Eve (23 page)

“He'll be a'ight,” Eve responded.

“She dissed me, fam,” Butter slurred.

Felon wanted to bark on Butter, but he knew his friend was going through something. This was the reason why he didn't want to get close to anyone. The hurt a female could inflict on you was worse than a gunshot. Gunshot wounds heal, but broken hearts could only be treated.

“Get up,” Felon said, helping Butter off the stoop. “Time to go home.”

“Fucking played me!” Butter yelled, nearly causing Felon to fall over.

“Let me help you,” Eve said, taking Butter's other arm.

“Damn, that nigga twisted,” Teddy said, approaching the spectacle.

“Shut up and go get the car,” Felon snapped. Teddy laughed and did as he was told. “I got it, Eve.”

She sucked her teeth. “Stop trying to be so fucking hard and let me help you get him home. I care about Butter too.”

Felon glared at Eve but didn't try to force her to go. Together they helped Butter into the back of the truck. Teddy drove while Felon sat in the passenger's seat. Eve rode in the back, keeping a damp paper towel pressed against Butter's forehead.

 

“I'm sick of niggaz!” Cassidy shouted, taking her clothes off.

“Stop yelling,” Sheeka complained from her bed.

“I'm for real,” Cassidy said. “I'm tired of these muthafuckas and the headaches they bring with them.”

“Face it, you slipped up. You bought this headache on yourself, big sis. What made you think you could dangle both of them niggaz and not get caught?”

“I wasn't
dangling
nobody. Butter wasn't my man, and Carlo was taking care of me. I ain't do shit wrong.”

Sheeka yawned. “Then why are you so damn mad?”

“I'm not mad. I'm sick. Sick with men and all their shit!”

“So you gonna switch to girls?” Sheeka joked.

“I said sick, not crazy.”

“Cas, forget about that shit. It was fun while it lasted.”

“Fuck both of them. I'm that bitch,” Cassidy declared, climbing into her bed. Butter and Carlo could both go to hell. It would only be a matter of time before something else came along. The sisters talked for a while longer, then decided to turn it in. Before long, they were both fast asleep and men troubles were totally forgotten.

Eve and Felon dragged Butter through the apartment door. He was damn near out on his feet, so it was no easy task. To make matters worse, he stank to high hell. On the way home, Butter had started throwing up out the rear window of the truck. Dried vomit stained his chin and the front of his shirt. With some effort they managed to get Butter to his bedroom. They tossed him on the bed, but he continued snoring. He was out like a light.

Felon proceeded to remove Butter's shoes so he could sleep comfortably. Eve watched, admiring Felon for being such a good friend. This was one of the reasons she was so attracted to him. Felon was a hood nigga, but he was also very compassionate. She watched his muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he performed his task. Eve found herself reaching out to touch him but pulled back. She quickly exited the room, leaving Felon to his task.

 

Carlo sat in the middle of his living room, snorting cocaine and drinking Dominican rum. He couldn't believe that Butter had tried to raise up on him. Butter had to know that if he laid his hands on him, it was a death sentence, but he had tried it anyway. It was amazing what the power of the pussy could do to some men. Cassidy had great pussy, so Carlo totally understood.

Speaking of Cassidy, what was he to do about his little ghetto flower? Carlo knew it would only be a matter of time before the black bitch became a headache. Cassidy was a pro in bed and after some coaxing, even participated in some of Carlo's little games. He hadn't got her to sleep with him and another woman yet, but it was on his list. He had fun with her, and thought that he might even keep her around for a while. She was angry, but it would blow over. Toss her a few dollars and she'd be right back on his dick. She might not have snorted or smoked, but she was an addict like the rest.

 

Eve was sitting on Butter's couch, sipping a glass of juice, when Felon came out of the bedroom. She had kicked off her sandals and was flexing her toes in the plush carpet. Felon hadn't noticed them in the club, but in soft living room lights he surveyed her air-brushed toenails. They were the same silver and black orchid print that coated her nails. Felon managed to tear his gaze away from her long enough to make his way to the bar. He poured himself a glass of Henny and joined her on the couch.

“I see you made yourself at home,” he joked.

“I figured you were gonna be a while. Besides, me feet were starting to hurt,” she said, wiggling her toes.

“I know how it be with the bunions.” He nudged her.

