Nude Awakening II (20 page)

CHAPTER

Twenty-One

I Will Cry for You

Back up in West Palm Beach, Art and Veto were putting as much distance between them and the studio as possible. The decision to haul ass was common sense after they heard the APB over the police scanner. Art was heated as he left the scene. His eyes kept roaming over the rearview mirrors, praying against all hope that no blue lights would appear. He knew he had some bullshit traffic violation warrants over his head, but that wasn't shit compared to having a fully automatic assault rifle. As for Veto, he was shitting bricks just the same.

Art was heading south, leaving the city limits of West Palm Beach. After driving for six minutes on edge, Art reached for his cell phone.

“We should get rid of these guns before we get pulled, my nig,” Veto suggested with the mind to toss everything.

“Bruh, chill!” Art shouted, and then checked the speedometer to make sure he wasn't speeding. “We good. Just . . . sit back and chill.”

“Look, man. You're the one talkin' ‘bout shit ain't right. Now look what the fuck just happened! Who the hell called the po-po and gave 'em the description of your truck?”

“'On't fuckin' know, bruh! Who I look like? A fuckin' psychic or sumthin'! Just . . . we good. Lemme call this bitch right quick.”

Veto frowned as Art made a call.

“Yeah, hello? Who's calling?” a female answered.

Art sucked his teeth. “Yo, lemme talk to Jamilah.”

“Who's calling?”

Art sighed. “Art! Now put Jamilah on the phone!”

“Damn, Mr. No Patience. Hold on?”

Art turned on the high beams as he drove down a back road leaving the city behind.

“Hey, baby,” Jamilah answered a minute later. “What's up with you?”

“Bullshit!”

“Huh?”

“Look, you know I can't say too much over this phone, right?”

“I'm listening.” She sounded worried.

“Somebody talking.”

“How! Do Swagga know—”

“Nah, just listen. Yo, somebody called the police before we could ah . . . go see our boy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And they knew what I was driving.”

“Ohh fuck!” she groaned. “Where are you now?”

“Leaving West Palm Beach.”

“Where Veto?”

“Right here with me. Look, get my car and meet me at my aunt's house in Opa Locka. And yo, where Nashlly?”

“In the kitchen playing cards.”

“She made any calls in the last thirty minutes?”

“. . . Ah, not that I know of, baby. I hope you aren't suggesting she called—”

“I just don't trust that ‘ho!”

“I don't see her doing that, Art. But damn, somebody had to call.”

“This shit is all fucked up, so I'ma lay low for a minute.”

“What about Swagga?”

“Jamilah! Didn't you just hear what I said! Somebody tipped the police off!”

“But—”

“But—my ass! I already did that dumb shit the first time and damn near got ran off a fucking bridge! Listen, whatever plans you had wit' Swagga, don't change it.”

“Baby, I'm scared. What if—”

“Hold up! Don't start that shit, so stay calm. Okay?”

“I'm trying.”

“Look. I'll see you later. Oh wait. Never mind, I'll holler atcha later.”

“Okay, bye. Baby, wait. Do you want me to tell Nashlly what's up?”

“Uh . . . no. But bring her with you.”

“Okay. I'm leaving now.”

Art ended the call as Veto adjusted the settings on the police scanner. “We going to my aunt's crib,” Art said, wishing he had a cigarette.

“And then what?” Veto sat up waiting for an answer.

“Between you and me—fuck all this shit. Fuck Jamilah, fuck Swagga, and fuck D-Hot! I'ma hit the stash, gas up my Impala, and go visit my fam' up in New Bern, North Carolina. Ain't ‘bout to risk my life or freedom, so fuck 'em both. So what you gon' do?”

Veto scratched his ear, grinning. “Shit, you ain't leaving me down here. I'm goin' with you, my nig.”

***

Ariana softly nudged Jurnee on her shoulder, waking her.

“Your phone is ringing,” Ariana muttered, flipping her pillow over.

“What time is it?” Jurnee asked with her head under the covers.

Ariana sat up rubbing her tired eyes before she focused on the digital clock across her bedroom. “Um . . . three twenty-two.”

Jurnee mumbled a few words before throwing the covers off her head. She answered the call without checking the ID.

“Hello?” Jurnee said, lying on her side.

