The Hired Gun Ch. 07

"Okay, what now?"

"Depends."

"On what, exactly."

"Whether you truly meant what you said about not harming innocent people; I want you to call the next person I name and ask them one question. If you know what I'm talking about when I say the name and you still decided to fuck with me regardless, you are full of shit; a fucking hypocrite, Babbette."

"I ain't no hypocrite, bruh." She sounded like she wanted to throw hands, but I wasn't that easy.

"Then call your mother and ask her who's Pastor Grey."

We shared a moment of silence before she did as instructed, brow furrowed mean mugging.

"HEY WHERE YOU AT BABBETTE?!! YOU NEED TO GET BACK HOME SO WE CAN TALK ABOUT...!" Babbette's phone was on speaker as she kept eye contact interrupting her angry sounding mother.

"Mom, who's Pastor Grey?

The phone went dead silent for two minutes, but I could faintly make out some heavy breathing from the other side of the line.

"Georgia bring that up?" There was another bit of silence from Babbette's side of the line this time.

"So uhm, you know about Pastor Grey, then?"

"Did your auntie tell you about him?"

"No."

"Uh, hey Babbette do me a favor and let's keep this between us; whatever you do, don't bring this up to your auntie. I uh...NEED YOU TO OBEY ME!! Keep that shit under your hat wherever you got it from because if you say that name to your auntie, I'm gonna have to use my strap to get her off of you. Uhm, you know I love you, right? I just want what's best for you, that's why I'm so fucking hard on you, baby. Your daddy and I don't want anything to happen to you because you're our blessing. I love you."

I watched Babbette go through the five stages of grief before answering.

"I love you too mommy." Her voice faltered.

"Hey, maybe we can go shopping and get some new stuff for your bedroom; I know I made a stink about leaving it the way it was. Since your aunt and I messed it up, you can change it however you want; and we can go to that dress store you like down at the mall, too. You can use my credit card, baby... Babbette, you know I love you, right?" I could hear the fear in Martha's voice and the decline in her daughter's defiant tone but said nothing.

"Yeah, I know."

"Don't forget what I told you; uhm, maybe you should hang out wherever you are for a little while. Your aunty has been on one this weekend; I'm gonna suggest she go home today, and then we can do that mother daughter thing."

"Muh, okay mom." Babbette's bottom lip quivered.

"Love you." Martha ended the call quickly leaving us sitting there in the park in the early morning sunshine. I sat there staring at her face making it obvious I had all of the answers. It looked as if she'd been hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, mentally speaking.

I looked away again staring across the court listening to the sounds of some kids at the playground just over the hill.

"Babbette."

"Yeah?"

"Do you love your auntie?"

"Yes."

"Do you respect your auntie?"

"...yes." The slight instant of hesitation told me I'd hit her where she lived whether she realized it or not.

"Babbette I'm gonna give you some nuggets of wisdom because you honestly didn't know who Pastor Gray was; this tells me you're the innocent in all of this when all is said and done. So, people aren't exactly black and white, Babbette. I understand this more than you know, right now; so, I'm telling you to let it go but I know you won't. When you find out, you're gonna have to make a choice Babbette. Some people say blood is thicker than water, but I know different. Maybe you should bury it."

"You talk like an old man."

"That's because I used to be you."

"Fuck you." She hissed, lashing out emotionally.

My android landed in my lap as she turned away sitting there lost in thought. I watched her doing a slow burn in impressive profile weighing my options before slowly standing up tapping away at my phone. A simple pic had changed her day and part of her foreseeable future. I thought about all I'd been through over the past few days as I looked down at the top of her head. Her treasured aunt had sent me a pic of her phenomenal rear end with some white panties stretched beyond skin tight across it. Sister Jacobs wanted to "win" a thousand dollars from me and get a little bit more. We shot content that night.

"I'll leave you with this, Babbette." I faced my phone in Babbette's field of vision as she sat on the grass, overwhelmed.

"The first time I tried it; didn't know my ass from a hole in the wall. My man was ah, big talker full of ideas and all; telling me that my big ole ass was gonna make us rich. Nobody gave a shit about the first sex tape, especially buying it from the trunk of some fool's car. Part of me was happy it didn't work out, but he wouldn't give up."

