The Golden Hustla Page 13

  “How is that? You ain’t got a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out!”

  He jumped up off the bed and slapped her. Nina fell onto the bed and Cream pounced on her and grabbed her by her throat, again.

  “Girl, did you not hear a word I just said? Did you?” he yelled. She nodded her head yes, trying to blink the tears away. She had seen Cream lose it before, but this was scary. He was acting like her getting and keeping this job was life or death, and that had her spooked.

  “I need you to continue working until I figure out how I’m gonna get this cracker for a whole lotta cake. Do you understand me?”

  Nina nodded her head vigorously. This fool had undoubtedly lost his mind. If the red flags hadn’t gone up before, they were all the way up now and waving. And he thought he was going to use her? Bullshit.

  “You owe me, bitch. You owe me.” He let her go, got up, threw his clothes on and left.

  At that moment, she was reminded that he was a bad habit that needed to be dropped.

  It was going on eight thirty and Shawn had just parted ways with Rochelle. They had linked up at the Hilton by the airport. Shawn was thinking about how good Rochelle’s pussy was and was pleased with how much of a freak she was between the sheets. Rinaldo taught her well. Up until now he still didn’t see the attraction between the two. Nevertheless, from what he learned from her, the attraction was there in the beginning. Now it was all about what she could get from him, realizing that it was all a fantasy. Nina was right, she was no more than a hustler’s wife.

  Shawn was flying down 285 puffing on his blunt filled with chocolate. He had a DJ Kay Slay mix CD in. Damn. I miss New York. He had been in Georgia for so long that whenever he called home they teased him about how country he sounded. Shawn took another pull and turned the music up louder. Mix CDs always put him in the zone. He changed lanes and that’s when he saw the flashing lights in his rearview mirror.

  “Shit!” he yelled out, not one hundred percent sure that they wanted him to pull over. Just in case, he cracked all of the windows in an attempt to air out the car and kept driving as if they didn’t want his ass. When he was sure that they wanted him, he pulled over to the shoulder, stopped and prepared for the worst. He quickly sprayed some air freshener but knew it wasn’t going to do shit. What he had just finished smoking was the bomb. How many more blunts were in the glove compartment? Sweat beads were forming under his armpits. He turned the CD player off. The two officers finally got out and headed for his vehicle, one brother on each side. Shawn rolled the driver’s-side window down.

  “License and registration please.” The officer turned on his flashlight to scan the front seat, his other hand resting on his pistol.

  Shawn reached for his paperwork in the glove compartment. He handed the documents to the officer at his side and they headed back to the squad car. Shawn breathed a sigh of relief that neither one of the brothers said nothing about the weed because he knew that they had to smell it. He anxiously waited for the verdict, and the longer they took to run his info, the more he kept stealing glances at them from the rearview mirror. When they finally got out of the car, they walked towards him as if they were on a mission. He mumbled, “Awwww shit. What did they find on me?”

  “Mr. Williams, we need you to step out of the car, please,” the officer at his door said. The other one was standing behind him, hand on his weapon, fingers twitching.

  “What is the problem?”

  The officer ignored Shawn and waited patiently as he got out of the car. “I need you to turn around and place both hands on the hood of the car. You are under arrest.”

  “Under arrest? Arrest for what?”

  The officer jerked Shawn around and smashed him down onto the hood of the car. He patted him down before pulling his hands behind his back and placing the cuffs around them.

  “I just asked a simple question. Under arrest for what?” When neither of them responded Shawn started yelling. “Excuse me. Can someone tell me what I’m under arrest for?”

  “It looks like nonpayment of child support,” the second officer said as he snatched him up and led him to the back of the squad car.

  “Now was that so fuckin’ hard?” Shawn snapped.

  “Don’t press your luck,” the other officer warned. “We smelled the weed.”

  “I don’t owe no child support,” Shawn barked before it sunk in what he just said about the weed. He then decided to tone it down.

  “Take that up with the judge,” the arresting officer said. “We’re just doing our jobs.”

  “Ain’t that some shit,” Shawn mumbled.

