Ruthless (2 page)

And I will go on with my life as if nothing ever happened
tonight. As if I hadn't laid eyes on this bitch in almost two weeks. I will pretend she never existed. As if, minutes ago, I'd never pulled the trigger, blowing a hole in the back of her head.

I grab a pair of latex gloves, then the toolbox from under the cabinet and take out a wrench and a pair of pliers, then place the toolbox back in its place.

“Oh, aiight. You still there?”

I walk back into my office. “Yes.” He already knows where to park his trucks. Around the back of the building as we discussed. He knows to enter through the emergency exit door on the side of the building where the staff lounge is. I snap my fingers, suddenly remembering something.
Yes, that's exactly what I need.
A large bag of ice and a cooler. I pull out the key to my storage closet, unlocking it, then taking out what I need. One last piece to finish this bitch off.

“Aiight, bet. I got you. I'ma holla at my crew now. They're already on standby. We should be there in a few.” He tells me they'll work around the clock until they have shit right. That by the time I land in Newark on Tuesday morning from L.A., everything will be in order. My office will be good as new.

“Perfect. You're a lifesaver, literally.”

“I tol' you, I got you. It's
whatever
.”

Nothing else is said. I turn off the phone, removing its
SIM
card before smashing the phone into pieces. I scoop up the pieces and dump them into the wastebasket that will go out along with the rest of the
trash
. I slip on the gloves. Then call Felecia's cell. Wait for it to roll over into her voicemail, then leave a message. “Felecia, this is Pasha. I've been at the salon waiting on you for almost two damn hours now. Bitch, the least you could have done is called and told me you changed your mind, or something else came up. Whatever.”

I smirk, ending the call. Then stalk back over to her body, narrowing my eyes. “Gossiping bitch,” I snap, slapping her face with the wrench. Her neck snaps to one side where it stays. I hit her upside the head, banging what's left of her skull in. “Fucking bitch! I don't hear you popping shit now! Worthless bitch! What was that you said about being pregnant? Oh, wait. You're dead!”

I kick her in the stomach. Then reach into her mouth, grab a hold of her tongue, yanking it out, then start hacking into it with the knife. I saw and cut into the still-warm organ until I finally have it sawed off. Then I take the pliers, twisting and yanking out every last one of her teeth.

Unfazed by the pool of blood surrounding her head, soaking into the carpet, splashed all over me, I glance at her body, one last time, sighing. “Now look at you, stupid, dead, toothless bitch!”

I spit in her bloody, mangled face, then lean in and finish her off.

The game of seduction can turn deadly when temptation gets in the way…

W
ednesday morning, as I'm walking into the salon quarter-to-eight with Lamar and Mel behind me, my cell rings. I reach down into the side pocket of my purse, pulling it out, glancing at the caller ID. It's Thick Seven.

In spite of what's going on inside my head, I smile. Hearing his smooth, dreamy voice on the other end of the line is a welcomed distraction. And if I'm completely honest with myself, I really like him. But I know he's a diversion I don't need right now. I can't risk it. After the things I've done over the last weekend—and the things that I'm about to do, I need to stay on course. Can't lose perspective. So this thing between us is going to have to end, sooner than later. Besides, he's someone else's nigga who I've been regularly borrowing for the last several months.

“Hey,” I say, answering before his call gets sent to voicemail. I leave Lamar and Mel up front, heading toward my office. I unlock the door, immediately greeted by the smell of fresh paint and new carpet. The walls are now a soft pink. The carpet is a rich chocolate brown. Everything is put back in its place. Any signs of my bloody deed from Sunday night have been scrubbed down, painted over, pulled up, and discarded.

“What's good, beautiful? How you?”

I yawn in his ear. “Ooh, excuse me,” I quickly say, apologizing.

“Oh, you good, baby. Sounds like someone had a late night.”

“Yeah, I did.” I sit my bag on top of my desk. “I didn't get much sleep.”

