by Mz. Robinson
I decided it was time for me to go while I still had a thread of pride. I loved my mother, in spite of everything, and even though her callous words had me feeling completely alone, I refused to grovel or beg. I grabbed my purse and stood. “Take care of yourself,” I said, with my head held high. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked to the front door. I turned the knob and prepared to step outside.
“Diamond!” Mama called.
“Yes?” I asked, turning to face her.
“Please cut your losses while you still can, baby, before anything else happens. He’s in prison now. This is your chance to break free.”
“To just walk away and leave him alone?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t do that, Mama. Gator is my husband. I took a vow, for better or worse, and I mean to keep it.”
“Some vows are meant to be broken,” she said sarcastically, “especially when they never shoulda been made in the first place.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said firmly.
“Goodbye, Diamond…and thank you for the money.”
“You’re welcome, but I think you should know those checks weren’t from me.”
She stared at me with her eyebrows raised.
“Just so you know, they were from the son-in-law you hate so much. Matter fact, I knew nothing about them until now.”
She parted her lips as if to say something, then just shook her head.
“Goodbye, Mama.”
With that, I hurried out the door and down the driveway to my car. Once I was safely inside, I started the engine, gave the house one last look, then pulled off.
Thirty minutes later, my cell phone vibrated loudly in my center console. “Hello?” I answered, clearing my throat.
“You okay, baby girl?” Randall asked.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I just need some time to myself.”
“A’ight. I understand that. Look, I gotta make a run up to Nashville to check on some business. I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Are you gonna be all right on your own till then?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t worry, Diamond. We’re in this together. Love you, baby girl.”
“Love you too.”
* * * * *
During my drive home, countless thoughts ran through my head: How did I allow myself to get in this situation? How am I gonna get out of it? I decided to drown my sorrows instead of dwelling on my current issues, so I stopped by ABC and purchased myself a bottle of cognac.
Back at home again, I sat in my living room, staring into the darkness, sulking and wallowing in self-pity. My cell phone had been ringing nonstop for the last hour with back-to-back calls from Venetta. I’d let them all go to voicemail and had finally gotten sick of the ringing and had just turned off the phone. When my landline rang, I knew it was Gator calling, but I chose to ignore his call too. I was not in the mood to hear Venetta’s psychotic venting, nor was I in the mood to hear my husband’s apologies.
I turned the small crystal glass and held it up to my lips, consumed the last of the liquid in it, then set the glass down on the end table next to the sofa.
My doorbell chimed, piercing my silence and rattling my nerves.
“Go away,” I whispered aloud. I picked up the glass and bottle and poured myself another shot.
The bell chimed again and again and continued to do so until I could take no more. I marched to the front door, unsecured the locks, and swung the door open, prepared to curse Venetta’s ass out. “Clint?” I said, annoyed.
He stood in front of me wearing casual slacks and a button-down shirt, a dramatic difference from the suit he’d been wearing earlier.
“How’d you get through the gate?”
“You left it open,” he said, stepping past me.
Did I invite him in?
He looked around until he spotted the light switch on the wall, then flipped on the lights. “I was concerned when I called you and you didn’t answer,” he continued, looking at me. “I reached out to Venetta, and she said you’ve been ignoring her calls as well.”
“What do you want?”
“Well, I spoke with Gator and told him about our disagreement earlier. He asked me to come by and check on you.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, “so you can go now.”
He ignored my fib and walked over to the sofa and sat down instead. It was obvious that Gator had allowed the man to get too comfortable in our business. He knew the combination to our safe, and now the motherfucker was making himself at home in our house without even being invited inside. It was Gator’s stupidity and decision to trust the man that had me in my current situation, and I realized I should have followed my gut and drained every dime out of our accounts when I’d had the chance. I slammed the door shut, then stood with my arms crossed across my breast, glaring at Clint.
“I can tell you’re fine,” he said, holding up the bottle of liquor. “Rather than coming up with a plan for your next move, you’re wasting money on things you can’t afford? Smart move.”
“I don’t need a lecture right now,” I snarled, rolling my eyes. I tossed the shot back, flinching slightly as the liquid made a warm and slightly bitter trail down my throat.
“No, what you need is to get your shit together,” he stated coldly.
“Fuck you.”
“I don’t do depressed and pathetic,” he said with a snort, then laughed lightly.
I pulled my arm back, then threw the glass, barely missing his head, shattering the glass on the wall behind him.
Clint jumped to his feet, looking in awe at the shards on the floor.
“Get out!” I screamed, swinging the door open.
My chest rose and fell rapidly with every breath I took while I watched Clint take his sweet time to approach me. He stopped in front of me so the two of us were standing toe to toe. His eyes became small slits, and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smirk. I wanted to slap the expression off his face, rip the arrogant half-smile from his lips. He put one hand on the edge of the door and pushed it closed.
“Leave!” I demanded, breathing heavily. “Now!” My entire body begin to shake with hatred and disdain.
Clint just watched me, remaining unnervingly silent.
