Beautiful Nightmare Page 2

  The woman’s body fell onto the bed, forcing the fake dick out of her ass. She lay still, in a heap, with blood spewing from her orifices. Raven moved from her body without caring if the woman was dead or alive because she had to go. Calmly, she threw on her trench coat and put the dildo and paddle back inside of her bag. She pulled her cover from under the lady, making her fall to the floor and on her back. She would never lie her body on any surface in that motel. Smiling at a job well done, she looked around the decrepit room. Raven shook her head, and a sinister sneer crossed her face at the thought of the cleaning crew stumbling upon the gory scene in a few days.

  “Maybe they’ll just set the room on fire,” she said to herself.

  She took one last look at the lady and could see her stomach rising while she struggled to take her last breaths. Maybe she’ll still be alive when they come, she thought as she walked out the door and straight to her car. She made sure to never go to a hotel where there could be witnesses. She always paid by the hour and made sure her car was very close. In St. Louis in the run-down hotels on Grand was where all the dopeheads and drug dealers did their dirt, so she knew there would be no surveillance cameras anywhere. The owners of the run-down hotels didn’t give a shit who was in and out, as long as they got their money. So, as far as DNA or evidence, the rooms were so horribly dirty and cluttered with about twenty years’ worth of semen, vomit, mildew, grime, and other parasites that she knew she would never get caught.

  While making her way to her car, she exhaled in satisfaction. Raven chirped her alarm and hit the trunk button on her key ring, popping her trunk open automatically. With renewed strength, she tossed her bag inside, and then closed the trunk. She walked toward the driver’s side door and slid inside. Closing the door, she looked at herself in her rearview mirror, then smiled. The engine came to life as she turned the key to the ignition, and, as quietly as she came, she pulled away slowly and headed toward the highway en route home. It had been a long and fulfilling night, and now it was time for her to rest.

  Chapter 2

  Valencia

  Valencia Ball sat at her cluttered desk, reviewing legal files. She had been a paralegal for three years and recently began working at Johnson and Associates. It was a larger law firm than she was accustomed to, but she hoped it would bring a little more excitement to her life.

  Tired of looking at papers, she sat back in her high-backed brown leather executive chair and sighed. Her small office was quaint and unassuming. Nothing in her office identified her. There was nothing personal—no pictures, no plants, not even a sweater draped over her chair. Her eyes looked at the mirror that hung on the wall in front of her, and, when she caught a glimpse of herself, she shook her head sadly.

  With black hair that cascaded down her back, deep brown skin, and slightly slanted, honey-colored eyes, Valencia captivated everyone around her. However, to herself, she was mediocre, to say the least. She didn’t like her dark skin tone and felt she was too tall. Even though she didn’t like her skin color, Valencia loved dark-skinned men. She just never thought that two dark-skinned people should connect, so she didn’t date. Confined only to her 9 to 5, her life was boring. Outside of her best friend Sena, she rarely talked to anyone but clients. Some days, she found herself sitting and daydreaming about what her life would be like if she ever found love. Would it be like the love she sang about in the music she listened to? Could someone ever really love her unconditionally? But she knew in the end, her life would never change, so there was no need in wishing upon a star. Besides, you can’t miss what you never had is what she would always tell herself.

  Chapter 3

  Kidd

  Kidd, his younger brother Moochie, and his homeboy Skillet were finishing up their breakfast at Goody Goody, which puts you in the mind of a bodega. It was small and family run. After a late night at the club and still slightly hungover, along with having the munchies, their table was full of empty plates that were once filled with chicken, waffles, eggs, turkey bacon, and hash browns. They also had watered down Pepsis and were awaiting refills. As regulars at the restaurant, most of the older patrons tried to ignore what they brought into the establishment—loud talk and raucous laughter, but, as usual, the females were trying to vie for attention.

  “Hey, Kidd,” a small, light-skinned honey purred as she passed by their table.

  He looked up and gave her a head nod, then turned back to his boys. Kidd wasn’t shocked by the attention he received. He was well known in the hood, and the ladies wanted him. Standing a full six feet even with brown skin, high cheekbones, shapely lips surrounded by a neatly trimmed goatee, dark eyes rimmed by long eyelashes, and a sexy swagger, he resembled a young Method Man.

