Jewel used to be content with being a ride or die chick, playing Bonnie while the men in her life played Clyde. But now she realizes that it was her connections and street smarts that helped her man, Calico, rise to the top, and Jewel wants to be the one in control. She's tired of taking orders from men.
She's willing to do anything to be queen of the streets, but when a deal she makes with the enemy comes back to haunt her, her dream is turned into a nightmare. Hopeless and struggling to keep her head above water, Jewel meets Misty, who seems to be her savior. They quickly form a bond, but when that bond is broken and the mist turns to rain, Jewel finds herself in the middle of a storm that she might not make it out of.
Produced by Buck 50 Productions
Release date:
November 24, 2009
Publisher:
Urban Books
Print pages:
288
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Click-click. I put a single bullet in the head of my chrome .22-caliber handgun, put on the safety, and then placed it in my purse. I clutched my purse and folded my arms to fight off the frigid winter air as I rushed toward Club Encore in an attempt to beat the crowd.
To my surprise, once I reached the front I was met by a swarm of people. It was pure pandemonium as I made my way toward the entrance. Noticing the attention of the crowd focused on a car entering the parking lot, I paused just long enough to get a glimpse of what was so interesting.
“Look at this bitch,” I said, rolling my eyes when I realized it was Jewel and Touch pulling into the club parking lot. I screwed up my face, showing full disgust. My blood was boiling as I watched them step out of their Maybach and onto the red carpet like they were the fucking king and queen of England. From the telltale red bottom of her shoes, I knew Jewel had on none other than Christian Louboutin.
Touch wore a suit, and I’m sure it was top of the line as well. I had to admit, he looked sexy as hell in it.
Suddenly, a flashback of the night we fucked consumed me. It was like I could feel his hands gripping my ass as he forced himself deep inside me. Damn. For a moment I felt my panties becoming a little moist from the combination of seeing him and reminiscing.
“Excuse me.”
My moment of admiration was broken by a ghetto chick who bumped into me, pushing along with the crowd in a desperate attempt to get into the packed club. Under normal circumstances, I would have let this bitch have it, but this night I had more pressing issues, so that bitch got a pass.
I burned with envy as Touch and his bitch headed toward the entrance. I should have been his trophy wife, the queen beside him on the throne. All around them stood crowds of people calling and reaching out to them like the fucking paparazzi, while others just stood in awe like peasants, wishing they could have one moment in their shoes. No matter which crowd they were classified in, the people still went unnoticed by “the royal couple,” as security guards forced people out of their way to open a clear path for Jewel and Touch to enter the club. The shit was so sickening.
Realizing I was amongst this crowd of peasants and paparazzi, I inched my way toward the front of the line, which wrapped around the building.
“Excuse me, sweetie.” I poked out my small but perky 34B breasts and called out to one of the bouncers who guarded the front door of the club, giving him my most seductive look. This fat-ass, baldhead, clean–looking dude just glanced at me and then turned his head. Muthafucka! I couldn’t believe this guy.
Still determined to get in, I dug into my purse, bypassing my gun, and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. One thing I knew for sure is that money talks. This time I didn’t even bother calling out to him. I just walked toward the entrance as though I were part of the royal court.
The same bouncer said to me, “This is VIP, ma’am. Are you on the list?”
“Yes, I am,” I said, sliding the money into his hand. Moments later, I was walking through the door with no search and no hassle.
I stood in awe as I entered the club. I couldn’t believe the sight before me. Although I hated to admit it, Jewel and Touch were really on some celebrity shit. They had definitely taken things to the next level in VA. Well, at least Jewel will have a hell of a farewell party, I thought as I walked through the tight crowd, knowing I planned to make this night her last.
I watched the time as I made my way toward the VIP area. It was 11:15. I had forty-five minutes to make it to the back, where Touch and Jewel were partying. I wanted to be sure I was there to bring Jewel’s new year in with a bang—literally. The crowd was going crazy to Busta Rhymes’ “Arab Money” when I reached the bar. I purchased a glass of Nuvo and took it to the head to ease my nerves. Then, as an added prop, I bought a bottle of Ace of Spades, to look as though I belonged in the VIP area.
I knew it would be even harder getting past the security guard at the VIP section. There, niggas passed a hundred dollars all night to get in, so I wasn’t sure that was going to fly this go-’round. After fighting a crowd of groupies, I finally made it to the entrance of the VIP. The time was now thirty minutes to midnight, so I needed to get in fast.
“Excuse me, hon,” I said to the security guard to get his attention.
“Malibu?” He called me by my dance name, causing me to take a closer look at him.
This must be my lucky day. This gotta be a sign that the new year is gonna be my year. I let out a sigh of relief, realizing this guy was a bouncer at a club I used to dance at. I always felt dancing got me nowhere, and nothing but a few fast dollars, but this was one time it was an actual benefit.
“Hey, boo. How you been?” I gently caressed his arm as I spoke. “I’m trying to get back there and celebrate with my girl, Jewel. I just flew in from Atlanta, and I want to surprise her. I just bought this bottle, so we can pop it and bring in the new year together.” I put on my best game, all the while flaunting my breasts and putting on a few flirtatious gestures.
The security guard stepped back and unhooked the velvet rope, allowing me to go through.
I headed toward the back of the VIP area and found a quiet spot in the cut, where I could go unnoticed. There I spotted a sexy chocolate dude who screamed the signs of money. Everything, from his designer labels to his blinding diamonds, said, “I am that nigga.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off his blinding, iced-out watch. If for nothing else but the diamonds, I had to have that nigga. I could picture him naked with nothing but jewelry—chocolate and diamonds, two of my favorites. I also noticed he stood alone. Since I had a few minutes to spare, I used this as an opportunity to possibly get to know him better.
