Payback With Ya Life (12 page)

“Why you acting like I’m leading you to jump off a cliff or something?” Peanut chuckled as he stuck the card key into the slot. When the door popped open he led the way and closed it after stepping inside.

“Awwww, Peanut.” She covered her mouth. The room was decorated with red-and-white balloons and red-and-white rose petals. The table was lit by candles and the waiter, who was already inside, pulled Peanut to the side, whispered something in his ear and then left.

“You had this all planned out? What if I would have said take me home?”

“It would have been your loss. Go freshen up or whatever you need to do. He’ll be back with dinner.”

She was already off and inspecting the suite, no longer nervous or feeling guilty. When she finally made it back into the dining area Peanut was tipping a different waiter and was holding a bouquet of red-and-white roses. The entire setup had her feeling special . . . and very sexy.

After Peanut saw the waiter out, she walked over to him, got on her tippy-toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek and then on the lips. “Thank you, Peanut. Thank you for taking my mind off of . . . everything.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” He handed her the roses, and she kissed him again. “Let’s eat, I’m hungry as hell.”

“What do we have?” She was eyeing the beautiful table spread. He held out the chair for her to sit down. Then he lifted the silver lid. A huge grin spread across her face. “Slick. Real slick! That’s why you had Danita ask me all of those questions about if I had my choice of a dream meal for right now.”

“How else could I have planned your perfect dinner? You wanted filet mignon; you got filet mignon. Here is your Caesar salad with cherry tomatoes and artichokes.” He frowned. “And here is your steamed glazed carrots, baked potato and sesame rolls.”

“Don’t hate, Peanut. This
is
my meal, remember? Where is my fruit tart? And the extra sour cream for my twice-baked potato?” She lifted another lid. Another smile crept over her face. “Nigga, you got mad cool points from this sista.”

“Enjoy, Nyla.”

After the meal and the downing of a whole bottle of Krüg they found themselves in the Jacuzzi splashing and taking turns dunking each other under the water. Peanut had just let Nyla up for air and she was coughing and laughing at the same time.

“Okay, okay. You win!” She scooted back and leaned her head back. “I’m dizzy, boy.” He was standing over her, ready to dunk her again. “Peanut, stop.”

“Who tha man?” He reached down and grabbed her foot.

“I told you! Seriously. Stop playing. You tha man.” When he let her foot go she waited for him to sit down and then grabbed him around his neck and pulled him down. He grabbed her head and pulled her down with him. They both went under. Water was all over the floor as if they were having a pool party.

Their heads bobbed up at the same time, splashing more water on the floor, and both of them were laughing. Nyla jumped out, ran to the toilet and began hurling. Peanut laughed even harder.

“You’re drunk, girl. You told me you didn’t get drunk and you knew how to hold your liquor.”

“I’m . . . dizzy, not drunk.”

“You’re drunk.” He stepped out of the Jacuzzi, wet a washcloth with cold water and handed it to her.

She slowly stood up and started giggling. “It . . . hurts . . . to . . . laugh.” She wiped her mouth and then leaned over and hurled again.

“You need to lay your drunken ass down.” This time he took another damp cloth and wiped her face. “That shit was fun, wasn’t it?”

She nodded yes as he dabbed her face as if she were a little kid. He then wrapped a towel around her. She had on her bra and panties. He still had on his boxers.

“Lay down. And I’ll see about getting us some dry shit.”

She tore off the towel and came out of the wet bra and panties as Peanut stood there watching her and licking his lips. She grabbed one of the hotel robes. “Wake me in an hour.”

That’s the last thing Nyla remembered as she opened one eye and then the other, realizing where she was. She sat straight up and looked over at Peanut, who was knocked out. Her heartbeat sped up as she slowly turned to look at the clock. It read 8:57 a.m.

“Oh. My. God,” she gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.

“Yo, Watkins,” Forever greeted the officer. “Can you call the visiting room and see if I have a visit? It’s almost ten and you know my wife is always one of the first ones here.”

Watkins picked up the phone and dialed. Forever stood impatiently, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“This is Watkins. Yeah, uh, does Forever Thompson have a visitor?” Watkins twirled a pen in the air as he listened to the visiting officer on the other end. “Uh-huh, uh-huh. Not yet, Thompson.” He kicked back in his chair and engaged in a private conversation. “You don’t say?”