  By the time Shawn was processed and booked it was one thirty in the morning. He called home and told his girl to gather up every child support payment receipt he ever had and bring them down to the courthouse. He still had to wait until morning to see a judge.

  Shawn sat up on the concrete bench all night as he tried in vain to block out the noise, funk and all the other bullshit around him. The young cats kept rapping nonstop. All he needed was a cigarette and he would be fine. He stood up, stretched and then stepped over niggas to get to the toilet to take a piss. It had to be at least six by now and if he didn’t get a cigarette soon he was going to fuck somebody up, just because. The fools in the cell with him had everything else but a cigarette. Crack. Coke. PCP. Meth.

  He went to the cell door made of steel bars and looked at the clock. He was glad to see that it was even later than he thought it was. Six fifteen. He was counting the minutes, fuck that, the seconds until he got out of this place. His attention went to the federal agents in a huddle down the hall. Them muthafuckas stood out wherever they were. One of them was puffing on a cigarette. Shawn was so desperate for that nicotine he was feeling delusional. Just as he started to yell at him, their huddle opened up and there was Cream. Nina’s people. He did a double take to make sure his eyes were’t playing tricks on him. What the fuck is he doing talking to the feds? And in a county jail at six in the morning? He’s not even cuffed. And he’s talking to them like they all cool, best buds and shit.

  When Cream happened to look in Shawn’s direction he wasn’t sure if that was him. But Shawn confirmed it. “What’s up, man?” he hollered over to Cream. “Let me get a cigarette.”

  Cream turned his back and acted as if he didn’t see or know him. Then he followed the three federalies down the hall and they were gone.

  Damn. Cream workin’ with the feds? Do Nina know? If she do, is she working with them or what? That was the question. A hundred red flags were now raised in Shawn’s mind. He had to do some strategic planning and thinking. Everybody was a pawn in his mind. To see Cream made getting locked up worthwhile. Something was up and he planned to use it to his advantage. Shawn felt as if he were walking on air as he went back to the bench. He forgot all about his jones for a cancer stick.

  Mona was at the courthouse at eight thirty with all of Shawn’s receipts. He was not called to see the judge until about noon and he was out of there by noon. He got his car out of the pound and all of his blunts were gone. Fuckin’ cops.

  After Mona gave him a hug she said, “This dude named Ock came up to me and said for you to call him as soon as you get out. He said he got a proposition for you.” Mona handed him a piece of paper folded with a number on it.

  Just as he suspected, Cream was on some bullshit and now the nigga knew he was busted. He probably never figured that someone close to his girl would catch him talking to the feds. He looked at the number and said, “I’m sure he does. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

  Shawn met up with Cream at Ruby Tuesday around five thirty. They were seated at the bar eating hot wings and knocking down shots of Remy. Cream stared out across the bar, then pitched his spiel. Shawn listened to everything he had to say… his so-called proposition. Once he was finished Cream got up and left, simple as that. Leaving Shawn with a heavy decision to make.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE HOOKUP

  All during the
week Nina could not stop thinking and fantasizing about the sexy and cocky brother with the dreads. He lifted her spirits every time she thought about him. But then immediately her spirits would take a dive at the possibility of her not seeing him again.

  When Friday finally came around Rochelle was sitting in front of Nina’s house looking in the mirror on her visor, freshening her lipstick and fingering her hair. Her thick jet-black curls hung loosely all over her head. When she looked up Nina was sashaying down her steps heading towards her car.

  When Nina got to the curb all she could do was stop and say, “Dayuum.”

  Rochelle did her one better. She pressed a button and the passenger door raised up. “What you know about that?” Rochelle teased her.

  “I can’t even front. I don’t know shit about this. The fuckin’ Bentley? Rinaldo must be feelin’ real guilty to let you drive his baby.” Nina was honestly in shock.

  “Yup, the Bentley. I told you to stack your dough because that is what he’s doing. Y’all making him rich. Don’t let the toys fool you.”

  Nina jumped in and the door slid back down. “We ridin’ in style tonight! I need this because I swear I just had the week from hell.”

