Dream Weaver Read online

  Twist pulled next to the truck and studied it. He shut off his engine and got out to take a better look. He peeked through the windows and walked around to check the plates. His mind eased when he saw local plates. He went to the passenger’s side and opened the door for Kianna.

  “Damn, baby, I was knocked out,” she said, stretching and grabbing her purse from the backseat.

  Twist held her door open, still looking over the area. “Come on, sexy.” He put out his hand and pulled her from her seat.

  “Aww… babe. You always make my day,” she said, pushing up on her tiptoes and kissing his lips.

  “Can I make your night?” he asked, squeezing her butt.

  “Mmm…you can make more than that,” she purred. “I’ma hook my baby up. Hot shower, massage, then I want to rock the mic. You ready for a sound check?” She rubbed between his legs, licking her lips as she walked off toward the steps.

  Twist smiled at the thought of her wet mouth and soft tonsils wrapped around the head of his dick. Kianna put the keycard in and hit the lights. Everything was where they’d left it. She smiled and entered the room.

  Twist turned to look out over the parking area one more time, before he closed and locked the door. He took one last look out of the curtain, then he took a breath and walked toward the bathroom.

  “You want me to order something to eat, babe?” Kianna asked, picking up the remote and setting the television to the R&B music channel.

  “Nah, I’m good,” he yelled as he turned on the shower.

  She turned up the television, stripped out of her clothes, and joined Twist in the bathroom.

  “Hey, sexy,” she said, stepping into the shower and eyeing all the sexy he had on full display.

  Twist took his thick pole into his hand and eyed her hungrily. “Check the mic, baby,” he said, his lustful tone boomed. He needed to make love to her mouth, and she was ready to make him feel her in his toes.

  Kianna squatted down in front of him, kissed the head of his dick, and took him into her mouth. She rotated between taking him to the back of her throat and pulling him out of her mouth to gently suck each one of his dripping wet balls.

  Twist got lost in every second. He closed his eyes, put his head back into the warm water, and relaxed, enjoying his special treat. Kianna also got lost in the moment, sucking and licking him into euphoria. Twist and Kianna got lost in her oral pleasure. Once he could stand up straight, he pulled her up to face him. He twisted her into every position he could get her into. When they exhausted the possibilities, they stumbled out the bathroom and fell onto the bed wrapped in crisp, white towels.

  “Thank you, baby.” She cuddled next to him and hugged him tightly.

  “I love you too, baby,” he confessed, holding her even tighter.

  They both drifted off into a hard snore, trying to put the day behind them. At approximately midnight, Kianna woke and looked around the room. She wrinkled her nose as heat moved from her chest to her throat.

  “Shit,” she said while walking to the refrigerator. She grabbed a bottle of water and swallowed quick. She stood for a minute and tried to control her breathing. As soon as she started to walk back to the bed, she got hiccups and wanted to vomit.

  “What’s the matter, baby?” Twist woke up, rubbing his eyes.

  “I got heartburn, baby,” she said, rubbing her chest and trying to hold her breath for a twenty count. “I need a soda, Twist,” she damn near cried as the acid burned her throat.

  “We don’t have nothing in the refrigerator?” he asked, not wanting to move from his warm spot. Twist rose to his feet and grabbed his sweat pants and a t-shirt. “You better be glad you’re having my son.” He placed his hand on her belly.

  “I am so happy I’m carrying your son.” She smiled at him.

  Twist grabbed the room key and headed out the door. He eyed the parking lot as he walked down the long walkway. He turned into the small opening with the two machines and ice maker. He put in his money and hit the ginger ale. Nothing came out. He hit two other buttons and nothing came down. He pounded on the machine and then kicked it. The light above his head flickered, making him uneasy. He paused and looked out of the opening. The silence and heat of the night was suffocating. He dipped back in and tried another dollar and the last soda slot. When he hit the machine and the soda fell into the opening, he breathed a sigh of relief. He stood up with a smile on his face.

