Page 14 of Gang of Roses: Dice

We hopped in the truck. Kodak was dead over a seventy-five-thousand-dollar loan. To some people, seventy-five grand was life-changing money. To me, it wasn’t even worth the headache he brought upon himself. Money had never been Kodak’s problem; discipline was.

A man who’ll dodge one payment will dodge ten. A man who keeps making excuses eventually runs out of people willing to hear them.

That was a lesson Kodak learned too damn late.

Still, I wasn’t about to have a four-hundred-million-dollar net worth anywhere near this bullshit once somebody noticed the smoke rolling through these woods. Good thing Kodak kept his little hideout tucked nearly an hour outside Magnolia Valley. His nearest neighbor would’ve needed binoculars just to know he was home.

Bronco shifted the SUV into drive, gravel crunching beneath the tires as we pulled away from the crime scene. Within minutes, the burning cabin disappeared behind rows of towering pines while the smoke slowly blended into the afternoon sky.

We headed towards the airport while thoughts of G-Baby occupied my mind way too much, but what she didn’t bank on was having a tail attached…I was gonna find that ass, one way or another.

Call me crazy, but it was more than sexual; it felt soul-tying. A piece of me felt off, and I didn’t like it because I couldn’t explain it. Two years later, that woman was still on my mind.

Damn, maybe I should let it go?… But something is pulling me, though. I moved off instinct, and when it started to whisper to me… I listen.

Chapter 2

Global “Dice” Jamerson

Everything felt like déjà vu…the ride, the heaviness settling in my chest, the silence that always seemed to accompany loss. You would think losing one of your own would get easier after a while, that grief would eventually run out of places to settle, but I had learned the hard way that pain never cared about what you had already survived. It always found a new wound to call home.

I had lost so much over the years that most people assumed I had mastered the art of carrying it. The truth was I had simply gotten better at hiding it. Losing Rose wasn’t just another loss to add to the pile. It was reopening wounds I had spent years convincing myself had finally healed.

To the world, I was Dice.

Dice was the name, the reputation, the armor I wore whenever life demanded more strength than I felt capable of giving. She was the woman people expected to see, unshakable, fearless, impossible to break. The full-face makeup, fire-engine-red hair, the six-inch heels, the designer labels, the always-done-up BBB, also known as Big, Beautiful, and Black. BBW was universal, tailored to any plus-size woman, but BBB, that was our shit.

But Global was different.

Global was the version of me I kept tucked away from the world, revealing her only to a select few. He knew a part of Global, he felt a part of Global, and he damn sure witnessed her tears while I rode his morning wood, trying to forget the part where my heart ached.

I’m glad he didn’t push for answers. He literally stroked me through my pain. No words; he just lifted my heavy bottom and matched my rhythm while I silently moaned, and my tears escaped.

I never gave enough of myself for anyone to truly know me. Some called it being private. Others called it being guarded. Maybe they were both right.

All I knew was that somewhere along the way, protecting my peace had started to look a lot like protecting my pain.

The curves down Shadowstone Mountain were like riding down a big ass go-kart track with no guardrails, just hoping and praying yo’ ass made it up and down safely. Maybe I was being a bit dramatic, but this daredevil shit was not my idea of fun.

Drag race anytime, but a death trap absolutely the fuck not!

But for her, I would take this ride.

This was Rose’s favorite route, and I had to do this for her; hell, I had to do this for me. I pushed my black-and-red MTT-420RR, aka Badass Bessie, around the steep curves, having to give enough gas to carry all this ass and weight I toted.

I leaned Bessie into another sharp curve, feeling the machine respond beneath me like she had a mind of her own. The mountain wind whipped against my leather cut, tugging at the curls trying to spill from beneath my helmet while the heels of my boots rested firmly on the pegs.

Being a big girl on a bike like this required understanding physics. I couldn’t rely on my weight the way smaller women might. Each lean served a purpose. Every movement of my hips was significant. Hesitate too much, and the mountain would dominate me; if my confidence was too high, it could overpower me. This wasn’t my shit, so I was careful but still pushing the limit.

The engine roared as I gave Bessie more gas on the throttle, pushing her to carry every inch of woman I was through the turn. The bike dipped low, my heart pounding, and for a brief moment, it felt like I was flying instead of riding.

Rose loved coming to these mountains so much that I didn’t think twice about purchasing a home up here when one came open. Pulling onto my road, the beautiful four-bedroom, four-bathroom modern-style cabin came into view. The secret I held in these mountains would have me plastered on a T-shirt and finally have Kash and Rebel’s stubborn asses’ attention. I really was missing my sisters like crazy.

Killing my engine, I started to climb off Bessie, using all the energy I had left to throw these big ass thunder thighs over. I had been riding for so long, I felt stuck. Hearing the front door open, I knew my cousin was about to start his shit.

“Bitchhhh what the fuck?”

“Coca, don’t start wit’ me,” I fussed, but I knew that only served as an invitation to continue.