Saved By A Kingpin

1

Riley: Murphy’s Law

What the fuck? I cursed to myself as I pulled up to the curbside parking space in front of my house.

Murphy’s Law was in full effect in my life as every single thing that could go wrong, was going horribly wrong.

My shitty night turned into an even worse day once I woke up. My alarm went off forty-five minutes late, I got stuck in traffic, and was almost two hours late for work. In my rush, I forgot my food at home and found myself rushing back to my house on my lunch break so I could at least have something to eat. But my appetite was ruined, and my heart stopped beating in my chest when I pulled up to find all of my shit on the curb.

Wha—what are you doing? I questioned, jumping out of the car faster than I could shut the engine off when I saw a pair of movers carrying my couch out of the wide open front door.

Neither of the men acknowledged me, walking right past me like I wasn’t even standing there talking to them.

Everything became a blur as I tried to take in what was happening around me. These big, buff ass niggas were moving my shit out of my house, without my consent in broad daylight.

Am I being robbed? I thought before quickly dispelling the idea. If it were that simple, I could deal with it, but when I saw my landlord walking out of the house and tossing around instructions to the movers… I knew this shit was serious. It wasn’t a robbery, I was being evicted.

Mr. Harris? I approached the man. My landlord was a handsome older guy who didn’t let the fact that he was married with six kids stop him from hitting on damn near anything with a moist pussy. He was a sleazeball who always made little slick ass comments whenever he saw me. What’s going on?

Glancing over at me, he took the toothpick out of his mouth and chucked it in the grass while he examined my body. The corners of his lips curled upward and the chuckle that escaped his mouth made me quiver. He was a dirty old creep, and it was always uncomfortable being around him.

Emptying the house before the new owners take possession.

It felt like I took a blow to the gut. New owners? Why? What the fuck you mean new owners?

What did I just say? he retorted. "Unless you got the five thousand dollars in back rent you owe, right now, I meant just what I said."

Five thousand dollars? I screeched. I quickly went from scared to flat out pissed that all my stuff was being pulled from my home, and he was talking about putting me out on a mistake? Oh, hell no. I never went shopping, I never ate out, I didn’t get my hair and nails done regularly like most broads my age because I always paid my bills. What the fuck is you talking about five thousand dollars in back rent? My rent ain’t behind. You got me fucked up.

Oh, yes, it is! And I been calling your little boyfriend trying to set up a payment arrangement so we could avoid this, but I ain’t getting no answer. No answer, no money… you gotta get the hell up out of here.

As soon as he brought Kamel up, I thought I was going to pass out on the front lawn. I was always at work during the business hours of the rental office, so I always gave the money to Kamel. If Mr. Harris hadn’t received five thousand dollars, then that was damn near six months of missed payments. I damn sure didn’t have it, and Mr. Harris never received it. What the fuck did Kamel do with it? Had he really taken my rent money and spent it? And did he spend it on the bitch I caught him in bed with?

You—you can’t put me out. I hyperventilated, clenching my chest. I felt like my head was being held under water and I couldn’t breathe. I… I don’t have anywhere to go.

Taking a large step toward me and entering into my personal space, he asked, Where that sorry ass nigga you always wanted to diss me for at? Maybe you should have got with big daddy and let me take care of you when you had the chance. Then maybe you wouldn’t have these problems.

His suggestion that choosing Kamel to be the man in my life was a bad decision was the realest shit I had ever heard. That’s not to say that Mr. Harris was the first person to tell me that, but hearing it come from his mouth in this moment made it crystal clear.

Well, sorry, sweetheart, you should have thought about that before you skipped out on your responsibility. His voice was condescending as fuck as he chastised me like he was talking to a little ass kid.

Mr. Harris licked his ashy ass lips and that creepy smile of his reemerged when he cupped my chin. Snatching myself from his grip, I took a step back and crossed my arms in front of my chest. The landlord’s downturned eyes were filled with lust, and he bit down on his lower lip.

Now, if you want to go upstairs to the bedroom and work off your debt, maybe I could be persuaded. He grabbed a handful of my ass cheek and gave it a squeeze.

I pushed myself away from him. The tears pooling in my eyes threatened to run down my face, but I refused to let them fall in front of this asshole. I wasn’t going to let him be another nigga who thought he had control over me. I would rather sleep in my car underneath the bridge before I’d fuck your nasty, slimy ass.

Mr. Harris grabbed his crotch and held it both shamelessly and suggestively. Looks like your wish is gonna come true then, bitch. Too bad, I heard it’s supposed to be a chilly night. He laughed before turning his back on me and focusing his attention on the movers. Hurry up and get this shit out of my house.

Fuck you, you dirty ass bastard. I should tell your wife that you fuckin’ around on her. Like I would let your ole limp dick ass get anywhere near this pussy, I yelled.

Typically, I’m a reserved, laid back, and calm kind of woman. I hate confrontation, and I don’t like to draw a lot of attention to myself. But when I get mad… oh, it’s game over.

