Pink Lips (9 page)

Feeling his ears pop, Craig opened his mouth in an attempt to release the pressure. Trees and rooftops whizzed by as the aircraft made its final turn onto the waiting runway and ended with a mild rumbling as the tires kissed the tarmac. A loud rush of air giving pressure to the brakes slowly brought the plane to an Indy 500 speed, culminating into the final act of landing and then taxiing to the arrival gate.

“I guess I'll see you around.” Willow smiled his way.

“What about a number?” he asked as he smiled back at her.

“This is Philadelphia; we'll see each other again,” Willow said as she shook Kail to wake her up.

“You may now exit the plane,” the flight attendant's voice said on the loud speaker as the seatbelt light went from on to off.

Willow and Kail stood up, reached up to grab their carry-on bags, and exited the plane. Willow could feel Craig looking at her. His eyes piercing through her made her short of breath. She could feel his energy vibrating through her body.

Craig leaned back in his seat as other passengers passed him. He looked at Willow thinking maybe his lust had run her off. She looked back at him as they stared at each other for several moments. There was passion in their eyes that was more intense than just sex. She said goodbye without mouthing a word.

Willow and Kail exited the plane as lights shined above their heads. They headed to baggage claim, using the white arrows as their guide, to collect their belongings. They collected their luggage, picked the keys up to the car they had rented in advance, and
before they knew it, they were on the streets of Philly headed to their five-star hotel room to lay low.

Craig was on Willow's mind as the flashing traffic lights hit in and out of her eyes as she drove through the empty streets. It had been a long time since she had felt this way about a man. As she pulled into the entrance of the hotel, she wondered if she would ever see Craig again.

C
raig's heart pounded like a jackhammer as he saw Rock approach him with a sinister smile. He tried again to free his hands from their bonds; this time in hysterical desperation as he saw him slowly pull something from his pockets.

Rock inched forward, taking his time to enjoy the moment, and Craig's helplessness. His wrists burned from the constant scraping. Fresh beads of sweat started to form over his already drenched body as he saw a silver glint from the corner of his eye.

His body started shuddering and heaving when he saw what his sick instrument of torture was: pliers. Sadistic as Rock was, he laughed out loud when he saw Craig's realization. Rock came in close, and whispered in his ear, “I haven't spoken to or seen my daughter in three fucking months, and I think you know more than what you've admitted to me, boy.”

His words were strongly laced with malice, which sent a cold shiver down Craig's spine. Rock gently took hold of his hand after failed attempts of jerking away due to the bonds being too tight. Slowly, but firmly, he opened his fingers one at a time.

“Do you have something you want to admit?” Rock asked.

Craig shook his head no, never screaming from the pain as he felt the blood drain from his face as black spots danced in front of his eyes. He could feel the cold steel pincers around his middle finger.

“Tell me!” Rock screamed.

All Craig could do was squeeze his eyes shut, and bite down hard on his gag, waiting for the inevitable pain to end, as he started to feel the pressure build. His vision went in and out from the blood he'd lost. He never screamed but met his fate with silence.

“I don't think he knows anything, Pops.” Junior walked up to them. “Maybe Melee has gone away somewhere.”

Junior's height trumped his father as he stood next to him. The business suit specially tailored for him fitted his body perfectly. His hair was cut into a fade, and from first glance by his demeanor, he could easily be mistaken for a lawyer.

“Fuck that,” Rock spat. “She would never leave without telling me.”

Rock leaned on his desk as the watch on his arm slid down onto the top of his hand. His jaw clenched as he saw the picture of Melee looking at him, taunting him in a sense. He couldn't believe that his baby girl was gone without a trace, and the thought of her lying dead somewhere in a ditch or ocean infuriated him.

“Get this motherfucker outta my face,” Rock ordered the security as he took a seat behind his desk.

“She will show up.” Junior sat across from his father, his hands intertwined. “Melee is probably across the country shopping in a mall somewhere,” he said with a fake smile.

