Animal (12 page)

Frankie rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you before that me and Cutty ain’t fucking. This is just a business arrangement.”

“I wonder what kinda arrangement that is, where it brings you out in the streets in the wee hours of the mornings,” Dena said. Frankie raised her eyebrow. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. My window is in the front so I can see when ya ass is creeping in and out.”

“You’re so fucking nosey.” Frankie stood up to walk into the kitchen.

Dena stood up and blocked her path. “I’m not nosey, I’m concerned, ma. I know Cutty’s type, and niggaz like him don’t mean you no good.”

“Dena, I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself.” Frankie sucked her teeth and tried to step around Dena. “Move, Dena,” Frankie demanded.

“Not until you listen to what I have to say.” Dena folded her arms. Frankie’s nostrils flared. “What, you plan on moving me?”

In answer to her question Frankie gave Dena a shove, catching her off guard and causing her to stumble backward. Dena rushed Frankie, and they both stumbled over the coffee table and ended up crashing onto the floor. They tussled around through the living room with Frankie eventually ending up on top of Dena with her hands around her throat, but Dena held two fists full of Frankie’s hair. They glared at each other, neither willing to release their grips. Just as the ball of violent energy between them threatened to pop, Frankie leaned in and kissed Dena.

The kiss was rough and feral, with Frankie’s teeth nicking Dena’s soft lips. Dena didn’t back down, kissing Frankie just as deeply and pinching her tongue between her teeth and applying pressure. They rolled again and this time Dena was on top, rubbing Frankie’s breasts through her shirt and suckling her bottom lip. They tore at each other like animals until they were both nude and wrestling around on Frankie’s throw rug. Dena planted passionate kisses all over Frankie’s body, going from her chin to her navel, leaving a trail of moisture down Dena’s torso. Dena kissed both of Frankie’s inner thighs, dancing around from one to the other, grazing Frankie’s pussy with her lips each time she crossed it. Slowly and deliberately, Dena used the tip of her tongue to part Frankie’s pussy lips and toyed with her clit.

Frankie grabbed the back of Dena’s head and forced her face deeper into her crotch, grinding on her nimble tongue. Dena ate Frankie like a starving child from a third world country,
jacking her finger in and out of Frankie’s pussy as she did so. Waves of toe-curling pleasure shot up through Frankie’s body making her meow like a cat in heat. With a spasm Frankie came, spraying Dena’s face with her juices. When she was done, she pulled Dena up by the hair so that they were face to face and they began kissing, Frankie tasting the fluids on Dena’s chin and lips and licking them away until she was clean.

“Your turn,” Frankie purred, wiggling from under Dena and laying her on her stomach. She placed a throw pillow under Dena’s stomach so that her butt was hiked up and began to knead her ass cheeks like she was about to bake a loaf of bread. For a petite girl she had very strong hands. Frankie kissed one butt cheek, then the other, and let her tongue dance along the crack of Dena’s ass. Dena braced herself when she felt Frankie’s lips graze her pussy, but Frankie changed direction and went back to kissing her ass cheeks.

“Stop playing and get this shit,” Dena panted. She reached back trying to grab Frankie’s head, but Frankie moved out of her reach.

Frankie slapped Dena on the ass, then bit the cheek. “Shut up and let me do this.” Frankie finally stopped teasing and got down to business. She spread Dena’s ass cheeks wide and laid her face softly in the center of her, slurping like she was trying to remove a clam from its shell. Frankie touched every corner of Dena’s pussy with tongue and lips, even treating her asshole to some attention. Frankie had initially been a novice at pleasuring a woman, but through practice and time she had gotten quite good at it.

Dena clawed at the carpet and cursed while Frankie made her climax over and over. The last nut swelled like a balloon in
the pit of Dena’s gut, and her leg began to shake violently. Just when Dena couldn’t take it anymore, she exploded, soaking the carpet as well as the lower half of Frankie’s face. When it was all over, the two spent lovers lay side by side, staring into each other’s eyes and lost in their own thoughts.

When Frankie met Dena you would’ve never in a million years thought that they would become lovers. Frankie had experimented with girls when she was young, but it wasn’t her cup of tea, at least it hadn’t been back then, but then she met Dena and everything changed . . . including her.

