The Apostles (30 page)

When at last she stopped jerking, Shawn kissed and licked his way back up to her breasts and neck. With a firm tug she pulled his boxers down and helped him kick them off onto the floor. He mounted her and slid home into her tight wetness.

“Damn, ma, you super wet,” he whispered in her ear.

“You like my pussy wet, don't you, daddy?” she breathed.

“Hell yeah,” Shawn mumbled as he tenderly pumped in and out of her.

They made love for a while, then Vanessa said, “Daddy, you acting like you scared of this pussy. You ain't gone hurt the baby. I want you to fuck me. Grab my ass and bang yo pussy!”

She didn't have to tell Shawn twice. He reached under her and grabbed two handfuls of her big, soft ass and began to thrust deep and hard into her.

“That's it, daddy!” she screamed. “Fuck yo pussy! I feel you in my stomach! Fuck yo bitch, daddy! Tear this pussy up! Ahhhh!”

The bedsprings began to protest as Shawn dug in and jackhammered his member into her soft wetness. Faster and harder he pumped until sweat began to bathe them both.

“Don't come yet, daddy!” Vanessa screamed. “Please don't come! Let me turn on my stomach!”

A little reluctantly Shawn dislodged himself so Vanessa could flip over on her stomach. Before mounting her from the back he took a brief second to enjoy the sight of his incredibly voluptuous woman lying on her stomach, with nectar dripping from between her thighs. As he slid into her pussy from the back she clenched the muscles between her legs.

“Damn, ma,” Shawn moaned. “You know I can't last behind you when you do that shit. You gone make me come too fast.”

“All right, all right.” She sulked, but she loosened her grip. “Grab my titties, daddy.”

Shawn reached under her and grabbed a handful of her breasts and began to stroke her deeply from the back.

“Harder!” Vanessa commanded and lifted up her hips to meet him.

Shawn pinched her nipples as he pounded into her. Suddenly she began clenching and unclenching him from inside. The added sensation was more than he could handle. He exploded into her.

Spent, Shawn lay on Vanessa's back for a few extra moments, making no other movements than licking her neck and nibbling her ears. Finally he untangled himself and fell on the bed beside her. Unfazed by their encounter, Vanessa reached for a strawberry and bit it in half.

Watching her eat, Shawn felt something that seemed to pervade every fiber of his being so strongly that it scared him. His heart started beating fast and his stomach did a couple of flips. Shawn had to catch his breath. Bewildered, he looked around the room. Then he realized what the feeling was—it was happiness, a thing that seemed to have escaped him most of his life. He looked over at Vanessa; she hadn't noticed a thing. She was too busy stuffing her face with strawberries.

Shawn sat up. “Nessa, I'm almost through with the stuff I had to take care of. I'm almost ready to go.”

With a mouthful of strawberry, Vanessa asked, “What you saying, Shawn?”

“I'm saying call the travel agent. In a few weeks I'll be ready to go check out Tacoma. I'm ready to get started on this move. Plus, I don't want my kid to be born here.”

“Oh, Shawn!” she gushed, as she got on her knees to hug him. “I love you so much, daddy! You make me so happy!”

“Okay, okay. I love you too, Nessa, but yo chubby ass is getting strawberry slob in my doggone ear.”

“M1,
WHAT'S UP
, A?” S
OLEMN SHAWN ASKED AS HE STROLLED
toward the candy counter in A-Land.

Murderman's head swiveled around from the video game he was playing. “I'll be right wit you, SS. Soon as I get killed.”

“Take your time. Beez, what's up, Unc? How's the arm?”

Looking down at his arm sling like he'd just noticed he was wearing it, Bezo said, “I'm living, nephew, so I ain't gone complain. You want something?”

“Give me a Snickers and one of the fruit punch juices.”

Bezo pulled a cold can from the fridge and took a candy bar from the counter and handed them to his nephew. Solemn Shawn pointed to a newspaper on the counter.

“That today's, Unc?”

