The California Saga (8 page)

“Do you remember the first time you saw me?”

“Of course, I do,” he answered confidently.

I knew he thought I was referring to the bar, so I figured I would use this as an opportunity to get a little deeper in his pockets. “I bet you don't.”

“I'm a gambling man, so I'm game. Set your wager.” Calico was enthusiastic about our little competition.

“Okay. If you win, I'll give one sexual pleasure of my choice. If I win, you have to take me to Potomac Mills Outlet for a day of shopping.” I said, laying down the rules.

“That's cool with me. I just hope you can keep up your end of the bargain,” Calico said as though he knew he was going to win the bet.

“Okay, so what's the answer?”

“It was a Friday,” Calico began to say very carefully. “The day I saw you at the bar with Touch.”

“Wrong!” I said right away, interrupting him. “So when are we going shopping?”

“Damn, you ain't even let me finish.”

“No need, hon. You are wrong. Now the answer to my question, please.”

“As soon as I get there,” Calico responded, no longer putting up a fight. “Okay, and I'm holding you to this too.”

“No problem.”

“Why you so quick to give money up?” I asked, directing the conversation to where I really wanted it to go.

“What make you say that?”

“Well, you took me shopping on our first date. You sent me three grand like it was nothing, and now you just agreed to take me shopping again with no problem. The average dude ain't coming off no money like that, especially with a chick he's only known for a couple of days.”

Calico gave the safest answer he could, but that wasn't gonna stop me from finding out what I wanted to know. “I feel like I've known you for years.”

“I'm sure, but that doesn't answer my question. I've noticed you're pretty good at avoiding subjects that you rather not talk about, but in order for this thing we have to go any further, I have to know exactly who I am dealing with.”

I heard him chuckle on the other end of the phone. “I like you, Jewel, but there are things that I can't tell you. Not yet anyway. I am good at dodging bullets and questions. It comes with the territory. I do this for a reason, and I shouldn't have to defend that at all.”

I listened as Calico talked. I heard what he was selling, but I wasn't sure if I was buying. Calico had so much game, it was almost impossible to tell when he was lying from when he was being sincere.

“When you're in my position, it puts even the ones you care about at risk. That's why I do my business on the East Coast. When I was working in the area where I lay my head at, shit got too hot. I'm constantly worrying about the safety of my kids and their mothers as well as the rest of my family. Withholding shit from friends and relatives in my line of business keeps niggas breathing for at least another day.”

I wondered what type of girl he figured I was. “So what are you saying, Calico?”

“You ain't ready for all the shit that goes down in my line of work. You ain't no ‘ride-or-die' chick. You ain't that chick that can sit through interrogation and not rat. You're not that chick that can go deliver a package or hold shit down if I get locked up. I mean, would you even know how to bail a nigga out?”

Calico's words cut me deep. If any other nigga would have said this to me, they would have certainly found themselves alone, but his words, however harsh, were true.

Although I had a gold-digger's eye and could easily categorize a man based on his wealth, I had never been “a gangster's girl.” Frankly, because dope-boy money had never been long enough for a bitch like me, but I wasn't gon' let this nigga know that. Something about Calico was different from those cats, particularly because he was the nigga giving out the orders and not taking them. But, besides that, I think I was really starting to like him.

I didn't want him to know that his words affected me in the least, so I did what any bitch would. I put on a front.

“You've just proven I am good at what I do. Don't let the image fool you. That's why I'm never suspect, because even though I know the game inside and out, I look like Miss Corporate America,” I lied.

“That's hard to believe, but I'm not the one to call anybody a liar. Trust me, time will tell.”

“It sure will.”

“It's more to it than just standing by your man side though. You gotta always be on point. You can't be distracted by any nigga that pass you in a shopping center in a drop-top Benz. I bet you know how many karats were in my ear,” Calico said, proving he did know the first time he saw me. “You tricked me!” I yelled, shocked that he really remembered that first glance.

“No, I didn't. You cut me off. You were too eager. You moved too fast. That could fuck you up in the game. But a real ride-or-die chick would know that, right?” Calico tried to make a point.

