Suave pushed the bedroom door open, tiptoed in, and saw Monica fast asleep, her face partially covered by the sheet. Just to be sure, he moved the sheet slightly and peered at her beautiful face for a moment.
Suave breathed a sigh of relief and undressed down to his boxers. Careful not to wake Monica, he slipped onto the bed, under the sheet, to cuddle with her. It wasn’t long before Suave slipped away into a deep slumber. This time, there was no Pat or Pastor Ralph. At least for now.
* * *
“Well well well. Look what the cat dragged in this morning.” Monica’s voice was laced with sarcasm. Her lips were pouted out, and a scowl smeared her pretty face as she rested her hip against the kitchen sink. “Which one of your whores were you with last night, Suave?”
Suave smiled. Shirtless in black sweatpants, he walked over to Monica and stopped inches in front of her. “Good afternoon, babes.”
Monica glared at him. “Don’t ‘babes’ me, Suave. I’m tired of your foolishness. One day soon, I am going to take the kids and go live with my parents in the Bahamas.” Monica had been telling him that for a few years now, but Suave knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
He leaned over and planted a loud, wet smooch on her lips. “Girl, you know I was doing business last night. Stop tripping.”
“You need to spend more time at home with your kids.”
“I know, but I’m doing this for all of you.” He kissed Monica’s neck. “By the way, where are they?”
“My sister took them to National Heroes Park. If you keep your behind at home as you should, you would have known that.”
He nibbled on her lips.
“Stop that,” Monica said with a smile flirting the corners of her mouth. “You know I’m mad at you.”
Suave chuckled. “I know, and I’m sorry. So, how about some lunch? A brother is starved.”
Monica rolled her eyes. Now, sporting a big grin, she walked over to the fridge to make him something to eat. Last night was now forgiven, like the many years of unfaithfulness that resulted in the many kids by many other women.
Moments later with a full stomach, wearing a white wife beater, a baggy pair of blue jeans riding his narrow hips, and a new pair of white sneakers, Suave hurried to the Benz parked in the driveway. His long dreads were pulled back in a ponytail, and the huge rock in his ear and around his neck winked at the bright shining sun. Suave had places to go and people to see. But first, he needed to touch base with Cobra and Daddy Lizard to check up on business. He had missed a few of their calls.
Suave’s cell phone rang as soon as he got into the car. It was Queen Bee. He peered at the phone. I think I’m going to let Cobra or Daddy Lizard deal with her from now on, he thought as he drove off, placing the cell phone on the passenger seat. I’m not going anywhere near that punk again.
The phone rang again. With one hand on the steering wheel, Suave reached for the phone. He glanced at it and saw it was Queen Bee again. Something must be wrong. “What’s up, Queen?”
“Suave, I’m glad I got you,” Queen Bee began. “Listen, I’m on my way to put out a fire.”
“What about the—”
“That’s what I want to tell you. I left the stuff with my brother, Pat, at the house. Please go and get it now because he has to leave soon.”
Suave’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, his face twisted in a deep frown. “You know I don’t like people handling my business, right?”
“Pat is not people, Suave. He’s family.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Suave flipped the phone shut, before opening it again. He glanced back and forth between the road to the phone while dialing a number. “Cobra, where you at?” he asked when Cobra answered.
“I’m in St. Ann with Daddy Lizard.”
“What? What are you doing there?”
“We tried calling you last night and this morning, but you never picked up,” Cobra explained. “We have some trouble with a few soldiers, so we came down to take care of it.”
Suave shook his head. He was too messed up last night to take care of business, and it was all Pat’s fault. “I got sidetracked. My bad.”
“That’s cool, Boss. Just so you know, we’re taking care of it and should be back later tonight with an update.”
“Okay. Call me if you need me to come down.” Suave disconnected the call. He had a problem. With his two right-hand men out of town, he had to go and get the product from Pat himself. The last thing he wanted to do.
“You know what? Business is business,” Suave muttered as he steered the car toward Jones Town. “I’m not afraid of no punk or no ghost. I’m Suave Brown.” His face was set in stone.
Approximately thirty minutes later, Suave was pulling up in front of Queen Bee’s gate. Like the night before, it opened immediately, closing after Suave drove in. Some of the girls should be at home. I’ll get my stuff from the sissy and be on my way, he thought, patting the gun in the waist of his pants as he walked up to the front door that was left open.
“Hello?” Suave peered down the hallway but saw no one. He took a few steps inside the quiet house. Puzzled, he glanced around before closing the door. Where was everyone? “Anyone here?” he asked as he mounted the stairs to the second floor. No response.
“Where is that fool?” Suave mumbled as he approached the bedroom with hesitation where he saw Pat the night before. “Someone opened the gate and
