The Secrets of Silk (28 page)

“Yeah, but it might not be a good idea to go up there and interrupt the card game.”

Silk threw two dollars on the bar and said, “Keep the change.” She rushed out of the bar and stomped up the metal stairs that led to the apartments over top. She knocked on the door of apartment number two, and when no one responded quickly enough, she began pounding hard, as if she had a warrant for Tate's arrest.

A fair-skinned, mature woman with crinkly, caramel-colored hair cracked open the door. She was attractive if you could look past the crow's feet and the fine lines etched on her face.

“Is Tate here?” Silk inquired.

“Who's asking?” Sounding confrontational, the woman arched a brow and looked Silk up and down. The woman had an air of confidence about her that Silk didn't like one bit. Although she was a fading beauty, the woman was dressed to the nines and wore lots of glittery jewelry. She looked much too high class to be in a dismal joint like this.

“Who do you think you are—Tate's bodyguard or something?” Silk asked with a look of contempt.

“I'm Arvetta Lewis—and you're on my property.”

Ah, so this is the former beauty queen that Franny was talking about.

“Do me a favor,
Miss Sepia,”
Silk said with a smirk. “Tell Tate that Silk wants to have a word with him.”

Arvetta flinched at the verbal jab that Silk had made when referring to a title she'd achieved a few decades ago. Quickly recovering, Arvetta straightened her shoulders and took on a pompous expression. “I can't disturb Sweet Daddy right now.” Arvetta wore an amused smile that pissed Silk off so badly, she pushed the door open and shoved the aging beauty queen aside.

“Have you lost your mind? You can't barge in here like that.”

“Fuck you, bitch. I can do whatever I want!”

“Get out of here before I'm forced to call the police.” Arvetta grasped Silk's arm.

Silk broke free and ran through the tiny living room and toward a short corridor. “Tate!” Silk bellowed.

“What the hell is going on?” Tate came out of a room and closed the door behind him. He was bare-chested, and wearing only a pair of iridescent pants with the fly hanging wide open, revealing a dark forest of pubic hair.

“I thought you were supposed to be playing cards, but obviously your ass is up to no good.”

“It's not what it looks like, baby,” Tate said in a placating tone. “I was only doing Arvetta a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” With a confused expression, Silk looked from Arvetta to Tate. Arvetta was fully clad in her expensive clothes, and Tate was half-dressed. “Who's in that room?” Silk hurriedly opened the door and gasped when she saw a woman with large, beautiful eyes and creamy dark-brown skin sitting up in bed with a sheet wrapped around her waist. Her bare breasts were large and full with jet-black nipples that puckered as if they'd been recently sucked. A shiny, blonde wig flowed past the woman's shoulders, giving her the appearance of a whore.

Silk couldn't make sense of what her eyes beheld. Franny had told her that prostitutes resided in the apartments above the bar, but Silk couldn't understand why a man as confident and good-looking as Tate would stoop so low as to pay for sex with a whore.

“What were you doing with that wig-wearing bitch?” Silk demanded.

“I can explain.”

“I can't believe that you were fucking that whore!” Livid, Silk hauled off and slapped the shit out of Tate, and then tried to claw at his face. He grabbed her hands and restrained her.

“That's enough, Silk. If you don't calm your ass down, I'm gonna fuck you up,” Tate threatened in a tone that anyone in their right mind would take seriously. But Silk wasn't in her right mind. Insanely jealous, she balled her fists and pounded on Tate's chest, instigating a fight.

Tate grabbed Silk by the shoulders and shook her until her brains rattled, but she kept swinging at him. “Get your hands off of me, you no-good, two-timing motherfucker!”

Although Tate and Silk had been keeping their romance undercover, Silk was so incensed, she had no control over what came out of her mouth. Unable to cause Tate any bodily harm with her fists, she picked up a lamp and tried to knock him upside the head, but he weaved out of the way, and the porcelain base of the lamp shattered against the wall.

