Authors: K'wan

Animal 2 (34 page)

“Just thinking,” Animal said, running his hand down her thigh. After giving birth to T.J., Gucci had gotten thick, and it
was all in the right places. “Baby, me and you have been through some shit, and more than a few times it didn't look good, for our relationship or our lives, but look at us now.” He motioned toward the view.

“Tayshawn, love is stronger than anything, including bullets.” Gucci kissed him.

Animal's cell phone vibrated on the table, breaking their embrace. He picked up the phone and looked at the screen. It was an unknown number. “Speak on it,” he answered.

“What's up, bro,” Kahllah said, greeting him from the other end.

“Black Lotus, what's popping?” Animal's face lit up. While he was in prison, Animal and Kahllah had gotten very close. She wrote him all the time and came to visit almost as much as Gucci.

“I'm in Cali, landed in LAX about an hour ago,” Kahllah told him.

“Kahllah, why didn't you call me? I'd have come and picked you up from the airport. I'm sure your nephew would've been happy to see you,” Animal said.

“I appreciate that, Animal, but this isn't a social visit. I'm in California on business.”

Animal got quiet. He gently slid Gucci off his lap and walked over near the edge of the deck, out of earshot. “Where are you?”

“About twenty minutes from your house. You feel like taking a ride for old time's sake?”

“Kahllah, you know I ain't 'bout that life no more,” Animal whispered.

“Stop acting like that, Animal. This is easy money, and the mark is a piece of shit. He fondled the wrong person's kid, and
they want him gobbled up. There's a quarter-million on his face, and I'd be willing to break bread with you for riding along. I'll give you fifty-thousand of my take and all you gotta do is keep me company. No wet work.”

“No wet work?” Animal asked suspiciously.

There was a commotion in the background, like Kahllah was arguing with someone. The next voice Animal heard on the line wasn't Kahllah's, but it was an equally welcome one.

“My nigga, take the apron off and shake out real quick,” Ashanti teased.

Animal's lips parted into a wide grin at the sound of his friend's voice. “Oh, shit, what you doing riding shotgun with Kahllah?”

“Well, you stayed on my ass about getting off the streets and stop selling drugs, so I did. I'm trying my hand at something new,” Ashanti said in a mischievous tone.

“Same old Ashanti.”

“Ain't shit changed with me, blood. Now, throw some clothes on. We're a few exits away from your pad, so we should be there in a few minutes,” Ashanti said, and ended the call.

Animal stood on the deck for a few long moments, gazing at the water silently. He looked down at the rosary dangling from his hand, watching the cross swing back and forth. When Gucci saw him slip the chain around his neck, she knew what time it was.

“Animal, you can't be serious,” Gucci said in disappointment.

“My father once told me that no matter how much a man changes, his true nature would always be there lurking under
the surface.” He kissed Gucci on the forehead and went into the house to arm up.

Gucci didn't even bother to turn around when she heard him go out the door. She just sat there on the deck, cradling T.J. and trying not to cry. She loved Animal more than anything or anyone except T.J., but deep down, she knew that she would always have to share her heart. It would always be him, her, and the streets.

When the doorbell rang, Gucci perked up. Maybe Animal had changed his mind, she said to herself, making hurried steps toward the door, carrying T.J. on her hip. “You're always leaving your key,” she said, opening the door. She was surprised to find that it wasn't Animal on the other side.

The woman was tall, taller than Gucci, and had an athletic build and fire-engine red hair. She was wearing a tight-fitting white tank top and denim shorts that stopped just below her ass. She removed the designer sunglasses from her face and gave Gucci the once-over with steel-gray eyes.

“Can I help you?”

“I don't know yet. You Gucci Butler?” the redhead asked with an attitude.

“It's actually Gucci
Torres
now.” She held up her hand, showing off her diamond wedding ring. “And I don't think we know each other.”

“No, we don't know each other, but we've got someone in common. My name is Sonja, Red Sonja. Maybe you've heard of me?”

Gucci flushed with anger when she heard the name. She couldn't believe Animal's mistress had the nerve to show up at her house. “Yeah, I've heard of you. What the fuck are you
doing at my house? I don't know and don't care what went on between you and Animal in Puerto Rico, but that shit is long dead and over with. He's mine now!”

Sonja laughed. “Calm down, hood rat. I didn't come here for your man. If I wanted him, he would've never left Puerto Rico. So pump your brakes.”

“Then what the fuck do you want?” Gucci snapped.

“Just a little conversation, but I'm going to need you to watch that gutter-ass mouth of yours in front of these kids,” Sonja said seriously.

“
Kids
?” Gucci was confused.

“I'm sorry, where are my manners? Come here, Celeste,” Sonja said, calling to someone who had been standing off to the side.

A little girl appeared. She looked to be about two or three years old, with reddish-brown hair and almond-colored skin. She clung to Sonja's leg and looked up at Gucci quizzically with dark eyesÂ .Â .Â . eyes that Gucci was all too familiar with, because she had been gazing into them for years. Gucci's mouth went dry, and she was suddenly nauseated. Had it not been for the fact that she was holding T.J., she would've fainted.

With a mocking smirk on her face, Sonja told the child, “Celeste, say hello to your baby brother.”