Guard the Throne Page 4

  “Pancakes. I made enough.”

  Curtis looked around the kitchen and took in the aroma that filled his nostrils. “Where are your brothers?”

  “Don’t know. I know they ain’t home, ’cuz they ain’t stampeding around the kitchen trying to eat up everything.”

  Curtis chuckled.

  Citi jumped from her chair, ready to fix her father a plate of pancakes and smoked sausages. She reached for another plate from the dish basket. But before she could place a lick of food onto his plate, a scowl crossed her face. She instantly went from happy to livid within the blink of an eye.

  “Good morning,” Victoria greeted with a smile. She stepped out of Curtis’ bedroom barefoot and clad in one of his T-shirts. It was clearly too big for her, falling down to her knees and covering her nakedness. Her disheveled hair and satisfied smile were a clear indication that she had been fucked right.

  Citi glared at her father’s company. “What the fuck is that bitch doin’ here?” she spat.

  “Citi, apologize.”

  “No. Why is she here, Daddy? She doesn’t know you. She just fuckin’ you for a come-up, or some money.”

  Curtis shouted, “Citi, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I’m tired of these bitches coming and going.”

  “Young lady, you need to watch your mouth,” Victoria chimed.

  “Fuck you, bitch!”

  “Curtis, that’s your daughter, but you need to check her. That little brat is spoiled, and she needs somebody to spank her ass.”

  “I dare you to come over here and lay a fuckin’ hand on me.” Citi clenched her fists as she continued to glare at Victoria.

  “Citi, go to your damn room now!” Curtis shouted.

  “Tell that bitch to leave, Daddy.”

  “She’s not going anywhere. She’s my company.”

  Citi looked like she was ready to cry.

  Victoria stood behind Curtis and smirked at Citi, angering her even more. Victoria then said, “If you were my daughter . . .”

  Before Victoria could finish her sentence, Citi sent a porcelain plate flying at her head. “Fuck you, bitch!” she screamed.

  Victoria moved her face from the hurling plate just in time as it smashed against the wall behind her. Remnants of the plate struck her in the face.

  Curtis lost his cool and went chasing after Citi like a cat after a mouse. But Citi was fast. She sprinted from her father’s grasp and out the kitchen.

  Before Curtis caught up with her, Citi ran out the apartment in her bedtime attire and went running off to the apartment next door. She banged on Ms. Eloise’s door. Eloise opened the door, and Citi went flying into the old lady’s apartment like a gust of wind.

  Curtis watched from the doorway of his apartment. He figured Citi needed to cool off. He looked at Ms. Eloise and said, “You keep her for a moment, and teach that girl some respect, Ms. Eloise.”

  “She’ll be fine, Curtis. I’ll talk to her.” Eloise’s wrinkled smile lit up the hallway like a beacon.

  Curtis nodded. Then he shut his door and went back to entertaining Victoria.

  Citi sat slumped on Ms. Eloise’s couch looking like she had lost her puppy. Her arms were folded across her chest, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Eloise entered the living room and peered at Citi with her warm smile. She stood only five two and weighed no more than 110 pounds, but she had a heart that outweighed everyone else’s in the projects. Her hair was pinned up in a bun, and her kind eyes focused on Citi like a worried mother. Clad in a rainbow housecoat that covered her frail frame like a shroud, she approached Citi with concern.

  “What is wrong, chile? Talk to me.”

  “I’m okay, Ms. Eloise.”

  Eloise sat next to Citi and tried to console her. “I know you’re not okay, chile. What’s wrong? You know you can always talk to me, Citi.”

  Citi wiped the tears with the back of her hand and sighed deeply. “I’m tired of my father bringing these bitches over. I thought we were going to have a great breakfast. He dissed me for her.”

  “You know Curtis cares about you a great deal, but he is a man, and a man will always be a man. But you, Citi, you will always be his princess. I’ve known your family for ages, and your father will always put you first, like he’s always done.”

  “Well, I didn’t feel first in his life this morning.”

  Eloise smiled. “You are, with him and with me.”

  Citi managed to smile.

