Chapter 2
“Liam! Liam!” Ming shouted, nearly shattering my ear drums as I drilled into her.
I gripped her throat, hoping to quiet her enough so that I could complete my mission of fucking her brains out. Right before I released, I yanked out of her and let my guys off into the condom. It was a habit. I had broken enough condoms in my day to perfect my pull-out game down to a science. Backing out of bed, I stood to go to the bathroom.
I removed the condom, dropping it in the toilet and flushing before moving to the sink to wash my hands. I wet a washcloth then headed to my bedroom to wash Ming up. As usual, she was knocked out by the time I made it back to her. That didn’t stop me from cleaning her up and pulling the cover back up over her.
After a quick bird bath in front of the sink, I went to the living room where I’d left my twenty-five pound weights last night. No matter what, I made sure to get in a little workout every day. Right now was the perfect time to work off some of the residual adrenaline. I went through my three sets of twenty effortlessly before I dropped the dumbbells I had been curling and looked down at my watch.
It was a couple of minutes to six which gave me about an hour to shower, eat, and head out to my job. I had to be at the convention center by seven fifteen. For the past seven years, I had been working as security for a company that serviced the football stadium and convention center in the area as well as other local entertainment venues. It was a cool gig since it came with perks like seeing free shows and shit. I hardly ever had to get active.
Although I worked as a security guard, my job didn’t require much physical activity. I fell in love with working out when I played high school football. Those days were long gone, but I still liked to stay in pretty good physical shape due to the nature of my job. I tried to work out five days a week. Being a night owl usually worked in my favor when I couldn’t find the time to get it in during the day. My post quickie upper body workout was enough to satisfy me for the day.
As I moved through my house, I grabbed a protein shake from the stash on my counter. I cracked the seal on the bottle and threw it back, finishing it by the time I made it to the bathroom. I tossed the bottle without stopping before stepping into my bathroom where I turned on the shower to let it warm up.
While I waited for the water to adjust, I brushed my teeth and applied the new face and beard cleanser I had been using. So far, it kept my dry skin from flaking like it usually did at the change of the season. Once the soap was all over my face and beard, I stripped out of my clothes and hopped in the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, I was washed, dried, and moisturized. As much as I couldn’t stand a fucking uniform, the all-black rent-a-cop attire required for my job had grown on me. I liked the fact that I didn’t have to worry about what I would wear from day to day. I could just throw on my clothes and head out.
With the urging of the current supervisor, I applied and tested for a position as his replacement. He had been working for the company for over twenty years and had reached retirement age. It had been a few weeks, and with his retirement soon, I knew the announcement of the new supervisor would be coming any day now.
I was excited about advancing with the company. I made a decent living, but the supervisory position came with a 20 percent pay bump. I could use an extra 20 percent tacked onto my salary.
Growing up as the son of one of the biggest goons in the state of Georgia came with certain luxuries like getting every new pair of shoes that came out. Even as an adult with little to no access to my dad’s money, I found myself struggling to deny myself certain things.
There was half a million dollars in an account set up for me by my dad when I was twelve. I was supposed to access it after my eighteenth birthday when I started working by his side. Since I didn’t fuck with my dad anymore, that day never came. The money was just sitting in an account accruing interest. My mom had given me access to the account years ago, but I wasn’t interested in blood money. I checked the statements a couple of times a year, but I was my own man.
Even without their help, money was never much of an issue for me. I had twice as much in my own accounts just from living below my means. Up until five years ago when I turned thirty, I lived with roommates and limited my splurging to sneakers. There was no limit or no telling how much money I would spend on shoes. To make sure I stayed out of my parents’ pockets, I did whatever I had to do.
Although he was idolized in my neck of the woods, my dad was a pure monster for lack of a better word. He gave us anything we could ever want financially, but he was a mean drunk and a womanizer even on a good day. My mom and I suffered from his tyranny behind closed doors while he was hailed as a king in the city.
My mom and I endured my dad’s abuse in silence until I was thirteen and started fighting back. He backed off of me, but my mom still took the brunt of his punishment anytime he felt slighted or just wanted someone to take his frustrations out on. It only took a couple more years for me to get fed up with him putting his hands on her for good.