“Whatever! Finish what you were saying.”

“All I got a chance to say is, it was a Friday, the day I saw you at the bar. If you would have let me finished, I would have continued by saying, you passed me as you chatted away on your cell phone going downtown, probably on your way to the nail shop.”

“And how do you know I was on my way to the nail shop?”

“Observation, another skill that comes with the territory.”

“Okay, okay! Maybe I'm not ‘married to the game,' but I can be that chick by your side, and I'm not afraid to prove it.”

“Action speaks louder than words. Don't talk about it, be about it.”

On that note I was ready to end the call. “Enough said.”

 

 

Damn, I ain't even trying to see this bitch
, I thought as I rounded the corner, heading toward my crib. I had been chilling at Ciara's crib for the last week and a half, so I wouldn't have to kill a bitch, but since I had run out of clothes, I had to come back. Although I thought it was gonna be hell staying with Ciara, shit turned out all right. We had a few arguments, but all in all, it was cool being around my girls. For a split second, I actually thought about really getting back with her, but that shit flew out the window as soon as it entered my mind.

“Yes, sir!” I said to myself as I put the car in park and jumped out.

The house was empty. Everything was in the same order that it was left that night I fought with ol' girl. Tired of her constant bullshit, I packed her shit and told her to come through for it. She was trying to act different on the phone, being all calm and cute, telling me that she'll be by in twenty minutes. While I waited, I tried to straighten up.

When she got to the house, she pleaded with me to forgive her, but like I said once before, I don't go back. She finally realized my mindset when she found her stuff in two plastic garbage bags. I told her that I had something to do, so we needed to make this quick.

She flipped out. “Where you in a rush to? You still running after your baby momma, huh? Well, she can have your sorry ass then!”

“Bitch, whatever,” I said. Truth be told, this was a good move for me. I never even clicked with her like that anyway.

“I was a good fucking girl to you,” she yelled as she was reaching for her car door.

“Nah, what you lost was a good man. What's sad, you don't know shit about me.” Me and ol' girl were together for a good minute now. You would think she would know how I flex and that I wouldn't even roll with my baby mother like that. This bitch ain't even know my drink! I thought about what Jewel said and decided to put her to the test.

“What color are my eyes?”

“What? What kind of fucking question is that?”

I gave her another chance to answer. “What color are my eyes?”

I faintly heard, “I don't fucking know,” and she got in the car and then quickly sped off.

Exactly! Eat dust, bitch
. I looked at her from my door, confident that I'd made the right decision. I took her two garbage bags full of stuff to the curb and then went back into the house.

After about an hour of flipping TV channels, I realized I hadn't talked to my road dawg in a while, so I pulled out my cell phone to hit Jewel up.

“I was just about to call you,” Jewel said as soon as she picked up.

“Oh, yeah? So what was stopping you?”

“Whatever! Where the fuck you been? Boo'd up somewhere?” Jewel snapped.

“Chill out, man. I been at my baby mother crib.”

“Ah shit, now! You been doing the family thing. I'm cool with that. I told you, you need to get back with that girl anyway.”

“I don't know about that shit. I can't lie, shit was cool when I was there. She made sure a nigga ate. I had my fat rats around me all the time. I had to admit, that shit was a'ight.”

“Well, I'm glad to hear that. I just want you to find you someone and settle down. You're a good guy, and you deserve a good girl.”

“You know I ain't even that nigga that got a bunch of bitches. I do my thang, but I don't mind having a steady bitch. You know me, I do the relationship thing,” I told her.

“Yeah, I know, but you just be picking the wrong damn chicks.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I wasn't trying to hear that shit Jewel was talking. “I'm gonna need you to take me to the airport next week. I'm going to the A.”

“Okay, I got you. But, anyway, on to me, I talked to your boy today.”

“Yeah? What that nigga talking 'bout?”

“Well, I think I really like him. He sent me three grand today,” Jewel said full of excitement.

