ass while whispering what he was about to do to them. His hand slipped between her
legs and explored her box with its two longest fingers. She was soaking wet and it only served to make Lee’s dick harder. He was so overwhelmed by lust that it never occurred to him that it was impossible for her to have tied her own arms to the bed.

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting on this all day.” Lee mounted her from behind. He pushed his throbbing penis against her lips softly, going just a little deeper every time. She was so wet he was able to easily tap the back of her walls with each ecstasy-filled stroke. “Feels like you’ve been waiting on it too, huh?”

“Umm hmm,” she moaned. Lee was hitting her spot, but the fear of the third party in the room kept her from enjoying it.

“Damn, this shit is warm.” Lee breathed against her back and sank into the hidden compartments of her love. He tried to keep his slow even rhythm but her pussy was so good he found himself speeding up. Lee’s chest heaved like he was running the hundred-meter dash as he pounded her, feeling himself about to blast off. “Damn, I’m ’bout to bust . . . I’m ’bout to bust . . .” Just as Lee was climaxing a plastic bag was slipped over his head.

“That’s right, I want you to struggle.” Animal held Lee in a headlock as he thrashed about. Animal waited until Lee looked like he was about to pass out before ripping a hole in the bag. Lee collapsed on the floor and gasped in the sweet air like he was breathing for the first time.

“Man, what the fuck is this all about? Do you know who I am?” Lee coughed.

Animal looked at him pitifully. “You know, the bad guy in the movie always asks that dumb-ass question when he finds himself on the short end, but the answer never changes anything.” Animal casually screwed the silencer onto his gun. “Yes, I know just who you are and what you are. A fucking thief.”

“You must be outta your mind, chump. I’m getting dough in them streets, I’m with Rico!” Lee declared as if dropping his boss’s name would increase his chances of living.

“Yeah, y’all are getting a lot of bread working under Rico, which is why he’s so disappointed in you for stealing from him, Lee,” Animal lied.

Lee suddenly realized the seriousness of his situation. “Man, that’s bullshit. I’ve been loyal to Rico from the day he put me down. Ask him!”

“Ain’t no sense in asking at this point. What’s done is done.”

Animal shot Lee in one kneecap and then the other.

“MUTHAFUCKA!” Lee screamed, holding his knees. “You can’t do me like this. This is fucked up!”

Animal started to shoot him again, but had a better idea. “You’re right. This ain’t no way for one of Rico’s boys to go out.” Animal reached into the shoulder bag and pulled out a small Louisville slugger. “Since you niggaz under Rico are supposed to be such stand-up dudes I’m gonna make it so you can’t stand up.” Animal laughed before he tore into Lee with the bat. He struck him all over, paying special attention to his back and legs. After a while the pain got so intense that Lee couldn’t do much but lie there and twitch.

“Please stop!” the woman sobbed from the bed.

Animal looked over his shoulder. “Don’t talk,” he told her. “It fucks with my concentration.” Feeling creative Animal plucked a few hairpins from the woman’s vanity table and knelt with them and a candle beside Lee’s prone body. “You still with us?” Animal slapped Lee until he finally started to groan. “Good, I can’t have you blacking out on me. If you’re not awake it takes the fun out of what I’m about to do.”

“Please . . .” Lee whispered, but Animal ignored him and continued his preparations. He held the hairpins over the candles until the tips turned red and began to smoke.

“Growing up I’ve always been fascinated by something my granny used to say.” Animal placed his forearm across Lee’s throat so he couldn’t turn his head. “An eye for an eye.” He slipped one of
the hairpins into Lee’s eye, drawing a high wail from the semiconscious man. When the hairpin cooled he heated another one and worked on the other eye. By the time he finished Lee was no longer conscious. Animal had feared that he’d accidentally killed him, but was pleased when he felt the faint pulse at the base of Lee’s throat. Leaning in he whispered, “Remember, this is what happens when you cross Rico.” When he was done drilling Rico’s name into Lee’s subconscious he walked over to the nightstand with his shoulder bag. From inside he produced a Pepsi can wrapped in a Ziploc bag. So as not to smudge the prints he used a pencil to remove the can from the bag and set it on the nightstand.

“Okay, you’ve done what you came to do so I can go, right?” the woman asked.

When Animal looked into her eyes he saw not one ounce of remorse for betraying her man. He had not met the woman before that day, but he hated her. Animal tapped his finger against his chin as if he was deep in thought. “It seems that we have ourselves quite a dilemma here, sis. Rico says that I’m supposed to kill everybody in here, but I ain’t no monster. Let’s make a wager, shall we?”

“A what?” the woman asked nervously.

“A wager. A bet,” Animal explained.

He ripped off two strips of the duct tape, placing one across her nose and the other across her mouth. “If you can manage to get this tape off with your hands tied then you have your life.” He laughed and left Lee and his whore for dead.

Animal waited for fifteen minutes before he placed an anonymous call to the police to report screams coming from the brownstone. By the time they got there the girl had suffocated, but Lee was still alive . . . barely. In addition to the gunshot wounds he had two broken legs and severe spinal damage. With his eyes burned out he would never be able to see again, but his mouth worked just
fine. During the ride to the hospital in the ambulance he just kept babbling incoherently, but the three words they were able to make out were
Rico
and
double cross
, which was all they needed to start putting the pieces together.