Forever cursed under his breath and stepped away . . . angry. “I know this bitch didn’t front on me like this!”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

W
ho is it?” Keke, Peanut’s ex, yelled out from behind the door.

“Peanut.”

Keke stood there. She glanced at the clock, it was 1:45.
Why didn’t I leave at one as I planned?
Then she looked over at the calendar. Peanut had been home for a month; at least that’s what she heard. And now he decided to stop by. Just like him to try and make her sweat.

“Open the muthafuckin’ door, Keke!” he snapped.

He finally heard her unlock the dead bolt and turn the lock. Keke slowly pulled the door open and stood there looking Peanut up and down. He had on a LRG hoody and a pair of Sean John jeans and was rockin’ some Adidas Top Tens. She looked past him to see what he was driving but was damn near knocked over as he brushed past her.

“Come in, have a seat.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

He reached back and snatched her up by her throat. “Bitch, you got me fucked up! You don’t wanna push me over the edge!” Spittle was flying out of his mouth as her eyes were getting watery. “Or do you?” He squeezed tighter. Her face began to change colors. He tossed her back onto the couch, where she lay gasping for air. He calmly sat down across from her. He went into his back pocket, pulled out some weed and a pack of Backwoods and started rolling up. When Keke went to get up, he barked, “Sit your ass down and stay the fuck down!”

“Why I—”

“And shut the fuck up!”

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. But at the same time she was trembling. Even though he hadn’t come home when he first got out, she had known she wasn’t in the clear. She had known she was eventually going to get a visit. Hell, the house was just as much his as it was hers. And he still had a lot of shit there, even though she had packed it away.

Her gaze followed him as he went into the kitchen and came back with two Coronas. He sat back down, fired up his blunt, and started taking swigs out of the bottle. He sat there and just looked in her eyes as he got high. For twenty minutes the only sounds were of him puffing on his weed and guzzling down the Coronas.

Damn
.
This nigga gonna hold me hostage or what?

“I thought you were smarter than that, Keke.” Peanut finally decided to break the silence.

“Who you talkin’ to, nigga? I’m about as smart as yo’ dumb ass. I ain’t the one who was getting fuck—”

Before she could finish her sentence Peanut was up and across the room and had slapped her clean off the couch. Then he kicked her in the stomach. “Bitch, you must have forgot!” He glared at her. “But check it. Your name on my tongue tastes like shit. Fuck being loyal. What, it’s been four years we been down for each other?” He answered his own question, “Yeah. And I’ve been nothing but good to you. I was only gone for a minute and you turned on me with the quickness. I thought your ass had some brains and a little bit of loyalty.”

She lay there as Peanut went upstairs. She looked at the phone, wondering who she should call, if she should lay there or make a fast getaway.

“Don’t move, Keke,” he yelled down the steps as if he heard what she was thinking.

Well that answers that question
, she said to herself.
I hope he hurries the fuck up
. She was now getting mad.
Shit. Yeah I left. So the fuck what? Niggas go to jail and get left all the time. Nigga actin’ like he’s been locked up for ten years. Shit, the nigga ain’t do a day over sixty. So now he’s mad and kicks me in my fuckin’ stomach. I’ma get his bitch ass back.

“Yo, Ke.” Peanut smirked as he came down the stairs. “I’m glad I came by. You know why? Now I gotta change of heart. Since you had niggas all up in and out of my shit, I said fuck it. She can keep this shit. I’ma boss. I was just gonna burn the muthafucka down to the ground. But since you got my shit all packed the fuck up you know what? I changed my mind.
You
gonna get the fuck out!” Keke’s mouth opened in shock. She was getting ready to plead her case but he stopped her. “If you want to keep all thirty-twos in your mouth, I suggest you close that bitch. I don’t give a fuck where you go but by tomorrow this time all of your shit needs to be gone. Are we clear?”

She wouldn’t answer.

“Keke, do we have an understanding?”

“Peanut, you can’t expect me to be up and out of here tomorrow. I don’t even have anywhere to go,” she pleaded.

“That’s not my problem. I’m sure you got at least one nigga or bitch willing to put up with your funky ass.” He headed for the door.

