Pretty Kings Read online

  “Do you know how much I miss your fucking ass?” Kevin asks. He flashes his white teeth and I feel like a schoolgirl all over again. “You got me out here in LA, geeking without you, baby girl.”

  I’m sweating again. Sometimes I hate the physical control Kevin has over my body. He owns me. “Stop playing with me, boy. You know you getting tired of me by now.” I look at my reflection on the gold mirror on the ceiling, which is surrounded by diamonds. I look younger than I feel. “I don’t look the same way I use to when we first met.”

  Kevin frowns. “Listen, I done told you about saying dumb shit like that to me. You thirty-six years old yet you over there looking like you twenty-four or something. That’s why I don’t let you leave the house unless one of the Kennedy family members are with you. I don’t want a nigga getting the wrong idea,” he pauses. “You belong to me. So stop with all that dumb shit. We been together too long, Bambi.”

  I feel guilty. “I’m serious, Kevin,” I tell him trying not to pout. I hold the iPad firmly in my hand so I can focus on his face. “I feel different now than when I did when we first met.”

  “When you talk like that you make me feel like I’m not doing my job as a man. Like I don’t do everything possible to show you how much I love you.”

  My mouth trembles and I bite down into the flesh of my bottom lip. It’s a habit that my son Noah picked up from me. “You do—”

  “Then stop fucking with me,” he yells interrupting me. “We been through our shit, Bambi. And, I can never stop apologizing for my part in our problems, but you my bitch. You my queen. And, I need you to hold your head up, and recognize that shit. It’s really time to start doing that.”

  Kevin always knows what to say. He’s a master at words…a regular Martin Luther King Jr. Sometimes I think I come down on myself every now, and again just to get one of his pep talks. His speeches are legendary. He’s good for talking a lot of smooth shit.

  “I got you, baby,” I say. I grab the iPad and walk toward the living room. “Where are you now?” I ask looking at the background. “It looks like you in a casino or something.”

  “I am,” he chuckles.

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to be gambling anymore.”

  “I know, baby. But, you know how my brothers are. We just—,” before he could finish his statement Ramirez, Camp and Bradley come into view. They are members of the Kennedy Kings.

  Bradley is holding a chocolate cupcake with a yellow candle stuffed in the center. Camp’s black eye is as dark as it was when they left home five days ago, but he still looks great. Boxing every week for a hobby will do that kind of shit to your face, but Camp never seems to care.

  I’m looking at the richest niggas in America on my iPad right now. Although we have a few cars and this house, being a Kennedy family member actually means leading a low-key lifestyle to the outside world. We stay off the radar. To prove my point, we all live in this house despite having enough money to buy several of our own homes. Maybe we are all addicted to one another. A Kennedy Cult. I love every one of them, and my stomach flutters.

  I’m smiling at all of them until they sing, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Bambi, happy birthday to you.”

  Tears pour out of my eyes. I feel guilty. And, since they all can sing, I can’t help but feel like the luckiest bitch in the world. Each one of these niggas is fine. The type of dudes you have to look at three times when they walk down the street. Add money to the equation and it makes them addictive. Of course Kevin is the loudest, and most excited out of all of them.

  When they are done Ramirez says, “We love you, sis. And we’re so proud of you for everything you’ve gone through and accomplished. We know it hasn’t been easy.”

  No it’s not my birthday. Today is much deeper, and although I try to forget each year, for the past five years, Kevin always remembers. I am a drunk. Well, I was a drunk. But, I’ve been sober for five of the seventeen years we’ve been together, and it’s been a rough road. Real rough. Kevin says it’s my birthday each year at this time because in his mind I am born again. My alcohol problem is so bad, that Kevin won’t allow anybody to bring anything with alcohol in the house. No mouthwash. No cough syrup. No nothing.

  Although I’m sober, don’t think I don’t desire alcohol. There are five things I love in the world. My husband, our sons, my sisters-in-law and my parents, but alcohol is first. If people saw the things I did when I was in the military, they’d understand why I turned to the bottle for emotional support.

  “I swear I got the best family ever!” I proclaim looking at their faces. “Ain’t nobody fucking with my clique.”

