Pretty Kings 3 Read online

  I didn’t feel like talking to him about why our marriage would not work so I kept my eyes closed.

  When I felt the sheet slide off my body I couldn’t believe what he was trying to do. Have sex. We hadn’t fucked since before Carey was killed so why was he coming at me now?

  When the weight of his body lowered the mattress slightly, my heartbeat quickened. I just knew he was going to try to fuck me. Instead, he pushed my legs apart and lifted my nightgown.

  Within seconds, he was lapping at my pussy, hitting my clit softly and repeatedly. In that moment, I hated myself. Not because he was touching me without permission, but because it felt so good.

  I was a tough bitch but the hardest thing I ever did was remain stiff, with my eyes closed while he caused my body to experience all kinds of ecstasy. Instead of faking like I was asleep, I wanted to cheer him on and say, “Right there, Ramirez. Keep it like that. It feels so good.”

  Instead, I lay still with my eyes closed and did everything I could to prevent him from knowing that I reached an orgasm. He licked at me for two more minutes after I came and I thought I was losing my mind because it tickled and my clit was sensitive.

  When he was done he walked back toward the door and whispered, “I love you, Race. And I’m not going to stop fighting for you.” He walked out.

  ****

  The next day I was livid about him fucking up my head by eating me out. I wanted him to know that no matter what he did the night before, we were still over.

  My soon to be ex-husband was standing in the middle of our bedroom looking at the divorce papers I had drawn up a week ago. The pen to sign them and get this shit over with was in his other hand.

  Why wouldn’t he use it to scribble his signature down?

  Part of me wanted it done with. Wanted him to let me walk out. But the other part of me was scared to be alone. Who was I if I wasn’t Ramirez’s wife? Would I even still be a Kennedy?

  He flipped to the last sheet, laughed and tossed the papers on the bed. His lips tightened and he said through clenched teeth, “I’m not signing that shit, Race. You my wife now and you’re going to stay my fucking wife. For as long as I have breath in my body. And as long as you have breath in yours.”

  I stomped over to the dresser and slammed my fist on it. The half bottle of Hennessey that I had been nursing all morning wobbled and I picked it up, took a swig and slammed it back down. Angry, I turned around to face him. “You said you would do it, Ramirez. You promised to let me go. What’s different now?”

  “Because you don’t really want a divorce, baby,” he said holding one hand over his chest. “If you did, you wouldn’t still be here. Don’t do this shit to me! I’m begging you.”

  I walked up to him with my arms crossed over my chest, afraid of what I might do to him. Real slowly I parted my lips and said, “I been telling you I want a divorce for months and now is the time.” I paused. “And like I told you in the past, only reason I’m still here is because I haven’t found the right place. The moment I get the house of my dreams, I’m gone and you need to prepare yourself for that.”

  “Do you even get what’s going on right now? We at war, Race! Fuck I look like divorcing you at a time like this?” He gripped my shoulders and pulled me toward him. Gazing down at me, he said, “Not over no stripper we both brought into our marriage.”

  I wiggled out of his grasp. “You don’t get it, do you?” I asked angrily. “It’s not about us fucking a bitch together. It’s about you falling in love with her.”

  “And you didn’t fall in love with her?” He paused. “Keep it one hundred, Race! You talked to her more than I did. And don’t tell me I didn’t hear you crying over her a few times in the bathroom when you thought I wasn’t listening,” he continued. “You miss her, baby, but I’m over the chick. I understand why you had to lay the murder game down and all I want right now is my wife back!”

  “You should’ve understood that the moment I put a bullet in her head instead of acting like your wife was dead as opposed to your side bitch.”

  I felt myself wanting to cry but I sucked it in. Ramirez violated by catching feelings and I hated him for it. I hated him for making me kill her because I knew in my heart that she was perfect…for both of us.

  I turned around and faced the door when I heard someone in our room. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you know where my daughter is?” Sarah asked hanging in the doorway.

  I gasped when I saw what this bitch had on. She was wearing a sheer red nightgown and I wanted to smack the shit out of her because you could see every line on her body. Her large saggy breasts, her hairy pussy and the tiger striped stretch marks on her legs and belly. I knew she was going to be a problem when Denim said she had to stay with us but I never expected no shit like this.

  “Sarah, if you don’t get the fuck up out my room with that shit on I’ma lay hands on you,” I promised.

  Sarah’s eyes widened and she laughed before raising a wine glass she was carrying to her lips. The red liquid splashed against her mouth and she stretched her tongue into the glass. When she was done with her stinky, supposed-to-be-erotic sip, she lowered her glass and looked over my head at Ramirez.

  “Why you mad, cutie?” she said to me with eyes still on him. “Is it because you’re afraid that that fine ass man candy of yours will want some of this good pussy?” She raised her nightgown like she was about to flash him and I lifted my red tank top, showing the handle of my Beretta in my jeans.

  The stupid smile vanished from her face. “No need to be so antsy.” She looked into my eyes and back at my gun handle. “I was just searching for Denim. Since she ain’t here, I guess I’ll check around the rest of the house.”

  “You go do that,” I said.

