The Hired Gun Ch. 06

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[PRESENT]

"Motherfucker." I found myself looking at a clip of my Uncle Grady "flossing" with two hoochies in an il-advised sex tape. My portly uncle looked outmatched and on the verge of a coronary as the clip ended quickly.

I'd muted my phone leaving everybody on read due to my second controversial exposure as part of my Auntie Esther's bubble. There was no doubt I was nuclear to any of my family peers, and I was wisely bowing out of the situation until things cooled off. Karma didn't seem to want to get off my bumper as I went into the administrative side of my site making all of Esther's content inactive. I found that a few cousins on my father's side of the family had already picked up a clip or two leaving the more expensive full episodes untouched. My father's name popped up as the only person who picked up all of her content.

"Figures." I knew he wasn't doing it for my uncle recalling the story of my auntie slapping the shit out of him with a dishrag when he got too close for comfort in a big enough kitchen. I guess he had to scratch a long nagging itch wondering how he felt watching his son do what he only wished he could've done in the past.

My social media page blew up in an online witch hunt by people from both sides of the family, a lot I hadn't seen since I was a kid. Instead of deleting or making that page inactive, I left it up without responding to a single disparaging comment or insult about sleeping with my "auntie" which was mostly clueless people who didn't know we weren't actually related. This page was to serve as my sounding board and ear to the ground, metaphorically speaking. It was hard to look at and take from hypocrites who side eyed Esther talking behind closed doors calling her a gold digger. Grady was her legitimacy.

I downloaded the embarrassing clip holding off on blocking my foolish uncle.

My body was still out of it after fooling around with Charity Gilbert's mother over the course of the weekend in several bouts of hysterical bonding. Angela cleaned up the house and fixed me a decent plate after leaving me lying. Her humorous side was laid bare with her own little video clip left behind to playfully stick the fact that I couldn't hang to me. After watching that clip more than a few times, I almost dialed her up but thought better of it. She'd likely leave me in a wheelchair, I mused smiling.

I had other things on my mind, namely a mysterious call from what was probably a burner phone. At the time I was utterly oblivious and out of it from my sexual drubbing. It became plain I'd answered the call in my sleep, so I didn't recall any specifics. Charity Gilbert was out of the question as a possible culprit which led me to Andre's shitty wife, Dayna. This didn't make sense because I was in custody of his android while I took the weekend to work on his situation. I went online with the intent of ordering up his marriage license but couldn't find one. I checked his phone finding some calls and angry texts.

After learning of the diminutive woman's malfeasance, I ended up trolling her with a double catfish in the guise of Andre's former girlfriend and online talent, Shawnee Thompson and my own cousin Jaquan. The text messages suggested she felt Shawnee was flexing and disrespecting her with each becoming increasingly panic filled. On the other hand, she was engaged in fostering an active affair with the fake version of Jaquan with his face strategically obscured. I was working Dayna in an attempt to get her to send me some nudes or something, but she was hesitating. She was wisely all about "Quid Pro Quo."

I chopped up some footage of Jaquan jerking it from the day prior during the shoot with Mz. Giggles aka Auntie Esther sending her a thirty second clip. I reasoned that he already appeared online in several porn scenes between two sites already having an alibi should things go sideways. I'd just tell Jaquan to go with the modeling to "make ends meet" narrative even though he was pretty much a trust fund baby. His doctor mother set up a living trust that took care of the mortgage and bills, leaving him with a monthly stipend which he'd always taken for granted.

Part of me wondered if that was extra incentive for Renee Kelly's entrance into his life besides his obvious physical charms.

"Put up or shut up bitch." I sat there after sending Dayna that seconds long clip waiting for her to reciprocate.

A few more texts found their way onto Andre's phone along with a voicemail that I hesitated before activating. Dayna was doing double duty on an early Sunday afternoon, but my multi-task game dwarfed hers. I drummed my fingers on the kitchen table finishing up the plate left behind. Angela Gilbert was one hell of a cook. I kept looking at the portion of her little movie in which she did the laundry wearing nothing but an apron using it as a sexual prop after dumping my dirty clothes. I wished I could post it, but knew it was out of the question.

"Bingo." Dayna sent a clip.

