Payback Ain't Enough (7 page)

After yanking on the door, she snapped, “Briggen, open the damn door.” I just stared at her and smiled, which pissed her off more. “Open it now,” she huffed.

“I will. Once you talk to me,” I said.

“Briggen, you know what? Fuck you! You had the last two weeks to talk, but you didn’t, so fuck you. We ain’t talking until I’m ready to talk,” she said, arms waving around frantically.

Well, damn! My baby was really upset. “I told you I was going through some things,” I responded. It was no longer drizzling; it was full-tilt raining.

“So you couldn’t talk to me?” she asked pausing. “Who am I to you, Briggen? I mean, you’ve been gone most of the time and when you do come home, you act like I’m not even here.”

I just sat there looking at her.

“Exactly. Now give me my keys so I can go out,” she ordered.

“C’mon, Shan. For real. When have you known me to talk when I’m stressin’? Give a nigga a break,” I started to plead my case.

Shan laughed. “That’s the best you can do? That’s your best apology?” She rushed me and was actually swinging at me. I grabbed the back of her thighs so she couldn’t move, holding her in place. I then bit her nipple through that cute little trench dress.

“Briggen! Stop! Get off me!” she yelled and tried to push me back. “I still can’t believe that you just tried to spit that tired-ass game. It’s been over three weeks that you haven’t had shit to say to me, and now, all of a sudden, you want to talk. Well, guess what, nigga? I’m good now. So let me go!” Just then, the thunder made it sound as if the sky opened up and downpoured buckets of water. I didn’t let that stop me. I slid my hands up to her ass cheeks, glad that she had a thong on that plump, pregnant ass.

After a few minutes of squirming and struggling, I think she had given up the fight. “It’s raining on my outfit.” Shan started crying. I continued to nibble on her nipple through her dress. “I don’t believe you. Get off me. Stop it. I’m getting all wet.”

“I like it when you’re all wet,” I said as I moved to the other nipple to give it the same attention.

“Briggen, let me go.” She was still crying, and we were both now soaked from the rain. I eased my hand between her inner thighs. It was hot and moist. I rubbed her pussy and slid a finger inside her. “Yeah, you’re wet, alright,” I told her as my dick jumped. I was ready to put in some work.

“Briggen, my hair, my dress, my makeup. I wanted to go out. Now, I’m all wwweeeet!” she cried. “Briggen! We are ooooutside!” she moaned, unable to ignore my two fingers all up in her. I plunged deeper, and she spread her legs wider. She moaned again as she gripped my shoulders.

As Briggen flicked across my G-spot, my head fell back, allowing the warm rain to mix with my tears. Hell, I had been pissed at him for a while. But getting my coochie finger fucked and enjoying his head game during a thunderstorm had me on fire and caused me to forget why I was angry at him in the first damn place. Thank God for high fences because I didn’t want nothing to stop him from whizzing me to cloud nine. “Don’t stop,” I moaned. But he did, and when he stood, he took me with him and lifted me onto the wet patio table. I wasted no time wrapping my legs around his back while he unzipped his pants.

“Grab ’em,” Briggen directed. His voice was hoarse and raspy, which meant that he was ready to do some serious fucking, and that made my pussy that much hotter and wetter.

I heard and obeyed. I grabbed his dick, and it was just as I liked it—long, hard and thick. I ran the head back and forth, up and down and over my wet pussy. I could feel the head soaking up my juices. The nigga started groaning. Then he began to babble. “I’m sorry, baby.” His lips found mine and as he kissed me, I kept rubbing my pussy and clit with the head of his dick. I hadn’t left cloud nine. Our kiss was mixed with the warm rain that was falling from the sky.

My three thousand dollar dress, thousand dollar sandals and twenty-two hundred dollar handbag were probably ruined. I couldn’t even buy them again. Nor could I recall exactly at what point it came off of my arm. But at that moment, I didn’t give a damn. My baby could no longer take my teasing and pushed me back onto the table. My eyes were shut tight as the rain beat down on me, stimulating my nipples. I anticipated his dick. He then pushed himself deep inside me. I’m glad it was thundering because when he got all the way in we both got loud moaning and groaning. He put each one of my legs over his shoulders and began to stroke, hitting my pussy from all angles, not missing a spot. It felt as if his dick had gotten fatter and longer since the last time we fucked.