  “C’mon, I’ll make you some hot chocolate and fix you a piece of chocolate cake.”

  The mention of a piece of Eloise’s chocolate cake put an even bigger smile on Citi’s face. Eloise was known for her cooking, but she was even more famous for her baking.

  Citi followed Eloise into the kitchen. She tried to forget about her father’s bitches. When she was at Eloise’s place, it felt like time stood still and she was in good hands. She and Eloise talked like they were mother and daughter.

  ****

  Curtis stepped out his door clad in black slacks with a stylish button-down underneath his woolen pea coat. He wanted to look like perfection. He planned on seeing Ashanti today in Harlem, and every time he went to see her, he dressed like he was the Dapper Don. Everything on him was precise. Even the cufflinks on his shirt sparkled like diamonds.

  He had gotten rid of Victoria earlier. She was the finest bitch in Queens, but she couldn’t compare to Ashanti. She didn’t even come close. Curtis’ feelings for Ashanti were unmatched.

  He walked down the hallway and stopped in front of Eloise’s door. He knocked and waited. Eloise opened up and smiled at Curtis.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “She’s fine, Curtis. We’re just sitting here talking over some hot chocolate and cake.”

  Curtis smiled.

  “You want to speak to her?”

  “Nah, that’s okay. I’ll give her some time. She needs it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Tell her I’m making a run. I’ll be back tonight.”

  Eloise nodded.

  Curtis reached into his pocket and pulled out a large bankroll of fifties and hundreds. He peeled off three hundred-dollar bills and attempted to pass the cash into Eloise’s hands.

  “Curtis, there is no need for that,” Eloise said, rejecting the money.

  “Take it, Ms. Eloise.”

  “I’m okay, Curtis. You keep your money.”

  Curtis sighed. He hated when she turned down money from him.

  “Go run your errands, and I’ll keep Citi here with me. It’ll be like an afternoon sleepover with us girls,” Eloise said with a smile.

  Curtis smiled. “What would I do without you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Curtis said good-bye, and Eloise closed the door. Curtis lingered in front of her apartment for a short moment with the cash still in his hand. He crouched near the door and subtly slid the three hundred dollars under the crack of the door. He was going to give Eloise something whether she liked it or not.

  Curtis got behind the wheel of his flashy Mercedes-Benz. He started the ignition, and the engine purred. He pulled down the sun visor and checked his reflection in the mirror quickly. He looked handsome. He pulled out of the parking spot and headed toward the Van Wyck Expressway.

  Curtis navigated his Benz through the busy Harlem streets. It was early afternoon, and 125th Street looked like a farmers’ market, with the shoppers strolling up and down the cluttered sidewalks, and traffic at a crawl. Curtis smoked his Newport as he sat reclined in his ride, R&B playing in his ear. He was thinking about Ashanti. He wouldn’t admit it publicly, but he missed her. He was looking forward to their rendezvous at her apartment on Amsterdam Avenue.

  Curtis found pa
rking and stepped out of his car looking like the mack he was. He quickly caught eyes, as locals peered at the fashion that adhered to his athletic frame, and the jewels gleaming underneath the cold afternoon sun. He made his way toward the towering project building smoking the cancer stick.

  Ashanti opened the door with a smile and a cigarette in her hand. Curtis stood in front of her with a glowing smile. Sade was playing in the apartment.

  Curtis gazed at Ashanti’s outfit. Her tight leggings highlighted her thick, curvy hips and legs, and her skimpy T-shirt exposed her pierced belly button. She was voluptuous up top. Her midnight hair flowed down to her shoulders with grace, and her slanted eyes were hypnotizing. Ashanti’s body was to die for, and Curtis never got tired at looking at her from head to toe.

  “You’re early,” she said, blowing smoke from her mouth.

  “You ain’t glad to see me?”

  She stepped to the side to allow Curtis into her lavishly decorated apartment. He locked eyes with his woman and entered into her domain. She was living like a queen in the projects, thanks to him.