“Boy, please. Ain't nobody got no bunions.” They shared a brief laugh, then there was silence. This was the first time they had been alone together. She pretended to be watching the television, but she was really looking at Felon. In that light, he still looked like the teenaged boy she used to pull heists with. From his flawless black skin to his angular jaw, he was still as intriguing to her as he had been back then.

Felon could tell Eve was looking at him. If there was one thing he learned from being in the streets, it was to be able to tell when someone was clocking you. Felon could feel his palms beginning to sweat. It was funny how even at that age a girl could make him feel like that. Maybe it was being so close to her, or it could've been the liquor, but Felon could feel heat mounting in his gut. Usually they had someone to act as a buffer, but this particular evening he and Eve were alone.

“What you looking at?” he said, catching her off guard.

“I ain't looking at you,” she said, sticking her tongue out. Between the heat and the alcohol, Eve found herself feeling playful.

“You know your face could freeze like that.”

“Bullshit.” She fanned him off.

“It's true.”

“Well, you know your liver could rot, drinking that shit,” she shot back.

“As if you care,” Felon said, emptying his glass and getting up to get another.

“Cut it out, Felon. You know I got love for all y'all crazy asses.”

“I don't doubt it,” he said, returning to the couch with his glass, “but that ain't the kind of love I'm talking about.” Felon shocked himself with that statement. He had been thinking it, but he hadn't intended on saying it. The liquor had loosened his tongue and he had put it out there. He couldn't take it back now.

 

Cassidy was awakened by the chirping of her cell phone. She sucked her teeth in frustration, because she had just dropped off to sleep not long before. Without looking at the caller ID, she answered it with a major attitude.

Sheeka too was awakened by the late-night call. She wondered who the hell it might be calling at that hour, but with Cassidy, you never could tell. She lay there, pretending to be asleep, while Cassidy exchanged heated words with whoever was on the other end. After about five minutes of going back and forth, Cassidy ended the call. Glad that her sister's late-night drama hadn't cut too deep into her rest, Sheeka dropped back off to sleep.

“Felon, what you talking about?” Eve asked, knowing full well what he meant.

“Baby girl,” he said, gathering his courage, “how long we gonna play this game?” He touched her thigh gently.

“Felon, your ass is tipsy. Let's not go there right now.” Eve tried to get up, but he pulled her back down. He used a little more force than he intended and she landed on his lap. He thought she was going to pull away again, but to his surprise she didn't. They sat there for a while, gazing at each other.

“Evelyn, why don't you want me?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Looking into his beautiful brown eyes, Eve couldn't think of anything but the emotions that she had kept locked away for so long. Eve wanted to tell him how she felt. She wanted to tell him that she had wanted him for as long as she could remember, but the words escaped her. This is when Felon did the unexpected.

Slowly he leaned into Eve's space. She wanted to pull back, but her heart wouldn't let her. Before she could ask him to stop, their lips met. Felon kissed her deeply, tenderly. Tiny shocks shot from her toes to the top of her head. As if moving of its own accord, her tongue met his and performed a lover's dance.

Felon eased her back on the couch and undid Eve's blouse. He kissed her neck and worked his way down to her breasts. Just above her left breast there was a tattoo of the number 20 with wings on either side. Beneath the tat, she still carried the bullet wound from the night of her parent's execution. When he unclamped her bra, her breasts popped out and called to him. They sat up like two golden mounds. Her already erect nipples stiffened even more under his gentle kisses. They explored each others' bodies with fingers and hungry kisses. She gently nibbled at his neck, causing Felon to moan in ecstasy.

Eve wanted Felon as bad as she wanted her freedom when she was locked down. She popped open his shirt and began to lick his muscular chest. When he undid her pants, she didn't resist. Eve could feel her sex begin to warm and moisten. She took his hand and guided it down to her pussy. Felon gently inserted his finger into her, and Eve gasped. He felt so good that she could feel herself releasing in his hand. He slid her pants down and began to kiss her stomach. Felon worked his way down to her clit.

When his tongue entered her, it felt like liquid fire. She had heard Cassidy and the others talk about what oral sex felt like, but she never imagined that it would be like this. He licked her like an ice-cream cone on a summer day. She grabbed his head and begged him not to stop. When he felt like he was about to explode, Felon removed a condom from his pocket and moved over to enter her. Eve pressed her hands against his chest to stop him.

“What's wrong, baby?” he panted.

“What if Teddy comes up?” she asked.

“Don't worry about him. He'll call first,” he said, kissing her again. “Eve, baby. I've wanted you for so long, let me make love to you.” He resumed planting kisses on her and stealthily slipped the condom on.