  “I will. But you’re going to wish you didn’t unveil your gun to me. I promise you that.”

  When she left I turned around and looked at Ramirez. He had his hand over his mouth like he was trying to suppress a laugh. When I saw his face turning red, I busted out laughing too. Before I knew it, he was on the floor in tears and I was on the bed.

  Together we had the kind of laugh that made me forget all about my troubles and it took both of us a minute to simmer down. When I was done he crawled up on the bed next to me and said, “You see, baby? We still got a lot of love left. Don’t end us.” He grabbed my hand and kissed the top of it. “I’m begging you.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DENIM

  I was putting on my jacket, about to go with Bambi to get my toes done, when Bradley opened the bathroom door. Steam flowed around the silhouette of his body as if he was submerged in fog. Instantly my pussy moistened as I took in his sexy body. “Where you going, baby?”

  “About to get a pedicure with Bambi.” I zipped up my jacket and walked over to the dresser to slide some lipstick on.

  He strolled out the doorway and walked up behind me. Pressing his damp body against my back, he raised my blue dreads and kissed me on the neck. “Don’t go out tonight,” he whispered before sucking the bottom of my ear. “I copped a fresh bag of kush from my man. Let’s put paper planes in the air and fuck all night.”

  I grinned and said, “I can’t mess with you today, Bradley. We been going at it non-stop. I have to spend time with my sister at—”

  He pushed away from me and his nostrils flared. His lips parted like he was about to tell me something before closing again. “You fucking Bambi or something? You into that dyke shit like Race? Huh?”

  The comment was so out of left field that it took the breath out of me. I dropped the lipstick, turned around and walked over to him. When I was an arm’s length away from him, I smacked the shit out of him.

  Hard.

  Pointing a stiff finger at him, I said, “If you ever say some shit like that to me again I’ll…”

  “You’ll do what, Denim?” he chuckled. “Leave me?”

  Silence.

  “Because I’d like to see you try, bitch,” he continue
d, walking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

  What did they do to my husband in that prison? He wasn’t the same since he’d been back. Or maybe he was always this man but I didn’t know until now.

  ****

  I told Bambi I wasn’t in the mood to go get a pedicure. Bradley’s possessiveness had me feeling like I was doing something wrong. Like I was neglecting him for going out and I needed to get my mind together to figure out how I was going to handle this. He seemed obsessed and it was so unlike him.

  We always trusted each other.

  Was he guilty of something and trying to turn it on me?

  Instead of going with Bambi, I went to one of the guest rooms down in the west wing of the bunker and rolled up a blunt. I finished that one and was just about to roll another when I saw my mother walking down the hallway in a freak outfit that raised the hair all over my body.

  This is the type of shit I was talking about. Behavior like this was the main reason we didn’t have a close relationship. Instead of being the fifty-something year-old woman that she was, she was gallivanting around this bitch in whore outfits. She was probably hoping to get some dick from one of my sisters’ husbands.

  It was hard enough for me to convince them to let her stay. But after she interrupted the meeting the other day, I doubted she’d be able to hang around here long.

  I put my blunt in the ashtray, hopped off the bed and ran out of the room to catch her. Walking up behind her, I took another look at what she was wearing and shook my head. “Ma, what the fuck do you have on? Why you didn’t put on the sweatpants I bought you last week?”

  She swayed from side to side before looking back at me. Leaning on the banister for support, she said, “If I want to wear a comforter I’ll slide it off my bed.” She paused. “I mean what the fuck is wrong with you jealous ass bitches around here? If ya’ll chose to dress half as sexy as I do, instead of toting your big guns around like dykes, you might be able to get some dick.”

  “Mama!” I yelled.

  “Mama, shit! It ain’t my fault ya’ll niggas can’t keep their eyes off me,” she responded, her words slurring around in her mouth.

  I shook my body, trying to get some of the disgust I had for her off my skin. “You can’t stay here dressed like that. You just can’t. If you want to live in this house you will be dressed properly at all times.” I paused. “Don’t make me regret my decision to let you live here until your house get’s done.”

  Her eyes widened and I could see them glossing over like she was about to cry. “You just want me gone in case I find out something. Is that it?” she asked with a glob of spit oozing down the side of her mouth.

  She was drunk and I had enough.

  I snatched the empty wine glass from her. “You don’t know what you talking about.” I gripped her arm and ushered her toward her room. “Come on.”

  “What happened to Grainger?” she screamed. “What happened to my baby?”

  “She’s probably with some crackhead, ma,” I responded. “She was never an angel. You know that.”

  I pulled her again and she tried to fight me but she was too drunk to get away. In the end, she was in the room we set up for her and I walked her over to the bed. She must’ve been tired because she crawled under the sheets without a fight and I sat the glass down on the table next to her before flopping on the edge of the mattress.

  I looked over at her and wiped her graying hair out of her face. She looked sad, pitiful even, and the guilt of how I was treating her weighed on my head. Tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear, I said, “Mama, I love you and I don’t mean to be mean. I just want you to know that I’m not the enemy. I never will be.”

  “Baby, is everything okay?” Bradley asked walking into the room.

