Family Over Everything (16 page)

When they arrived home from the movies, Shay wasted no time finishing what she'd started. She let out soft moans as Deion's long, thick tongue moved up and down her neck, chin, and ears. When they got into his bedroom, he laid her onto his bed and gently parted her legs. His tongue made love to every part of her body, causing her to shiver. When he finally reached her love canal, she tossed her head back and moaned as his tongue expertly glided in and out of her.

“Please, daddy, put it in,” she said as she arched her back.

Submitting to her command, he pulled down his Calvin Klein boxers and teased the opening of her vagina with the head of his penis. He slowly made his way inside her, twirling his hips in small circles as he held her tightly. He sexed her using long, hard strokes, and reaching deeper inside of her with each thrust until she felt it in her gut.

A couple minutes later, he felt he was about to ejaculate. Since he didn't have a condom on, he moved to pull out. Shay wrapped her long legs around his waist, preventing him from doing so.

When he exploded, she smiled.
Got him,
she thought as he collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving.

Deion shook his head in disgust when he finally caught his breath. “What the fuck was that about, Shay?”

“What you talking about, baby?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“You fucking leg-locked me! Stop acting stupid! Are you trying to trap me? What you trying to do? Get pregnant?” he yelled angrily.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Deion glared at her. Standing, he gathered her clothes and tossed them out of his room.

“Bitch, get the fuck out my fucking crib, Shay! You trifling heifer! I should've known you were nothing but a fucking skeezer!”

Stunned and at a loss for words, she quickly grabbed her clothes and stepped into them. For the whole time she'd known Deion, he'd never called her out of her name. In fact, she'd never seen him that angry.

Deciding not to add more fuel to the fire, she grabbed her Dolce & Gabbana bag and hauled ass.

Relisha's chest heaved in and out as she moved her sweated-out hair out of her face. She smiled brightly after enjoying an entire hour of sex with Jewels.

“Baby, I want to ask you something.”

“What's up?”

“You down for me, right?” he asked seriously.

“You already know, what is it?”

“I want you to help me with something. It'll put me back on top and you'll get everything you've always wanted.”

“Jewels, you're still not telling me what it is?”

Sighing, he bit his lip. “It's Deion and Day'onne.”

There was a brief pause as Relisha lay there and digested the names. Realizing it was her twin sons, she said, “So, you want me to help you set up my own kids?”

“Yeah, are you going to do it?”

Turning to face Jewels, she shook her head. “I can't, baby. Those are my kids! Why would I do that?”

“What you mean, those are your kids? When did they become your kids? That bitch, Melissa, raised them!”

Seeing the hurt in her eyes, he immediately regretted saying it. He had hit a nerve.

“Fuck that! I don't give a fuck who raised them, they're still my kids! I'm not helping you with anything!” Relisha yelled, throwing the sheets off of her naked body.

“I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean it like that. Listen to me,” Jewels said, grabbing her arm.

Sitting up in the bed, she folded her arms under her breasts and rolled her eyes. Even though she didn't know her other three kids, she still cared for them. When she'd gotten out of rehab, she wanted to search for her children and reunited with them but she didn't have the strength. In her head, it was a little too late to reunite with children that were grown already.

“You're always complaining about me not giving you anything or buying you anything, right?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well, if you help me do this, we'll be all good. I'll be back on my shit, and you'll have anything you want, Ma. That Mercedes-Benz you always wanted, closet decked out in expensive designer gear, and even a new crib,” Jewels said, throwing game at her.

She nodded and smiled at the thought of finally having everything she wanted.

“So what do you say?”

“I'm in. What do you want me to do?” she asked.

Rubbing his goatee, he said, “Day'onne will be having a grand opening for his club soon. Only major heads in the game and celebrities are invited, but I'm going to find a way for you to get up in there.”

“So where do I fall in at?”

“Would you shut the fuck up and listen, Relisha?” Relisha nodded as he continued. “When you get up in there, all I want you to do is find a way to divert the twins' and their crew's attention to you. If you have to walk up in there butt ass naked and shake your ass, that's what I want you to do.”

“Wait, hold up for a second,” Relisha fussed, shaking her head and standing to her feet. “That doesn't make sense. Where do you fall in during all of this?”

“Don't worry about that, ma. I got this; just play your part.”

“No, I want to fucking know! Where do you play in with all of this, Jewels? You asking me for a big favor and I deserve an explanation at least!”

“I said, don't worry about it. Now lay back down because it's time for round two.” Jewels smiled.

“Don't your ass need to take that Viagra?” she mumbled to herself, lying back down.

“W
ould you slow down on that shit?” Mercedes asked Corrine.

Corrine ignored her as she took a couple of pinches of cocaine from a nickel bag and placed it into the blunt. Mercedes shook her head, watching her roll the blunt like a professional.

“Why don't you shut the fuck up and let me do me? I'm grown, I know what the fuck I'm doing!” Corrine snapped.

“Yeah, Mercedes, chill; we know what we doing. We can handle ourselves,” Tessa said, taking the blunt out of Corrine's hands and taking a long pull from it.

Mercedes threw her hands up in surrender and walked into the bathroom to get dressed for her shift on the corner. After prostituting for three months, it still made her sick to her stomach. Sleeping with a new man every hour still gave her the same degrading feeling since she'd turned her first client.

She looked at herself in the mirror, noticing the bags that were forming under her young eyes. Sorrowful tears slid down her right cheek as she started to dress in her skimpy, midnight blue dress.