“Brig—” I moaned. Yup, this nigga was Brig in the bed, because he was
that
nigga when he fucked me. But I married Calvin. “Brig,” I moaned again as I felt tingly sensations from
my toes up to my pussy, and then my muscles started clamping around his thick dick and I began to cum. “Oooooohhhh, Briggen, damn,” I heard myself scream.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asked me as he kept his hard dick deep inside of me. I was spent and could only nod my head yes. “This is what I wanted too.” He grabbed my ass so he could get in deeper. He hit the bottom about three times, and that’s all he could take, and he started cumming and beating the shit outta my pussy.

I lay there spent, my legs still up on his shoulders. We both were trying to catch our breath. I was praying that the table wouldn’t collapse under our serious fucking and come crashing to the ground.

We finally made it into the house, soaking wet, and finished what we started outside. What a way to argue and talk. If that’s how we would be conversing, then I didn’t mind him not speaking to me for weeks.

A few hours later, even though Keeta was pissed off at me, she still brought Li’l Peanut home and didn’t sweat me about why I didn’t come and get him.

I THOUGHT I WAS
dreaming when I looked at the clock. It was ten minutes to five in the morning, and we were awakened by banging on the door. To my surprise, Briggen got up and started getting dressed, as if he was expecting whoever was banging wildly on our door. I looked out the window and much to my dismay it looked like the Feds and every other law enforcement agency in Detroit surrounded our house. The white with blue striped Detroit police cars, narc vehicles with tinted windows. The white men emerging from the vehicles
wore dark jackets with FBI, DEA, and ATF printed on them. This was definitely a raid.

“What the fuck is going on, Briggen?” I asked.

“Just throw a robe on. They are here for me, not you.”

“Here for you? What did you do? Kill somebody?” I questioned.

“Naw, I ain’t kill nobody.”

“What, you robbed a bank?”

“Shan, chill out. You know damn well I didn’t rob no bank.” He handed me a card. “Call my attorney and let him know they got me.”

I tossed the card onto the dresser yelling, “Nigga, I know your ass is not still hustling!”

“Somebody mentioned my name on some shit. It ain’t nothin’,” he said, cool as a cucumber.

“Nothing, Briggen? Nothing? The Feds are outside! They don’t just come to your house at five o’clock in the morning for
nothing
,” I screamed.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” he said, as if he was talking about the fuckin’ movie of the week.

“Later? Later, Briggen? You better pray that there is a fuckin’ later, nigga! What is happening to you? I swear I don’t know what is up with your ass anymore,” I hollered as I hugged myself and tried to stop the tears from rolling down my face. Why does every person I care about get taken away from me? “Why all of a sudden it looks like you have all of these secrets? What’s happening with us?”

He started to answer but the banging sounded as if the walls were about to come down. He turned and walked out of the bedroom. “I’m coming. Don’t break down my fucking door!”
he yelled as he raced down the steps. I stood at the top of the stairs watching as he opened the door and was tackled to the floor. They swarmed in like roaches with weapons drawn.

“All of this ain’t necessary. I’m dressed and ready to go,” he yelled at them as they put him in handcuffs. “My attorney already told me that you were coming. All y’all had to do was tell me to come turn myself in. Y’all ain’t gotta go through all of these theatrics,” I heard Briggen say.

“Who else is here?” one of the agents asked, ignoring what he had just said.

“Just my wife and eighteen-month-old son. But you already know that. Y’all been watching the house for the past month.”

“When were you going to tell me, Briggen?” I screamed.

“Shut up, ma’am, and stay there!” The officer directed his order at me. He had the nerve to have his gun pointed in my direction.

“You shut up!” I snapped. “You’re in my house!” I didn’t care about his gun. I then turned on my husband. “Briggen, you knew this shit. When were you going to tell me?” I kept the answers and questions flowing.

