by Donald Welch
“And to think, I was trying to holla at you on your first night here.” He spat on the floor. “You ain’t good enough to speak my name. Tell you what. Why don’t you go home and wash off all that ho paint, take off that dress and high heels, put you on some slacks and a pair of Stacy Adams. Then you bring yo man-ass back here and let me buy you a drink. You know, hang with the fellas for a while.” Cleet twirled a toothpick around in his mouth and then flashed his pearly whites.
Alexia felt like her feet were submerged in cement. She wondered why she hadn’t left before now. Why did she subject herself to this? Maybe it was because she was tired. Tired of running. She walked up to Skylar and without a word took her hands in hers, to thank Skylar for everything that she had done for her. This was what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t find the words. Releasing Skylar’s hands, she turned and started toward the exit. But not before giving the coldest stare she could to Torch.
• • •
Storm raced through the streets of Philly toward DuBoy’s place to get her phone. She imagined that he must really be tripping since she had not been able to touch base with him since she’d left the apartment that morning. She knew that he wanted to know the outcome with Skylar. But if she was really honest with herself, she’d admit that she was having second thoughts about everything. Aside from the fact that her attorney hadn’t gotten back to her yet, what Flynn had said to her earlier about not “waiting until it was too late” was hitting home. What if Skylar was sincere about wanting to listen to her? What if things really could be different?
How could she forgive all that Skylar had done to her over the years. Yes, she knew it was something Dutch would have wanted. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind that he loved both of his girls. She parked a few doors from the apartment and sprinted up the street. She’d grab her phone, turn it on, call DuBoy, and then hurry back to the club. Glancing at her watch, she couldn’t believe that it had taken her over thirty minutes to get home.
She passed DuBoy’s parked jeep on her way to the building. Looking up at the front window of their apartment, she noticed the lights were out. This usually meant that he was knocked out. He probably stressed hisself out after not being able to reach me and lit up a blunt and went to bed. That was something—one of a host of things—that bothered her. She didn’t like it. She had never indulged in any type of illegal drugs, not even during her turbulent teen years, not even in Muncy. But hey, she was at his spot—at least for now. In a few days she would be moving into her own place. Freedom and happiness were right around the corner. That brought a smile to her face.
Not wanting to wake DuBoy up, she was careful turning the key in the lock. Once the door was open, she decided not to put on any lights. She’d simply go to the bedroom and get her phone. It was probably in full view, but she wondered why DuBoy hadn’t seen it.
Opening the bedroom door, she made her way over to the dresser.
“Shit,” she said as she kicked something. Reaching over to pick it up, she saw that it was her phone. Finding this odd, she looked closer at the bed, where a sound asleep, nude DuBoy lay on his side. She wanted to wake him and ask him about her phone but decided against it. Picking up the bedsheet off the floor, she covered him back up. She had thought that he only kicked off the covers when they were in bed together.
Turning to walk out, she noticed a faint light shining under the bathroom door. Obviously, DuBoy had left it on, she thought. How many times had she told him about leaving lights on when they weren’t in use? Hey, she didn’t pay his bills, so fuck it! She decided to leave it on.
But just as she stepped into the living room, she heard running water. Stopping for a moment, she tried to locate the sound. It felt as though her heart had stopped. Stepping back into the darkness of the room, she saw the bathroom door inching open and what appeared to be a woman’s nude body going toward the bed.
“What the fuck?” Storm clicked on the light, and simultaneously DuBoy sprang straight up as Pia grabbed the sheet and tried to cover herself.
“Storm!” Pia cried out.
“Oh, shit!” DuBoy said as he grabbed a pair of shorts.
Without hesitation, Storm lashed out at DuBoy, attacking his face with the phone. He lost his balance and fell to the floor, but she pounded on him relentlessly, even getting in a few solid kicks. DuBoy couldn’t get his bearings, and he couldn’t restrain Storm. She was too out of control.
Pia was flitting about the perimeter of the room, feverishly trying to locate her clothes. She thought to herself, Just let me find my panties and a top, and I’ll grab my purse and leave. Fuck the other stuff.
