Red Light Special (19 page)

Kenyatta lay in the center of his king-sized bed, the back of his head making an indentation in the goose-down pillow while he stared at the vaulted ceiling. Thick clouds of smoke from the burning blunt, tucked in the corner of his mouth, did a serpent’s dance into the air while Lennie Williams echoed in the background and rocked the historic bedroom.

He lay with a towel draped across his hard dick as he licked his fingertips and stroked his sex with warm saliva. Vibrations of the anticipated nut caused his toes to curl as he thought about the complete flip that his life had taken. No longer was Monday in bed with her knees tucked to her chest, wondering where he was and what he’d done. Now he lay waiting, masturbating and trying to figure out when the fuck did karma show up.

No longer was he considered a man of substance, one of high society, well respected, and with priority; ever since the City Council had asked him to step down, he sat at the center of everyone’s attention because they wanted to impeach him. He was an embarrassment to America’s greatest city, and not a day went by that there wasn’t someone making sure he knew that.

Yet his greatest success to date was his ability to not give a fuck, and he would show their asses just how much. In two days was his state-of-the-city address, and he’d planned an elaborate speech in which he would address the city’s budget and projected plans and then creatively tell everyone who didn’t support him to kiss his ass. Fuck ’em, he didn’t need ’em.

As the high of the weed started to have a nice effect and Kenyatta massaged his hard cock, his body trembled and his mind wished he had Monday’s manicured nails scratching down his back. He missed her breathy voice whispering in his ear about the thickness of his dick, her hot breath running across the base of his neck. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any pussy to tear into and suck when he got ready, but it was other women that had ruined him, and now he needed to concentrate on becoming a family guy, which he could do if his wife allowed him to. And as far as her past, he had a solution for that. Somehow and someway they could deal with Collyn, since she’d been Monday’s pimp, by setting her up, turning her in; making sure she went to prison. But had Monday answered any of his calls and given him the opportunity to tell her that? No, she was too busy enticing some niggah or so Kenyatta thought—to knock out the bottom of her pussy.

Kenyatta continued to play with his dick as he thought about Monday sucking it. After a few shudders and chills, Kenyatta sat up, wiped his hands on the towel, and slid to the edge of the bed.

He took the blunt dangling loosely from his lips and blew a stream of smoke into the room. He couldn’t remember when he’d last settled for being treated like this. He looked at the phone and thought about whom he could call for advice, but since he’d been caught up in so many scandals, so many people were turning their backs on him that he didn’t know whom to trust.

He thought about how this was about much more than losing a marriage, being unappreciated, and being emotionally damaged. That was the easy shit. But this…this was a whole other level of violated commitment that other people’s mortgages, kids, bills, dogs, and shit couldn’t even fuck wit’. Your average everyday heartbreak had nothing on this. This was about upholding an image, maintaining power, prestige, and position. This was about him not being able to step away from the walls of City Hall. And he needed his wife to stand by him while he proved to the haters that without a shadow of a doubt he wasn’t the niggah they needed to fuck wit’.

Tired of being fucked up behind shit he couldn’t change at least at the moment, Kenyatta lay back down and drifted off to sleep.

Hours later he heard the door creak. “Monday?” Kenyatta opened his eyes to see her standing at the closet packing her things.

“Oh, you just gon’ come here after being gone all this time and pack clothes like it’s nothing? Where have you been?”

Silence.

“I asked you a question.”

Monday sighed. “This whole nightmare is over with. This marriage is over.”

“What the fuck do you mean it’s over?” He shook his head and a muscle on the side of his jaw twitched.

“What part of that don’t you understand? I am just tired of all this shit!” As she spoke she threw clothes into her suitcase. “You fuckin’ anything that moves! Having babies and shit all over the place. Misappropriating funds! Missing bitches or should I say dead ones. And then you rolling up in here like you can beat my ass any damn day of the week. I’m tired!” she screamed. “This ho is going on the stroll. I’m the fuck out. You worthless piece of shit! You’re nothin’, Kenyatta, nothin’, and I’ll be even less if I stay with yo’ ass!”

Kenyatta stood still and his eyes narrowed on her, “This sounds like some niggah been up in your head.”

“Yeah, and everything else too! Now get the fuck out my face!”

“What? I’ll kill you before I let you leave! I promise you that shit. I will kill your ass! So you better tell that niggah to get on! You sick of me? You knew who the fuck I was before we came up in this piece. You know I love you, and now you wanna act like it’s nothing, Geneva.”