Eve melted under his touch. Her body quaked as tiny sparks flickered and died in every one of her nerve endings. After all this time, she was about to give herself to the man she truly loved. No matter how wrong her logical brain told her it was, her heart and the moisture building in her pussy told her it was right. She would have this man, but she had to lay her cards on the table first.

“Felon, before we do this, I need to know it's real.” She said.

“Oh, it's real as can be, ma. I want to be inside you, and you want me inside you.” He said, playing with her moist clit. “Let me in, boo.”

“Felon, I've never done this before,” she told him.

Felon stared down at her with raised eyebrows. “You're a virgin?” he asked, totally surprised. Eve sucked her teeth in embarrassment. “Hold on, baby.” He stroked her cheek. “It's cool. I just didn't know you were a virgin.”

“Something wrong with that?” she asked defensively.

“No, no, baby. That's cool. I just didn't know. That's all. I'll be gentle.”

Eve was still hesitant, but once he began kissing her belly again, she loosened up. He tried to position her on the couch so she would be as comfortable as possible, but to his surprise, she opted to get on the floor. She slid down onto the carpet and waited for him to join her. He balanced himself on his arms so she wouldn't be crushed under the weight. On his first attempt at entering her, Eve flinched and scooted back.

He crawled up to where she was lying and wrapped one arm tenderly around her waist. He gazed deeply into her eyes and she could've sworn he mouthed “I love you.” They looked into each other's eyes as he slowly began entering her.

As soon as he got the head in, she tensed and dug her nails into his back. Her love tunnel was the tightest he had ever felt, slowly yielding, allowing him entry. Felon had to clench his teeth together in order to keep from crying out. Eve felt like heaven. Slowly and methodically he began to stroke her. She panted helplessly and soon they established a rhythm.

Felon pumped into her and Eve threw it back. The pain had faded and she was floating on a cloud. If she had known sex was that good, she might not have waited so long. She moaned and cursed as Felon took her to highs that the weed or the liquor never could. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she came over and over. Felon came shortly after and the two lay in each others' arms, spent.

 

When Teddy dropped Eve and Felon off in front of Butter's building, he figured they would be a while, so he decided to get some work done. There were still some unturned stones relating to Butter's attempted murder that needed to be looked into. After stopping to pick some extra muscle, he hit the streets in search of his prey.

Teddy sat slouched behind the wheel of the Tahoe, smoking a blunt and observing the street directly in front of him. He had been watching the tiny bar for the last hour, but nothing eventful had happened yet. The two goons in the backseat were beginning to get antsy. They were soldiers, and recon wasn't one of their strong points.

“Yo, we've been here for hours,” a nobody named Rocco complained.

“And we'll be here as long as it takes,” Teddy said coldly. “Nigga, you ain't getting paid to keep time, you getting paid to put in work. So until that time comes, shut the fuck up and let me think!” Rocco started to beef, but there was no doubt that Teddy would use the .357 that sat on his lap.

Teddy watched the bar for twenty more minutes; then something interesting happened. A customized motorcycle rolled to a stop in front of the bar. It was black, with extended handle-bars. The rider was low to the ground, but not as low as one would be on a traditional chopper. He could still manage to get on and off with minimal effort. The bike wasn't like anything Teddy had ever seen, or at least not in that combination. It appeared to be built entirely of different cycles. The rider revved the bike, causing the pipes to release a ghostly wail.

Dre came out of the bar, followed by two of his boys and the girl from the club. Dre approached the rider while his companions hung back. Teddy pulled out a digital camera and took a few shots of the meeting. Dre handed the man an envelope and mouthed something to the rider. When he lifted the visor of his helmet, he had his back to Teddy, so there was no way to tell who was behind the mask.

The whole thing gave him food for thought. Butter didn't think Dre had anything to do with the attempted hit, but Teddy's gut told him differently. Now he caught the suspect doing back-door deals with an unknown conspirator. All of the pieces hadn't come together yet, but Teddy got the picture. Dre would be simple to touch, but the rider was another issue. He had no idea of the man's identity, or what he was capable of. He would be the key to all of it. Teddy hadn't seen his face, but someone was sure to have a line on the owner of the bike.

After the rider departed Dre and his people walked from the bar to a Chevy that was parked a few cars down. Dre got in the back with his lady and the two men piled in the front. The engine rattled and the car rolled out into traffic. Teddy counted to twenty and rolled out in the opposite direction.