Players

Chapter 3

"You did WHAT?"

"I know, I know."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"I know."

"You just left them alone in the room with your white bitch?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't take the drugs with you?"

"I know," said Todd.

Avery shook his head. "Player, I can't help you with that. You know the
twins love that shit."

Todd looked at the ground. "Can you talk to them at least?"

"Shit."

"I tried to call them, but they won't answer."

"Golly gee! I wonder why not!"

"Do you know where they might be?"

"I know exactly where they might be."

Todd looked at Avery. "Where?"

"In some random motel room getting fucked up on your dope, that's where they
might be. Look, Player. This is your own damn fault. That shit's gone, and
it ain't coming back. Just be glad they left you the weed. And the white
boy."

"Yeah. At least they didn't take him."

"Of course they didn't take him. One less person to share your shit with."

Todd sighed. "This sucks."

Avery shrugged.

"Well, can you sell us some more?" asked Todd.

Avery looked surprised but nodded, "I got a little bit left."

Todd handed him some bills.

"Player," said Avery. "You don't have to do that. Wait 'til I come back with
the shit."

"Okay," said Todd, accepting the bills back from Avery.

"Damn," said Avery. "That must be some good ass. You boys are spending a
fortune tonight."

"It's the best. Sure you don't want some?"

Avery shook his head. "I don't swing that way. Not like Dex."

"Who's Dex?"

"My cousin. And my business partner."

Avery paused.

"Wait a second," Avery said. "Give me those damn bills."

Todd handed him the money.

"I got an idea," said Avery.

* * *

The rest of the night was a blur. At least it was for Michael. The others
were more acutely tuned to their sensations.

Avery came by in the middle of things. Todd told him he didn't have money,
so Avery "fronted" him the drugs.

Well, Avery seemed to front him the drugs.

Avery doesn't front drugs.

But the white boy didn't know that.

It was a good night for the boys, one of their better ones. After they
dropped Michael off at his car in the morning with a glaze in his eyes, a
wobble in his walk, and a growing wet spot on his pants seat, they did the
math:

Todd had cum three times.

T.J. had cum twice.

Darius had cum four times.

Not a perfect "ten" (that had only happened once before, with that guy from
Argentina), but a very respectable "nine."

(3+2+4=9)

And the white boy had gotten his two bonuses from the twins. Thieving
crackhead motherfuckers.

Plus one mouthful from Avery. But mouthfuls didn't count.

"If T.J. had done one more, we'd have a ten," said Todd.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said T.J.

"Didn't do his part," said Darius.

"Whatever," said T.J. "I still say we should base it on amount."

"Good luck," said Todd. "I'll let you handle the measurements."

Todd's phone rang. He looked at the display, "It's Avery," he said, and
answered it.

"Player!" said Todd, "Tell me something good!"

They talked some more, and Todd hung up the phone.

"It's on," he said.

"When?" asked Darius.

"Next Saturday at Dex's house. We're all invited."

"Cool," said T.J. "When do we start on the white boy?"

"Tomorrow," said Darius. "He needs his rest today."

* * *

The houseboy padded across the marble floor of the living room and brought
Dexter his pina colada. The houseboy did know how to make a killer pina
colada.

Dressed only in a tight neon speedo that showed his bubble butt and caramel
skin to good effect, the houseboy perched on the sofa armrest and began
massaging Dexter's neck as he sipped on the drink and flipped through the
channels of the massive flat screen television that comprised the opposite
wall. It was a new acquisition, and the picture quality was simply
exquisite.

Dexter was going casual this afternoon, wearing flip-flops, a loose-fitting
boxer-type swimsuit, and a guayabara shirt. The shirt was open, showing
Dex's broad chest, slightly (ever so slightly) softening belly, and matted
salt-and-pepper chest hair.

Dexter pressed a button on the remote, and one of his favorite pornos
flashed across the screen.

He grimaced and pressed another button to make it go away.

"I guess some things weren't made for high-def," he sighed.

He turned to the houseboy, "Which reminds me. I need you to get things ready
for a party next weekend. We're having some company."

The houseboy nodded.

"It'll be the usual sized crowd. Check the liquor stock to make sure we have
enough of everything."