  “So, dig. I’m down on honey doing what I do best. This bitch screaming out my name and shit, talking ’bout ‘stop for a minute please.’” Moochie became more animated as he continued his story. “I’m thinking I’m killing it and ole girl was loving it ’cause her face was all contorted and shit, so naturally I thought the bitch was ’bout to bust a fatty, but then this raunchy bitch fucked around and farted in my face.” Everybody broke out into a fit of laughter. “Man, that shit ain’t funny,” he confirmed. “I punched that bitch in her pussy so hard she ain’t gonna be able to fuck for a long time.”

  Moochie always had a good story to tell. He was exactly one year younger than Kidd was. They were born on the same day, only one year apart. He was Kidd’s right-hand man and the only family he had left. You rarely saw one without the other. After their mother passed away, Kidd clung to his younger brother for sanity. Watching their mother struggle for life and wither away had done something to his mental. He latched on to Moochie hard and made him his only reason for living. He made sure he was taken care of. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his little brother. Moochie was the spitting image of his older brother with the exception of the shoulder-length dreads he sported.

  “That’s what the fuck you get,” Kidd said sarcastically and slapped him in the back of the head. “You ain’t supposed to do that shit to every chick you meet. I thought I taught you betta! You gonna fuck around and catch that nasty man’s disease in yo’ mouth.” Sometimes, Kidd didn’t understand the things that came out of Moochie’s mouth.

  “Right,” Skillet cosigned, “and the catch of the day is only at Red Lobster.”

  Everybody erupted in laughter again.

  The host, Gary, while making his rounds, returned to their table. “What story you telling now, Moochie? I know ain’t nobody, but you got everybody over here laughing like this.”

  Gary was a tall, slim man who was three shades darker than a Hershey’s Kiss. He had been watching the two brothers come in for years with their mother every Saturday. After she passed away, it took awhile, but eventually, they started coming back and kept up the tradition, and he always enjoyed them when they came.

  “This nigga let someone fart in his face,” Skillet blurted out in between laughs. Gary grinned at the admission and looked at Moochie. “So, how was it, man?” Skillet asked. “I know it couldn’t have been that bad. She was a dime.”

  “Fuck that shit, man. Pardon my French, Mr. Gary,” Moochie exclaimed. “But what look good on the outside definitely wasn’t good on the inside. That shit smelled like a batch of greens that been sittin’ out for ten days. You know how that shit sneak up on you? But that fart didn’t. That shit hit instantly.”

  Laughter filled the air again at Moochie’s expense. Gary joined in this time around, but he didn’t stick around to hear any more. He was sure it would be too vulgar for his Christian ears.

  “So we going out tonight?” Skillet asked looking between the brothers after the laughter subsided. He took a sip of his soda and chewed on the ice cube that he put inside of his mouth.

  “I dunno,” Kidd answered with a shrug, taking a long drink of his soda. “Where y’all tryin’a go?”

  Moochie’s mouth opened to answer, but Kidd cut him off. “I ain’t going to tha
t nasty-ass Pink Slip again. The last time I was there, this muthafucka here was getting his dome shined by some ho, and nigga was sitting right next to me.” He nodded toward his brother with his lips turned up in disgust. “I ain’t down with all that raunchy shit.”

  “Man, get out of here with that bullshit! Don’t you two niggas still take baths together?” Skillet looked at the two brothers and started laughing, but he was the only one that found that joke funny.

  “Fuck you, nigga.” Moochie gave him the middle finger. “But, aye. Damn! You saw that shit? I told the bitch to be more discrete,” Moochie laughed as he looked back at Kidd.

  Once again, everyone laughed at Moochie’s crazy ass.

  Kidd reached inside of his pocket, pulled out four twenty-dollar bills, and laid them on the table.

  “Where you headed?” Moochie inquired as he threw another piece of cold bacon in his mouth.

  “To see Devin,” he said, referring to his longtime friend whom he had helped to get his law firm off the ground.

