Heels of Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) (30 page)

“Go and fucking get her. I’ll call you back in ten minutes. GO AND GET HER!”

“Okay, I will.” she said.

“Thanks, man.” I gave the man back his phone. He and the woman got up from the table, and now I could see everyone sitting close to us was staring at me, and security was walking around watching me.

“Chill,” Loon whispered.

We got to the other terminal, and I borrowed another phone from a college student. I called the house, and there was no answer. I called the other house and still no answer. I gave the kid back his phone. I sat there with my mind wondering. I guessed the lines are down all over the reservation.

We boarded the plane, but something kept tugging at me. I felt sick and something was missing. It felt like the air was too thin, and I was about to choke on it. I fell down into my seat; every breath was getting harder and harder.

“Chill man,” Loon said. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. I ended up drifting off and woke when we were landing at Sea Tac.

It was going to take me three hours to get to the reservation, but I had to go now. It was almost six thirty, and the sun was peeking out. When we got off the plane, I sprinted to the exit, Loon right on my heels. Kanoke and Sheen tagged along with Chelle and Ayashe. I knew they would be in with them for the rest of the day. I had to get to the reservation, and I knew I would be speeding the whole way.

We ran to the parking garage where I left the truck. I paid the toll, and we drove off. I plugged my phone into the charger and buckled my seat belt. After thirty minutes of charging my phone, I had a little battery life. I tried calling everybody, but no one answered their phones. The phones must still be down. I called over a dozen people over a dozen times.

After an hour of silence, Loon went back to sleep. We made it to the reservation in two and half hours. I pulled up at the house and ran to the door; I slid the key in and busted the door wide open. I went to my room, and she was not there. I called out to her and there was nothing. I ran next door, and Loon was walking behind me.

I opened the door, and everyone was at the table. I looked at each face and I didn’t see Cricket’s.

“CRICKET,” I yelled. They all watched me, and then JJ put her hands on my shoulders.

“She’s gone, and I don’t think she’s coming back,” she said.

“WHAT THE FUCK, JJ!” I yelled.

I ran out the house and went back to the truck. I yanked my cell phone out of its cradle, and I ran into the house and dialed Cricket’s number from the wall phone. It went straight to voicemail. I dialed it three more times, and it went straight to voicemail.

“Babe, call me as soon as you get this fucking message. As soon as you get this, call me!”

Everyone was standing in the living room watching me, and that was pissing me off.

“Why did you let her go? I asked you to do one thing, and you fucked that all up like you do every fucking thing else,” I yelled at JJ.

I called Chelle, and she didn’t answer; I called Ayashe and she didn’t answer. The wall phone rang, and I answered it on the first ring. “Cricket?” I breathed into the phone.

“She’s gone Jyme,” Chelle said. We hung up the phone twenty minutes later with me knowing Cricket’s whole life story. After hearing about Cricket’s mysterious life, I now know that I’ve been defeated, and that I will never see her again. I walked out the door saying nothing to anyone. I got back into the truck and drove away. Four hours later, I pulled up at the docks and got into the speedboat Cricket hated so much. I was heading back to the safe house, hoping and now wishing, that somehow she would be there waiting for me.

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Wounded Love

From Love to Loathe Series Part 2

C
HAPTER 1

T
HE
N
EW
C
RICKET

T
he smell of cigarettes, cigars, vomit, and brown liquor lingered in the air. Today was my first day back from a ninety-day vacation. Cinnamon and Sugar had done a great job; so good in fact that we decided to keep Sugar on fulltime. We were a bunch of rejects though; Cinnamon was a mixed breed of some sort. She told me last October that she wasn’t sure what she was mixed with. Sugar knew her parents, but she tried to drink the memory of them away nightly. And I was the crème de la crème of fucked. I did not know my birth parents, my real name, or my real birth date. When I was little, my big sister, Chyna, asked me what my favorite day of the year was, and I picked Valentine’s Day. I told her that women always got sparkly things on that day. So, she decided my birthday would be on Valentine’s Day.

I thought of the very first day I met Troy and Trey as I walked to the Cash Box. Chyna had just broken up with one of her councilmen, and we were moving out of one of his condos that he kept a secret from his wife. Chyna and Chelle were loading up the car and I was a block away picking up our lunch. The first time I saw Troy and Trey they were on the corner that I had just turned. Trey approached me first, trying his best to be suave.

“Hey, beautiful girl, do you want to come to my show tonight?” A guy said as he jogged up to me. He had light brown skin and curly hair. He wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

“No.”

“I put on a real good show, girl,” he told me as he handed me a flyer. I held the flyer with my empty hand.

“Hey, let me get them bags for you, beautiful girl,” he said, reaching for the bags in my hand. I moved them all to the arm farthest from him.

“That’s alright, I’m good.”

“Dang, you cold as hell.”

“No, actually hell is hot and it’s cold out here.”

“You’re mean too!”

“Trey, leave that girl alone; she’s not interested.”

“Thank you, he doesn’t seem to catch a hint,” I called back to the other guy.

“Can’t you see she’s too classy for us and she’s out of our league?” Troy asked Trey.

