The Grind Don't Stop (27 page)

When her eyelids fluttered once, twice, and she lazily opened them wide, his heart skipped a beat. To him she looked like a beautiful butterfly spreading its wings for the first time. She smiled at him with some pearly whites and for that moment, he felt a warmth meant especially for him.

Her eyes caught sight of the take-out boxes and he could nearly feel the heat rise in her cheeks. She started giggling like a little schoolgirl before she said in a husky early morning voice. “Mmm, there is something good in you, after all, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” he replied as he lifted his chin and began rubbing the stubble on his jaws.

She looked away shyly and purred, “You probably think that I lured you way out here just for that there.”

“Just for what?”

She pursed her lips and reached over to pop him on his thigh. “You know what.”

He stepped back out of her reach for a second, before he ran a
hand over his hair and sat down beside her. “Yeah, well, it had sorta crossed my mind a few times.” He smiled.

She elbowed him playfully in the side and wiggled up into a sitting position. She looked down at her naked titties as if she had just realized that they were exposed. She folded her arms over them like she was embarrassed.

He let out a short snort. “Kinda too late for that, ain't it?”

She smiled back at him as she removed her arms. Then she took a deep breath. “Guess it is… But here is the real reason that I called.”

She reached under the bed to remove a brown grocery bag, which was folded over several times. Biting down on her lower lip, exposing a deep dimple crease in her jaw, her eyes started sparkling as she overemphasized a dainty unfolding of the bag. She looked up at him innocently and removed four tightly sealed plastic bags and a blue bank deposit bag.

The blood rushed to his temples, when the realization of the contents hit him; not because of the dope and money but what the possible repercussions could be. He knew for sure that she had played somebody out of their goodies. The issue was she had now gotten him involved. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head from side to side, before he asked her with the most serious stare he could muster. “Girl, where, how? Who in the hell did you get that shit from?”

Her smile quickly disappeared, to be replaced by a look of fearful anxiety. She croaked, “Why you acting like that? I thought you'd be at least a little happy.”

The look he gave her could've frozen hell over and she actually jumped when he shouted angrily, “Bitch, how in the hell do you figure that whoever you took this shit from ain't gonna fuck you up and whoever they think is down with you on this?” He studied
her for a while to see if it had sunk in. “Hell, like me, girl. That's why your ass was looking all geeked, up and down the balcony when you answered the door last night.”

She leaped up from the bed, nearly knocking him down, and placed her hands defiantly on her hips.

Aw-aw, here comes another snake roll. Why bitches be doing that dumb
shit?
he thought as he stumbled back. And sho nuff the roll came at him with eyes blazing fire as she hissed, “Godayum, I should've known that your sorry ass was gonna punk out on me.”

He took a step forward with his shoulders hunched menacingly and spat back at her nastily, “Stupid-ass ho, don't you know those folks will torture, then bury your...your...”

He didn't get the chance to finish, before she transformed into Xena the Warrior Princess and pushed him on the bed with her claws clasped around his neck, straddling him. With her teeth pulled back in a nasty snarl, she pulled one of the claws back for a wild swing. But before the blow could reach his face, he grabbed her by the wrist and flipped her over. He got on top of her with the quickness and pressed his face directly in front of hers. “Don't say another muthafucking word,” he shouted angrily.

The coldness of his eyes shocked her and she finally lay still. He'd certainly gotten her attention now. “Now whodafuck you stole this shit from?”

Her eyes misted over and a lump ran down her throat as she choked a reply. “I took it from some Jamaicans. Those funny-talking bastards were talking about ripping your boy Rainbow off.”

He gave her a curious frown and sat back, disregarding the expulsion of air from her mouth when he pressed his full weight on her stomach. “I thought you told Violet they didn't want the trouble that would come from behind a move like that.”

Her condescending look returned to one of defiance after she wiggled from under all his weight. He tried, but there was no way
that he could hold back from smiling. This was more like the fiery Joyce that he was accustomed to and he definitely preferred that one over a fake crybaby.

