The Black Widow Clique

by Genesis Woods

  He looked at Aunt Bree, then back at me. “Okay then. Let’s start with what you remember about the attack. I know you were in a little accident a couple of weeks ago, while you were on your way home from the hospital, and you said that you remember some things. Do you know who it was that attacked you, or can you remember anything about the person who did it?”

  I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths as I tried to remember some of things that had happened that night.

  “I don’t remember the person’s face, because it was covered. But I do remember his eyes and that his lips were real dark.”

  “What do you remember about his eyes?” the detective asked.

  “They weren’t Roman’s.”

  He cocked his head to the side, taking in what I’d just said. “Okay . . . And what about his lips? They were . . . real dark?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

  I nodded my head. “Yes, real dark, as in whoever it was had been smoking weed for a long time. He had those dark spots in the middle of his lips that only smokers get, and his breath smelled like a damn ashtray.”

  “So dark lips, eyes not like Mr. Black’s, and his breath smelled like cigarette smoke. Is there anything else you can remember about this guy? Was he black or white? Tall or short? Skinny or fat?”

  I closed my eyes again and tried to go back to that night. “He had on all black, so he blended into the darkness of the room real good. I remember at one point my body feeling as if it was being tugged and pulled over something that was burning my back. I opened my eyes when I came to at some point and saw a large figure standing over me. I don’t remember if he was tall or short, fat or skinny, but I do remember him raising his hand to hit me, but I blacked out before he did it.” My throat became dry, and when I tried to swallow, I didn’t have an ounce of spit in my mouth. I began to cough. Aunt Bree handed me the water bottle from my bag, and I took a sip. After wetting my throat, I took a deep breath and continued with what I could remember.

  “The next time I came to, it felt as if my body had been ripped apart. Like my flesh was exposed to the cold air, and I could feel the breeze literally in my bones.” My whole body began to shake, and tears began to fill my eyes again. “I tried to move but couldn’t, because there was something heavy on top of me. It wasn’t until I heard and felt his hot breath and heavy breathing against my neck that I knew what was happening. I could feel my body being pushed into forcefully, but with all the other pain going on, it all blended in.” My hands covered my face, and I began to sob uncontrollably. I could feel Aunt Bree hovering over me. When she tried to embrace me, I pushed her away. “I’m okay.... I’m okay, Auntie.” I looked at Detective Lewis. “Who do you think could’ve done this to me? Why do you think they did this to me?”

  “Who and why are what we’re trying to find out right now,” Detective Lewis replied. “You seem pretty positive that Roman Black wasn’t the attacker. Is there anyone you’ve had problems with in the past who may have held a grudge all these years and would want to harm you now?”

  I thought about his question. If truth be told, my list of enemies would be pretty long if some of the family members of my deceased husbands knew what had really caused their deaths. But I doubted any of them were on the list. We were very careful when we did our “marry for money” scams. And with Cowboy on the team, we didn’t worry about anyone finding out too much information about us. Especially when he would change shit up and delete certain things when needed. Then again, the question of why Riana had resurfaced after all these years had been on my mind for the past few weeks. When I received a bouquet of flowers in my room at the hospital, with a card that read I hope you die, I had assumed that they were from her. I had shown Fiona the message and had told her about the little run-in Riana and I had had at Roman’s charity ball, but she had just waved it off and had promised to take care of it before I was due to go home. I didn’t know if Fee had taken care of it or not, but I hadn’t received a bouquet like that since then.

  I pulled at my red- and blue-striped maxi dress and placed my hand on my stomach. I knew when I first found out about the baby that I’d sworn up and down that I was going to give it away for adoption, but for some strange reason, something inside me would not let that thought occupy my mind anymore. I still wasn’t happy with how he or she had been conceived, but I was starting to be okay with bringing an innocent child into this world and showing it love the best way that I could.

