A LaLa Land Addiction (11 page)

Never fails. Niggas smell pussy and get stupid,
she thought. Her smile didn't match her sinister thoughts as she replied, “Lemon drop martini please.… Thank you.” She had so much sugar in her tone that she thought she would get a toothache.

“Anytime, gorgeous. I'm Demarcus,” he said as he held out his hand to her.

“Lisa,” Naomi replied as she accepted it and shook it. “Thanks for the drink.” Naomi stood and grabbed her drink and her handbag as if she were preparing to leave.

“You just gone take the drink I bought you and dip?” Demarcus asked.

Naomi turned, her forehead wrinkled in contest as she replied, “First of all, it's only a ten-dollar drink. I don't owe you anything. Second of all, I knew I was going to leave this bar with you before I even sat down. So we can play this game or you can follow me and take me back to a room. Fair warning: I only fuck with five stars.” She winked and he smiled, completely enamored by her candor.

He chuckled as he peeled off a hundred-dollar bill and placed it on the bar before sliding off his stool. She led him to the door as he placed his arm around her waist, palming her behind as they made their exit.

Naomi removed his hand. “Slow down, boy,” she said.

Her chest grew heavy once they were outside of the comfort of the crowded bar. She surveyed Demarcus, knowing that he had at least a hundred pounds on her. She knew that Noah needed her to come through. He needed Demarcus's head served up on a platter in a not so obvious way. She loved Noah and this was a chance to prove to him just how much. Noah had been crowned king and she wanted to solidify her place as his queen. She didn't want to just sit pretty and spend his money, she wanted to help him earn it and protect everything he had earned, but she had never killed before and the thought of it made butterflies form in her stomach.
He has a hundred pounds on me. If it goes wrong, I could easily be the one going home with my toe tagged,
she thought. They climbed into his old-school Chevelle, and while she was more intrigued by foreign whips, she had to admit that the restored car was attractive. He opened her door and she slid inside as she smiled uncomfortably. She wasn't feeling being trapped inside the small space. She needed to hurry and get him to the hotel so that she could get this over with.

“Cat got your tongue, love? You was all talk in the bar. Now it's time to get it popping and you like a church mouse over there,” Demarcus said.

“Just a little nervous. I don't usually do this,” Naomi responded with hidden innuendo. Her manipulative nature came easily, but she had never murdered anyone. She wondered if she had what it took to get her hands dirty, because she was too far in to turn back now. The sick feeling that consumed her was hard to control. She just wanted to throw up. Her nerves were fucking with her and she took a deep breath to try to control her energy. She didn't want to appear too jittery and throw red flags.

“So you're a good girl?” Demarcus asked, intrigued as he licked his lips and peered at her briefly out of the corners of his eyes before focusing on the road ahead.

“I know how to be bad, though. Don't misunderstand,” she flirted.

“I'm speaking your language fluently, my baby,” Demarcus replied. Naomi laughed at his play on words. “The casino hotel str8?”

Naomi knew that downtown Detroit would be too congested. Her face would be caught on cameras everywhere if they went to that location. She would have to lower her standards and choose a hole in the wall in order to remain low-key. “It doesn't have to be fancy; I'm not tripping.”

“I ain't gon' take you to no bum shit, my baby,” he said. “Got to up the ante when you fucking with a queen, you feel me?”

She was grateful when he turned up the radio. It stopped them from having to interact. She didn't want to get to know details of the life she was about to end.

When they pulled up to the popular casino and hotel in the heart of the city, she tensed. She tried to keep her head bowed slightly to avoid the camera picking up her full face. On top of the city seemed to be alive; everyone was on the scene.
He would bring me to the most popping spot in the fucking D. With all of these people out here, somebody is going to be able to I.D. me once they find his body,
she thought.

He placed his hand on the small of her back as he guided her to the front desk. She played the back as he acquired the room key.

“You a'ight?” Demarcus asked as he walked up on her. “We ain't got to do this if you're uncomfortable. We can keep it casual or we go to the room and turn up. Whatever happens tonight, you're in control.”

