REMMIAH ‘REMMIE’ LeROUX
Remmie stared at the two outfits laid out across her bed trying to decide which one to wear to the derby. Her dear old friend Carlyone had called her about handling some business, but she had to be cute in the process in case someone that knew her saw her. On the left, a soft pink, knee-length bodycon skirt and white crop top, and on the right, a tight-fitting multi-colored dashiki dress that would hug the curves of her BBW body perfectly. She had to make a great impression for her first time seeing Breeze after so many years.
Remmie’s father was a French Louisiana creole with familial ties to the state. He didn’t like the path that his daughter was taking growing up in the public housing projects of Cincinnati, so he left and moved back to get help from other family members raising her since he was a single father. Eight years later, she was back in Cincinnati and ready to start a new life with Breeze, the one she let get away because she was too shy then to act on her feelings. Remmie settled for the fitted dashiki dress before heading south of the city toward Louisville, Kentucky.
“Remmiah LeRoux done grew up and out,” Carlyone volunteered with an emphasis on the word “and” when he saw Remmie strutting in his direction. She was far from the sixteen-year-old girl with no ass and no titties that they once knew. She now had full titties, voluptuous hips, thick thighs, and a fat ass to match. Her deep brown skin made her look like a goddess in the African print attire that hugged her curves, along with the black natural curly tresses that crowned her head and pretty face.
“You better know it brother,” Remmie chirped as she embraced Carlyone with a hug upon seeing him.
She had to admit, Carlyone was looking mighty fine himself, but Carlyone wasn’t who she was checking for.
“Where my nigga at?” Remmie inquired of Breeze’s whereabouts.
“He working. Got eyes on the problem I called you down here for.”
Remmie’s eyes widened as she became alert to the drama that was obviously unfolding. She saw the opportunity as her time to shine and win over Breeze’s heart. She knew that he was still very much a street nigga, and she wanted to be his ride or die.
“What’s good, Carly? Talk to me?”
“You know ya boy and me out here in these streets heavy. Ain’t shit changed,” Carlyone began talking and walking at the same time with Remmie in tow. “We hit a power lick. It solidified shit for us. You missed a lot, Remmie,” Carlyone continued. “Long story short, a nobody ass nigga name Spazz tried to take us up top, and Breeze just seen him. You know I’m thinking he on some bullshit, so I gotta get on my bullshit too.”
“That’s the Carlyone I know.” Remmie chuckled. “You right. Ain’t shit changed. I’m ready, though. Where the nigga at?”
With those last four words, Remmie pulled a forty-five caliber from inside the bright red leather hobo bag that she carried to match the red that was blended with the other colors in her dress.
“Damn, Remmie! I see a lot has changed with you, though,” Carlyone spoke of her carrying a gun in her purse, and the way that her body had developed over the years.
“Nigga, guess who here to assist us today?” Carlyone was on the phone with Breeze again. “Yes, nigga, and she fine as hell. Where that nigga Spazz at, though?” Carlyone got right to the business.
“He headed that way now,” Breeze replied.
Less than a minute later, Carlyone spotted Spazz as he moved in front of Remmie to keep from being seen at the crowded event.
“The nigga that’s walking behind you right now is the nigga,” Carlyone informed Remmie.
She did a sexy little spin as if she was showing off her ensemble to an admirer. She stole a quick peek of the man in question as she did so.
“Black Owned shirt?” Remmie asked of the man’s Cincinnati-based clothing line to make sure she had the right guy.
“That’s him,” Carlyone answered once their faces met again. “He’s a threat to us, Remmie baby. Breeze will love you for eliminating the threat for us.”
Remmie low key didn’t appreciate how Carlyone was the one calling all the shots and giving her orders. She had no problem helping the team, more so Breeze specifically, however, Carlyone didn’t deserve to be the man in her eyes—Breeze did. And she didn’t appreciate how Carlyone was using him to butter her up into getting the nigga that obviously had him pissing his pants and shaking in his Air Jordan Retro 3’s. She would deal with that later.
“Say less, Carly,” Remmie replied before strutting away like she didn’t just confirm plans to kill, or attempt to kill, a whole human being.
“Hey, you. Don’t I know you?” Remmie approached the man that Carlyone said was Spazz.
She knew that she didn’t know him but figured that it was a good way to get his attention. And looking the way that she was looking, she was definitely going to get it.
“Hell nah, but you can get to know me fine as you are,” Spazz concluded.
Remmie flashed a flirtatious smile as she began to run her manicured nails across the waves that decorated his thick, dark hair. If Remmie didn’t know how to do shit else, she knew how to flirt, fuck, and finesse—in that order.
“Well, I don’t want to get to know you. You fine as hell too, and I really just wanna suck ya dick like it’s a Willy Wonka Never-ending Gobstopper,” Remmie informed, referencing the jaw breaker candy that changed colors and lasted a long time when sucked.
She peeked down at the crotch of the man’s Tru Religion brand denim shorts for his reaction and just as expected, what she said had turned him the fuck on. That was all that she needed to see.
“You alone? You got a car somewhere?” Remmie quizzed Spazz.
Without giving a verbal answer, he grabbed her by the hand and led her off into the crowd. She looked back and winked at Carlyone, who had been watching from a distance with a smile on his face. Within a few minutes, Remmie and Spazz were climbing into the backseat of his much older model Toyota Corolla. She could see why the seemingly broke nigga wanted to use Breeze and Carlyone for his next come up. He was living out of the vehicle. She noticed there were clothes, food, and hygiene products everywhere.
“Pull that dick out. Lemme see that dick,” Remmie demanded.
She had planned on sucking his dick just to blow his mind before she blew his brains out. She was one of the best dick suckers she knew, and the man attached to every dick that she ever sucked would agree. However, this nigga was clearly a bum, fronting like he had it like that, and he probably hadn’t washed his ass and balls in days, so she passed on that idea. And she was glad that she did because as soon as he unzipped his shorts and pulled his dick out, Remmie smelled the aroma of moth balls and old, stale popcorn. She was disgusted and pissed that Spazz was just going to let her suck his dirty, funky dick. That gave her more of a reason to shoot his trifling ass.
“I’m glad that you parked so far away from the park like you did,” Remmie noticed, knowing that it was only because he didn’t want to be seen living the bum life, and his windows were tinted as well.
“Why you say that, shorty?” Spazz queried just before Remmie sent a bullet through its chamber on the gun and into his groin area.
The man screamed in agony, allowing her to put the barrel of her gun into his mouth since it was wide open. She surveyed the area surrounding the car for any random folks that may have been looking for free parking no matter how far the walk was.
“You were just going to let me put my sensitive ass mouth on that dirty dick, wasn’t you?”
Spazz’s eyes seemed to be pleading with her for mercy. Remmie didn’t care at all. She didn’t owe this man shit but owed Breeze, Carlyone, and Sadiiq, God rest his soul, everything. It was now or never to prove herself and her worth to Breeze. She pulled the trigger once more as brain matter and blood decorated the back seats. Remmie made a hasty exit as she retrieved her cell phone to call and report the robbery in which the gun was stolen. At least that’s what the story would be when the police came across his body and ballistics led to her and her gun. She couldn’t be held responsible for what happened after her gun was stolen. And of course, her fingerprints were on there because it was her gun. Remmie wasn’t new to this, she was true to this. Her next phone call would be to Breeze.