  Devin was actually a criminal lawyer, but he did everything for Kidd. When he decided to take extra classes to learn about investments and taxes, he’d contacted Kidd. He knew Kidd would be perfect for a good profit. If it wasn’t for Kidd, he wouldn’t have his own law firm that was currently one of the biggest in St. Louis. Devin knew all the ins and outs, courtesy of Kidd. Kidd saw potential in him and knew that, in his line of work, he would need him in the future. Kidd had a lot of illegal money to invest, but he chose to invest the money he got from his mother’s insurance money and never touch it. The 200K had now grown to well over 5 million in seven years. He invested for Kidd; he was his tax lawyer, and he’d turned a lot of Kidd’s money legal.

  “Got some business to take care of. Y’all can follow me. Then, we can see what’s up after that.”

  “Naw, man. I had a bad experience in one of them lawyers’ offices,” Moochie said with a stern look.

  “Oh shit! I feel another story coming on,” Skillet confirmed.

  “I’m out, y’all.” Kidd stood and gave everyone at the table some dap and strolled toward the door. As he was walking out, he could hear them laughing hard. He made a mental note to make sure his brother told him the story too.

  After Kidd slid inside of his old-school Chevy Impala, the sounds of Lil’ Wayne filled the air. Once he pulled off, he quickly changed his playlist from rap to R&B. He was particularly feeling the R. Kelly cut “You Bring Me Joy.”

  He cruised down Highway 170 toward his lawyer’s office in Clayton, slumped in the seat coolly singing along with Kells. He thought back to when he was a child and his mother would always say, “Wanya, if you can’t put a smile on a woman’s face, then there is no sense in talking to her at all.” Back when his mother kept a smile on her face, they were a happy family. He hadn’t felt that kind of happiness since the day she took her last breath right in front of him and Moochie. Even with all of the women after him, Kidd always said he would never get married until a woman could make him feel the way that song portrayed love. Or until he met a woman that made him want to put a permanent smile on her face. He wasn’t necessarily looking for love, but he also wasn’t running away from it either. If Mrs. Right came along, he would gladly embrace her.

  His boys always clowned him not only about living in the county, but also about being an R&B thug, but he didn’t care, though. He knew the perception of county niggas—that they were weak, but he could come as hard—or harder—as any city nigga. Kidd didn’t give a fuck who was from where. If he was disrespected, nobody was immune to retaliation. Everybody bleeds when a full clip gets emptied in them, he thought.

  He admired the big buildings as he cruised the busy streets of Clayton. Lawyers’ offices, courts, and expensive restaurants lined the streets, and the uppity rich folk walked hastily to their destinations. He had been driving this route for almost three years, and the hustle and bustle of this area still never ceased to amaze him. It was as though, once you entered the area, you were in a whole different world. These people seemed to have no problems and not a care in the world.

  He had never struggled in his life, not even as a child. He was a hustler. He was the kid in school that came with a book bag full of snacks and goodies. Every day, he would come home with no less than a hundred dollars, hell-bent on saving every bit of it. His mother took good care of them, giving him no reason to spend his own money. Then, he moved up to selling weed, and, soon, he graduated into the real drug world. Soon after that, his boss offered him the deal of a lifetime, and there was no looking back after that.

  * * *

  Valencia looked at the clock on her desk and saw that she had ten minutes before her next appointment. Standing up from her chair, she stretched and ran her hands down her sleek frame, covered in a cream-colored Donna Karan suit. The matching Michael Kors pumps made her legs look even longer as she glided toward her door.

  “Johnson and Associates, how can I help you? Please hold,” the receptionist said three times before Valencia arrived at her desk.

  “Hey, Sena, girl,” she acknowledged her best friend who had gotten her the job at Johnson and Associates.

  She held up her finger, signaling Valencia not to go anywhere as she answered two more calls.

  “Girl, if I have to say that again, I swear my head is going to explode!” Sena’s words were dripping with frustration. “So, what you singing this morning?” Sena asked as she turned in her chair to face Valencia. She was referring to the game she and Vee played. The song would usually describe how they are feeling at that exact moment.

  Valencia shook her head. “I can’t even think of one right now. My mind is just blank. What about you?” Valencia really wanted to say “I Cry to Myself” by Chanté Moore, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to dampen her friend’s spirits.

  “Shit! Sometimes, I feel I want to aann aann run away I want to aann aann get away.” Both women broke into laughter.

