Lighter Shade of Brown (Urban Fiction) BWHM

Chapter 3

A couple of days had passed since Cleo's run-in with C's. The residents of the Ninth had finally moved on to something else other than the alleged loss of her virginity to a Puerto Rican D-boy from across town. Liberty had stopped grilling her about the events of that day, and the swelling on her eye had begun to go down and only a few bruises still remained as testament of her time spent with C's. She hadn't heard from him since the night he dropped her off, but she hadn't expected to. How many times that day had he told her she was too young for him? Five maybe ten times. However, that still didn't stop her from reliving every single second of that day in strict detail.

The color of his eyes stayed locked firmly in her mind. Even the raspy edge to his voice repeated over and over again in her imagination. As far as distractions went, C's had become her obsession. So many unanswered questions about him tumbled around in her head. Who was he? How did he make his money? Why did he take such an interest in her? She growled as frustration ate her raw. She probably would never have the answers she greedily coveted. Hell, he probably would begin to fade from her mind in a day or two. At least she hoped. No. She didn't believe that for a minute.  A jones had rooted itself deep within her. And it would not allow her to forget about him. His energy had tattooed itself all over her soul. She was lost. Nothing would ever be the same now that she knew it was someone out there in the world like him.

So lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed that a car had pulled up in front of her building until the door slammed shut. Leaving her thoughts, she focused her attention on the medium height dark skinned dude with dreads. His body talked major smack about him being a track star, but she knew the deal. Humph! He wasn't fooling anybody. Tech Nine was more like the neighborhood trap star. He ran the Ninth and everybody in it. Including the two peons that flanked him. Tim and Dre.

Expecting him to go to Ms. Pat house under the stairs, she dropped her gaze to the ground to avoid eye contact. She damn near swallowed her tongue when he sat down on the step below hers. He leaned back, his elbows grazing her thighs. She shuddered and huddled closer to the stair rail.

"Humph." Dre smirked from the bottom of the stairs.

He and Tim both stood shoulder to shoulder. Like they were trying to block a potential escape route. Cleo rolled her eyes. They were as dumb as ever. If she wanted to run, down wouldn't be the direction she'd go. Hell, she lived right up stairs.

"Don't worry about dem, lil' Mama. Dey ain't gone hurt you. Won't let 'em." Tech said, in a thick Haitian accent. "Tech just wanna ask you a few questions. Won't even take up dat much of yo' time. Feel me?" He smiled up at her, flashing a mouth full of gold.

She guessed he wanted to put her nerves to rest, but it didn't. All it did was remind her that all predators had teeth. And Tech was the biggest predator in the jungle. Cleo nodded, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. "What you wanna, know?"

"Tell Tech about Gianni," Tech said, while searching her face for any stray expression to confirm whatever.

"Who?"

"C's. Tim and Dre, tell me dat dey saw him and another dude snatch you off the street on the way to the store." He covered her hand with his. "What dey want? Did dey hurt ya'?" The smooth chocolate skin on his forehead gave way to four deep furrows, as concern shimmered in his hazel eyes.

Cleo shook her head so hard she thought her brain would come out of her ear. "No. He had my back. When they tried to get nasty with me," she said, jabbing her finger in Tim and Dre's direction.

"What?" Dre's eyes bugged clean out of his sockets. "That bitch lyin', Tech. She was beggin' for it. Right there on the street. Tell 'em, Tim." He nudged Tim with his elbow.