CHAPTER ONE

DENIM

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

 

The sky was clear and a cool breeze rushed through my moist dreads.

I was so fucking anxious.

As I stood in front of the prison, I kept rubbing my sweaty hands on my thighs. Trying to speed things up in my mind, I closed and opened my eyes so many times hoping he’d appear, that my head throbbed. I couldn’t believe this day finally arrived.

Where was he?

The anticipation was killing me.

After so much time, my husband was coming home to me!

So much happened in my life over the past year that I didn’t think God fucked with me anymore. First, my baby girl Jasmine was killed in a fire at our house. There was no greater pain than dealing with the loss of a child and I was still not myself.

A little while after that, Bradley was arrested for allegedly raping my sister. Although I knew Bradley wasn’t capable of sexual abuse against Grainger because he didn’t even like her, he was still in jail for the crime.

Just when I thought God removed him from my life forever, suddenly Grainger went missing and I received notice that he was being released. The reason was simple. If there were no witnesses, they couldn’t hold him.

This moment was bittersweet but still I needed to know. Where was my sister?

She had been missing for almost a year and no one heard or saw anything from her. The last time I saw her she was trying to extort money from me to keep Bradley out of jail. I still remember what she said to cause Bradley to steal her in the face with a closed fist.

“You always coming at me about that retarded ass baby of yours,” Grainger said to me after we had a disagreement about how she was watching Jasmine. “Can’t nobody fuck up that kid more than it’s fucked up already,” she continued, trying to take jabs at Jasmine for being autistic.

By the time I went to grab her for disrespecting my baby, I saw a blur roll past the side of my face. It was Bradley’s fist and it landed directly onto my sister’s mouth. Grainger dropped to the floor and I could tell she didn’t have use of her lower jaw because her tongue rolled loosely around the walls of her mouth, like a fish.

He broke her jaw.

Even though no one heard from her, it wasn’t unlike Grainger to be missing in action. She claimed to be clean off drugs but I’m sure she lied. I figured she ran off with some addict and they were binging.

Yep. Things were definitely heavy in my world, which was why I so desperately needed my husband home.

I turned momentarily and smiled at my family. They were standing in front of a large black Hummer truck, just as excited as I was to see Bradley.

It was Bambi, Scarlett, Race, Camp, Kevin, and Ramirez and they all waved at me. When I glanced up the block I saw six more Hummers parked on the curb. Security was heightened because the beef with the Russians had reached an all-time high.

I focused back in front of me and a few moments later the large grey gate that held him for almost a year opened. He was coming! Although I couldn’t see Bradley yet, my heart didn’t know. It beat so heavily that my shirt moved up and down.

And then there he was. Tall and powerful. He appeared poised as he came striding in my direction. Dressed in designer blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a black Tom Ford jacket, he looked like he never did a day behind bars.

My body trembled as he swaggered closer to me, the seat of my panties getting wetter by the step. Months of playing with my pussy had gotten old and it was time for him to take care of business.

Unable to stay away a minute longer, I rushed over to him. A full smile covered my face as I leapt into his arms. He caught me and planted soft kisses all around the tattoos on my neck and along my shoulders.

And as if he just realized that we were back together he put me down and stared deeply into my eyes. It was long and hard. The kind of look that made me say yes when he asked me to be his wife. Slowly he leaned down until our lips were pressed closely together, no air between them.

It was the most passionate kiss I experienced in my life.

Eventually, although I didn’t want to, we separated. He snaked his hand around the back of my neck and in a deep whisper said, “You ain’t been fucking nobody else have you, bitch?” He squeezed tightly, forcing an electric jolt to course down my back.

I laughed thinking he was joking. It wasn’t until I looked at him again that I realized he wasn’t.

He leaned in and whispered, so that only I could hear him. “Because I will kill you, Denim. With my bare hands, I swear to God.”

I stepped away from him, afraid of how he was coming at me and afraid that I didn’t recognize him anymore.

“Can we get some love too?” Kevin said walking up behind me.

I was grateful for the interruption because I was confused. In our entire relationship, I never stepped out on Bradley nor did I think about it. He was everything I ever wanted in a man.

So why the disrespect?

Confused, I moved to the side and watched him interact with his brothers. First, he hugged Kevin, Camp and Ramirez. Then he pulled in Bambi, Scarlett and Race. I wondered was he giving them the third degree too. Or did his distrust stop with me?

“So what’s up with the extra security?” Bradley asked as he put his arm around my shoulder. I moved closer to him, still imprisoned by his comment. “It looks like ya’ll out here waiting on President Obama to come out this bitch.”

“Naw, we was waiting on your punk ass,” Kevin joked. His expression turned serious. “A lot of shit going on with the Russians. Things not how they used to be, brother. Don’t worry.” He slapped him on the back. “We’ll update you on all that shit later.”

“Yeah, right now we gotta get you home so you can take care of my girl,” Bambi said as her long brown hair danced in the wind. She winked at me. “Ain’t that right, sis?”

