Creepin’

by L. A. Banks

  “Paloma,” Marianne said, “I’m sitting here eating my poached egg watching your husband’s studio burn. I just wanted to call and extend my condolences.” Sarcasm laced her voice.

  Paloma chuckled. If nothing else, her mother understood the value of proper manners. “You could always call him.”

  “But then he might think I really care.”

  “So you called me, instead.”

  “I’d rather talk to you. Besides, I’m worried about you. Are you having any regrets?”

  “I did a few minutes ago. For about five seconds,” Paloma said, “and then I saw Syrah sitting in my car…in my car.” Paloma’s voice rose. “Any regrets I might have considered were all gone.”

  Richard Talmadge agreed to meet her in his office. She walked in feeling sad that she was about to give up so much of her future. She hated what she was about to do because Richard had been nothing but respectful and kind.

  “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.” She approached his desk.

  “I have the contract right here.” He held up a folder in one hand and a pen in the other.

  “Richard,” she said, “more than anything I would sign this contract, but I can’t.”

  “Is it the money?” Panic crossed Richard’s face.

  “No, it’s me.”

  “Are you having a personal crisis?” His face was creased with concern. “Do you need a shrink? My son goes to the best one in Vegas and I can get you in today.”

  “My voice is gone.”

  He looked shocked. “What?”

  “I can’t sing. The damage to my vocal chords is permanent.”

  “What damage? Did you get hurt?”

  She patted his fist. It really bothered her to hurt him like this. He’d been nothing but a friend to her. And a fan. “I’ve overtaxed it singing non-stop.”

  “I don’t care what it costs, I’ll get the best doctors. I’ll pay for it.” He gripped her hands tightly.

  “I swear to God,” Paloma said with a fond smile, “I will never tell anyone that the most cut-throat businessman in Las Vegas is really nothing more than a sentimental man with his heart on his sleeve.”

  He actually blushed. “The first date I ever had with my wife was at one of your concerts. Every time I hear Tender is My Lover’s Way, I still cry. We played that at our wedding.”

  Tears sprang into her eyes. Wrapped in her own problems she’d forgotten how important music, her music, was to other people. “After what happened today, Keith is going to need me.”

  Richard’s eyes filled with anger. “You’re not giving up your career because of him?”

  In a way, she’d done exactly that. “Richard…”

  “That man never deserved you. He’s a user. As soon as you stop being a paycheck, he’ll leave.”

  My God, she thought, was I the only person who didn’t see Keith for what he was? “I don’t understand.”

  Richard gazed fiercely at her. “Keith hits on every woman under the age of twenty-five who works here. And I’m going to tell you something, which says a lot about you and the quality of person you are. Most of those girls turned him down because of you. You have always treated everyone with so much respect, as though they were special. Not only are you a great singer, but a great lady.”

  Paloma felt humbled by his statement, but knew she wasn’t worthy because of what she was doing to Keith. She patted Richard’s hand. “Thank you, Richard.”

  “If you need anything…anything at all, you call me. I don’t care if you need money, a job, a shoulder to cry on, you call me.”

  “I might take you up on the job, though my waitress skills are a little rusty.” She’d been working as a waitress when she’d first met Keith. “I can be out of the penthouse in a week.”

  He kissed her on the cheek. “You take all the time you need. I don’t care if you’re still in the penthouse next year.”

  His thoughtfulness moved her to tears. She almost wanted to confide in him that she was broke, but she didn’t. He’d been more than kind and she felt grateful for his generosity. She was in a lot better straits than most women getting divorced. She had her family.

  “You’re a good friend, Richard.” At least she didn’t need to worry about a place to live for the time being. Though she wouldn’t stay long. Just long enough to get herself organized. “I haven’t discussed my decision with Keith yet. With everything that’s happened to him in the last few days, I didn’t want to add to his troubles. I want to give him my decision when he’s best able to understand.”

  “He won’t hear anything from me.” Richard kissed her on the cheek.

  Her throat felt tight and hoarse from unshed tears.

  She went back to the penthouse to find Keith sitting on the sofa crying.

  “Keith,” she said quietly.

  “My studio,” he gulped, “is gone. The fire took everything.”

  She patted his hand trying to show sympathy, but she knew she was just going through the motions. In reality, she felt absolutely nothing and wondered if she were really a bad person. “Tell me what happened.”

  “The police think the fire was arson and they’re acting like I set the fire myself.”

  “Really!” she said as she sat down next to him.

  “They kept asking me where I was last night.”

  She smiled. “Be nice to me, since you need an alibi.”

  He turned tearful eyes on her. “Oh, baby, you know you love me.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she answered, “bunches.” All she could think of was the sarcasm that she was wasting on him—stupid jerk.

  He slung an arm around her and pulled her into a tight hug. “Love me,” he said in a plaintive tone.

  She ran her hand down the front of his trousers. “I know what you need.”

  Keith moved his hand between her legs and Paloma trapped his hand between her thighs. “Ask me nice.”

  “Give it to me, baby. I need it.”

  “Of course you do.” She relaxed her grip on his hand.

