TYCE (13 page)

“Hell yeah, I’m starvin’. What you fix?”

“Chicken alfredo, salad, and garlic bread.” She stated proudly.

Raising his thick eyebrows with surprise, “Girl I didn’t know you could cook.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I’m a woman of many talents Mr. Adkins.”

Tyce wasted no time and sat at the chair in front of the biggest plate. He looked down at the food and realized that no woman had ever fixed him dinner in his own home before. His eyes took in the view of the sexiest chef he’d ever seen. This culinary cutie had her hair in a ponytail, a “
Betty Boop”
tank top on and black track shorts that were too

tired to run down the rest of her thighs. Her skin almost perfectly matched the maple wood cabinets mounted behind her. Angelique grabbed some pepper out the cabinet and joined him at the table. She snatched her fork and started to dig in when Tyce stopped her.

“Why don’t we say prayer first?”

Pleasantly surprised, Angelique released her fork and bowed her head.

Tyce cleared his throat, “Thanks for what you gave us to get here and what you give us to get a lil’ further…Amen.”

“I thank YOU for the food Angelique ‘cuz God aint the one who turned my stove on.” He joked.

Tyce began to eat silently, concentrating on each bite. He made sure to get the chicken, sauce, and noodles on the fork together. She watched him as he ate.

He looked up from his plate and smiled, “You know you don’t have to bite your lip if you’re hungry.”

Angelique didn’t notice that she had been nibbling on her bottom lip while staring at Tyce. He had a sexy frown on his forehead; the kind of expression a man gets when he’s seriously eating. He stuck his tongue out to lick the sauce that had crept into

the corners of his lips. His right bicep flexed a little as he took each bite making the tattoos on his arm do a two-step.

“I was jus’ makin’ sure you liked the food. It’s

been a while since I was in the kitchen. How is it?”

“This food is the bomb girl; I think you got some Italian in you.” He said grabbing another bread stick.

After dinner, they sat on the sofa, sipping “
Corona’s”
and watching TV. Tyce was looking at the screen but his mind was elsewhere. He turned the volume down and faced Angelique. His eyes locked in on hers as he spoke,

“I heard from my man that Biz got a hit out on me. I’m willing to bet that you’re on that list too. They been all around the city asking questions and shit. I know you probably expected it like I did, so now it’s official. But don’t sweat it; I got you and I’ma handle Biz and his
“Labor Ready”
niggas.”

That was the end of that conversation; Tyce turned the volume back up and switched channels to a football game. Angelique sunk back in the soft leather couch, took a swig of her beer, and simply said, “Ok.”

Dissatisfaction

      The “
Bentley”
looked like a black panther crouching in the shadows of the night. Biz and Bruce reclined in the supple seats waiting silently for their guests. A tan sedan pulled up next to them moments later. TJ and Lincoln got out the car, moving in slow motion toward the already parked “
Bentley.”
Their molasses movements were a deliberate attempt to make them even later to the scheduled meeting. Biz took notice of their slow pace and became increasingly agitated. On cue, Bruce hit the unlock button as the two men approached nonchalantly. Once inside the whisper of the engine running and easy breathing was all that was heard, Biz was the first to speak, making his anger take a back seat; he spoke calmly,

“You know…I’m very disappointed. I’m used to high quality shit. I don’t pay for something that isn’t worth the money.” He stared straight ahead and continued, “I expect to get what I pay for; and when I don’t, it really pisses me off. Now for instance the sales men told me that “
Rolex”
made the absolute best timepiece available. He told me my hard-earned money couldn’t buy a better watch. Now I believe he lied to me…’cuz this watch says it’s eleven thirty eight. And you niggas were supposed to be here at 11. So I’ma blame it on this 30,000-dollar piece of shit watch…and not you two. So I’ma take this watch back to the sales man tomorrow and shove it up his ass so he can take a shit 38 minutes early from now on.” Biz eyed the two men in the dark.

Bruce grinned to himself, amused at his boss’s way with words. Lincoln shifted in the back seat and faced Biz. Before he could speak Biz cut him off,

“Why is that bitch not in my storage room tied up naked and bleeding; and why is Tyce still above ground?”

“Look man, if it was that easy to snuff the nigga out you woulda did it ya self. If you don’t think we workin’ then send us home boss man. Personally, I don’t mind a hundred thousand dollar paid vacation to lovely California. How ‘bout you TJ, you mind?” “Hell naw, it’s a helluva a lot warmer than Detroit.” He smiled.

Lincoln reasoned, “Jus’ be patient old timer, we’ll punch his clock soon enough and “
FedEx”
your ex bitch to your front door.”

Biz reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigar. He rolled it around in his manicured hand,

“I’ma have three of these next time I see you, we gon celebrate a job well done. Now let me get back to work, so ya’ll can get back to work.”

