18. Venus
venus
. . .
“Uh, uh, mm, right there!” I rode his face violently.
I yelled loudly as an orgasm erupted from my body.
Collapsing to the bed, I breathe heavily, catching my breath.
He leaned over, taking a sip of his beer, then sat up in the bed next to me.
It was quiet between the two of us. I don’t know if he had anything to say, but I had plenty.
Everything we planned had gone downhill, and I needed him to explain why.
Speaking up, I ruined the sexual bliss we were in and said,
“Que, you asked me to convince Rashad to let you join their team, and I did. You asked me to put you on to Crimson and I did! What else should I have done, because from where I’m standing, I did my part.
Now, did you? Only part you held up was killing Dro and leaving evidence of the robbery that pointed to Rashad.
But as always, you got cocky. Getting Crimson pregnant wasn't part of the plan.”
He took another sip of his beer and placed it back on the nightstand. “You knew that was the only real way to get Jahsir out of hiding.”
“Jahsir wasn’t hiding. He is very intentional about the shit he does.”
“You sound like you admire the nigga.”
“I’m just saying, Que. Getting Crimson pregnant, filling her head with dreams while she was already vulnerable, then leaving her to struggle with a baby wasn’t cool. These are people's lives at stake.”
“See, that's your problem. You fell for her.”
“No, you fell for her.” I paused, my throat tightened as I realized he’d fallen for yet another woman while I sat on the sidelines.
I really let him play with me, multiple times.
“You and I were supposed to be together,” I said, my voice cracked in spite of the hardcore exterior I often tried to keep up.
“How do you have four kids in four years? Where the hell does that leave me?”
“Where you’ve always been. My business partner. Nothing more.” He shot back.
The words felt like a dagger to my heart.
I stared at him, waiting for something. Maybe he was drunk and regretted those words.
I looked up, searching for hesitation, but he just picked up his beer again like we weren’t talking about all of the shit he got me caught up in, while promising me the world.
“I wasn’t a business partner when I was riding your face a few minutes ago!”
“Be careful, baby. You’re wearing your heart on your sleeve.”
“Que,” I uttered while my heart sank to the deepest part of my chest. Was this it?
After everything we did, hell, everything I did and sacrificed .
Que was a master manipulator, that was nothing new.
But part of me had really thought I was the exception to his deception.
That maybe, aside from the hustle, I actually mattered to him.
I felt like a goofy, and now I was alone.
But I wasn’t about to let him see me sweat, not now. Time to put my game face on. If he wanted to be strictly business, then that's exactly what I’d give him.
“Okay. Well, speaking as your business partner , I need my cut.”
“I can’t give you what I don’t have. The robbery and kidnapping bullshit was once again your idea, and it all went south. They were only able to get about 30K. I let them split that evenly.”
“Split evenly? So I get nothing? You really got me fucked up, Que!”
“All you think about is money.”
“Hell, ain’t that the goal? I’m clearing my debt from nursing school!”
“More like buying Birkins and other bullshit you don’t need.”
“Wow. You really got lazy over the years. Where’s the grind? What happened to investing?”
“With what money, Venus? You know my parents cut me off. Only thing they doing is letting me and my family live there for free.”
“What money?” I laughed bitterly. “I gave you fifteen thousand dollars!”
“And that was years ago.”
“So what! Not to mention the money you got from the original heist, Crimson’s rent money that got her evicted, and God knows what else. Are you for real? You’ve sat on at least 300K over the past few years, and you ain’t got shit to show for it?”
He said nothing. That silence was louder than any lie he could’ve told. Now my karma was hitting me hard as hell. I did all the scheming and scamming I could to elevate a nigga and stack for myself. And now I was left with nothing, not even the friendships I scammed my way into.
And the only thing he had left to give me was silence.
Silence, four kids with other women, and some bullshit about me being only his business partner?
I was hurt. Not just by the words, but by how easily he dismissed everything I gave him: my money, my loyalty, my body.
But more than hurt, I was fuckin pissed.
So, I did the only thing I knew how to do when a nigga hurt my feelings, shit hurt theirs, harder.
“Call your mama and get my money, Que.”
“Man, what?”
“They are always bailing you outta shit. From my calculations, you owe me at least 50K. I need my coins. Call yo mama and get my shit before I tell Jahsir and Rashad everything I know. You know you fall in line when you hear their names.” I was in full attack mode and didn’t give a fuck.