“Can’t you give me until the weekend, Peanut, damn! It’s not like you don’t have a place to go.” She was now up and on the porch with him.

“Yeah. That’s the problem. I’m holed up in some got-damned apartment while you all up in my house, trickin’ my money away.” He stepped off the porch.

“You’re in an apartment because you want to be. You got enough bread to have a house.”

“Just be outta here by tomorrow night, bitch.”

“Peanut, I—”

“I ain’t got shit else to say. Instead of following behind me, you need to be in there packin’ ya shit.”

Just then a navy blue Chevy Impala screeched to a halt. When Peanut saw the window ease down and tip of the Glock pointed at them he yelled, “Ke, get the fuck down!”
Splat! Splat!
The shots rang out. Peanut pulled out his heater.

“Take that to the bank, ho-ass nigga!” The unfamiliar voice rang out and the Impala’s engine roared as it took off down the street. The neighbors were already pouring out of their houses.

“Ke,” he mumbled as he went over to her. “Keke.” That’s when he saw it . . . her face. It was covered in blood. Her forehead sported a gaping hole and her eyes were staring at him. “Ke . . . damn . . . son of a bitch!” he spat as he listened to sirens in the distance.

Forever was ironing his prison fit, getting ready for his visit, when Zeke walked past. “You just gettin’ off yo’ good government job?” Forever teased him.

Zeke nodded and stepped into the laundry room and leaned up against one of the dryers. “You ironing yo’ good government gear?” Zeke teased back.

“Hell yeah,” Forever responded without shame.

“So Nyla finally comin’?”

“Supposed to be. I haven’t spoken to the bitch, she won’t answer the phone but had the nerve to leave a message with her sister.”

“That’s fucked up,” Zeke stated matter-of-factly. “Let me know how shit turned out. Wake me up when you get off the visit. I’m tired as hell.”

“I don’t know why you working like a Hebrew slave. You don’t need the loot from what I’m hearing. They say you that nigga to see, and the one who cats tryna be.” Forever smirked.

Zeke took that comment in stride. “Hey, a nigga gots ta eat.”

“So what you sayin’, man? You wasn’t eatin’ when we was gettin’ money together? You
was
family, nigga, and I treated you like family. I always had your back,” Forever told him.

“
Was
family?”

“Yeah,
was.
You cut the fuck off. Family don’t go behind family’s back. You couldn’t man the fuck up and step to me? You had to act like a bitch and go behind my back? I heard about your visit with my brother. I’m waiting and waiting, thinking you was going to get at me.” Forever laughed. “But that never happened. You pulled a punk-ass move nigga. Just tell me why, man? You been on some ole funny-type shit.”

An older white man with huge black-rimmed glasses came in carrying a bag of laundry. “Get the fuck outta here, we talking!” Zeke yelled. The guy backed out quietly.

“Nigga, go ’head with that weak-ass bullshit,” Forever spat.

“Man, fuck you.” Zeke ranted, “You the muthafucka that’s weak. Allowing your woman to turn you into a snitch.”

Forever smirked. “Snitch? I know yo’ punk ass snitched on me! But you don’t know what the fuck I did. All I know is I made you, nigga. All you was doin’ was ridin’ my coattail. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have shit. You wouldn’t be shit. All I got to do is say the word and you’ll be back to being a runner for one of these small-time, petty-ass knuckleheads.”

“Never that, Cousin. So don’t get it twisted. This is a new day.” And quickly Zeke left out.

Forever unplugged the iron and remembered that he had clothes in the dryer. He began folding them up and thinking about how shit goes down in the joint, and then his mind went to how fast Zeke had left out.

“Forever.” Fat Louie stuck his head in the door. He was out of breath and sweating. “I was looking all over for you.”

“What’s up, maine?” Forever didn’t even bother to look up as he continued to press his pants.

“Fool, why you chillin’ like it’s nothing? Zeke and ’em on their way up here. Y’all got serious beef or sumthin’? ’Cause word is, he strapped up. I told Tops and them to be ready, but shit, Z is on his way.”

“Fuck!” Forever spat. “I ain’t got nuttin’ on me.”

“Hold up, I’ll be right back! I got you.”

