The Day the Streets Stood Still (19 page)

“C'mon, B, I think I just wanna kick back and chill . . . no crowds 'n' shit,” Sean said reluctantly. “I really got my mind on rebuilding myself. First I had to do the body, but now that it's done, I need to rebuild the name . . . the man.”
“Nigga, please. You know you wanna see all those groupie chicks that be slithering around at the games and events looking for rich come-up dick. I bet it's been a minute since you had some ass, too,” BG quipped, laughing. Sean looked at her strangely, then he busted out laughing too. He forgot how she could sometimes act as cool as one of his dudes.
“Yo, one hun'ed I ain't had none in a minute for real. At least some head from a bird would set me straight. I'll probably come so hard the bitch's head will blow off,” Sean joked backed. BG laughed raucously and put on an act, but inside, she wanted Sean for herself.
“A'ight, I'm game to go, since you enticed a nigga like that,” Sean said. “As long as you front me some ends so I can get some threads. A nigga can't catch flies without being the shit,” Sean said laughing.
“Damn that line was corny as fuck!” BG yelled playfully. More laughter filled the car. It seemed like life was on its way to being good again.
 
 
“This that premium shit right here,” Sean yelled to BG over the noise of the Staples Center crowd. “A nigga on the floor right up on the bench and shit,” Sean said referring to their floors seat tickets she had gotten. BG had been pulling out all of the stops to show Sean what he had been missing out on getting high. She was hopeful that the difference would make him never want to use drugs again.
“You know how I do,” BG joked. The Laker girls were performing their dance as a part of the pre-game show and as Sean watched the beautiful women move on the court, a small raucous group in the crowd across from him caught his attention. Sean stared for a few minutes, then squinted to get a better look. He could've sworn he saw a few familiar faces and just like that it hit him.
“Yo, is that . . .” Sean started but before he could finish . . .
“God . . .” BG completed his sentence. “Damn it's been years since I've seen that nigga. I didn't think he even left his compound out in Canada to get out 'n' shit.” Sean said as he watched God and about eight goons. After a few minutes, God headed in Sean and BG's direction. God and Sean locked eyes from a distance and neither man would turn away.
“He's headed over here, but he better not buck. I got people,” BG said to Sean.
“God ain't about shit,” Sean said. “He's too big in the game to make noise at an event like this. That nigga ain't about bringing heat to himself.”
Within a few minutes God was at Sean's side wearing a half grin, half sneer on his face. Sean stood up; he wasn't going to let no man stand over him.
“If it isn't King Sean back from the dead,” God said, extending his hand for a gentlemanly shake.
“What up, God? You good?” Sean said, nodding at his old connect respectfully.
“I'm fantastic,” God replied. “I hope the same for you. I heard you been suffering from a lot of . . . how do we say . . .
personal
tragedies,” God said calmly feigning concern. Sean bit down into his jaw and his hands curled into fists at his side. Sean didn't like to speak about the string of deaths that had shrouded his life lately. BG touched him in a show of her support.
“I am really sorry for everything. I heard how they gutted and hung your poor grandmother, and how they shot up the car and caused your baby to die. And what happened to your old lady . . . her getting a bad bag of dope that took her out? All a shame,” God relayed calmly. Sean's eyebrows went into arches on his face. He was kind of surprised God knew so much about his life, especially some intricate details other people didn't know.
“Surprised? I hear everything, Sean, you should know that. I'm God,” God said cracking a slight grin. Sean bit down on his bottom lip, but kept his cool.
“Thanks for your words of sympathy,” Sean said, trying real hard to hold it together as pieces to the puzzle started coming together in his head. BG held on to him, but at that moment Sean's insides were on fire. His chest heaved and his nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge and he had to will himself to stay straight. Sean knew he had been the only person to know that his grandmother had been hung; he had cut her down before the cops got there, which told Sean that God had to be responsible and not Faheem's people. Sean bit down into his jaw so hard he drew his own blood. God had sent that hit that had killed his son, too.
“Well, Sean, I hope the streets stay kind to you.” God winked at him tauntingly. Then Ty and Freddie stepped over to Sean and eyed him slyly.