“Venus, I’ll beat your ass up in here. Don’t ever disrespect me like that again.”
“Having a dick-swinging contest with me when Rashad and Jahsir got you spooked is crazy work.”
“Bitch, what?!”
“Bitch?” I laughed hysterically. “Que you weak as hell. You the type of nigga that let niggas skip in front of you at the barber shop. Hell, even Crimson got more balls than you.”
His eyes flashed with an anger so intense that it even scared me.
But before I could brace myself, his fist cracked across my face.
Pain exploded through my cheek and I stumbled back, crashing into the edge of the bed.
I tumbled onto it, clutching my face while shock washed over me.
My mouth filled with blood. My thoughts were running rampant, but one was clear: the man had put his hands on me.
“You hit me?” I blinked, tasting blood.
“I told you not to disrespect me.”
“You broke ass nigga,” I snapped, as my rage overcame the pain I was experiencing. “You didn’t even pay for this room with your cheap ass! And you got the nerve to put your fuckin hands on me?!”
With pure instinct, I lunged at him. I didn’t give a fuck how big he was; nobody was getting away with hitting me. My nails tore across his neck, then I caught a clean slap across his face that echoed off the marble floors. He grabbed me instantly, hoping to keep me from doing more damage to him.
“Let me go, muthafucka!!” I screamed, thrashing in his grip.
Que’s jaw clenched. Then he shoved me aside like I was nothing. “I told you to shut the fuck up.” He barked. "You bitches never know when to stop talking.”
He turned to walk away, but his coldness lit something inside me. I was misused, disrespected, and now enraged. I scrambled to my feet and charged, clawing at his neck again. I hauled back and tried to slap the skin off his face.
“Venus!” he shouted, grabbing my arms. Yanking out of his grip, I snatched a glass from the minibar and hurled it at him. Missed. But I slapped him again and hard. That was my last move. He seized my wrist and twisted it behind my back. Pain shot up my arm.
“Venus, have you lost your mind? Stop while you’re ahead,” he growled, tightening his grip. “Chill the fuck out!” He snapped.
And then I spat in his face. That was it.
The last line was crossed. His hand flew and backhanded me hard enough to twist my body around.
I barely registered it before he grabbed my hair, slammed me onto the bed, and punched me again.
Everything blurred. The ceiling fan spun above me, a slow, hypnotic spin.
I heard his voice, but it was just noise now, barking, booming, distant.
My vision swam. My body buzzed with pain.
He loomed over me, hand pressing against my throat. I bucked and thrashed, chest heaving, trying to throw him off. But I was losing strength. Losing air.
“Are you done?” he said, voice low and poisonous.
“I hate you,”
“I know,” he said flatly, rising from the bed.
I didn’t move.
I couldn’t move.
My body throbbed in places I couldn’t explain. My wrist was on fire, my lip pulsed, and I could feel it was swollen. My entire face felt like it had caved in. But the worst part was the silence in the room and the shame crawling under my skin.
“My mama told me to leave you street bitches alone,” he muttered.
“Now I see why. Let me make this simple because there’s too much heat on me.
You better fix that and fast. If you can’t turn this shit around, I’ll visit your sister Aries.
She looks like a prime candidate to be baby mama number three.
“Que, please…” I begged, hoarse. “I’ve done everything I can. No one’s talking to me anymore. There’s nothing left-”
“There’s always something. My parents are tight with the District Attorney. I make one call, they put the pieces together, and the heat comes off me. They need a witness, someone close to everything. That's your job.”
He leaned in close and smiled at me like the demon he was. “I want Rashad and Jahsir gone by the end of the month. And because I like you…” He paused. “I’ll have them draft up a bounty or something. You’ll get paid, and you can consider that your cut; then you and I are finished. Deal?”
I nodded but said nothing. I didn’t cry, but my body trembled like it wanted to.
I lay there in that overpriced-ass room that I paid for with a busted lip, bruised face, and aching wrist, and the realization hit me hard—I had no choice but to finish this job.
This wasn’t just to protect my family. I needed to protect my lifestyle.
If Rashad, Crimson, or Jahsir ever found out about me and Que, I’d have to run. Leave Mulholland Falls behind. And pray they never found me.