Fact is, instead of flying back from L.A. Monday night like I had intended to, I stayed an extra day to spend it with my Jaylen, giving Sophia and Greta a break. So I took the red-eye last night instead. And landed a little after seven this morning. Then, instead of going home, I had Mel pick me up from the airport to get my car from Lamar's boy's body shop, then drove straight here with him following behind me.

So here I am…at the salon, pretending.

That I hadn't initiated burning down three of Jasper's stash houses; that I'm not planning to burn down three more—this week.

That I hadn't sucked Stax's dick and swallowed his creamy nut Saturday night; that I hadn't allowed him to rock my pussy with his tongue and fingers, then his hard dick right here in my office, enjoying every last thick inch of him.

That I hadn't turned on my laptop, logged into my Deep Throat Diva AOL account and reached out to the nigga who attacked me in my yard, then harassed me for not sucking his dick, making plans to slice off his fucking balls.

That I hadn't murdered Felecia, taking a serrated knife and hacking out her tongue
after
shoving a gun in her mouth and blowing a hole in the back of her skull.

The first person on my list to take down.

Yes, I am pretending. The curtain is up. The stage has been set. The script is written. The spotlights are on. The scenes are playing out quite nicely. And there's nothing anyone can do or say to stop what's about to happen next. So onlookers might as well sit back, relax, nibble on their proverbial popcorn, and wait for the drama to unfold. Because shit's about to get real.

Images of Stax's hard dick pop into my head. I grin, licking my lips and pressing my thighs together. Whether he likes it or not, shit between him and Jasper is about to change quickly. No matter how hard Stax tries, it'll never be the same between them. How could it be after I put it on him? To think, the divide that is about to come between them is by my own doing. And all it took was a few shed tears and a good dick suck to break his resolve.

Yes. Coercive manipulation. All a part of the plan. To milk him, suck him, edge Stax, into giving me what I need. I haven't heard from him since I sucked the nut out of him, and coated his tongue with my pussy cream. And right now, it's probably for the best.

I open my bottom drawer, grab my handbag and pull out the slip of paper with the list of names Cassandra wrote out, then reach for a pen and write the nigga AJ's address she'd given me next to his name. Then I add two more names to the list, underscoring each one.

K
ILLA

J
AH

The two names Stax had given me. I stare at the paper. He refused to tell me any more than this. Refused to rat out the rest of the niggas Jasper recruited in his sick, twisted attack on me. But I'm fine with it. He's told me enough,
for now.

Until
I suck him down into my throat, again. And there will be a next time. No matter how hard he tries to fight it, Stax will come back for more.

I glance at the paper again. These two niggas are the ones who kidnapped me. Now, altogether, I have six names, not including Jasper's. And one of the niggas is already handled thanks to Booty killing him. I draw a line through JT's and Felecia's names.

And this bitch, along with JT, is also considered missing, thanks to me! No. Thanks to her fucking mouth!

Two down!

Even if I can't track down every last one of the motherfuckers who played a part in my assault, I'm okay with getting at the ones I do know. One by one, they're going to get dropped. Until the only one left standing is Jasper. Saving the best for last.

“I wanna see you, yo,” Thick Seven says, slicing into my thoughts. “But I know shit's hectic right now so I'ma be easy and let you do you.”

“I appreciate that,” I say, running a hand through my hair. He wants to know when I'm going back to L.A. I don't tell him I just returned this morning. Or that I'm going back Sunday morning. It's none of his business. Being away from my son is killing me. Has me feeling empty and alone. I know it's only been six days since I moved Jaylen and Sophia out to L.A. and asked Greta to be his temporary caretaker until this mess with Jasper is over. Until I am free of him, once and for all. Still living without my son, no matter how short term it is, is one of the hardest things I am dealing with. The aching in my heart is like no other. But I know it's for the best.

And sucking this nigga's dick isn't going to fill that void. Nor is giving him some pussy. And it isn't going help me do what needs to be done.

He lets out a slight chuckle. “I can't get enough of you, baby. Seems like goin' to Cali is the only way I'm gonna be able to get at you and that magical tongue of yours again.” He lowers his smooth voice. “I wanna feel them pretty-ass lips up on this dick, soon, baby. Damn. Every time I talk to you, my shit gets hard.”