  When they pulled up to the Velvet Room they decided to take advantage of valet parking. Hell, after all, they were driving a Bentley. Plus, everybody would undoubtedly know that they were definitely on VIP status. When they stepped out of the Bentley, they took a moment to look each other over to give each other the good ole sign of diva approval.

  “Shit tight, right?” Rochelle asked with conceit, knowing damn well that they were looking hotter than they were last Friday.

  Rochelle was decked out in Proenza Schouler and Nina in Marc Jacobs. They were working it and whatever the it was it worked. Because when they approached the entrance, they were ushered right past the long line and led into the club to the VIP area called the Velvet Section. There were a few celebs sitting around chillin’. Even though it was only around ten thirty the club was packed. It was ladies’ night and they were undoubtedly in the house. The fellas had to be on cloud nine there were so many different flavors to choose from. The waitress brought over the first set of drinks for Nina and Rochelle compliments of Big Boi from OutKast. The ladies raised their glasses to him in appreciation while trying not to be starstruck.

  After the first two drinks, Rochelle was ready to get her party on. Nina sat there constantly scanning the room for Mr. King, disappointed that she hadn’t spotted him yet.

  “You seem preoccupied tonight. What’s the matter?” Rochelle asked her.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Good.” Rochelle jumped up and damn near snatched Nina out of the booth. “C’mon, let’s get our dance on. That will keep you occupied. Let your hair down.”

  “My hair is down. Haven’t you noticed?” Nina joked and Rochelle laughed.

  “Stop talking shit and get your ass up!”

  Nina slowly got up and went with the flow. They both hit the dance floor, joining a group of ladies dancing with each other. After about a half hour Nina stopped dancing, went back to the booth and sat down. If she was to be out on the dance floor, she wanted to be dancing with or for him. Her mystery man.

  She ordered a White Russian and went back to scanning the club, refusing to accept the possiblity that she may not ever see him… again. Her gaze landed on Rochelle, who was tipsy as hell but obviously enjoying herself. She was dancing all wild, acting as if she hadn’t been let loose in years. Nina smiled as she went back to sipping on her drink, while wishing she had a joint to go with it. She couldn’t believe she was tripping over some nigga she didn’t even know, but it was something about him and she could not shake it. Just then Rochelle fell into the booth, damn near crushing her.

  “Girl, why are you acting so bougie tonight? What’s up?” Rochelle was all in her face.

  “Bitch, please. Move over. As a matter of fact, go sit over on your side.”

  Rochelle started laughing and moved to the seat across from Nina. “Damn, I just want you to lighten up. I invited you out to have a good time. This VIP shit got you twisted. You sittin’ over there, pinkie out, sippin’ on your little drink, nose all up in the air. Miss Boujwa!”

  “Boujwa? There is no such word.”

  “Well shit, it is now.”

  They both started laughing. “Rochelle, stay your drunken ass right over there. Ain’t nobody trying to act bougie. I’m trying to enjoy my high. There’s a time and a place to be wild.”

  “Be wild? Bitch, from what I see you ain’t got no wild side.” Rochelle cracked on Nina.

  “If you only knew,” Nina mumbled.

  “Sheeit. Oh, I know. But in case I don’t, put your money where your mouth is,” Rochelle challenged.

  “What’s your offer?” Nina sat up, eyebrow raised.

  Rochelle recognized that look and knew that she had her. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Loosen your tight ass up.”

  “C’mon, bitch. Make me an offer.”

  “All right, all right.” Rochelle thought about it for a minute. “Okay. I got it. I bet you won’t go up to one of these dudes and grab their dick, and not a quick grab either. You know, the ten-second rule.” Rochelle leaned back and stared at Nina, waiting for her response.

  “Don’t threaten me with a good time. How much? And I see someone right there.”

  “Five hundred and, oh no, Miss Thing, I get to pick him.” Rochelle scanned the room with her arm outstretched and finger pointing. “Let me seeeeeee,” she sang. “You thought this shit was gonna be easy. Didn’t you? How aboouuuut him. Him right there.”

