Cracked Dreams (22 page)

Once there, we got seats at the counter, right in front of the grill to make sure our food was prepared correctly. We both ordered cheeseburgers with a fried egg on the top, and a side order of fries—that was our special. While
we sat there watching the cook close enough to make sure he was doing his thing, Cee snapped his finger and said, “Oh shit! I forgot to tell you.”

“What's up?” I asked as I woke up out of the trance I'd slipped into, anticipating how delicious the burger would be.

“You remember that bitch-ass nigga Fish?” Ceelow asked.

“Yeah,” I answered. “He fuck with that nigga AG, right? Didn't he get sent up a while back?”

“Yup that's him,” said Ceelow. “He just came home not too long ago.”

“Word?”

“That's my word, and this dude is already gettin' into shit on the Ave. Niggas told me that he just be posted up on the other side of White Plains Road all day and night like he waiting to pop off or some shit.”

“Say word?” I said. “How long he been on the streets now?”

“The little niggas on the block say about two weeks, but I only saw him for the first time like two days ago.”

“He say anything to you?” I asked.

“Nah, son,” Cee responded. “I still think he's trying to figure out how much the Block is changed.”

“It be like that though, son,” I agreed. “But he's a dickhead anyway. It won't be long before that nigga end up gettin' sent back up.”

“Yeah, well, he better realize that shit ain't the same since he left,” suggested Ceelow. “You know me, dog. It's nothing to run up on a nigga and empty out one of them thangs.”

“Yeah, well, let's see what's up first,” I recommended. “No reason to heat the Block for no reason. He'll probably hang himself before long, you know?”

“Yeah, no doubt,” Cee answered as our food was finally served.

By the time we left the restaurant, it was already past 7 a.m. We split up after that and we both went home. When I reached the crib, I hit the bed like a ton of bricks for a well-deserved rest. It had been a long night and I needed a little break before I started the rest of a long day.

I didn't wake up until early that afternoon. I hadn't intended on sleeping for that long but the booze and the weed had other plans for me. I had an appointment at 10 a.m. and I was already three hours behind schedule. I
was almost positive that I would be late from jump, but I didn't want to be
this
late. I still had to get up and get cleaned up before I left. I took a quick shower and threw on a sweat suit. I then went into the safe I'd had installed in the bottom of my closet to make sure I had enough to pay for the trip I had in mind, and I was off. By the time I left, it was 2 p.m. I jumped in my car and hit the road. It took me approximately forty-five minutes to reach my destination on 34th Street and 9th Avenue. I was greeted upon my arrival by James Waters, my travel agent, and a twenty-minute discussion led to me parting with $42,000 in cash to cover the airfare and stay for my and Ginger's Christmas vacation.

I figured that when Ginger got a look at the brochures for where we would be staying, she wouldn't be able to resist. It would be perfect.

A
fter a frosty October and an even more arctic November, December had finally set in with a fierce and bitter chill. The snow that had accumulated in the streets of the Bronx would reach heights greater than fifteen or twenty inches. This year's Christmas season would be brutal for New Yorkers to endure. But as for the most popular and respected couple in the Bronx, Christmas would be represented in the form of white sandy beaches, palm trees and beautiful sunsets. The only chill that they would be getting would be from the mango daiquiris. Spits planned for himself, along with Ginger, to spend their Christmas in Hawaii at a plush, 3,300-square-foot, luxurious villa located in Maui. Only dreams could bring the images that could be found in this little part of the world. It didn't take long at all for Spits to convince Gin that they would have the time of their lives at this exquisite beach house property.

This heavenly dwelling would be equipped with five bedrooms—two of which were beach front—five bathrooms, a spacious living room with a fireplace, a dining room with an adjoining conversation area, gym, a heated swimming pool and Jacuzzi, and a full-service staff. Spits and Ginger would have all of these things to themselves for a period of six days and seven nights. This was something that Spits could only dream about doing with that special person and it was finally a feasible reality. He was going to take advantage.

