Trouble in Rio Read online

  I was even more confused. This wasn’t making any sense. Clearly what he was speaking about and what I was going to share with him were two different things. The anxiety I had when he first entered the visiting room returned full force.

  “Pops, you don’t—”

  “I know I don’t have to, Corey, but just because I’m on the inside don’t mean I can’t make shit happen. You took on a huge responsibility, but you still learning. Hiring faggots to sell dope wasn’t something I’d ever do, but I can’t be mad at you. From what I hear, those fruits are out there moving weight in the clubs. For what it’s worth, it was a smart move. But now it’s time to get rid of them, son. We can’t have the reputation I built up be convoluted by having a bunch of candy asses—and now with Vinnie Dash being gone, it’s prime time to make some major moves. We need real men working for us. So, now we gotta do what we gotta do.”

  I sat back and stared at him in silence. It was no secret that my father was homophobic. I’d heard him make disrespectful and disparaging comments about gay men my entire life. But the look in his eyes told me that what he was thinking about was beyond a phobia.

  “And what is that?” I asked slowly.

  “We gotta get rid of them. Kill them muthafuckas.” A sinister smile spread across his face.

  “What?” I glanced around. The guards nearby didn’t seem to be paying attention to our conversation, thank God.

  “Don’t get me wrong. Like I said, they’ve done some good work, but at the end of the day, you know how they are. If we fire them, they will get all emotional, and there’s no telling what they’d do. They could go crying to the feds and take all of us down. They’re worse than women. Pansy-ass bastards,” he growled. “They’re all over the place in here, too, but they know not to fuck with me. I have shown and made it known that I will slice a sucker up without even having second thoughts if they even look in my direction.” This time he spoke loud enough for the people near him to hear. One of the guards smirked, but he didn’t look too concerned. He probably hated the gay inmates as much as my father did.

  “You . . . we . . . can’t do that. That’s crazy. For a lot of reasons,” I told him. “First of all, you sound like you’re about to take out an entire demographic of people, which you can’t.”

  “Maybe not. But don’t worry. I got a plan I’m working on, and hopefully I can take out a good amount.” He laughed casually. “What’s Dre up to? He handling things like he’s supposed to?”

  I couldn’t believe my father transitioned to asking about my business partner and second in charge like he hadn’t been talking about his plan to murder folks only seconds before. I was too busy trying to process everything to respond.

  “Corey, did you hear me ask you a question?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. Dre is fine,” I mumbled.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, son? You’re acting like something’s bothering you.” He became serious.

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “I just came through to make sure you were okay and check up on you. I gotta get up outta here. You need anything?”

  “Nah, son. You know I’m holding my own in here. You know how I do. And don’t worry about what we were talking about earlier. Like I said, I’m working on a plan to take care of it. You just keep doing what you’re doing. I’m proud of you, because Lord knows what would happen if you had turned out to be one of those queer-ass dudes. Then I would have to be trying to figure out how to kill your ass too. Right?” He stared at me intensely, waiting for a response.

  “Right.” I nodded.

  We said our goodbyes, and as he stood and hung up the phone, the little boy in me was crushed. The one who’d wanted his father’s constant approval and hung on his entire word died in me at that moment. I realized that my father would never embrace his seed as a man should and love me unconditionally. But it was all good. There was nothing I could do to change that, and although I was hurt, I told myself that I would be fine. I had no other choice.

  I walked out of that facility a free man, but my father would be forever locked up, both mentally and physically, because of his thinking. Brushing away the tears that fell from my eyes, I decided that one day, I was going to embrace myself and live my life just the way I was. But that would have to wait, because I didn’t know what kind of plan my father was working on, but I knew someone had to be ready to protect the gay men in our organization, including myself.

  3

  Diana

  The amount of money I had spread across my bed was enough to make someone think that I was either a stripper or a lottery winner, but I was neither. I was simply a part-time college student who’d run into a lottery-like situation. When my boss, Corey, came to me with his proposition, I was a little bit hesitant, but the money he offered and the opportunities that came with it were too good to turn down.

  We’d met one Saturday in the mall. Ironically, we were both looking at shoes—me, as a birthday gift for my father, and him, just because. The saleswoman had really convinced him that the ugly three hundred–dollar pair he was trying on were a must-have. Feeling sorry for him and not wanting him to go out looking like a sucker, I shook my head and told him the truth. Luckily, he listened to me, and after I helped him select not only the perfect pair but a matching ensemble to go along with them, we went to lunch, and a beautiful friendship was born. He was good looking, fun to be around, and he had money. I was shocked when I found out he was in the dope game, because he definitely didn’t seem like the type. Corey was far from a thug, but he was about his business at the same time. He had power but didn’t flaunt it, and I liked that about him. He was also easy to talk to. When I shared my dreams of one day having my own clothing line, he was very supportive.

  “I can see you doing that,” he told me.

  “Really?”

  “Hell yeah. You definitely have an eye for fashion, and you stay helping a brother look fresh in the latest gear.”

  “Yeah, you do have a point. If it wasn’t for me, there’s no telling what you’d have on. Probably some whack-ass overpriced moccasins,” I teased.