“I don't need this kind of trouble!” Arvetta shrieked. “I run a peaceful joint and this kind of ruckus is bad for business. This hussy is gonna scare off my paying customers and bring the cops
to my door. Do something, Sweet Daddy! Whip that bitch's ass and drag her off my property.” Arvetta spoke as if she had authority over Tate.

“Arvetta, sweetheart, I need you to do me a favor,” Tate said while confining Silk in a bear hug. Silk was so irate, she began stomping her feet while screaming and crying.

Arvetta looked at Tate suspiciously. “What sort of favor?”

“Take Peaches to one of the other apartments. All I need is twenty minutes with Silk, and I'll have her under control.”

“You better do more than control her. Get her ass out of here,” Arvetta spat, narrowing her eyes at Tate.

“I will.”

Arvetta beckoned the petrified woman who was shivering in the bed. “Don't bother getting dressed. Cover up with the sheet, Peaches, and let's go.”

Peaches wrapped the sheet around her nude body and dashed past Silk as if she were darting away from a caged animal that might break loose and attack her.

The moment Arvetta and Peaches left the apartment, Tate released Silk. “Baby…baby,” he said in a pacifying tone as he cupped her face tenderly. “What the hell is your problem? Why'd you come over here starting a bunch of bullshit?” Though using profanity, his voice and facial expression remained tender and caring.

Silk moaned in anguish. In all of her nineteen years, she'd never suffered through the kind of heartache she was experiencing in that moment. “What the fuck is going on, Tate? I thought I was your woman, but you've been playing me for a fool.”

“No, that's not true.”

“Then why were you in here fucking that whory-looking bitch and calling that ex-beauty queen, sweetheart? I don't know what to make of all this.”

“I can explain everything.” Tate patted the edge of the bed.

“I'm not sitting on the bed you just got finished fucking on.” Silk folded her arms across her chest and remained standing.

“I didn't fuck Peaches. I admit, I was going to, but all that pounding on the door made my dick go soft.”

“Why, Tate? Don't I give you all the sex you need? I'm with you damn near every day out of the week, and I'm only with Buddy on the weekend.”

Tate laughed derisively. “You have a lot of nerve coming over here wrecking the place and trying to fight me, all because you caught me with another woman. Did it ever occur to you that I might want revenge for having to share you with your husband?”

“But I don't love Buddy. I love you.” Silk sat down and put her arms around Tate.

“So you say.” He pried her arms from around his neck. The look in his eyes was icy cold. “Look, maybe it's time for me and you to cool it. Arvetta is running a business in these apartments, and I don't need you breaking in here, acting crazy.”

“I'm sorry, Tate, but I saw red when I realized you were in bed with that bitch. Are you trying to break up with me over a goddamn whore?”

“It's not what you think.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I'll be straight with you. Peaches is a new girl who wants to work for Arvetta. You know, turning tricks. But before Arvetta puts a new whore with any of her valued customers, she likes for me to give the girl a good workout in bed to find out her strengths and weaknesses.” Tate spoke in a normal tone as if he were discussing something as mundane as the weather.

“Why do
you
have to be who has to fuck her whores? Why can't she get one of the bartenders or someone else to do it?”

“It's only business, baby. I never told you this, and you have to promise to keep it under your hat.” Tate eyed Silk, waiting for her response.

“I promise.”

“Mr. Bob is the biggest colored racketeer in the city. He has his hands in a little bit of everything…numbers, narcotics, prostitution, and bootlegging. I've been working for him and his wife, Arvetta, since I was seventeen. The three of us are thick as thieves. I'm like the son they never had.”

“Mm-hmm. Is that why you called her sweetheart?” Silk said with envy dripping from every word.

“That didn't mean anything, I call all women sweetheart. I've known Arvetta all my life. I call my own mother sweetheart, and Arvetta is like a second mother to me.”