From their first conversation it was obvious that Dena and Frankie were kindred spirits, having both had very rough lives where they had been taken advantage of by men they had trusted. Though Frankie had been in the streets and knew that there were always consequences, the men who had invaded her home had no right to violate her the way they did. They’d left Frankie for dead and through the grace of God she had survived, even managing to take two of them with her, but her survival came with a price, and the devil holding the receipt for her soul was named Cutty. He had a hold over Frankie, and when it suited him, made her dance like a puppet on a string. The way he toyed with Frankie infuriated Dena because it was a grim reminder that she too had once danced on a string, but it had cost her far more.

Dena had been young, dumb, and looking for life’s next big thrill, and she had found it in the form of a pimp named Black Ice. Ice came into Dena’s world and turned it upside down, introducing her to big money and high society. People warned her about what type of person Black Ice really was, but the naïve young girl chalked it up to them hating on her and her
new
man
. Dena ignored the warnings and continued to ride the roller coaster with Ice until it slammed her headfirst into a wall at a party hosted by the notorious Don B. That was the first time she saw her knight in silk armor for what he really was—a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The man who she thought she loved saw her as little more than a new addition to his stable. When Dena balked at the idea of selling her body for money, Black Ice drugged her and set her out to the wolves. Of that day she still had no idea how many of them there were, nor did she care to remember. One by one they took turns violating every hole on the young girl’s body and humiliating her in a room full of people. For what he’d done, Black Ice was rewarded a ruthless and very public death at the hands of Dena’s brother Shannon. Shannon sacrificed his freedom, and eventually his life, in the name of his sister, but it couldn’t stop the slow slide into hell that the rape had sent Dena on.

After the rape, Dena woke up in the hospital, barely alive and broken from the inside out. Fate would mock her once again when she was notified that traces of the HIV virus had been found in one of the semen samples they had collected from inside her. She had tested negative, but it was the beginning of the worst five years of her life. Every six months she would have to go back to the hospital to get tested, living in constant fear that she would find out she had a death sentence. Years later, Dena still hadn’t come up positive, but the damage to her psyche was already done. After what had happened at the Big Dawg party, she swore she would never again let a man touch her.

Frankie’s cell phone rang from somewhere in the jumble of
clothes strewn around the living room. She tossed aside shirts and bras until she finally found the BlackBerry. “Hello,” she blurted into the phone.

“Damn, did I interrupt something?” a familiar voice said on the other end.

“No, simple ass. What’s good, Porsha?” Frankie greeted her friend and former roommate.

“Ain’t too much. Calling to check in on my favorite evictee,” Porsha joked on the other end. She was one of the two other girls that shared the apartment in the projects with Frankie until they had all gotten kicked out on their asses. They had all gone their separate ways, but Porsha and Frankie kept in contact.

“Shit, just getting back to BK.”

“Just getting back? Where the hell are you just coming from?” Porsha asked suspiciously. She knew Frankie was a homebody who rarely got out.

“Nowhere special, just taking care of something,” Frankie said in a tone that said it wasn’t up for discussion.

“I hear that hot shit. Anyhow, what you getting into tonight?” Porsha asked.

“Not much. I was gonna watch some movies and chill out,” Frankie told her. Dena crawled over to her and started kissing Frankie’s breasts. Frankie giggled and pushed her away. “Why, what’s up?”

“Let’s go out tonight and get white-girl-wasted!” Porsha yelled in Frankie’s ear.

“Here you go. Porsha, it’s the middle of the week,” Frankie pointed out.

“And what is that supposed to mean to me? Every day is Friday when you’re self-employed,” Porsha boasted.

“I know you ain’t back in the clubs,” Frankie said seriously.

“Bitch, you must’ve fallen and bumped your head if you think times have gotten that hard for me. You see where that shit got me, so why would you even ask?” At one time, Porsha had been on the fast track, stripping in some of the tristate’s most notorious clubs. She made lots of money doing it, but in the end, she learned that all that glittered wasn’t gold and became another one of Don B.’s unsuspecting victims. That, coupled with everything else that was going wrong in Porsha’s life, weighed heavily on her and when they got evicted that was the breaking point. Porsha had hung up her stilettos and applied herself more to school and the greener pastures of a regular nine-to-five.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Porsha, and you know it,” Frankie said sincerely.