I nodded, still feeling out of it by Bradley’s recent remark.

“Home?” Bradley said sarcastically. “Man, I’m ‘bout to fuck my wife in the back of one of these trucks.” He gripped his dick. “The only question I got is who’s driving?”

 

****

 

Sarge was piloting the truck as I sat on top of Bradley and winded my hips like the second hand on a clock. Sarge’s old ass insisted on playing that old ass Temptations CD he always rocked but it didn’t bother me this time.

Bradley was the center of my attention.

Every time he pumped into my body, he looked up into my eyes. I didn’t know what was wrong with him earlier when he accused me of being untrue but now we were back.

When Bradley gazed at me I felt bad for those chicks that never had a man look upon them with admiration and lust. I knew my husband loved me. It wasn’t in what he said but how he touched me and how me cared for me.

“You feel so fucking good, Denim,” he said as he bit down on his bottom lip. “The pussy’s as tight as I left it.”

“You know I don’t play that shit, Bradley. I would never have another man dirtying up my body. I’m yours.” I kissed his lips, hoping he’d really believe me. “I ain’t even been wearing no tight clothes since you been gone,” I said while reveling in his touch. “If you couldn’t see my curves I didn’t want another nigga doing it either.”

That must’ve been it for him because he snatched me and ran his tongue along the base of my neck. When I felt his teeth bite down on my flesh, I knew he was about to cum.

“Ahhhhhh,” he moaned as he gripped my hips and pushed into me harder. Suddenly, he shoved me off and said, “Suck this shit. I want to come on that tongue.”

Feeling we were already doing too much with Sarge in the truck, I honored his request. The palms of my hands rested on his kneecaps and my mouth covered his penis. Within seconds, I could feel his cream splash down my throat as he reached an orgasm. It tasted like garlic and salt.

I didn’t know how I felt but I tried to put my feelings out of my mind. Ever since Jasmine died, I was emotional and I didn’t want to visit my bullshit on my husband.

So I smiled it off and said, “You didn’t beat your dick in jail, did you?” I swallowed again to push the nut down the base of my throat. “I can tell.”

“If I couldn’t cum in you I wasn’t gonna cum period.” I couldn’t stop the grin from rising on my face when I heard his words. He always knew what to say to me. His head turned and he looked out the back window and said, “Get dressed. The fam on their way over here.”

I was already pulling up my clothes. I guess Sarge knew we were through because the truck stopped and he parked. When I looked out the back window I saw two more Hummer trucks pull up.

They both were filled with members of my family.

“So what we gonna do now?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, you done already got the pussy,” Ramirez added.

“I say we go to a club or something,” Bradley said kissing me again. “I’m home and it’s time to celebrate!”

I wanted to go out with them but my plan was to go clean up first but I’m sure we would be at each other again even at the club so there was no use. He was going to have his way with me as many times as he wanted and I wasn’t about to complain.

When my phone vibrated, I pulled it out and saw it was a text message from my mother.

Denim cum right away. I need help!

I looked over at Bradley who was already staring at my phone, reading her words. Before he said anything, I immediately knew he would be mad. He and my mother butted heads constantly because in his opinion, she used me. But she was my mother and I couldn’t deny her if she needed me.

“I’m sorry, Bradley. I’ll meet ya’ll after I see what she wants, okay?” I said with a smile, hoping he’d be easy with the situation.

Bradley looked at my family and they backed away from the truck to give us some privacy. “I’m home now, Denim. Do you know what that means?”

“Of course, baby. It means—”

“That I’m going to need all of your attention and I can’t have your mother getting in the way of that,” he interrupted, squeezing my chin. “I can’t have anyone getting in the way of that. Am I clear?”

 

****

 

My husband was home and all I wanted to do was be up under him despite his weirdness. Instead, I was sitting on the edge of my mother’s tub looking down at her naked body. As she sat in murky water, I couldn’t understand why at this age she had a busted lip. When you’re as old as her, what are you fighting for? Dry blood rested on her right shoulder and when I first saw her, I thought I would pass out.

Ever since Grainger went missing, she tumbled downhill. Even harder. My mother was never good at housekeeping but now her place was atrocious. Dead mice were scattered throughout the living room due to the spoiled food she left everywhere and all of her clothes were so filthy they smelled like steamed shit. When I asked what she wore daily, she said she would pick the least dirty outfit.

“What about panties, ma? How do you find anything here?”

“I had the same ones on three weeks in a row. I just wash them out in the sink.” She pointed at the floor.

When I looked down at the ones she took off, a brown stain ran in the middle of the cream panties that were once white. I could feel my stomach rolling in disgust.

“Ma, what are you doing with yourself?” I asked as tears streamed down my face. “Look at how you’re living!” I paused. “Why haven’t you called me?”

“Because I was angry!”