Monday looked in his face and laughed. “Love? All the times I cried, laid up here, and wondered where the fuck you been. And each and every time you were out with some bitch, telling her a buncha bullshit. Love.” She laughed again. “You don’t even know what love is.” She resumed packing her clothes. “Selfish motherfucker.”

“I said you ain’t goin’ nowhere!” He pulled his hand back and slapped her, sending her flying across the room. He walked over and slapped her again. Monday’s eyes widened and she swung her arms as if she were doing the backstroke. She squirmed on the floor. “Get off of me!”

“I’m not gon’ let you and some niggah ruin me! You need to tell whatever niggah it is to get ghost because I’m not lettin’ you go that easy. ’Cause we in this till death do us part!” He tossed her across the room, causing her to fall into the nightstand and topple everything over. As she scooted back, banging her head against the wall, she spotted her gun, which had fallen from the nightstand to the floor.

“I don’t fuckin’ believe this shit!” Kenyatta spat. “After everything I’ve been through, this is what you do? This is what the fuck you do? You ain’t shit, bitch. That’s exactly why I was fucking around. You can’t expect no man to be faithful to no ho.”

Monday felt as if horses stampeded through her mind as she reached for the gun.

“And even dead,” he went on, “Eve is more of a woman than you’ll ever be!”

As he turned to slam his elbow into her face, Monday pointed the gun toward him. “You better back the fuck up!” she shrieked, tears and sweat pouring down her face. She could feel blood dripping from the corner of her lip. Her head felt as if she’d been beaten with a bat.

“What you gon’ do?” he sneered with a smirk on his face, looking at her with disdain. “Huh?” He hunched his shoulders. “What?” His mind flashed back to the day he was fucking Eve and she was shot dead. His eyes roamed all over Monday’s bruised and battered body, and he knew that at this moment she was capable of anything. “So is that what you did, bitch, when you shot Eve in the head?” Kenyatta walked closer to Monday.

“You better back yo’ ass up!” she snorted. “And get the fuck out!”

“What you gon’ do, Monday, shoot me?” He continued to walk toward her.

She knocked the safety off and he stopped dead in his tracks. “I will kill you.” She didn’t flinch, and although tears blinded her eyes, she had a clear aim of where she would burn the bullet through his chest. “Now, you can die or you can leave peacefully, but either way you gettin’ the fuck outta here.”

“You gon’ shoot me, Monday?”

“If I need to. Now you talking too motherfuckin’ much. And I only have one word to say: goodbye.”

“This the motherfuckin’ mayor’s mansion. How the hell you gon’ put me out?”

“I mean it.”

Not able to gauge if she would really shoot him or not, Kenyatta grabbed his clothes from the floor and backed out of the room slowly. “Ai’ight, ai’ight, I see what the fuck is going on here.”

Monday stood still, unmoving, with tears pouring from her eyes. She didn’t know what to do, so she stood with the gun pointed at the door and didn’t relax until she heard the car pull out of the driveway. Then she completely fell apart.

In the shadows of the New York City skyline Kenyatta was in his secret Central Park West apartment, haunted by paranoia. His mind continued to replay the night Eve was killed here as he searched each room, the wooden floor creaking beneath his feet. He scanned through the closets, and followed the dim trails of light drifting in from the windows to every crevice of the apartment. Beads of sweat ran down his face and over his eyes.

He paced the room and then walked over to the bar and poured himself a double shot of Vodka.

Unable to calm his nerves he picked up the phone and called Hudson, “I need you.” He said as she answered. “Right now.”

“I’m on my way,” Hudson said without hesitation. “Where are you?”

“I’m not at the mansion. I’m at the 4114 Central Park West apartment—” Before he could finish she’d hung up.

Kenyatta held the phone in his hand for a moment and then he placed it on the hook. He walked back over to the bar and took steady sips of vodka to the head. His chest burned and his mind raced as he rose from the bar stool and began to pace again.

He took another shot of vodka and heard a knock at the door. He opened it and Hudson was standing there. He pulled her inside by her arm, and once she was in the apartment, he stuck his head out the door, looked both ways behind her, and slapped the three deadbolts on.

“What’s going on?” she said in a panic.

“I swear to God…I swear…” Kenyatta paced, the sound of his voice rattling with a drunken tremor, “This shit is crazy.”

“What? What’s crazy?”

Kenyatta let out a deep breath and paced a few seconds more. He knew he had to resolve this…he had too much to lose not to. The problem was he couldn’t wrap his mind around what he needed to do. He needed things to get back to the way they were, but no one ever told him how to rewind time.

