When Duce, Cos and Thor got outside, it had started snowing again. The temperature had dropped but it was nowhere near as cold as it could’ve been for December. Cos and Thor got in the Honda while Duce walked down Lenox to where his Eddie Bauer was parked. He had his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his coat, fingering his pistol. There was something about committing mass murder that put him on edge.
It was a short walk to 141st street where his truck was parked, but the slick snow made it a pain in the ass. He bleeped his alarm and jumped behind the wheel, glad to be out of the element. Duce put his key in the ignition and the truck roared to life. He had just put the truck in drive when he felt something cold against the back of his neck. He glanced up at the rear view mirror and could see Frankie’s fierce brown eyes staring back at him. When he opened his mouth, she pressed the gun deeper into his neck.
“Shut the fuck up and drive,” she hissed. Duce nodded and pulled into traffic.
Cos and Thor cruised through the silent night in the Honda. The sounds of The Isley Brother’s Between the Sheets played softly through speakers, while Cos hummed along. He was a stickler for the oldies. Thor sat beside him bobbing his head. He was more into rap music but like with most savage beasts, the music soothed him. He was squirming in the passenger seat trying to get comfortable. Even though he had the seat pushed back as far as it would go, his legs still felt cramped. He cursed under his breath, wishing for the hundredth time that he hadn’t left his truck at home.
“Cos, when are you gonna get rid of this tiny ass car?” Thor asked.
“When you buy me another one,” Cos shot back. “I’ve had this car for years and it’s always held me down. It’s a good ride.”
“Yeah, if you’re a fucking circus midget,” Thor teased him. “Say, what you think about Duce?” he changed the subject.
“I think the young boy handled himself pretty well for it to be his first job,” Cos said.
“That’s just it. He handled himself a little too well.”
Cos cut his eyes at the big man. “Why are you so fucking paranoid?”
“You can never be too careful, Cos. Look at what happened to Ace.” Ace was a dude that they both knew from around the neighborhood. He was getting money on the streets until he gave his cousin a job. Six months later when the Feds rushed his spot, he discovered that his cousin had been a Confidential Informant.
“Thor, you’re bugging. Duce ain’t no rat.”
“I ain’t saying he’s a rat Cos, but there’s more to that kid than he’s telling. He gunned that dude down without batting an eye.”
“Well, he was locked up for a body so I know he ain’t no stranger to murder,” Cos informed him.
“Speaking of which, did he ever tell you what went down with that? How the fuck does a nigga go down for a body and come home in five?”
“I felt a little funny about it too, so I had him checked out. His government name is Melvin Bernard.”
“Bernard,” Thor scratched his head trying to figure why he felt a chill at hearing the name. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”
“Maybe you fucked his girl,” Cos joked. “From what I read in his jacket, he blew trial on a double murder and the judge gave him the long walk. A lot of niggaz scream that they’re innocent in the pen, but there was something in his eyes that almost made me believe him. Son fired his trial lawyer and handed over every penny he had to that slick talking Israeli cat who got that rapping nigga outta that rape shit. The odds of him getting the conviction overturned was so slim that I made him show me the original copies of his paperwork before I even agreed to talk any business with him. It reads just like he’s giving it up, he’s good.”
“Well, I ain’t so sure and I’m gonna keep my eyes on that sneaky mutha fucka.”
“Thor, let that boy alone. He saved our asses in there; I think he’s proven himself.”
“Not to me, Costello. The average mutha fucka just moves off survival instinct in a gunfight, but home boy was on some real Matrix shit, so that means he’s a pro and if he’s a pro then why haven’t we ever heard of him? I’m telling you, this shit is like trying to stuff triangles into squared holes.”
“Whatever, nigga,” Cos waved him off. “You need to get your mind off Duce and on this heist we’re gonna pull on Christmas Eve. This will be our biggest score ever!”
“You think there’s gonna be as much cake as Cowboy says?” Thor asked.
