Honor Thy Thug Read online

  “It’s Kyron.”

  I stopped the bitch right in her tracks. Opened the bathroom door all the way, naked and all. “Kyron? Trina, get the fuck outta here with that bullshit. I can’t believe you.” I snatched up a towel, wrapped it around me, and started pushing her out of my bedroom. I couldn’t believe she was bringing me this bullshit. I wanted her out of my house. “Get out, Trina!”

  “Tasha, no, listen to me. He threatened me. He said if I didn’t set up something with you, it would be my ass. And when I didn’t, he went to Kevin and cut his ear off. He—”

  “He did what?” I shrieked as I stopped pushing her.

  “He cut his ear off. He did it with me right there on the phone. I don’t think Kevin knows why. And I wasn’t planning on telling him!” Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “This shit is crazy. This has to stop.” I began pacing back and forth.

  “Make it stop, Tasha,” she said with sarcasm dripping from her voice.

  “How can I make it stop? I’m not fucking with Kyron like that no more. You must be crazy!”

  “What if he comes after you? Or Kevin again? He’s your brother, too, Tasha. Or even worse . . .”

  “Or even worse what?” I stopped my pacing. “Trina, this is mostly your fault—”

  “My fault? Was it my fault when you fucked him?” She pointed at me. “I’ll take half of the blame. But not all of it. But now we have a crisis, and we gotta do something.”

  “Do what? You know my situation.”

  “Do something. Shit, I don’t know.”

  I went back to pacing back and forth. Kyron wanted to see me? I was scared to even mention his name to Trae. But I knew for a fact that I wasn’t meeting him under any circumstances, not in this lifetime. And our baby brother—this was outrageous. “You gotta stall him somehow until I can figure something out.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “Bitch, I don’t know. Think of something. Tell him you spoke to me and that I said I would get back to him. Shit, make up something. In the meantime, I gotta call Kev.”

  “Nooooo! Tasha, don’t! We can’t let him know we had anything to do with it. He doesn’t know Kyron and don’t know that we know him.”

  “Bitch, you sounding real stupid.”

  “I’m serious, Tasha.”

  I thought about what my sister said, and it just reconfirmed how cold-hearted of a bitch she was. Here it was, our own flesh and blood; all three of us came from the same loins. Our brother was cut the fuck up and over some of our deeds, and she was talking about don’t call him.

  “Trina, I got to figure this out. This is too much for me to swallow right now. Let me think about it, and I will call you later.” I had to tell Trae about this.

  “Don’t call Kevin, Tasha. And call me. Don’t leave me hanging. All right, Tasha?”

  “All right, Trina!” I snapped, agitated that she had brought me this Kyron bullshit. Why didn’t that muthafucka die? And now he was using my brother and Trina to fuck with me. I needed to get her and her negative energy away from me. “Come on, let me get you out of here.” I tossed the towel and grabbed my robe and pulled it tight. I cracked the bedroom door to make sure the coast was clear. I peeked out and motioned for her to come on. As I began to creep down the second-floor stairs, Kyra turned the corner and dashed up the steps. I almost shit on myself. “Kyra, you scared the devil out of me. Where’s Trae?”

  “Why are you whispering? And Trina? Is that Trina? Get out of here! Praise God!” she squealed.

  “Kyra!” Trina dashed back up the stairs as if she was running from a ghost. That shit was so comical, I wish I had of caught it on camera.

  “What is her problem?” Kyra asked me.

  “She thought you was gone just like the rest of us. No offense. Trina, get your ass down here!” I called out. She peeked over the bannister.

  “What the . . . where—”

  “Girl, it’s me and I wish y’all would stop with the dead bullshit.”

  “Kyra, look at you. Dreads? Your skin is so smooth. Where have you been?” Trina came dashing down the stairs, damn near knocking me over to go hug Kyra. “Tasha didn’t even tell me you were home. You had us worried half to death. Where were you?”

  “Trina, you need to be going. Going now.” I grabbed her arm and damn near yanked it out of its socket.

  “No, don’t go. We are getting ready to go out to eat. Me, your sister, Angel, and Jaz. Come with us.” Kyra extended a dinner invitation to my sister. I wasn’t trying to hear it, though.

  Trina lit up; then, just as quickly, her face turned into a frown. I was sure that she was thinking about how Angel and Jaz both wanted to kick her ass. “Not this time. I already have a previous engagement. But let me take you to breakfast.”