  The door to the small room we were in opened, and a short Asian chick, with glasses hanging from her neck and a dress so tight that you could see the lining of her panties and bra, walked in and handed Detective Lewis another folder. He looked up at her, and an instant blush washed over her face. When she turned around to head out, his eyes stayed on what I assumed was her ass until she shut the door. He took the folder she’d just handed to him, and looked through it.

  Aunt Bree cleared her throat. “Did the crime-scene unit find any useful evidence? I know Mel’s attacker had to leave something behind. I mean, I know I’m only a scientist, but I have watched enough Law & Order, Forensic Files, and First 48 episodes to know that there’s always some clue.” She scooted her chair up beside mine and grabbed my hand. “Did you find out what was used to knock her out to the point where she didn’t feel someone doing all that . . . damage to her body?”

  Detective Lewis closed the folder and looked at Aunt Bree. “Well, reports did say that Ms. Reid had a large amount of Rohypnol in her system.” He looked at me. “Do you remember what you had to drink that night?”

  I thought about it for a moment and shook my head. “The only thing I remember is having some wine. I remember drinking a couple of glasses of that.”

  Detective Lewis shifted in his seat across from me and wrote something down on the back of one of the pictures from the first folder. “Do you remember drinking wine with someone other than Mr. Black?”

  I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it. I did remember who I was drinking wine with, but it seemed as if they didn’t want to believe it. Ever since I had told them that I didn’t think it was Roman who had raped and beaten me, they have been trying to make me think otherwise.

  “I was drinking wine only with Roman Black. I remember we were eating and enjoying some good conversation when he got a phone call. He excused himself from the table while I continued to eat and drink my wine. When he came back, he poured me another glass as well as one for himself.” Roman’s beautiful smile and amazing green eyes popped into my head. Him raising a tumbler to his lips with some brown liquor in it flashed across my mind. “No, wait . . .” I shook my head. “Roman was drinking something else. It wasn’t the wine he poured for me. He was drinking some whiskey or scotch he’d gotten from someone earlier.”

  “Earlier?” His eyebrow quirked. “Do you remember who he said he got it from?”

  “I . . . I don’t. I just know he said that he wasn’t a wine drinker and that he preferred a much stronger drink.”

  “Do you remember ever leaving your drink unattended while in Mr. Black’s presence?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I remember.” Another memory flashed through my mind. “I remember after eating our food and drinking, I started to become dizzy. A few times I grabbed my head, but . . .” I trailed off, remembering why I had ignored the dizzy spells I was having. Memories of the way Roman kissed and handled my body started to play through my mind. I could feel his hands lightly caressing my skin as he wet every inch of my body with his tongue and lips. My throat hitched, and I clamped my legs shut when my clit began to beat uncontrollably.

  “But what, Ms. Reid?”

  “Mel, are you okay?”

  Detective Lewis and Aunt Bree asked their questions at the same time. My body was starting to do that thing it had been doing for the past few weeks, even when I was in the hospital. Craving Roman’s touch. Whenever his face would flash on the TV screen, I’d think about him, or I’d see something about him in the blogs, and my body wou
ld do this whole heating-up thing and yearn for his touch. I wanted to tell Aunt Bree about it, but I didn’t want her to think I was weird for wanting my alleged attacker to make my body simmer down.

  After I assured them both that I was okay, and after I answered a few more questions about what I remembered from the night of my attack, Detective Lewis advised that he would visit me sometime later on in the week to see if I remembered anything else. He also promised to get back to us with any circumstantial evidence that we didn’t know about, once the reports from the crime-scene unit were back. With the interview complete, Aunt Bree and I left the police precinct in downtown Los Angeles and headed on foot to one of the many restaurants that lined Seventh Street.

  “So, what do you and my great-nephew have a taste for?” Aunt Bree asked, rubbing my belly. It was as if she was more excited about me having this baby than I was.

  “What makes you think it’s a boy?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and folded her arm around mine. “I don’t know. I’m just ready for there to be some kind of testosterone in this family. I mean, after Daddy died, it was only me, Mama, and Shaunie. Then you came along and, shortly after that, the munchkin. I’m tired of it being all women in the house. When you have this little boy, all will be right in the family.”