While they were gone, the everyday grind would be left for Ceelow to
handle, with the assistance of El Don and Poncho. It had been proven that the Time Bomb enterprise could be run responsibly in the absence of Spits so he would have no uncertainties about leaving everything in their hands.

It was now December 20th and Spits and Ginger were ready to start the rest of their lives with this single event.

“Are you nervous?” Spits asked Ginger as they rode to the airport.

“Well,” Ginger began. “I would be pulling out my hair under normal circumstances, but, you make all of those feelings fade.”

“Good,” Spits simply said. “That's what I'm here for.”

They chartered a private jet for the flight there that took approximately 12.5 hours; including a stop at LAX to refuel. The entire flight was without flaw. Ginger couldn't have been more comfortable than she was, lounging in the huge leather reclining seats while they were being served champagne and strawberries.

“The only way to fly,”
Spits said as he noticed how much Ginger's perception of the air travel experience had changed since they'd first boarded an airplane. Even though she was still a little jumpy when it came to the taking off and landing part, she'd improved a whole lot. Her only beef was the light-headed feeling when it was time to de-board the plane.

They arrived in Maui just in time to see the sun setting over the clear blue Pacific Ocean. The colors the sun made the sky turn were unimaginable. Different shades of yellow, orange, red and purple. It was absolutely incredible.

Upon exiting Kahului Airport after claiming their baggage, they were met by a native Hawaiian holding a sign that read
‘“Spits.
” The driver was instructed by Spits to take them to the Sandy Surf Villa in Wailea and following a short toured ride, they were pulling into the driveway of their new home for the next week. Upon entering the front door of this two-story dream-house, they were greeted by the staff—a butler, a cook and two maids—and then they were escorted by the butler through the entire space to familiarize themselves with the new surroundings. They were in complete and utter amazement as they went from room to room to room to room . . .

First they were shown the living area, which was fully equipped with huge sofas, chairs and ottomans made of oak, carrying cushions covered with
cashmere. There was a big-screen television with a satellite connection and DVD. The floors were a glossy hardwood and were decorated with numerous Persian rugs that complemented the area nicely. They were shown the kitchen—which didn't interest either one of them as they wouldn't be spending any time there—and then they were shown the dining area which led to a patio area facing the rest of the island. The patio area also had stairs that led up the back of the house onto a small roof area that was used for a Jacuzzi. From this point you could see the entire island on one side, and never-ending stars reflecting off the ocean in the other. Then, they toured the bedrooms—each one bigger and more detailed than the last until they reached the master bedroom. The master bedroom contained a king-sized bed, his and her bathrooms, and a desk area with a computer, a small table with two chairs, and doors that led to the pool area which had stairs that led directly to the beach. When they reached there, the tour ended. Spits made arrangements for breakfast, and they would only take a quick shower before spending the rest of the night under the covers. The long flight had taken its toll and they needed to be rested for the following day's events.

In the morning, Ginger and Spits were awakened by the smell of freshly ground coffee and the brightness of the Hawaiian sun peeking through the curtains. When they were fully awake, they parted to their separate bathrooms to wash up before breakfast. When they returned, the maid was preparing the food so that they could eat while they lay comfortably in the huge bed. They climbed into the bed and sat up, making room for the bed-trays and when they were comfy, the maid revealed their meal. When the steam cleared they saw mouth-watering T-bone steaks, and scrambled eggs with cheese. On the side were breakfast potatoes, bacon, sausage and toast. The coffee was piping-hot and there were also glasses of water, milk and some Moet mimosas. At first, the dishes looked too perfect to be ruined, but that thought was quickly demolished as they began devouring this simply perfect meal.

“Whoa!” Spits simply said as he reached the limit of food he could consume. “This is the shit, for real! I ain't never felt as good as I do at this very moment.”

“That's true,” Ginger agreed. “I don't know where that cook came from, but we need to bring his ass back with us home.”

“Fuck that!” Spits rebutted. “How about we just never fuckin' go back?”

“That would be fine, too,” said Ginger as they both giggled. They knew that there was nowhere like New York they could really call home. Even though they lived in Jersey, New York would always be their home. They wouldn't ever forget that.

