Flawless 3: The Finale

  FLAWLESS 3

  THE FINALE

  JADE JONES

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  This novel is a work of fiction. Any reference to real people, events, establishments, or locales is intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Other names, characters, and incidents occurring in the work are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, as are those fictionalized events and events that involve real persons. Any character that happens to share the name of a person who is any acquaintance of the author, past or present, is purely coincidental and is in no way intended to be an actual account involving that person.

  Copyright © 2015

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portion thereof in any form whatsoever.

  FLAWLESS 3:

  THE FINALE

  PROLOGUE

  “How could you hate me so fucking much?!” Dana screamed at the top of her lungs. When Desmond popped up unexpectedly at her hotel door that morning, she let him have it. She didn’t appreciate the way he had dissed her for his girlfriend Kim. And she certainly didn’t appreciate ranking second in his life.

  “Dana, chill with all the theatrics, man. It’s too early for that shit,” he said, stepping inside.

  Dana didn’t give a damn. She’d let the whole twelfth floor know how she felt if that meant getting through to Desmond.

  “I’ve held you down like she can’t even begin to imagine!” Dana continued. She was referencing the time he did two years after getting caught up on gun charges. “I’ve done nothing but love you, Desmond! I even fucked bitches with you just to fulfill your fantasies! I did everything for you! And this is how you do me?!” There were tears in her eyes as she went off. “What were you thinking trying to sit me down with that irrelevant ass bitch? I’m so sick of you disrespecting me for her!” Dana pointed her finger in Desmond’s face and he flipped.

  “First off, get ya finger out my face ‘fore I break dat mufucka,” he warned her. Dana thought about challenging him but decided against it. “And what the fuck you mean how could I do some shit to you?” he asked. “Dana, open yo mothafuckin’ eyes! We been over damn near a year! Everyone else seems to know da shit but you!”

  “I gave you over seven years of my life!” Dana screamed. “How can you throw it away for a bitch you barely knew seven months?!”

  She wasn’t expecting him to say, “I’ve known her longer than seven months. ‘Bout six years ago to be exact. Back when me and you first got serious—when we were just kickin’ off the business—I came to Atlanta with my patnas. I met Kim here and we fucked around a couple weeks while me and you were together. Her son is biologically mine.”

  Desmond quickly ducked after Dana threw the newspaper at him. Next was a shoe, and after that was an actual iron. If she didn’t chill, he’d be the one to have to come out of pocket for damages.

  “I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN FAITHFUL TO YOU, DESMOND!” she screamed. “I still ain’t even fuck another nigga since you left and you treat me like I’m shit on the bottom of your shoe! Constantly walking over me and disregarding my feelings! What about me?” she cried. “What that bitch got that I ain’t got?”

  “For one, maturity,” he said.

  Dana sucked her teeth and rolled her neck. “Oh yeah? How’s this for maturity? Next time I see that hoe I’m shootin’ at dat ass! And I don’t give a fuck if it’s broad day light or if she with yo’ illegitimate ass son—”

  Desmond viciously grabbed Dana and slammed her over the nearby desk. Her face hit the surface so hard that it instantly turned beet red. He didn’t take kindly to her threatening Kim or Jordan. She’d definitely crossed the line, and now it was time to put her ass back in place. Lately, Dana had been thinking shit was sweet, but sadly she was in for a rude awakening.

  “You talk too fuckin’ much, bitch!”

  Dana struggled beneath Desmond, but her effort was useless. She felt pathetic as he snatched her pants and panties down while keeping her bent over the desk.

  “This what you want, right?” he asked. “A nigga to fuck you like you ain’t shit?”

  “Desmond, you’re hurting my arm!” Dana cried out. He had her shit twisted at an unbearable angle, but he seemingly wanted to hurt her. It felt good to dog her ass like she’d been doing him for the last few months.