  Curtis reached into his pea coat pocket and pulled out a wad of hundreds. He passed Ashanti her monthly allowance—five grand. Ashanti took it from him and placed it on the living room table.

  “I got you living nice, huh?”

  “’Cuz you know I was the best piece of pussy you ever had, nigga. And you still can’t get enough of this.”

  Curtis chuckled.

  The queen-size sleeper sofa by the window, the Hiro living room table set, the Lisbon dining room set, the Hana-ki floor lamps situated exactly so around the apartment, and the Luxor entertainment center seemed to come straight out of Elle Decor magazine.

  “You always had taste, baby,” Curtis said.

  “In my fashion, furniture, and in my men,” she replied with a grin. “You thirsty?”

  “I’ll take a drink.”

  Ashanti sauntered over to her makeshift bar and began pouring Curtis a shot of Jack Daniel’s. She knew it was his favorite. Curtis’ eyes lingered on her thick thighs wrapped snuggly in her leggings. He had a strong craving for her that ate away at him like a sickness.

  She handed him his drink, and he took a few sips.

  “So, you gonna ask about your kids?”

  Ashanti took one last pull from the cancer stick and rubbed it slowly out into the ashtray. Looking at Curtis, she exhaled and said, “I know they’re okay. Their daddy is gonna always take care of them. But what’s the update on them?”

  Curtis took another sip of whiskey and placed the glass on the table.

  “Me and your daughter got into it this morning.”

  Ashanti chuckled. “Over what?”

  “Nothing serious. She’s definitely got your attitude and temper.”

  “That’s my girl. And Chris and Cane?”

  “My little niggas are about their business. They’re learning, especially Chris. He’s like me. But, Cain, you know he’s a wild one. He got into it the other day with some rivals. He knocked these two niggas out cold on the street. I had that beef squashed, though.”

  Ashanti smiled. “Like father like sons.”

  It was cool to hear about her kids, who were now teenagers. She hadn’t seen them in years. She didn’t want to be a mother, and didn’t want to raise any babies, but Curtis continued to get her pregnant. Ashanti had tried the domestic life with Curtis, but it was short-lived. Her heart was in the streets, and she didn’t have time to be slowed down with three children on her back.

  The two came to a resolution: Curtis would raise their children without any interference from Ashanti. The two clearly still loved each other. Whenever Curtis got around his woman, he felt the urge to throw her against the wall and spread her legs.

  “You lookin’ good right now, Ashanti.”

  “Don’t I fuckin’ always?”

  “Yeah, but you lookin’ somethin’ extra right now.” Curtis approached her.

  “You tryin’ to fuck? You tryin’ to deliver something more than cash to me?”

  Curtis took Ashanti by her hands and pulled her into his arms. The taste for her showed in his eyes. He slipped his arms around her sensuous curves and took in her sweet, alluring fragrance. Chanel No. 5 filled his nostrils.

  Ashanti wanted to purr in his grasp. Curtis always had that effect on her. No matter how many miles away he was, when it came to sexing, Curtis had her open.

  “It’s been a while, baby. You miss it?” she whispered in his ear.

  “Every day.”

  Slowly, he bent her over the dining room table and pulled down her leggings to her ankles. She had no panties on. Her pussy started to pulsate for his penetration.

  Curtis quickly unbuckled his pants and dropped them to the floor. He cupped Ashanti’s tits and neared his dick to her goodies. He eased his dick into her and let out a pleasing moan, feeling her warm juices from her tunnel tickle him. Their bodies became electric as he fucked her from the back.

  Ashanti curved over the dining room table with her legs spread into a downward V, feeling Curtis place a strong grip around her slender neck and taking hold of her waist with his other grip. He rammed her sensuous tunnel with zeal.

  “Fuck me, baby,” Ashanti cried out.

  Curtis aimed to please the mother to his three kids. They took their passionate act into the bedroom, where Curtis had her body contorted under the sheets. They clasped hands as he ground himself deeply into her rich opening, with Ashanti’s moans bouncing off the bedroom walls.