  A couple of weeks later, he said he had something to talk to me about. He asked me to meet him at one of the buildings they were renovating downtown.

  “What’s this?” I asked when I walked inside.

  “You like it?”

  “It’s a nice space, but for what?”

  “I was thinking about putting a boutique in here. Well, if I had someone to run it for me. You know anyone?”

  My mouth gaped open. “Are you serious? Stop playing, Corey.”

  “I’m dead ass. I’ll pay you fifteen hundred a week to manage it. But if I do this for you, I’m gonna need you to do something for me.”

  I paused, preparing myself to cuss him out in response to whatever sexual invitation he was about to extend. I knew the fact that he’d never pushed up on me was kinda strange, but now I figured all of that was about to change. “What the hell do you think I’m about to do for you? Because you know I don’t get down like that.”

  “Shut up, Di. It ain’t like that. But there are some other job requirements that you’ll be responsible for.”

  “Like what?” I folded my arms.

  “Like I’m gonna need for you to hang out with me a couple of nights a week at Wet Dreams.”

  “The gay bar?” I was familiar with the hottest gay club in town. Most of my gay classmates hung out there on the regular, and I’d been a few times with them. It was a great place to party, even for straight people.

  “Yeah, I own it now, so I gotta make my presence known.”

  “And you don’t wanna be caught up in there by yourself because people might think you’re gay. I get it. But why me? I’m sure you got plenty of bad bitches you can take,” I said.

  “This is true, but you know how it is: if you take a chick somewhere more than once, she naturally assumes shit. I don’t need that type of pressure in my life. And you’re a bad bitch that I don’t mind being seen with,” he said with a cute laugh.

  “Well, I am that.” I struck a supermodel pose.

  “And, if things go the way I’m thinking they are, this boutique, along with the club, are gonna be a match made in heaven. They’ll profit from one another. Same clientele.”

  “Damn, you’re right.” I nodded.

  “So, we got a deal?” He held his hand out.

  Fifteen hundred dollars to do what I love to do—play in clothes and party? There was no way I was turning it down. I quickly pushed his hand away and jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Hell yeah, we got a deal!”

  So far, things had been going perfect. Business at the boutique was booming, and I was having a blast hanging out at the club with Corey a couple of nights a week. As the owner, he had a permanent spot in VIP, where we spent most of our time. I couldn’t have asked for a better job. I was stacking my loot—hence the pile of money on my bed at the moment. After purchasing a new car, my next move would be to move out of my parents’ house. I had been there long enough, and it was time.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  “Hold on.” I quickly grabbed the money and shoved it underneath the bed before I opened the door.

  “Wassup, Pop?” I greeted my father with my “innocent daughter” smile.

  “It’s kind of late for you to be getting in the house. Were you at work?”

  “Yes and no.” I turned and walked back toward my bed, flopping down on it like I was a big kid.

  “That’s not an answer.” He looked at me seriously. He was such a protective parent, which was why I was in such a rush to leave the nest. Even though I was over twenty-one, he still treated me like a teenager. It was like I would never be grown in his eyes.

  “Dad, I’m sorry. I went out with the girls after work to chill for a little bit. I should have called. I was just releasing a little bit of stress from work and school.” I batted my eyes and pursed my lips to soften him up.

  “Next time, think of others and not just yourself,” he said, then he came over and kissed me on the forehead. “I love you, and I am proud of you.”

  He left the room, and I felt my stomach twisting into knots. His last statement hit me kind of hard. Was I really a daughter to be proud of? Yeah, I was in school completing my degree and working at one of the hottest boutiques in the city, but I was also doing something I never thought I’d be doing. It wasn’t just clothing I was selling at the store. I was also selling drugs and working for Corey Parks, one of the largest street dealers in Baltimore.

  4

  Rio

  I zoomed past the WELCOME TO BALTIMORE sign in the median strip as I entered the city. “Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus blasted from the radio, and I was filled with anticipation of all the things I might get into down here in B-more. I didn’t have a plan other than to arrive in the city. Now I was beginning to wonder if this was a good idea.

  “What the fuck!” I yelled out in anger as a crazy driver swerved in front of me with no blinker. Being a native New Yorker, I was used to erratic driving, but that shit still irked my soul. As I tried to calm my nerves, I realized that I wanted, no, what I needed was a drink.

  I pulled over into a random parking lot, googled “Baltimore hot spots” and then scrolled through the choices. One name stood out: Wet Dreams. The title alone was intriguing. I popped the directions into Maps on my phone and headed toward the club.

  The streets of Baltimore reminded me of New York on a smaller, poorer scale. I saw tons of abandoned buildings and boarded up houses, but I also passed by the Inner Harbor, with all its museums, shopping, and restaurants. That was the section of town that had been cleaned up for tourists.

  When I got to Wet Dreams, I was surprised by the number of people lined up outside. It looked promising. If the décor inside looked as good as the façade, then this place might be just what I was looking for. Something about it reminded me of the nightclubs I frequented in Paris a while back.

  There were only a few parking spots left about as far away from the door as I could get, and that pissed me off a little. Why wouldn’t a place this jumping have valet service?