Naomi wished he could have been more of an asshole. It would have been much easier for her to deceive him.

“I'm fine. I just need to get in the room and get a drink,” she said.

“You sure?” he asked.

Stop being so nice!
she shouted in her mind. He was really trying to kick it with her and she was trying to run game. His sudden charm was causing her conscience to come into play and Naomi didn't like it.

When he hit the penthouse button Naomi felt guilt weigh on her shoulders. He was trying hard to impress her. He had no clue that she was a snake in his grass and her bite was deadly.

When she stepped into the room, she was in awe at the view that greeted them. The darkness of night was illuminated by the Canadian bridge that sat over the Detroit River. It was beautiful from this height and she was drawn to the window to admire it. “Wow,” she whispered.

“Here is that drink, my baby,” he said as he handed her a small bottle of vodka.

“This is poison,” she replied with a chuckle. “I like my drinks pretty, like me. I'll whip something up. You just relax.”

She sashayed over to the bar as his cell phone rang. He looked down at the screen.

“Please don't tell me I'm out here bopping around town with another woman's man. Is that Wifey calling?” Naomi asked with a smirk.

“Never that. I'm not that kind of nigga,” Demarcus replied. “But I do have to chop it up with my nigga real quick. I'ma step out for a second.”

She gave a polite smile, and as soon as he walked out Naomi popped open her purse. She pulled the Rohypnol out of her purse. She popped the pill into the cognac and Coke drink she had prepared and quickly snapped her handbag closed just as he walked back into the room.

“Everything okay?” she asked as she carried his drink over to him.

“Yeah, just a little business,” he said. His body language was tense and his brow furrowed.

“Look, I don't know what the call was about, but we can end the night early if you have to shake. Your mood seems off,” she said. She grabbed her handbag, bluffing as she prepared to leave.

“Nah, it's cool. My apologies,” he said as he grabbed her bag and slid it off her shoulder, setting it on the counter as he held both of her hands. “I'm all about what's in front of me right now.”

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Bitch niggas trying me right now, that's all. They can't touch me, so they fucking with the people closest to me. My baby brother in high school. I hustle so he ain't got to fuck with the streets like that. He still getting wrapped up in the middle of my shit, though. I got a two-year-old baby boy at home, my granny, and my bro. I was hustling with my people until my other bro got killed a few years back. Now it's all on me. I don't get this money, my family don't eat,” Demarcus said.

Naomi didn't know what to say. “Well, hopefully I can distract you for the night,” she said.

“You can most definitely distract me,” he replied as he sipped his drink.

Naomi watched his Adam's apple lower as he downed the drink. A pit filled her stomach. She hadn't expected herself to empathize with the other side. He really seemed like a decent guy. Suddenly it felt awkward to be in the business of men. Perhaps she should have let Noah handle this beef in the streets. Trying to end it in this way no longer felt right. She wasn't heartless, and although she was a hustler, she wasn't a killer. That had never been her M.O. By trying to prove her loyalty she suddenly felt like she was crossing her own lines of morality. She never minded getting over on a nigga. She felt like if somebody got “got” he or she deserved to get “got,” but she didn't know if she was down to go this far.

“Let me freshen up,” she said as she grabbed her bag and walked into the bathroom. She didn't breathe easy until she was behind the safety of the locked door. She hurriedly opened her purse and pulled out her cell phone.

I'm up the block waiting for you. When it's done, slide out.

Naomi read the text from Noah, feeling pressure on her back. He was depending on her and she didn't want to let him down. Naomi looked at herself in the mirror, conflicted. It had even been her idea to do this. He hadn't forced her hand. Naomi had wanted to prove her love to Noah and this was her grand gesture. Talking about it and actually doing it were two different things entirely, however. This was a life she was playing with and her humanity was at stake. Now that the time had come for her to bust her gun she didn't know if she could see it through. Naomi wasn't built for this. The honey blond wig she wore changed her appearance slightly but not enough for her comfort level.
What if someone I.D.'s me? What if I leave a fingerprint behind? What if I'm sloppy?
A million questions rang out in her head as she removed her clothes, revealing the dangerous curves of her body. Her gut was telling her to proceed with caution. Her intuition was warning her to stop, but she stayed the course and walked out; her only accessory was the La Perla lace that adorned her.