“Damn, Gin,” Spits said as he saw Ginger getting back underneath the warm comforters. “I don't even feel like gettin' up to go anywhere.”

“Me neither,” approved Ginger as she pulled the covers up to her neck. “What did you want to do today, anyway?”

“Oh, I figured we could hit the shopping strip and go nuts,” responded Spits as he cuddled with her under the covers.

“Okay, that's sounds like a plan!” Ginger said as her priorities were suddenly rearranged. “Let's go then,” she said, jumping up out of the bed.

Spits let out a chuckle. He knew that was the easiest way to get her up and ready to go. The thought of shopping in a new town with a virtually limitless budget all of a sudden sounded way better than staying in bed all day. They both laughed and kissed playfully for a minute before getting ready.

They spent the remainder of the morning in and out of the many men's and women's shops, art galleries, gift shops, and jewelry stores in the Kahului Shopping Center. They bought all kinds of things ranging from figurines to swimwear. After hours of walking the entire length of the mall, they collected their bags and went to a restaurant called the Koho Grill & Bar for lunch. When they were done eating, they went back to the beach house.

Once there, they could shower once more before going back out to the beach. It was now a little past 5 p.m. When they reached the beach, the sky had just begun changing from baby blue, to yellow, and then light orange. They brought with them a bottle of champagne to drink as they watched the sunset. Spits popped the cork and poured two nice-sized drinks for them. They simply toasted to
love
and exchanged passionate kisses before slowly sipping on the bubbly.

When their bottle was just about done, Spits got up to get another. “I'll be right back,” he said, making his way back toward the house. “I'm gonna go get another bottle.”

When Spits was halfway back to the house, Ginger said, “No wait! Don't go.”

Spits turned back around to see what was wrong, and Gin was just standing there, completely naked, signaling with her finger for him to return. All Spits could do was stare. “Damn!” he said to himself. “Is that for me?”

“Come here, Daddy,” she said in a childish, bratty tone. “Don't you ever leave me!”

“Never,” Spits said, walking back to her. “I'll never leave you.”

When he reached her, she smiled up at him playfully, and as he approached her closer for a kiss, she pushed him away and sat him back down in the reclining beach chair he had just gotten up from. She stood up in front of him. She sat him upward and threw her leg over his shoulder. With both hands she pressed his head further and further between her legs until he could feel the heat from her insides. He kissed her clit, and then licked it. He teased it until it started to poke out from behind its lips, and then he wiggled his tongue on it fast, then slow, and then fast again. She started going crazy with anticipation. She wanted to cum, but she still wanted him inside of her. She grabbed the back of his head and pushed harder and harder until her body was jolting. She reached orgasm after orgasm while his tongue continued to tease her clit. When she couldn't take anymore, she threw him back on the chair. She made sure he was comfortable and then started caressing his chest. She took off his T-shirt and sat on his lap while she began kissing him more and more passionately. She kissed down his neck, and then down his chest. When she reached his stomach, she shoved her hand down his shorts and started fondling his penis as it grew larger and larger. She then forcefully snatched off his swimming trunks and took him into her mouth. When he grabbed the back of her head, she forced his hands to his side. She went slow, and then faster, and then slower again. She was driving him completely out of his mind. When he thought she was going to let him cum, she stopped abruptly. He could do nothing but stare at her as she teasingly smiled up at him.

“Take it from the back, Daddy,” she said innocently.

He jumped up before the words were even completely out of her mouth
and laid her down on the sand. Now, it was time for him to take control. He forcefully turned her over on her stomach and lifted her pelvis, making sure her back was perfectly arched. He took a moment in appreciating the sight, grinned for a second, and then forced himself into her wet, dripping pussy. The intensity grew with every stroke as she grew wetter and wetter. Spits had never felt this kind of intensity with her before. Maybe it was the pure white sand, or maybe it was how the stars reflected off the ocean. Maybe it was the silence and the privacy. Whatever it was, it was sending wave after wave of extreme sexual feelings through his body. As Ginger felt herself about to explode, she cried, “I'm gonna cum again! Don't stop, Daddy! Cum with me!”