As she struggled with DuBoy, Storm peeped his gun on the night-stand. She grabbed it and pistol-whipped him on the head. DuBoy threw his hands up for protection but Storm continued beating him with the butt of the gun. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Pia heading for the door. With one giant leap, she put the revolver to the back of Pia’s head and cocked it.
“Bitch, you move one more inch, and I’ll blow your fucking brains out.” Frozen, Pia started to urinate on herself.
• • •
An inebriated Nettie sank into a hot bath and tried to relax. June had pissed her off. Flaunting some ex in front of her face and then having the nerve to embrace the bitch in public? “Fuck that!” Nettie said out loud. “I don’t give a shit if it was innocent. How she gonna defend that bitch against me?” Nettie’s speech was slurred and she had started to cry. “Same way she can pack her shit and leave. Like that shit gonna bother me. I don’t give a flying fuck!” Nettie rambled on as she took her washcloth and wiped her face. “I’ma change the damn lock on her ass, that’s what I’ma do. Shit!”
Suddenly, there was the faint sound of the apartment door opening and closing. Nettie knew it was June coming back to beg for forgiveness.
“I knew she’d be back. Well, she ain’t staying!” Nettie said quietly. “As soon as she tells me she’s sorry, she can get her fat ass out.” Hearing the footsteps coming toward the bathroom, Nettie took her wet, hot cloth and draped it across her face. She didn’t even want to look at June. I’ll just let her say her piece, then she can get the fuck out.
Nettie could feel June was closer to the tub now because she heard her breathing. What, is this bitch on her knees getting ready to apologize?
Nettie felt a sharp pain in her neck. Pulling the cloth off her face, her eyes widened. Just as she tried to speak, another sharp pain went directly down her face. Slash!
Looking at her attacker, she could not believe she was doing this to her. She tried to get out of the tub but was pushed back down while the slashing continued. Blood gushed from everywhere. Her attacker was relentless.
Nettie put up as fierce a fight as she could. Kicking and splashing, she tried to climb out of the tub. “Get outta my house, bitch!” she tried to scream, but the sound of her voice was barely audible. Her throat had been slashed and she was gagging on her own blood. Her attacker was strong and knocked her back down. Nettie kept trying, even getting hold of the hand holding the knife. But her attacker one-upped her, gouging out Nettie’s right eye with her long fingernails.
Nettie raised her hands to protect her eyes from further assault, and then the attacker pressed her down into the water. She refused to give up without a fight, but Nettie could feel herself weakening. Somehow, she managed to spring loose once again as she gasped for air, but she was losing so much blood, so much blood. She tried pulling on the shower curtain in one last effort to lift herself up and out of the water, but the curtain rod broke and fell.
Nettie knew it was about to be over. Submerged underwater, just before closing her eyes one more time, she saw so much red. Everything was now still and quiet. The only remaining sound was the front door opening and slowly closing.
< TWENTY-FIVE >
There’s Got to Be a Morning After
After what had happened in the club the night before, Skylar considered not opening the club tonight. However
, Sidney convinced her otherwise. The Bebashi HIV/AIDS fundraiser, one of the many planned AIDS functions throughout the Philadelphia area that summer, was scheduled to take place that night at Legends. Several dignitaries had pledged their attendance, as well as their financial support. The month of August had been chosen as HIV/AIDS awareness month by the City, so everyone was doing their part, including businesses, churches, social groups, and schools. She knew that Sidney was right, and she was not about to let the organization down by postponing the event and risk them losing much-needed donations. So she knew that she must go on, despite her concerns— most especially about the lack of staff. She doubted very seriously that Alexia would ever come back to the club. And she knew that Flynn would need some time to sort things out.
She hurt for Flynn, the brother she never had, and it bothered her to know he was so wounded. I’ll reach out to him a little later to see how he’s doing. The whole Alexia thing had Skylar in a state of shock. Why wasn’t Alexia just honest with him? And how far did they go? More than anything, Skylar wished she could stay in bed all day.
And where was Storm? She’d never made it back to the club. Skylar had tried several times to reach her on her cellphone last evening but the call went straight to voice mail.