“Nigga, I’ll be dead by the time you get your fat ass back!”

Fat Louie had already disappeared.

Aws hell to the naw
. He went back and plugged in the iron. It sounded as if Zeke was in the hall. He grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants out of the dryer, turned the iron up high and went to press the pants.

Not two minutes later and just as he was expecting, Zeke came to the door. “Ever, come here, man, let me holla at you.”

“Nigga, you come to me. Ain’t nobody else in here.” Forever gripped the iron firmly, still ironing but not taking his eyes off Zeke.

“Cool.” Zeke closed the door behind him, and when he got up on Forever he went for his shank. Forever swung the iron, slapping Zeke across the jaw.

“Fuck!” Zeke gritted as the hot iron ate his flesh.

Zeke went for Forever’s throat with the shank, but Forever ducked and it landed on the back of his shoulder. Zeke dug it deeper, twisted it and Forever yelled, “Aw damn. Make sure you kill me.”

The door flew open. “Yo, the po-po,” one of Zeke’s runners said. Zeke smoothly tossed him the shank. He caught it, and then Zeke felt the iron hit the back of his head.

The next day Zeke and Forever were still in the hole. Zeke’s head was bandaged and he had second-degree burns on the back of his head and neck. Forever’s shoulder was bandaged up and he had forty-two stitches.

“Thompson.” The officer kicked the bars. “You have a visit. I’ll be back in ten.”

Forever’s eyes popped open as he looked up at the ceiling. “Now the bitch decides to show up,” he mumbled as he slowly sat up and swung his feet to the floor. He was pissed that his right shoulder was fucked up. Luckily for him the guard came back twenty minutes later. That’s how long it took him to get his self together, working with his left hand.

Nyla was watching Tameerah play with the baby sitting across from them. She was playing peekaboo and the baby wouldn’t stop laughing.

The inmate visitors’ door opened and the men filed out. Nyla’s eyes got big as saucers and her mouth twisted into a frown at the sight of Forever bandaged up and in an orange jumpsuit.
This nigga is back in the hole
.

“Tameerah, here comes your father.”

Tameerah looked around, spotted Forever and took off running. “Daddy! Daddy! I was playing with the baby. I want a baby. Can I have a little baby?”

He swooped her up, forgetting about his stitches, and grimaced as the pain traveled throughout the shoulder and down his arm. “I miss you, girl.” He kissed her cheek. “Daddy loves you.”

“I love you too, Daddy. You hurt yourself?”

“Yeah, baby, I did. But since you’re here I feel much better.”

“Good.” She hugged him around his neck. “Can I have a baby?”

“What?”

“Can I have a baby?”

“You have to ask your mother that.”

“Mommy, can I have a baby?” Tameerah peeked over at her mother.

“After you finish all of your schooling, and you’re a big girl, yeah.”

“Aww man, how big?” She pouted.

“Bigger than me.”

Tameerah squirmed her way down from Forever’s arms. “Daddy, you want some yogurt ice cream? I got money to buy you one!”

“Do you?”

“Um-hmm. Don’t I, Mommy?” Nyla handed Tameerah her own little clear plastic purse that was full of coins. “C’mon, Daddy.” She pulled Forever’s hand, and they went over to the vending machines.

Nyla’s hands were beginning to sweat. She was anxious to get their confrontation over and done with. Even though she wasn’t sure what she wanted the outcome to be.

“Daddy, can I sit by the baby and eat my yogurt ice cream?”

“As long as you don’t try to feed the baby you can.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” She puckered up her lips and Forever kissed her. He watched her take her yogurt, spoon and napkin and sit next to the baby.

After she got situated he turned his attention to Nyla. He looked her over. Looking to see what was different about her. Her hair was still fly, just the way he liked it.
What other nigga is likin’ it more than I am?
She had on a pair of Parasuco hip-hugging jeans.
Who’s grabbing on to those hips?
The crisp white blouse was caressing her breasts.
Damn, what nigga is running his tongue over her nipples?
And the pair of black stilettos she wore said, “Come fuck me.”
Why the fuck am I torturing myself like this? I ain’t seen a nigga that could hold on to a bitch while he’s doin’ a dime
. Finally he noticed that she didn’t have on her usual perfume . . . his favorite.