hotel, I went straight
to Casey’s and passed out. I woke up around 2:00 p.m. the next day. I had a
couple messages on my phone from Casey and my attorney. Casey was letting me
know her flight was still on schedule. My attorney wanted me to give him a
call. I did.
He sounded like he was
in a good mood when he answered. That put me at ease. He told me he had the
tape from Red Roof Inn. It showed I was there from 9:45 p.m. until 11:20 p.m.
Tamika’s car hit the light pole at 10:24 p.m. I was relieved. He also told me
Tamika was never pregnant. Bitch!
Despite all that, my
attorney said Kremensky was still investigating me. He said they didn’t have
any evidence to charge me, and if Kremensky continued to harass me, he’d file a
lawsuit.
I thanked him and hung
up. I went and showered, got myself together and chilled after that. I stayed
at Casey’s until it was time to go her and Sparkle from the airport.
***
I’d been waiting for Casey and Sparkle
to exit the airport. They finally did. Casey was looking sexy as ever in a cowl
neck halter dress, but Sparkle looked even sexier in a metallic bustier and a
tight— real tight —miniskirt. I had forgotten Sparkle was mixed with
something. Her hair was long and her walk was strong. She had a compact body to
kill for. I hopped out to help them with their bags.
“Hey, baby,” Casey
said, giving me a hug.
“What’s good?” I said.
Sparkle stood to the
side, waiting to be introduced.
“You remember Sparkle,
don’t you?” Casey looked in Sparkle’s direction.
“How can I forget?” I
flirted, extending my hand, smiling.
Casey smacked my
shoulder. “Boy, quit playin’.”
“How are you doin’, Spade?”
Sparkle said, letting her hand slip away from mine.
“I’m good. So how was
it in the M.I.A.?” I asked them both, as I hoisted their bags up and into the
trunk.
“It was coo’,” Casey
said.
“Yeah. We had a ball,”
Sparkle added.
Soon we were on the
move, headed to Casey’s. We got there an hour later. They unloaded their bags
and I got comfortable in the living room and watched TV. Sparkle was the first
downstairs.
“So, Mr. Spade, how
have you been?” she asked, sitting on the couch.
“I’m maintaining,” I said.
“How ‘bout yourself?”
“I’m doin’ well for
myself. I’ve been living in Miami for about seven years. But I’m always in and
out of Kansas City.”
“When was the last time
you was in the town?” I was trying to avoid looking at her sexy frame.
“A few days ago. Before
me and Casey went back to Miami.”
Casey didn’t mention
that. I was lost.
“Straight up?” I
changed the subject. “If you don’t mind me asking, Where did you go when we
were kids?”
She didn’t mind telling
me. She went right in, told me her mother was Russian and her father was Black.
I remembered her mother was a different nationality, just didn’t know what. And
I used to see her pops in the ‘hood from time to time. Him and OG Casa were
real close. They damn near looked like brothers.
Sparkle said one day
she was at school some niggas from another ‘hood—niggas her father sold dope
to—broke in their house. They robbed her pops, then killed him. And her moms.
She said after that she moved to Russia with her mother’s side of the family.
She said her Russian uncles were who her father got his guns and drugs from.
They murdered everybody who was involved in her parent’s death.
She also said while she
stayed with them, they taught her how to kill in many ways. I didn’t believe
her, but the look on her face—and her body language—convinced me. Casey walked
downstairs.
“What yall talkin’
‘bout?” Casey sat next to me. I could smell her bodywash.
“I’m just catchin’ up
wit’ Spade,” said Sparkle.
I was intrigued by
Sparkle. She seemed strong and confident. Not affected by her parents death. A
kind of calmness only revenge would give someone.
“Is that a’ight wit’
you?” I joked with
to Casey’s and passed out. I woke up around 2:00 p.m. the next day. I had a
couple messages on my phone from Casey and my attorney. Casey was letting me
know her flight was still on schedule. My attorney wanted me to give him a
call. I did.
He sounded like he was
in a good mood when he answered. That put me at ease. He told me he had the
tape from Red Roof Inn. It showed I was there from 9:45 p.m. until 11:20 p.m.
Tamika’s car hit the light pole at 10:24 p.m. I was relieved. He also told me
Tamika was never pregnant. Bitch!
Despite all that, my
attorney said Kremensky was still investigating me. He said they didn’t have
any evidence to charge me, and if Kremensky continued to harass me, he’d file a
lawsuit.
I thanked him and hung
up. I went and showered, got myself together and chilled after that. I stayed
at Casey’s until it was time to go her and Sparkle from the airport.
***
I’d been waiting for Casey and Sparkle
to exit the airport. They finally did. Casey was looking sexy as ever in a cowl
neck halter dress, but Sparkle looked even sexier in a metallic bustier and a
tight— real tight —miniskirt. I had forgotten Sparkle was mixed with
something. Her hair was long and her walk was strong. She had a compact body to
kill for. I hopped out to help them with their bags.
“Hey, baby,” Casey
said, giving me a hug.
“What’s good?” I said.
Sparkle stood to the
side, waiting to be introduced.
“You remember Sparkle,
don’t you?” Casey looked in Sparkle’s direction.
“How can I forget?” I
flirted, extending my hand, smiling.
Casey smacked my
shoulder. “Boy, quit playin’.”
“How are you doin’, Spade?”
Sparkle said, letting her hand slip away from mine.
“I’m good. So how was
it in the M.I.A.?” I asked them both, as I hoisted their bags up and into the
trunk.
“It was coo’,” Casey
said.
“Yeah. We had a ball,”
Sparkle added.
Soon we were on the
move, headed to Casey’s. We got there an hour later. They unloaded their bags
and I got comfortable in the living room and watched TV. Sparkle was the first
downstairs.
“So, Mr. Spade, how
have you been?” she asked, sitting on the couch.
“I’m maintaining,” I said.
“How ‘bout yourself?”
“I’m doin’ well for
myself. I’ve been living in Miami for about seven years. But I’m always in and
out of Kansas City.”
“When was the last time
you was in the town?” I was trying to avoid looking at her sexy frame.
“A few days ago. Before
me and Casey went back to Miami.”
Casey didn’t mention
that. I was lost.
“Straight up?” I
changed the subject. “If you don’t mind me asking, Where did you go when we
were kids?”
She didn’t mind telling
me. She went right in, told me her mother was Russian and her father was Black.
I remembered her mother was a different nationality, just didn’t know what. And
I used to see her pops in the ‘hood from time to time. Him and OG Casa were
real close. They damn near looked like brothers.
Sparkle said one day
she was at school some niggas from another ‘hood—niggas her father sold dope
to—broke in their house. They robbed her pops, then killed him. And her moms.
She said after that she moved to Russia with her mother’s side of the family.
She said her Russian uncles were who her father got his guns and drugs from.
They murdered everybody who was involved in her parent’s death.
She also said while she
stayed with them, they taught her how to kill in many ways. I didn’t believe
her, but the look on her face—and her body language—convinced me. Casey walked
downstairs.
“What yall talkin’
‘bout?” Casey sat next to me. I could smell her bodywash.
“I’m just catchin’ up
wit’ Spade,” said Sparkle.
I was intrigued by
Sparkle. She seemed strong and confident. Not affected by her parents death. A
kind of calmness only revenge would give someone.
“Is that a’ight wit’
you?” I joked with
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