Skylar thought of calling Nettie, but assumed that she and June had celebrated late into the evening and didn’t want to disturb them. Although Nettie had gotten a little wasted last night, Skylar could see how proud she was of June and how happy she felt when she and Sidney came in.
Rolling out of bed, she noticed Sidney’s gym bag was gone, which meant, as was his usual Saturday morning routine, he had gone running with the fellas and would probably work out on the basketball court afterward.
Skylar had been thinking a lot about the conversation she’d had two weeks ago with Nettie. Maybe she had been too hard on Storm. But was it so bad to want the best for her family? Hadn’t Dutch taught them to be the best women they could be? At any rate, she planned to talk to Storm and maybe try to reach some happy medium. But first, she needed to make some calls to get a few servers and an additional bartender for the evening’s affair.
• • •
Storm tossed and turned all night. After checking into the Ritz-Carlton, she refused to leave her bed. She closed all the blackout drapes in the room and had no sense of time. She’d broken her cellphone beating DuBoy’s ass.
Just the thought of him pissed her off even more. “I should have shot his ass when I had his gun in my hand,” she said out loud. She would have, too, if she wasn’t scared of going back to prison. Yes, she was just that mad!
And Pia, that dirty bitch! How could she even think that Pia and she could have become friendly? Hadn’t Lenora warned her? And the nerve of her to be in the bed where I slept.
Most women, when they catch their man cheating, attack the other woman. Storm thought that was bullshit! “He is the one you need to be jumping on,” she always said. And she wasn’t gonna be that woman who, at the end of it all, took his cheating ass back. Hell to the naw!
But as her thoughts turned toward how long DuBoy and Pia had been together, Storm felt more hurt than angry. She cared for DuBoy. True, she wasn’t in love with him, but there were some feelings. Or maybe it was that she hadn’t been with a man in three years. Whatever the case, she was glad that she had found out what she did, when she did.
Storm might have been down, but she wasn’t out. She would rise again, stronger than ever. She had to. She was all she had. Yes, Nettie loved her, but now that there was no Dutch, she felt more alone than ever. Her relationship with Skylar barely existed, and considering how things had been going since she got home, she doubted if it would get any better. For now, she needed to think about what she was going to do.
Facing DuBoy was inevitable because most of her belongings were still at his place. She knew that she had to see him again, but she wasn’t afraid of him. DuBoy had never laid a hand on her, and after last night she doubted that he would try. But she couldn’t promise what she would do or say if she saw Pia. It’s not about her being with DuBoy. No, she’d already dealt with that. It was how Pia had disrespected her. It’s bad enough to see her with my boy—’cause a man, he ain’t—but to screw him in our bed? There’s not a dirtier bitch that walks this earth than one who does that. Deep in thought, Storm dozed off and spent the rest of the day in bed.
• • •
An affluent, sophisticated crowd representing Philadelphia’s elite paid two hundred and fifty dollars a plate for the black-tie fundraiser. Guests dined on a special menu prepared and catered by the highly regarded Devon Seafood Grill. Sounds of jazz and easy listening filled the club. Neo-soul duo Kindred was scheduled to perform, and Skylar was told that superstar singer and Philly native Patti LaBelle might make an appearance if she got back to town in time. Sidney was acting as MC tonight, since Flynn left word that he wasn’t feeling well enough to come in. The ceremony was scheduled to start immediately after dinner.
Growing ever more concerned about Nettie’s absence, Skylar called her house phone several times but got no answer. She tried her cellphone, and not only was there no answer there as well, but her voice mail was full. Skylar tried June, who told her that she and Nettie had broken up last night after the fight at the club. Skylar told her that Nettie had not come in or called.
“I’ve called her several times myself,” June said. “But I figured she wouldn’t answer. You know how she likes to be dramatic, ma’. She was pretty ripped last night, so she’s probably sleeping off a huge hangover.” June told Skylar everything that Nettie had done the night before. Skylar was shocked. Sure, Nettie had a mouth on her, but hitting a girl in the head with a bottle didn’t seem like something she’d do.