Whatever, bitch. When you ready to let a real man eat that pussy, then you holla at me. Until then, take yo’ ole homeless ass on somewhere.

I was so embarrassed as I realized that all of my neighbors were starting to take notice of the scene. That’s when I saw him. To add insult to injury, in the midst of all my drama, I locked eyes with the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life standing across the street beside a beautiful black Lamborghini. The foreign car that competed with me for the neighborhood’s attention was parked in front of Mrs. Moore’s house.

Mrs. Moore was the elder statesperson of the neighborhood as its oldest resident, and everyone loved her. She was a sweet old lady who always told it how it was, and I enjoyed talking to her from time-to-time when I wasn’t exhausted after my shift. But even with all the time I had spent at her house, I had never seen this beautiful man before. He was tall, with beautiful golden skin, and strong features.

He was wearing the hell out of a pair of camo shorts and a black V-neck t-shirt that showed off his strong, well-defined forearms that were dripping with tattoo ink. A beautiful timepiece decorated his wrist, and there was a level of confidence that he gave off without even trying. I could tell that he wasn’t just some random nigga, even though he wasn’t doing anything besides standing there.

My focus was taken off the man when I saw the movers carrying the handcrafted glass table that my grandmother had made for me out of the house. That tore me apart more than any of the other bullshit. The table was the last physical memory that was left of my grandmother, and I refused to let it go.

Noooooo, I screamed dramatically, racing over to the men and grabbing at the glass.

What the hell are you doing? one of the movers questioned, staggering backward as I caught them both off guard.

The other one expressed his frustration too, but I didn’t give a fuck. They weren’t taking my table. Mr. Harris could have his raggedy ass house, Kamel could keep the money that he stole from me, but they weren’t taking the table. Let my shit go, I yelled.

Aye bitch, Mr. Harris called behind me until I felt him wrap his arm around my back and pull me into him. Making sure that I felt his hard dick poking at my ass, he tried to pull me away from the furniture that belonged to me.

My skin crawled when his hot breath hit the nape of my neck as he whispered, It looks like you got a lot of aggression you want to get out. Bring yo’ ass in the house with me.

Before I could respond, I felt myself get swooped up quickly in a tussle, only to end up free of Mr. Harris’ grasp and out of the way before I could blink.

Aye, my nigga. Make sure that’s the last time I see you put your hands on the lady. The fine ass man who caught my eye across the street was now checkin’ Mr. Harris’ ass on my behalf. He commanded everyone’s attention immediately with his smooth, yet authoritative, voice. He clearly wasn’t to be fucked with.

Who the fuck you think you is, nigga? Mr. Harris snarled at him in offense. You better take your foolish ass back across that street, playboy, before I fuck you up. Don’t get your shit rocked on behalf of some bitch.

Getting a closer look at the stranger, I noticed that he was even finer when I was able to zoom in on his features. His hair was cut in a low box fade, and his goatee was lined nicely into his scruffy beard. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown, and every time I looked at him I was drawn in. His voice remained calm, but the man’s eyes were smoldering, and his jaw flinched.

Who I am don’t matter, my nigga. The point of this motherfuckin’ conversation is that you don’t put your motherfuckin’ hands on the lady no more.

The lady? Mr. Harris chuckled accusingly. Nigga, get the hell off my lawn before I lay your ass out and make you watch me fuck the dog shit out of this bitch. Since you want to come over here trying to be Captain Save-A-Hoe.

My new Man Crush Monday rolled his neck from side-to-side as if he were fighting the urge to rip Mr. Harris apart. Is that a threat, sir? Because I really don’t take too kindly to threats.

If I was threatening you, youngblood, you would know it. I ain’t the nigga to fuck wit’.

A mocking smirk crossed the stranger’s face. And trust me, Mr. Maurice Harris who is married to Kenyatta Harris and lives on 36278 Westbury Meadows Way out in Lodi, I am not the nigga that you want to have problems with, he said.

I had never seen Mr. Harris seem so shook in his life. The ego he always projected had been replaced by a combination of confusion and fear.

You got kids, right? Six. They go to Columbus Elementary, and two at Thomas Jefferson Middle.

For the first time since I’ve known him, the smug look on Mr. Harris’ face disappeared, and he acted like he was looking at a damn ghost. I don’t know who this mystery man was, but he wielded power like I had never seen before.

Are you threatening my children? He snarled, balling his hands into fists at his side while he stared the guy from across the street down.

My pussy got moist just seeing how unbothered he was by Mr. Harris and his attempt at intimidating him.

Come inside with me for a minute so we can talk business in private, like men.

Up for the challenge, the disgruntled landlord turned on his heels and stomped up the stairs of the front porch and headed for the front door. Mr. Harris was mad, and the handsome stranger was cooler than an ice cube in a snow storm.

I’ll be right back, he told me before he ran up the steps in the same direction as Mr.