Babbette's face scrunched up as the voice of her favorite aunt filled the air while onscreen, she was seen disguised as Ms. Hate recounting part of her horrific origin story in a candid moment. Babbett e's lips were quivering as she realized just how naive she was in light of Sister Jacob's true malevolent nature.

"WHY DID YOU SHOW ME THAT?!!"

"For clarity; because I'm supposed to be the bad guy. Do what you want Babbette; I'm tired of people flicking shit at me with a blindfold on, so you're not getting the kid gloves, either."

I pocketed my phone walking off leaving her there on the grass content not to take things further. I walked over to a fieldhouse near a winding road that ran through the park already thinking of what I was going to do with the rest of my day with Jaquan at the top of my list. He didn't tell me what happened, which was in line with his pride. I was still his younger cousin, so it made sense that Jaquan wouldn't confide in me but explained his appearance in Esther's presidential suite. Babbette delivered a torpedo to his confidence and my auntie. I tried to figure out how to casually get the information out of him as I exited the fieldhouse restroom taking a drink from the water fountain just outside the door.

Babbette was sitting on the hood of my car talking heatedly on her phone as I approached. She hung up quickly when our eyes met. I didn't say anything using my key chain to unlock the doors with a chirp.

"Do you mind?" Babbette sat there with the phone dandling between her thighs on a cord. I found that cord matched her multicolored aesthetic as she peered down before meeting my gaze.

"Would it be much of a stretch to admit you got me fucked up?"

"Correction, you got yourself fucked up; I didn't target you or your people; but I guess you consider that shit you were planning uh, hood justice. My cousin had nothing to do with anything, wasn't even there at that church on the day in question; but you fucked with him when he was completely innocent. By the way, thank you for not murdering him. I don't know what I'd tell his daughter and I sure as hell wouldn't want to go to his baby mamma with my hat in hand. So, think I'm gonna get out of here."

"...uh, I didn't understand what was going on."

"Maybe that's for the best."

"My aunt ain't perfect, far from it; but she's been my rock from time to time when I was here in the states. I always suspected she had a past, but just never got around to asking about it."

"Do you mind?" I gestured towards my car again.

"I'm trying to apologize here; but yuh acting all brand new and shit." Babbette slid back into her fake accent as I facepalmed, starting to get annoyed.

"I didn't ask for an apology; as far as your aunt goes, I didn't know who she was when I shot her for my website. She controlled everything about that shoot, and I just wanted some damn good content to put on my site at the time. Back in the day, she was the meanest lady at our church and an elder who disappeared because of a scandal. From what I know, she should've stayed gone because nobody wanted her back. You can hate me all you want, but this wouldn't have happened if she hadn't tried to take back her spot by doing something heinous to a girl who lost her innocence under her watch."

"Would you tell me about it."

"Talk to your aunt."

"It's complicated." Babbette admitted dipping her head again.

"Do you mind getting off my hood, Babbette; I'm going now." I folded my arms staring at her face, starting to get agitated with her insistence on taking me on the crazy train.

"Right."

She slid off the hood, but then leaned against the driver side door folding her arms across her chest looking at me with her head cocked to the side.

"What is this?"

"I feel bad."

"Not my problem."

"Look, I made a mistake and I'm sorry about that; my mother doesn't know a thing about what my auntie was planning. They uh, had kind of a toxic relationship even though you would think they were sisters cut from the same cloth if you saw them."

"Didn't ask." I went for my door caring little that my hand brushed against her own huge derriere. Babbette reacted quickly turning her butt in the other direction facing me with her arms still folded across her chest.

"What's a girl gotta do to get you to talk to her?"

"Give me some pussy."

"Wow... nice one there, bruh." She replied sarcastically.

"You asked."

"I had you pegged as a devil with a silver tongue, but I was wrong; that motherfucker is platinum." She scoffed and got out of the way walking around the front of my modest Honda Civic as I got behind the wheel turning on the ignition.

"What are you doing?" Babbette got in beside me sitting shotgun with her arm propped up on the open window.

"Calling your bluff."