  “You know what it is, mama,” Bradley says. “The Kennedy family or death.”

  When the front door open, my three beautiful sisters-in-law pour inside. Scarlett’s red hair bounces as she walks in arm and arm with Denim. Scarlett’s white skin seems flushed, probably because of the frigid temperatures outside. The winter hasn’t been a joke this year. In the back of Scarlett and Denim is Race followed by Kevin’s cousin Cloud. Cloud is the only male of the Kennedy family not involved in the drug business. The four of them smell like they’ve been outside, and I smile because I’ve always loved that scent on Kevin’s coat when he comes home.

  “Please tell me you talking to the boys,” Denim yells running to the couch to look into my iPad. Her naturally short curly hair seems extra ruby red today. She’s beautiful.

  “Yes, I am. But, I have a feeling it won’t be for long,” I say.

  When Denim sees her husband Bradley’s face on my iPad, she plops down and screams, “Oh, my God! I miss the shit out of my dick! When you coming back,” she snatches the iPad out of my hand. “I miss you so much, daddy. Jasmine misses her father too! You gotta come back soon.”

  “Damn, bitch,” I say moving toward the arm on the couch when her butt bone slams into my thigh. “You almost broke my leg trying to get at him.” I keep telling my sisters to get the video service on their iPhones and iPads, but they never see the value in it until the Kings are out of town.

  As I look at Denim’s light skin cheeks turn maroon, I laugh. She’s so pretty, then again, all my sisters are. Her custom made brown leather jacket squeaks as she gets into position on the sofa. And, the tattoos on her neck peak out from the collar. Every place on her body is tatted up. Denim’s body was in tip-top shape, but Bradley made it clear that her perfectly round ass is what had him going.

  “Don’t be totally selfish,” Race says in her squeaky voice as she flops down on the floor. She combs her shoulder length brown hair back with her fingers, and her hair gets tangled in the 20-carat wedding ring. When she gets situated, she leans on Denim’s knee and looks at the iPad. “I want to talk to my husband too,” she continues referring to Ramirez.

  I move out of their way, but it won’t be for long. I have to see Kevin’s face again before he gets off of the video call. While Denim and Race talk to their husbands, I realize someone is missing. Scarlett. When I look back to see where she is, I notice she’s gone. And when I peek at my iPad, Camp, who is her husband, is also gone. Something is up with them, but what?

  While I wonder how Scarlett is doing, Cloud walks up to me on the sofa and looks down at me. He’s 6’4 inches tall, and his skin is the color of melted Hershey Kisses. His height is how he got the nickname Cloud. They say he’s so tall his head touches the sky. Although he’s not in the dope game, he owns a popular auto body shop in Washington, D.C, and has that dope boy steez. But, as handsome as he is, Cloud did me wrong, and I will never forgive him. I can hold a grudge longer than the meanest bitch you can imagine, and everybody who loved me knew it.

  “How you doing, sexy?” Cloud says to me.

  I ignore him, and turn my head.

  He plants a soft kiss on my lips, and I wipe it away. Any other time I wouldn’t mind his affections, but I don’t like him right now. I haven’t liked him for some weeks now.

  “You gonna stay
mad at me forever, Bambi?” He asks looking down at me again.

  Silence.

  “Bambi, you gotta talk to me at some point,” Cloud continues as if we are alone. As if my husband is not on my iPad and my sisters are not next to me on the couch.

  “What I tell you about kissing my wife?” Kevin jokes from the iPad. I guess he saw him.

  Cloud clears his throat and says, “I been told you I’m gonna steal Bambi from you. I’m just waiting on her to realize she belongs to me,” Cloud says jokingly.

  “Is that gonna be before or after they find your body in a ditch?” Kevin responds. They always play back and forth about who loved me the most but this time both of them sounded serious.

  Eventually Cloud joins the call with my sisters and when they are all done, it’s just Kevin and me alone on the iPad.

  “Finally,” I say to him when I look down at his face. “Now I get to talk to you in peace.”

  “Go to the bathroom,” he says in a sexy voice. “I want to see that juicy pussy before I go handle business.”