  Keith positioned her over the arm of the sofa and then yanked her skirt up and ripped her panties off. He stuck his hand between her legs and rubbed her labia, amazed that she was already wet. His cock hardened. At least one thing in his life was going good. If he could only get her to sign that contract.

  She wiggled her ass. “Let’s go.”

  Damn she was hot. Good, he thought, this would be a fun ride for him. He plunged one finger inside her and then two. He was so on fire, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

  Quickly he moved his fingers in and out of her. He could feel her tightening up around him. The hot smell of musky sex wafted around the room. He started rubbing himself against her. Up and down, he ground his cock against the crease of her ass, enjoying how she writhed under him. She was teasing him. “You are so good to me.”

  He heard her laugh.

  For a second he swore he heard a trace of meanness behind that laugh, but then she thrust her butt up to his cock and he forgot everything but his fingers inside her and the feel of her ass up against him. His finger sank a bit deeper inside her and he swore the heat coming from her was going to burn him.

  His heart raced and the sweat poured off him. He wanted to be inside her so he could forget about the crap his life had turned into.

  Easing his fingers out of her drenched channel, he spread her legs and positioned his cock at the entrance of her vagina. He swirled the tip around her entrance getting the head wet. Her ass twitched and he ran the blunt tip of his cock up and down her wet slit.

  He liked the hot wetness surrounding him. Part of him wanted to play with her and make it last, but his cock screamed out for satisfaction. Slowly he slid inside her, she was so tight. Keith started to thrust into her, holding her hips.

  Paloma thrust her hips back and sucked him inside her. He got into a rhythm. The pressure started to build and all he could think about was cumming and he started moving faster, faster pumping all the way in and ou
t. His balls slapping up against her skin. Her internal muscles gripped his cock.

  Keith could hardly breathe as he continued to thrust. She groaned and thrashed. He couldn’t hold out any longer. He pulled out so that just the tip was inside and then shoved all the way back in as hard as he could. As he came he heard a woman’s laughter and the room started spinning.

  Then everything went black.

  Chapter Five

  * * *

  The doorbell chimed and Paloma answered it to find Syrah standing in the hall. “Yes?” What the hell did she want?

  “May I come in?” Syrah asked in her breathless, little girl voice. “I need to talk to you.”

  Paloma debated slamming the door in her face, but curiosity got the better of her. She stood aside and Syrah sashayed into the penthouse. “What can I do for you?”

  “I have a confession to make,” Syrah said.

  “And what would that be, dear?”

  She hooked a hand on her hip. “I had a call from my grandmama and we had us a long talk. She says I have to start living my life right. So I’m starting with you.”

  Cautiously, Paloma eyed the young woman. “Okay. What do you want to start with?”

  “The truth,” Syrah said. “I’ve been sleeping with your man for the last three years.”

  Paloma’s eyebrows arched. “And…”

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I’m not that dumb,” Paloma answered.

  Syrah tilted her head. “How come you didn’t stop him?”

  “Why should I?” Paloma could only hope Syrah intended to take what was left of him off her hands.

  Syrah looked surprised. “You never struck me as a woman who’d be understanding about her husband’s straying.”

  Paloma pointed a finger at her. “You don’t know me.”

  Syrah stepped back.

  “I’m going to give you a piece of advice,” Paloma said, “learn to handle your own money. In the beginning, Keith was a great manager and a decent husband but somehow the fame and money went to his head. If he cheated on me, he’ll cheat on you.”

  Syrah rolled her eyes. “I’m not taking him away from you.”

  “I was hoping you would.” Paloma sighed.

  Syrah shrugged. “He was just a means to an end.”

  Paloma grinned. “You’re smarter than you look.”

  “I rode the gravy train as far as it could go. He can’t get it up, the studio is gone, and from what I hear the money is gone, too. What do I need him for?”

  Paloma could barely contain her smile. “My sentiments exactly.”

  “I came here to tell Keith, I’m signing with Epic tomorrow. I thought he should hear it from me first.”

  Paloma covered her mouth. “Let him hear through the grapevine.” She bit her tongue. “Do you want to get an early dinner?”

  “You want to eat dinner with me?”

  “Why not,” Paloma said with a shrug, “we have so much in common. Let me just get some clothes on and then we’ll go.”

  “Thank you for the invite, but I’m having dinner with the rep of my new label.”

  “Okay.” Paloma hugged Syrah. “Good luck, dear. And next time, choose a man a little more wisely.”

  Syrah gave an impish smile. “You, too.” She turned and left.

  Alone again, Paloma touched the shell. Her throat felt barren. Her voice was gone. The last ridge had smoothed itself out while she’d been listening to Syrah’s confession and she knew everything had finally come to an end.

  She loosened the cord from around her neck and held the shell in her hand. The shell slowly started to glow and grow hot. She was about to drop it, when the shell suddenly shattered, the pieces flying out of her hand and onto the floor. A small bit of blood welled from a cut in her palm. She licked her palm and stared at the shell on the carpet.

  Paloma walked back into the bedroom. Keith sat in the middle of the bed, the sheet draped over him as he stared at her. She remembered when things had been right between them, when they’d been young and foolish and filled with dreams and ambition. But he’d given everything away, including her.

