Put A Ring On It (22 page)

With a desperate look in her eyes, Jody shoved past Harlow and stalked out of the living room. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “This ain’t no game. I’m serious. We’re in some deep shit.”

Harlow felt a sudden sense of panic. Something was really wrong. She followed Jody’s frantic footsteps. Inside the kitchen,
Jody began opening drawers and cabinets, as she muttered incoherently.

Hustling off to the unknown with Jody was like the blind leading the blind, and Harlow was troubled by the prospect. She’d feel like she was in capable hands if Smoke was driving them to wherever they were going. “Is Smoke waiting outside for us?”

Jody shuddered and then gave a long sigh.

“Where’s Smoke?” No longer bold and brazen, Harlow’s voice was shaky.

“He’s dead.”

Harlow’s eyebrows shot upward. “Dead? No! He can’t be.”

Jody nodded, her face contorted in despair. “Yes, he is. Ronica’s dead, too. Everybody’s dead.”

Everybody?
Jody wasn’t making sense. Maybe there was hope that she was so high out of her head that she was talking trash. “How did
everybody
die?”

“Somebody threw one of those cocktail bombs through a window, and everybody that was buying or selling drugs inside the spot is dead.”

The
spot
was the crack house where Smoke did business. It was the place where Ronica and Jody smoked their dope. Harlow’s stomach dropped.

“I made it out a back window, right before the place went up in flames.”

Harlow covered her mouth in shock and disbelief. “Smoke is dead?”

“Yeah, baby. He’s gone.” Jody’s voice dropped to a low, mournful tone.

“How can you be sure?” Harlow held on to the hope that Jody was confused. In the short time she’d known Smoke, he’d become her guardian angel. To society, Smoke was nothing more than a
lowlife criminal, but he’d treated Harlow with more kindness than her own mother.

“They’re all dead, Harlow. I’m the only one that made it out of there. Now get your shit together,” Jody said impatiently. “We gotta get out before the cops come ’round, tryna get some answers outta me.”

Harlow folded her arms across her chest. “Let’s wait for the police. They might have some information. Smoke could still be alive.”

“He’s dead! Now get your shit and let’s go!”

Harlow began to choke up. Whimpering and crying, she said, “We can’t leave Smoke. He was so nice, Jody. We should go to the hospital and sit with him or something. We can’t just leave him.”

Jody gave Harlow a hard look. “Ain’t no more Smoke. That nigga blew up with the house. He went, poof! Now what part of that don’t you understand?” Jody started moving fast, rushing from room to room, flinging clothes and household items inside plastic bags.

“If you want all those nice outfits Smoke bought you, you better grip ’em up. I’m not gon’ be here when the cops or the drug boys show up.”

“Why would the drug boys come here?”she asked with apprehension.

Jody’s eyes slid guiltily away from Harlow’s face. “For you,” she mumbled.

“For me? What for?”

Jody shook her head like she wished she didn’t have to give Harlow an answer. “Skeeter might come for you. He’s the one who blew up the place.”

Apprehension was replaced with cold terror. Harlow covered
her mouth in horror at the mention of her tormentor’s name. “B—but Skeeter’s in jail,” she said, her eyes stretched wide with incredulity.

“They let him out. He found out that me and Smoke been kicking it together and he wanted revenge. Now hurry up, Harlow. We gotta get out of here. Do you want Skeeter to come ’round here and snatch you up?”

“No!” Harlow’s face went pale.

“Well, come on then. Let’s go. Skeeter has it in his head that he owns you.”

“Why does he think that?”

“His nut ass claims I sold you, but that’s some bullshit. Come on, Harlow; we gotta roll!”

Leaving with only the clothes on her back, Harlow trotted out of the apartment, clutching her mother’s arm.

A
fter work, Vangie stopped in the office at Yuri’s day care center. “How are you, Ms. Connelly,” she said to the owner. Ms. Connelly was a stern woman who charged ridiculously high rates when parents were late picking up their kids. And she charged a twenty-dollar late fee when day care payments were not paid on time.