“Uh, Jurnee, this is Ruby. I'm glad you answered. I was told to call you and inform you that there's been a shooting—”

Jurnee sat up. “Who was shot?”

“All I can say is that you're to meet Ms. Babin at the morgue.”

“Ruby! Who was shot? I need to know, dammit!”

Ariana was slipping out of the bed when Jurnee gasped, dropping the cell phone. Things moved with an urgency as the two women got dressed. Jurnee was unable to control her emotions as tears ran unchecked down her face. Ariana was at Jurnee's side to comfort her, showing her compassion even in the early stages of their bond. Since Jurnee was too unstable to drive, Ariana drove off with Jurnee crying in the passenger seat of her SUV.

***

Janelle wiped her wet eyes as the white female homicide detective entered the small office. After they shook hands and introduced themselves, the detective offered Janelle a cup of coffee, which she declined.

“Thank you for making the time to talk to me,” Janelle said. “I'm sure it's been a hectic night and all.”

“Just the weather,” the detective replied, nodding at the rain streaked window behind Janelle.

“Can you tell me what you're at liberty to discuss?”

“Two victims. One female, shot twice in the face area. The male we found inside the car was shot multiple times, and the crime scene is still being processed.”

“Do you have an assumption of how it happened?”

The detective nodded. “I think it was a possible robbery attempt that went wrong. I think the suspect was caught in the middle of the act and killed the girl. But what I find interesting is no one heard any shots.”

Janelle wiped her eyes again. “I have the next of kin info your partner asked for.”

The detective and Janelle spoke for another few minutes before they parted. Janelle's mind was numb. She couldn't come to grips with the pain she had to face. Knowing her tears were meaningless, she was unable to stop them. The events were surreal to her, but yet the moment moved on, regardless of how she felt. She cried. Janelle prayed, asking for strength that she knew she needed in the approaching days.

When Jurnee arrived, she only had three words to say. “Is it . . . true?” she asked Janelle, hoping that a mistake had been made.

Janelle, with a somber expression, slowly nodded yes, and then embraced her friend in need of comfort.

CHAPTER

Twenty-Two

Guess What Happened?

February 8, 2012

Wednesday 2:30 pm South Beach, Florida

Two weeks later . . .

The sultry sun claimed its dominance over SoBe (South Beach) with the aid of the cloudless skies. With the beach beckoning temperature in the high 80s, Janelle and Jurnee lay out tanning on the sand. Both were topless, wearing yellow bikini bottoms. After attending two funerals in the past nine days, both were open to a more upbeat mood.

“How's Victor doing?” Jurnee asked Janelle about her fiancé.

“Working on a new novel,” Janelle replied as the heat warmed her back and legs.

“Tell 'im he better still put me on the cover of his next book.”

“I will,” Janelle said as two Asian women walked by with their small, big nippled titties exposed.

“Been a rough year, huh?” Jurnee said with her arms crossed under her chin.

“Yeah, and it's just the beginning,” Janelle added morosely.

“Uhm, about Trevon.”

“Don't wanna talk about it,” Janelle retorted, brushing sand off her elbow.

“All right. So, you were telling me about that last call you got from Brooke Vee.”

Janelle smoothed out the edges of her orange beach towel. Then she lay back down on her stomach facing Jurnee. “She called me like—an hour or so before they said it happened. She said D-Hot was over and that he came to say he was sorry for that stunt he pulled at the office.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Said something about him finding his chain, and she even put him on the line to apologize to me. I told him it was okay and that his main concern should be Brooke Vee since he accused her of stealing his chain.”

“I heard what you did for her baby.”

“I was there when her baby was born. The least I can do is make sure Brooke Vee's mom won't have any problems financially raising that child.”

Jurnee's face suddenly lit up when she spotted Ariana waving at her from the rollerblading path. The two had been inseparable since the day Jurnee left Trevon back on the 24th of last month.

“I see you and Ariana are doing well,” Janelle commented as she slid a wisp of hair off her cheek.

Jurnee beamed. “She's a breath of fresh air,” she said, waving back at Ariana before she took off down the crowded path rollerblading.

“Are you bringing her to the party tonight?”

Jurnee shrugged. “It depends if we can get out of the bed.”

“You are such a big freak.” Janelle laughed.