  “Stop being so bourgie, Rio. Just go have a good time,” I told myself as I climbed out of the car and hit the lock. The neighborhood didn’t look too bad, but this wasn’t my city, and I didn’t want to take any chances. Last thing I needed was to end up in B-More with no ride.

  I walked toward the front of the club and checked out the people in the line. It was a mixed crowd, with people of all colors and nationalities—a clear indication that this was a well-established club that brought people from all over who wanted to have a good time. I was impressed. If I had any doubt about finding some gay men in the crowd, that disappeared as soon as I started listening to some of the conversations happening around me in the line. The word bitch was used between dudes, like, more times than I could count. A true sign.

  The line moved quickly, even though every person who entered was given a pat-down and scanned with a metal detector. A few people in line complained about it, but after that mass shooting in Orlando, you couldn’t be too safe these days, especially in a gay club. I was glad they were taking extra measures.

  As I stepped up for my turn to be searched, I could hear the music pumping. The guard patted me down, taking a little longer and pressing a little harder than he needed to.

  “Damn, was it good for you too?” I asked when he finished.

  He looked at me like I was crazy, but I gave him a slight smile, letting him know that I wasn’t offended. Real talk, it had been a minute since I’d been dicked down, so I didn’t mind being felt up in the name of safety.

  “Next time, ask for my number first. You just might get more than a few cheap feels.”

  He smiled back at me, and although he was noticeably cute, the night was still young. I wanted to get inside and prowl a bit before I chose my entertainment. If anything, he would still be there when I left, in the event that I didn’t meet anyone else.

  Inside the club, the room was packed to damn near capacity, with beautiful people on the dance floor, doing their thing. Several bars and lounge-type booths spanned the entire perimeter, with a few tall tables scattered here and there. It was plush, but not stuffy. Up above was a balcony, where the high-money clients were getting bottle service and surveying the scenery beneath them.

  I was enjoying the vibe—and definitely the sights—as I strolled over to the bar. The men were gorgeous, even the straight ones. Some of the gay brothers looked a little flamboyant, but others were more reserved about it. There were even a few thuggish queers in the mix. I was loving the variety I had to choose from!

  “What can I do for you?” the bartender asked with a quick glance down at my package.

  “That’s a loaded question.” I smiled flirtatiously.

  “Did you want a drink?” he asked, suddenly all business.

  “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you,” I apologized. Shit, did I read him wrong?

  “No need to apologize. It was funny. Thing is, I just don’t shit where I eat. Feel me?”

  I shrugged. “I totally understand. Give me a margarita on the rocks.”

  He walked off, and I turned to scan the room for someone who wasn’t on the clock and would be more open to whatever. When the bartender returned with my drink, I left him a semi decent tip, then walked over to one of the booths. I wanted to sit down and observe from a comfortable spot.

  People watching was one of my favorite pastimes, especially in the club. Some of the couples were grinding so good that they were damn near having sex, and that shit was starting to turn me on. One guy in particular was giving the people a show and getting it in with a few of the females in the room. He was well built and knew how to work his body. As I watched him from across the room, I began to feel a slight pulsation in my crotch, and I moved around in my seat to readjust.

  I enjoyed his little show for about ten minutes, watching him work that ass with a whole group of women. At one point, he turned around, and I took my eyes off his ass long enough to get a glimpse of his face. It was pretty dark in the club, but something about him was instantly familiar. He had a swag that let me know he had to be from New York. I leaned forward to try to get a better look at him, but he left the dance floor and disappeared into the crowd. I spent the next hour hoping to see someone else interesting on the dance floor, but no one even came close.

  Three drinks later, I knew it was time to leave or I’d be too drunk to drive. “Fuck it. Let me get out of here and get me a good night’s sleep,” I muttered to myself. I headed for the exit.

  Standing just outside the entrance, I started looking around for the bouncer who’d caught my eye, when suddenly I spotted the sexy-ass guy from the dance floor walking out. This time, I got a perfect view of his face. My heart dropped in awe and surprise. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I stared at him, standing near the front door, talking to a couple of people. My buzz was gone; seeing his face had instantly sobered me.

  “You a’ight? Hey, you good?”

  I realized the bouncer was talking to me. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “You sure you good to drive?” he asked.

  I continued to stare, unable to tear my eyes away as the guy from the dance floor put his arms around some woman and kissed her neck.

  “I’m good,” I muttered to the bouncer.

  It wasn’t until the two of them walked off in the opposite direction that I finally left. Inside my car, I sat for a few minutes, still in a state of disbelief.

  “It can’t be,” I said aloud to no one. “He’s dead. He’s supposed to be dead. I know he’s dead. I had his blood all over me.” I could feel myself trembling as I sat there, trying to make sense of this.

  The honking of a car horn somewhere in the parking lot brought me out of my trance. I needed to get out of there, but I realized I didn’t know where I was staying for the night. I grabbed my phone and searched the internet for five-star hotels and was happy to see the Four Seasons in the city. I booked my reservation online and finally pulled myself together enough to turn the car on and leave.