“Yes, you did, and you know it,” Porsha laughed. Her mood had softened. “Well, if you must know, I got my first check from that modeling gig.”

“What modeling gig?”

“Frankie, are you serious? Remember, I told you I uploaded some pictures to a couple of the modeling sites to try to get some extra paper while I’m working my day job? Damn, we’re supposed to be girls, and you don’t listen when I talk.”

“I’m sorry, P. But I do remember you saying something about a website. So it worked out for you?”

“Sure did. About two months ago one of the agencies called me in to do some test shots. They liked what they saw and got me some work. It was a just a little spot modeling jeans in a catalog, but I got a nice check out of it. They say they’ll probably be calling me in to do some more stuff soon.”

“Congratulations, Porsha, I’m so proud of you!” Frankie screamed.

“Yeah, right, when you were just accusing me of going back to stripping five minutes ago,” Porsha teased. “But on some real shit, thanks, Frankie. I’m really trying to go hard with this modeling because I can’t see myself punching a clock every morning for the next thirty years. Something gotta give.”

“I know that’s right, but until such time, we gotta do what we gotta do to get by.”

“I totally agree, and I say that in honor of bitches busting their asses day in and day out. Let’s go get fall-down-drunk tonight. I got a few dollars, Frankie, so let’s go spend them before I blow them on clothes.”

Frankie thought about it. She looked over at Dena who was teasing her pussy with her finger and staring up at Frankie with pleading eyes. “A’ight, Porsha, but can I bring a friend?”

PART II

OMENS

TWELVE

S
HAI STOOD ON THE FREE THROW LINE
of his indoor basketball court, focused on nothing but the rim. The state-of-the-art replica NBA court had been his birthday gift to himself when he turned twenty-one. It was equipped with four rows of cushioned benches on both sides of the gym and two regulation height rims at either end. The entire gym, including the rims and lines on the court, were painted blue and orange in homage to his favorite team, the New York Knicks. When he had been a promising college prospect his dream had always been to play for his hometown team, but that dream seemed like a lifetime ago.

Shai took a deep breath, aimed at the rim, released the ball . . . and missed. On any given day he could come in the gym and knock down one hundred free throws straight without a miss, but that day he couldn’t seem to sink two in a row. He started to jog after the ball but decided against it. He was tired, so very tired.

Shai had been barely out of his teens when he was literally
handed the keys to the city. With his father dead and his brother fighting his own demons, Shai became the boss by default and had to wear all the bullshit that came with a criminal enterprise. For the most part, he had managed to limit himself to the legitimate side of the Clark Empire while Swann, Angelo, and Big Doc handled the business on the streets, but the smooth ride was a short one. Swann and the others came up under Poppa and were used to the craziness, but Shai wasn’t. He just wanted to be a good man to his family and honor his father’s memory, but it was near impossible to do from the sidelines. Shai soon learned that the king had to not only speak, but be seen. The crown he had been cursed with proved heavier to wear than he ever imagined, and sometimes he wondered how long he would be able to carry it.

“Shai,” Honey called from the doorway, startling him, “everything okay?” She approached with a worried look on her face.

“Right as rain, baby.” He kissed her on the lips. “Why do you ask?”

“Because,” she picked up the discarded basketball and dribbled it awkwardly, “in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve only seen you miss a free throw on a few occasions, and each time there was something on your mind.” She shot the ball, and it fell soundlessly through the rim.

Shai shook his head and laughed. “Nice shot, nosey ass.”

“I learned a thing or three from being around you these last few years,” she winked, “now quit changing the subject. What’s bothering you, Shai?”

Shai picked up the basketball and began dribbling it through his legs. “Honey, don’t go jumping to conclusions
over a missed free throw.” He shot the ball and made the basket this time.

“Normally, I wouldn’t. But when Swann shows up unannounced, that generally means something is up. He’s waiting for you upstairs in the kitchen,” she informed him. Shai tried to keep his poker face, but his eyes confirmed her suspicions.