Once I hit it, I was treated to a view of what was obviously the bathroom in the home she shared with Andre. It was cluttered and sort of dingy looking as I realized it was shot using the mirror. At first the bathroom seemed empty, but the top of her head appeared in frame first for a gradual reveal of her face. Her diminutive stature was evident as her face rose into view framed by a big, oversized shock of frizzy looking brownish blonde, kinky afro wig. She wasn't unattractive, just cursed with a sort of arresting bitch face. The reveal continued as her shoulders and chest came into view in a sheer top.

"I guess I laid it on way too thick." I rested my chin on my fist unimpressed.

Dayna was thin leaning almost towards a sinewy build that brought up all sorts of questions but well defined from what I could see. Her small tits were veritable pancakes simply outlined against her torso and not much else as she slipped out of the top. I snickered as she cupped her invisible boobs grinning at the camera on her phone like a jackal. The difference between her and my former Puerto Rican ingenue was night and day. This tiny petite little thing could fit inside Ms. WTF's zaftig body no problem.

Things got even more humorous as Andre's better half decided to play hide and seek with me, virtually quickly dropping out of view. The sound of some sort of stool scraping across the floor followed before Dayna popped up again almost spring loaded. She was standing on a stool or something leaving me with a view of her flat tummy and some high waisted black panties, particularly her visible camel toe. This lasted a second as she turned her tight shallow butt in my direction, mooning me for a moment.

I was still unimpressed with this noting the large sunflower tattoos that dominated a hip and left buttock. The clip ended as quick as it began, leaving me sitting there in static dead air, befuddled.

"Uhm, okay." For comparison I pulled up an off-site clip of the last time Andre hit Shawnee's ridiculously mountainous badonkadunk during what seemed like an intended dig at me shot by one Renee Kelly. The resident stud was seen judiciously railing the stuffing out of the monster sized Boricuas donk with impunity while she barely reacted. The contrast between these women was jarring bringing all sorts of questions to the fore. Andre and Jaquan had one hell of a night with the latter more than knowledgeable he was taking part in a burn directed at yours truly. Dayna to me, was utterly blah.

"Oh yeah, alright." Dayna was blowing up my messenger wanting to know what I thought, so I forwarded her the rest of Jaquan clip edited down to the crucial moment. I should've felt weird about it knowing Jaquan got so hot and bothered during the prior shoot that he actually "took matters into his own hands" while Mz. Giggles was getting railed and had the wherewithal to get it on camera.

The decidedly messy seconds long clip of my cousin blasting several ropes in the camera's direction had to be edited down because the appropriate level of shame engulfed him at the outset making the lothario wipe up his mess with a towel in a panic. That was not the image I wanted to convey with my sanctioned bootleg version of Jaquan.

"That didn't take long." Dayna replied with several eggplant emojis enthused by the visual as I suspected talking about a meetup. I ghosted her watching more unanswered texts flood my bootleg phone.

I was letting it percolate going so far as to switch off my burner leaving it unattended to get a bit of editing done in-between other multi-tasks. My calls to Jaquan's iPhone went unanswered telling me that my wayward auntie by marriage had properly done her job of distracting him too well.

Calls to customer service and some serious schmoozing on my part led to pinpointing Andre's switch console. The version I purchased was a used display model picked up used by the staff there with a number of features already activated, but more importantly was the connected USB add-on at no extra cost. After getting the location of the game I looked it up on Google.

"Martha Jacobs; who the fuck is that?" My brow furrowed as I ran a shallow background check using free services online trying to figure out why Andre would've gone to the small home revealed using the street feature of google maps. The neighborhood was okay, sort of a semi-suburb Mid City, but this odd shiver ran up my back as I dialed up Jaquan getting his voicemail again. It was just after noon as my android rang with a facetime request that made me bite my nails before answering.

"Good morning, Tressie!" I tried to look and sound innocuous, but I could tell this was all business.

"Is she still there or did you make her do the walk of shame?"

"Angela's gone."

"Angela, huh?" There was a glint in her eye that was not unexpected after the events of the prior night, early morning confrontation between the two women in her beau's life.

"Stop, it's cool Tressie." I made the timeout gesture to the face of my mounted phone.

"Does Charity think it's cool you're fucking her mother?"

"Ask Charity."

I watched her do an obvious slow burn.