The houseboy nodded again.

"Oh, and another thing," said Dexter. "We'll need to set up the camera in
the master bedroom."

* * *

Avery glowered at the twins. They bowed their heads in embarrassment.

"You stupid motherfuckers!" he bellowed.

They said nothing. There was nothing to say.

Avery rubbed his face with one hand in exasperation. He turned to them
again.

"If you EVER do something like that again to one of MY customers, I'LL BLOW
YOUR FUCKING HEADS OFF! I SWEAR!"

They were silent. But relieved. It meant that he wasn't going to blow their
fucking heads off this time.

"Darius and Todd are good people to me. They didn't deserve to be burned
like that."

Finally, Maurice spoke. "We're sorry."

"Shit! Now you're sorry! This is bad for business."

"We'll make it up to them."

"Damn straight you will! I just need to figure out how."

* * *

Michael slept all the next day and following night. He woke up at nine in
the morning to the sounds of his telephone ringing.

It was Darius.

"Baby, how are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm alright," said Michael. "I've been sleeping." He felt a cool sensation
between his legs. There was a wet spot on the bed under him.

Darius continued, "Well, I'm glad to hear that my baby got some rest."

"I needed it."

"So did I," said Darius. "That was an incredible time. You really won our
hearts."

"That was definitely a new experience."

"What are you doing today?"

"Nothing. I called in sick at work."

"Why don't we get a late breakfast?"

"Okay."

"I'll pick you up in an hour."

They had breakfast at a little cafe off the strip. It was nice.

There really wasn't much to talk about, so Darius mainly just purred sweet
nothings most of the time.

Then his phone rang, and the sweet nothings stopped.

"Don't worry, Player," he said into the phone. "You'll get your money."

Darius's expression had changed. Something seemed seriously wrong. Michael
could hear someone yelling on the other end of the phone.

"We're working on it," Darius said. "Give us a few days. It's alot of money
for us. But don't worry. We'll do the right thing. You'll get paid."

More yelling from the other end of the phone.

"Okay," said Darius. "You'll get it by Saturday." A note of barely
suppressed panic edged into his voice.

Darius closed the phone. The person on the other end had hung up him.

"Who was that?" asked Michael.

"That was Avery," said Darius. "He was just calling to check on something."

They hung out on the strip together the rest of the morning, window
shopping. It was a gorgeous day, sunny, but with just enough cool in the air
to make it feel perfect.

Darius seemed preoccupied, though. He dropped Michael back at his place at
noon.

Michael got out of the car and went around to the driver's side. They
exchanged a quick kiss.

"Is everything all right?" asked Michael. "You seem worried about
something."

"I'm cool," said Darius. "It's just that Avery gave us those special
cigarettes on credit, and we need to figure out a way to pay him."

"He sounded angry."

Darius waved it off. "We'll work it out."

"How?"

"I don't know yet," said Darius. "But we'll work it out. We have to."

"Well, I hope it all works out," said Michael.

"It has to work out," said Darius. "It will be seriously bad if it doesn't
work out."

* * *

The rest of the week was uneventful, for the most part. Michael went to work
the next day at the video rental place. Darius called him each day on his
cell phone to give him his daily dose of sweet nothings.

On Wednesday evening, Michael was working the late shift. He was at the back
of the store restocking the shelves with returned movies.

"Hey! Don't I know you?"

Michael looked up from his position at one of the lower shelves.

It was the drug dealer with the dreadlocks.

Michael sat there stunned, not saying anything.

"Yeah," said the guy. "I do know you. You're that white boy from the motel."

Michael blushed and nodded.

"That was some good head," the guy said, just a bit too loudly for Michael's
comfort. "You've got skills."

"Thank you," Michael said quietly. He was very uncomfortable in this
situation.

The man leaned down towards Michael and said under his breath:

"But cocksucking doesn't pay my bills, white boy. You kids owe me some
serious money. I'd better see it on Saturday, or there will be
consequences."

Michael froze, terrified. He stared blankly into the bookshelf.

"American currency," the man said. "Paper."

He turned to leave.

"You can't suck your way out of this one, white boy" he said, and then he
was gone.

* * *

"How much do we owe him?" asked Michael. He and Darius were sitting on the
steps in front of Michael's apartment.