“Is the house clean, Mr. Thompson?” the agent asked as per protocol.

“C’mon now. Y’all know it is,” Briggen said, as if it were a silly question.

“Briggen!” I stammered.

“Shan, not now. Calm down and go check on the baby,” he yelled just as our son started to cry.

“Then when?” I shot back.

“After he gets out in twenty,” a female agent said, coming up the steps.

The small white woman instructed me to lead her to the bedroom with the baby. I did, and we remained in there until after they searched the house from top to bottom.

After they finished, I stood in shock at the top of the stairs as I watched the Alphabet Soup of law enforcement file out of my home with my husband in handcuffs.

CHAPTER FIVE

I had Li’l Peanut with me and was now banging on Keeta’s front door. As soon as she opened it, I barged in.

“Well, damn. Good morning to you, too,” she said snidely.

“It is not a good morning,” I snapped.

“Why? You and Brig having a lover’s spat?” she giggled.

“He’s locked up, Keeta. They came and got him this morning.” I stormed by her and headed for the living room.

“What do you mean they came and got him? Who? For what?” she asked as she followed behind me.

I sat Li’l Peanut down. “You tell me. And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Keeta! The fucking Feds.” I glared at her with my hands on my hips, waiting for a response.

“So what did they say?” she asked dumbly.

“Nothing to me other than shut up and he will see me in twenty years.”

Keeta waved that off. “Girl, don’t pay that shit no mind. They always tryna scare somebody. He ain’t gettin’ no twenty years.” She said as if she really knew what she was talking about.

I looked at her nonchalant attitude and went off. “You know what? All y’all are a fucking trip. You sat in my face knowing the whole time what he was doing. All that bullshit about let’s get out, and you need to do some shit for yourself. Bitch, you phony as hell.” I looked at her with disgust.

“What the fuck you expect me to do? That’s you and Briggen’s business. Don’t get mad at me. You the one fucking him. You should have more answers than I do,” she replied, trying to turn the shit on me, then sat down.

I wanted to curse her ass out, but she had a point. Here I was, standing in the middle of her living room going off about my man. I was disgusted with myself.

“So what’s your next move? Did you call his lawyer?” she asked leisurely as if this shit was normal.

“I left a message,” I told her.

“Aiight then. Rudy will handle it,” she said with confidence, then got up and walked into the kitchen.

I watched this bitch calmly go into the refrigerator and get an orange. “You want one?” I glared at her while she stood there and started peeling it.

That was the last straw. “So everyone knows but my dumb ass? This nigga doing dirt right under my nose, and I don’t even know it. Everybody looking at me as the poor little dumb bitch he playing house with.” I chuckled and shook my head. “So this means he still got all of them hoes still working for him? Sharia, Mia and God only knows who the fuck else! I’m so fuckin’ dumb!”

“Shan, you know I don’t get into my cousin’s business like that. To be honest with you, I thought you knew.” She held her arms and shrugged, and I wanted to hawk and spit in her face.

“The only thing I do know is y’all muthafuckas are crooked as hell. C’mon, Anthony, Mommy gotta go.” I was sorry for coming out of character like that in front of my son. Even if he was only eighteen months, I shouldn’t have been cussing in front of him like that. I couldn’t even look at that bitch. I had to get out of there before they ended up hauling my ass to jail.

I grabbed my baby and left. I had to finish mapping out my game plan. I did know that I was sick and tired of being played as some dumb, stupid, naïve, stay-at-home goody-two-shoes broad, while everybody around me was doing dirt behind my back as well as right under my nose.

I needed to go by this bitch Mia’s house. I didn’t have reason enough before, but I damn sure had reason enough now. It was still early in the morning so I knew the ho would still be home. I knew that she’d be surprised that I knew where she lived, I felt like I needed to shake things up, use this opportunity to let this bitch know who the boss was. I’d tell her I came to pick up some money. How she responds will let me know if Calvin is still fuckin’ with her and if he is still out here living foul, despite the fact that he told me he wasn’t. I drove to her house taking the scenic route so I could get my mind right. But that ended up taking me damn near an hour.