  We shared a laugh, which quieted down to a comfortable silence as we continued to walk down the street. Bree mentioning my mother’s name had me thinking about her and how my life probably would be if she were still alive.

  “Do you miss her, Aunt Bree?” I asked as we both stopped in front of Fogo de Chão, one of our favorite Brazilian steak houses.

  Bree untangled her arm from mine and grabbed my hand. Her eyes were focused on the double glass doors in front of us before she reached out and pulled one open. I looked at her for some type of answer to my question and got nothing but a small smile and a head nod before we walked hand in hand into the restaurant and sat at the first available table she saw. The tantalizing smell of steak, lamb, chicken, and pork skewered on metal rods and seasoned to perfection had my mouth salivating and the little life inside me jumping in anticipation, or so it seemed.

  “Welcome to Fogo de Chão. My name is Robbie, and I will be your waiter this evening. Can I get you started with one of our delicious house wines or some water?”

  After placing our drink orders with Robbie, Aunt Bree and I headed to the full salad bar and went right to work. Imported cheeses, an array of greens, hearts of palm, and black candied bacon were just a few of the delicious treats for us to sample. Once our plates were piled high with everything we wanted, we headed back to our table and began to eat.

  Robbie appeared seconds later with our drinks and a basket of Brazilian cheese bread and warm rolls. “Have you decided what you want for your sides this afternoon?”

  I looked at Aunt Bree, whose mouth was full of Caesar salad, but I knew what she liked, so I ordered for us. “I think we will have the crispy fried polenta, the caramelized bananas, and the garlic mashed potatoes. Oh, and can we get some farofa please?” I said.

  Robbie wrote our order down, smiled, and headed back to get our sides together. Aunt Bree took a sip of her mojito and wiped her mouth with her napkin. I looked at the blue crop top with cascading ruffles on the sleeves that she had on and noticed how it complemented the light makeup on her face. The yellow pencil skirt she had paired the top with helped to show off every dip of her curvy frame. I knew she had to have the men in New Jersey going crazy over her, because the locals out here in Los Angeles were practically drooling whenever she walked by. Case in point, the handsome guy dining alone next to the window hadn’t taken his eyes off her since we walked in.

  “Uh, Aunt Bree, I think you have an admirer.”

  She looked at me, and I nodded my head at the gentleman, who was now looking at a newspaper. When she turned her head to look in his direction, he looked up and their eyes connected. I heard the second Bree’s breath escaped her lips in a low hum, but when she turned back to me, she rolled her eyes and acted as if this fine-ass man didn’t affect her in any way.

  “Girl.” She shook her head. “He’s all right. I think I know him from somewhere, but I can’t remember where I’ve seen him before. Anyways, back to what you asked me earlier.” Aunt Bree licked her lips and began to fan her face when her eyes became misty. “I do miss your mother. Honestly, I miss Shaunie every day. I mean, she was my older sister, and even though I hated how she treated me like a kid at times, and I wasn’t cool with some of the things she was doing, it didn’t change the fact that I loved her more than anything.”

  “Some of the things she was doing? What are you talking about, Aunt Bree? What was my mother into that I don’t know about?”

  She waved me off. “It was nothing. Forget that I even said anything.”

  “But . . .”

  “But nothing, Mel. Like I said, it was nothing.” A weird look crossed her face; then she changed the subject. “No more mushy stuff. Let’s get back to my great-nephew and how much I’m going to spoil him.” She picked up a roll and bit off a piece. “I take it you’re coming to terms with having him now? I mean, after the way you found out how he was conceived, I thought for sure you were going to give him up for adoption, like you said.”

  A meat handler stopped at our table with a skewer filled with big chunks of filet mignon. After slicing us a few medium-well pieces, he moved on to the next table.