Tionna felt like she was flying first class as she reclined in the passenger seat of Gucci’s Lincoln Navigator. The truck was snow-white with blood-red seats sitting on red 24s with the chrome lips. The dashboard was lit up like Christmas, but Gucci didn’t know how to work much other than the air conditioner and CD player, though she looked damn good doing it. Animal had gotten the behemoth for her as a birthday gift, but she would only accept it if he agreed to let her take over the car note.

They coasted up Seventh Avenue, blasting an unmixed version of Animal’s LP, setting off the car alarms of almost every vehicle they passed while people looked on in envy. Chicks hated and dudes clocked the two shorties in the big ride. When they reached the light on 136th and Seventh a red Beamer pulled up beside them with the music blasting. Both the driver and the passenger were cute and rocking heavy jewels, but Gucci wasn’t moved.

“Damn, shorty, it’s like that?” the driver of the Beamer asked.

Gucci looked down at him over her shades. “It ain’t like nothing. I’m just trying to save me the headache and your people the trouble of having to visit you in the hospital.”

The passenger of the Beamer gave her an agitated look. “What,
you think we some chump ass niggaz or something?” He and his partner were getting quite a few dollars uptown and were known to bust their guns.

“No disrespect to you, fam. I’m quite sure you’re about your business but I can’t afford to take that risk. My man is a lil
extra
.”

The two men in the Beamer shared a laugh before the driver responded to Gucci’s statement. “Nigga got you scared to live, huh?”

At that Gucci chuckled. “Nah, just smart enough not to risk dying. The license plate says it all, boo. One.” Gucci peeled through the green light.

The driver was about to follow, but his partner stopped him.

“Didn’t you read the plate?” the passenger asked.

The driver looked at him like he was stupid. “Fuck does the plate have to do with that bitch styling on us just now?”

“It read
ANIMALS
,” the passenger pointed out.

The driver let it roll around in his head for a minute before the light of recognition went off in his head. “As in
The
Animal?”

“You wanna find out?” the passenger replied.

The driver thought on it for a minute. “Nah, I’m good. Let’s roll through Fourteenth and see who’s on the stoop.”

“Damn, Gucci, why you pull off so fast?” Tionna asked, craning her neck to see if the Beamer was following. Tionna had seen them around some heavy dudes so she knew they were handling, but had never been introduced. Gucci pulled off before she even had a chance to exchange numbers and she wasn’t feeling it.

“Because I love my life,” Gucci said, never taking her eyes from the road.

“Sometimes I hate the fact that you’re in a relationship. I miss having my road dawg running the streets with me,” Tionna said sadly.

“We all gotta grow up sometime, T. When you were heavy with Duhan I let you shine, right?” Gucci reminded her.

“I don’t mean it like that, G. I’d never try to hate on your happiness, but I ain’t got nobody to hang with anymore.” Tionna faked pouting.

“Stop it. You still got Tracy and Boots,” Gucci said.

Tionna’s face became serious. “Bitch, please. Boots is out here losing it fucking with them lifeless bitches from her hood and I don’t even wanna get into Tracy. I’m hearing some real funny-style shit about her.”

“Funny style like how?” Gucci inquired.

“Mommy, I didn’t know Auntie Tracy was a comedian,” little Duran said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He and Duhan had been so quiet that they’d forgotten the kids were in the car. Duran had slept through most of the conversation but Duhan was all ears. The cattish stare he was giving Tionna reminded her of the way his father used to look at her when he knew she was up to no good.

“Boy, you better learn to stay outta grown folks’ business,” Tionna warned little Duhan.

“But I didn’t even say anything,” he said.

“I don’t give a damn, you were thinking it. Don’t let me have to bust you in your little smart-ass mouth, understand?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Duhan grumbled. It seemed like the older he got the more rebellious he seemed to become. Tionna had known his father since they were kids so she knew the signs when she saw them. It was the subtle changes in her kids that really made Tionna get on her job with getting them off Fortieth.

“Tionna, you need to leave them kids alone. How you gonna trip and you’re the one talking in front of them?” Gucci said.

“She’s got a point, Mom,” Duhan added.

Tionna spun in her seat to face him. “You ain’t too big to get that ass tapped, so keep playing if you want to Duhan.”

Gucci swung a wide right on 140th and Seventh nearly clipping
a parked Buick in the process. Even three buildings away she could feel the hate bouncing off her sunglasses. She welcomed the negativity and leaned even harder in the seat. Tionna peeped her game and dipped her seat back a little farther, watching the envious stares from over the dashboard. Figuring they had punished them enough Gucci pulled the car into a vacant spot beside where the Senate had their card table set up.

“Look-a-here, look-a-here,” Cords sang as he watched Gucci and Tionna slide from the Navigator. He slicked his dried perm back while licking his lips hungrily.

Cords was wearing a browning yellow dress shirt under a worn overcoat, but you couldn’t tell Jerry “Cords” Holloway that he wasn’t the shit. At the height of his game he had a number one record on the charts and women throwing themselves at his feet on the nightly basis. Then doo-wop died and so did his star. Cords had cut a few solo records after the fact, but none lived up to the success of his group efforts. Now he was just a man living in the shadow of what he used to be.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Gucci said, grabbing Duran out of the backseat. Duhan chose to hop out on his own and took off up the block.

“Yes, it is a good afternoon and it just got better,” Cords said slyly. He was giving Gucci his best seductive look, which got him a giggle.

“Old nigga, why don’t you give it up? That girl don’t want nothing to do with your washed-up ass,” Harley ribbed him. As usual he had a Newport 100 dangling between his lips.