Pieces of the puzzle were now beginning to come together for the detectives. With Mr. Roper’s statement and positively identifying Maurice as one of the shooters, the detectives now had a case against Maurice, since Tyrone was no longer in the picture.
“Well, Baker, at least we no longer have to search for suspects. But what really puzzles me is how does Denise Banner fit in to all this,” said Detective Cross.
“C’mon, I thought you were smarter than that. The way I see it is that Tyrone attempted to kill Karen and Denise, but he didn’t kill Karen. We know the reason Tyrone wanted to kill Karen, right? So obviously, Denise somehow knew that Tyrone planned to kill Karen, and Tyrone didn’t want to leave any loose ends, so he tried to kill her too.” Detective Baker was confident in his theory.
“You’re right, Baker, you’re absolutely right. The only person who can confirm our speculation is that asshole Banner. We’ve gotta nail him before he has the opportunity to leave the country. I’ve got to live up to what I promised that asshole,” said Detective Cross.
Detective Baker had always been the wise one and Detective Cross had always been the hothead who often didn’t use his brain or common sense.
The following morning, while at a motel watching Eyewitness News, Maurice saw Mr. Roper’s account of the killings. Realizing that there was more than likely a warrant out for his arrest, Maurice went to Bank of America to drain his account, then picked up his son from his mother-in-law’s, and caught the next flight out of LAX to Jamaica. His comrades had left the night of the murders.
Chapter 13
After two weeks of being at his wife’s bedside hoping, wishing, and praying for her recovery, Jermaine’s prayers were finally answered early one morning while reading scripture to her from the Book of Romans. Karen had opened her eyes.
“Nurse, nurse!” Jermaine yelled, excitedly. “She opened her eyes!”
Jermaine had yelled so loud that everyone on the entire ward heard him. Nurses and doctors stormed into Karen’s room as if she was having a cardiac arrest.
“Sweetheart, baby, I love you so much,” Jermaine cried to his wife. Tears were pouring from his eyes like a rainy day in Georgia. He began rubbing her arm and forehead, and then he kissed her several times on her face. She mumbled something incomprehensible, but as Jermaine looked into her eyes he sensed that she was trying to tell him that she loved him too. He stepped aside and let the nurses and doctors perform their necessary tasks.
A week later Karen was released from the hospital. Her recovery was going quite well. Jermaine felt like the happiest man in the world—that was, until their first argument, which had taken place less than a month after she had come home.
Jermaine had come home from work and observed scribbles on his living room sofa that were made with a black and red marker. With the sofa being a light tan color, the scribbles were extremely noticeable.
“Karen!” Jermaine called, clearly irritated. “Look at these scribbles on my damn sofa!”
As usual, while Karen was asleep, Alexus had been terrorizing things around the house.
“What are you raising hell about, Jermaine?” Karen asked, standing, wiping sleep from her eyes. She normally slept until afternoon.
“That,” Jermaine said, pointing at the scribbles.
“Alexus probably did it,” replied Karen.
“It’s quite obvious Alexus did it, but maybe if you had been awake or had her in the room with you this wouldn’t have happened!”
“She’s only two years old, Jermaine. Kids are going to be kids, I’ve told you that over and over.”
“This is bullshit!” yelled Jermaine, and then stormed to his bedroom.
Minutes later he found something else Alexus had gotten into.
“Karen!” yelled Jermaine again. Karen was now inside the restroom.
“What is it now, Jermaine?”
“Come here and you’ll see!”
Every week Jermaine purchased DVDs from Wal-Mart, pawnshops, or wherever they were on sale. So far he had collected of a little over a thousand movies. He kept them neatly stacked on a bookshelf and took much pride in his collection.
“Look at this!” Jermaine was pointing at several DVDs that were out of their case and had been painted with red fingernail polish.
“Alexus must have done it while I was asleep,” replied Karen. She was tired of him complaining about her kids.