“More than likely. Cowboy does his homework on regular jobs, so I know he’s checked this front, back and sideways. Even if it’s close to a half mil, we’ll be straight for a while. Say, what’re you gonna do with your portion of the money?”
“Buy your ass a bigger car!” Thor laughed.
Frankie directed him down Lenox Avenue to 132nd where he made a left. They continued another three blocks until they reached Park Avenue and hung a right. Frankie told Duce to pull the truck under the L and kill the engine. For a long while there was complete silence. Duce thought about saying something, but the fact that she still had the gun pressed against his neck deterred him. Finally, Frankie moved back and allowed him to let go of the breath that he hadn’t even realized he was holding.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t smoke yo creep ass,” Frankie hissed. Her voice was cold, far colder than he remembered.
“Frankie, if you’d just put the gun down we could talk about this.”
“Talk,” she cocked the hammer back with her thumb. “I ain’t heard a fucking word from you in five years and now you wanna communicate? Nigga, you gotta come better than that.”
“It ain’t what it looks like,” he said, trying to remain as still as possible. Ninety eight percent of the time a woman scorned plus a gun equaled a dead man and he had no interest in becoming a statistic.
“Derrick, let’s not even talk about what it looks like, because if my mind and my heart take me there, as sure as my ass is black you’re a dead man,” she said seriously. “How and what the fuck are you doing here?”
“You want me to answer the questions in that order, or just wing it?” he said, trying to be cute.
“I’m the one with the gun, so I’m asking the questions,” she reminded him.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a Mexican stand off,” he motioned downward. Frankie hadn’t noticed it, but Duce had managed to slip his gun from his pocket at some point and had it pointed at her lower body.
“Sneaky son of a bitch,” she said, tucking her pistol back into her overnight bag.
“If that isn’t the pot,” he put his gun away. “Since when did you start running around with low life mutha fuckas like Cowboy?”
“Since my so called man disappeared on me five years ago!” she shot back.
“That was a low blow,” he said softly.
“Low blow, for a low mutha fucka. Duce you’ve got some nerve. You leave me high and dry to pop up years later pulling capers with my man and I’m supposed to welcome you with open arms?”
Duce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Frankie, it wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like, Duce? You drop me off one night and the next morning you’re on the news!”
“Frankie, I got blindsided. You think I had a choice in what happened to me? Fuck no!” He hadn’t meant to be so sharp, but the card was already laid. “Ma, I know I should’ve got word to you, but…”
“But what, nigga? Duce, do you have any idea what you put me through? What am I supposed to think when all my visits are denied and my letters go unanswered. And the one time your monkey ass does have the common decency to respond, it’s to kick some old funny-style shit about how you’re dead to me. What the fuck was that, Derrick?”
Duce found himself at a loss for words. From the moment the police rolled into the apartment, he knew he was finished. Frankie had been his heart since before he even knew what to do with a girl, so whether she would ride the bid with him or not wasn’t a question, but he couldn’t condemn her to that. He loved Frankie too much to sentence her to life as a prison wife, so he reluctantly let her go.
“Frankie,” Duce sighed, “letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my short life, and please believe that it’s a decision that has haunted me throughout my whole bid, but you gotta understand where my head was at. These crackers had me by the balls and the only promise of freedom made to me was to be carried out in a pine box. Seventeen,” his eyes took on a far off look. “That’s how many times I thought about killing myself because I knew I’d never see you again. I could never bring myself to ask you to ride that bid with me Frankie. I did it to protect you.”
Frankie looked at Duce as if he had lost his mind. “Protect me? Since when did I become the damn damsel in distress? Duce you and Knowledge tore them streets up, but don’t forget that we came up in this thing together, so I ain’t no virgin to pain or bloodshed. This is Frankie Five Fingers,” she pounded her chest. “While you were bull shitting, how many of those messes did I help you clean up?”
He wanted to protest but he knew she was right. Frankie went above and beyond for her man. From helping tend his wounds to lying to the police, Frankie held him down. She was the rib Adam had sacrificed to create Eve.