“Playtime,” she said.

She could see the groggy look in his eyes. The effects of the rophy had kicked in and her tension eased slightly. She had a mental one-up on him.

“Damn, my baby,” he commented as he approached her. She could see the change in his saunter. His motor skills were off too.
Even better,
she thought.

He couldn't stop himself from groping her cantaloupe-sized breasts. They were full, perky, and he lowered his lips to her taut nipples as he kissed them gently.

“We don't have to rush,” she said as she pushed him onto the bed. “I like to take things nice and slow. It's all in the foreplay.” She spread his legs and grabbed the bedsheet. “Let me tie you up and take advantage of you.”

“Shit, you can do whatever you want looking like that,” he replied with a lust-filled tone.

Naomi started with his hands, tying them to the bedposts before she also tied his feet. His manhood stood straight up by the time she was done. The anticipation alone had him ready to blow.

“Come set that pussy on my face,” he said.

“You on one, huh?” she asked as she smirked, knowing that the drugs in his system had him extraloose. Once he was secured she stood on the bed over his face and squatted down until she was positioned directly over his mouth. “You smell that?”

“Hell yeah, smell good like a mu'fucka. Now let me taste it,” he said.

She dipped a little lower and let him kiss her clit. She gasped slightly as he slid his tongue between her lips.

“Mm-m,” he moaned.

She stood.

“What you doing? Let me get that,” he said.

“Nah,” she answered. “I just thought you deserved a little taste of the pussy that you about to die over.”

“Quit bullshitting,” he said, chuckling slightly, still not realizing how dire his situation was.

Naomi looked him dead in the eyes and the look he saw reflecting back let him know she was serious.

“Can't just pick any ol' bitch up in a bar,” she schooled him. Naomi wore her poker face well. He had no idea that she was just as terrified as he was. She talked a good game despite the fact that her heart felt like it would leap out of her chest. She couldn't let him know that she was wavering. He bucked, trying to tear free from the sheets, but the drugs had his arms feeling like noodles. He was weak and drowsy.

Naomi retrieved a .22 out of her purse. She attached the silencer, her gut wrenching each time she screwed it tighter.

“I got a son,” he said as he saw her take aim. “I'm all he got.”

Naomi knew as soon as he said it that she wouldn't be able to pull the trigger. She had a son once. He had died of SIDS before she ever got a true chance to prove she could be a good mother. Now even the sight of a baby boy took her back to devastation. She had buried that fact about herself a long time ago. No one, not even Noah, knew about that part of her life.

“Come on, Lisa. Don't leave my son out here bold. What you want? Cash? I got bread. That's nothing. You ain't got to take my life over no paper—”

“Shut up!” Naomi shouted as she swayed back and forth with the gun pointed directly at him. “It's not about the money,” she whispered. Her finger curled on the trigger. Somehow, she knew that if she pulled it she would be forever changed. The action would endear her to Noah forever, but now she wondered how she would feel about herself. “This isn't my game. This is the one thing I can't do.

“Take your son and get out of town. Leave Flint. If you don't, the next person that comes for your head won't even blink,” she said with tears in her eyes.

She rushed to the bathroom and slipped on her clothes before rushing out.

Naomi knew that this was a mistake, but killing him would have been an even bigger one. She practically ran down the block until she spotted Noah's Range Rover. She slipped into his truck and as soon as she closed the doors she wept. Her cries were loud and she bent over, placing her head in her lap as she promised herself that she would never put herself in that position again.

“The first body is always the hardest. I owe you my life, baby girl. I love you,” Noah said.