As if suddenly remembering something, Lauren rummaged through the bookbag. Her smile was joyful as she removed a sandwich bag filled with white powder. Jayla narrowed her eyes at the cocaine. She had never seen it before up close, but now it was all too clear what was wrong with this girl. She seemed to start drooling as she opened the bag.
Lauren stuck her nose in the opening of the bag and took a huge whiff. She let out a satisfied sigh. After dipping her thumb inside the bag, she raked it across the drug and wiped her thumb across her gumline. The gesture left a powdery residue on each nostril and her upper lip. She licked the remaining powder off her thumb before she continued. “Anyway, when I finally worked up enough nerve to just come over and kill you, you weren’t there. But your sister was.”
Jayla’s vision blurred. Her shoulder and her head were pulsing with agonizing pain, but she tried her best to focus.
“So after we talked—”
“Wait.” Jayla blinked, replaying the words. “You talked to my sister?”
Lauren stopped in her tracks. “Yeah. I told her all about you and your little profession. Let her listen to the tape and everything.”
“But . . .” Jayla squinted past the haze that silhouetted the woman’s frame. She wasn’t making sense. “She said you broke in. She said she was trying to run from you and fell down the stairs.”
Lauren frowned. “No. She answered the door. I asked where you were, and she said you weren’t there. I told her who I was and that I was looking for you to talk more about our business arrangement. When she said she didn’t know what I was talking about, I told her everything. We talked for a long while, and I told her about all the stuff you did. Your sister said you probably had an office upstairs, so we were headed up there, and that’s when she tripped and fell down. I panicked because, hell, I had a damn gun in my bag. So I left.”
Jayla sighed as the pieces clicked together one by one. That was why there was no sign of a forced entry. That was why nothing had been ransacked. That was why Jocelyn couldn’t give many details about the incident.
A knock on the door had Jayla’s head whipping around. Her heart lifted. She opened her mouth to yell for help, but Lauren pointed the gun in her direction, and Jayla snapped her mouth shut real quick.
“Don’t play with me, bitch,” Lauren growled as she backed up toward the door, keeping her eyes and the gun fixed on Jayla.
Damn. Having a studio with everything out in the open couldn’t buy her any time, Jayla realized. She held her breath as she watched Lauren cross the room and take a quick glance in the peephole, praying that whoever it was didn’t leave. She heard Lauren’s flirty giggle as she swung open the door.
Jayla’s heart sank when Marcus stepped in and leaned down to kiss her wildly.
Lauren snatched her lips from his and looked at Jayla with a devilish grin as he licked her face and groped her titties. “You see,” Lauren gloated. “He’s mine. I told you he was mine, didn’t I?”
Jayla watched in disgust as Lauren kept the gun aimed at her while Marcus removed her titties from her shirt and began licking her nipples. She stared boldly at Jayla, a satisfied smirk on her lips, as she was clearly enjoying how the entire scene was playing out. At one point, Marcus even bit her nipple, and Jayla winced as Lauren moaned from the sensation. Then he yanked down her jeans, lifted one of her slender legs onto his shoulder, and began loudly slurping and sucking her hairy pussy.
“Yes, Marcus!” Lauren quivered as Marcus pulled on a pussy lip with his teeth. He then massaged the sore area with his tongue. “Let me cum all over your tongue, baby.”
Marcus sat down, and Lauren squatted over his face, giving Jayla a full view of her kitty as it spread when she widened her legs. She squatted over his face like a frog, and Jayla shut her eyes against the image. Marcus had stiffened his tongue, and Lauren proceeded to bounce on it like it was a dick, gasping at the rising orgasm.
“Watch,” Lauren barked, and fear had Jayla lifting her lids. She still managed to keep that gun aimed perfectly, her finger hovering over the trigger. Marcus could have cared less where he was or who was watching.
Marcus moved on to her ass, leaving her pussy wet and swollen. She ground so his tongue was deep in the crack of her ass, and she proceeded to bounce once again when he darted it in her hole.
The entire scene had Jayla’s stomach turning all the way over.