“Yeah,” Bezo said sourly as he picked up the television remote and began flicking through the channels. He settled on the Maury Povich show. The subject was women trying to find out who exactly their baby's daddy was by having several subjects take DNA tests. Seemingly, it was the only topic on Maury's show of late. About the newspaper, Bezo stated, “Yeah, that depressing-ass smut rag is today's paper. But I must forewarn you that it is smothered with propaganda, a side order of lies, and a tall glass of media-induced paranoia.”

“Uh-oh,” Solemn Shawn said as he picked up the newspaper. “You been hanging out with your ex-Black Panther Party friends
again. You been fucked up since they let all them Westside old-timers out the joint. I'll be in the back.”

“Fuck you, nephew. You need to hear this shit. That's what's wrong with you motherfuckers these days. Since the beginning of time, you coons believe that anything a motherfucker with a pen writes is the God honest truth. From the cats that translated the Bible on back—any motherfucker can write some shit and you stupid motherfuckers read it and believe it. I say that over seventy-five percent of the shit you read today is written by pseudoreligious, warmongering homos.

“Take a look in that there paper. They got a big-ass article about how all these pedophile-ass priests be fucking up these kids' lives and they act like they condone that bullshit. Trying to downplay that trifling-ass sick shit. Homosexuality—that ain't nothing new. That shit been going on since them doggone Greeks decided to play butt hockey with one another. I ain't even mad at that. What two consenting adults do to one another is they thing, long as they don't get none of it on my new shoes. My problem ain't the homos. It's the goddamn, motherfucking, nasty, perverted-ass pedophiles. We used to call them shorteyes back in the day. In those days we wouldn't stand for no bastard to be touching and sucking on the kids. We would kill one of them motherfuckers for that shit.

“Now this motherfucking newspaper writing about this shit like it's damn near the norm in today's society. If one of them kids that was touched and had they whole life fucked up grows up and blows one of them cocksuckers' brains out they damn head, then he wrong. And the Catholic church. Don't let me get started on the archdiocese. Besides the fact them motherfuckers been changing God laws since the beginning of time. Now with these fucking dirty-ass priests they don't want to throw them bums out in the fucking streets where they belong. The fucking archdiocese would rather eat shit than let the world see them trying to clean it up. So, nephew of mine, you take that newspaper and enjoy, because I wouldn't wipe my ass with it. But hey, what do I know, I'm just a shopkeeper.”

“Okaaaay, Beez,” Solemn Shawn said as he eased through the door to the storeroom. He agreed with his uncle on certain issues, but he really didn't feel like standing still for him to rail for the rest of the afternoon. Spreading the paper out on the table in front of him, Solemn Shawn got comfortable and began to brush up on recent events as he snacked.

He had finished his candy bar and most of his juice by the time Murderman entered the room. He continued to look through the newspaper as he waited for his friend to state his business.

“Sorry I took so long, A. I can't kill them zombies on the fourth level for shit in the world.”

“You love them shooting games,” Solemn Shawn commented.

“Be trying to keep my aim right. Plus, video games is the only place you could gone on a zombie killing spree. I wish some old mutated-ass shit happened like that in real life right here in the Chi. I would be giving it to them zombie fucks until they tore me apart. All head shots. Like what?”

Without looking up from the newspaper, Solemn Shawn said, “I personally wouldn't want to see no shit like that. And I know you called me down here for something other than discussing video games.”

“Aw-ight, A. I know that's your polite way of saying get to the point. You know the shit we been on with the Goofies. I think I know who kicked it off. I recognized the cat that shot Bezo and Big Ant the other day. It was the dude that came to holler at us at Charlene's a while back. That pussy that was calling hisself Insane Wayne. The best I can figure it, I think that motherfucker is behind our recent run-ins.”

The mention of Insane Wayne piqued Solemn Shawn's interest. “You talking about the guy whose mouth was wired up. You threw a couple at the dude that night and you said it didn't bother him.” Solemn Shawn jumped to his feet. “Hold the fuck up! Remember that motherfucker left with our champagne bottle. The cops said they found my prints at the scene of this guy Bing's murder. It must
have been on that damn bottle. That motherfucker planted that shit!”