  Desmond ignored Dana’s pleas as he mashed her face into the wood’s surface. For the first time ever, she actually didn’t want the D. As a matter of fact, she was outright afraid of him.

  Desmond started to put something hard and heavy in Dana, but he decided not to. A nut would only further complicate shit.

  Turning her loose, Desmond straightened up his clothes. A $2000 fit was now wrinkled. “Look around!” he yelled. “You in a fuckin’ hotel! I ain’t put you up in no crib down here! Go home, Dana!”

  Still upset by the fact that he was choosing, she said, “I promise you will never see Destiny again!” she said, acting petty as usual. Whenever she didn’t get her way, she used their daughter to threaten him.

  Desmond headed to the door. “I ain’t worried ‘bout dem threats no mo’. I already got my people workin’ on a custody hearing. We’ll see how you act when you comin’ through me to visit her. Play with it if you want to, Dana. I can make ya life hell.” With that, he walked out the door giving her something to think about.

  Tears poured down Dana’s cheeks as she watched Desmond walk out of her life for good. He had degraded her in every way imaginable that morning—especially by admitting he’d cheated on her with Kim.

  “He ain’t gon’ just keep fucking me!” Dana yelled to no one in particular. She was at her wits end with Desmond. With nothing left to lose, she grabbed her phone and dialed 911.

  ***

  On the way from Dana’s hotel, Desmond’s guilty conscience began gnawing at him. He knew he’d treated her like shit, but he felt like she didn’t give him any other choice. A couple weeks ago, he had gone behind her back and filed for custody, but he didn’t give her a choice on that either.

  Desmond sighed deeply, and ran his hand over his brush waves. He seemed to have the worst luck with women. Suddenly, Kim came to mind. Pulling out his iPhone he decided to call her up. It had been an entire day since they last spoke, and he wanted to see if she was still in her feelings.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  Desmond chuckled, relieved. “Damn, I’m actually surprised you picked up for a nigga.”

  He could feel Kim smiling on the other end. “I still got love for you, Desmond,” she said. “I just don’t fuck with you from time to time.”

  Desmond laughed, amused by her statement. “What you getting into tonight?”

  “No plans.”

  “Why don’t you let me take you and Jordan to the movies? The Regal Cinema in Atlantic Station ain’t too far.”

  Kimberlyn was flattered that Desmond didn’t waste any time. She could never stay mad at him for too long. “Sure…as long as he does well on his homework.”

  “Cool…”

  Desmond’s voice slowly trailed off after noticing the flashing blue and red lights in his rearview. “Shit,” he cursed.

  “Is everything okay?” Kimberlyn asked.

  “Lemme call you back right quick.”

  Before she could respond, Desmond disconnected the call. He checked the speedometer because he knew he was going the limit. When he finally realized it wasn’t the spe
ed limit, Desmond hesitantly pulled over. He wanted to shit a brick too because he had a zip and a couple guns in the trunk.

  “The hell? This that bullshit,” he said, parking the car. In disappointment, he watched through the side view mirror as the officer climbed out and approached him.

  Life’s a bitch, he thought. And it was fucking Desmond in the worst way imaginable.

  Once again his poor treatment and choices towards women had proved to be his downfall.

  ***

  Two days later, Romeo and Shayla had just returned from their Icelandic adventure. She still hadn’t told anyone that she’d gotten married. That weekend she planned on having a little get-together at a lounge with her girls where she planned on breaking the news. She was even thinking about inviting her ex-boyfriend’s girlfriend Nina in spite of their past differences. She wanted to let it be known that there were no hard feelings.

  It was a little after noon, and Shayla had just finished packing her little items. She was finally moving back in with her man. Her parents were at a local art festival so they were unable to see her off.

  When Shayla heard the horn honk out front, she knew Romeo had just arrived with the truck. Shayla immediately went to her front door and walked outside. Romeo and a couple of his boys hopped out the custom bronze 2014 Hummer.

  Shielding the sun with her hand, Shayla approached them. She looked beautiful that day in a baby blue maxi dress.