“Damn,” he said, exasperated. If only they could just get through this, he would never cheat again; obviously anything that tore up his life and career like this wasn’t worth it. Which is why he’d called Hudson. She was, among other things, his personal advisor, his chief of staff, and certainly she understood more than anyone else how he desperately had to make this shit work. Otherwise his political career was finished. “Hudson,” he cupped her chin, “you’re the only one I can talk to.”

She gave him a look of assurance, “Yes…I am.”

“Which is why I’m going to tell you this.” He started pacing again. His mouth was hesitant to spit out what his mind insisted had to be true.

“Kenyatta,” Hudson grabbed his hand, “I’m here, what more do I need to do to prove that to you? I don’t wanna be in the closet anymore. I want the world to know that I love you.”

Kenyatta stopped dead in his tracks and spat out as if he’d never heard a word Hudson said, “I think…I think…my wife killed Eve.”

“What?” Hudson blinked, frozen in her spot. “You think Monday did what?”

“Everything just happened so fast. She must’ve snapped. She must’ve thought that these bitches out here meant something to me. She didn’t have to do this. Didn’t she see we were a team, that I needed her to run this city?”

Tears surged from Hudson’s eyes. “What does that have to do with killing Eve?”

“Maybe—” He clinched his fist, “Fuck! Why did she do this? She didn’t have to, she could’ve talked to me.”

“She doesn’t love you. She doesn’t appreciate you. It’s me. I love you. I appreciate you.”

Kenyatta continued, oblivious to anything Hudson was saying. “And you know what?” He wiped his brow, “I fucked up. I really, really fucked up. I should’ve just told her the truth.”

“Do you even know the truth—”

“Eve was stalking me.”

“Stalking you?” Hudson took a step back, “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?”

“Eve wanted all of my attention and I knew Monday was jealous. She must’ve found out about this place somehow, broken in here,” he turned around toward the hall closet and pointed to the missing door, “and lost it.”

“Since you think Monday killed Eve, why don’t you call the police?”

“The police? On my wife? Are you fuckin’ insane? Let me tell you something, that’s my fuckin’ wife. Not my jump-off, not my baby’s mama, not some ho’n-ass bitch in the street, but my wife. Be clear. Yeah, we fight, and I say shit to her, somethings I mean and some shit I don’t mean. But so fuckin’ what? Do you know how many bitches in the street I say I love you to? But at the end of the day, fuck them. I know Monday may have done some shit—”

“You said she was a murderess!”

“She did it because she loved me.”

“She doesn’t love you! I love you!”

“How the fuck did this turn in to being about you?”

“We are a family—we have a baby—”

“What the fuck?” Kenyatta spat, as if it just registered where Hudson’s head was at. “We’re not a damn family. You knew my situation, you knew I had a wife who I was never leaving. You knew exactly what this was. A good fuck and nut suck. And be clear, we had a baby, because you didn’t use anything, no other reason. Don’t get it twisted.”

“I don’t believe this.”

“Believe it. Your job is to help me maintain my power and position politically and all that other shit is extra.”

Hudson stood stunned, doing her all to hide the fact that she was visibly shaken. She didn’t want to cuss and scream, because that wouldn’t solve anything and sometimes the best words were left unspoken. She swallowed and stroked Kenyatta’s hand. “You’re right, Kenyatta, I was out of line. Forgive me.”

“You’re too selfish sometimes, Hudson. You overdo shit. I’m going through something right now and I need you to understand that.”

“I do and you will rise above this. You always defeat adversity. Now what did you do with the body?”

“Tracy helped. I told him not to tell me what he did with the body. I didn’t wanna know.”

“Smart move.”

“This has me fucked up. How am I supposed to give my speech in the morning?”

“You will give your speech. And you will do fine.”

“I never expected shit to be like this.”

“I know, but you need to recognize who you are. You are Kenyatta Smith, the mayor. You are the one in charge. This is your city and no one can run you out of anywhere. So I need you to be strong, because we are going to rise above this. You have the love of the people. Everyone knows your heart. They have nothing on you and nothing to tie you to her murder. As a matter of fact, if that body is not found, no one can tie you to anything.”

Kenyatta looked at Hudson. “You think? You really think so?”

“Yes.” She stroked his crotch. “I do. Now let me make you feel better.” She unzipped his pants and slid his hard member into her wet and warm mouth while Kenyatta placed his hand on her shoulders and tossed his head back.