"Demon can be there in eight hours."

"Mr. Gilbert left his twelve gauge in the closet behind the front door."

"He wants to kick your ass out on the street, but I talked him out of it blaming it all on his shitty ass first wife. Did you know she was going to do that shit last night?"

"I suspected as much."

"Maybe I should take a road trip back up there with William's hunting rifle in my trunk. You can only point that fucking gun at one of us."

It was my turn to do a slow burn.

"I wish you hadn't called Tressie; you were so much cooler when I made myself forget about that shit you tried when you thought I was screwing with you. Angela is not a threat, and I would think that your husband to be, would be significantly upset with a murderer for a wife. Did you tell him what you tried to do to me? What, he didn't convince you last night? Are you going to fuck it up for Justin and Stacy, too? Are you going to sacrifice your brother Demetrius for your own goddamn happiness, bitch?"

She was sitting on what was presumably the front porch of the track house Mr. Gilbert bought in a wooden rocking chair. Off in the distance a lawnmower or tractor was heard as she did a slow burn.

"William knows enough; we have no secrets, about anything. That's one of the reasons he offered you that house to live in after your parents disowned you."

"Are you scared?"

"Yeah, I'm scared and I'm sorry for fucking with you. I apologize for letting the jitters make me do something I already regret. Justin likes it here and he's made so many new friends at school while Stacy still has her moments. William's even talking about adopting them if we can't find their mother. It's a bit much sometimes and I feel like I'm holding on by a thread most of the time. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Tressie Fisher, I love Vickie Stone so much that I don't want you to call me ever again on this crazy shit or we're gonna have to settled up, for real. I don't know if Demetrius is living there with you, but I like his demonic looking ass because he's one of the hundred percent honest motherfuckers I know in my life. He deserves a chance to be something other than your goddamn Pitbull. Shame on you when so many people went to hell and back to make you and William happy. Don't fuck with Angela, she's out."

"Uhm..." She looked on the verge of tears.

"No."

"Sorry." Tressie whimpered.

"Don't be sorry, be happy bitch." I hung up in her face.

The phone hit the floor as a surge of rage radiated throughout my body leaving me emotionally shook. Afterwards I was determined to reclaim the good will left behind by Angela by eating the dessert she'd prepared and left behind in the fridge. Hands started shaking when I handled the door handle making me stave off the treat snapping up my phone power walking to the living room. The phone was already ringing off the hook from Tressie's new home state as I had a seat on my front porch wrapped in a robe with no fucks to give. My heart was pounding, and I felt like punching something. It was face time.

"Mr. Gilbert are you evicting me from this house." I wasn't going to waste any more time on some out of state bullshit.

"Hey check your tone, I just want to talk!"

"No, you want to yell at my ass like I'm your fucking kid, but I'm grown, and I got like, two perfectly good parents of my own who raised me to be financially independent and my own fucking man whether they liked it or not, Mr. Gilbert! I didn't ask for the shits this weekend! Angela popped up on me looking to make some trouble with you, but you didn't tell her you moved! THAT SLIP YOUR MIND, SIR?!! Shit happened, you know we did it and I took care of it after you guys hung up last night! I TOOK CARE OF IT WILLIAM!! OKAY?!! You two lovebirds get MARRIED and LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!!...it's the least you can do after all of the DRAMA and TRAGEDY! CAN YOU TWO DO THAT?!! GOD KNOWS I CAN'T CAUSE MINE IS DEAD!! SHE'S DEAD AND I GOT HER SHITTY COUSIN DIALING ME UP FOR SOME SHITS! Fuck."

When he didn't respond I looked at the face of my android finding that Mr. Gilbert was sitting in that rocking chair with Tressie at one side, Demon on the other. All of them were staring without word as I ranted without looking at my phone in the first place. There was nothing else to say, so I stared back.

"Tressie messed up this morning when she called you; I said as much. Demon feels the same way and you've done nothing but good for this family, my family as a whole. My daughter holds you in high regard and is the happiest I've seen her in years because of her "friendship" with you. We're all very sorry for what happened this morning and Tressie knows that if she steps one foot back inside your state line, this marriage will be over on the spot. I respect you kid; whatever you've got going on with Angela is your business. That ship sailed a decade ago; only Charity remains and she's off to college. Thank you very much for everything, sir."