  Sometimes, during the tough moments, I forgot he was home. But when he popped up like he did now, I realized I wasn’t alone anymore.

  “Yeah, I was just—”

  “What did you do with my daughter?” my mother screamed suddenly, causing me to leap up. “I know you did something to her, Bradley! Where is she?”

  His eyebrows pulled together tightly. “Sarah, like I told you the last million times you asked, I didn’t do anything to her or with her. I need you to stop with the accusations because you causing problems between me and my wife.”

  “Liar! I know you did something to my child,” she yelled louder. “And when I find out what, I’m going to—”

  “Do what?” he yelled stepping deeper into the bedroom. “You not gonna do shit because everything you have, everything you eat, and all the whore outfits you sport around this joint are courtesy of me. Without my money, you’d be out on the streets. Keep talking shit and I’ll show you how the broke really live.”

  Hearing how he was talking to my mother got me heated. I walked toward him and said, “Hold up, baby. My mother didn’t mean it like that. She’s drunk and—”

  “Why you always take up for her?” he paused. “I’m sick of you letting her come into your life and dictate how and when you do shit, Denim. She shouldn’t be here! She had her chance at a life and she fucked it up. Don’t let her ruin yours too because you refuse to obey your husband!”

  “Bradley,” I yelled. “Why are you acting so different lately?” I paused. “Regardless of how you feel, she’s still my fucking mother!” I screamed.

  I could see the anger wash away from his face. In its place was disappointment. He curled his hands into fists before relaxing them. “I came in here to apologize for calling you a bitch. But if we don’t work out, it’ll be because of her. I want you to remember that.” He pointed at my mother and stormed out.

  I watched him walk away but my stare was still on the door long after he left. I heard my mother calling me but I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. Before my mother moved in, I imagined us working on our marriage, laughing and even talking about the good times with Jasmine. And now that my mother was in our home, all we did was argue and fight and I was sick of it. Yes, he was possessive sometimes but that’s what happens when a man loves you.

  “Denim, come here,” my mother said calling out for me a bit louder.

  I turned around and looked at her. She was becoming huge again. She couldn’t find anybody who loved her and I put the word in the other day to kill the last man she cared about. My mother was messy but at the end of the day, she was also lonely and seeking any attention she could gain…even anger.

  “Ma, you got to ease up on Bradley,” I said softly while crossing my arms over my chest.

  “You really don’t see, do you?” she asked.

  “See what?”

  “He is not the same man, Denim. He is not the one you first married. He’s not even the same person Grainger was in a relationship with when she had him. He’s different and he’s doing all he can to tear you away from me. Do you ever wonder why?”

  I shook my head. “Why, mama?”

  “Because he was responsible for Grainger going missing. Now I might be an old horny woman, but there’s truth to my words.” She paused. “He doesn’t love you, he wants to possess you and there is a difference.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. She was driving me crazy. So I walked out of the bedroom without even responding. As I moved down the hallway and toward the living room, I saw Race talking to someone through the front door. When I walked toward her, I saw a beautiful white woman outside.

  “Race, who is this?” I asked coming up behind her.

  We didn’t open the door for anybody we weren’t expecting so I was confused. When Race turned around, I saw her glassy red eyes and knew what happened. She was drunk and not thinking straight.

  “My name is Mellvue,” the woman said extending her slender hand toward me. “And I’m here to speak to the Kennedy family about a very important matter. May I come in?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  SCARLETT

  As I ogled my ten-month-old son, who I left to be raised by another family, I was in
awe of his beauty. Lying on his back with a ball stuffed in his mouth and his feet in the air, he looked as if life had treated him well. That would be fine if it wasn’t without me.

  Maybe I thought he would be sad since his birth mother wasn’t raising him or in his life. Maybe I thought he would be sad since he didn’t see his father, or have a connection to how he came to be in this world. I guess that’s why I didn’t need to raise him.

  I wasn’t fit to be his mother.

  “Scarlett, he’s beautiful isn’t he?” Nadine Walker said as she strolled out of the kitchen with a beautiful sterling silver tray with doves carved into its edges. On top of it was a pot of tea and sugar cookies. “I’m amazed every day because he has come so far. He’s growing so quickly.”

  I gazed up at Nadine; my eyes followed her until she took a seat next to me. The scent of her expensive lavender infused fragrance hovered in the air. Whipping her long brown hair over her shoulder, the corners of her mouth rose upward in a large smile as she looked at Master.

  The charm of her slender body hypnotized me. The lines of her physique were splendid as she crossed her legs and continued to gaze at Master. Although in her fifties, she didn’t look a day over forty. Leaning forward, she poured me a cup of chai tea before serving herself.

  “Yes, he is perfect,” I said as I convinced the tears not to fall. “And he looks so peaceful, Nadine. Thank you for taking care of him.”

  She placed the palm of her hand on my wrist, her touch cool. “I have to ask you something I always wanted to know.” She blew into the cup, causing waves to form in the tea.

  “What is it?”

  “Why did you leave Master on our doorstep?” she took a tiny sip and sat the cup down. “I mean when I looked at him, on the day you left him, it was evident that you cared about him. You even typed a letter indicating what his name was so that we would know.”