It was obvious Troy had schooled Trey on what to say. All of his words seemed rehearsed. He stopped following me and I turned the last corner. When I reached Chyna, she was still loading the car. She turned to face me and I handed her one of the bags.

“Cric-kat, what did I tell you about bringing strays home?” Chyna had been calling me Cric-kat for as long as I could remember. She told me that’s how I used to say my name when I was little, and it just kind of stuck. I turned around and there were two, almost identical boys, standing right behind me; starring at the both of us. Chyna liked Troy instantly; we went to their show that night, and we started working at the club the next day.

I walked to the cash cage and Misty gave me my nightly dosage. “Good luck, honey,” she said with a smile.

I walked over to the roulette tables and noticed Troy staring at the black tables. As I glanced around the room, I saw my mark. He was a short, paunchy something, wearing a white suit with bright red shoes. I could tell instantly that he was a tit man. The waitress couldn’t get away from him fast enough. I smiled at her, and she shook her head as she walked past.

“Good luck with that one,” she breathed.

When Troy made eye contact with me, he seemed to have relaxed a little. I winked at him, and he nodded as I walked over to the table and stood across from pudgy. I looked to my left and then made a show of looking toward the right.

“DAMN!” he said, gawking at me. I giggled and started walking away from the table slowly.

“Wait, wait, where you going?” he called out. I stopped and turned back to him. He waved for me to come and sit next to him.

“You sit right here, sweet thang, and give Uncle Ben some good luck.”

I sat down, and the twins came all the way to the stage. He stared, licked his lips, and cleared his throat. I crossed my legs and let the slit in my dress rise under the table. Then I pressed my inner thigh on his package and I felt a very small lump. He lost it then; he pulled out a hundred dollar bill and slid it between the twins. I giggled and pressed up against him even more. My leg slid up and down the inseam of his pants, and he grunted. I quickly pulled my leg back; I didn’t want any of that on me. I quickly stood, smoothed out my dress and walked away. As I walked past Troy, he nodded and I smiled at him.

I made three more rounds through the casino and then took a break. I went to Lecrux, one of the three restaurants in the casino. They had the best wine selection there. I sat down, and Dax brought me a glass and filled it with a Pinot. I took one sip, and Cinnamon sat down across from me.

“Hey there, you looking for some company tonight?” she said with a smirk.

“I got a warm place you can put them cold hands,” I replied with a grin.

“Mondays suck!”

I nodded and took another sip. “Especially if it’s your birthday.”

Cinnamon smiled wide and started singing to me an octave way too high for her. The entire wait staff at Lecrux was now at my table singing, “Happy Birthday” to me. Chef Seal set down a perfectly round, saucer-sized slice of red velvet cake with crème cheese frosting. I thanked them all and gave Chef Seal a kiss on his cheek. I ate my slice in peace while Cinnamon played with her smart phone.

When I looked up, Trey stood next to me and asked if he could have a seat. I scooted over and ignored Cinnamon; that was our code for her to stay right where she was. Trey leaned in and kissed me on my mouth. I could taste the liquor on his tongue and knew it was going to be one of
those
nights.

“I missed you, baby,” he said.

“I missed you too,” I lied.

“You couldn’t call me once?”

“I told you Nantucket has horrible service and my poor aunt was really bad off.”

“Baby, you’ve been gone for three months.”

“It’s actually been eighty-nine days. It was supposed to have been ninety, but your brother insisted.”

Trey reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He set it in front of me and I stared at it.

“Open it, will ya?”

I picked up the small box and cracked it open; it held a ring with a round stone flanked by two smaller stones.

“Will you make an honest man out of me?” he asked.

“Dear God,” Cinnamon moaned as she rose from her seat. “Happy Birthday, Cricket,” she said as she walked away.

I sat there looking at the ring.

Dax walked back over to fill my glass again. “Whoa. Let me get you something a little stronger,” he said.

I nodded, and he bustled away. Dax came right back and poured some brown liquid in a glass. As he set it down, he widened his eyes and took a deep breath before he walked away.

“I mean, hell, Cricket, I know it’s just you and me, so we should do this.”

“I’m not ready to get married, Trey.”

“You’re not ready to get married…or are you just not ready to get married to me?”

“Does it matter?”

Trey slapped the drink out of my hand and yanked the hair at the back of my head so that I was looking at him. “See, that fuckin’ smart mouth of yours is what makes me do things to you that I don’t want to do.”

Dax walked over and set a drink down in front of Trey.

“Trey, did you want the chef to make you something?” Dax asked, trying to help me out, and I loved him dearly for it. Trey released me and righted himself.

I looked down at my watch. “I need to get back to work.”

He waved his hand for me to go. I walked to the bar and handed Dax forty dollars. He smiled at me and squeezed my hand; I didn’t react.

As I left the bar, I heard Trey call Dax back over to the table. Trey always got shit faced when he was stressed or upset about something. Since I hadn’t said or acted the way he had outlined in that fucked up head of his, I knew I could hang it up on getting any sleep tonight. I knew he would be shit faced tonight and would more than likely take it out on me.

I made it back to the floor and did two more rounds, which were both successful. It was time for Sugar’s shift, so I went back to the cash cage and turned my chips in.