“This is ridiculous! The more I try to build up, my shit keeps getting damaged or torn up! You’ve got to get a handle on her, Karen. I can’t take too much more of this shit!”
“You just fuss, fuss, fuss, about all your materialistic shit! Hell, you shouldn’t have never married a woman with kids if you were gonna fuss about every little thing they do.”
“My materialistic shit cost me money, Karen! You haven’t paid for a goddamn thing in this house!” Jermaine was infuriated.
“Fuck you, Jermaine! Kiss my yellow ass!” Karen replied, and then walked away.
During the next few weeks, Jermaine and Karen argued almost every day. If it wasn’t one thing it was another. Their relationship just was not going the way he’d hoped. They had not had sex since she had come home from the hospital and each time he asked her she simply refused him, which caused him to get even angrier.
“Why do you refuse me sex, Karen?”
“I don’t feel like it, so quit asking me.”
“I just don’t understand why you refuse the man who takes care of you and your kids, when not too long ago you were fucking and sucking men in the streets for some goddamn crack. That just doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“I did it because I wanted to, fucker!” she snapped. “I did what I had to do to support my habit. Besides, why are you throwing that up in my face?”
“Because sometimes I just don’t understand you, Karen.”
“Well, let me tell you something that you might understand. The reason I was fucking Tyrone was because I like to ride big dicks, not little ones like yours. You have never satisfied me sexually and I’ve tried hard to deal with that, until I just couldn’t take it anymore. Each time we finished having sex, I still had to play with myself to get off. I don’t mean to stain your little ego, but I figured it was time to let that out.” She then shamelessly walked away, smiling.
Jermaine stood there stunned, thinking. Why does she always say things to hurt me? I’ve tried to show her and her kids nothing but love, but this is the thanks I get. I need to start thinking of a plan for this ungrateful-ass slut, because I know this marriage isn’t gonna last much longer.He then stormed out of the house.
Karen knew she had pissed him off and she felt a sense of victory. She smiled, and then seated herself at her new oak desk, and then logged on to a singles chat room using the new computer Jermaine had recently purchased for her.
Since Karen’s younger years she had a habit of saying whatever she wanted to say to people whether or not it hurt their feelings. Of course, there were guys who simply did not tolerate her mouth and would kick her ass when she mouthed off.
Each of her kids’ fathers had beat her like she was a man and had hospitalized her on several occasions, but that still did not stop her from mouthing off. Alexus’s father had knocked out four of her teeth, which caused her to wear dentures, and Stevie’s father had kicked her in the vagina after she had Alexus, and that prevented her from having any more children.
Knowing that Jermaine was not the type of man who hit women, Karen used that to her advantage and soon began saying all sorts of disrespectful, rude things to him. Then she would erase the memories of her disrespect from his mind by giving him some superb, pleasurable sex at bedtime. His mind was so screwed up he did not know whether to divorce her or keep her.
Later that night, after things had cooled down, Jermaine stepped inside his bedroom and as usual, Karen was laying naked watching porno movies, playing with her clit.
“Come here, baby,” Karen said in a whisper.
“Yo
u think that you can say whatever you want to say to me and then give me sex to ease my mind!” he replied, staring at the woman he had married. She sensed his anger by the tone of his voice. “You’ve crossed the line this time, Karen. You’ve crossed the fuckin’ line.”
“I only said those things to make you mad, Jermaine,” she said, continuing to play with her clit. “Come here, baby, and let me ease your mind a little.”
“I’m tired of you disrespecting me! Sex can’t cure the damage that you’ve done to me, Karen.”
He then took off his shoes and clothes and went to the shower. After masturbating, Karen stepped into the shower with him and then knelt down, and began sucking and licking his penis.
“I love you so much,” Jermaine said, after releasing in her mouth. She had sucked him completely dry.
“I love you too, Jermaine,” she replied, looking at him sincerely.