Lauren released a moist fart, and Marcus proceeded to sniff it. Fucking nutcase. He even opened his mouth over her hole, as if he were eating the rank odor, and then he resumed polishing her asshole. She released another, and he moaned his approval and kept cleaning her asshole with his tongue. Then he was back to her pussy.
With one scream, Lauren released a squirt of cum directly into Marcus’s open mouth. He gargled, swallowed, and resumed licking her pussy until the shit was glistening. Lauren laughed hysterically as she lost her balance and fell to her knees, completely weakened from the bust.
“Shit, boy,” she said, giggling. She was still giggling when she struggled to stand up.
Jayla was fearful the bitch would accidently pull the trigger.
Lauren angled the gun at her again and smirked. “Damn. Did yours feel like that?”
Jayla wasn’t sure if she really expected her to answer, so she stayed quiet.
“You wanna taste my girl?”
Marcus’s question had Jayla shrinking back, even as he made his way over to the bed.
“No, please,” she whimpered.
He grabbed her by her throat and squeezed, startling her mouth open at the pinching pain. Sure enough, he shoved his tongue in her mouth. Jayla gagged as she tasted the bitter flavor of Lauren’s nasty pussy, but he kept assaulting her with his tongue and holding her throat, so she had no choice but to take it all. She choked, struggled not to swallow, but she silently cried as she felt the liquid sliding down her throat.
When he was sure Jayla’s lips and tongue were completely saturated, he gave her face a slap. “Better?” he asked.
Jayla coughed, gagged, and spit out as much of the aftertaste as she could.
“That was fun,” Lauren said. “Now let’s get this over with. It took me a minute to think about how I wanted to do this, and I think it’s best if we stage the whole robbery thing. Like, maybe we came in while you were sleeping and shot you. So lay down.” She said it so calmly, in such a calculated manner.
Jayla tensed once more. It was all coming to an end. Maybe if she stalled....
“My sister lost her baby,” Jayla murmured. “She committed suicide.”
Lauren didn’t appear fazed. “I’m glad it looked that way. Lay down,” she repeated, using the gun to motion to the bed once more.
Jayla opened her mouth to ask what she meant but closed it again as she felt the sadness beginning to choke her. “Did you kill my sister?” she whispered.
Lauren sneered. “You said yourself it looked like she committed suicide,” she said. “That’s all that fucking matters. But, damn, we did have a time getting her up there. She was a fighter. Huh, Marcus?”
“Hell yeah,” he agreed. “Especially when I was fucking her brains out.”
Jayla gasped for air as her cries erupted. Not her baby sister. Her nephew was bad enough. But to rape and kill Jocelyn? The pain was excruciating. “Why?” she mumbled between sobs.
Lauren actually frowned at the question, as if the answer was obvious. “The bitch was going to tell you everything,” she said. “At first, she was cool with us coming after you, once I told her all about your little business with Marcus. Said to ‘do what we gotta do.’ Said she was going to stay out of the way, because that’s what you deserved.”
“Of course, we didn’t tell her we were going to kill you,” Marcus chimed in, chuckling. “Just have a little fun. Hell, she even fed us a little information about some of the places you were supposed to be, so we could watch you.”
Jayla listened to each word, the bitter truth like multiple stab wounds being inf
licted. Betrayal. Damn. Patricia once said, you can’t trust anybody in this business. She’s right.
“But then she started getting all sensitive and shit. ‘Don’t hurt my sister. I love her,’ yada yada. That day y’all went wedding-dress shopping, we followed you to her place and tried to talk some damn sense into her. She kept saying she was going to tell you who we were and go to the police. So like she said, we did what we had to do. But it doesn’t matter.” Lauren pointed to the bed. “You’ll be wherever she is shortly, so you two can hash that shit out then. Lie the fuck back. Now.”
Jayla obeyed, scooting back and watching Lauren’s brow wrinkle as she appeared to consider something.
“Marcus, help her get under the covers,” she said next. “Make it look like she was really sleeping when she was shot.”
Marcus stooped to snatch the covers over her body, and Jayla lashed out, connecting a fist with the man’s jaw. He doubled back, grabbing his face. He glared at Jayla, and his fist connected to her eye so fast, she saw stars. Seething pain had Jayla moaning as her vision wavered, then darkened from the trauma of the impact. She squinted through the tinted haze, trying her best to focus on the deranged woman still positioned at the foot of her bed.