  When Kevin asks me to do something, he only has to ask once. I hustle to the bathroom, sit on the toilet and remove my pink panties. Before showing him my box, I flip the iPad over and toss the menstruation pad in the trashcan. I was on the last day of my cycle and should be good. But, even if I were bleeding, Kevin would still want to see my box. He’s even eaten me out before while on my cycle.

  When I was done prepping, I grab my iPad, sit on the toilet, open my legs and gave him a close up of my wet pussy.

  “You been playing with yourself again haven’t you?” he says licking his lips.

  I never understood how he knew it, but he could always tell when I took care of myself. “I did a little something, earlier today.”

  “What you thought about when you were flipping that pussy this time?” He asks in the seductive voice he uses right before he pushes into my body. “If it’s another nigga I’ll kill you.”

  “How you licked my pussy for an hour while I was sucking your toes,” I moan. “You know the nastiest shit always turns me on, Kevin. That’s probably why you chose me.”

  He chuckles. “That’s one of the reasons I chose you, and that’s also one of the reasons I made you my wife.” He strokes his goatee. “On some serious shit, I don’t want Cloud kissing you in the mouth anymore. The look he gives when he kisses you, tells me he feels like he’s home in your eyes. I don’t want to bury somebody with my bloodline.”

  “I don’t fuck with—”

  “Bitch, did you hear what the fuck I said to you?” He yells at me. “Put that nigga in his place, before I get home, Bambi. Blood or not, I don’t play when it comes to my wife.”

  “It’s done,” I tell him.

  “That’s my wife,” he winks.

  “But can you believe it?” he continues as he looks at my pussy lips again. “In seven days it’ll all be over. And the promise I made to you and your father will be solid. I’ll finally be out of the business, Bambi. Can you deal with a square nigga for the rest of your life?”

  “I don’t care what you are doing, you will never be square, Kevin,” I sigh. “I just wish you didn’t have to do all of this. You know, meeting with the Russians and stuff.”

  “Bambi, the Russians are on me. You can’t keep blaming yourself for a decision a man has made.”

  “I have to blame myself, Kevin. Had I not traded one addiction in for another, by starting to gamble, I would not have lost our life’s savings. And, you would not have to go to such a risky meeting with the Russians. Because of me we lost everything, and almost couldn’t afford the twins’ tuition at school.”

  “Bambi, nobody but you knows what you went through in Saudi Arabia. As much shit as I’ve seen on the streets, it probably can’t touch what you seen. You know how many times I’ve seen a child killed? None.”

  My heart thumps and the memories of the past seem to suffocate me. I turn the fan on in the bathroom and take a few quick breaths. I need some air, and feel like I’m hyperventilating. Vh1

  “Calm down, Bambi,” he says to me. “That life is over now, and stop coming down on yourself because you got weak and gambled a little. It happens to the best of us. And, after this one hundred million dollar deal with the Russians we will be set for life. I’m gonna be honest, whether you dipped into the stash or not, the meeting with the Russians is a power move. We on top after this deal, Bambi. Trust me.”

  Just recently Avery Graham, the connect Kevin supplies on the east coast called with a deal changer. He said that one of his biggest buyers, Iakov and Arkadi Lenin, wanted to up their purchase, but only if they met the Kennedy Kings personally. The Russians’ stated that the reason they wanted to meet with the Kings was because they didn’t trust Avery with that amount of money. They wanted to touch their product directly after the dough exchanged hands.

  Although Mitch McKenzie, who supplies Kevin with pure cocaine at wholesale prices, advised the Kings against the meting, Kevin didn’t heed the warning. The meeting in seven days would be the first time the Russians would meet the Kennedy Kings. It wasn’t because the Russians didn’t try. They looked everywhere for the Kennedy Kings but their attempts were all in vain. The Kings only made themselves seen to those whom they wanted to, and operating like that worked for them so far. They were ghosts.

  While I continue to look at my husband, Kevin suddenly looks to the left. “Put your clothes back on, Bambi,” he tells me. “Ramirez is walking over here and I don’t want him getting any bright ideas about my goodies,” he winks again.