Once in bed she sucked him again until it was hard and then sat on his erection and rode him to sleep.
The fact of things not being peaches and cream in Jermaine’s marriage did not affect his success in real estate or the publishing of his book. Instead of using negative energy to argue with his wife, he locked himself inside his home office when he came home from work and either worked on his second book or searched the Internet for foreclosure properties in the Los Angeles and Riverside areas.
His aggressiveness, persistence, and patience had begun to pay off. He had recently acquired two single-family homes and was in the process of borrowing two hundred thousand dollars from his equity to purchase an apartment complex that appraised for a little over five hundred thousand dollars. In addition, the publishing company offered Jermaine a twenty-thousand-dollar advance on a three-book deal, and royalties thereafter, for which he anxiously awaited his contract.
Jermaine began corresponding via e-mail with the president of the publishing company, whose name was Barbara Thompson. Through e-mails and searching websites, Jermaine discovered that Barbara was a stunning, middle-aged Belizean who had started her own publishing company years earlier, and who also had twelve books published. Jermaine would often visit Barbara’s website to admire her beauty while composing e-mails to her.
One day as Jermaine sat reading an e-mail from Barbara, to his surprise she had asked him out of the blue whether he could just write sex well, or was he actually capable of performing sex exactly the way he had written it in his book. That question was right up Jermaine’s alley. One thing he enjoyed was writing and talking about sex. From that day on the e-mails began getting kinky, freaky, and arousing to the both of them. Jermaine had gotten to the point where he rushed home from work each day just to read Barbara’s e-mails. Barbara had gotten to the point where she would think of certain parts of his book on her way to work and would play with herself while doing so.
He knew that he was wrong in communicating with Barbara, but he figured, what could it hurt?
One day Jermaine left his home to make a quick trip to Home Depot, but he had forgotten to close his e-mail. Karen, being the nosy person that she was, began reading them; all of them. Before Jermaine made it back home Karen e-mailed Barbara a nasty, disrespectful note. It read:
Listen, bitch, lay off my husband before I catch the next thing leaving for New York and come blow out your fuckin’ brains! Apparently Jermaine hasn’t told you about me. I’m his wife. I might be in L.A., bitch, but I ain’t too far to reach out and touch you! I’ve read your e-mails and I’ve seen your ugly ass on your website, but, bitch, you ain’t all that. I’ll use what you sent to my husband to destroy you, bitch, so back the fuck off.
Sincerely, Jermaine’s wife
Karen greeted Jermaine at the door when he returned. “So, you and your publisher have a little something going on, huh?”
He played dumb. “What are you talking about, Karen?” Damn, I forgot to close my fuckin’ e-mail! He ignored her and continued walking toward his office.
“So tell me something, Jermaine,” Karen said, standing with hands on hips. “Are you fucking her? If you are, just tell me, so I won’t be looking stupid.”
“Use your damn brains, Karen. How in the hell could I be fucking her and she’s over three thousand miles away?”
“Well, anyway, for your information, player, I e-mailed the bitch and gave her a piece of my mind. I’ll bet that the slut doesn’t e-mail you anymore.” Then she walked away.
“I hope you didn’t threaten her or write some crazy shit.”
His first thought was the possibility of Barbara canceling his contract. His second thought was to slap the taste out of Karen’s mouth. His mind quickly began racing.
Once Karen cooled down, Jermaine decided to e-mail Barbara to apologize for what his wife had written, but just that fast, Barbara had changed her e-mail address.
“Damn!” shouted Jermaine, continually pounding on his desk. “How in the hell did I forget to close my e-mail?” He felt like kicking himself in the ass.
Karen had heard the pounding and appeared at his office door.
“What’s the matter, Jermaine? Are you angry because I rained on your parade? I don’t know why you told her all those damn lies, because you damn sure can’t fuck the way you can write it. Hell, you haven’t made me cum since we’ve been together.”