“You fucking bitch!” Lauren yelled, extending her arm to point the gun at Jayla’s head. “Stop fighting, or I’ll shoot you right now!”
“Lauren, please,” Jayla pleaded, not bothering to hide the tears. “Don’t do this. I swear I don’t do it anymore, because . . .”
The move was swift. Lauren lowered her arm to Jayla’s leg and pulled the trigger, sending the bullet to pierce her flesh. Jayla’s scream erupted as a sharp pain reverberated through her thigh. Blood seeped from the wound, dribbled like warm honey down her leg, and pooled on the sheets. Jayla sucked in a greedy breath. She clenched her teeth, struggling to numb the fiery sensation. Lauren immediately began licking the blood off Jayla’s leg, while Jayla began passing out from the gunshot wound.
“Now lay back.” Lauren was calm again.
Gritting her teeth, Jayla leaned back on the headboard. She felt the dead weight of her leg. She could count each ridge in the headboard as it grated her back. The rich smell of blood was suffocating, and she could almost taste it. Jayla’s vision wavered once more, but through the haze of tears and the blur, she saw Lauren’s brooding smirk and bloodstained lips. As she watched Lauren’s finger stroke the trigger, she let her heavy lids drift close. Jayla knew someone must have heard the gun firing and would come to aid her. These were all just dreams.
Jayla saw herself with Derrick. She was on his back, her arms clasped around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, as he ran across the sandy Bahamas beach. He murmured something inaudible before spinning her around. Her laugh. When was the last time she had laughed? Her laugh echoed in harmony with the crashing of waves at their back, and she kissed him. Love. She clung to the sensation with everything in her power.
When Jayla opened her eyes, she saw Lauren’s face, but slowly, as if she were watching a movie, the face transposed until it was her own face. Staring back with that malicious grin. And she was pointing the gun. Jayla watched the lips move, her lips, even though it was Lauren’s voice that came out.
“You know how much I’m going to enjoy killing you?” she said.
Jayla couldn’t die. She couldn’t give up. Not yet. She wanted to go to Paris. She wanted to get married. She wanted to have a normal life. Not like this. She remembered when she sat in the bathroom at Patricia’s, the edge of the razor pressed against her wrist, trying to come up with reasons why she shouldn’t end it all right then and there. That was why she had put the razor down, without so much as a nick on her skin. She needed to live.
Jayla didn’t bother thinking. Only reacting. With a burst of renewed energy, she grabbed the remote at her side and hurled it at Lauren. Instinct had Lauren dodging the device, and Jayla took that opportunity to grab the bedside lamp and heave it in her direction. It shattered across Lauren’s arm, and the impact had her finger slipping on the trigger. A shot rang out, and the bullet penetrated Marcus’s chest, sending a burst of blood from the hole. His eyes bulged as he collapsed onto his knees.
Jayla mustered as much energy as she could to lift herself from the bed and dive, shoulder first, at Lauren, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Jayla gasped as she narrowly missed the side of her dresser. The connection with the floor sent shock waves of pain coursing through her body, but she couldn’t think about the pain. Only survival. She needed to live.
She watched Lauren climb to her knees, her eyes darting around the floor for the gun.
“I’m going to kill your ass, bitch!” she said.
Jayla watched a calculated move play on her face first before she lunged at Jayla, her hands outstretched toward her neck. Jayla kicked, and her bare foot connected with Lauren’s face. Even as blood spewed from her mouth, Lauren lunged again and managed to grab Jayla by the throat. Her fingers were like a vise as they squeezed her throat.
Shit, Lauren was strong. Jayla sputtered as she tried to take a deep breath. Or maybe Jayla was just weak. Her hands came up to grab Lauren’s wrists, and Jayla struggled to loosen the forceful grip on her throat. Her head was heavy, and the edges of her vision began to fade. Lauren had somehow managed to maneuver on top of her, and she now stared down at her, murder in her eyes, blood seeping from her clenched teeth to dribble onto Jayla’s face.