“Any fool can see that there's a lot more than a mother and son relationship between you and that woman.”

“If Arvetta was my woman, do you think she'd be willing to share me with her girls?”

Silk shrugged. “All I know is I don't like her uppity ass, and I want you to stick to running numbers, and let her find another stud to fuck her whores.”

“It's a deal. After the way you acted, I'll be keeping my dick in my pants unless I'm sharing it with you.”

Silk blushed and lifted her mouth up to Tate's luscious lips.

“The way you were fighting and scratching made my dick hard for some reason. You gon' give me some pussy or do I have to fight you for it?” Tate asked with laughter as he pulled down his pants.

His heavy, hanging meat was a delight to Silk's eyes and her hands shook with excitement as she drew his stiffening dick toward her open mouth. She ran her tongue along the underside of
his shaft, lathering it up and murmuring, “I love you, Tate,” between tongue strokes.

“Shh. Don't talk, baby. Concentrate on sucking this dick.”

And Silk sucked it for all she was worth. She moaned and was close to shedding tears of pleasure as she filled her mouth with Tate's hard dick. For some reason, Tate was giving her the rough treatment, pulling her hair and cursing under his breath as he deeply embedded his dick down her throat. As he exploded, he wrapped her long hair around his fists and yanked her head harshly. And for reasons unknown to Silk, she loved the way that Tate was man-handling her. As she swallowed his creamy seed, she smiled dreamily imagining the rough ride of pleasure she was going to have when he climbed on top of her.

Tate's body jerked as Silk sucked out the last drop of goodness. Self-satisfied, she began to undress. Tate watched her with a gleam in his eyes. Once Silk was completely naked, she lay on her back and began enticing Tate by fingering her pussy.

But instead of mounting her, Tate walked over to the closet.

Silk's pussy was clenching up so tightly, it caused her physical pain. “Where you going, baby? Get over here and get some of this.”

Tate didn't reply. He took a wire hanger out of the closet and methodically began bending, twisting, and reshaping it into a sinister-looking weapon.

Silk chuckled nervously. “What are you gonna do with that hanger?”

“You came over here and showed your ass, and made me look like a chump in front of one of the new girls. How can I expect my bitches to take me seriously and show me respect if they see you busting in here and slapping me across the face?”

“I'm sorry about hitting you. I lost my temper.” Silk looked away
briefly and then stared Tate in the eyes. “I thought you said that whore worked for Arvetta.”

“It's complicated. Technically, all the girls work for Arvetta, but I get a share of the profits for fucking them and beating their asses when they act up.”

Silk flinched. Had Arvetta turned Tate into a pimp? She hated the idea of Tate having sexual relations with anyone other than her, and was desperate to figure out a way to get him away from Arvetta and those whores. Silk's mind was swimming with ideas when she cast a quick glance at the hanger, which Tate was lifting upward in an ominous manner.

“I'd be less than a man if I let you get away with what you did.”

“I said I was sorry; what more can I say?”

“It's too late for sorry; you need to be taught a lesson,” he said in an icy tone.

Silk suddenly understood his intentions, but before she could spring up from the bed and flee, Tate pounced on her. Wielding a bent hanger, he attacked her, striking her on her thighs, hips, and arms. She struggled to escape to no avail. She kicked and screamed as he forced her onto her belly. Holding her in place, he flogged her ass, her back, and her shoulders. It seemed as if the wire hanger was burning into her flesh, and no amount of tears or pleading could persuade Tate to stop beating her. In the blink of an eye, the man she loved had changed into someone she didn't know—a sadistic stranger without an ounce of compassion.

When the brutal beating was finally over, amazingly, he took her in his arms and kissed her—tenderly. What was even more bizarre was Silk's reaction. She kissed him back with a yearning and desperation she had never known. Licking into his mouth, she whispered his name over and over, but she didn't call him
Tate. The name she murmured with reverence in her voice was,
Sweet Daddy.