“Hey, sexy,” I said. “You look like you need some company.”
“Oh yeah?” He looked my body up and down like he had X-ray vision and could see right through my Betsey Johnson dress.
“Yeah,” I said with my sassiest attitude, rolling my neck.
“I’m kind of busy right now, but we can exchange numbers and get up a little later.” He pulled out his cell phone, and I did the same.
“What’s your name?”
“Calico,” he said, and then began to read off his number.
“Calico?” I took a deep swallow, hoping I’d heard him incorrectly.
He spelled his name out to me, “C-a-l-i-c-o,” confirming I’d heard him correctly.
His response floored me. My heart raced, and my breathing picked up. I tried all I could to keep my composure and to keep my shaking hand steady as I entered my number in his phone. I used the name Malibu to protect my true identity.
“Okay, baby, I’ll be hitting you up. Enjoy your night, and Happy New Year.” I tried to play it cool. I excused myself and rushed out of the VIP and headed to the bathroom. There I gathered myself. Oh my God. My brain was racing and I could see my chest moving up and down as I inhaled and exhaled. I didn’t have asthma, but I surely felt like I was about to have a damn asthma attack.
As soon as Calico said his name, although I’d never seen him face to face, I knew exactly who he was. He was the same Calico that Jewel used to fuck with, the same Calico that I stole one hundred thousand dollars from months earlier. The most frightening part was, I didn’t know if he knew who I was, and if he knew I had stolen his money. I didn’t know if Jewel had put the blame on me, or exactly what she’d told him about his missing money.
I looked at my watch, and it was now five minutes to twelve. Regardless of what happened, I was at the club on a mission, and I planned to complete it. So, I pulled myself together. I took a moment to look into the mirror, applied some much-needed lip-gloss, fixed my hair then headed back to the VIP area.
Just as I got through the rope, the countdown to midnight began. I spotted Jewel and prepared to give her that long-awaited gift as I rushed in her direction.
The countdown ended, and the crowd yelled, “Happy New Year!” Everyone went wild, as money dropped from the ceiling.
I watched as Touch stood on his throne, throwing champagne over a crowd of groupies. They looked like scavengers as they dove for the dollars that fell around them. Others just looked on in envy.
No one even noticed me as I took my time inching closer and closer toward Jewel. When I came within a couple feet of her, I tiptoed my way directly behind her. With fire in my eyes, I took a deep breath then delivered. Bam! One to the back of her head and she was down.
Simultaneously, I heard a deafening boom. Frightened, I turned around to see a fearless Calico standing with a smoking gun in his hand and the same fire I had in my eyes moments earlier. People scattered in every direction, screaming.
“He’s got a gun!”
“Get down!”
“Where’s Kita Boo and Tynika?”
Within moments, the crowded VIP area was clear, and all I could see was two lifeless bodies on the floor. One belonged to Touch, and not far from him lay Jewel. I knew who was responsible for Jewel’s downfall, and the sight of her actually brought a proud smile across my face. Now, Touch was a different story. I didn’t see him get shot, but I damn sure saw the smoking gun.
Luckily for Jewel, I’d decided to deliver a bottle to her head, instead of a bullet. Her man wasn’t as lucky, though. Although I’d shared the same fire in my eyes as Calico, I didn’t have the same balls. Gunshots in a packed club on New Year’s Eve could only lead to jail. Too many eyewitnesses. Hell, I wasn’t no career murderer, but I at least knew that shit.
Frantic, I rushed out of VIP, nearly knocking over the security guard on my way. I ran out the side door of the club to get to my car and get the fuck out of dodge. Moments later, I was in my car, peeling out of the parking lot, running over the curb and nearly tearing out the whole bottom of my car.
I sped down Virginia Beach Boulevard toward the interstate, passing six cop cars headed in the opposite direction. I knew exactly where they were going, and I was relieved to know I’d broken out in just enough time.
It wasn’t until I reached my hotel room that I felt safe. I kicked off my heels and flopped across the bed. Thanks to Calico drawing so much attention to himself, I was confident that I’d gotten away with murder. He’d set things up perfectly. Any onlookers would be convinced that he was responsible for Jewel and Touch’s deaths.
“Damn! What a fucking night,” I said to myself as I got comfortable under the blanket and reflected on the multitude of events that had taken place in such a short period.
I couldn’t believe I’d actually witnessed Touch getting shot, or even worse, that I’d run into Calico. I pulled out my phone and flipped to his number. Initially I’d planned to erase it. I wasn’t sure to what use I could put the number of a crazed murderer, but something in me said not quite yet. One thing was for sure: I had no plans on getting up with him. I had no intention of calling him and no intention of answering any of his calls. This was a dude that possibly killed a man by gunfire in front of an entire club and didn’t give a fuck. I could only imagine what he would do to me if he knew I stole his money. I knew I had to get out of Virginia and back to Atlanta ASAP, but not before I got some much-needed rest.
At first I had a little trouble falling asleep, not because I’d hit Jewel in the head with the bottle, but because I wasn’t quite sure if Calico would figure out who I was and come after me next. After an hour of tossing and turning, I finally dozed off to sleep.
The next morning, I was awakened by the sound of a ringing phone.
“Hello,” I answered in a cracked morning voice.
“Sasha Williams?”
“Yes.”
“This is the front desk. It’s now twelve o’clock and past checkout. Will you be staying another day?”
“No. I’m leaving now.” I hung up before the lady on the other end could respond.
I grabbed the remote from the nightstand and turned on the tele. . .
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