“He wasn't never no king in my eyes,” Freddie whispered to Ty, hiding behind God and eye screwing Sean. Sean didn't hear him, but seeing Freddie's face now had taken him back to that day in the shooting gallery with Sunny. Something else hit Sean like a bolt of lightning; that day before Sunny had died, Freddie said he worked for God and the dope was a gift from God. Right there on the spot, Sean had figured out that God had not only killed his grandmother, he had also set Sunny up to get a bad bag of dope that was meant for Sunny and Sean.
Sean nodded and kept a grin on his lips. He knew it didn't pay to buck in a public forum like the Staples Center, but the gears of his mind were already calculating things. BG was squeezing his arm because she could tell he was trying his best to keep his cool.
“A'ight, God . . . you and your people take care. Like you said, I'm just back from the dead. A nigga back on the come up but I guess it'll be a long way back to the top,” Sean conceded, his insides burning up. God chuckled in Sean's face.
“Good, so long as you know your place,” God said coolly. “Let's go,” God told his flunkies. He turned and walked away as cool and calm as he'd walked over. Before God was fully gone, Sean turned to BG with that old King Sean look in his eyes and said, “Yo, call the team. Fly them out here now. It's time to put in that work.” BG's shoulders relaxed with relief and she let a sly grin move slowly across her face. Her heart sped up with excitement, because at that moment she knew, the old King Sean was back.
Chapter Twenty
After the game, BG and Sean returned to the suite she had booked on Hollywood Boulevard. Sean's mind couldn't really rest after his interaction with God and BG could sense the tension emanating from him.
“Why don't you sit and relax,” BG told Sean as he paced passed her for the tenth time. He looked over at her, his eyes apologetic. He knew she didn't understand his restlessness because he had never shared with her how his grandmother died or who had given Sunny the bad dope.
“I'm so proud of how you handled yourself in front of that prick God tonight. I love when a man can keep it together like that,” BG commended.
“Ah that's nothing. I'll see that man another time . . . not with a lady around.” Sean smiled at her. BG walked over to him holding two champagne flutes filled halfway with Ace of Spades she had just removed from the chiller.
“Aye, aye . . . that shit looks good, but remember what your white people at the cleansing center said . . . alcohol is a gateway back to that boy,” Sean warned her, waving her away with the liquor. BG smiled and set both flutes on the glass top bar and started clapping.
“Yes! That was a test and your ass passed that shit with flying colors,” she cheered. She picked up a regular glass of grape juice for herself and Sean.
“To the new and improved stronger King Sean,” BG toasted.
“Damn you corny,” Sean joked, clinking his glass against hers. BG set her glass down and Sean did too. They stared at each other for a long minute and that old Miami lust feeling came back to both of them. Sean was the first to break the heated eye exchange.
“Yo, I never told you this, B, but you remind me so much of my mother. They called her Mook on the streets and she was a top of the game H dealer when I was a kid. She ran blocks and she ain't take no shit. You showed me in so many ways that you have the same heart that she had. My mother would feed a nigga, care for him, loan him money, but if that same nigga crossed her, she wouldn't hesitate to blow him out of his fuckin' shoes. I get that from you, B. You walked with me from day fuckin' one and there's a reason. Don't you ever let no nigga tell you that you ain't worthy of being that top bitch. I think that's the only thing I could say about my mother that I wish was different, she put business before her own heart and she let the love of her life slip away,” Sean poured his heart out to BG.
BG was fighting hard to hold back the tears welling up behind her eyes. She had never gotten compliments like that from a man. She knew how hard Sean could be sometimes, so his words meant a lot to her. She looked him in the eye and then mindlessly, she leaned in and forced her mouth on top of his. Sean opened his lips and accepted her tongue into his mouth. They were both breathing heavily and touching each other in places that neither of them had been touched in forever. Before she could protest, BG's satin pants were pulled down around her hips and her panties were off within seconds. Sean pulled his pants down, his legs shaking with anticipation. He hadn't touched a woman since his last experience with Sunny and that was a hazy memory now.
“Ahhh!” BG yelled out as Sean entered her with so much force she felt like he was in her intestines. Sean was going crazy, pounding into BG's pelvis with the force of a jackhammer. He was grunting and breathing hard like an animal. It had been so long for him he couldn't control himself now.
“Agggh!” BG screamed out because he was kind of hurting her. She didn't want to tell him to stop though. Sean leaned up on one hand and looked down at her. “I'm sorry,” he huffed, he was climaxing already.
“Oh, Sunny. I'm sorry,” he huffed as he pushed farther inside of BG and bust his nut. When the name left his lips the air in the room seemed to all dissipate and both Sean and BG felt like they were suddenly suffocating. Sean caught himself right away, but he couldn't take it back.