  “That’ll work,” Kyra said. “Don’t stand me up, girl, and have me getting up all early for you, Trina. We gotta catch up.”

  “I’m looking forward to it, Kyra.” Trina hugged Kyra again and then flew down the stairs and out the front door.

  I rushed up the stairs, took a quick shower, and got dressed. I had decided to wear a blue Alexander McQueen pant suit with a pair of cream Giuseppe heels. Angel was wearing an Anna Sui brown chiffon dress and gold Louboutin stilettos and Jaz had on a pair of Givenchy jeans with a red Dolce and Gabbana blouse and red strappy heels. We all looked at what Kyra had on, looked at each other and now words needed to be spoken.

  Kyra glared at us, snapped her neck and asked, “Why y’all lookin’ at me? Y’all know I ain’t got no clothes.”

  “Don’t even worry about it, I got you.” I told her. “I’ma call my girl Detroit Keish at Boutique Bleu on S. La Brea and tell her I’m coming through. I’ma give her your sizes and she’ll have shit laid out for you as if you are royalty. We get in, get out. Now let’s bounce.”

  When I got downstairs, Trae was kicked back on the couch with his eyes closed. I kissed him lightly on the lips and grabbed my girls, and we were on our way out the door.

  “Don’t make me come and get you,” he yelled after me.

  “Stop being so mean, Trae,” Angel snapped at him before I could. “She’s with her girls.”

  “Don’t let me find out y’all doing more than eating.”

  “And if you do?” Angel challenged.

  “Me and Kay going back to our old ways.”

  “Whatever!” We all laughed. We were already celebrating so I pulled out the Maybach. Y’all must have forgot who the fuck I was.

  My girl Keish blessed Kyra with a slick Armani khaki mini skirt with a black Armani jacket, a pair of black and brown Fendi ankle boots. We were now ready to roll.

  “Wait until Rick sees your ass in that.” Jaz teased her.

  • • •

  We had reservations at the Geisha House on the Boulevard in L.A. Kyra and Angel wanted sushi. The waiter had just cleared the table of our dinner and poured us our third round of sake. We laughed and reminisced for what felt like hours. Everyone had their glass filled to the rim at least twice, except for Kyra; she didn’t want anything to drink. She was listening intently as Jaz told her about Faheem, Oni, and his son. Then she started crying and praying. Everybody was, like, what the fuck? She quickly recovered and began asking more questions. But it was too late; she had changed up the whole atmosphere.

  Since Angel didn’t have any major drama of her own, she happily told Kyra all about mine. My drama didn’t cause her to cry, but from the change in complexion of her skin, I thought she went into shock. And Angel thought that shit was so funny, she couldn’t stop laughing, and I wanted to bust her in the mouth.

  However, I was dying to know what Miss Holier-Than-Thou Kyra was going to do about Rick. Because Rick had a woman and a baby on the way, so I decided to ask her. Hell, I knew I wasn’t the only one at the table who wanted the scoop. So I decided to go all in.

  “Enough about us, Kyra. What are you going to do about Rick?” Her eyes got as big as saucers. “C’mon, Kyra. You do
n’t gotta front on us. Hell, we know you. We’re your girls. So what’s up? Just because you were gone for forever, I hope you remember that we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

  She buried her face in the palms of her hands. We were all sitting on the edges of our seats. “I don’t know. I don’t know. God, I don’t know.”

  “You sure you don’t want any of this wine?” Jaz asked her.

  Kyra waved her hand back and forth. “I need a blunt right about now, not some soft-ass rice wine.” We all gave her the side eye.

  “Sooooo . . . what’s up? He has a fiancée who is pregnant. They live together as a happy family.” I pressed.

  “I know, Tasha. You don’t have to remind me. We talked, and he’s just as conflicted as I am. But, for real, I think he’s leaning toward staying with her.”

  “I can’t tell. Why isn’t he gone, then? He’s still here with you,” I said. “That sounds like some bullshit to me.”

  “Do you want him?” Angel asked her.

  “Y’all know I do,” Kyra admitted. “Shit is just complicated.”

  “Have y’all fucked?” Jaz whispered, as if any of us wasn’t fucking.

  “No. No, we haven’t. Our situation is so . . . delicate. I don’t know.”

  “Have you told him what you want?” Angel asked.