Her voice transformed back into gangsta as well, as she grabbed his collar and pulled his face closer to hers. “Sweet-ass nigga, this is what I do and I'm good at it.” She blew him a kiss and fluttered her eyes. “I saw, I played, I took, and then I called your sorry ass. Well, I actually called Violet because she's down with whatever and you, aw fuck it, I got you to come because I figured you'd be down and wouldn't give a fuck. Like you do when you scam folk.”

“Yeah, but I don't scam folk that go on the hunt with machine pistols and machetes.”

“Mmh, like those niggas you did time with in prison be joking with their homemade stickaniggas. Hell, if a bitch's game ain't tight enough to get away with it, she shouldn't be doing it. I'm a pro, nigga,” she countered.

There wasn't too much he could say, so he shook his head. “You right about that.”

“Damn right, I'm right about dat.”

He smiled down at her. “You know what?”

That conniving look glittered in her eyes as she licked her lips enticingly. “What, you don't want any of it?”

He rolled off of her and lay on the bed, then looked up at the ceiling with his hands folded under his head. After a moment, he snorted, turned his head sideways to face her. “You something, oh yeah, you really something else.”

She smiled at him. “Yep, I know.” She sat up on the bed and started bouncing up and down like a little girl playfully pushing at his shoulder. “Shit, playa, whaddafuck; let's get blitzed up in this bitch. This here be some of that super-good, pink, golden-flake shit.”

She had certainly gotten his attention then because that Peruvian
golden flake was the best coke hands down. It had him puking his guts out from smoking it. She had said enough. They got busy. About three hours later of constant blooping, they finally hit I-20 on the way back to Decatur. They had just passed the East Lake exit when he looked over at Joyce fumbling in her oversized handbag.

“Ain't no way you gonna find whatever you looking for in all that junk.” He smiled.

“Ah ha, for all you know.” She grinned as she lifted a glass shooter up and waggled it in his face.

“Girl, I know damn well you ain't about to hit none of that shit right now. No telling who was pushing wheels on this road.” He grimaced.

Joyce acted like she hadn't even heard him, as she reached under the seat and got the grocery bag. Digging inside she untapped one of the bricks of coke and stuffed the shooter. With the bag still in her lap, she lit the shooter, took a long toke and passed it to him.

“Ah what the fuck, why the hell not?” he muttered as he accepted the shooter and put it to blaze. When he handed it back to her, she absentmindedly grabbed it by the hot end.

“Oooow, muthafucka, shit!” she screamed as she snatched her hand away and dropped it in his seat. He raised up trying to swap it from under his ass, where it had rolled.

“Aaaaah, crazy-ass bitch, watch where you fucking going, man.” She screamed again and reached over to grab the steering wheel, her face full of shock. Cocked sideways in the seat, he looked at the road in time to grab the steering wheel in a death grip and sway the car from crashing into speeding cars on the side and in front of him. As he swayed halfway onto the shoulder of the road, he felt a big bump and a loud bang as the car hiccupped and started fishtailing on him. He continued to struggle with the steering wheel and pumped the brakes like a madman until they lumbered to a halt.

He sighed heavily and dropped his arms to the seat before looking over at her. She had hung her head lazily over the grocery bag she had squeezed tightly to her body and wheezed. “Damn.” That was all she could get out.

Shaking his head he grabbed the doorknob, kneed the door open and got out. Seeing that the car was tilting to her side, he circled the car. Damn, they had a flat tire. He walked to the trunk, opened it and grunted. “Damn,” he spat again when he saw there wasn't a spare. He walked back to her side to get his cell phone out of the glove compartment. “Let me see, where the fuck we at? Hmmm, my nigga Duke is the nearest. Let me holla at his fat ass,” he mumbled as he punched in his numbers. He kicked it with him through a bunch of bitching and cursing before he handed the phone back to Joyce.

S
itting in the driver's seat of his month-old Cadillac Escalade, Joker pulled out both of his Glocks from the double holsters crisscrossed on his chest. He quickly checked the rounds as he looked anxiously around the parking lot of the Red Roof Inn off Candler Road. He was wondering and hoping that his intended victims would have their guards down enough to make this job as easy as possible.