  In next to no time, they rested against each other in a tight embrace, both pleased with each other’s performance. Despite their separation from each other, they pretended to be exclusive, neither one confessing their infidelity. It was evident on Curtis’ face and in his actions that he was truly in love with her.

  Ashanti lifted her head from Curtis’ sweaty chest and reached for her pack of Newports on the end table near the bed. She lit a cigarette and took a deep pull.

  The two were silent for the moment. Curtis closed his eyes for a moment and took in the tranquility in his her room. The sounds of Harlem seeped into the bedroom, making it the only noise in the room to disturb the stillness. The bedroom felt like a safe haven from the trouble outside.

  Ashanti took a few more pulls from the cigarette and then turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of Curtis, whose muscular upper torso gleamed with sweat. He looked relaxed.

  Ashanti, her naked frame perched at the end of the bed, had the gaze of a person with something on her mind. She sighed. “You know Alonzo is coming up in the game. Your friend just made a serious come-up off some Haitians in Brooklyn. He ain’t scared to make moves. That nigga sees what he wants and takes that shit. He’s doing his thang.”

  “Alonzo? When you saw him?”

  “He be around Harlem, and he was lookin’ fresh. I saw him driving around in a new Bentley down One Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Street. That nigga had them bitches’ pussy leaking when he stepped out that nice-ass Bentley coupe. You shoulda seen the look on muthafuckas’ faces. Alonzo ain’t playing. I can’t front. That nigga’s ambitious. He’s doing it lovely.”

  Hearing Ashanti speak about his longtime Dominican friend so highly put a slight scowl on Curtis’ face. Alonzo and him came up together, along with Maino. They once were like the three amigos. They had street dreams and put their dreams into action.

  Alonzo was handsome with his boyish looks, hazel eyes, and trimmed goatee. He had a stable of bitches willing to work and please him in any fashion. Though his stature was slim, he was able to hustle and kill like the best of them.

  Alonzo’s family was connected, and he used that connection to advance himself in the drug trade. Curtis and Maino were once his partners, but over time, he became their connect. They’d remained friends and trusted ea
ch other, to some extent.

  Ashanti continued to glorify Alonzo to Curtis, not realizing that the details had him burning with fury. Curtis remained silent.

  “He asked about you.”

  “What the fuck you tell him?”

  “I don’t speak your business, baby. You do your business with him, and I respect that. I know that’s your longtime friend, but I ain’t tryin’ to tell your business out there. But you know what? Alonzo has that and then some, and maybe the table needs to turn, and it should be the other way around. You’re smart, baby—really smart. Alonzo should have been the one copping from you, not the other way around. Shit, you know the only reason he came up the way he did was because of his uncle. You need to come up stronger, Curtis, and get yours.”

  Curtis didn’t reply. The way Ashanti spoke so highly of his friend had brought on suspicion. He came to the realization that Alonzo was fucking her. Alonzo was known to sleep around and fuck with men’s wives, sisters, mothers, and daughters. It didn’t matter a woman’s status or his friendship with the husbands and family members. He had no limitations on who he put his dick in. Alonzo took whoremonger to a whole new level. When it came to sex, he didn’t have any moral obligations. And he loved money just as much as he loved pussy, and Curtis knew this about him.

  Ashanti added, “Baby, you need to get grimier out here with these niggas.”

  “You sayin’ I’m slippin?”

  “Shit, niggas know not to fuck wit’ him, especially after goin’ after the Haitians for a sweet score. Alonzo definitely can get ugly with it.”

  “And what the fuck are we to you? Mickey Mouse or somethin’? You forget who the fuck I am?”

  “I mean, you and Maino, y’all do ya thang, fucked a few niggas up and caught some bodies back in the days, but you ain’t gettin’ extreme wit’ it like how y’all used to be back in the days. You still get money, but why the fuck is Alonzo pushing a Bentley coupe, and you ain’t? I want extra, Curtis, and for you to make that shit happen, baby, you gotta get ugly with it. Let these muthafuckas know you still ain’t nobody to fuck with. Yeah, you got your rep, these niggas out here respect you and Maino, but I need my house in Miami. You know how I feel about that.”