A Hustler's Wife (BOOK 3)

Chapter Ten -- Tour With The Rude Boy

Chapter Ten -- Tour With The Rude Boy

I tossed and turned in my bed, trying to sleep. The relaxing sound of the waves from the beach wasn't helping like I thought it would. My room's pitch black, only the light from the moon hanging over the water is shinning in. I turn to my side, then rolled flat on my back, then to my side again. I hate nights like these.

A cool wind from the opened balcony doors rush in, making the sheer curtains dance. My body shivered before I kicked the covers away from my legs. I stood up, walked to the glass doors, and closed them both. When I turned around, a cold barrel of a gun was pressed to my forehead. I opened my mouth to scream, but before a sound could escape, a warm hand covered my mouth. It wasn't a big, manly hand, but slim and thin instead.

Before I knew it, my body was thrown to the floor, making me land hard on my back at the foot of the bed. I rolled over to my side, moaning in pain. I heard the intruder walking over to the balcony where the light shown in from.

"Look at me!"

I didn't need to. I immediately recognized the voice, but did what was demanded anyway.

Celeste stood in front of the two glass door with all black on like a true criminal. Her long, light blond hair was parted down the middle, laying gracefully around her shoulders. A long stitched cut ran from the middle of her forehead and stopped right between her eyes. A little smile came to my face. I fucked that bitch up.

She noticed my snicker and her face turned from pleasant to angry in an instant. "Yeah, you're smiling now, but you're gonna be crying later, bitch." She raised the gun that was in her hands at her side and aimed at me. "This is for Red."

"Celeste, wait--"

POW!

I sat straight up in bed, the gun shot from my dream still ringing in my head. I put my head in my hands, ignoring the sweat that covered my body.

I let my fingers roam to my forehead, making sure I didn't feel any bullet holes. I know that's stupid, but that's how real that dream felt. Too realistic.

I put my hands down and looked around the room. The sun shone brightly through the opened balcony doors and child laughter could be heard coming from the beach outside.

I over slept.

A light knock then came from my room's door. I know it wasn't house keeping, because I put a Do Not Disturb door hanger on the door knob.

"Just a second!" I yelled while untying the hair tie from around my head. I stood up and ran my fingers through my hair, fluffing out my soft blond curls.

I walked over to the door and looked through the peep hole. Ron stood outside the door looking down the hall at something. After that dream, I'm not giving Celeste or anybody else a chance to sneak my ass. For now on I'm being extra careful. I stepped away and opened the door.

"Good Afternoon, Miss. Alexas Chantel."

I smiled before stepping to the side so he could enter. "Hey, Ron. Sorry I'm not dressed. I over slept."

I looked down at my over sized pink Minne Mouse shirt that read, 'Morning's Aren't Pretty' and shrugged. I shut the door as Ron took a seat in the cushioned chair in the corner of the room.

"Irie," he said.

I stopped walking. "Who's she?" I asked, totally confused.

He lightly chuckled. "No one. It means, everything is good."

I smiled. "Well, how was I suppose to know that?"

He smiled with me. "There's a lot you need to learn."

I nodded and went in my suitcase, looking for my offit for today. "No sey noting," I told him, coping his accent. It means, I'm in total agreement with you. I looked up at him, anxious to see his reaction.

He looked a little surprised then let out a deep laugh. "Okay, Okay I see you know a little something."

I giggled. "Already a few steps ahead of you, Ron."

He continued to laugh at my horrible attempt as I stepped in the spacious bathroom, clothes in hand. I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, did my hair and make up, you know, the usual.

When I stepped back out, Ron was in the same chair. He had his head down, looking at a phone in his hands. I put my things away and straightened up the bed since I won't be having room service at all while I'm here. New York and Jamaica may not be the same, but money is.

I cleared my throat, making Ron's head snap up. "I'm ready, if you're ready," I told him.

He flashed a smile then stood up, sliding his phone in his pocket.

We both walked out of my room to the elevator. As the inside wall ride dinged to a stop and the doors slid open, Ron and I stepped in. A man was waiting inside in a corner. He had dark skin with long, thick, bushy dreads.

"Wa'ppun, rude bwoy?" he said to Ron. I had no idea what wa'ppun mean, but I do remember singing Rude Boy with Rihanna a while ago. Even then, I still really didn't know what a rude boy is.

Ron smirked before slapping hands with him. "Demont, wa'ppun man?" he said, his accent thicker than usual.

The man Ron called Demont shrugged. "Anyting a anyting."

Ron nodded. "Dat cris."

Demont nodded his head at me. "Who dis?"

Ron wrapped his arm around my shoulder and rubbed my arm softly. "Disya doh-ta of big rude bwoy in New York City."

He smiled as the elevator came to a stop. "Member when wi dideh?"

Ron nodded before walking out of the opened doors. "I do."

I smiled warmly at the man before following behind Ron.

"Okay, you have to teach me your language. I barely understand anything that man said," I told him as we walked out of the hotel.

Ron smirked while unlocking a Lincoln MKZ with the small remote on his key chain. I slid in the passenger side while Ron sat on the driver's. I cant wait to see what this 'tour' would consist of.