4. Joker
Joker
A couple days later
“ J oker!” Monica’s voice came from the front of my penthouse. “I know your ass is in here!” Her heels clacked against the marble floors as she walked toward my bedroom. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked when she stepped into the doorway. From my full-length mirror, I saw her standing there with her arms folded over her chest and all her weight shifted to her right side.
“Something came up.”
“You couldn’t call me and tell me that? Instead, you leave me there looking stupid and like a liar. Then when I called, you wouldn’t even pick up the phone.”
“I’on owe you no fucking explanation. Better take something came up and get the fuck out my face.”
“I told my family that my man was coming, and I got stood up. How the hell you think you don’t owe me no explanation?” Her brow arched to her hairline.
“I’m not cha man,” I said, spinning on my heels. Picking my platinum Rolex up off the dresser, I fastened it onto my wrist.
“Where the hell are you going?” Monica stood there, soaking in my appearance.
“To a funeral.”
“A funeral?” She frowned. “Ain’t nobody died. Whose got damn funeral are you going to?
“How ’bout you just mind your fucking business,” I told her and brushed past her out the room.
“Why are you always being so got damn secretive with me?” she asked as she followed me down the hallway toward the elevator.
“Everything ain’t yo’ business. Why can’t you comprehend that?” The doors shut, and we silently rode down to the first floor.
Soon as the doors opened, Monica continued with her rant as if she wanted everyone to know what we had going on. “I don’t think it’s right how you treat me. I be nothing but good to you.” We marched through the lobby toward the exit. When I stepped outside, Dough was parked at the door, waiting for me. “I feel like you owe me for standing me up the other day.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it to her. Without uttering a single word, I strolled to the passenger side of the truck and hopped in. I didn’t bother to look back in her direction to see what her expression was. Monica was really starting to get on my fucking nerves. She was so close to being tossed to the side.
“You good?” Dough questioned me as he pulled away from the curb.
“I’m straight,” was the only response he got from me.
The ride to Mercy Baptist Church was silent. The packed parking lot could be seen as we approached from up the street. Dough pulled into the parking lot and parked directly at the door behind the family cars. We got out, walked up to the entrance, and went inside the church. The ceremony had already started. Everyone was seated except for Hassan, who stood up there at his grandma’s lavender casket. Despite his back facing me, I knew it was his ass from the balding spot in the back of his head. Nigga’s dreads were slipping out his head one by one like noodles. I’ll never understand why he didn’t just cut that bullshit off.
Slowly, I strolled down the aisle in Hassan’s direction and stopped alongside him. He cut his eyes in my direction, and I could feel the shivers off his breath when he noticed it was me standing there.
“She looks beautiful,” I simply said as I admired his grandmother. They had her dressed in this lavender dress with a short gray wig on her head. Her makeup could’ve been done a bit better. Whoever did that shit made sure to make her look dead as hell.
“Thanks,” Hassan responded and looked over his shoulder. His head quickly whipped back to his grandma’s casket. From his gasp, I know he saw Dough standing at the door.
“Where’s my money, Hassan?”
“I promise I’m gon’ get it to you.”
“You was supposed to get it to me weeks ago.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I ran into a bit of trouble. I just need a couple days.”
Lifting my hand into the air, I beckoned for Dough. Nigga made it to us so fast as if he teleported there. In one swift motion, Dough gripped Hassan by the arms and tossed his ass over into the casket with his grandma and slammed the shit closed on him.
“Let me out of here!” Hassan yelled and banged from the inside of the casket. I climbed on top of it and sat there, facing everyone who was in attendance at the funeral. They gazed upon me with widened eyes, but no one budged to come and help him. They knew better.
“Help! It’s dark in here! Let me out of here!” Hassan screamed and kept banging.
The moment he fell silent was when I finally spoke, “I’m not gon’ keep playing fucking games with you. I want my money, Hassan. If I have to come back and find your ass again, you won’t be stuffed in a casket alive,” I warned him and jumped back to my feet.
