Kiss the Ring (32 page)

She bristled at the coolness.
Fuck I do to her?

When Naeema moved back into the house and set about making it livable she knew she didn't bake brownies and visit her neighbors for introductions. Hell, she doubted she could point any of them faux, suburban living asses out in a lineup but instant hostility? Taking a deep breath to keep from getting to the woman's level, she forced a smile.

“How you doin'?” Naeema began, placing her hands on her hips. “Someone just broke in my house and I wondered if you saw somebody running away? I live in—”

“Nah. I ain't seen shit,” she said, with one last hard look and an eye roll.

At the sound of a chuckle, Naeema looked up and spotted a man sitting on the porch in a kitchen chair leaning against the siding. One of the white pillars nearly shielded his presence. His eyes shifted down to take in her thick thighs in the black high-waisted leggings she wore with wedge sneakers and a tank top tied beneath her full breasts. He twisted the toothpick in his mouth from side to side, enjoying the view, and Naeema knew he was the reason for the woman's instant animosity. His disrespect. His past—or current—cheating. His shit done to her. That was their bullshit. Not hers.
Fuck 'em
.

Naeema kept it moving.

“He ran around dah corner.”

Naeema stopped and looked down at the little girl who was still pointing down the street. The opposite direction Naeema was moving.

“Shut your ass the fuck up,” Freckles snapped at her, tugging roughly on the girl's hair and popping her cheek with the back of her hand causing tears to fill the whites of her eyes.

Queen's anger sparked and she balled her right hand into a fist as she raised it from her side.

“What the fuck wrong wit' you, yo?” the man on the porch roared, jumping to his feet to rush down the stairs and grip the woman's red Afro in his hand to tug at just as roughly.

Queen uncurled her fingers and lowered the hand she was just about to swing against the woman's freckle-covered neck. Instead, she turned and crossed the street needing to be out of their space for her anger to ebb. On any other given day Queen would straight snap on a man abusing a woman—especially in front of a child—but in that moment she didn't give a shit. He could straight deliver a
Mortal Kombat
punch to her ass and she wouldn't blink.

Ignoring them, she turned and looked down toward Eastern Parkway. The traffic on the one-way boulevard flowed steadily and she knew the thief was long gone. All she wanted was a clue as to how he looked. Any little clue to help her hunt him down and then beat his ass down.

No need to keep going that way. His back would be to them.

Heading back down the street she locked her eyes on an eight-unit apartment building. The porch was crowded with a dozen teenage boys all posted up without a care in the world. She walked up to them and her eyes narrowed as she watched a young girl in booty shorts and a tank walk out onto the porch and take a blunt from the mouth of one dude, hit it, and then turn to blow a stream of thick smoke into the mouth of another just before she kissed him.

Naeema frowned a bit as she got closer and saw that although the girl's thick body said eighteen her face revealed she was no more than thirteen. A baby trapped in a grown woman's frame. That didn't bode well for a young girl without much sense to know better. Naeema knew that shit firsthand.

Naeema's steps faltered as the girl turned and walked inside the apartment building. Every boy watched her movements with their eyes before their bodies followed as well. One by one each disappeared from the porch into the building. One by one.

Naeema shook her head. It would take a fool—and she was far from that—to know their plans included entering her. Violating her while she took their sex like a compliment. One by one. “Shit,” she swore.

She continued down the street and then took the steps by two before she pushed the front door open and paused before entering the hallway. It was unlit and the darkness offered some coolness from the heat and sheltered the bodies now gathered in the corner with their backs to her.

“Damn that bitch can take a dick, yo,” one of the voices said.

“Hurry up, yo. I got next in the pussy,” said another voice.

Naeema pressed her eyes closed as she felt taken back to a time and place where she was the young, dumb girl in a small room with one bed and a line of boys waiting to fuck. One by one.

She pushed the door opened wider and the band of sunlight streaming in widened. The boys at the rear of the semicircle, who were of various heights and weights, glanced over their shoulders. Their faces were a mix of guilt and annoyance. Naeema didn't give a fuck.

As the boys' urgent whispers began to rise in the air she jammed a thin and less than welcoming rug under the door to keep it open. “Get out. All of you,” Naeema said, her voice showing her aggravation that she even cared to stop the train.

“Who dat?”

“I don't know that bitch.”

With an eye roll and a heavy breath Naeema came striding toward them, pushing the sweaty and musty bodies out of the way. She turned up her nose at the smell of the girl in the air. It wasn't pleasant and in the heat of the hallway it was even worse.

A thin boy was between the girl's open thighs as she lay on the floor. He hadn't stopped his awkward rutting in the commotion. The girl looked up and their eyes met in that quick second just before Naeema bent down to grab the teenager by his neck and the rim of his pants, which were down just below his flat ass.

With one solid grunt she yanked him out of her pussy and onto his feet as he hollered out, “What the fuck!”