Jayla’s engagement ring flashed on her finger. Her life boat. She collected what little shred of strength she had left, gripped Lauren’s black ponytail, which was dangling in her face, and yanked. The force of the pull had Lauren’s head veering to one side, and it collided with a sickening thud against the side of the dresser.
“Shit!” Lauren hissed as pain snaked through her head from the impact. Her grip on Jayla’s throat loosened just enough for Jayla to take a deep drag of air before she yanked again. This time, the impact left a bloodstain on the oak wood, and Jayla watched Lauren’s eyes roll. More blood spilled from the side of her head and trickled down her cheek, like a stream of tainted tears.
Jayla was weak, and she struggled to maintain her grip on Lauren’s hair, but the girl was fast. Gravity accelerated the movement as she slammed her forehead into Jayla’s still bruised jaw, reigniting the surge of pain. Jayla squeezed her eyes against the ache and felt Lauren shift to reach for something.
The gun. Shit, the gun.
“It’s over. It’s over,” Lauren chanted, like the words were a mantra, her voice almost zombie-like. “It’s fucking over, bitch.”
Jayla opened her eyes just in time to grab Lauren’s wrist as she aimed. The gunshot popped like a firecracker, and the hollow explosion echoed off the empty walls.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A dull ache had Jayla moaning, and her heavy lids ignored her brain as it willed them to lift. Her head was tight with wrapped bandages. Every stiff muscle, every bone, every cell in her body felt like it was being squeezed with pliers and immersed in scalding hot water.
Disoriented, she managed to open her eyes into narrow slits. The room was blurry at first, before slowly coming into focus. She saw the stale blue couch, heard the beeping and humming of various machines, saw the needles embedded in her arm as it rested, lifeless, on the starched white sheet. Her encased leg was elevated in a sling suspended from the tile ceiling. Jayla didn’t bother trying to move; she just lay there, waiting for what felt like death to take over.
The door opened, and Jayla couldn’t even muster the energy to smile when she saw Patricia ease through, an elaborate flower arrangement in her arms.
“I was hoping to get back before you woke up.” She spoke in a hushed voice as she walked over to the bedside. “The nurse said you were kind of in and out.” Patricia sat the bouquet on the table and rubbed Jayla’s arm. “How are you feeling?”
Jayla grunted in response, and Patricia nodded in understanding.
“I’m sure you’re weak. Here
.” She grabbed a Styrofoam cup from the counter and angled the bendy straw to Jayla’s lips.
Jayla took an appreciative sip, and the warm water almost stung as it dribbled down her raw throat.
“Better?”
Jayla groaned. The pain was excruciating. Almost numbing.
“I thought you said you were going to call me when you got home, Puma,” Patricia teased.
Jayla’s lips twitched with the humor, but she didn’t even have the strength to smile.
“How . . . ?” The word came out in a raspy gush of forced air, and Jayla could only breathe at the intense energy it had taken just to utter that. The subsequent pain had her closing her eyes. She felt Patricia’s reassuring pat.
“From what I was told, your neighbors called the police when they heard the commotion and the sound of gunfire. They found you both on the floor. Both of y’all were passed out cold. Apparently, she woke up in the ambulance, mumbling something about a sex business. But she passed out again. By the time they got you both here, she was dead. Doctors said blunt-force trauma caused brain swelling.”
Jayla released a sigh, and her chest tightened from the gesture. Damn. Talk about a crazy turn of events.
“What about Marcus?” she whispered.
Patricia frowned. “Who?”
Jayla’s throat felt clogged, and she struggled to clear it.
“There was a guy there,” she breathed. “Marcus.”
Patricia shook her head. “There were only two of you, Puma,” she said gently. “Just you and another girl.”
Jayla squeezed her eyes shut, the fear bubbling up to sting her chest once more. She swallowed and gasped at the pain. Where the hell was Marcus?
“He must have run off,” Jayla said, swallowing another wave of panic. “We need to find him. He could come back.”
“Ssshh.” Patricia touched Jayla’s face, gently lifted her chin to stare her straight in the eye. “I promise, no one is going to hurt my Puma ever again. I know some people who can find him. You have nothing to worry about.”
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