Page 1 of Giving Him Something He Can Feel

Chapter One

Cartrek

I looked out into the water and shook my head.

I shouldn’t have gave a fuck about what was out there, but I did.

I gave a fuck because it was the burial spot of the only person to ever betray me and actually hurt me.

Probably not a burial spot, but the last place I saw her before she washed ashore with a hole in her head and a message for the agency that sent her.

The news covered that shit for at least six months before they realized that it would get no traction.

Mia was a snake and she died like one. Too bad when she died that day a piece of me died as well.

I stared out into the water for a while longer before I got ready to run off.

“I come out here every so often to remind myself of what we lost. Of what you did.” The voice speaking made me look to the side of me at the familiar face.

“Do you get paid for all this overtime?”

“It’s not overtime, asshole.”

I laughed, wiping the bead of sweat from my forehead. This shit was comical to me.

“I may not have proof, but I know it was you. I know you killed her, and I’m not going to rest until justice is served.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, officer. But if I did, I’d say you got a lot to prove, huh?”

“You’re damn right I do, and I’m going to.”

“But, you know they say without proof cases tend to fall apart. So, good luck with that, detective. I hope you get your man.” With that I squeezed the Air Pod in my ear to resume the playlist and started back jogging.

This was my morning ritual and had been for the last three years since I almost lost my freedom.

I stopped by the pier to remind myself why I didn’t trust bitches, and how much I had to lose if I did.

By the time I reached my place, I walked up the cobblestone pathway to the front door. The space should’ve been empty, but I smelled breakfast.

“Thought I told you to be gone before I came from my run.” I didn’t have to see her to know that it was Melanie once again trying to cross the boundaries that we had both clearly put in place.

“Just thought you’d be hungry after las?—”

“No, I’m not. Get your shit on and go.” I grabbed the room temperature bottle of water from my table and went toward the master bedroom to shower. This was my home, but it wasn’t where I laid my head. It was more like a crash pad when I had a bitch in the car. Nothing more nothing less.

By the time I was done with my shower, I didn’t hear anything in the distance and the pile of Melanie’s items were gone.

Good, because I needed to get my day started.

That included going to meet with a nigga who owed me money.

He said he had a way to pay me, and I was all ears.

I was no fool and knew he couldn’t get all that he owed me and just hand it over, but the businessman in me knew there was something.

After about an hour of just moving around, I went about my day.

I stopped off and got myself a breakfast sandwich from the café near the spot.

Usually I opted out, but Melanie was right.

I did work up an appetite, but I wasn’t eating a damn thing she or any female cooked.

I didn’t trust her like that. Just because we fucked didn’t mean a meal had to be had.

I ordered my shit and stood off to the side, waiting for old girl at the front to call my name when an incessant babbling caught my ear.

“I just don’t understand, Dad. What the hell am I supposed to do about him?

We’re not close, she had him after she abandoned me.

Why do either of them think I owe them anything?

Better question why are either of them reaching out to me?

” Shorty was in the midst of cutting up a pancake for the toddler across from her.

She was fucking beautiful with the type of lips that dicks appreciated. Mine would surely appreciate them.

“Trek, your order is at the front.”

The barista calling my name stole my attention from old girl.

I gave her one last look, before I went up and grabbed my food.

I was out of the door seconds later headed toward where I knew my brother was.

It was early in the morning, but motherfuckers loved to gamble and lose all their coins.

Didn’t matter to me because I was gonna get my money regardless.

I pulled up to the mattress joint I owned a few minutes later, opting to park in the back because if a motherfucker hit my car I was totaling their fucking life.

The mattress sales were a front, but the amount of ammunition that could be stuffed between the springs was the gold.

Plus on the lower level of the spot money was constantly being made off the backs of poor souls who couldn’t walk away from the table.

I grabbed the paper bag of food and entered through the backdoor, immediately being greeted by one of the guards who to the naked eye looked like he sold mattresses.

He was dressed in the khaki chinos and royal blue polo with the store logo to the left on his chest. He repped the Ace Mattress store well but didn’t know the first thing about ‘em except they were soft up until we stuffed them.

“Sup, boss.”