  “You better get them calls before Mr. Johnson jumps down your throat. Damn! Your switchboard is lit up like a Christmas tree,” Vee pointed to the switchboard.

  Sena shook her head and rolled her eyes as the switchboard continued to light up. “Where you goin’? To lunch?”

  “Nah. Too late for lunch. Just to the bathroom before my two o’clock arrives.”

  The noise began to irritate Sena. “I’ll talk to you later, V.”

  Moments later, Valencia passed Sena, who looked even more irritated. She laughed at her friend and then disappeared back into her office.

  Sena rolled her eyes and continued to answer the ringing phones when the elevator chimed. A larger-than-life smile crossed her face when a tall man stepped out of the elevator. Walking toward her, she acknowledged him seductively. “Good afternoon, Mr. Brown. I’ll let Mr. Johnson know you’re here.”

  Her mouth began to water so much that when she licked her lips, it looked like she had put on a fresh coat of lip gloss. She had had so many nasty thoughts about this chocolate dream in front of her that, if people could read her mind, they would probably faint from all the freaky shit she wanted to do to him and wanted to let him do to her.

  Sena eyed Kidd like a lion stalking her prey, but he was used to it. Like always, he turned and walked toward the waiting area, sat down, and began to flip through a Forbes magazine. Kidd moved off vibes and energy when or if he chose to approach a woman.

  All the years he had been coming to the law office, Sena wanted him in the worst way and had explicit thoughts of him roughing her up, putting her in a full nelson while he hit it from the back. She got up from her desk and sashayed past Kidd, giving him the full view of her body. With her five feet four frame, she embraced her size twelve black girl ass and full set of perky double Ds. Although she was biracial, she denied her white heritage, but it was hard to ignore her big curly locks that hung down to the middle of her back and striking hazel eyes.

  Without knocking, she walked into Valencia’s office. “Girl, your
two o’clock is here, and he is hot! I mean H-O-T kinda hot,” she fanned herself.

  “He? I don’t have a man as my two o’clock appointment.” Valencia frowned up her face.

  “Oh, this is Devin’s good friend. Everyone gets pushed around when he comes in. Devin can’t see him now, so he has to see you, the next best thing!” Sena smiled big as she handed her the file with her next appointment’s information in it. “Trust me, you will not be upset about this switch up.”

  “You’re a mess,” Valencia admitted truthfully, laughing at her friend. “But I’m not thinking about any man right now,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  “Song is ‘Red Light Special.’ You might not be, but I am, and he could get the muthafuckin’ business right now.” Both women giggled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though, because, later on today, you’ll be dreaming about him getting the kitty cat, and, when you come to your senses, it’ll be too late because I will have already laid my vicious head game on him.”

  Valencia laughed. “You are stupid. Now, will you move so I can go talk to the man?”

  “Whatever!”

  Valencia walked toward the door and opened it. “See you later, and call in some takeout at Taylana’s. I’m hungry now.” Valencia walked out of her office with Sena on her heels.

  “You tell me your song after you see him ’cause I got a few more that popped into my head like ‘Sex You Up,’ ‘Half on a Baby,’ and ‘Bump N’ Grind.’ Girl, the list could go on forever,” Sena yelled as Vee sped up her pace to get away from her crazy friend.

  “Mr. Brown?” she spoke as she opened the door to the waiting room.

  Kidd looked up and was instantly awestruck by the goddess who was walking toward him in what seemed to be slow motion, calling his name. She had him tongue-tied looking eloquent and statuesque in her suit and three-inch peep-toe pumps that adorned her small feet. He could tell her body was strapped from the front and wondered if she would need some help getting all of her hips and thighs out of her curve-hugging pantsuit. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, showing off her beautiful facial features. Her eyes were dark brown with hazel flecks dancing throughout them. Her eyes complemented her smooth complexion. She had just enough cleavage for it to look tasteful. He took a moment to admire everything about her. Her makeup was delicately applied with lips covered in a pale pink lip gloss that made him want to lick them. He had never seen anyone as beautiful as her in all his days. She was a far cry from the women he was used to on a regular basis. He had a few top-notch chicks in his stable, but she was in a league of her own.