Читать книгу Baltimore Chronicles Volume 2 - Treasure Hernandez - Страница 7

Tiphani sat across from Scar and picked up her martini glass again. She was finally feeling a buzz. She still couldn’t believe she was on a yacht, sailing off the coast of Florida toward the Caribbean. Scar sat across from her on a long black leather bench that was built into the yacht’s upper deck wall. Tiphani stared at him with hazy eyes. She thought Scar looked hella sexy, rocking his Hermes boat shoes, a wife-beater that hugged his muscular chest, and a Gucci fedora sitting on top of his big head. She had conditioned herself to look past his ugly-ass scarred grill; his swagger was enough for her. It was more than her husband ever had.

Tiphani looked down at the feast set out in front of them. The table was full of all kinds of food prepared by Scar’s own personal chef. There were lobster tails, huge freshly steamed shrimp surrounded by cocktail sauce, rich, leafy salads, tropical fruits, and the most expensive beluga caviar money could buy. Despite all of it, Tiphani hadn’t touched a bite.

“Why you not eating?” Scar asked her, picking up one of the huge prawns, ready to throw it back.

“I’m not really that hungry,” Tiphani said in a low tone, swirling her liquor around in her glass. She wasn’t interested in the food, Scar, or anything on the yacht at this point. She was missing her kids and having second thoughts.

“Shit speak for yourself.” Scar wasted no time digging into the food he’d paid a grip to have his chef cook up.

Tiphani took another sip of her drink. She ran her fingers through her long, jet-black hair, like she usually did when deep in thought. The sun was beginning to set, and her mood was continuing to go down right along with it. The sea breeze kissed her beautiful face and whipped around her perfect, shapely legs. Between the dreamy scene—the sunset, the ocean, the ritzy yacht?and the buzz she was feeling, Tiphani was mesmerized. Flashes of her kids’ faces played in her mind. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d done the right thing by letting Scar stage her kidnapping.

When Scar’s little henchmen had snatched her from in front of her home, they had blindfolded her and put her in a van. Tiphani, not knowing it was a set-up, had fought ferociously, clawing hunks of skin from one of their faces, kicking and biting wildly. Scar had instructed them not to hurt a hair on her head, but she didn’t make it easy, cursing, spitting, and bucking like a wild animal.

After she had finally worn herself out and sat still for five minutes, Scar’s men tried to explain to her what was going on, but she wouldn’t hear anything from them. In her mind she had been thrust into a fight to save her own life. Only after they’d told her what Scar had instructed them to say did she listen. She was informed that Scar had ordered the fake kidnapping, just in case neighbors or any other witnesses had been watching, and that there was a reason for everything. They also told her that Scar just really wanted her to meet with him and lay low for a while.

With all of the commotion, Tiphani was trying to make sense of it all. To her it seemed to be a bit much. She thought he could’ve just told her to come and disappear with him without all of the theatrics, but she figured Scar knew what he was doing. They explained that Scar knew when she didn’t show up for her kids, her disappearance would be reported, and everyone would think she was missing. Scar had staged the kidnapping because he wanted it to seem like she was snatched, that it had something to do with her husband’s dirty dealings.

After getting wind of the meeting between his brother Derek and his old crew member Flip, it wasn’t lost on Scar that Flip had probably revealed a bunch of shit that could send Scar to prison for a long time. Which was why he had to shut Flip up permanently. He’d ordered the hit to take place publicly, to send a message to anyone else who had an idea to “flip” on Scar and the Dirty Money Crew. The execution outside of the hotel definitely got everyone’s attention. Word spread instantly about the fate of Flip, the snitch. Scar also knew that his brother Derek would be looking for a way to defend himself against all the charges thrown his way, which meant Derek would also be gunning for him. He knew it wouldn’t be that long before the beast amassed enough evidence to finally make the charges stick.

Tiphani had protested Scar’s staged kidnapping for the first couple of days, pouting and begging to go home to her kids. She was having trouble understanding the reasoning and desperately missed her kids. Knowing Scar was dangerous, she didn’t push the issue as much as she wanted to. So, even though her kidnapping was supposed to be fake, she really did feel like she’d been kidnapped and was being held against her will.

Legally, she didn’t think her disappearance would bring any value to the case against Derek, and she knew her kids were at risk of being forced into the foster care system in her absence. She’d even thought about Derek winning their custody battle, if he ever beat his case.

But Tiphani’s protests and pleas fell on deaf ears. Scar used his charm and his dick to convince her that this staged kidnapping was the only way to put another brick in the wall against Derek. Ultimately, the dick had finally made Tiphani give in to Scar’s plan. When his goons delivered Tiphani to Scar, he grabbed her and hugged her tightly. He was still playing the role of concerned lover, even though he just wanted to keep her close and keep an eye on her.

Staging the kidnap worked to Scar’s advantage in two ways. One, he could make it look like Derek had something to do with it, and two, he could control Tiphani, while getting some of that tasty pussy.

After his welcoming hug, he led her down the pier, toward a line of huge yachts. Tiphani was confused, looking around in disbelief. She kept walking with Scar until he stopped in front of one of the massive boats. She read the hand-painted sign on the back of the yacht. It read “DIRTY MONEY.” She looked up at Scar with furrowed eyebrows.

“I ain’t gonna fake kidnap you and keep you in my basement, baby,” Scar had said, smiling. He led her up the dock ramp into the boat.

Tiphani remembered her heart skipping a beat. She had quickly forgotten about her reservations about staging her own kidnapping. Scar welcomed her onto the regal boat. Inside Tiphani looked around in awe. It looked like a house. He led her into the fully furnished suite, which made her gasp. All of the furniture was pure white, and it immediately made Tiphani think about the way she envisioned Heaven. There was a California king-sized bed, leather couches, plasma TVs, expensive throw rugs, mirrored walls and ceilings, and a Jacuzzi.