“You're probably right,” Rock agreed with hope. “Did anything turn up from the private investigators in Hawaii?” he asked as he gazed out of the window.

“Nothing at all.”

“Something just doesn't feel right.” Rock looked at his son. “Do you think she's dead?”

“Honestly?” He leaned back in the chair. “I don't know but to leave without a trace isn't like her.”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation as Tony
entered the room. He pulled out a cigar and lit it before taking a seat next to Junior. He took off his hat and set it on the desk as he puffed on the brown stick.

“Did I see Craig getting carried away?” Tony asked as he blew smoke out of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Junior stood up to leave, “Pops tortured him trying to get some information.”

“You still think young blood know something he not telling you?” Tony slammed the door closed behind Junior.

“I know he knows something and whatever he may know is the only reason he is alive.” Rock stood up to head to the meeting. He was late.

“I saw Vinny earlier,” Tony said as they entered the hallway to make it to the conference room.

“Are you sure?” Rock asked, never looking at him.

“I'm sure,” Tony assured as they approached the room. “And, by the time I looked for a second time, he had disappeared.”

Rock and Tony entered the conference room as a large square wood table sat directly in the middle with a group of his most loyal workers surrounding it. Rock took the head seat as the women surrounding the room poured drinks and passed out cigars. He eyed his workers as they all lit up their cigars.

The room was spacious with black-and-white photos covering the walls. There was everything a man in their line of work could need in the room. Smoke filled the air as gulps from men drinking their liquor could be heard.

“We have a problem.” Rock looked around the room. “Vinny has been spotted and as all of you know, I want his head,” his teeth started to show, “on my fucking wall. So with that being said, the first man to bring me the body of Vincent Mancini, will receive one million dollars in cash.”

The group of men all looked at each other with cold stares. Never in the Mafia history had a bounty been worth so much money. They all sat and observed the words coming out of Rock's mouth knowing that he was letting his personal feelings cloud his business mind.

“Also,” Rock closed his eyes, “the apple of my eye, Melee, is still missing. Anyone who can find her, give me a lead to find her, or give me any kind of information regarding her whereabouts, I'd pay two million dollars cash.”

“Make it five,” Evelyn said as she entered the room.

The men gawked at her appearance as she walked over next to Rock and leaned down. “Can I speak to you outside?” she asked with her lips, as red as a rose, almost touching his ear.

“Tony,” Rock stood up, “can you handle this?”

Tony nodded as they exited the room.

Evelyn walked a little bit quicker than Rock on purpose as her hair bounced to the rhythm of her heels. The lengthy white Prada dress hugged her body as it flowed gorgeously with each step that she took. The breathtaking diamond earrings that hung from her ears matched the wedding ring that hugged her ring finger.

“What's up?” Rock asked her, stopping in the middle of their wide, long hallway.

“Did I just hear you call a hit out on my father?” Evelyn asked as she folded her arms.

“I did,” Rock said calmly. “Your family is notorious for them, so I'd just thought I would take a page out of your book.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Evelyn, I don't have to answer shit you ask me. I'm the godfather around this motherfucker and if I want to call a hit on your ass, I can,” he said as he started to walk away.

“Don't forget who helped you get here, Rock.” Evelyn screamed after him. “I love you, but don't think for a minute that you can't be overthrown!”

Evelyn pulled out her cell phone as she went out the front door of their mansion. She hit the alarm to her BMW and got inside. She dialed a number as she drove around the fountain parking area, cutting on the air conditioner and making her hair blow wildly.

“You've been spotted, Poppa,” Evelyn said as she headed to the strip club that she owned.

“I know, Evelyn; I still have eyes everywhere in this city,” Vinny said.

“Just be careful; there's a large amount for your life, and if you're seen, it's over. Bye, Poppa,” she warned as she hung up.