She put piles of silver eye shadow, mascara, and eyeliner around her eyes, to conceal her pain. Strutting out of the apartment in a pair of five-inch heels, she tried her best to walk with her head held high. She sashayed to the corner of Penfort Street to wait for her next client.

“What's up, ma? You looking good!” an old man said as he walked past her.

When an hour had passed and not one car had stopped for her, she was about to give up for the night. As soon as she started to walk off, a black-on-black BMW rode up by her, flashing his headlights twice. Putting on a fake smile and strutting to the passenger's side, she hopped into the seat and was at a loss for words as she locked eyes with the driver. His smooth, mocha skin, light, slanted eyes, and bald head instantly reminded her of Boris Kodjoe. She had to momentarily turn her head away from him so she wouldn't get lost in his piercing eyes.

Mustering up the strength to speak, she gave another fake smile. “What do you want today, daddy? Some bomb-ass head or the whole package?”

“Um . . .I never did this before. Do I take you to my place or do we do it in here?” he asked as he drove out of Northview.

“It doesn't matter.”

She remained quiet the entire ride until they arrived at his place on the outskirts of Pennsylvania. Her mouth dropped open when she saw the mansion he pulled up in front of. Never in her young sixteen years had she ever seen a house as big as the one before her.

“Do you like it?” He smiled as they walked through his front door.

“Yeah, what do you do for a living? This place is gorgeous!” Mercedes laughed.

“A couple of things, but my twin got this for me. By the way, my name is Deion,” Deion said, holding his hand out to her.

“I'm Mercedes,” she said.

She fell in love with the cream and brown décor that decorated the mansion, giving guests a warm, mellow mood as soon as they walked in. She was immediately drawn in by the beautiful classic art designs that decorated the walls.

“Wow, this is really nice. Who decorated this place?” she asked in awe.

“I did. But would you like a glass of water or something?” Deion asked, taking off his coat.

“No, I want to honestly get down to business, so I can be on my way.”

“I don't want to have sex, though.”

“Then what you come here for? Time is money, baby.” She scowled.

“I don't know, to talk? Have a good conversation? It doesn't matter to me.”

“This isn't an escort service.” She laughed, taking a seat on the brown and cream sofa.

“I know, but I'll pay you whatever you want when we're done,” Deion said, walking into the kitchen.

When he returned, he had two glasses of ice cold water in his hand. He handed one to Mercedes.

“Thank you, but what do you want to converse about? You don't know me, I don't know you, so what's up?”

“I know it may be weird for you, but I really am in need of some company. Shit, I'm desperate for it, as you can see.” He laughed.

“I guess, so, but, um, what's on your mind? You seem like a nice man; why are you with me and not your girlfriend?”

“My girlfriend turned out to be a gold-digger. Straight scandalous. I can't trust y'all females for shit,” he spat.

“What do you mean, she was scandalous? What did she do?”

“She just was, but I don't want to talk about it.”

There was a slight pause and Mercedes fumbled with her fingers and stared up at the ceiling.

“So, what about you? Why do you prostitute?” he finally asked.

“Ehh, it's the long story of my life.”

“C'mon,” Deion said, grabbing her hand. “You can tell me.”

Where do I know him from?
she thought.

“Okay, I ran away from foster home and ended up doing this.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?' ”

“There's always a way so why prostitute? I mean, I'm not trying to knock your hustle or anything, but you're too beautiful. I'm sure whatever you've been through you could've found a different way to make it. Prostituting isn't going to fix your problems.”

Bursting out into a loud, mocking laugh, Mercedes couldn't help but shake her head.

“Wow, and this is coming from someone that doesn't know me? You don't know shit, okay? Just like I don't know you, you don't know my struggles or pain, so you can't feel my hustle.”

He nodded in agreement and sat there in silence. Taking the water from off the living room table and taking a few sips from it, Mercedes got a quick glimpse of a nearby photo, causing her to spit out the water.

“Girl, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Ignoring Deion, she stood up and walked over to the photo. Picking it up, her mouth fell open and she looked from the photo to Deion.

“What is it?” Deion asked, walking up behind her.

“Who's this girl?” Mercedes asked, tears forming in her eyes.

“That's my little sister, Corrine.”

Clutching the frame in her hands, she collapsed back onto the sofa, a waterfall of tears cascading down her cheeks as she looked at Corrine who appeared no older than seven in the picture. Two young boys and an older woman were in the picture with her. At first glance, Corrine appeared to be happy but when she looked closer, Mercedes could see the great pain in her eyes.

“What's wrong? Do you know her or something?” Deion asked, confused.

“Yeah, she's like my little sister. No wonder you looked so familiar!” Mercedes cried. Gazing up at him, she squinted her eyes and wrinkled up her nose. “So you were the one who raped her?”

“No! No! That was my twin brother, Day'onne. I would have never done that to her,” he assured her. “So where is she now?”

“She's . . .prostituting . . .like me,” Mercedes said hesitantly.

Clenching his jaw and balling up his hands into tight fists, he tried to hold in his tears. Even though he hadn't seen his younger sister in years, he still couldn't picture her selling her young body.

“Um, are you ready to go? I forgot I got to handle something,” he lied, standing to his feet.

“Do you want to see Corrine?”

“Look, I said I got something to handle. Take this and find your way home,” he said, handing her five hundred dollars.

“But . . .”

“Please, go,” he said, walking her toward the door. He opened it up, pushed her outside, and slammed it in her face.