Ms. Connelly looked up from the paperwork on her desk, and pulled off her reading glasses. “What can I do for you, Vangie?”

Vangie had extra money now but she didn’t want to waste it on a stupid late fee. “I wanted to talk to you about the late fee. Listen, with the holidays and everything, my whole schedule is off. Yuri’s father has been dropping him off in the morning and I honestly forgot to tell him to take care of the bill. Do I have to pay that extra charge?”

Ms. Connelly scanned the papers on her desk, and then looked up. “Yuri’s day care bill is paid in full. In fact, it’s paid for the next two weeks.”

“Oh! Shawn didn’t mention it.” Yuri’s day care bill had never been paid in advance before. Her money situation had improved drastically, yet she was only slightly happy.

“It’s good to see a hands-on father. That breed is becoming obsolete,” Ms. Connelly said.

“Yeah, Yuri’s dad is back in his life. So far, so good.” Vangie sounded pessimistic.

“Yuri appears to be benefiting. He’s a much better behaved
child. I didn’t know what had brought about the change, but I know now that he’s modelling his father’s behavior. Young boys need a strong male figure in their lives.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Vangie said dryly. “Okay, well…have a good evening, Ms. Connelly.”

“Good night, Vangie. Oh, by the way, that’s a real nice bag you’re carrying.”

Vangie glanced at her Louis Vuitton bag. “This is my Christmas gift from Yuri and his dad.”

Ms. Connelly looked at Vangie with curiosity. “It seems you like that beautiful bag out of obligation; like it’s a homemade gift glued together by Yuri and his father.” Ms. Connelly chuckled. “I’ll gladly take it off your hands.”

Vangie smiled sadly and waved goodnight. She wished she could explain her somber mood to herself. Though she wasn’t getting money like Harlow, her money concerns had subsided. Shawn’s participation in Yuri’s life was a dream come true. He told Vangie that he loved her morning, noon, and night. He sent her loving texts throughout the day, letting her know that she was constantly on his mind. He called her whenever he had a break, telling her barbershop gossip, or sharing the latest outrageous shenanigans on
Maury, The Steve Wilkos Show,
or even
Judge Judy.
Barbers watched TV all day long while cutting hair.

With so much loving attention from Shawn, and the break from financial stress, Vangie would have been in heaven a few months ago. But it was too little, too late. She wanted more. She wanted a commitment from Shawn. Nothing short of marriage would do.

She was living a lie. Pretending to be the happy hooker in the bedroom while agonizing inside. Shawn was torturing her. She loved him with all her heart, had never stopped, but she was
definitely starting to resent him.
Selfish motherfucker! Giving me what he wanted me to have for Christmas. I want a fucking ring and he knows it. Just fucking marry me, Shawn,
she grumbled to herself as she walked Yuri to her car.

“Can we stop at McDonald’s?” Yuri asked.

“No!” Vangie yelled. “We have a ton of leftover food in the fridge and you’re asking me about McDonald’s? Boy, you’re about as unreasonable as your father,” she snapped.

“Huh? My Daddy likes KFC better than McDonald’s.”

“He liked McDonald’s a long time ago, before you were born. He wanted it all the time,” Vangie lied. That crack she’d made about Yuri being as bad as Shawn had sort of slipped out. Vangie didn’t mean to complain about Shawn in front of Yuri. Now that Yuri was happy and secure in his father’s love, she never wanted to portray Shawn in an unflattering light ever again.

She clearly wasn’t concealing her resentment toward Shawn very well. In the future, she’d have to keep her thoughts to herself and monitor what came out of her mouth with regard to Shawn.

In Yuri’s mind, their new family life was perfect. The last thing Vangie wanted to do was burst Yuri’s little bubble of familial happiness.

“Hey, baby. I’m stuck here at the shop. Can’t leave anytime soon,” Shawn said over the phone.

“Why not?” Vangie couldn’t hide her disappointment. She had finally gotten Yuri to bed and she was gearing up to work some more sex magic on Shawn.

“It’s crazy in here. Crowded as shit. Looks like I’m going to be cutting hair all night.”

