Free Always Unique by Nikki Turner Page B

his head was inches from Unique’s face.
    She raised her head to get closer. Close enough to kiss him if she wanted to. Instead, Unique clamped onto the lobe of Fat Tee’s ear with her teeth. He screamed, “Ouch, bitch,” but she held on like a mother pit bull fighting for her pups. Yanking her head, she tore a chunk of his ear away, kindred to the way Mike Tyson disfigured Evander Holyfield in the ring.
    Fat Tee screeched like a wounded mutt and jerked back, which gave her just enough to—with all the strength in her body—swing her knee upward, Tae-Bo style, toward his petite dick. Praying that size didn’t matter, she felt the softness of his testicles crunch under the hard bone of her kneecap.
    Fat Tee sang in soprano, curling up on his side.
    Unique hurried to her feet before Fat Tee recovered and headed toward a sliver of light, peeking under the bathroom door. She took off toward the light. Her mind quickly ran through her options. She had no time to get dressed, and Fat Tee would be back on his feet at any minute. She either had to flee the hotel room naked and get help, or retrieve the gun from her purse and help herself.
    She was no more than two feet from the light—near freedom—when Fat Tee grabbed her ankle. She tried to stomp his hand with her free foot, but she hit a slippery spot on the floor and her feet skated from beneath her. She lost her balance.
    Regaining his composure, Fat Tee was back on top of her. He slammed his fist into her face so hard she thought she saw the Big Dipper. She raked at his face with her nails. She felt the manicured claws dig into his flesh. She smelled his blood, or maybe it was her own blood—no, she was sure it was his—but Fat Tee kept pounding her with blow after blow until Unique eventually faded to black. When Fat Tee finally stopped, he realized that she wasn’t moving and all he saw was a puddle of blood. He smiled because he never thought in a million years that Unique would ever go out like a blood bitch. He washed his hands and looked at Unique’s lifeless body bleeding out on the floor, and said, “What goes around comes around, bitch.”

 
    UNIQUE II: BETRAYAL

 
    PROLOGUE
    The queen-sized bed took up more than half of the space in the rented seedy hotel room. The other half contained a night table, matching dresser with a mirror, a miniature coffee table, and an armoire that housed a flat-screen TV behind its French-style doors. In the corner was a small dorm-room-sized refrigerator. Fat Tee sat at the old, rickety coffee table, which had seen better days, drinking a Heineken that the fridge had barely kept cold. Fat Tee had thought about getting a room at one of the upscale hotels now that he had a few dollars, but the plus side to staying at Bugley’s Inn was that it was inexpensive by New York standards, and for the most part the people that squatted there were too busy minding their own business to mind his.
    God knows he had enough problems as it was and the last thing he needed was someone up in his business. When Fat Tee had first driven his late model Honda to New York in search of Unique, all he wanted was a little revenge for what she and her ex-boyfriend Took had done to him over seven years ago. After three months of searching the big city’s seedy areas and not locating her, Fat Tee had been ready to call it a waste of time. Then, sitting in this very same room, he saw an ESPN special on Kennard DuVall. The strikingly beautiful woman by Kennard’s side caught his eye as the cameras followed them through their New Jersey mansion. Fat Tee had to do a double and then a triple take. Fat Tee kept telling himself, “Naw, it couldn’t be.” He sat in total silence and studied the woman. It wasn’t until Kennard looked at the woman with a smile of a nigga who had been pussy-whipped and said, “Unique is the love of my life,” that Fat Tee knew for sure.
    Immediately Fat Tee knew that there was only one bitch by that name capable of