  “No, but I plan on it. Believe me, I plan on it.”

  RICK

  Trae and I were sitting on the porch when the ladies pulled up. My palms got sweaty, and my throat got dry, because I had made up my mind to tell Kyra that I was leaving tonight. I was going back to Nina. Was it the right thing to do? I couldn’t answer that. Was it the easiest thing to do? I couldn’t answer that, either.

  Trae got up and went to meet Tasha. When she got out of the car, he picked her up and swung her around. She squealed in delight and begged him to put her down. He had the relationship that niggas envied. Through the ups and downs, their shit was bulletproof. I still couldn’t believe the drama he had with the Chinese chick and that other nigga Kyron. I had years on the force and thought I had seen it all. But he proved me wrong. He admitted that his relationship with Tasha was rocky, but he was determined to smooth it out by any means necessary. And I knew he meant that shit.

  Kyra came up onto the porch and sat next to me. I waited until everyone went inside before I spoke. I cleared my throat. “Kyra, I’m going back tonight.”

  “Why?” she asked me. “Why do you have to go back? I need you. I need you here with me, Rick.”

  “Kyra, you’re in good hands. I’m at ease now, knowing that you are safe and pretty much settled in.”

  “Rick, you know damn well what I mean. I want you here with me. I don’t want you to go back.”

  “Kyra, you know my situation. What do you want me to do?”

  “Stay here with me. It’s only a situation if you make it a situation.”

  I laughed. “Shit, I wish it was that simple.”

  “So you’re going to choose her over me? Why? Because she’s pregnant? Shit, I can get pregnant, too. Then what?” And to my surprise she climbed over onto my lap and straddled me. Shit.

  “Kyra, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

  “What am I supposed to do, Rick? You know I’m a fighter. You don’t expect me to put up a fight for you? Why not? I had you first.” She kissed me on the lips. It was the first kiss we had shared since she came back into my life. I couldn’t even say we shared it, because I was scared to kiss her back, fearing that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. “Answer me, baby. What am I supposed to do? This is not fair to me, and you know it.” She pressed her lips against mine and forced her tongue inside my mouth. I tasted wine and peppermint. She wiggled a little to get a better position on my dick. She kissed me again, this time rocking back and forth on what was now my growing hard-on. I knew I was in trouble.

  “Kyra . . . baby.”

  “I like the way you call me baby.”

  “Kyra—”

  “Rick, if I’m going to lose you, at least let me have this moment. I haven’t been kissed in God knows when. I haven’t been fucked in God knows when. I want you to fuck me, Rick.” She was kissing and sucking on my neck. I was the one who was fucked.

  Because my shit was getting too hard, I had to get her off my lap. I went to stand up, and she wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

  “Kyra . . . baby. We need to talk. Don’t do this.”

  “Do what?” She held me tighter as I eased over to the banister and set her on it. She still refused to turn me loose. I felt her hand slide down in my jeans and grab my joint. “Do what, Rick?”

  “That, Kyra.” She was squeezing and massaging. “C’mon, now. Let me go. I’m going back to her tonight, Kyra.” I tried to move her hand.

  “Not before I get me some of this dick, Rick. Remember the time we fucked in your mother’s house, in your old bedroom? I remember that. It’s crystal-clear in my mind. I can even feel you inside me.” She purred in my ear, as she nibbled my ear lobe.

  This time, when her lips touched mine, I kissed her back, and I couldn’t stop. The king anaconda was fully awakened, and he had a mind of his own. He was doing all of the thinking and was ready to dig into his prey. “Let’s go inside.” I was breathing hard. At this point, I couldn’t contain him if I wanted to.

  “Nope. You might change your mind. We are not going anywhere. You’re gonna fuck me right here. Right now.” She said it so seductively that I couldn’t help but lift her up and snatch off her panties. I hoped that Trae didn’t come to the door only to find me fucking Kyra on his porch, on his banister. I knew he had to have fucked Tasha out here, because the height was just right, the width was perfect, and the night sky put you in the mood the same way a nice, slow love song would.

  “I want you to feel how wet you’re making me, King Rick,” she whispered into my ear. She grabbed my hand and guided it between her thighs, and I ran my fingers lightly up her pussy, teasing her clit, causing her to jump and release one of the sexiest moans I had ever heard.

  “It’s too late to get jumpy now.” I kissed her throat, causing her to throw her head back and moan.

