Page 36 of Dope Boys: Most Wanted
“Why? You don’t even know me for real,” Reign spoke, looking at him.
“Don’t mean shit. A man who puts his hands on a woman ain’t a man. And he needs to be put down just like a bitch with rabies. Shit is simple. That nigga comes around, you call. It’ll be handled.”
Reign looked at him for a long while before slowly turning away. She was searching for some inkling that he was just talking shit like most men did when their motives weren’t pure. Finding none, she curled into herself more. She didn’t say anything else until he pulled under the breezeway and the valet opened her door.
Markus reached on the back seat and handed the hoodie back to her. “Wear it until you get a jacket. You ain’t built for this weather. For real.”
She took it, offering him a set of pursed lips as a thank you. Pulling her buzzing flip phone out of her back pocket she startedinside. Her stomach lurching when she saw Camden’s unsaved number.
Before she could get her greeting out of her mouth the scream from Camden froze her.
“DON’T SAY SHIT REIGN! RUN! THEY’RE IN THE HOTEL!” Camden screamed. “I’M SOR-”
A gunshot fired off ending Camden’s shouting before Javier’s wicked chuckle flowed into her eardrums freezing her being. “When KC brings your ass back you’re going to be laying right next to her stinking body.”
Reign backed out of the lobby, no sign of Markus’ car. With haste she dawned the hoodie and ran for blocks until the bright lights turned dim. Whatever she had in her room be damned. She was starting over again. The reality of that inducing panic in her. Her running came to a halt when she reached Resting Place Motel. The people were unsightly, the building was run down but KC nor any of Javier’s men would expect her to be here. She eased into the tiny lobby, the receptionist didn’t even bother looking up.
“It’s forty-five dollars a night. Cash only.”
She blinked away the tears and removed some money and slid it over. In return she got a key. Room 203. Reign cautiously maneuvered past the drug dealers, prostitutes and fiends up the sticky stairs to the room. Locked and barricaded behind the door she let out a sob that was gutting.
For the next three days, she came and went, barely sleeping, paying by the night, wearing the hoodie and some clothes she got from the hair shop. A cheap compact of foundation that almost matched her skin tone, and constantly looking over her shoulder was like slipping back into hell.
It was just before dawn and Reign was slipping out of the motel. Trying to be undetected by the hustlers holding up the lobby blocking the door. She’d managed to slip past them for thelast three days but today, there seemed to be a target on her. The oversized hoodie, the leggings and the sneakers were all items that made her undetectable. The difference this morning was the hoodie wasn’t pulled over her head covering her face.
“Ay, bright-bright,” one of the hustlers called in reference to her skin tone.
Reign noticed how they talked amongst themselves and pointed to their phone as she quickened to the door.
“I know you hear my man’s talkin’ to you, bitch,” the other gnashed, reaching out and pulling her back by the ponytail and pinned her arms behind her back. “This her?”
“Get the fuck off of me!” she shouted, attempting to wiggle and jolt out of the hold of the tart-smelling hustler. The hustler who initially called her out came over and glared down at her. Oily skin in need of cleaning, clothes tainted with body odor, a sign that he wasn’t the best hustler. If he was, he’d probably be higher up on the totem pole and at least have time to clean his ass regularly. He observed her face and Reign returned the favor. While fear rippled through her body, she held herself steady. “You fuckin’ stink.”
If this was how she was going to be treated, she at least was going to get some things off her chest. The fear keeping her silent was starting to be overpowered by something else she hadn’t experienced.
One back hand across her face stinging in its wake caused her head to whip from one side to another. “Fuck you, bitch,” Reign said, before spitting on him. “Get off of me!”
“There’s a price on your head. To deliver your pretty ass untouched,” the hustler grumbled, wiping the spit from his face. “But you need to learn a fuckin’ lesson first.”
The hustler holding her hostage moved once hearing the snap of his dirty friend’s fingers. The motion gave him the fuel needed to drive Reign’s face into the wall. She saw it coming andlearned how to twist herself to minimize the impact. Sadly, she’d become a professional survivor.
“I told you none of that shit in here!” The man Reign had spoken to nights before to rent her night-by-night room called out from behind the bullet proof glass. He’d been there the whole time, seemingly attempting to mind his business. Apparently, her being rammed into the wall was more than he could stomach.
His shout was just enough distraction for Reign to run away. Face, head, and heart pounding, she ran until she reached the salon. Using her key to slip into the back door. There would be no sleep, just tears as she washed her body in the sink of the staff bathroom. Tired of running and running off fumes, Reign sat on the breakroom couch after covering the marks on her face with the cheap makeup she kept in her locker. She stared at her hands, watching the tears hit them. They were weighted in her sadness.
“It’s me again,” she muttered, pain breaking her voice. “I don’t know how to pray. And I don’t even think I deserve for you to listen to me. But I need some help. So if you’re real, God, I need you. And if you’re not, I guess maybe being dead is better than this.”
“What you meanyou ain’t gon’ make it to the shop in time to get the shipment?” Markus questioned, pushing himself up and out of the guest bedroom. He refused to sleep in his bedroom until the time permitted for him to buy a new bed and mattress. If there weren’t so many other pressing things on his plate, he would have gladly put G out his misery. The dead kid, his cousinsacting as if they were dropped at birth and trying to maintain the territory he did have left G unchecked. Neveah too.
“I mean I’m running late, I need you to go get the shipment. Reign will probably be the first one there,” Nia spoke. Hearing her name made him perk up. “Don’t give her no shit okay? She’s going through enough and doesn’t need your nonsense added.”
“What would make you think I would give her shit?” Markus quizzed.
“Oh, I don’t know, you call her a mute every time you see her and Cyn said something about you putting her in your car. She doesn’t need you and your problematic dick.”
“First of all, fuck Cyn. She should be worried about her own house and her own nigga. Second of all, ain’t nobody trying to fuck that girl. My arm is fucked up, I can barely do half the shit I’m doing. Third of all, my dick ain’t problematic.”
“It ain’t?” Nia challenged. “Every time you get on your good bullshit, it creates problems for me. Leave her alone. She has four clients today. She’s been quieter than usual and I don’t want you triggering her.”