  She pulled a suitcase from the closet and started packing her clothes.

  “What are you doing?” Keith asked.

  “I’m leaving you, Keith. My brother found a divorce lawyer who will be filing the divorce papers tomorrow.”

  “Where are you going? You can’t divorce me. What will you do with yourself?”

  “I’m going to Henderson to stay with my mom. I am divorcing you and I can look after myself. I did a pretty good job long before you met me.”

  “But why, things have been so good between us, baby.”

  Paloma shook her head. “Your life is in the toilet and I’m rescuing myself.”

  “You can’t leave me now.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You’ve sucked me dry. I have no money. I have no career. I have no marriage.”

  He looked puzzled. “What do you mean no career?”

  She turned to face him, feeling a deep sadness. “Funny, you didn’t ask about our marriage and you didn’t ask about the money.”

  The magic had taken all the things away from him that he’d prized the most, and she realized she had not been on his list of favorite things. So she was leaving now before she got sucked into anything else.

  Keith frowned at her. “Half your money is mine.”

  “Half of nothing is nothing. I had a meeting with Richard this afternoon and I told him I wasn’t signing the contract.”

  Keith jumped to his feet. “What do you mean you aren’t signing the contract?”

  “I have no voice left.” She tried to sing. Nothing but croaks came out. “That’s what you did to me.”

  Keith went gray. “What happened to your voice?”

  She paused and looked at him. She could barely keep the contempt out of her tone. “My voice was the price I paid to get rid of you.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Damn, bitch, just put a bullet in my head and get it over with.”

  She smiled. “That would have been too easy, too painless and too quick. You get to have a long life with nothing but suffering. That’s what I want for you.”

  She grabbed the suitcase and left. She had what she needed for the moment. She would send for the rest of her stuff later. She needed to get out, to get away.

  As the elevator door closed behind her, she saw Keith standing in the open doorway shouting her name, but she didn’t answer. For the first time in years, she felt free and clean. She may have paid a high price, but Keith’s suffering was worth it and she still had her self-respect.

  As she fumbled with her purse trying to find her car keys, her fingers closed on the business card. She took it out. The card seemed to be edged in light.

  When one door closes, she heard her grandmother’s voice from a long ago afternoon in her childhood, another one opens.

  She walked out into the hot Nevada sunshine, the card clutched in her hand. She wasn’t quite ready to call Darius yet, but she would before the week was over. For the moment, she just wanted to get as far away from Keith as she could get.

  She tucked the card back in her purse as the valet brought her car. She turned onto Las Vegas Boulevard and she felt a new lightness, a new hope for her future.

  Epilogue

  * * *

  Eighteen months later

  Keith sat on the rumpled bed in his seedy hotel room in Los Angeles. He hadn’t shaved in days and he needed to do laundry, but he just couldn’t get up the energy to do much of anything. He rubbed his chin with one hand while he idly flicked through the channels on the TV.

  He’d been trying to get back into the music business, but all the doors Paloma had opened for him in the past were now closed. His reputation was his ruins.

  He was lucky he’d managed to avoid jail time over that thing with Syrah. She didn’t care that she was only fifteen. Why should he? That was a prize piece of as
s. She fucked like a woman. He wasn’t a judge of age, just ability. And she’d had ability in spades.

  His thoughts drifted to her inventiveness at sex. He looked down at his limp dick. He couldn’t get hard since Paloma walked out on him. He’d tried, but nothing worked. Damn bitch had cursed him.

  Both those bitches got their pound of flesh. They’d left him nothing. He looked at the .44 caliber on the night stand. He couldn’t even put one in his head. What did his wife say to him? She wished him a long life, because she wanted him to suffer. He was suffering. A black man without his dick working right was nothing.

  He landed on a station showing a theater and a line of limousines at the curb. The door to one opened and a young man stepped out, who turned and held his hand out. Paloma stepped out of the limo as though she were visiting royalty. She paused and waved at the crowd behind the barricades then she turned to walk the red carpet. Squinting at her, his dick started stirring. Great he thought. He was jonesing for her.

  A TV reporter gushed as Paloma glided down the red carpet heading toward the doors of the theater for the premier of her movie. She wore a red designer gown that hugged her curves in a way that brought Keith’s erection to a painful point. He could drive this through concrete.

  The reporter pushed a microphone in Paloma’s face. For a second she looked startled, but then the reporter said, “A new movie and a new husband, you must be flying high tonight.”

  Paloma hung on the arm of a young man who looked barely out of the cradle. He was a lot younger than Paloma, if Keith was any judge. So she’d left him and robbed the cradle for what? Obviously, for a role in a new movie.

  He felt a twist of bitterness as Paloma gazed lovingly up at the young man who was her new husband who gazed just as lovingly back at her. Keith remembered when she’d looked at him the same way.

  How had his life gone down the tubes? What had he done to deserve this? He’d made Paloma a superstar and what did she do? Throw him over for a younger man.

  Paloma smiled and turned to look at the baby brother by her side. “I have never been so excited about the turn my life has taken in the last few months. I have everything I ever wanted. I’m so blessed.”