Tiphani was overwhelmed by the yacht. The luxuriousness made it feel like all of her worries had dissipated right then and there. She couldn’t contain herself and had to let Scar fuck her right there on the spot.

After two days on the yacht, Scar thought it was time to put Tiphani onto his full plan and get her to buy in. When he told her they’d be gone for six months or longer, she cried, thinking about her kids. Scar’s plan was for her to go back to Baltimore, act as if she had been kidnapped because of Derek, and fake like she had fought to make a daring escape. Scar told her she could sell her story to every news program—20/20; Dateline; CNN; Anderson Cooper. Shit, even Oprah. They would all be fighting to cover the highly publicized reunion with her kids.

Knowing the law, Tiphani didn’t think getting her kids back would be that easy. She figured there would be suspicion that she’d abandoned them and made up her story, which worried her immensely. She didn’t think the whole thing was a good idea.

Scar reassured her he would pay whoever he had to pay to have her kids returned to her. He also told her she should always say that her captors kept mentioning her husband, and money he owed them. If she stuck to the story, it would make it seem as if Derek was the cause of her disappearance because he had been robbing drug dealers and selling drugs too.

The best part of the plan was, while she rode the wave of fame and notoriety, she would jump out of the box and announce her bid to run for circuit court judge. Scar told her that he had it all mapped out, and she would definitely win. In his grand scheme, Tiphani would be the one that would save him from all of the charges pending against him once and for all. A lot of pockets would be laced so that she would be appointed as the judge on his case when he finally turned himself in.

Being the driven, power-hungry career woman she was, at first Tiphani thought the plan was brilliant. She could sacrifice a few months without her kids for a greater career move. In her mind, becoming a judge would be great for all of them. But she didn’t know Scar would never really be loyal to anyone, not even her.

Today, sitting on a yacht with a dangerous drug dealer, Tiphani was having second thoughts. The what-ifs had set in on her, and she sat, preoccupied with thoughts of all of the things that could go wrong—one of which was, she could be thrown in jail for fabricating a story so elaborate and would lose her children forever if anyone ever found out the truth.

“Damn! You been daydreaming for a minute,” Scar said, breaking up her thoughts.

Tiphani let a weak smile spread across her face.

Scar could see the second thoughts and doubt in her eyes. “I hope you dreaming about me and this pussy-pounding I’m about to put on you.” He grabbed his dick through his pants.

Tiphani smiled just thinking about that good-ass dick.

When Scar saw her smile, he knew he had her again. He didn’t care if he had to fuck her every minute of every day to keep her on course with his plan. He was going to do whatever it took to keep this bitch in line. Scar thought of Tiphani as the “queen of sorts.” He saw her as one of the most powerful pieces in his game of chess against Derek and the Maryland State Troopers that had tried to destroy everything he had worked to build.

Before she knew it, Scar had swooped down on her like an eagle snatching up a little mouse as prey. The next thing she knew, Scar was carrying her like a little rag doll down the yacht steps to the lower deck. Once there, he reached under her dress and ripped her thong off with one forceful motion.

Tiphani began breathing hard, and a hot feeling came over her. She loved Scar’s spontaneity. Nothing was all planned and boring, like with Derek. She giggled, the liquor tingling her senses. Scar forced his tongue into her mouth, she accepted, and they kissed wildly. Tiphani’s cheeks were on fire. The heat their bodies generated was enough to cook something.

Scar pulled off his Ralph Lauren purple label shorts, freeing his beautiful, thick dick. Then he ripped his wife-beater over his head, exposing his chest, adorned by a diamond-encrusted Jesus piece. The platinum up against his ebony skin was sexy as hell. Tiphani licked her lips as he climbed on top of her. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled his scent. It was intoxicating. She felt like she was really falling in love with him.

Scar hoisted her sundress up and buried his face in her sopping wet pussy. He blew his hot breath on her clitoris and devoured her pussy until she was dizzy. Then he moved up, took a mouthful of her firm breasts into his mouth, and slammed his dick up in her like a bulldozer. Over and over again, Scar pounded into her flesh. Tiphani dug her nails into his back as he continued his mission. He rammed her with all his might and fucked her back into submission.

Tiphani accepted each of his thrusts for as long as she could. “Oh God!” she screamed, and then she came all over his dick.

Then Scar followed her, letting his juices saturate her neatly shaved triangle. Panting and out of breath, they collapsed in a tangled heap of flesh.

Just then Scar’s cell phone rang. “Damn!” he panted. It was back to business just that fast. Although his ass was on a vacation of sorts, shit in the harsh streets of Baltimore was business as usual.

Scar still had a strong hold on the streets through his Dirty Money Crew, which was thriving and growing in numbers. He had groomed his little niggas well, and they were running shit back home, keeping his pockets laced. Niggas was hungry on the streets, and he was the only nigga offering to feed them, so they all remained loyal to him. Even in his absence, his presence was still felt.

“Speak,” he wolfed into his cell phone. He listened for a minute. Then he sat up and pushed Tiphani away, turning his back toward her. Scar flexed his jaw as he listened intently. He balled up his fist on his free hand and squeezed it so hard, his knuckles looked like they’d bust through his skin. He pursed his lips and spoke. “Well, then kill the nigga. What you even second-guessing it for?” Disconnecting the line, he tossed his cell phone across the room, sending it crashing into the wall.

Tiphani jumped at the sound. “What’s the matter, baby?” she asked, sitting up startled.

Scar ignored her question. He rushed out of the room to get his anger under control. He didn’t want to unleash on Tiphani and risk having her fall out of line.

Tiphani lay back down, still hoping this plan was going to work in their favor.