I watched four men emerge with weapons. One in particular stood out to me. Mike Walker. I knew his stature. The puzzling thing is, why would he be after me? I called out to him. “Mike, what’s up with this?” He put his hand over his eyes to shade them from the sun. “Piggy?” Drell nudged me. “You know these motherfuckers?” “I know him.” I heard Mike Walker tell the goons behind him to stand down. Mike Walker dropped his weapon. I gave mine to Drell. Mike Walker and I started walking towards each other. It was unusually hot this morning, even for Houston, Texas. I heard Drell ask me if I was ok. I kept walking towards one of the most serene men I knew walking the earth. Obviously Mike Walker was here to do dirt but even in all black and the .50 he had in his hand, there was something so spiritual about him. He took my hand and kissed it. “What you doing here, Mike Walker?” “I’m on a hit, you know that. What you doing here?” Hmm. Interesting. So he wasn’t after me. Then who? “You on a hit for who?” I knew that Mike Walker sometimes subcontracted his services for different made niggas. Wonder who his client was today? “I’m doing a hit for Monet. Came through this morning around 6 a.m.” He pulled an envelope from his back pocket. Inside of it was a picture of Milton Spivey, his car and distinguishing characteristics about him. “Mike Walker, why does Monet want Drell dead?” I turned to look at Drell unsure of how to read him. “Lil one, I don’t know all of the details. She just said that he was no longer needed. You know in our world that that is explanation enough. Why are you with him?” Why all of a sudden, Monet puts a hit out on Drell? I mean she had just saw us together this morning. Ohhh ok. That’s why. I had marked him. Well, she couldn’t have this one. “Mike Walker, I’m about to ask you to do something that’s unthinkable.” “I’m listening, Courtney.” I turned to look towards Drell who was posted up. Arms folded across his chest. “I need you to fall back. Let this one go. She ask, tell her you lost him.” Mike Walker and I were staring into each other’s eyes. The same darkness. I saw in his and he saw in mine. Looking at me, he called back to his men, "Hey, we let this go. We gotta other stuff to take care of." He moved closer to me. "I hope he's worth it but more importantly I hope you know what you're doing." I nodded. Mike Walker got back into his vehicle. "What the fuck was that about, Courtney?" I didn't say anything. He wrapped his arms around me. I took in his scent and my thoughts were now clouded. I wanted this to be so bad. I did. Like I could see us seriously dating, getting married and being together. We had just reconnected from years ago and I was already planning to spend the rest of my life with him. I had to slow down. I could feel my veins pulsating. I needed a fix and I needed it fast. "Courtney, what's wrong with you?" Now he would see a side of me only a few have. "Help me to the car, Drell. We gotta get back to either the hotel or take me to Baker's shoe store." He seemed confused at first and then he thought about it. "Let's go back to your hotel. You don't look too good." We headed back to the DoubleTree. On the radio playing was Just Friends by Musiq Soulchild. I smiled because it took me back to simpler times. Drell turned it up and I thought about how maybe things would have been different had Milton and Courtney been MORE than just friends back in the day. I shook my head to clear the thought from my mind. I tried to live in the now. Text message on my phone alerted me that Symone was okay with her travel arrangements. Well so far things seemed to be going okay. "So are you going to tell me what that was all about back there?" His voice brought me back. I lick my lips and looked at him. He kept his eyes on the road but I saw him shift in his seat. We got back to the Double Tree and the satin Manolo Blahnick black mules that I had ordered were waiting for me on the king sized bed. "Nice room." I sat my purse on the counter and when I saw the box I started to shake. I knew that Milton was probably freaked out. "Look, if you want you can go. I know you may not want to see this." He sat down in the recliner. I stripped down to my bra and panties. I slipped my foot into the right shoe and I was transformed. I was no longer a rogue, Houston cop. I wasn't a King or Queenpin. I was more than just a beautiful woman with insecurities. Naw. I was HER. I was sitting on top of the world. I took the left shoe and placed it sole down onto my throbbing vein. I could smell blood. Seated on the bed in front of the mirror, I saw that my nose was starting to bleed. Blahniks always caused my body to react like this. I had completely forgotten that Milton Spivey was in the room. I wiped the blood away and wiggled my toes into the silk material of this finely crafted shoe. I saw colors in shades and hues of reds, purples and pink. I was high as shit. I then put the other shoe on my foot and unclasped my lace bra. My addiction was heightening. You see these Blahnicks were three thousand dollars. I was still trying to hide the money that we had collected at Albro's. I would do it. I figured that after all I had accomplished I deserved a recreational hit. Sadly though I was beginning to see that it was more than that. I got up and sashayed over to Drell. Straddled him in the recliner. "Still feel the same about me now?" He didn't say anything. We kissed and I felt rolls of pleasure down my spine. This Mississippi boy had knocked me off kilter and I was okay with it.
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