“What, nigga? What the fuck did you call me?” BG screamed, using her hands to forcefully push him up off of her. “How fuckin' dare you!” BG hollered, punching him in the face before she scrambled to put her panties back on. She was so embarrassed and angry that she couldn't fight the tears back and they started falling freely from her eyes. She felt stupid for putting herself in this position again.
“B . . . wait . . . listen,” Sean tried to plead with her, but his attempts were to no avail. BG stormed like they eye of a tornado toward the bedroom of the suite.
“I knew I should've never thought that Miami was more than just a fucking fling to you. Even in death that bitch still got you by the balls. I can never come close to that, Sean . . . never! And you know what? I will never try to fuckin' do it again!” BG screamed through a stream of tears. Sean felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart listening to the hurt in BG's voice.
“I'm sorry. No . . . wait . . . let me talk to you, B,” Sean apologized trying to go after her. He wasn't fast enough. BG went into the room and slammed and locked the door before he could get to her.
“BG, I'm sorry! You're the only family I have. I should've never gone there and complicated things between us. I crossed the line and I'm sorry!” Sean yelled through the door, slamming his hand on it in defeat.
“Fuck you, Sean! Let's just make it all business from this day forward. I'm done! I'm fucking done!” BG replied. Sean could tell she was fighting hard to sound like she wasn't crying.
“A'ight, all business,” Sean agreed, shaking his head like he had messed up real bad. “Let's start with taking care of that plan for God. That's still on no matter what we going through with it,” he said.
On the other side of the door BG shook her head in disbelief, but she was pulling herself together. If all business is what he wanted, all business was what he was going to get.
“This nigga just fucked me, came in my pussy, and called me his dead bitch's name now he's talking about going ahead with a plan for God? He is so fucked up. I should've never let my guard down again . . . never,” BG whispered harshly, scolding herself.
Sean flopped down on the couch and held his head in his hands. He couldn't afford to lose BG's support right now. Sean wasn't sure how things would be after this, but he felt horrible about what he'd done to her heart.
After a few minutes Sean heard the door to the suite bedroom click open. He jumped to his feet ready to throw himself at BG's mercy. BG stepped out of the room dressed like star. Her clothes, hair and makeup were all flawlessly put together. She didn't even look like she'd just been crying a little while earlier. Sean's mouth hung slightly open. He couldn't front, Sunny had always had his heart, but BG was a close second with her beauty and brains.
“Don't wait up,” BG said dryly without looking at Sean. She grabbed her car keys and headed toward the suite door, moving her hips seductively. Sean could smell her perfume from a distance.
“Wait . . . wait . . . B,” Sean was saying, but BG kept walking and slammed the door behind her, practically right in his face.
“Ain't this about a bitch,” Sean huffed standing all alone in the suite like he had just lost his best friend and he probably had.
 
 
Club Lure in downtown L.A. was crawling with Hollywood's hottest celebrities and moneymakers. The hotspot was one of God's favorite places to party whenever he came to the U.S. from Canada. The waitresses being suspended from glass orbs especially thrilled God was there and he always took up the VIP section, which was set up like a secret garden, at the back of the club. God sat on one a plush black chaise longue surrounded by his goons and some of his own imported beauties. God lifted his fourth bottle of Ace of Spades to his lips and took it to the head. A lazy grin and sleepy eyes were the order of the night for God, but he was very alert. He watched as top model beauties tried their best to get into the VIP section just to be in his company. The ones that were lucky enough to get in hitched their already-tight dresses up a little higher and exposed more cleavage than their outfits called for. The VIP section was crawling with some of the most beautiful women L.A. had to offer, God was especially amused by the blond-haired, blue-eyed statuesque runway models that seemed totally enamored with his presence.
“Aye! Aye!” God waved his hand at Freddie and Ty. They were partying so hard that had seemingly forgotten they were always working when God was around. Freddie rushed over to God, barely able to stay steady on his feet. The liquor had taken a toll on Freddie's skinny frame.
“What up, God?” Freddie slurred and hiccupped.
“Get those two bitches over there to give me a show,” God demanded, pointing to two well-known Victoria's Secret models. Freddie busted out laughing.