  “I was adamant about the adoption thing because I didn’t think that I would be able to look my baby in the face and completely love him, not knowing where fifty percent of his looks came from, but something inside me kept telling me that if I did make that choice, I would regret it for the rest of my life. I didn’t know what it was, but I’d been feeling this really strong connection to this baby. I was connected to Madison while she was growing inside me, but something about this baby feels different.”

  I didn’t know how to tell Aunt Bree that I was starting to feel like this baby was inside me for a reason and that I could feel an undeniable amount of love for him already.

  Aunt Bree smiled. “So you’re hoping it’s a boy too, huh?”

  I laughed. “As long as it’s healthy and doesn’t have any complications or mental problems, then I’m going to be okay with that.”

  “Mental problems?” she asked, placing a piece of the juicy, tender meat in her mouth.

  “I don’t know who raped me. And with this being their baby, it will have some of their DNA. . . . I just hope it isn’t no crazy shit that’s hereditary.”

  “What makes you think it’s your attacker’s baby?”

  I stopped chewing the food in my mouth and looked at Aunt Bree like she was crazy. “Who else could possibly be the father, Aunt Bree?”

  “Didn’t you say that you remember you and Roman sharing the most erotic, butt-clenching sex you’ve ever had? That’s one of the reasons why you don’t think it was him that raped you in the first place. What were the words you used? Earth shattering? You don’t remember telling me that the day after the accident?”

  She was right. The earth-shattering moments he and I had had was one of the reasons why I believed Roman wasn’t the one who raped me. I remembered giving my whole body, mind, and soul to him freely before I blacked out, so what reason would he have to violate me in the way that I had been violated?

  Aunt Bree and I continued to enjoy our late lunch and talk about everything under the sun. We were finishing our meal when my phone vibrated in my purse. I retrieved my phone. My eyebrows furrowed when I read the text message from a number I didn’t recognize.

  “What’s wrong?” Aunt Bree questioned, taking my phone from my hand. She looked down at the screen. “I need to see you,” she read to herself before focusing her gaze on me, concern written all over her pretty face. “Do you know who sent this, Mel? Maybe we should show Detective Lewis the text message. Have him trace the number or something.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No police,”
I responded while rereading the text message. I need to see you. For some reason, something inside me was telling me who had sent this message. That crazy butterfly thing had started happening in my belly again. “I . . . I think I know who this is from.”

  “Who do you know with an eight-one-eight area code?”

  I took a sip of my water, licked my lips, and rubbed my hand down my stomach to try to calm the wild kicks the baby was now doing. “I think this text is from Roman Black.”

  Fiona

  My eyes scanned the small parking lot of my apartment complex as I sat in my car with my Desert Eagle steady on my lap, ready to pull the trigger, if need be. For the past week, I hadn’t been able to shake the chill running up my spine whenever I stepped outside my house to handle my business or make sure shit was still going according to plan with the clique. Someone had been watching me, and I didn’t have the slightest idea who it could be. Many possible names had run through my mind, but no one stood out more than anyone else. So I had been keeping a watchful eye over my surroundings, hoping whoever it was would show their face sooner rather than later.

  I turned my gaze to my apartment building when the back door swung open and hit the wall. My neighbor Faizon walked out and dumped the two trash bags he had in his hands in the Dumpster. After making sure the coast was clear, he picked his nose for a few seconds and then examined his finger before wiping whatever he had pulled out on his dingy jeans. I shook my head in disgust. To think I had let his nasty ass eat my pussy a couple of times when I first moved in. I was so glad I didn’t fuck around with him like that anymore.

  I searched through the parking lot again for anything that seemed out of the norm, and came up with nothing. After sliding my gun back under my seat, I grabbed my purse, keys, and the few shopping bags I had from my trip to the mall earlier and hopped out of my car. If someone was watching me, they’d more than likely leave me alone, what with a witness milling around. At least I hoped they would. If not, Faizon’s ass would more than likely lose his life today, acting as a human body shield for me. After locking my car door and making sure my hair and everything else was in place, I walked over toward my neighbor with a big smile on my face, while still keeping an eye on the surrounding area.