Everyone eyed me as I sauntered back toward the exit with Dough on my heels. We stepped out the door and I flipped my wrist to check the time on my watch. “Run me by the stadium right quick,” I told Dough. He nodded and we got back into the truck.
About five years ago, I got a football stadium built right in the heart of downtown. It was my way of putting back into the city and trying my hardest to keep some of the boys off the streets. If I wasn’t so heavy in the streets, I definitely would’ve pursued a career in football. Back in high school, I was a beast on that field. I brought Carver High plenty trophies back home. The best quarterback to ever see Montgomery. I was offered so many scholarships to go to school then proceed to the NFL, but I grew accustomed to that fast money.
Dough pulled up to the back of the stadium where I normally parked and I got out the truck. I unlocked the back door and entered .
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but signups are over,” Brittany, the manager of the stadium, said from down the hallway. I kept strolling. My office was just on the other end. When I caught out of my peripheral who she was talking to, I back tracked. It was shawty from the grocery store. She stood there dressed in a pair of black slacks that hugged her small curves. Shawty was far from thick, but she had enough ass that I can grip and smack. Her breasts weren’t that big either. She was probably a good B cup, if that. The white button-up shirt she wore was pulled out of her slacks in the front. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, letting me know that she probably made this trip over here from work.
“Come on, please. Is there something you can do? My son really wants to play football.”
“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing that I can do. It’s closed,” Brittany said and walked off, leaving shawty standing there with her head lowered, fiddling with the cash in her hand.
Turning, she went toward the exit. I said, “Aye, hold up.” Shawty stopped and turned in my direction. I jogged toward her. “What’s going on?”
“Are you following me?”
“Hell nah.” I frowned. I wasn’t that desperate for no pussy to be following anyone.
“I came to sign my son up for football, but they said the signups are closed.”
“I ain’t know you had a son.”
“How would you? It’s not like I told you.”
“How old is your son?”
“He’s eight.”
“I think I can fit him in. Let me handle it.”
Her forehead scrunched. “You work here?”
“I own this shit, ma. Come on.”
I trudged down the hallway with her directly behind me toward my office where I knew the signup sheet was located. Sticking my key in the door, I unlocked it and pushed it in. I gestured for her to enter before me and she brushed past, giving me a whiff of her sweet berry scent.
Stepping to my dark mahogany desk, I grabbed the clipboard and pen then handed it over to her. “Thank you so much,” she said and jotted down their information.
“It’s no problem.” She handed me the clipboard back and the cash. “You can just keep that.”
“Uh uh. It’s for him to play football.”
“Let’s be honest, I know you probably need the cash. He’ll be fine.”
Her mouth fell ajar. “I’m not a charity case. I don’t know what type of woman you take me as, but I don’t need your help. Here.” She shoved the money into my chest and exited the office. I wasn’t trying to piss her off or anything. I was just trying to look out for her.
Shoving the cash into my pocket, I grabbed the MacBook out my desk drawer and locked the office up. Dough was waiting by the exit for me.
“Who’s that?”
“Some chick that wanted to sign her son up for football,” I told half of the truth. She was also the only woman who’d been turning me down lately. I was accustomed to always getting what I wanted, then there was her… the woman who didn’t seem to know me and denied me access to her.
“We need to make one more stop before you take me back to the crib. Run by the warehouse.”
Dough nodded and we exited the building. Soon as the door shut behind me, it locked. We climbed back into the truck, and he pulled out of the parking lot. My mind drifted back to shawty. No matter how much she pushed back, I was gon’ find me a way to get her ass. For whatever reason, I felt incomplete, knowing that I didn’t have her on my team.
“What’s that?” Dough questioned, bringing me back to reality. When I looked up, I saw something rolled up in plastic sitting at the entrance of the warehouse. Dough parked, and I pulled my piece from my waistline and opened the door. Dough approached the plastic first. When he turned back to me, he said, “It’s a body.”