  When Twist took a step forward, Dream was standing there in all black with a heart to match.

  “Small-ass world,” Dream said in a low, raspy voice.

  “Not small enough.” Twist thought about being what seemed like miles from his gun, but most of all Frank’s words came to his mind. Don’t take your girl.

  “I asked you muthafuckas to not make me have to hunt you down, but you chose otherwise.”

  “I’m a man, so I take full responsibility for my shit. But I need to ask for your mercy when it comes to my seed.”

  “My man had three kids. Did you take mercy on them? Don’t ask me to do his family an injustice.” Dream pulled his heat from his waist line.

  Twist looked at Dream’s unwavering eyes, then said fuck it. He threw the soda can and lunged. Dream dipped that shit and caught Twist with a two piece. When he fell back into the ice machine, Dream lunged forward and stomped Twist in the chest. “Muthafucka,” he barked. Dream kicked him in the mouth, causing his front teeth to crumble and spill from his bloody mouth.

  Dream walked over to him, flipped him on his stomach, and tied his hands at the wrist. “Shit about to get real interesting,” Dream said, going into his pocket for the key card.

  Dream hit him a few more times, knocking him out cold. He dragged him down the walkway, opened the hotel room door, and threw him in the room, sending his body crashing into the small table next to the television.

  Kianna jumped up from her spot on the bed in fear. “Oh my god, please,” she cried out.

  Dream put his gun to his lips. “Shh…” He gestured, then looked down at her belly. Kianna nodded.

  “Where is the money?” he asked calmly.

  “Over there,” she stuttered, pointing toward the closet.

  “Go get it,” he ordered.

  Kianna wrapped her body in the white sheet and moved to the closet. She retrieved the bag and brought it to Dream’s feet.

  “Sit your ass down in that corner,” he pointed back to where the closet was.

  Kianna moved as quickly as she could and balled up like a baby. She tucked her head in her knees and cried.

  “You like taking shit from people?” he asked, pulling Twist up by his dreads.

  “Ahh,” he yelped.

  “Look up, sweetie, I don’t want you to miss anything!” he yelled at Kianna

  Slowly she lifted her head as she tried to hold her cries in.

  “You got the money, please let her go,” Twist begged.

  “This is way past money. You took that innocent man’s life. And for that I need yours in return.” Dream reached in his pocket and pulled out his paring knife.

  “Please, I will give you whatever you want. Please don’t do it. I need him,”

  “And so does hell,” Dream stuck the sharp object in his temple and pulled it out slowly. “Let me have your dreams,” he growled, sticking it in again and pulling out flesh.

  Kianna covered her mouth as she watched the blood pour from his open wound. Twist’s body jerked as Dream repeatedly stabbed him in the side of his head. He dropped his body and spit on his face. Dream stepped back and looked at Kianna.

  “I didn’t see anything,” she pleaded, holding her stomach.

  “I know what you saw. You safe. I don’t kill women and children.” He pointed his knife at Twist’s dead body. “But this nigga? He touched something of mine. So he had to be dealt with.” He raised his voice as the mere thought almost sent him into a fit of rage. “I’m letting you go, but I know that revenge can lead a man’s heart. So if you or that little orphan-as
s nigga in your stomach wants some get back, I’ll be in the shadows.”

  He grabbed the bag of money, tossed her a small stack, pulled his hood down over his eyes, and was out of the door just as smoothly as he came in.

  Kianna sat in the corner, eyes fixed on Twist. His blank stare through his half-opened eyelids chilled her to the bone. Tears ran down her face, but not a sound left her body. She just sat there and cried until she had nothing left.

  Chapter 11 - You’re Dismissed

  “I know you’re chasing Derrick. Why don’t you let that shit go?” Muffin looked at him in disbelief.

  Dream stared off at a thin crack in the kitchen tile, holding his hand to his chest as he thought about the scar left behind from an almost fatal event. He smirked, nodded his head, and rose to his feet.