  “Where’s ya shit?” Romeo asked after kissing her.

  “It’s inside. I know you didn’t think I was just gonna carry—”

  Shayla’s sentence was cut short when she saw a familiar boxed Chevy drive past. As soon as the windows rolled down, her eyes shot open in surprise.

  POP!

  POP!

  POP!

  POP!

  POP!

  A single bullet tore through the back of Romeo’s shoulder before piercing Shayla’s chest. They fell together, but he made sure to catch her on the way down. Right after shots rang out, Romeo’s boy’s retaliated. Luckily, they were always strapped and ready for war.

  TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT!

  A machine gun pistol tore through the metal frame of the black car. The shots didn’t deter Kaniel in the least because he still continued to fire back. Romeo would have to pay for his killing his baby brother, and he wouldn’t stop until blood was finally shed.

  POP!

  POP!

  POP!

  Romeo barely seemed to notice or care about the gunfire surrounding him. Tears filled his eyes as he held onto Shayla’s motionless body. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she was sleeping. Only she wasn’t.

  “Shayla…?” His voice came out cracked from emotion. He wanted it all to be a nightmare, but sadly it was his reality. All Romeo had ever wanted to do was protect her and he had ultimately failed.

  For every cause was an effect.

  Romeo’s niggas continued to open fire until they shot out a tire. As soon as the whip spun out of control and crashed, they ran towards it guns aimed. Lamar and Kaniel tried to hop out and run, but they didn’t get very far.

  Romeo cried like a baby as he rocked Shayla back and forth in his arms. More than anything, he hated himself for wasting so much time. All the time they spent arguing and bickering, he should’ve been cherishing every second with her. Now it was too late…

  1

  “Romeo?! Aye, Romeo! Come on, homie! The hell you want us to do with these fuck niggas?” Apollo asked zealously. He was a shooter and a wildcard straight out of Compton, whose trigger finger was always itchy. For most of his life, he’d worked as a contract killer. Because of all the bodies he had under his belt, he intimidated a lot of mothafuckas.

  Apollo had just moved to Atlanta, Georgia two weeks ago after an early prison release. He’d known Romeo and Desmond since he was 17 and they immediately put him on following his discharge. Apollo was like fam. They all wore the same color flag, so he took the hit just as personally.

  Moving his shoulder length dreads out of view, Apollo studied the cowering ass nigga on the ground. Lamar’s bottom lip was busted and leaking after he bashed him in his shit. Clutched tightly in Apollo’s right hand was a Ruger p95 pistol with an extendo clip. His urge to splatter the brains of the mothafucka who’d shot at them was intensely strong. Unfortunately, Kaniel’s bitch ass had gotten away on foot, but he wouldn’t get too far. Apollo would make sure of that. The shit they’d pulled was ground for an automatic death sentence.

  Romeo barely heard a word Apollo had said. He’d almost forgotten where he was, and what was happening. The only thing that mattered was Shayla’s welfare. Fate had just dealt a blow neither of them was prepared for.

  “Shayla…get up…get up, baby,” he cried.

  “What’chu want me to do with this nigga? You want me to lay this nigga down or what?” Apollo’s index finger rested on the trigger of his Ruger. If he squeezed, he’d paint the concrete in Lamar’s blood. His patience had clearly run thin. All he needed was the go-ahead to end the mothafucka’s shallow existence.

  Romeo didn’t respond as he carefully lifted Shayla in his arms and carried her towards his truck. Today was supposed to be the day they moved back in with each other—the moment when they solidified their unity by taking things to the next level. Who would’ve thought such a beautiful day would’ve ended so tragically?

  “What’s up, man?” Apollo pressed. He had Lamar at gunpoint, and was waiting on the signal. They had to retaliate quickly before the police swarmed the scene and took matters into their own hands. He could already hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance.