With my mom’s encouragement, I decided to end him. I was sixteen years old when I beat my dad within an inch of his life. My intention was to kill him and face the consequences of my actions, knowing that my mom would finally be safe in his absence. Instead of letting me face the music, she sent me to a friend’s house to spend the night after the attack.
I spent the entire weekend waiting for the cops to arrest me for murder only to find out that my dad wasn’t dead. Not only was he still alive, but my mom had concocted a story about an armed robbery to clear my name. She had bruises and a black eye to prove that they had both been attacked and beaten. I was in the clear, but I felt that I failed her by not completing my mission.
By then, I’d started stepping up to help with the family business. My dad used my strength and size to his advantage anytime he needed a soldier to step in and help handle someone. I worked as the muscle for his business until the day I got fed up with it all.
When I was around twenty, I ended up catching an aggravated assault charge for doing my dad’s bidding. His overpaid lawyer got it reduced to battery, and I only ended up serving a year behind bars. That was enough time for me to reconsider the direction my life was going in.
No matter how much guilt I harbored for my dad’s situation, I knew I didn’t want anything to do with him going forward. Since my mom felt like she had the upper hand, she refused to distance herself from him. It had been ten years since I’d seen either of them, and I was a better man for it.
Once I put on my uniform, I walked over to my bed and shook Ming awake. She grumbled as she stirred in her sleep.
“Get up, Ming. It’s time for me to go to work,” I told her.
“Can’t I just stay here until you get back?” she asked, never opening her eyes.
“You know we don’t do that. Come on now. I’ll call you in a few days.”
“I don’t know why I keep coming here,” she complained, throwing the covers off her legs and shaking her head as she sat up.
“You and I both know why.” I chuckled, not bothering to wait for her response as I walked out of my bedroom.
It wasn’t that I never let the women I dealt with spend the night or stay over at my house. I just knew better than to give Ming that kind of privilege. It didn’t take much for her to start reading into things. She wasn’t the type of woman I wanted to have more than a sexual relationship with. I didn’t really have a type, but I knew what it wasn’t.
Ming was beautiful as hell with the best body that money could buy. If my memory was correct, she told me that her mom was from Vietnam, but her dad was some black guy from around the way that she hardly even knew. She was equally beautiful and insecure. Her insecurity made her so clingy that I could only stand to be around her for short periods of time.
Ming was not my breed of woman, not just because she was a stripper either. However a woman chose to make her living was on her as long as she respected herself. I’d heard a few things in passing that I didn’t particularly like. She wasn’t my woman, so I couldn’t even say shit. Hell, I tricked off on her, so why didn’t I expect the next nigga to do the same?
I would be out of the house from seven until around one in the morning. There was no way I was leaving her ass at my house while I was gone. She didn’t even spend the night while I was here, so I had no idea where she got the bright idea about staying over tonight. She wasn’t that damn tired. That post dick power nap was all the parlaying she would be doing up in my space.
I leaned against the frame of my bedroom door keeping my eyes on her as she sashayed past me without bothering to say another word. I shook my head when she slammed the door rattling the pictures on the wall.
I had no idea why she insisted on acting like that every time she had to leave. Moving from the door, I walked over and picked my phone up from the counter. I opened my money transfer app and sent her the money she’d asked for to pay her light bill before shoving my phone in my pocket and heading out myself.
I locked up and hopped in my car. With my Stevie Wonder playlist to mellow me out for the night, the short drive seemed to breeze by even quicker. Before I knew it, I was pulling into the parking lot designated for employees.
I made it to the convention center with about twenty minutes to spare. There was some kind of comedy show going on that night, and doors were set to open soon. I went to the room where we usually met up for debriefing before a show and found most of the team already there.
“You’re just in time,” my coworker, Kevin, whispered as I planted myself in the seat next to him.
“In time for what?” I asked, never taking my eyes off Carl, the current supervisor.
“The owner is here to announce the name of the new supervisor.”