“I look like I'm fucking joking?” God said calmly, but stern enough that Freddie got the message. Freddie walked over, whispered to the two women and pointed over at God. Both of the models giggled and pointed, but within a few seconds they were both sauntering toward God.
“Ladies . . . welcome,” God said with a sinister smile on his face. They just didn't know God was about to turn them out right there in the club.
 
 
After about an hour of watching the models kiss and finger one another, God grew bored. He dismissed them rudely and turned his attention out toward the club. God was drunk out of his mind, so when he saw the gorgeous vision in front of him, he squinted, opened his eyes wide and then squinted again, thinking that his eyes were deceiving him. God looked around behind him and found all of his hired goons standing, strapped like the Secret Service so he knew it would be impossible for him to just get up and casually walk to the bar without them following him and making a scene in the club.
“Freddie!” God called out. “Freddie, c'mere now!” God slurred. Freddie was at God's side so God didn't really need to scream again.
“What up, God? What's good?” Freddie answered, pushing a gorgeous, big titty girl off his arm.
“Look out there by the bar. Tell me my eyes are deceiving me,” God told Freddie as he pointed. Freddie craned his neck, ducked, and came back up trying to spot what his boss was pointing out.
“Is that who I think it is?” God asked. Freddie looked on dumbfounded. He had no idea what God was talking about.
“Black dress! Fat ass, big tits,” God described who he had his eye on. Freddie scanned a little longer and finally he spotted the mark.
“Oh shit! Yeah . . . yeah! That's BG! Yo, and she's by herself!” Freddie exclaimed excitedly, touching his waistband.
“Calm down. Calm down. I don't want anything to happen to her, I might just want to speak to her . . . or something more,” God told Freddie. God kept his eyes trained on BG. He licked his lips as she moved her long slender athletic-build legs in a tight-fitting black dress that hugged her body so tight God could see the roundness of her hips and the plumpness of her high ass cheeks from a distance. BG wore her hair pulled up into a high-class bun with a few tendrils at the sides of her face. Even from where he sat, God could see BG's smooth deep cocoa skin gleaming.
“You want me go over there and call her over to you?” Freddie asked.
“Nah. This is a special one, I'll do it myself. Shit, I have never seen that sexy bitch in a dress. She always tries to act like a man in the streets . . . jeans and slacks and shit every time I run into her or have pictures taken of her, but from where I stand now, I see a feminine pretty bitch that needs some God in her life,” God said snidely, a sly grin creasing his lips. He tried to stand up, but he slid back down when his wobbly legs didn't cooperate.
“Whoa, nigga . . . you good?” Freddie said, grabbing God's arm for support.
“Fuck off me, little boy,” God growled. “I been drinking before you could pee straight,” God said, wrestling his arm away from Freddie. A few of God's hired security guards rushed over to his side to help him too.
“It's all good. I'm good. Nothing to see here,” God joked, slurring his words and holding his hand up in a halting motion.
“All I need you dumb m'fuckers to do is watch me while I go over there and speak to that pretty bitch sitting right there,” God garbled his words as he pointed in BG's direction. “She looking like she came out here to find some dick in that ‘come fuck me' dress with those chocolate stick legs calling out to me 'n' shit,” God continued. He was finally stable enough on his legs to walk out of VIP and head toward where BG was sitting at the bar. God had told his security to just watch him, but a few of them fanned out around the club to make sure they were in close striking distance if anything popped off with their boss.
BG threw back her fifth shot of Patrón and crinkled her face when it burned going down. She had too much on her mind right now. BG could not stop thinking about the moment Sean called her Sunny's name during sex.
“Motherfucker. Bitch-ass nigga,” BG whispered as she lifted a Coco Loso to her lips.
“Harsh words,” a voice came from her left side. BG whirled around on her bar stool with a scowl on her face that could've scared away an opposing army.
“Get the fuck . . .” BG started, but her words were immediately clipped short when she saw who the voice was. BG eased the look on her face and touched her Chanel bag to make sure her .27 Glock Special was handy.
“Looking beautiful tonight, Black Girl . . . or should I call you BG?” God said politely, trying hard to keep his words straight as drunk as he was.
“God . . . thanks . . .” BG nodded.
“I never thought I'd see you in a dress, but I'll tell you, you should wear them more often. You are fucking simply gorgeous,” God complimented, laying his game down. BG blushed even though she didn't want to. She was feeling lonely and vulnerable and with the liquor easing her defenses, God was right on time.

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