Oh, shit. This nigga 'bout to pull one on Jewel
, I said to myself. I knew exactly how Calico moved. He was known for running game on bitches and giving them money and gifts and shit to win them over then convincing them to let him chill at their crib, and the next thing you know, he doing work out their crib and have them doing runs for him. But I was hoping that Jewel was smarter than that.

“So what's three grand, Jewel? That ain't no money, and you for one should know that,” I said, wondering if my homegirl was slipping.

“I know that, Touch. Of course, I've gotten much more than that from dudes, but the difference is, I ain't even known him that long, and I ain't put in no work. This nigga took me shopping and sent me three grand in this little bit of time. Plus, this is dope boy money, not entertainer or athlete money that I'm normally dealing with.”

As I listened to Jewel speak, I thought,
Damn, he told the truth about what he does.

“Touch, you hear me?” Jewel asked in reaction to my lack of response.

“Whatever you say, li'l homie,” I said, uneasy about the whole situation.

“I need to know some things, though.”

“What's up?”

“Does Calico have a chick here?”

“Come on, Jewel. You know I'm not into shit like this. You not 'bout to turn me into Mr. Palmer,” I said, referring to this Jamaican cat around here. He would call the cops in a moment's notice if he saw you hanging out on the corner two seconds longer than you should be. For business, he was a real pain in the ass.

“So it's like that, Touch. This nigga is going to be staying with me when he come here, so I need know what the deal is.”

My fucking stomach sank when she said that.
I can't believe this fucking chick. Has she lost her fucking mind? This ain't even her. She on some bullshit right now.

“Jewel, what are you doing? I thought you were smarter than this. You don't even know this nigga.”

“I actually know a whole lot about him. We've had extensive phone conversations.”

“A'ight den. If you know so much, you don't need to be asking me shit. You on your own with this one. You're a smart girl, you know the game. Hell, you run game. And game always recognize game, right?” I left it at that.

“Fa sho!” Jewel yelled back, and we ended the call soon after.

My dick was aching as I drove back to my baby mother's house. I needed some pussy bad, but I wasn't trying to fuck her. That shit was like committing suicide. Ciara was already on some bullshit when I wasn't fucking her, so I could only imagine what would happen if I started. In her mind, that would mean we're back together.

Just then, Diana popped in my head. I wondered if Ciara had fucked things up between the two of us as I took a quick exit off the interstate and headed toward Mo Dean's instead of my original destination.

The parking lot was packed as I pulled up to the restaurant. I circled the block and parked on the street. I figured that probably was best as I walked up. At least, that way if my baby mother or one of her snitch-ass friends passed by, they wouldn't see my car in the parking lot and be tempted to come in and ruin my night.

I scanned the club from the entrance and proceeded with caution, to make sure the crowd was to my liking. I walked in and grabbed a seat at the bar. I ordered my usual as I looked around for Diana. I didn't see her in my immediate area, and hoped that she was just at a booth or something, where I couldn't see her. To waste a little time, I began to play one of the many computerized games that sat in front of me.

Just as I was getting into the game, someone hugged me from behind and whispered in my ear, “Hey, sexy.”

My dick rose as though it had ears and recognized the voice. I turned around to greet Diana. “Dirty Diana,” I sang. “What's up, baby?”

“You.” She looked at the imprint of my swollen penis in my Five Four jeans.

I got right to the point. “You gotdamn right. So what you gon' do about that?”

“I'm down. I've been down. You the one with that baby momma drama.”

“Baby momma drama?” I played stupid because I knew Diana had no idea what was going on the other night at the club.

“Yeah, baby momma drama. Our boy, Calico, told me all about it.”

What? What kind of bitch shit is that?
I wondered what type of trouble Calico was trying to start.

“Fuck all dat. Let's do this. Can you leave now?” I wasn't trying to waste no more time talking about bullshit and take the risk of my baby mother blowing my spot up again.

“Right now? I'm working.”

I pulled Diana between my legs and grabbed a handful of her ass cheeks with each one of my hands. “He want you right now,” I whispered in her ear as I pressed my manhood against her thigh.