Chopper popping on that damn gum in the backseat was really starting to get on his nerves. He had closed the windows to keep it cool, and it made the popping sound even louder than usual. But was that really it, or was it the combination of fear and anxiety to go up against his own cousin Sparkle and Rainbow? They, along with Johnny Bee, had practically baby-sat him through his adolescent life of learning how to hustle and survive in the streets. Damn, what a dilemma. But his man was the reason he was driving his hot ride and living in the luxury condo out in Ben Hill. Boy, was he ever praying that they would listen to logic and reason, but deep in his heart he doubted it.

The sudden buzzing of his cell phone on his side, brought a welcome distraction to the boredom of the wait. He listened intently to the new orders he was given and clicked off with a grunt. “Aight, girlies, it's time to earn these big bucks,” he addressed Stack, Percy and Chopper. They all started shifting around nervously in their seats. He pulled out of the parking lot and thought,
Finally.

Damn, it was a welcomed sight to see Duke's car pull up behind his. “Man, you best believe you called when you did, I was headed out the door,” Duke said with a bright smile through the window as Sparkle approached.

Sparkle backhanded the sweat off of his brow and wheezed as he reached for the door handle and growled. “Well, don't just sit there on your fat ass. Get the spare, man.”

Duke's head snapped back, surprised that his boy was taking his frustrations out on him. He gave him a body-length stare as he was easing his bulk out of the car. “Damn, bro, you at least could've said thank you, muthafucka, for showing up or something,” he mumbled as he headed for the back of the car to pop the trunk. “Sorry, dog, you know I didn't really mean to come off on you like that.”

Sparkle forced a smile and pat him on the back as he followed to help. “Oh yes the hell you did; you need to get yourself some manners there, buddy boy.”

Joyce displayed a beaming smile before she turned her attention to Duke. With her elbows propped on the fender, she said, “Hey there, big dude, thanks for coming to get us out of this mess; a mess thanks to knucklehead over there.”

Sparkle pantomimed a mug of frustration and gritted. “Me knucklehead, you the one that dropped...?”

Big Duke certainly didn't have no time for their petty arguing as he interrupted them and pulled the spare out of his trunk. He looked at Sparkle as he rolled it along the pavement. “Listen to the girl. She's telling you some good, ugh, ugh, ugh,” he grunted as a barrage of bullets lifted him off of his feet and slammed him into the back of Violet's car.

Joyce let out a blood-curdling scream when she saw the blood splashing from his thighs and shoulders. “Oh my...”

Sparkle tackled her and rolled with her cradled to his body under Duke's ride, knocking the wind out of her as he did so. He looked up in time to see several arms jerking back into a shiny black SUV as it roared down the interstate and out of sight. “Stay here,” he said to Joyce as she rolled out from under the car. When he got to his knees, he looked down to see Joyce following him.

“Girl, I told...”

She cut him off with the quickness. “Fuck dat there, what, who the fuck was that? Aw, man...” She cut her own self off as she sprinted over to Duke. Sparkle immediately followed her with his eyes scanning the area for any other gunmen. Seeing none, he helped her grab Duke's arms and pull him to a sitting position up against the rear bumper. Duke was grimacing in pain from their efforts.

“Where you hit at, man? Don't worry, we can get you to Grady Hospital in a short...” Sparkle said as he stood up and made a step toward the car to get his cell phone.

But Duke halted him in his tracks. “Naw, dog.”

A bewildered Sparkle stared at him like he was losing his mind. “Naw!!” he repeated in shock.

Duke shook his head. “Naw, dog, I'll be aight and the cops will get me to the hospital. Uggggh... That ain't what's bugging me because if they had hit something vital, I wouldn't be able to talk to you right now.”

“Man, you delirious; I'm going to call Grady,” Joyce spoke over him as she stepped past Sparkle.

“No, wait a minute, girl,” Duke grunted as he grabbed his bleeding shoulder.

“What?” She looked at him like she was missing something.

“I've got a shit load of powder under my seat. Y'all have got to disappear with it before the five-o show up.” He moaned as his voice started showing signs of weakening. It was evident that he was getting weaker from the lost blood.