“You shouldn’t worry so much Biz; it’s bad for your heart.” Lincoln joked. “Relax a bit…they aint easy to find but they aint hard to find either, we gettin’ close.”

The brief meeting was over and the hired guns exited the car. TJ started to walk away but turned around and motioned for Bruce to roll down the window. Bruce hit the button again and TJ poked his round head through the window causing his thick platinum chain to clink against the outside glass,

 He smiled letting his gold tooth shine, “By the way…nice watch.”

Bruce rolled the window up trying to catch TJ’s neck but he was too fast. He ducked out just in time and jogged back to the “
Camry.”

“Jus’ gimme’ the green light boss and I’ll choke the jokes out them muthafukas!”

“Jus’ be cool. Save your energy killer, ‘cuz you

might have to choke out three niggas.”

Both cars sped of simultaneously into the night. Once the “
Bentley”
was back on the freeway, Biz took his cell phone out and dialed a number.

“Hey babe, how you doin’?”

“Hey Biz…I’m good sweetie, and you?” The voice sang back.

“Oh you know me, jus’ handling my business for a living. Speaking of business, do you have anything for me?”

“You jus’ cut to the chase huh; a girl can’t get no love?” She teased.

“You know I love you but there’ll be plenty of time for that, I jus’ don’t like loose ends baby you know that.” He reassured.

“Yeah yeah promises promises.” She joked. “I’ve been workin’ on it for you baby. You should of hired me instead of those tourist niggas you got, I won’t hold that against you but it’s gonna cost you. I’m thinkin’ a candy red convertible with a glove compartment full of green white men.” She said with enthusiasm. “Come by tonight and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Biz, permit a smile to stretch across his smooth lips as he instructed his driver toward their next destination.

“I’m on yo ass Tyce.” He whispered to himself as he stared out the window admiring the twinkling city lights.

Instigation

      The vodka bottle sat empty on the coffee table. Tasha was patiently waiting for Omar to return from where ever he was. She’d been missing in action for about a week and now it was time to check up on things. She stretched out on the lengthy couch and accepted the buzz the alcohol was offering. A half hour into her high the front door opened as Omar walked in. He took off his leather jacket and draped it on the back of the dining room chair. He had a lot on his mind and wasn’t in the mood for Tasha’s tantrums tonight. He grabbed a beer and prepared for the drama.

“Long time no see.” He started, “You done fuckin’ with them play ground niggas, now you wanna come back and holla like shit is all sweet. Why don’t you U turn yo ass back around and tell that nigga you on your way.”

“Don’t start O. I wasn’t with no nigga, I was at my girl’s house! I only left ‘cuz you left. You know not to bring no disrespectful ass bitches up in here!” She yelled sitting up.

Omar took another long sip of his beer and sat directly across from her. His diamond studs glittered as he shook his head from side to side. He wiped the beer from his thin mustache and licked his dark lips.

“First of all, stop yelling in my shit. And second, stop lying in my shit. I don’t give a fuck who you was wit’, jus’ be real about the shit. If you gonna be here then be here! Aint no back and forth shit jus’ ‘cuz you irritated over a bitch!”

Tasha stood up like a mannequin in a display window letting Omar get a first-class view. She purposely wore his favorite outfit, a tight see through dress with a matching thong minus the bra. She let her titties do as they pleased as she moved closer to him. She expertly used her body to diffuse the bomb in the room. Tasha knew Omar was weak when it came to pussy, all she had to do was show him the present, and he was happier than a boy on Christmas morning.

“Look baby, I don’t wanna fight…I miss you. I jus’ got upset when that Angelique bitch showed up. You know I can get a little possessive when it comes to my man. I’m sorry O.” She said putting her foot in his crotch.

She made little circles with her toes and teased his

dick. Omar relaxed a bit enjoying the feeling, Tasha knew how to handle him, but he would never admit it. He put his smooth head against the cushion and finished the last of his beer. Tasha had him right where she wanted him.

“You seem stressed O, what’s wrong? I wanna be here with you, I wasn’t fuckin’ with nobody…you don’t have to worry about that. Baby the last thing I want to do is bring you drama.”

Omar caressed the back of her calf and looked up at her, “It aint that Tasha, I jus’ got some shit on my mind.”

“Some shit like what?” She asked repositioning herself on his lap.

“Jus’ some shit wit’ Tyce. We workin’ on some new shit…well I thought
we
was workin’ on some new shit but he got some other muthafuckas involved.”

“He trying to cut you out!” She blurted.

“Naw, he aint like that, I jus’ aint know it was other niggas invited. He aint tell me shit. Tyce jus’ do what the fuck he wanna do and I’m jus’ sposed to ride with it; he don’t give a fuck what I think. I’ve been missing money for years fuckin’ with his no dope policy, a nigga coulda’ been extra rich by now.” He frowned.