“At me?” I asked touching her shoulder. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged before sighing. “With Grainger missing and my granddaughter dead, I just…I guess I just wanted to be alone.”

There she goes making everything about her. Jasmine was my baby, not hers.

I wiped my hand down my face. “Who hit you?” I asked changing the subject.

“My boyfriend Chris.”

“But I thought you were dealing with some nigga name Edwin?”

“No, Denim. You don’t remember anything I say. I was dating Edwin but then I got with his cousin Chris. Remember?”

I didn’t.

She leaned back in the tub and grabbed a washcloth. “Chris thought I was back with Edwin again and he beat me ‘cause he was jealous.” She smiled. “I don’t know why men always fight over me.”

She sounded dumb.

“You talking about Chris the drunk who be hanging out front of Handles liquor store?” I frowned.

“Yeah.”

When I thought about how stank that man was, I wanted to vomit again. My mother let anybody with a dick run up in her. She didn’t give a fuck if it was clean, dirty or had sores. She had zero standards. “Forget all that shit. Ma, why does this house look like this?”

“Because I haven’t had a chance to clean it.” She pointed to some wrinkled white papers with my sister’s face on them that were sitting on the top of the toilet. “I’ve been trying to find my baby,” she sobbed. “I just gotta find her, Denim. Just thinking about Grainger being out there without me drives me mad. I know something happened to her. I can feel it!”

My heart was broken because although my mother could be annoying at times, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. I bought her the house that she ruined. I hired a maid to come over weekly even though she was never home to let her inside. I paid for her gastric bypass surgery and she even lost a lot of her excess weight, only to put most of it back on.

Still, she never gave a fuck about me.

It was always about Grainger.

I knew she was close to Grainger. Closer than she was to me. It was evident when I married Bradley, who my sister used to date. My mother blamed me for hurting Grainger’s feelings even though their relationship was over way before we got together. But now I really knew that she loved Grainger more than me. She never asked me how I was doing now that my daughter was dead or while my husband was in jail. It was always about my sister even with her being gone.

“Mama, I hired some boys to put the posters up around the city. Why aren’t you letting them do it? You don’t have to worry about this type of shit.”

“Because I don’t trust them,” she wept harder. “They probably just take the posters and put them in the trash.”

“But I saw them around the city, ma. They are doing it.”

“I still don’t trust them!” she yelled. “And where were you, Denim? I was calling you all day and you didn’t answer the phone.”

“Bradley’s home from jail,” I sighed. “I went to get him today. I left you a message telling you that.”

Instead of being happy for me, she lowered her head. Her face spread into a frown and I felt as if she was about to hit me. “I don’t like that mothafucka, Denim. I been telling you that any man who would lay up with your sister and then you is not a man. I wish you would listen to me.”

She sounded ridiculous. “Ma, how can you say some shit like that when you live in squalor?” I yelled. “I mean look at this fucking house! I couldn’t even get to the bathroom without tripping three times. And the smell in this bitch makes my stomach turn, ma. So please don’t tell me about laying up with a man because at least mine is clean!”

“That may be true,” she said nodding her head. “But I know a bum when I see one. And that man of yours has something to do with Grainger being missing. I don’t care what he says.”

“Ma, please stop the weak shit,” I responded trying not to hate my mother for disrespecting my husband. “He was really concerned when he found out she was missing and still is. He asks me every day if I heard anything about where she may be.”

“Is that why he raped her?”

“Mama, I’m not about to sit in this filth and talk about my husband.” The only thing on my mind was getting out of that house and rolling up a blunt once I got in my car. “You can have your opinions but at the end of the day I’m gonna always be a Kennedy and it’s time for you to get used to it.”

Silence.

“I don’t have Grainger anymore, Denim,” she whispered. “And I need you. I’m all alone.” She placed her hand on her left breast. “Don’t forget about that while you’re living in paradise with the husband you would give up everything for.”

“What does that mean, mama?”

“That I need to move with you. Or I might kill myself.”

 

****

 

I was sitting in the car smoking a blunt outside of my mother’s house. I couldn’t see letting her live with me but what else was I going to do? I believed her wholeheartedly when she said she would kill herself and I couldn’t let that happen.

After taking a deep pull, I tapped my blunt into the ashtray and called Race. The moment she picked up the phone, I could hear cheering in the background. I guess the family was celebrating already. “What up, sis?” she said. “Where you at? We trying to party with Bradley, and all he keep talking about is you.”

I smiled. At least he was thinking of me. “I’ll be there in a second. You know funky Chris?”

“The nigga who be hanging on our most profitable block in D.C.?” she giggled. “Who tried to rob Jamaican Wayne and got his face fractured in 21 places with his fake gun?” she giggled.

“Yeah,” I said pulling on my blunt before releasing clouds of smoke into the ceiling.

“I know his dusty ass. Why? What’s up?”

“I want you to find someone to make him comfortable,” I said, which was code for kill that nigga.

“Say no more. You already know what it is.”