On the Run with Love (9 page)

Freddie sucked his teeth nonchalantly. “If you call two li'l twelve-year-olds bein' together, then yeah.”

“Did you do it to her?” Simone asked directly.

Freddie laughed. “Do it to her? You sound like you twelve or somethin'.”

“Oh, you want the grown version?” Simone found no humor in his statement. “Did you fuck her, huh, Freddie?” she asked, irked.

“No, I didn't do it to her. I didn't fuck her either. I told you, we was twelve. Damn,” he cursed. He hated being accused of something he didn't do, even though it wasn't like he wasn't trying to fuck her at twelve.

Simone sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Freddie, I'm not going to compete for you. I love you with all my heart, but I don't like feeling like everywhere we go or everything we do I have to compete, because every time I turn around, somebody somewhere is plottin' to take what I got. It's too much. . . .”

Her words drifted off in frustration. Freddie sat up to cradle and comfort her. “Come on, ma. You ain't never got to compete for me. What did I do tonight to make you feel like that?” he wanted to know; but deep down inside he already knew.

“It wasn't you, Freddie. I just saw all those girls looking and—”

Freddie kissed her on the neck. “Simone, look at me.” He put his finger up under her chin and guided her face in his direction. She turned her head and looked into his eyes.

“Just like I can't stop niggas from lookin' at you, I can't stop females from lookin' at me,” he began to explain. “But I can control how I handle it. So I ask you again, did I do anything tonight to make you feel like you ain't the only one for me?”

She searched his eyes for a moment and found nothing but sincerity. “You didn't do anything.”

“And I won't. I promise, babe.” His tone was sincere. “After all we've been through, I'd be a fool to give up the best thing that ever happened to me,” he assured her.

“She was pretty, though.” Simone smirked, referring to the girl back at the club.

“You're prettier,” he replied.

“No, I'm beautiful, remember?” she reminded him.

Slug kept his word. The next day, a U-Haul truck full of furnishings was delivered by a couple of crackheads who were running ghetto moves on Rent-America, flipping apartments. He had paid the extra to put everything together for them. Simone opened the apartment door and took a step back to take it all in. It looked just like a photo straight out of IKEA.

“Welcome home,” Freddie, said giving her a glimmer of hope. He led her inside the house and helped her get comfortable by taking her coat and giving her permission to take off her shoes. “Follow me.”

Slug had hooked them up. As if hypnotized, Simone didn't say a word and followed Freddie up the stairs, down the hall, and into his bedroom.

“Have a seat on the bed,” Freddie said as he went into the bathroom. He came out with five candles and a lighter that he had grabbed from the dollar store earlier. He set the five candles on top of his dresser. He lit them one by one then turned off the lights in his room.

Simone looked around the room as if the lights had gone off by themselves. Her ears suddenly heard the sound of one of her favorite male R&B groups, coincidentally one of her favorite songs. She looked at Freddie, now shirtless, standing by the radio with the remote in his hand.

“What's going on?”

Freddie grooved toward her, snapping his fingers with each step he took. He placed his finger over her lips and grabbed her hands to lift her from the bed. She allowed herself to follow. He wrapped his hands around her hips and locked his fingers together so that she could not pull away from him. She responded by throwing her hands around his neck, turned on by the fact that he wanted to slow dance in the middle of his room.

Freddie!” she protested.

“Dance with me, baby.” He smiled.

Simone couldn't resist his charming grin. She stepped into his embrace. They swayed back and forth, silently, and let their eyes do all the talking.

Simone instinctively laid her head on his bare chest and stared down at his abs. She inhaled his masculine scent and ran her hands down his back. Just as the music changed to the next track, she kissed his chest. She looked up at Freddie immediately afterward, as if she had done something wrong.

“Everything's going to be okay, isn't it?” she asked in a low whisper.

“I promise,” was the soft reply she had received. Then Freddie whisked her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. Without asking, all in one motion, he unfastened Simone's jeans and began lowering them.

“Freddie,” Simone said, shy and bubbly. “Didn't Slug say he'd be back in thirty minutes?” she reminded him as she inched away.

“That's more than enough time.” He flashed the same smile he had just revealed moments ago.

Simone let out a light chuckle. She wanted to feel his full lips kissing every part of her body and his firm, large hands gripping her thighs as they made love. It amazed her that she was moments away from getting that desire. It caused her heart to beat faster.

“You sure?” she cooed, running her hand along the side of his face. Her fingers outlined the shape of his lips, as she examined the passionate look on his face. “I'm just nervous.”