  I quickly get dressed and go back into the living room. I look out of the window and I see Cloud’s car is gone. Fuck that nigga. I flop back on the sofa and wait for Kevin’s attention to come back on me.

  “What’s up, man?” Kevin says looking at Ramirez.

  Ramirez is saying something, but I can’t hear him. My heart stops when I see someone I don’t know walk into the casino behind Kevin. His expression is deadly, and he looks like he has been wronged. When he releases two automatic weapons from the black leather coat he’s wearing, and I try to scream, my voice is trapped in my throat and it makes it difficult to breathe.

  When Kevin finally looks at me, he must’ve seen the horror in my eyes because he says, “What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

  Ramirez comes into view too and they both focus on me. The next thing I see is sparks flying behind Kevin and Ramirez as the man fires into the casino. Kevin drops the iPad, and it tumbles to the floor. The only thing I can see now is the green square pattern on an ugly cream carpet. Gunfire rings out, along with screams, and before long I can see blood soak the carpet.

  I put both hands on my throat, and squeeze tighter. When I do my voice returns and I scream into the house. As if it were in slow motion, I see my sisters running down the stairwell toward me. In that moment, I know that everything in my life has changed.

  ****

  It’s later that night. I’m in my bed. Naked. Not a stich of clothing covers my body. When I look up I see my nakedness in the gold and diamond mirror on the ceiling. I don’t look like myself. My eyes are red, and white dry tearstains run toward my chin. I’m a mess. My head is thumping, and I want the feeling of this nightmare to be over.

  My husband is not dead. The man who tamed me when I first left the military is not gone. The man who rubbed my body every night when I couldn’t get a good night sleep, because I thought someone was going to come into my home and take my life, is not deceased. By some man I didn’t know.

  When my personal phone line rings, I roll over and answer it. “Hello.” My throat is so dry I can feel the two balls that are supposed to be my tonsils rubbing together.

  “Good evening, Bambi,” someone says to me on the phone.

  Nothing about this evening is good and I hate him for being so pleasant. If I could reach through this phone and take his life, I would. “What do you want?” I ask.

  “This is Avery, can I speak to Kevin? It’s…
I mean…well…it’s kind of important.”

  Hearing my husband’s name in his mouth makes my chest thump. “I gotta go, Avery. Now is not a good time.”

  “Wait,” he yells out to me before I end the call, “Please don’t hang up.” He clears his throat. “Listen, I need to speak to Kevin now. There’s a meeting taking place on Saturday. A very important meeting, and I need to make sure that he’ll be there.”

  I remember the meeting. “Why can’t you go yourself?” I ask, knowing the Russians were introduced to my husband through him anyway. “You can just give us what is owed when the meeting is done.”

  “Because, I’m not facilitating this deal and the Kings have to be there. Kevin knows that. That was part of the deal. They want to meet the connect.”

  I hang up on him. My phone immediately rings again. This time it’s my friend Sarge but I don’t want to talk to him now either. I can’t concentrate. The last thing I feel like dealing with is Avery, the Russians and even my friend.

  When I stand up. I’m still naked. The cool air reminds me that I’m alive despite feeling dead inside. I guess I should be grateful that I’m living. I could’ve killed myself and met Kevin in heaven. I don’t feel grateful though.

  I walk into my double walk-in closet. The place I go to for refuge. Everything is cream inside and a large comfortable loveseat sits against the wall. I never use it. Instead I drop to my knees, the plush cream carpet protects my knees from harm. I push my clothes to the side.

  There are two safes in here but I focus on the pink one I had installed some time back. Originally it was to keep my jewelry protected, but I’ve since sold it all off to gamble, I don’t have anything nice outside of my wedding ring left.

  I open the pink safe anyway, and inside are two bottles of Russian vodka. How ironic. They’re the only things inside the safe. Suddenly I feel hot, and I want to take my clothes off, but I’m not wearing any. Kevin was so proud of me, when I stopped drinking. If I drink now, all the love he poured on me, to keep me alive would be in vain. I feel guilty. I slam the safe close. I won’t make such a weak move.