“Hey! Did you hear about Swagga being shot at?”

“When?”

“Last month. Ariana told me about it. She said there was a small story on it in the
Hip Hop Weekly.
”

“Girl, if it don't land on my desk, I don't know about it. But since you mentioned him, he's been keeping it low for a minute.”

“I think it's by force since Future and Drake and all them are tearing up the airwaves. It might be over for Swagga.”

“His problem. Not mine,” Janelle replied, welcoming the heat on her skin.

***

“Don't raise your voice at me, Anthony!” Tahkiyah said firmly as she packed her suitcase.

“Baby, you've only been home for twelve days and you're going back down there! It doesn't make any sense!”

“That's because you don't understand, okay?” she replied as she continued packing.

“I don't want you to go, Tahkiyah.”

“We've already discussed this.”

“Well, I'm not done discussing it, okay!”

“Anthony,” she said, looking at him across the bed, “in the next few minutes I'm walking out that door, and I'm getting in my car and I'm going back to Miami! In truth, it was never up for discussion.”

“Why!” he shouted, turning red. “Because you've turned this matter into an
obsession
!”

Tahkiyah took her glasses off her beautiful face. She stared at the man she cared deeply for. She had knowledge of the gossip that her co-workers and employees would remark behind her back about her and Anthony.
“Oh, she like a little cream in her coffee”, “If it ain't white, it ain't right for Tahkiyah”, “She got money, so only a white man will suit her.”

Tahkiyah had a
reason
for not dating black men, a
reason
that was a pain only she knew. Eyeing Anthony, she spoke clearly. “Are you saying I'm being compulsive and unreasonable about this?”

“No. I just—”

“Yes, you damn well did! Look up the meaning of the word! And while you're at it, Anthony, look up the word finished because that's what we are! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to pack for this
obsession
that is driving me crazy.”

“Okay, I get it,” he said, pointing at her. “You want to be with a black guy.”

“What!” she shouted. “What makes you think—”

He snatched her laptop off the bed. “I saw the videos you downloaded, Tahkiyah. The black sex porn? You didn't have to hide it behind my back! You lied to me about everything!” he rebuked her, shaking the laptop.

“Anthony, I—”

“Save it!” he shouted with an odd grin on his face. “I know what this . . . little trip is all about, Tahkiyah,” he said, walking around the bed. “Before we got together, you were dating another white man. Warren, the VP of Integrated Marking for that automotive magazine. And before him it was that college professor, white as well. And I know of your past love life because you've confided in me, baby.” Dropping the laptop back on the bed, he smiled, easing his hands on her waist. “You don't have to leave, okay? If you're missing or just
curious
about being with a black man, bring him here. Let me watch him fuck you. Is that what you want?”

Tahkiyah smiled. “Are you sure?”

Reluctantly, he nodded yes.

“But, baby,” she wooed, sliding her hands up his chest. “What about that old adage that people always say?”

“What adage?” he asked as she toyed with his silk tie.

“You know . . .” She grinned. “The one about once you go black, you never go back. Since you've seen the porn. Can you measure up?” She shoved him, erasing the smile on his face. “What the hell is wrong with you? Going through my shit behind my back! Fuck you, Anthony!” she screamed furiously.

“But, baby, I thought—” he began to plead his mistake.

“You thought wrong,
white
boy! This is one cup of coffee you can cancel ever tasting again! Now do this black woman a favor and get the fuck out of my house!”

***

At the same time across the vast Atlantic Ocean, Swagga was ballin' along a stretch of the Autobahn expressway in Germany. He was seated behind the wheel of a yellow Porsche 911 GT3 maxed out at 195 miles per hour with Nashlly filling the passenger seat. In the wake of the GT3 was a jet black Audi R8 being driven by Rick. The trip to Germany was a much needed vacation for Swagga, which had started a day after the code black.

Swagga was getting used to Nashlly's company and super climatic sex. Just two days ago, he had purposefully flaunted her in Paris, France just to get the paparazzi riled up and to keep his name buzzing. She was eating the attention up and keeping her lips or legs wrapped around Swagga every chance she got.