"Seven hundred dollars."

Shit. That was alot of money.

"Well, how much do you guys have?"

"Not enough." Darius sighed and looked out in the street. "Can you help?"

"A little bit."

"How little?"

"Less than a hundred."

"Shit. We're screwed. That leaves us four hundred dollars short."

"It's all I have," said Michael. "I work at a video store. I don't make much
money."

"I know, Baby. It's not your fault."

"What will he do if he doesn't get his money?"

Darius made a gesture across his throat with his forefinger.

"Oh, God!"

Darius nodded. "It's bad."

"What do we do?"

"We need to lay low until we can get enough money to pay him back."

"He knows where I work."

"I know. That's a bad break. And he knows where Todd and I live."

"I can't believe this is happening," said Michael. "This is a nightmare."

"We'll figure something out, Baby," said Darius. "I'm sure we will."

"But it's already Friday!"

"I know, Baby. Believe me, I know."

Darius paused.

"Baby, can I ask a favor?"

"What?"

"Can Todd and I hang out at your place until we get this worked out?"

"Okay."

"T.J.'s still in town, but he can hang out at his sister's house until he
leaves town."

Michael nodded.

Darius continued, "We'll get some groceries tonight so we can lay low. Can
you call in at work?"

"I can for a few days, but not more than that."

"Okay," said Darius, "Then it's a plan. I'll call Todd."

"Okay."

Darius rubbed Michael's back, "And it'll be good to spend a little time with
you, Baby. We'll all have some fun together. Just you, me, and Todd."

Darius punched some numbers into his phone.

"Todd?" he said. "No, we haven't worked it out yet. Michael only has a
little bit...

"Chill, Player. Don't panic. We can stay with Michael until we get it
together."

There was a noise on the street. Michael looked out towards it.

A green metallic Caprice Classic with dark tinted windows was cruising down
the block in front of Michael's apartment at a crawl, its gold rims spinning
out of sync with the movement of the wheels. A powerful bassline
reverberated from a speaker system in the car's trunk, and the body seemed
to rattle with a metallic buzz at each beat.

The car crept past the front of Michael's apartment. The front passenger
window was open, and Michael could see a dreadlocked silhouette behind the
wheel as it moved past them.

"On second thought," said Darius, smiling nervously and waving at the
driver, who was glaring at him. "Scratch that. We can't stay at Michael's
place after all."

The car continued its leisurely journey down the street and disappeared
around the corner.

Darius closed his phone.

"Shit," he said. "We just can't seem to get a fucking break."

* * *

Darius and Michael went into the apartment together. They kissed.

"Baby, let's just relax tonight. We'll work it out," said Darius.

"I'm scared," said Michael.

"So am I," said Darius. "But we still have a little more time."

"Not much," said Michael.

"No," said Darius. "Not much." He held the white boy close to him and kissed
his neck gently. He massaged Michael's back as he did so.

Darius was on cloud nine. This was amazing! He and his crew had never taken
things to this level before. And he couldn't wait to see Dexter's house! He
had heard that it was real nice.

And the white boy was totally falling for it! Avery must have scared the
shit out of him at the video store.

This was too cool. And to top it off, the white boy really was a good piece
of ass. Everybody agreed about that. And Darius owned it, or would own it
soon enough. All his boys would have to stop calling him "Player" and start
calling him "Pimp Player."

Or maybe "Mr. Pimp Player." He liked the "Mr." part. But he suspected his
homies wouldn't let him get away with that. "Pimp Player" still sounded
pretty good, though.

"Baby, I'm so sorry this has happened. My baby doesn't deserve this stress,"
said Darius.

"We'll work it out," said Michael.

"You're so sweet and brave," said Darius.

Darius kissed Michael's neck again and squeezed his butt. This shit was
making him horny as hell. He realized that he hadn't cum in four days.

He kissed Michael gently on the lips. His not-so-little friend (Darius liked
to call it "the Anaconda") was straining inside his pants.

"Baby," Darius purred. "Let's go into the other room and take our minds off
things for a while."

So the three of them (Michael, Darius, and the Anaconda) went into the
bedroom to take their minds off things for the night.