“Get up,” she said to the girl still lying on the floor with her legs spread wide like the arms of cult leader preaching to his followers.

BAP
.

“Ow,” Naeema yelled as a hit landed across the side of her face sending sharp darts of pain behind her eyes and her mouth.

“Damn!” someone hollered out.

The footsteps of some of the boys flying out of the hall echoed.

Naeema felt herself sway on her feet but she fought to stay up on them.
Oh shit, I got hit.

“Why you hit her, Tee-Tee?” the girl asked.

Naeema stiffened her back, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then looked over at the teenager still standing there. Five others stood with him. She didn't know if they were enjoying the show or were ready to pounce. She got her mind-set focused on the latter.

I ain't no killa but don't try me. Well, I sorta
am a killa. Anyway . . .

She fired off a round of punches to Tee-Tee's smug face like it was a speed bag in a boxing gym. When she caught the sudden movement of someone in her peripheral vision she instinctively turned and delivered a solid gut punch that sent the short, squat-looking boy to his knees as he fought to reclaim the breath she knocked from him. Just as quickly as she turned back and grabbed Tee by the throat he tried to deliver another blow.

Silly rabbit . . .

She grabbed his arm and whipped his young buck ass around to slam against the wall as she twisted his arm behind his back.

He released a high-pitched scream that would put a soprano to shame.

“Anybody else wanna try me?” she said, locking eyes with each one to let them know she was ready for their ass. She even leveled a hard look at the girl, who stood there with her booty shorts and underwear down around one ankle.

No one said a damn thing. Good decision.

With a grimace she jerked Tee-Tee from the wall and pushed him across the distance into the opposite one. She waited to see if he was ready for some more.

He shifted his eyes away from her. He wasn't.

Naeema turned and the remaining boys stepped back, making a path straight for the ajar front door. She headed right for it, ready to feel the sun and get some fresh air. Just before she stepped out onto the porch she turned and pointed her finger at Little Miss Hot Ass. “Let me holla at you for a minute,” she said to the young girl, pausing just long enough on the porch to take a deep inhale.

For the moment all thoughts of the man who broke into her home were set aside . . . but just for the moment.

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I
have to thank God for His continued blessings. I am so grateful for my career that continues to grow every day. I am finally walking this path with anticipation of everything He has in store for me.

The rest of this is to acknowledge the ladies in my life. I love my man, my brother, and all the men I am blessed to call family but this ain't 'bout them right now! Lol.

I am a woman who can say that I had the examples of extraordinary women to help raise me, guide me, nurture me, and protect me. My mother, Letha. My granny Bertha. My aunts, Rodger (aka Sister), Marsha, and Alberta. How blessed was I to have all of you? Strong, beautiful, independent women who left an imprint on my life that remains to this day. My mother, my guardian angel first on Earth and now from heaven above, I thank her for teaching me to listen to my gut.
I am finally getting it, Ma
. My grandmother Granny, I wonder almost every day if I am living up to the woman she helped mold me into. She always told me and the other young girls in the family that if we grew up keeping our panties up and our skirts down we would be alright. Lol.
That was just one of a million of your one-liners I need to write down one day, Granny.
My aunt Alberta taught me through example to never be afraid to laugh loudly and enjoy life. My aunt Marsha showed me how not to be afraid to strike out on my own. And last but not least, my aunt Sister
has always pushed me to want and work for more. I thank her so much for everything she has ever done for me. I'll never forget how she purchased a box of my first book back in 2000. A box! Forty-eight books.
How awesome are you, Aunt Sister? You tried so very hard to fill the gap my father left behind. Please know you are appreciated and loved.

Kim Louise, my sistah of the written word and my good friend, thank you for those three a.m. calls to check on me as I struggled to finish this book and the many times you answered when I called to run an idea by you. I put some serious teeth into a huge chunk of your life and you never shook me off. Not once. A true friend indeed.

Claudia, my agent. Eight years, huh? Please know I thank you for everything you have taught me about this business. I speak and deal with a confidence backed by a knowledge base you helped manufacture. I take comfort in knowing that above being an agent you are my friend and that friendship will last a lifetime.

Okay, enough with the mushy stuff. Lol.

To the team at Touchstone, thanks so much for the hard work and care you all have put into this book. I cannot say enough how much I enjoy working with you all. There are not enough words to express my gratitude to Melissa Vipperman Cohen, Martha Schwartz, Anne Cherry, Cherlynne Li, and Kyle Kabel. Phenomenal work. Great book inside and out. I appreciate you all.

To my online community, especially everyone who is so outgoing on my Facebook page, thanks so much for keeping me connected to the world. I appreciate all 8,600 of you talking books with me—mine and others!

Thank you to all the reviewers, literary
publications, bloggers, book vendors, bookstores, and anyone out there who supports the beauty of books and reading.

That's it for now. I have yet another deadline to meet.

Forever grateful,

Meesha Mink