“Fuck you!” Jermaine yelled, irritably.
“No, fuck you, Jermaine. You see, the problem is that you can’t fuck me because you can’t satisfy me. I can care less about how much money you make, about how many cars you got, about this fuckin’ house, or about a damn book being published. You see, if a man can’t satisfy me in bed then all that other bullshit is irrelevant.”
“If your pussy wasn’t as big as the Pacific Ocean then maybe a normal man with a normal sized dick could satisfy you. Don’t forget, you used to be a nickel and dime ho that fucked men of all races with huge dicks pounding in and out of your pussy on a daily basis. Or have you forgotten that? But I blame it on myself for trying to turn a whore into a housewife. I just wish I would have known more about you before I married you,” said Jermaine.
Angrily, Karen grabbed the cordless telephone at Jermaine and struck him in the eye. Then she grabbed his flat screen monitor and PC and slammed them both on the floor. Jermaine held his hand over his left eye and picked up the phone and dialed 911.
“Come get this bitch before I kill her!” Jermaine yelled into the phone. “I wanna press charges! I want her locked up! Send someone out here, right now!”
Momentarily, Stevie and Alexus were watching cartoons but they could not help but hear the screams and yells. Stevie cracked the door enough for him to peep without being seen.
“Stevie, put on your shoes and coat and get Alexus dressed. We’ve got to get the hell out of here because this bitch-ass nigga called the police!” Karen yelled.
When the police had arrived Karen and her kids were already gone.
After a few hours had passed, Karen finally put her pride on a shelf and called Jermaine. Actually, because none of her family members would allow her to live with them, she had no choice but to try and make peace with Jermaine. It was hot, she and the kids were tired from walking, and she desperately needed a shower, so she made that call. She needed to feel him out, see whether he was still angry or not. Jermaine apologized to her, as if her were wrong, and accepted her and her kids back into his household. Then he phoned the police department to inform them that he wanted to drop his complaint.
Later that night, Karen sexed Jermaine so damn good that the memories from earlier had been once again erased from his mind.
The following day he took her and her kids to the mall on a shopping spree.
Due to the e-mail Karen had sent to Barbara, Jermaine had not heard anything at all from the publishing company. His agent had also attempted several times to contact Barbara and had left several messages, but Barbara simply would not return them. The fact of his book not being published due to his wife’s actions bothered Jermaine, but he prayed e
ach day for time to heal the damages and threats that were made by her to his publisher.
Karen raised hell about one thing or another every day around the house. The fact of her having been on her death bed was not a wake up call, and the disrespect, name-calling, and physical abuse continued. As a matter of fact, she had gotten worse. Every suggestion or opinion that Jermaine voiced, Karen disagreed with him. Each time he made plans she always wanted to do something different. They just could not see eye to eye on anything and deep inside that really bothered Jermaine.
Another heated argument occurred one day when Jermaine asked Stevie to rake up some leaves that were scattered all over the backyard. Like always, Karen interfered.
“Why don’t you rake them, Jermaine? Why are you always picking on Stevie and trying to make him work?” asked Karen, with an attitude.
“It’s not that I’m picking on him, Karen. All I’m trying to do is teach him responsibility at an early age, that’s all,” stated Jermaine.
“Responsibility, my ass! You hate Stevie, and you know you hate him!” Karen yelled.
“If I hate him, then why in the hell did I make sure he had a Christmas? Why do I buy him all the latest shoes and clothes if I hate him so much? And why do I buy him expensive video games each week, and give him my hard-earned money if I hate him so much?”
“That’s only a front, and you know it. You hate my kids and I know you hate my kids.”
“You’re brain is all fucked-up, Karen. How in the hell could I hate your kids, and love you?”
“Man, you don’t love me. You just can’t find anyone else to suck your dick and fuck you as good as I can. You don’t love me; you only want me for sex.”
Marriage Mayhem Page 16