“Price of living, and gas,” I joked as always.

“Don’t I know?”

I continued past him into the back office. I knew for sure that’s where Cartier was watching the movement through the camera. If he wasn’t, then that nigga was on the floor. He was hands on, and that was necessary for the type of business we ran.

“Niggas just rolling in all late and shit, you good?” Cartier asked as soon as I entered the office.

I waved him off. “Clock these niggas in here, baby boy not me.”

“Fuck outta here. You’re my blood which means I’ma clock err’thang ‘bout yo’ missing in action ass. Must’ve had a bitch come through and that’s why you acted like you couldn’t pick up the phone and call me or yo’ worrisome ass sister.”

I chuckled before tossing him the other breakfast sandwich in the bag. Knowing him he hadn’t eaten shit today. “Her ass ain’t worried. Baby girl is broke and in a college dorm. She wants some money.”

He laughed because he knew I was right.

“And you already sent it.”

“Hell yeah I did. Shorty has all A’s and she ain’t out here hoing. The fuck you think I ain’t?”

“I hear you. But watch she don’t call until she’s broke again.

” I wasn’t finna get into this debate with him again.

He believed our sister didn’t need to stress about working while in school.

I agreed to some extent Indy needed to work, because she spent more money than the fucking drug dealers at this point.

Shorty was a bill and she had no concept of work because Cartier spoiled the fuck out of her… we both did.

“You heard from Linny?” he quizzed with a mouth full of food.

“Yeah, I told ‘em I’d see what he was talking about later on. Either way I’ma get my money.”

He chuckled. “Err’time that nigga gets out of the hole, he finds a way to get right back in that shit. Last time wasn’t it something about his mama’s house?”

“Yup. She took out a double mortgage to help that fool. Then he came right back in here and got in the hole.” Niggas like Linny disgusted me.

“That’s fucked up because you’d think he’d wanna steer clear of this shit. But nah, that nigga digs in and deeper. I even asked Marco about his playing and he said the man is trash.”

We both shook our heads but ceased any type of conversation about Linny. It was time to get down to business.

“Do you believe in God, Cartrek?” her tone was even and, I could only guess the expression her face housed.

“Do you?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“More than I believe in anything else. But this isn’t about me. This is about you.”

I bit into my bottom lip, before I glared at Sayers. She always wanted to get into a nigga’s head. I mean of course that was her job, but she got right to that shit. No pleasantries or anything, straight up mental invasion.

“So, do you?”

“Do I what? Believe in God?” I looked up at the ceiling then back down at my intertwined hands. “I have to, don’t I? Pops made us go to that fucking church every Sunday, even though going there didn’t do a damn thing for us.” Once I finished that statement, I looked at her.

“That doesn’t mean you believe in him.”

I shrugged. “Then maybe I don’t.”

“Okay. How are you today?” she asked changing the subject for only a few seconds because she’d definitely double back on this God conversation soon. It was how our sessions worked.

“Money is being made, I’m free and I’m alive. I can’t call it, Doc.”

She nodded. “You say you’re free and alive like that’s something of a sho?—”

“You don’t do what I do for as long as I’ve done it without a tombstone or shackles. They come from every direction to put a nigga down.” Every direction…

“You’re thinking about her?”

I nodded. “I am.”

“Do you regr?—”

“I don’t regret a damn thing that is warranted. Betrayal is punishable by death.”

“I never said it wasn’t, but our last few sessions have been you thinking about Mia. You keep going back to that day like you could’ve done something different.”

I nodded my head. She was right, but Mia had made her own bed.

She knew the consequences of betraying me.

She knew who I was when we took vows, shit even before then.

She knew who I was when she went undercover and made herself a part of my life.

She caught me slipping, something that should have never happened.

The message was clear as fuck and I got it…

Bitches weren’t shit but trouble. Mia taught me that.

“Do you wish you wouldn’t have been put in such a position?”

I made real eye contact with her before I spoke. “What position?”

“Being forced to choose between your marriage and yourself.”

My tongue glossed my teeth as the question she asked jumped around in my head. “All the time, but in the grand scheme of things we’re put in certain situations to learn from them, right?”