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“That’s nice. I’m telling you to talk.”
“Am I supposed to obey your every order? Because this shit is for the birds.” I passed the blunt to him and he grinned. His smile was sharp as a knife and I was willing to get cut.
“Not all the time, but right now, yes.” I watched him through hazy smoke clouds and lowered eyes. Even though he oozed luxury, there was still something cold and rough about him that excited me.
I was stuck between wanting to fight against his words and wanting to tell him. Keeping my memories bottled up all the time hurt. Those memories had teeth and sharp edges. Maybe it would feel better if I let some of them out to someone besides Jay.
“Am I really being considered for the Kings?” I asked before I cracked open my chest and spilled out my pain.
“You know you are. I’m not the type of man to bullshit about something like that.” He handed me the blunt and I inhaled, watching him closely. He was dressed in a white Supreme t-shirt, a distressed jean jacket, and a pair of black jeans leading to a pair of red and black Jordan’s. This was a new pair. Of course. King had to be fresh twenty-four-seven.
The sun glinted off his slim gold chain and drew my eyes into the king of spades playing card charm. It was small but it was encrusted with diamonds and what looked like obsidian or onyx. It was beautiful. Quiet luxury.
“I know I’m fine, baby. You don’t have to stare,” King said, winking an arrogant eye at me.
“Boy, please. You come a dime a dozen in the street. You’re not special.”
Lie.
He wasn’t a dime a dozen. I’d never met anyone like King before. I had to keep him in his place though. His head was already big.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that lie. You’ll never find another motherfucker like me. Ever. Now talk.”
I swallowed back the lump in my throat and nodded. “This one older white guy, Stan I used to fuck around with. He used to give me money and buy me clothes all the time. I hated fucking him because he had the whole micro-penis thing going and your girl isn’t built for fun-size dicks.”
“You’re damn sure not,” King dragged an appreciative gaze over my body and goosebumps blanketed my skin. I rubbed my shoulders and arms, pretending to be cold because of my dress.
“So um…” I cleared my throat. “I avoided fucking him whenever possible, because…no. One day, he was at work and I knew where his safe was and where he kept all his bank info so I decided to clean him out. He was crazy disrespectful so I didn’t have any feelings about it. He’d call me a black bitch all the time, then threaten to kill me if I moved out of his house or told his wife.” King’s jaw muscle ticked as I spoke and it tugged on something at my core. “I bagged all his money and some expensive pieces of jewelry I knew could get me a grip on the street.”
“Good girl,” King nodded through heavily-lidded eyes. I smiled a little and continued.
“He came home early and caught me red-handed. He beat my ass,” I said, trying not to let the burning feeling in my eyes turn to tears. I hated crying. I was too hard for shit like that. I left crying to Jay.
“Where was your gun?” King asked, arms tightly folded. His energy was growing into something angry and smoky.
“I was packing, remember? It was in my bag. Stan knocked me out cold. When I woke up, I was tied to the bed. Naked.” My bottom lip wobbled but I shook the emotions from my head and voice. “He um, he was home early to get ready for an impromptu poker night with him and his rich ass friends. He wanted to show me off but he told me since I was trying to rob him, he was going to show me off in another way.” A sad, watery smile forced my lips up. “They played poker then took turns…” I turned my head and sniffled, trying to choke out the gritty details. I didn’t run from the pain. I ran towards it. I refused to let the fucked up shit that happened to me, scare me into submission. “They took turns raping me all night. I had to play the role of the broken woman until he untied me.”
“Tell me you killed him, Jupiter. Tell me you fucking killed him,” King said, his voice flat but still angry.
“I shot him in the shoulder and ran,” I told him. “I just wanted to get out.” I looked up at the sky and let my nerves calm down.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Ju,” he said quietly. King’s hand caught my eye and I noticed him handing me his denim jacket. “You’re cold.” I followed his line of sight to my hard nipples and took the jacket.
“Thanks,” I muttered, putting my arms through the sleeves and closing the jacket around me. It smelled like him. “Your turn to talk,” I said.
“Right.” He stared at me for a few beats and shook his head. “I don’t know why it’s so damn easy to talk to you. I don’t like that shit though.”
“Oh, how do you think I feel? You know how hard it usually is for me to talk about that shit with Stan?”
“Is he why you don’t like being grabbed?” King asked.
“Partially.” I nodded.
King looked like he was rolling something around in his head before he spoke. “I had to discipline Sumo today.” His words fell like carefully crafted bricks. “I knocked him the fuck out. Cracked his face open with the pistol. Kicked him.” I watched his muscles tick as he paced back and forth like he contained too much energy to stand still.
“What did he do?” I asked, in awe.
“He went against me one too many times about bringing you in and he said something fucked up to Truck about his sister.”
