Page 4 of Honey Sugar
She angled her body toward me. Her hands rested on slender hips while her smile invited me to probe. Probably in more ways than one. “I know a good bar. Y’all only want to turn up with liquor though? That shit is weak.” I made sure to exaggerate my drawl when I pinned Miss Blue Eyes with my stare. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and swayed a little, moving closer to me.
She smelled like what my family calledoutside.
“Well, we’re definitely open,” Miss Blue Eyes purred.
“Oh yeah? I got a little something on me but it’s high-grade shit and I can’t let it go for anything less than two-hundred.”
“Done. What is it? Molly?” She bounced on the balls of her feet and shoved her grinning face close to mine. I felt around in my pocket and pulled out a bag of bright pink pills. Perfect for three girls looking to have fun. They’d see the loud color and go all in.
“Pure Molly. This shit will have you fucked up if you don’t dose it right. I don’t want anything happening to you beautiful ladies. You sure you want to take that kind of trip?”
“Oh, absolutely. We came to Nawlins to party!” She squeaked with a horrible contrived accent. I lifted my eyebrows when she said Nawlins and wondered if she knew how ridiculous she sounded. “Can we get two bag thingies? We have more friends meeting us later.”
“Oh yeah. I got you,” I smiled and pulled out another bag. I made a $400.00 sale like that.
My night continued on the same trend for sale after sale. I moved up and down the block pushing bumpers to all the pretty ladies because none of them could resist a tall, dark, handsome New Orleans boy with the gift of a silver tongue and a killer smile. My pull was magnetic even through the plastic Mardi Gras mask I used to over the top half of my face.
While I weaved my way through the boisterous crowds on Bourbon Street, I heard a few complaints in passing about Bear being pissed that people were selling bumpers. I knew that meant it was time for me to pack the fuck up and head back to Mario’s car. I wasn’t pressing my luck.
Selling bumpers made it bad for real dealers because once word got out amongst the customers, they didn’t trust anyone even the legit pushers. That meant they didn’t buy from anyone. It slowed down money for Bear and that meant someone was going to get killed soon.
I adjusted my mask and moved through the streets until I found a quiet spot tucked behind a building in an alley. I checked my pockets to make sure I was done selling for the night, then I pulled out my wad of money to make sure nobody pickpocketed me while I was on the move. It was easy to do when you were rubbing arms and elbows, wading through crowds.
“Yo! You pushing bumpers?” I heard a deep voice call out from the shadows. My head jerked to the side and I shoved the wad of money back in my pocket.
“Nah, man. I’m not selling anything,” I said, shaking my head. My hand slid behind my back until I felt my fingers connect with the handle of my 9mm. I wasn’t a killer but I was determined to protect myself no matter what.
“People out there on Bourbon said some skinny motherfucker in a mask was selling bumpers. Sounds a lot like you.” I stared into a pair of dark eyes that radiated hate and fear at the same time.
I wasn’t making it out of the alley alive.
“I told you, I wasn’t selling shit. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I slipped the safety off my gun and slid back.
“Empty your fucking pockets before I kill you right here.” His face was covered by murky shadows and his voice was partially muffled by the surrounding music and laughter. Nobody would hear the gunshot he planned to let off.
He knew it.
I knew it too.
My chest sank in with a deep sigh as I pretended to pull out the contents of my pockets. Instead, I pulled my pistol and let it bark in the air. Nobody would hear the gunshot.
He knew it.
I knew it too.
His body fell heavy and lifeless to the ground. My bullet ripped through his skull and suddenly everything was quiet. Everything but the ringing in my ears like alarms waking up the fight or flight response buried in my psyche.
My feet started moving before my brain could catch up. I bolted down the alley and didn’t stop running until I reached Mario’s car. I snatched the mask off my face and shed the jacket I’d been wearing all night. I didn’t know what kind of blood splatter flew back on that jacket.
My heart was an erratic song with no cohesive melody. My hand trembled as the weight of my gun sank into my palm. Shit. Why was I still holding it? I tucked it away in my waistband. The hot steel heated my back instantly. A reminder of what I’d just done.
Mario wasn’t coming back to his car any time soon and I had to get the fuck out of there. I couldn’t text him and tell him what happened. I didn’t trust him enough to divulge something so heavy and dark.
I couldn’t risk leaving any evidence or DNA in the back of an Uber or Lyft either. The only things I had that wouldn’t fail me were my feet. So I pushed those motherfuckers all the way to the hospital my mother worked in.
Nobody else knew what I’d done so to everyone else I looked like a normal person walking through the hospital. Inside, I felt like a heinous monster. There was no way to convince me everyone who passed by couldn’t see the grotesque horns and fangs jutting out of me.
“Titan?” Mama’s voice reached out like a hand pulling me from a swirling vortex of blackness. She took one look at me and yanked me out of the hall and into a vacant room. The soft click of the door closing and locking jolted me out of shock. I blinked once. Twice. Three times.