“Get out!” I screamed. “Now!” My heart raced erratically. My knees wobbled until they finally gave out, and I dropped to the floor. I lay at his feet, sobbing at the top of my lungs. The pride I’d attempted to maintain hours earlier was now gone, along with all my strength. I lay with my face down and my hands pushing against the floor.
“Diamond…” he said gently, pressing his hand to my back, stroking the curve gently.
“Don’t touch me,” I mumbled.
Clint ignored my request with the same stubbornness with which he’d ignored my request for him to leave.
I fought, pushing against his chest as he pulled me into his arms. I told myself I didn’t want him to console me, but truthfully, I needed him—needed someone—to console me. When Clint tightened his grip around me, in one of my darkest moments, I succumbed to the one thing I didn’t need money for: the comfort of a man. I settled into Clint’s arms, burying my face against his chest.
“It’s gonna be all right,” he whispered. “Don’t cry, Diamond,” he said, providing me with the comfort I’d sought from my mother.
I raised my head, searching his eyes with mine, and found something that reassured me that everything really would be okay in the end, even if I couldn’t see how. “Thank you,” I whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. I pulled away, gauging his expression and suddenly coming to the realization of what I was doing with a man who was practically a stranger. “Clint, I’m so sorry,” I said. I quickly pulled myself from his arms and stood, covering my mouth with my hand. “I’m so sorry. I-I just miss Gator, and it’s been so long since…well, since anyone has made me feel safe,” I rambled, trying to explain my action
s and shaking my head. “I’m just so sorry. You’re just being nice, and I-I…” I gazed at him through low, shameful eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
There was understanding and tenderness in his eyes as he rose to his feet. He looked like he was trying to find the right words to express himself, as if he was torn. That confusing moment quickly came to an end, and he moved in, closing the distance between the two of us, leaving room for nothing but air between us. He cupped my face with his hands before leaning in and capturing my lips with a kiss.
I pressed my breast into his chest, and our tongues introduced themselves. The initial connection was awkward, until we found our groove and began to match each other’s rhythm. Clint pulled me back down to the floor, easing me onto my back. I gasped softly while he trailed kisses down my neck and back up to my ear. The sensation of his warm breath and moist tongue on my earlobe, caused my pussy to throb in wanton agony. I raised my arms in the air, allowing him to remove my thin t-shirt. His eyes traveled across my naked breasts, down to my belly button. I helped him remove his shirt and laid it on the floor next to my own. I admired the curve of his chocolate pecs, the cut of his arms and his chiseled six-pack. Clint latched onto my left nipple, suckling gently before moving to my right one. He sucked and nibbled, moving from one to the other while tugging on the drawstring of my nylon shorts. I elevated my hips, granting him easy access to remove the material. Clint wasted no time in pulling my bottoms off and spreading my legs open. When I felt his tongue on my clitoris, I thought I’d crawl through the floor. He pinched the hood of my clit between his fingers while licking and sucking on my engorged knob.
“Yesss…” I moaned in ecstasy.
I grabbed my own breasts and squeezed my nipples while staring down on the man who was licking my kitty like it was the sweetest treat on Earth. Clint slipped his index finger in my honey pot and made come-hither gestures inside of me.
“Shit!” I screamed.
It felt like there was a raging fire burning inside me, spreading through me with every stroke of his tongue. The sound of my juices comingled with my moans, echoing throughout the room. Clint pushed my legs back until my knees were by my ears. He pulled his finger from my pussy and replaced it with his tongue. I grabbed his ears while I continued rotating on his tongue, grinding on his lips.
“Ohhh…” I groaned involuntarily. I arched my back as a wave rolled from my core throughout my extremities and my creamy liquid filled his mouth.
* * * * *
“So, tell me…how is it that you came to represent Leon?” I asked Clint. I traced the outline of his bicep with my fingertip while awaiting his response.
After Clint had pulled not one, but two orgasms out of me, I’d led him to my bedroom, where he’d sexed me down until I could take no more. The man wasn’t bigger than AJ or Gator, but he had a decent-sized rod; for someone who’d gone without as long as I had, decent was good enough.
“I met Leon through a former client,” he said.
I pulled myself up against the headboard and tossed my hair over my shoulders. “Are you from Huntsville?”
“No. New York.”
“Ah. I love New York,” I said. “So what brought you here?”
“It wasn’t my choice,” he confessed. “I grew up in the ‘hood, and my family wanted better for me.”
“So they sent you here?”
“Yep, fresh outta high school,” he continued. “I enrolled at the University of Alabama and graduated from their School of Law, and here I am.”
“A true success story,” I said, smiling sweetly.
“I am,” he said, “and you can be too.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re so beautiful and smart, Diamond,” he said. “You’re tough too. You could easily go into business for yourself.”
“Doing what?” I asked.
“I don’t know. What do you like to do?”
“Shop,” I said honestly.
“Then open your own boutique,” he suggested, rolling over onto his side. “Become a fashion consultant. Do anything. The possibilities really are endless, and there’s more to life than being Leon Douglass’s trophy wife.”
I knew what Clint was saying was true, but that did not stop me from taking offense. “I think you should go,” I said, easing off the bed.