“Well”—she paused as she glanced around the restaurant—“it's slow, so I guess so.” She untied her waitress apron and headed to the back of the bar to notify them she was leaving.

As we hopped in the car, my mind was spinning about where I could take her and not run into anyone else. I thought about the dope house, but it was just too many niggas at that crib. I needed to find a spot fast. My dick was rock-hard, and I needed to bust a nut before I caught a bad case of blue balls.

“My electric bill is due. I'm gonna need something,” Diana whispered in my ear, while rubbing on my dick.

Spoken like a typical chickenhead.
No wonder this bitch was throwing the pussy at a nigga. She out for money. It is what it is. At this point I don't even give a fuck. I don't mind a jump-off. It ain't like a nigga trying to wife her
, I thought to myself but decided against voicing it.

Temples sweating, I answered, “A'ight, I got you.” I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill.

Normally, I would only throw a jump-off sixty or seventy dollars, but at the time, I was thinking with my dick instead of my mind.

Shortly after, we passed a Roadway Inn, hiding off to the side near Shore Drive.
Perfect
. I busted a U-turn and headed into the parking lot and parked. Diana stayed in the car while I checked in.

Minutes later, she was following me to room number 208.

“What you want? What you want to do?” she asked with a slight attitude, pulling off her clothes as if she was going to bed. She didn't even try to undress in a sexy way to keep me turned on. It seemed like Diana had the same intentions as me, fucking and bucking.

“It don't matter, but first, a nigga need to piss.” I headed for the bathroom, unbuckling my pants.

A minute later, Diana was standing at the bathroom door ass-naked with one hand on her hip. She looked at her watch on the other. “Hurry up. I got some things to take care of. For a hundred dollars, you can't get much,” she said like the trick she was.

“Soon as I bust, we can go,” I answered. I shook the last few drops off my dick then grabbed some tissue to wipe my tip.

I walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed and signaled Diana to come over. Then, I pulled her head down to my dick. Bobbing her head up and down, Diana was beginning to choke, but I didn't give a fuck. Plus, I didn't like her nasty attitude. This bitch acted like she was into a nigga, but all she really was into was a nigga's pockets.

But what I did like was the way this bitch sucked the skin off my dick and was playing with my balls at the same time. A service like that deserved payment.

“Ah fuck! Suck that dick, bitch!”

Diana stopped her dick-sucking duty for a brief moment. “I don't swallow, and you get one more position, nigga.”

Damn, this bitch is a trick for real!
The realization set in as I registered her last statement.
Well, better make the best of this, since I'm officially a john.
“Yeah, a'ight.”

I picked Diana up and both of us landed on the dresser against the mirror. Her legs were wide open while she played with her pussy. I quickly put on a condom. One thing for sure was, I didn't need any more fat rats running around, and definitely didn't need a trick-ass baby mother, or even worse, that monster that a nigga can't shake.

After placing my dick into Diana's wet pussy, I began choking her. I decided to use this as an opportunity to do that rough-sex shit. To my surprise, this crazy bitch loved it.

“Choke me harder, nigga,” she screamed.

“You want it harder, bitch?”

“Yes, choke me. Fuck me. Give it to me real hard! Fuck this pussy up!”

The look of excitement and fear, plus her extremely wet pussy, made me come within minutes.

Damn, I needed that
, I thought as she got up to shower.

I reached for a washcloth to wash off my dick.
That was the best hundred dollars I ever spent
. I pulled out a cigarette.

By the time I finished smoking, Diana was out the shower, and we were headed back to Mo Dean's.

I didn't even bother pulling into the parking lot as I pulled up. I just stopped at the corner and hit the unlock switch and signaled for her to get out. As soon as she closed the door behind her, I pulled off and headed to my crib.

I jumped out the car and headed in the house. I rushed upstairs and started a hot shower. After bathing, I opened the drawer to get toothpaste and toothbrush to finish my hygiene session for the night.

Today was a good day, more or less. I finally got some ass, for a hundred dollars, and there was no baby momma drama. “Finally, a nigga can get a good night sleep,” I said aloud to myself.