  “Do me a favor. Stop coming to my grandmother’s house.”

  “Excuse you?”

  “You heard what the fuck I said,” he growled, switching the love he had for her into hate.

  “I do more for your grandmother than you do. So don’t come up in here barking orders at me. Fuck you.”

  “Say some more shit?” Dream jumped up in her face, towering over her.

  Muffin held her head back and, true to her character, tested his gangsta. “Some more shit,” she said. She stared into his eyes, daring him to do something.

  “Don’t get fucked up.”

  “And you should try not to get fucked up either.” She tried to push the envelope.

  “I am so fucking glad I don’t have to deal with yo’ ass no more. Stop fucking coming here.”

  “You are so evil.” She pushed his chest, but he didn’t budge.

  “And, bitch, yo’ ass is scandalous.”

  “I knew you would never change.” Her nostrils flared, and her lips tightened.

  “Exactly. So stay the fuck away from me.” He eyed her intensely.

  “What’s going on in here?” His grandmother walked into the kitchen in her oversized house coat and extra-thick glasses.

  “Here, Granny.” Dream reached out and gave her some money.

  “I don’t need this.” she tried to reject it.

  “Well put it away for later,” he said and kissed her forehead.

  He looked over at Muffin and wanted to choke the shit out of her.

  Muffin shot him the same shade. She knew he was all bark with her, and she always used it against him. “I want some.” She put her hand out.

  Dream looked at her pouty lips and sassy attitude. She was the last piece of humanity he had left. She knew all his secrets and all his fears. He only fought with her in an effort to erase the pain of love.

  Dream gave her a few hundred. “Stop coming here.” He pushed it hard in her hand.

  “Thank you. You want a kiss?”

  “I don’t want shit you got.” He pushed her hand and walked off.

  “I love you too,” she yelled at his back.

  “I’ll see you in a few days, Granny.” He hugged her around her neck.

  “Okay, son. But be nice to Muffin, she loves you.”

  He smiled at is grandmother, rubbed her shoulder, and walked off.

  * * * * *

  Dream hopped in his dark-green truck and pulled off. He was enraged. He turned up the music, trying to fight the horrible memories of the night that changed his life, but the emotion was too strong. He looked out over the road as his mind took over and played the full-length version in his head.

  “Ma, can I have another bowl of cereal?” Dream asked his mother, looking into her pretty, hazel eyes.

  “One more bowl and then to your room. You know your father has his card game tonight.” She kissed him on both cheeks and pinched his nose.

  Dream giggled and hugged her around her waist. “I love you, mommy.” His little voice cracked as he felt the warmth of his mother’s hand caress his back.

  “I love you more, my heart,” she knelt down to look him in the eyes and spoke the realest words he would ever hear. “You must always remember, never let a man cross you twice. Once may be a mistake, and you handle it that way. But twice is deliberate. And if you don’t handle that enemy, he becomes your murderer.” She looked hard into his once-innocent expression and watched him age with her every word. “Move with your heart. A man without heart has no loyalty.” she hugged him tight, then rose to her feet and poured him a big bowl of cereal. She tried on every occasion to give him something to cherish. She looked over at her only son and feared that her words to him would be more valuable then he knew.

  Dream took the bowl from his mother’s hand, rubbing his fingers over hers. The softness of her skin gave comfort after the harshness of her words seeped into his soul.

  “Smile, baby, it’s never that serious.” She lifted his chin and gave him a big smile.

  Dream smiled back before he walked off to his bedroom to eat and play his game. When he was done, he walked back to the kitchen to see his father’s friends strolling in the door with beer, liquor, and loud conversation.

  His eyes widened when he heard words that no ten year old should ever hear. He saw big hands slide between thick thighs and mounds of breast. His heart raced at the sight of pink panties through spandex pants. He placed his bowl in the sink, slid over to the side, and watched. The first hand of cards were dealt, and the energy in the room rose to a boiling point. Music and heels clicking to the beat became a theme song for the night. One card after the next slapped bellies with the shiny surface, then ink hit paper and money exchanged hands.