It was Freddie's turn to chuckle. He ran his hands along the curves of her legs until they were resting on her arm. “Nothin' to worry about. I got you. You trust me, right?” he asked.

Simone nodded. “With all of my being,” Simone answered, staring around his face. Anywhere but into his eyes. But the moment she did, her eyes told it all and Freddie seen every ounce of it.

He ran his fingers through her curly hair. “You really want this?”

Simone nodded silently. Then, their eyes met again. She was lost in them, every emotion in her body being released. His smoldering looks were overwhelming her.

He swept her off her feet and laid her onto the bed. He went in for the kill and kissed her strongly. Their kiss led to hands touching every part of the other's body. They stripped each other of their remaining clothes, both ready for what was going to take place in the next moments. Simone prepared herself to give Freddie what she knew he wanted, and receive what she needed. With all that was going on, she could use a stress reliever.

Freddie let her sweet scent be his guide as he traveled down to the moist center between her legs. He gently kissed her inner thighs until he was face to face with her prized possession. He ran his tongue across her more sensitive area, causing her legs to quiver. A sensual gasp escaped from her mouth, turning Freddie on. He gripped her thighs as he continued to taste her. His tongue explored her sex while his lips sucked on her clit.

“Oooooooooooooooooh, Freeeeeeeeddddie,” Simone moaned. She tried to push his head from between her legs but he wouldn't budge. Her legs shook uncontrollably when she felt her first orgasm, a sensation she had not felt in a long time. “Aaaaaahweeee.”

Freddie pulled away from her and licked his lips. Round two. He grabbed his now rock-hard dick ready to take Simone's body to the next level. He opened her legs wider. He leaned over to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out one of the Magnums. He stared at her as he slid it on. She flashed a half of a smile.

He leaned down and kissed her as he placed his hand between Simone's legs. He massaged her clit with two fingers while slipping one inside of her. His manhood stiffened even more. He knew she was ready and so was he.

Simone's body tensed up when Freddie entered her. “Please, Freddie. Go slow, go slow,” she whispered in his ear.

“I got you,” he replied. He paused, just to absorb the moment. She felt incredible. She was a place that he never wanted to leave. He had waited for this moment a long time too. He wanted to make it pleasurable for her and worth it. He wanted Simone to know that she wasn't a quick bang he had been waiting to score. She was his future wife, and so he would sex her as such. He was not into giving oral but there was no doubt in his mind that he was going to make Simone an exception. She was different and he wanted her to know that.

He slowly slipped deeper inside her wet center. Tender from her tight hole being reopened, Simone bit her bottom lip and took the pain, and the pleasure that followed.

“You good?” he asked her as he continued his slow grind.

“Yes,” she moaned in ecstasy, her nails clawing into his back.

It turned him on so much that with each light scratch to his back he thrust harder inside her. Simone's legs quivered with the onset of a second orgasm. She let out a loud moan and let her juices ooze onto Freddie. Even through the condom, Freddie could feel her sex muscles contracting. Unable to hold on any longer, Freddie pulled out, snatched the condom off, and released himself onto her inner thighs. She watched, breathing heavily, as his cream spilled onto her leg. She reached out for him, grabbed hold of his dick, and began stroking it, to be sure that every ounce of his juices was released. Freddie tried to resist. His dick was still sensitive and her touched was weakening him. His body collapsed on top of hers. He himself was also winded. Simone cuddled him in her arms and planted a kiss on his forehead.

“I love you, Freddie Holmes,” she whispered.

“I love you back, ma. I needed that,” he replied.

Freddie found the strength to get up and go into the bathroom to grab them each a wet towel. He returned and wiped his juices off Simone's legs and her own from between hers. With the other towel, he wiped himself clean and returned the two towels to the bathroom.

“Did you want to shower?” he asked her.

When he didn't hear a response, he looked into the room to see why. The sight of her resting on the plush bed caused a huge grin to appear across his face. Rather than take a shower, he climbed onto the bed and nestled up under Simone. She scooted her voluptuous, round bottom back to him, and reached for his arm. Freddie pulled her in closer until they became one as the two drifted off into a dream world.

For the next few weeks, Freddie and Simone were inseparable. They spent the type of quality time together they hadn't spent in months. They went to the movies and out to dinner, or just took long walks, then watched bootleg DVDs on their jacked wide screen.