I scanned the small crowd before my eyes landed on the company owner. I didn’t particularly care for Jack. He had a nasty attitude, and you couldn’t tell me that he wasn’t racist. That was neither here nor there. I didn’t have to like him to do my job efficiently. For the past few weeks, his son Justin had been working with us, training in different positions.
For someone who had no idea what he was doing, he had a smart-ass mouth just like his daddy. At least his dad had earned his stripes by opening and scaling his business. The kid didn’t have anything to show for his attitude and entitlement other than a trust fund. I couldn’t wait for somebody to beat his ass. I just hoped it didn’t have to be me.
I was proud of myself for not slapping the taste out of his mouth to show him how to control it. He was a spoiled, rich brat. Since he was the owner’s son, I tried to show him some grace. Grace only extended so far, so I was hoping that somebody else would check him before I had to do it. For the time being, I was staying out of his way as much as possible.
Our current supervisor gave his usual preshow speech before giving the floor to the company owner. I never really got nervous, but my chest tightened as Jack stood to address the fifty or so people in the room.
“As you all know, I’m Jack Walsh, the owner of Safety Pros. I wanted to come out tonight and speak with you guys in person. In just under thirty days we are losing a true gem in the company. Carl has been with us for over twenty years. Although he will be missed, I wish him nothing but the best in his retirement.”
After that statement, he paused for a round of lackluster applause from us. I rocked with Carl, but I was eager to hear the announcement of his replacement.
“With that being said, I want to ask my son Justin to come up. A few of you guys have had the pleasure of working with Justin over the past few weeks. He recently completed his coursework for his degree in business administration and will be enrolling in a master’s program this coming fall. I want him to learn the ins and outs of the company before he steps into my role in a few years. In order to gain the necessary experience, Justin will be training with Carl over the next couple of weeks to step into the supervisory role.”
The applause following that bullshit speech was completely contrived. This was some nepotism for your ass if I ever saw it. Everyone in the room knew that boy wasn’t qualified for the job. Some of us had given our blood, sweat, and tears to the company, learning different positions and working overtime just for the company owner to bring in his son when it was time for a promotion to be handed out.
I almost jumped up and stormed out, but I decided against it. There was no use in getting emotional. It never got you anywhere. I learned a long time ago to keep my feelings tucked so people couldn’t assume that I had a weakness and use it against me.
Besides, the promotion was out of my hands. I couldn’t make anyone give me something that they didn’t think I deserved. Keeping the same position only meant less stress. The only thing that was changing was the person in charge. Jack opened the floor to questions and addressed a few people once his son gave his formal introduction. I really wasn’t listening because I had already heard enough.
“What’s your name, son?” Jack asked.
I’d zoned out, so I didn’t even realize Jack was addressing me until Kevin elbowed me in my side. When I looked over at him, he used his head to motion toward the front of the room. I followed his eyes to where Jack and his unqualified, smart-mouthed son were standing.
“If you were paying attention, you would have heard what was said,” Jack spat.
“He said what is your name, son?” Justin repeated just in case I was hard of hearing.
“With all due respect, I’m not your fucking son. That ditzy muthafucka that don’t know how to watch his mouth is your son.”
“Excuse me?” Jack asked, stretching his eyes as he took a few steps in my direction.
Who the hell is he rolling up on?
“I would suggest you stop where you are. I’m easily agitated,” I warned him.
“Who gives a damn about how easy you get agitated, boy? Do you know who the hell you’re talking to?”
I didn’t realize I was on my feet until we were toe to toe. Someone grabbed my shoulder, but I snatched away from them. Focusing on the disrespectful ass owner of the company I was about to resign from, I spoke.
“Who the fuck you talking to, nigga? I’m not your boy,” I snarled.
It didn’t matter that Jack Walsh was white. As far as I was concerned, he was still a nigga.
“Chill out, Liam. Let’s take a walk, my man,” Carl suggested, walking over to try to defuse the tension.
“Nah, fuck him and fuck this bullshit job. Don’t you ever speak to me like that again, boy !” I barked before turning on my heels and pushing my way out of the door.
Like I said, fuck Jack Walsh and the company he owned. There was no way I was going to last working under him and his disrespectful ass son without catching a charge. I was done with Safety Pros.
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