I smirk, looking up when someone knocks on my door. I cover the mouthpiece and tell whoever's on the other side of the door to come in. “Well, I'm glad to know I have that kind of effect on you,” I say, avoiding his initial question.

“You definitely do. But look, baby, I gotta bounce. Just wanted to hear that sexy-ass voice of yours. And let you know this dick's hard for you. Stay sweet, babe.”

“I always do,” I say, ignoring the remark about his hard dick. I end the call as Lamar walks in, a black backpack slung over his left shoulder, shutting the door behind him.

Trust no one without knowing their agenda, or end up their next perfect prey…

“What's up?” I say, quickly glancing up at the surveillance monitor.

Now keeping this nigga's dick in my throat is definitely going to get me what I need…and want.

Lamar drops his backpack to the floor, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of me. He glances around the office, then lands his gaze on me. “So what you think? E'erything good?”

I nod. Tell him everything's perfect. That his crew did a phenomenal job patching up the bullet holes and repainting the walls and tearing up the old carpet. I thank him, pulling out my handbag.

“I hope you know how much I appreciate you,” I state, getting up from my desk, then opening my closet and going into my safe.

“You good, Pasha. I tol' you, it's whatever.”

I pull out fifty thousand dollars in stacks of hundreds banded together, stuffing the money into a black gym bag. Then shut and lock the safe, walking over and handing the bag to him.

He looks at the bag. “Yo, what's this for?”

“Compensation for handling that situation Saturday night. Then taking care of the mess I made in here Sunday night.” He made sure Jasper's stash houses were burned down to the ground early Saturday morning. Then handled disposing Felecia's butchered body late Sunday night for me. I don't know what he did
with her. Okay, okay…I do know. But all I say for now is, like JT's body, she won't be found.

He unzips the bag, looking inside. Then quickly zips it back. “Nah, you good, Pasha. Handling that nigga for you is on the house, ma; feel me? That pussy-ass nigga had that shit coming, and then some. Besides, we copped all the work and weapons that nigga had up in them spots. So we good.”

I nod knowingly. The deal was, he got to keep whatever drugs and weapons they confiscated before burning each stash house down. But whatever money they find comes to me. I meant what I said when I said I am going to take every dime of Jasper's I can get my hands on. I'm going to leave that nigga penniless and broken—or damn near close to it—by the time I'm done with him.

Lamar eyes me. “So how you? You
good
?”

I swipe my bang over my forehead, nodding. “Yeah. I'm as good as I can be, considering.” I lower my voice, glancing up at the security monitor. “I mean, it's not every day I blow my own cousin's head off, have her body disposed of, then arrange to have three of my future ex-husband's stash houses burned down.”

He nods knowingly. “I feel you. But you good, though, right?”

“Bitch! You want the fucking truth? Then here it is raw and uncut: I love you. But I fucking hate you more! And, yes, I sucked Jasper's dick! There, you satisfied! I sucked his dick, okay! Why? Because I fucking wanted to! You didn't fucking deserve a nigga like him! Bitch, you had it good. Jasper gave you anything you wanted, and that shit still wasn't enough for you. You still went and shitted on him. It's always about you, bitch! Pasha this, Pasha, that! The fly bitch who always gets what she wants. Who always gets all the right niggas eating outta the palm of her goddamn hands!

“And bitches like me, who know how to treat a good man, gotta
stand on the sidelines and watch bitches like you fuck over all the good men….”

I blink, shaking that two-faced bitch's voice from my thoughts as I take in Lamar's smooth, dark skin. Then gaze at the way his biceps flex as he runs his thick hands through his locks. “I'm more than good. What was done needed—no
had
, to be done. And I
don't
regret it. None of it.”

He cups his chin in the palm of his hand, tugging lightly at his close-cut goatee. “That's wasssup. Like I tol' you, the only way to get rid of a snake is to chop its head off.”

“And that's
exactly
what I did when I took that bitch's head off.” I shift in my chair, crossing my feet at the ankles.