She glanced at the racy red thong and bra set that was laid out on the bed. And this time she’d planned to wear stretchy boots to enhance her sex appeal and seduce Shawn into proposing marriage.

“You don’t have to rush around in the morning. I’ll take Yuri to school. Okay, baby?”

“Okay,” she mumbled.

“Love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said in a solemn tone.

“Why do you sound so sad?”

“I had something planned.”

“Oh, yeah? Does it involve sexy lingerie?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Damn! Which bra you got on?”

“I was gonna put on the red one.”

“Mmm. You look good in red. Put it on for me. Take a picture and send it.”

“No way!”

“Why not? Come on, Vangie. I need to see those big titties to help me get through the night.”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t want my half-nekkid ass splashed all over the Internet.”

“How would that happen? You think you got celebrity status?” Shawn said, laughing.

“No, but a person doesn’t have to famous to become an Internet sensation. I’m just saying…I can’t risk having my boobage being seen by anyone except you.”

“I’ll be kissing on that boobage as soon as I get home.”

“I miss you,” she said, sounding sad and disappointed.

“I miss you, too. Yo, a customer just sat in my chair. I gotta go.”

“Okay.”

“Cheer up, baby. I’m getting this money. For us. You dig?”

“I know. I’ll see you in the morning.”

After she and Shawn hung up, Vangie put the lingerie back inside the drawer. Her efforts thwarted, she crawled into bed with her mouth drooped downward.

With nothing else to do, she clicked on a recorded episode of
My Big Friggin’ Wedding. Where do they find these couples?
she wondered. None of the loud-mouth women seemed to be marriage material. All of the future husbands were losers or punks who took all kinds of crap off horrible and undeserving women. The show was irking her and making her angrier with Shawn, so she switched to
Amazing Wedding Cakes.
This show that featured civilized couples and the creation of fabulous wedding cakes was fun to watch. Vangie plumped up her pillows, getting comfy. Soon after the opening credits, she nodded off to sleep.

But she was awakened by an intrusion of the worst kind.

Shawn was behind her, hands cinching her waist. Slobbering on the back of her neck, breathing hard as he pumped dick into her.

She hated it when he took the pussy without permission. It felt like rape. Fucking a sleeping woman was perverted, and similar to necrophilia.

Vangie squinted at the bedside clock. Four-ten in the morning. She groaned in discontent. A mere month ago, Vangie used masturbation as her only sexual outlet. Now she had the perfect man—her gorgeous baby daddy, and yet she was miserable.

It was okay when she initiated sex because she had a motive. But when Shawn came home acting like a pussy bandit, she felt demeaned and aggravated. She’d probably have a totally different outlook if she and Shawn were legally bound. Pussy thievery in the wee hours of the morning wouldn’t seem like such a heinous crime if they were married.

“You woke, baby?” Shawn said in a husky voice.

She grunted in anger, but Shawn didn’t pick up on her irritated tone.

“Mmm, your pussy is real juicy, baby. Were you dreaming about me?”

She groaned again, a sound of distress.

Thinking that she was enjoying the sneak attack, Shawn grabbed her titties and squeezed them as he thrust deeper, growling like an animal. “Knowing I’m coming home to all this good pussy, keeps me going while I’m at work.” He nipped her on the shoulder.

“Ow!”
Damn, now he’s biting me. Acting like a dog in heat.

“Sorry, baby. I can’t help myself. You got that gushy goody. Makes me lose control.”

Gushy goody! Shawn, you need to shut the fuck up. If my shit’s so damn good, then how come you won’t marry me!

“Love this pussy!” Shawn exclaimed as he escalated the tempo of his stroke.

Can we get this over with?
Shawn was behaving in such a primitive manner, Vangie was disgusted. There was nothing loving or sexy about his guttural moans and desperate penile thrusts. Less than two weeks ago, she was madly in love with Shawn, but now all she could think about was how hurt she was by his unwillingness to make an honest woman of her. How angry she was by his stubborn refusal to marry her. She was filled with so much resentment, it seemed that every word out of Shawn’s mouth was beginning to irk her.