After speaking to June, Skylar decided not to bother Nettie tonight. She was sure that Nettie would call her later on tonight or tomorrow. The affair was going well, and the temporary staff were doing a good job. Thank God for Sidney, who always knew how to calm her down. He was the voice of reason. Stepping up to the plate as Master of Ceremonies was a major help—even though she had to shake her head at him trying to crack jokes during his opening. He was lucky no one heckled him.
“Just make the introductions, honey,” Skylar said loud enough for only her man to hear.
Kindred performed a great set of songs and the crowd loved them. Patti LaBelle did manage to stop by and dedicated her rendition of “Over the Rainbow” to anyone fighting the fight. “No matter what the fight may be, you gotta fight the fight,” Patti said. These words couldn’t have rung more true. Skylar felt this way now more than ever.
The evening began to wind down and many of the guests filtered out. Skylar noticed a man sitting by himself at one of the back tables. Dressed in a pair of black baggy jeans, a black hoodie, dark glasses, and black Timberlands, he nursed a drink as he took in all the activity around him. He wasn’t exactly in black tie, but he was in black nonetheless. She planned to send Sidney over to him to check things out.
Kindred were breaking down their equipment, so she figured he was with them. Less than twenty guests were still in the club, and Skylar thanked God that they had been able to get through the night, which had been a success for Bebashi, raising more than $15,000 in the silent auction alone. Sidney had even convinced Patti LaBelle to auction herself off for a lunch to the highest bidder. Miss Shoes won that honor with her bid of eight thousand five hundred dollars. That should be some lunch, they all thought, because Patti was known for wearing unique pumps. Skylar was sure they would have a lot to talk about.
Torch and Cleet were also in attendance, and as much as Skylar wanted to bar them from the club, they obviously had purchased their tickets for the event and remained quiet throughout the evening. Skylar still placed Head by their table for the entire evening just in case there was any trouble.
“You talk to DuBoy today?” Cleet asked Torch.
“No, but that nigga gon’ come through, you can believe that. I didn�
�t see Storm tonight either. They’re probably together somewhere making sure that shit was right. I can spot a greedy, dumb muthafucka a mile away. That nigga’s been off the streets too long. He don’t even know what’s up. He ain’t seen no paper, no nothing. Nigga will do anything to try and be somebody. This shit is funny to me.” Torch and Cleet laughed as they downed bottle after bottle of wine.
With only an hour or so to go before closing, Sidney closed down the kitchen and dismissed all the servers except for one. Only three tables were still occupied. Torch and Cleet were at one, a middle-aged man and a twentysomething young lady who appeared to not want the night to end were at another, and the strange dude in all black sat at the third table in the back. Skylar went over to him and asked if everything was okay. He nodded his head affirmatively.
Cleet stood up and stumbled toward the restroom. Seeing this, Skylar signalled to the bartender not to serve Torch’s table any more alcohol. The brotha all in black got up and followed Cleet into the restroom. Emptying the last of the alcohol in his glass, Torch pulled out his BlackBerry to make a call. Skylar noticed the couple preparing to leave and went over to thank them for coming. When she turned to do the same to the table in the back where the guy was sitting, she noticed that he had gone. For some reason, she felt relieved. She hadn’t realized how much he had made her uneasy. She was ready to go home. It’d been a long day. Making her way back into the kitchen, she thanked the staff for all their help.
The bathroom door opened, and the dude in black emerged. He walked over to Torch’s table with something concealed in his hand. Torch looked up and saw someone standing directly in front of him. “What the fuck do you want, nigga?” Torch asked, seconds before a jar of clear liquid was thrown into his face.
“Nigga, are you crazy?!” Torch stood up, but before he could reach for his gun, the stranger had tossed the lit candle from the table into his face. Torch fell to the floor, flailing and screaming. He pulled the tablecloth up to cover his face, but the gasoline on his face caused it to catch fire as well. Head and Sidney rushed over to help Torch as Skylar and the kitchen staff ran out to see the commotion. Someone called 911 as others worked to make sure the fire didn’t spread. No one noticed the brotha in all black as he calmly walked toward the exit.