“That’s just it, Frankie. I had pulled you in deep enough and I couldn’t drag you down any further. You’re my heart, Frankie Five Fingers,” he said emotionally.
Frankie felt herself about to cry, but wouldn’t. She had already shed a thousand and one tears for Duce and didn’t have any left. “You could’ve said something, Duce. I was your gangsta bitch, ride or die for my nigga, remember that?” she reminded him of their oath.
Duce nodded. “So now you’re riding or dying for Cowboy?” he asked sarcastically.
Without warning Frankie reached around and slapped fire out of Duce. Frankie attacked him with the fury of a caged animal, drawing blood from his lip. Duce managed to crawl up on his knees and grab Frankie about her wrists. He tried to push her down in the seat but she reversed the move and pulled him into the back seat with her. Frankie bit into Duce’s shoulder like a dog on a bone. He slammed her against the seat hard enough to knock the wind out of the average chick, but Frankie kept coming.
He’d finally managed to pin her arms and it was around that time when their eyes met and time stood still. Their lips met in a mess of skin and teeth. It wasn’t the kiss of reunited lovers, but rapist and victim. Frankie gnawed at his tongue while Duce tried to suck the breath from her lungs. Frankie dug a pocket knife from her bra and softly down the length of his torso, cutting it open in a perfect line. When her tongue touched the crease in his chest, Duce shuddered.
With just touch, Frankie sent shockwaves through Duce’s body. She licked and nibbled on his nipples until they were almost as hard as his cock. When she looked up at him with those fierce brown eyes, he didn’t see malice or resentment, only hunger. The same hunger that ravaged his insides.
In a deft motion, he had her shirt over her head and was tossing it in the front seat before she even realized he’d moved. Slipping the hands under her bra cups, he massaged each one of her breasts and lost himself in the softness of her skin.
Everywhere Duce touched her left a warm sensation. She remembered the touch well and had craved it ever since he’d left her. Her eyes traveled down the length of his chest and came to rest on his crotch. Her hands shook so bad that she almost couldn’t get the throbbing muscle out of the jeans. She tested the weight of his penis in her hand and smiled, watching it bob up and down with his breathing.
Duce braced his arms between the headrest of the driver’s seat and the cushion of the back seat. He tried to maintain his cool, but when he felt her warm mouth on his dick he melted. She slowly licked the shaft from the balls up and wrapped her lips around the head. Frankie took him into her mouth a little at a time at first but as they got into a rhythm, she opened her throat and let him push deep enough to gag her. Frankie’s lips on him felt so good that twice he thought he was going to faint. He ran his hands through her silken hair dislodging the pins as he went. Frankie looked exotic staring at him from behind the veil of hair making him even crazier.
Feeling himself about to nut, he pried her hungry mouth loose and pulled her to him for a kiss. His clumsy hands popped the buttons off her jeans in his rush to get them off, and she wiggled a leg out. Duce propped her leg on his shoulder and shoved his face into her crotch. The sweet smell of lilac and Dove soap was intoxicating. His middle finger looked as if it might’ve been dipped in cake batter when he dipped it in and out of her. He sucked her juices off his fingers and pressed his lips to hers so that she could share the nectar. When their bodies could no longer be denied, their souls were reunited.
Even with her being wet, he had to shove himself into her, causing her to cry out. He tried to pull away but she gripped his ass cheeks forcing him deeper. Frankie’s nails raked down Duce’s back as he plowed her causing him to pump faster. Caught in the most perfect moment of his life, Duce had no idea how long they’d been going at it, but he could feel the eruption building in his cock. Frankie must’ve felt it too because she locked her legs around his waist and wouldn’t let him pull away. Duce howled like a wounded coyote when he came, but you couldn’t hear it over Frankie’s own shriek of pleasure. Cum ran from her pussy, down his thighs and onto the seats of his truck. He didn’t care though. All that mattered was that he had been reunited with the love of his life, his gangsta bitch.