  “I’m not jumpy. I’m just horny.”

  She slid my jeans over my ass. I grabbed my steel and put it to her opening. She stiffened up. “Relax,” I ordered her. I buried the head of the anaconda in her tight but wet opening, sliding slightly in and out, causing her to groan as if I was all the way inside of her. “You sure this is what you want?”

  “I’m so . . . sure.” She moaned. Her body was shaking.

  I then slid all the way in, enjoying the tight grip of her walls. I felt her nails dig into my back as I went deeper and began to fuck her the way she wanted me to. Her tightness had me ready to come.

  “Rick. Rick. Rick,” she kept repeating. “Oh . . . Rick. I wanted this as soon as I realized who you were,” she said as she threw the pussy at me.

  “Kyra, I missed you so much.” The good pussy was forcing me to confess. “I want her to be you. I need her to be you.” I was saying shit I shouldn’t be saying.

  “I’m here now. I’m . . . Rick, baby. Oh, that feels . . . so . . . ssso good. Fuck me. Keep fucking me like that.” She squealed, and her body began to tremble. It vibrated like it had the few times I had taken her tender frame to ecstasy. She wasn’t lying when she said that she was thirsty for a good fucking. Her pussy was on fire and she was riding my dick as if it was the only one on the planet. I grunted as I plunged into her harder.

  “Shit,” she mumbled as her eyes rolled into her head and she gasped for air. She clung to my body. I could tell that she was glad to have me in her arms again. Each stroke brought me closer to her. My flesh rubbing against hers, her soft hands clutching at my back, her eyes locking with mines—the way we connected with each other went far and beyond mere sex. When we were together, we were on another plane.

  Just then, a van slowed down in front of the house. I pumped inside K
yra’s pussy faster. Van or not, I couldn’t stop. The pussy was feeling just that good. I was at the point of no return. She was coming as the van pulled into the driveway. I could see the heads of three kids. Nina, my fiancée, got out of the van as I spurt my seed deep into Kyra’s womb.

  7

  NINA

  I’m Nina Coles, and no, I’m not some chick who just popped up in the mix. I came on the set in What’s Really Hood, Wahida’s anthology with the short story called “Makin’ Endz Meet,” and then I’m the star in The Golden Hustla. Those two stories go together. Yeah, I had to plug Wahida’s books. She’s like that.

  Enough of the formalities. I met Rick while I was living in Atlanta. He became my thug knight in shining armor. It didn’t matter to him that I had three kids, a crazy ex and was mixed up in some made-for-reality-TV drama with my job. With his guidance, I flipped all that shit around and made it work for me—or, rather, us. We robbed my boss of his stash money, packed it up and moved to Miami. I wasn’t feeling the superficialness of Miami, so we decided to try Arizona. Especially since my oldest son had asthma.

  I knew that Rick used to live out in Cali and that his ex-wife was still there. I knew all about Kyra, the chick he was in love with who got killed. Hell, he admitted that I reminded him of her. He told me that several times. And I hate to admit it, at first, I was jealous of her. It was obvious that she had his heart, and I felt that I couldn’t compete with her. He had the hardest time making me believe that it wasn’t a competition. The girl was gone. Dead. Once I accepted and believed that there was no competition, our relationship went to the next level.

  I was and am still madly in love with him. He completes me. He is my soul mate, who loves me for me, and once we found out I was pregnant, he was ecstatic. He didn’t have any kids of his own, so he was beside himself.

  Everything was going picture-perfect until he made this trip to his old stomping grounds. I didn’t have a problem with him going back to where he made his career. Especially when he said he would only be gone for a few days. He said it was something he had to do. Some bullshit about a cop’s intuition. Now, that part concerned me. I wasn’t sure if that meant he was going to kill somebody, investigate a crime, or what. But he assured me it wasn’t anything like that. He said he needed to clear his head and wanted to hit the road. Okay, cool. Driving from Arizona to Cali—I didn’t have a problem with that. Shit, I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to. But then, the more he would call home, the more distant he began to sound. I would ask him if everything was all right, and he could never give me an answer that I was satisfied with. And now that he’d been gone for almost two weeks, I said, “Oh, fuck that!” Something was up. And that’s when I started piecing events and conversations together. Niggas don’t realize that women are the best detectives. When we want to find some shit out, we can, and we will.