Freddie continued to spend the little money they had until it dwindled down into a no-win situation. He had to cop a half ounce and start his nickel-and-dime hustle with Slug as his mentor. Slug schooled him on the ins and outs of the dope game. They set up shop in the Old Projects and Freddie stayed true to his grind. His problem was his spending habits. As soon as he made it, he spent it, determined to look like a thousand dollars even if he really couldn't afford to. Freddie didn't slack on Simone either. He kept her dipped, hair and nails done.

Simone and Kiki became running partners if not close friends. Kiki turned her on to the best hairdresser in town, Nina Simone. And Simone still got sly looks and snide comments thrown her way. Not only because Freddie was her man, and no female had been able to violate that, but because of her gear. Freddie did what he could, keeping her in new shit, but his paper was too short to elevate her to diva status. But Simone didn't mind. The way things were going with Freddie and her, she'd wear rags and sweep floors to keep their love strong. She did try to get Freddie to stack paper instead of always spending it.

She pulled up in the '90 Accord Freddie had copped for $1,500. It wasn't much but it got them around. Freddie was in front of the white store shooting dice when she pulled up. He jogged over to the car, leaned through the window, and gave her a kiss.

“Freddie, I'm going to pay the bills,” she informed him.

He knew the monthly tab usually came to about $700. He gave her a grand. “Take that other three hundred and go to the jeweler and pay on my watch for me, boo.”

“Freddie,” she whined. They had been through all this before. “What about food? Hello? I need to go shopping, too,” she reminded him.

“Oh, I got that. This head owe me like two and some change. I'ma get it off they welfare card,” he replied.

“But still, Freddie. You know you don't need to be out here in the first place. Please, boo, we need to put somethin' up, you know?”

He gave her a shut up kiss. “After I cop my watch, okay? I gotta go. I'm killin' these niggas!” He jogged back to the dice game and Simone pulled off.

Freddie's conversation with Slug became redundant. He constantly heard, “Cuz, I'm tellin' you, this li'l nickel and dime ain't shit. We need a connect.” But for Freddie that was out. He was failing to see the bigger picture; that was, until the whole frame changed.

Freddie was out in front of the white store, waiting for Mandrell to come through and sell him an ounce. He was listening to a club mix in his CD Walkman, so he didn't even hear the jump-outs skid up and hop out on him.

The big, burly redneck and his even bigger black partner walked up on him and said, “Don't make us chase you; we get ugly when we're out of breath.”

Freddie's heart froze. This was his first run-in with the police since he had heard, “Freeze,” and fired, which was what landed him in the situation now confronting him. Fortunately, it was nighttime and he was wearing a fitted Yankees cap. But the fact remained that if he went to jail, it was a wrap. He didn't have any drugs on him and his gun was twenty-five feet away, under the bushes. All he had was $1,500 in his pocket. He tried to play it calm.

“Run? For what, yo? I'm chillin', waitin' on a cab,” Freddie replied.

The cops picked up his Northern accent so they automatically assumed he was a drug dealer. “Oh, you one of them New Yawk boys, huh? I been seein' you a lot lately. What's your name, boy?” the wannabe black officer asked, stepping toward Freddie.

Freddie weighed his options. They were too close for him to run. If he did and got caught, it was jail for sure. But if he stayed and sweated it out, maybe he could get away. “Antoine Jackson, Officer.”

“Jackson, huh?” the redneck asked, frisking his pockets. “You got any drugs or guns we need to know about?”

“No, sir,” Freddie answered, his hands raised.

“Any outstanding warrants?” he questioned.

“No, no, sir.”

“Oh! What's this?” the redneck said triumphantly, taking the wad of money from Freddie's pocket. He whistled. “Jackpot!”

If Freddie was gonna run, that would have been the time, but he hesitated, and his window of opportunity closed as quickly as it had opened.

The redneck officer handed the money to his partner, who counted it and said sarcastically, “Boy, it's over a thousand dollars here. What you doin' carryin' this kind of cash in a neighborhood like this?”

The redneck frisked Freddie again. “Take off your shoes, boy.”

Freddie obliged without hesitation and they found nothing.

“Well, Mr. Jackson, unless you have some kind of check stub, we're gonna have to confiscate this legal tender here,” the redneck drawled.

“Come on, yo,” Freddie whined. “After I cash my check, what I look like keepin' the stub?”

“Where you work?”

“In Raleigh,” Freddie shot back quickly. Too quick for the redneck's taste.

“Where in Raleigh?” the redneck drilled.

“Vs Everybody. It's a clothing store,” he lied. The store was really in Florence, South Carolina, but it was the first thing that came to Freddie's mind. The store was actually owned by one of his homies from back home who had migrated to South Carolina and opened up a customized clothing store.