Evelyn cruised down the streets as the thought of her one and only daughter, Melee, stayed on her mind. She always thought about if she was okay or not. As a mother, she had to keep hope in order to make it. As a businesswoman, she had to think of her as dead in order to conduct business. Already mourning for Melee, she hoped to see the day when it would have been for naught.

•  •  •

Willow looked over the city from her and Kail's spacious condo where they had recently moved. She looked down from the balcony, thinking of how they were going to make some major figures like they had done in Hawaii. With no connections in Philly, she had to figure out a way to get clientele.

“I'm tired of sitting in this house,” Kail said as she joined Willow on the balcony. “Look at this city,” she shoved her sister with her shoulder, “you know how much bread we can be raking in right now?”

“Kail, I know this.” Willow leaned over the rail, enjoying the tangent breeze from the snowstorm.

“We have been hiding out for three months. Three long months, Will; ain't nobody looking for us so let's get back to this money.” Kail handed her a golden container.

“Making money for me has never been an issue.” Willow grabbed the container and opened it, revealing the never-used powder-pink lipstick inside. “But, we don't have clients like we did in Hawaii. We need to build a rapport with these big names here.”

“So let's do it.”

Willow slid the smooth lipstick up as she put her lips together. She put the cold mush on her lips perfectly without a flinch. She had been putting on this lipstick for thirteen years; she didn't need a mirror. She put her lips together as the color that she loved, and hated at the same time, once again marked her identity.

“It's a strip club I heard about before we even made it back here.” Willow walked into the condo with Kail trailing. “Can you get a rifle scope?” she asked as she thought of a plan.

Willow's eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lights in the room. She looked at the small fire burning on one side of the wall, surrounded by a huge, brown couch and a rocking chair with red pillows. She looked to her left and saw a large dining table, with several chairs around it, a small closet with lots of dishes and glasses behind it, and several mirrors on the sides of the partially separated room.

Near the middle of the living room were three large red sofas forming a “U” with a low table in front of them. Only a large vase sat with three beautiful red roses in front of the sofas with a big TV stand with two units on each side.

“I can find anything.” Kail took the scarf off her head, letting her long, delicate hair that she'd wrapped earlier fall into place.

“I know.” Willow went into the kitchen and took down two wine glasses from a rack. “Listen closely, because this should get us some quick cash, a new Pink Lip Bandit, and some clientele.”

“A new Pink Lip Bandit?” Kail watched Willow pour their glasses half full with Moët. “You know I don't work well with others.”

“Don't worry.” Willow handed her the glass. “It's somebody you would like.”

“So what's the plan?” Kail took a sip from the wine with her ears completely open.

“Are you down to make a move tonight?” Willow asked.

“Like shoes.” Kail leaned back on the countertop and listened to the plan that took Willow five minutes to devise.

W
illow walked into Sweet Lips, an upscale strip club off the beaten path of northeast Philly as the Fendi dress hugged her petite frame. Her hair was a rich shade of mahogany, which flowed in waves to adorn her glowing, porcelain-like skin. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, were a bright hazel with hints of emerald-green that seemed to brighten the world. A straight nose, full lips; she appeared to be perfection and she knew it.

From around the corner, she could hear the somnolent buzz of the eponymous neon-red lips out front, providing a backdrop for the clinking of glasses and drone-like chatter of hundreds of niggas who were ready to spend their money and bitches who would do anything for it. She bit her lips from the excitement of the dough she was about to rack up.

The brisk cold wind from the snowstorm entered the joint with her as the intermingled smells of smoke and sweat and too many people instantly assaulted her nostrils as she inhaled deeply.
Ahhh, it's good to be home and out the house
, she thought aloud while pushing her body through the pulsating crowd as her heels clicked with anticipation.

Finding her way to an empty barstool in the corner, she caught several men's eyes. She shook her head and smiled downward laughing to herself at the nonstop glances she received. She wasn't new to the attention. She was used to men gawking at her.