*************************************************************************************Twenty minutes later I pulled into the hotel parking lot where my Auntie Esther had been formerly staying before taking her flight. I didn't want to think about my pathetic uncle finally bending the knee enough to buy a ticket to follow her wherever she was going. Strains of Womack and Womack's "Baby I'm Scared of You" filled my car as I drove in silence straight to the hotel. Babbette did all the talking which was pretty much one sided explaining that we couldn't have used her car due to her mother putting air tags all over it to keep track of her whereabouts. I really didn't care one bit.

"Uhm, so where are we?"

"You said you were calling my bluff, right?"

"Yeah, I just expected something much less uh, expensive." Babbette commented sitting next to me in a hunched over posture with her shoulders slumped peering out the window. Her breasts looked on the verge of bulging out of her bra top with a seat belt wedged deep into her cleavage. There was a deep natural arch in her back right over her own huge, densely packed butt which was so big, it created a wardrobe malfunction and wealth of rear cleavage. It was the ultimate plumber's crack, bar none.

"Well, you can always call an uber back to the park and your car, Babbette." She perked up at my suggestion looking at me slightly indignant.

"Oh no, you're not getting rid of me that easily, bruh."

It was my turn to look indignant with a half smirk on my face as the valet approached my driver's side door with a ticket. I got out without saying another word, stepping up onto the curb noticing some patrons and visitors staring in my direction.

"HEY, DON'T LEAVE ME!" Babbette shouted after me as I heard my car door slam. She was already looping an arm in mine pressed too close for comfort. Babbette noticed some particularly salacious stares coming from various people which included a security guard and some stupid looking blonde kid who was immediately popped in the back of the noggin for trying to file with his phone. His rotund mother shot us a disparaging look as Babbette averted her eyes, embarrassed. I didn't give a fuck.

"Hey they have a pretty good restaurant here in the lobby where you can charge your phone, too; girl, I need some rest and a break from the drama, so why don't you just kick it down here while I catch some z's upstairs." I tried to give Babbette an out once we were in the lobby which was bustling with people from all walks of life.

"You're trying to ditch me?"

"Yeah girl, you're probably gonna try to fuck with me on some nonsense and I really don't feel like dealing with that bullshit right now." I casually palmed the back of my head, scratching the side as I spoke, while she started to pout.

"I thought I was calling your bluff."

"You're suspect Babbette; and I saw you talking on your fucking phone when I came out of the fieldhouse; so maybe you and Sister Jacobs can have a nice brunch before you go home empty handed.

"You really think that?"

"Yeah, you could've put an air tag on my ride, or they could use find my phone; fuck, you could even be wearing an air tag on your body somewhere for all I know, Babbette." She was looking at me with this incredulous expression on her face as she handed me her iPhone, which had been turned off while we were in the car.

"Paranoid, much?"

"Says the woman who's been faking a Jamaican accent for almost twenty years."

"I'm not really faking it; it's just not as thick, alright."

Babbette wilted as I raised a brow with a half smirk, again.

"You really have to meet my mother sometime; it would explain much about me "faking an accent" as you say. I just figured she wouldn't believe I spoke Spanish, French, or Wolof; I'm fluent you know."

"Wolof, seriously?"

"Yeah, I thought as some point I would nope out of this American bitch for greener pastures; you know, get a natural brother for a husband and make it outside of the system. Dad, made sure I kept my head in the books; didn't I mention that, or were you just looking at my tits."

I chuckled as she redoubled her grip on my arm caring little that it was sandwiched between her aforementioned tits.

"If you're still paranoid, I'll let you check my body, upstairs."

"Oh, is that right?"

"Come on; call my bluff." Babbette herded us over into the alcove pushing the elevator button herself, but scoffed when I produced an access key opening the double doors.

A family squeezed into the car with us as I pressed my key to the sensor on the panel. Babbette's sweaty decolletage caught the eyes of the father and his teenaged son until the wife shot an elbow into her husband's ribs. Babbette turned into me hiding her face in my side. This left her huge, densely packed badonkadunk at the bottom of a tiny waist on display as the guys shot fleeting looks with the teenaged son lingering until his mother violently snatched him away talking in some foreign language.

"Thank you." Babbette said as the car continued up to the VIP floor.

"For what?"

"How you look at me; uhm, like a regular person." It was meant as a compliment, but I half turned looking at her face.