“Well, unless you got that stub . . .” the redneck continued.

Freddie sighed. “Man, fuck it. I ain't got it, yo. So do what you gotta do.” He was sick to be losing all he had, but he'd be sicker if they tried to run him in. He was ready to get it over with.

“Just like I thought. You gave up too easy, New Yawk.” The redneck smiled. “Looka here, if I drive through here and see you again, for any reason, I won't be so understanding. You got me?”

Freddie nodded.

“You got me?” the redneck repeated, firmer than before.

“Yeah, I got you.” His head shook up and down rapidly.

The redneck flashed him a big smile, held his money up, and replied, “You have a nice night, ya hear? Come on, Willie.”

The two officers walked away and got into their car. Freddie's knees damn near went out. He was that close to making a break for his pistol because jail wasn't an option. When they drove away, reality set in.

He was dead broke and it was past the first of the month. Freddie walked the few blocks to the crib not knowing what to do. He could easily get money for the bills from Slug, or Mandrell could front him a pack, but he had been fingered. Now the jump-out boys knew his face, and he couldn't afford to get hit wit' murder one just because he got caught pitching.

Before he knew it, he was home and walking into the living room. Simone was making his favorite: lasagna. He could smell it, but his stomach was too sick to eat. He walked into the kitchen to a bubbly Simone. She was singing and cooking, and she turned around when he came in.

“Hey, boo!” she said like she hadn't seen him in days instead of hours. She kissed him passionately, but when he didn't return the fire, she looked him in the eyes. “Freddie, what's wrong?”

He sat down heavily at the kitchen table. “The fuckin' police, yo.”

At the sound of the word “police,” Simone's heart skipped a beat. “Where? What happened?” She was heading for panic mode. Now was not the time for her man to go to jail. She was prepared to run to the ends of the earth before she'd let Freddie get caught. “Do we have to leave?”

“Naw, yo. The muthafuckas just took my money! All my shit!” he exclaimed angrily. He was so mad he might've cried.

Simone kneeled down in front of him. “Baby, it could've been worse. We can get the money back. Besides”—she winked—“I got a little somethin' put up.”

Freddie looked into her smile like a new day had dawned.

“I told you and I told you to save, so I just took my own advice. Instead of getting my hair done, I just did it myself,” she said, shrugging.

He pulled her up onto his lap and hugged her tight, “Damn, you my heart, girl.”

“But, Freddie,” she said, pulling back from the hug, “you can't go back out there. Now they know your face.”

He had surmised as much, but he wasn't prepared for what Simone said next.

“Let me go.”

He couldn't believe his ears. He looked up into her eyes and they were dead serious. “What?”

“I said, let me go. Let me go out there. Nobody'll bother me because they'll know I work for you and Slug. And you can be somewhere close by but out of sight.”

Damn. She a ride or die chick for real.
“Naw, ma. I can't let you do that,” Freddie said, head hanging.

Simone put her hand under his chin and lifted it. “Well, I can't let you go back out there,” and she was serious. Then she took a deep breath. “They say when it rains it pours, right? Well, right now it's stormin'.” She tried to smile to lighten the mood.

“No doubt,” he agreed.

“No, I mean . . .” She stood up and walked to the stove, then turned back to Freddie. “Freddie, I got somethin' to tell you.”

He looked her in the face and didn't need to hear any more; he already knew. Freddie hopped out of his chair, joyfully. “Say word!” All the Jersey in him came out then.

Simone had been trying to figure out how to tell him all day. She didn't know how he would take it because she didn't know how she felt about it, so she planned a special evening and cooked a big dinner to break the news. Simone nodded slowly.

“Hell, yeah!” Freddie exclaimed proudly and picked Simone up, spinning her around. “I'ma be a daddy!” He picked her up again and kissed her like he was trying to eat her up. After a moment she spoke up.

“But, Freddie, with the way things are, do you think—”

He cut her off, firmly but sweetly. “Don't even think it, boo. I told you, regardless, we ain't gonna let nothin' stop us from living. And a baby? Yo, that's what living is all about!” He held her tight, squeezing the tears out of her eyes. “I want you to have my son, Simone. Nothing in the world will make me happier.”

She had needed to hear her man say just that. There was no way she wanted to have an abortion, and she didn't know what she would have done if he had suggested it. But hearing him say what he said gave her the strength to be happy.

“Thank you, Freddie,” she whispered through tears of joy. “You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that.”

He looked into her eyes. “You just take care of my little man. Let daddy worry about the rest.”

“Okay, daddy,” she cooed like a woman in love.