  Dream drank up every drop of sin, adding them to his to collection of memories he recalled in the private moments he had begun to spend with himself. A knock on the door started the tornado of events that he could only describe as the end of his life.

  “Y’all niggas better not move until I get back, either,” Buck, Dream’s father, yelled out through a wide, bucktoothed smile on his way to the door.

  As the door opened, Dream could see the expression on his father’s face change as if thunder had clapped. Buck stepped back slowly as a tall, dark man in a suit and tie stepped through the opening, causing other smiles to turn downward.

  “Well, don’t everyone perk up at once,” the man said, opening his suit jacket and taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

  “You betting or you leaving? You know the rules.” Buck stared at Smoke as he pulled a thick cigar from his pocket and put fire to it. He blew lightly on the flame and put it to his lips.

  Clutching the butt end in his teeth, Smoke reached around and pulled out two mahogany-handled, snub-nosed pistols from a black holster and placed them on his lap.

  “Smoke, we ain’t got no beef with you,” Buck said, holding his hands up as if to calm the situation.

  “You know, I was coming over here to drop a few and maybe get some of that sweet honey you got up in here.” His eyes settled on one of the young ladies seated in the lounge chair a few feet away. “But since your mouth is so disrespectful, run me yo’ shit and don’t make me ask twice.” He lifted his barrels and rose to his feet.

  Buck looked over at his wife and nodded his head. Shirley moved slowly to the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a small, tin box. She put it on the counter.

  “Bitch, do I look like I am about to walk over there and get it. Bring it to where I’m standing,” he barked, letting the cigar fall from his lip and hit the floor. He crushed it into the carpet with his boot and focused his gun in her direction.

  “You ain’t gotta do this, Smoke,” Buck pleaded.

  “Nigga, shut the fuck up! Next time roll out the red carpet, and I won’t have to help myself.”

  Shirley walked over to Smoke with her jaw set and eyes fixed on his, ready to go in. Buck watched the interaction and the expression on Smoke’s face as she approached. A slight curve came to the corner of his mouth as his eyes wandered over her five-foot frame. Her thick, shapely legs and wide hips always moved with a sway, commanding all of his attention. The one that got away, he alw
ays thought.

  “Pass that shit to him,” Smoke directed her to his boy.

  Shirley passed the box to Rubin and backed up, looking at Smoke as if his ass stunk.

  “I see you and your bitch is disrespectful,” Smoke commented, looking over at Buck.

  “Your mother’s a bitch,” Shirley hurled under her breath, and before she could finish her next step, Smoke wacked her in the back of her head with the gun.

  As Shirley fell to the floor, Buck dove to the table and snatched his gun that was hidden underneath. The guests began to scramble, and Buck and Smoke let off shots. Bullets whipped through the air at a rapid pace as bodies scattered left and right, looking for cover.

  Dream pressed hard against the floor as he tried to crawl to the nearby closet. His chest felt like hot wax was running down to his stomach. He slithered inside and crouched in the corner. He pressed his hand over his wound and cried. Loud screams and the whistle from the guns filled his ears like radio static. He covered his head and closed his eyes, wishing he could blink and make the whole night disappear.

  Buck struggled to see through his only good eye. After a few blinks he saw bloody heads and open chest wounds. The burning sensation in his stomach pushed blood up into his mouth. He spat out a glob and looked around for his wife. He finally saw her, and he shuddered at the sight of her lifeless body. In that second he prayed for death. He closed his eyes and welcomed his fate.

  Dream sat still until silence fell over the room. No voices, no gunfire, just the static in the air that announces death’s presence. He tried to stand but could not. The pain in his chest held him to the floor. Mommy… the word left his mind but wouldn’t leave his lips. The energy from her love was faint, so he knew he had to get to her. He pushed himself up with his last bit of strength.