  When Nina looked up Rochelle was pointing right at Mr. King. Her eyes almost popped out of her head and her stomach took a dive to her feet. It’s him. Oh my God. He’s here. He’s here. Oh shit. What are the fuckin’ odds of this?

  “Don’t get scared now. You was staring me down and all brave and shit a minute ago. What? You thought I was going to pick some little square muthafucka? Or a celebrity? Nah, that would have been too easy. But I hooked you up. He looks like he might be your type. Hurry up. Get a move on. And while you’re at it, bring me back the same thing you’re drinking. If you get him to buy it, I’ll throw in another hundred. But shit, you better hurry up before I keep my money and go get me handful of that dick myself.” Rochelle had to smile at that, even though she was serious as a heart attack.

  Nina looked at her as if to say, “Bitch, I’ll break your arm,” before sliding out of the booth. But not before picking up her drink and turning it all the way up.

  “C’mon now, we ain’t got all night,” Rochelle pressed.

  “Bitch, I’m going.” Nina stood up, adjusted her dress and boldly started walking in King’s direction. What are the fuckin’ odds?

  “Yeah! Yeah!” Rochelle shouted in the background, hyping her up even more. “Nina! Nina!” she chanted.

  Nina was taking small steps as she kept her eyes glued directly on him. Her intense gaze snagged his attention and she sped up her strut. He looked as if he saw a ghost and now she was about to panic. But luckily the rest of the White Russian kicked in and it heated her up from head to toe. When she got up close to him he was still looking into her eyes. Nina gave him a sexy grin before reaching down and rubbing his dick… nice and slow.

  “You better be careful. I don’t have him on a leash tonight,” he whispered into her ear, causing her to blush. The exchange was electrifying.

  She acted as if she didn’t hear him and as if she didn’t just feel him up, and moved around him and headed for the bar. She stood in line trembling, not believeing what she had just done, as she ordered Rochelle’s White Russian.

  King came up behind her and pressed his semi-hard dick on her ass. Nina jumped. He put his mouth to her ear and said, “Don’t get scared now. I thought you wanted to meet lil’ King.”

  Shit. Ain’t nothing little about him. She amused herself as she then felt his warm hand on her thigh. She stood froze
n in place. Scared to move.

  “Now it’s my turn.” He skillfully slid his hand up her thigh between her legs and past her thong. His fingers roamed her neatly shaved pussy and began massaging her clit. Nina’s heart rate rose to the ceiling as she gave in to what she hoped was going to be a finger fuck.

  “Do you make it a habit of going around waking people out of their sleep? What am I supposed to tell lil’ King now that you done woke him up?” His mouth was pressed to her ear as he continued massaging her clit, getting her hotter and wetter. “You feel him? Let me introduce him to you now that he’s fully awake.” Then he adjusted her waist so he would be positioned right between her ass checks. And continued to assault her clit.

  The shit was feeling so good, Nina had to open her legs a little wider. She was giving him all the room he needed to get her off. Her nipples began to protrude as his fingers were moving faster and faster over her clit. She knew that she was on the verge of getting one off, standing right there at the bar. All of her body weight was leaning back on him and her pussy began twitching and jumping. She was no longer in control as she closed her eyes, not caring who saw her or that there was cum oozing down her thighs. Nina let out a soft moan. King looked up and saw the bartender staring at them and holding Nina’s drink in his hand. He was apparently impressed by what was going on with the couple standing right there in front of him.

  “I got her drink,” King said to the bartender. He wasn’t letting her go. As he watched her face in the mirror behind the bar all he could think was what just happened was magical. “You didn’t answer me. What do you want to tell him?”

  “Tell him to excuse my hands.” She leaned forward and grabbed Rochelle’s drink and took a sip. She made an attempt to pull away but he wouldn’t let her go and she didn’t really want him to. What she wanted was for him to lean her over, spread her thighs and put lil’ King deep inside of her. “You can move your hand now and thanks for the finger fuck.”

  “Anytime. Can I get a name?” He slid his hand from between her legs but kept it rested on her thigh. His big dick was still pressed to her ass.