“Why?”
“This was a mistake,” I said, picking my clothes up off the floor. “I’m sorry, but you’ve gotta go now.” I slipped my t-shirt and shorts back on.
Clint looked at me strangely, then eased out of the bed. “Diamond, do you wanna talk about it?”
“No,” I said.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said. “That wasn’t my intent.”
“It’s fine,” I said, feeling salty. “But you need to go.”
The lawyer flashed his eyes at me, then slowly started to put on his clothes. The two of us marched downstairs in silence. At the front door, Clint gave me a peck on the cheek, then left without saying another word. I secured the locks behind him, then headed back upstairs to my bedroom.
“What were you thinking, Diamond?” I questioned myself. I had enough issues and problems, and now I’d added screwing my husband’s attorney to the mix. If fucking up had been a sport, I would have been the MVP.
Repulsed by my own behavior, I shook my head and stepped into my bathroom to run a warm bath. After filling the tub, I removed my clothes and slid in till the bubbles were at my neck, hoping it would help me relax my mind. Thoughts of Clint’s tongue between my legs sent a warm sensation from my belly button down to my clit. I knew that what we’d done was wrong on so many levels, but it had felt so good. “Won’t happen again,” I told myself, then grabbed the soap and sponge from the corner of the tub and began to massage and rub my skin.
After I’d had a nice, long soak, I stepped out of the tub, covered every inch of my skin that I could reach with Shea butter, then slipped into my bathrobe and headed to my lonely living room.
As I stepped down the staircase, I thought about calling Venetta but decided to wait until morning. Although she’d apologized for how she’d spoken to me the day she’d decided to move out, I still wasn’t in the mood to deal with her. The day had been long and tiring, and all I really wanted to do was unwind and go to bed.
As soon as I stepped onto the landing at the bottom of the staircase, I was immediately knocked to the floor from a blow to the back of my head. I yelped involuntarily from the pain, clutching the knot where I’d been hit. I slowly pulled myself up and faced my attacker, a man in a ski mask, black sweats, and red and black Jordans. I stared into his eyes, trying hard not to focus on the gun he was holding in his gloved hand. My heart pounded in my chest as I contemplated my next move. I took a step back, then made a break for it, attempting to run. He grabbed my arm, jerked me back, and shoved me roughly against the wall. I gasped from the impact, then swung wildly, attempting to keep him away. Pain shot through my jaw when he punched me below my eye.
“Where’s the safe?” he demanded, grabbing a fistful of my hair.
“W-we don’t have one,” I whined, wincing in pain.
“Lying bitch!” he grumbled. He released his grip on my hair, then slapped me hard across my face.
I rubbed my stinging jaw while staring into his cold, dark eyes.
“Upstairs…now!” he said, forcing me back to my feet. He shoved me toward the landing and cocked the gun.
I pushed my hair out face, then looked at the man.
“Move!” he yelled.
I led him upstairs to my bedroom closet and safe. I opened the safe, then stepped back.
“Where’s the fucking bread?” he asked, rummaging through the contents.
“I don’t have any,” I lied. The truth was, I’d placed the money Gator had left me back in the safe under the dining room floor for safekeeping.
He pulled out the jewelry from the safe and dropped it in his bag. “Bitch, don’t l
ie to me!” he said, pointing the gun at me.
“I’m not!” I said. “You have everything I’ve got. Please leave.”
He pushed me out of the closet and toward the bed. “On your knees,” he ordered.
“No,” I said, shaking. “You got what you wanted, now leave.”
He slapped me again. “On your damn knees!”
Feeling as if I had no choice but to obey, I eased down to the floor, never taking my eyes off of his.
“You know what I’m about to do?” he questioned, unbuttoning his pants. He shifted his weight slightly, allowing his sweats to drop to the floor while continuing to aim the gun at me. He slid his hand in the waistband of his boxers and pulled out his limp penis. “I’ma let you eat this dick.”
“No!” I argued.
“Suck it, bitch, or I’ll put a bullet in your fucking head!”
I closed my eyes, feeling I was trapped inside some awful nightmare.
He pressed the end of the gun against the center of my forehead. “Suck it or die, bitch.”
* * * * *
The next morning, I was sitting in my kitchen, staring at the shattered glass covering the kitchen floor, replaying the previous night’s events in my head. After Clint had left, I’d forgotten to reset the alarm when I’d gone upstairs to take a bath. My intruder had broken the patio door to gain access. The jewelry the man had taken was worth well over $250,000, but I knew he’d be lucky to get ten grand for it on the street, considering the current state of the economy. I wasn’t sure if it felt worse to have been violated or to know that he was getting away with it; there was no way I was going to report stolen jewelry that had been purchased with illegal money.
The sound of the front door opening pulled me from my daydream. I had a lot of questions for Randall, including what was he really doing while I was being attacked, so I was glad to hear that he was home.
“Hey, sis!” he called from the other room.
“In here,” I said, staring into space.
“Hey, I was thinkin’ the two of us could go to breakfast…” He stopped talking as soon as he entered the room and saw me. “Diamond! What the hell happened to you?”