My right eye started twitching as he spoke as I cupped my hand over my mouth overcome.

"Thanks." I mumbled as Tressie took a seat on his lap staring woefully into the camera.

Demon looked uncharacteristically subdued as I was reminded of the first time, I'd ever seen the man one night outside of our church. Tressie caught my eye first in this revealing dress as she joined her brother and another man in the car with Demon sitting in the backseat. He'd noticed me just as our eyes met scaring my clueless ass shitless. They sped off into the night, but the impression remained. I realized that was the night Pastor Grey went missing.

"I ain't coming out there, man!" Now, I was looking at a changed, much different man.

"Didn't think you would, Demetrius."

"Hey, we're good and just to let you know I gave Tressie a little bit of what I gave Vickie that night I dropped her off at your place to apologize for that dumb shit she was on with you." I raised a brow reading between the lines. He was referring to the actual ass whipping with a belt delivered to my lost lover's big rear end after she ambushed me without receipts at a local park earlier in the day.

"Must run in the family, huh bruh?" He shot Tressie a look that reinforced what he'd likely done after finding out about the first call. She looked away while Mr. Gilbert looked between them for a moment.

"Next time I see you, I'm gonna give you the same."

"Bullshit." I was finally able to laugh with the men joining in from their side of the world while Tressie kept quiet leaning into Mr. Gilbert as his hand encircled her waist resting on top of her outside thigh.

She was wearing this lite colored thin country dress that failed miserably at hiding the thick buxom body underneath. Her chest surged looking as if it would pop a few buttons. Tressie gave her soul mate a kiss on bearded cheek. Three out of the four of us knew I didn't trust her one bit, but resolved to keep up appearances, nonetheless. Suddenly Justin appeared in frame smiling at my countenance.

"HEY MISTER!! YOU COMING TO THE WEDDING?!!" He shouted happily waving as I waved back.

"NO!!!" All three shouted loud enough to make him flinch, then laughed nervously as I joined in, realizing the absurdity of the question given my sexual past with Tressie and Mr. Gilbert's daughter.

"Maybe next time." I offered an olive branch.

"Sure, I'd love to take you on a hunting trip out back in the woods." Mr. Gilbert replied shooting a look in Demon's direction. Tressie stared statically at my face without word, then glanced at her bare feet.

"I'm gonna mail you some wedding cake!" Justin offered disappearing as quickly as he appeared.

It got silent again making me feel as if I should take the initiative.

"Uhm, congratulations...I'm going."

"Thanks for everything; I mean that kid." Mr. Gilbert replied.

"You're welcome...OH, SAY HI TO CHARITY FOR ME!!" His daughter's visage just popped into my head.

He hung up before I could finish saying her name.

*****

[3 HOURS EARLIER]

"Hey you, okay? Are you all there boy?" Esther watched, noticing Jaquan zoned out knowing it wasn't connected to their just completed blistering encounter. She propped up on her elbows as he snapped out of it, looking lightheaded.

Her phone was ringing in the bathroom snapping one of her afternoon lovers out of his stupor. Jaquan pressed a hand to his defined chest glancing around the presidential suite before his eyes settled on Esther, particularly the mess of splooge from her cleavage down to her mound. Her peach was glazed over with oily streams running deep into the crack of her ass. It felt like a Mack Truck had run through her after dealing with two overly endowed studs. Esther's feet were planted flat, one shoe missing.

"I think so." Jaquan scratched his head using the missing heel noticing in seconds with a sheepish look on his face.

"Don't you even try to tell me I whipped it up on you like that." She stretched her arms high above her head off the edge of the bed audibly cracking a few bones.

"Alright, you want me to get your phone?" Her phone was ringing almost nonstop, but she was sex addled as well nearly on the verge of passing out from the potent one-two punch of both guys.

"That'd be nice, thank you Jaquan."

He hopped down walking pigeon toed to the main bathroom holding his junk as the ringing stopped. Esther followed him with her eyes but was pretty much inert matter caring little who was calling. Jaquan was a handsome distraction that a lot of her friends would've killed for, and some even kidnapped truth be told. Esther's humble origins and strict upbringing left her at the periphery of most social circles. Once word got around about her curves and huge ass, all bets were off.