"Babbette, you know what I do for a living on the low; stop the cap."

"So, you're saying that if you weren't in the porn business, you'd be a thirsty ass nigga, too?" I did a doubletake at her blue use of the word, then chuckled.

"No, I've been getting around for a minute now, and it's all circumstantial. What I trying to say is that I hang around women, a lot."

"So, you're a player?"

"More like a uh, LBWB." I made up an acronym to explain my life over the recent past getting her brow to furrow as she inquired further.

"What does that shit mean?"

"Little Brother with Benefits." I answered without hesitation making her chortle.

"You're funny."

"Handsome, smart, and good in bed, too."

"Ah, you're only medium cute."

"I get that a lot, too." Babbette snickered, giving my hand a squeeze with both of hers as the elevator doors opened. We exchanged glances sort of chortling nonverbally admitting our collective bullshit walking hand in hand to my auntie's abandoned presidential suite. A housekeeper's cart was outside the open door as the room attendant appeared finishing up.

"Oh, you want late checkout?" The diminutive Latina asked.

"Yeah, what time is that again, ma'am?"

"Two, you want I should tell my supervisor?" The room attendant was not hiding the fact that she was looking Babbette up and down, suspiciously.

"Thanks, miss." I tipped her a ten dollar bill standing off to the side with Babbette sort of hiding herself behind my body against the opposite side of the corridor. The attendant finished stocking the main bathroom with fresh towels and amenities before pushing her cart down the hall to the next room.

"Help yourself." I handed Babbette the key card without looking as she took it from behind, half snatching it from my hand.

I walked in the middle of the corridor with my hands in my pockets when I noticed the room attendant watching as she set up her cart after opening the double doors of an adjacent suite. The light click of the lock drew my attention back to the door of my suite finding Babbette peeking at me from behind one of the double doors. There was a knowing smile on the attendant's face as I winked, acknowledging it.

Just inside, I found her leaning against the wall next to the main bathroom with arms folded behind her back.

Babbette had this impish look on her face as I hesitated, noticing the room key on the table behind the double doors. Her curves were off the charts approximating the most ridiculous hourglass figure I'd ever seen before. I tossed my keys on that table next to the room key glancing at the cleaned room wondering what that attendant thought while she was servicing what had been a porn set over the last few days. I felt like all of the drama had been purged from the suite, until I noticed a remaining bottle of lube and some condoms left behind on the bedside table. It was the reddest of flags as Babbette noticed, too. A sliver of embarrassment reminded me of my old self as I looked at the floor, then her face with a chortle.

"Come on, check my body to see if I'm wearing a wire or something." Babbette flirted, tilting her head to one side staring me up and down. I walked over boxing her into the wall with my arms folded across my chest, biting my lower lip to stifle a grin.

She was pretty tall at probably five eight or so, built like a brick shithouse with her top shelf spirits beyond mouthwatering enhanced by a deep sweaty looking cleavage surrounded by a bright colored ethnic bra top. I was nearly a head taller, which gave me a good look at Babbette's bust from above as she peered into it, then looked up into my face. I could see her nipples poking the material of that top.

"Okay Babbette; assume the position."

She made this kind of goofy face, then turned about quickly planting her hands flat on the wall with a deep arch in her lower back. Her overly wide hips bumped me as she turned about letting her butt swipe my groin. I couldn't help getting a visual of her arched back getting an up close and very personal of her inherited curves. I'd been with an infamous member of her family and could see that lineage pressed into my crotch. This natural badonkadunk matched Sister Jacobs perfectly, a size and a half larger, more densely packed. Babbette pressed backward rubbing her butt into my business with a pop of her hips.

"Whulla dat meat pack back there scaring yuh huh boy?" Babbette teased in her fake accent.

I patted her down kneeling down starting with her calves, followed by her powerful thighs letting my hands linger there while I got a face full of her monster sized, heart shaped butt. Looking at it dead on was staggering as I found it was so thick, Babbette's derriere overlapped the tops of her powerful thighs. It was all I could do not to bury my face in it as my hands framed her small cinched waist. Babbette humped backward as I pulled myself upright using said waist. Her monster pressed hard into my crotch remaining there as my hands slid up her sides just below her armpits. Babbette was audibly huffing.