Swagga's mind was elsewhere. He tried to conceal his stress from everyone, including Rick. For some reason he couldn't find peace. Peace of mind is what he seeked. He just wanted to rap and make music. As he sped toward the horizon, he tried to put the bullshit behind him. For starters, his conscience was afflicted ever since his successful plot resulted in D-Hot's murder. Swagga had discovered through his legal team that D-Hot had snitched him out to the U.S. Marshals.

Swagga's plane was never going to Morocco that night. D-Hot had set up his fake escape after tricking Swagga into wiring $75,000,000 to his account. Now, D-Hot was dead, along with Brooke Vee, who was just at the wrong place at the worst time.

***

Back in the state of Florida, Kendra was taking a shower with Trevon. The two had easily rekindled their secret sexual bond, and neither had any objections about it.

“I was just thinking about something,” Kendra said, rubbing the soapy rag over his chest. “Remember when we did it at my house that night? Why were you so trusting of me to not use any protection?”

“Trevon was caught off guard by her serious question. “Shit, I guess I just got caught up in the moment.”

“Has that happened before? I'm bringing this up because the mess Swagga did behind my back scared me.”

Trevon removed his hand from her wet bouncy ass. “Um, since I've been outta prison I only went um, raw with three women. You, LaToria, and Jurnee.”

“You're not afraid of the risk you're taking?”

Trevon sighed. “Everything just moving so fast for me. I come home and find myself living a life that I only thought was a dream. LaToria and I hook up, and then we breakup over some bullshit.”

“And I popped up,” she said, grinning up at him.

“Hell yeah!” he said. “My sexy ass probation officer that looks so much like Jill Scott. One minute you're trying to send me back to prison . . .”

“And the next I'm fucking you like it's my mission in life.”

“That sounds about right. But to be honest with ya, I've made a bunch of mistakes since I've been out.”

“Including me?”

“Picture that,” he said, palming her ass again.

“I'm happy to hear that. And I'm glad you respected my decision about using protection when we hook up.”

Kendra had managed to have Trevon assigned to her case load two weeks ago. She would show up at his door no less than four times a week. When she was with Trevon he made her feel desired. Her stance was still the same. Sex with no emotional strings attached.

“I can't believe what I'm about to do with you,” she said, stroking his soapy penis.

Trevon licked both of her swollen nipples as she continued to work her grip up and down his manhood. “You sure you want this to happen?”

She nodded yes. “My friend thinks I'm a square when it comes to sex. Doing a threesome has always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Who's it really for? You or her? I don't want you to start tripping on me if we do this.”

Kendra squeezed his dick. “You're not my man,” she reminded him. “Tonight is my night. It will be a one-time affair. Just the three of us, all right?”

Trevon was down to be a part of her fantasy. It was Kendra's kinky idea to invite her BFF Dani to join her and Trevon. She had explained to Trevon how Dani had showed her an unedited copy of his first film.

Telling the truth was easy for Kendra. She openly told Trevon that his first film changed her attitude toward him. Kendra knew about the crush Dani had on Trevon and a few other AEF actors. Not only would Kendra do a threesome. She was allowing the freaky actions to be filmed. Everything was set and ready for Dani to make things happen.

Trevon wasn't surprised when Kendra hit him with a list of rules.

1.  Safe sex.
   
2.  No anal sex.
   
3.  No girl on girl.
   
4.  Leave the lights on.
   

When Dani showed up at his door, she was star-struck and tongue-tied. Kendra felt a 

Trevon fucked both women tirelessly in front of the camera. Dani turned out to be a screamer. Her loud moans and stuttering praises of Trevon's dick was an event itself. She yanked at the sheets, her big ass bouncing all over the place.

    Pussy became faceless and nameless to Trevon. He gave his all to both women, showing them the difference between making love and fucking. His focus was on the latter.

    Trevon later found himself relaxing alone in the tub. Kendra and Dani had left twenty minutes ago with an hour and a half of their sex on tape. Trevon had his eyes shut, reflecting on his life since he was released from prison. He didn't have much to complain about. He had a big body ride on 24's, a nice ass crib, and money on deck. Porn was his root, his foundation. The women he had been with crossed his mind. LaToria, Jurnee, Kendra, Linda, the cougar he fucked on the set of his first film, Ariana, Dani, Brooke Vee, and Cindy. He wasn't ready to claim Cindy since she had drugged his ass. And he added Chelsea from his second film.