“Right,” Murderman added. “Bing is the reason they fucked him up in the first place. That's the nigga he told on. Think about it. This nigga been pulling stunts on both ends and got us going at each other. All he do is pop up and fuck somebody on either side around, then we go at each other while he chilling.”

Solemn Shawn took his seat again. “What do you propose we do about this?”

“I know it might sound crazy, but I thought it out. I think we should have a sit-down with the Goofies and let Vee know the business. If both parties agree we can have a peace treaty while we catch this nigga.”

Solemn Shawn chuckled. “For a minute there you almost sounded like our old friend Vee would listen to reason. Don't forget he just buried two of his guys.”

“Yeah, well, I think he will listen. I know that he got to be tired of burying his guys. Plus, while we doing each other this stud Wayne is cooling out with his heels kicked up, waiting for another opportunity to catch more bodies. Both the Governors and the Apostles need to be hunting this stud like a fucking dog. I think Vee will listen if we tell him the business straight up. What you say, SS?”

“You're the Apostle of War, I'll go with your decision. If you want to meet, set it up.”

“I already did, the meet is tomorrow night.”

Solemn Shawn drank the rest of his fruit punch. He closed the newspaper and folded it up. He looked Murderman in the eye. “Just for the record, Vee ain't the sharpest knife in the kitchen drawer, so I don't think he gone believe this shit.”

“We'll see,” Murderman said.

“That'll be twenty-seven dollars, sir,” the cashier at the concession stand told Big Ant.

“Gotdamn!” Big Ant exclaimed as he counted out the required
amount. “This is why I stay my ass at home and watch the sorry-ass Bulls. Twenty-seven bucks for two bratwursts, two slices of pizza, and two watery-ass beers. Then they got the nerve to have crackhead-sized portions. Murder, get yo pizza, yo. I shoulda made you pay for yo own shit since you picked this motherfucking place to meet. I hate the United Center.”

“Enjoy the game, sir,” the cashier said with a note of condescension in her voice.

“Yeah, whatever, honey,” Big Ant shot back at her. “Where our seats, Murder? And please don't tell me they in the nosebleed section.”

“Just bring yo ass on and quit complaining. It ain't like we coulda sat at half court and had this meet, A. You sure you good, SS?”

“I'm cool. Just enjoying the brilliance of your picking this place to meet.”

“Genius, ain't it,” Murderman bragged. “See, SS, you ain't the only one with the brains God gave a billy goat. I didn't want to do that old TV show-ass shit. You know, the meeting in the alley in trench coats-type shit. And this was the only place that me and Vee's people could agree on. It was easy to go online and find a section where nobody had really bought no tickets for.”

“High-ass place,” Big Ant grumbled. “The United Center be killing me. They got prices like Jordan still playing here.”

“Aw quit whining, A, and come yo ass on. Our seats right through here,” Murderman said as he looked at their ticket stubs.

Big Ant groaned when he saw how far away from the floor they were seated. “Damn, nigga, did you get us the farthest seats they had in this motherfucka? I wish I woulda bought some binoculars.”

In their seats they began to enjoy the game. A few minutes into the second quarter, Vee, followed by Teddy and O, made their way to their seats in the same row. Vee sat to Solemn Shawn's right with an empty seat between them. Teddy and O sat to Vee's right.

“Vaton,” Solemn Shawn said.

“Shawn,” Vee returned. “Nice place you niggas picked. We can meet without worrying about walking into a setup.”

“Yeah, I was just mentioning that to Murder.”

Nodding in the Apostles' direction, Vee said, “I see you got ole Michael Moore and Big Ant here. Niggas still wit you, huh? I thought by now somebody woulda done murdered Murder.”

Not letting the slight pass, Solemn Shawn observed, “And I see you still got Thirsty Teddy with you as well. You must have gave back all that time on that rape.”

“DNA tests is a motherfucka,” Teddy said. “Same way I beat that murder rap.”

“Well, enough of the motherfucking small talk,” Vee interrupted. “I didn't come here for that shit. I didn't really want to come, but I didn't want it said that Vee didn't want to at least hear a motherfucka out when it comes to peace.”