  Romeo could give two fucks about what happened to Lamar. On any other occasion, he would’ve gladly emptied a clip—but the only thing he cared about at that moment was Shayla.

  In silence, his boys watched as he climbed in his whip and peeled off. When Romeo bent the corner, he heard a single shot go off in the distance. Apollo had heartlessly let off one round in Lamar’s skull.

  As soon as Romeo made it to Grady, he parked crookedly in front of the emergency room and carried Shayla towards the entrance. The minute he walked inside with his baby in his arms, hospital personnel rushed towards them and promptly placed her on a stretcher.

  “She’s not breathing!” a nurse pronounced.

  “Is she gonna be aight?” Romeo’s voice cracked with emotion as he spoke. His Givenchy tee was covered in her blood. He would’ve given anything for it to be his own instead. Shayla didn’t deserve the hand she’d been dealt. She didn’t deserve any of it. “Tell me somethin’! I can’t lose her.” Romeo was frantic as he tried to follow them back to the operating room, but an RN quickly stopped him.

  “Sir, you cannot come back here—”

  “The hell I can’t! That’s my fuckin’ wife on that stretcher!” he defiantly argued.

  Nurses and staff continued to wheel Shayla off to the OR while Romeo disputed with the young nurse.

  “I’m truly sorry, sir, but it is protocol—”

  “Fuck a protocol! I need to be there for her!” Without thinking, Romeo snatched up the young nurse and shook her violently. He was so delirious and upset that he didn’t realize how out of line his actions were. “I need to fuckin’ be there!”

  All of a sudden, security intervened before the situation became too heated. When Romeo began putting up a fight he was arrested on site.

  ***

  Desmond’s grip on his steering wheel tightened as he watched the squad car stop directly behind him. His stomach flip-flopped at the dreaded sight of flashing blue and red sirens. Something about the police made him queasy—especially since he had a few unregistered guns and drugs in his trunk. Shit couldn’t have been any more screwed up.

  “This be that mufuckin’ bullshit,” he mumbled.

  Desmond turned down the volume to his Gucci Mane Trap House 3 CD as he watched the older, white officer climb out and approach his Porsche. He made a promise to himself that once he ma
de bail he would choke the life out of Dana. That bitch had fucked him more times than he could count on both hands. Only this time, she’d gone too damn far.

  I gotta stop fucking with this hood hoe, he told himself. Dana would only be his demise.

  The patrol officer slowly rounded his car and stopped at his window. Desmond politely rolled it down, even though he was tempted to skirt off on his ass. “Afternoon, officer.” Removing his Versace shades, he forced a fabricated smile. “What seems to be the issue?” Desmond just knew he was going to tell him to get the fuck out the car and put his hands behind his back. But the words never came…

  “Afternoon. Did you know your vehicle has expired tags?”

  Desmond inwardly released a sigh of relief. That’s all, he thought. “My apologies. I had no idea. You’re right. I just had a birthday—it completely slipped my mind.”

  “Fortunately, I’m in a good mood today. I’m gonna let you off the hook with a warning, but please take care of that as soon as possible.”

  “I definitely will,” Desmond said graciously.

  The officer tapped the roof of his Porsche twice before walking off towards his cruiser. Switching his gears into drive, Desmond thanked the Lord that the officer didn’t go all LAPD on his ass. He didn’t need those problems—not now.

  Desmond carefully eased back into traffic before taking the next exit on the Interstate. He’d started to go home and regroup, but at the moment he only wanted to see one person.

  Twenty minutes later, Desmond pulled his sports car in front of Kimberlyn’s crib. The lights were on so he knew she was home. After parking, he killed the engine, hopped out, and jogged to the front door where he knocked a few times.

  There was brief shuffling on the other end. Knowing Kim she was probably trying to straighten up before she answered. As soon as she did, Desmond eagerly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her body towards his. He was desperate for her affection, for her touch, for her company. Coming so close to being arrested, he couldn’t fathom the thought of never seeing her again.