Twisted

by Tracy Brown

  She shook her head and smiled halfheartedly. “That’s not what I mean. I feel stupid for even entertaining the idea of letting him back in my life, even as a friend. Now I look like a fool in front of my coworkers and this crazy bitch knows where I work.”

  Celeste felt overcome with emotion. She felt silly; she felt confused. All the drama and mayhem she had run away from was now right at her doorstep. She felt stupid for loving Rah-lo still. She hated herself for not being able to stop wanting him. She turned her back to Ishmael so that he wouldn’t see her cry. “Why the hell did he even come down here?” she asked rhetorically, wiping the tears that fell from her eyes.

  Ishmael hated to see her cry. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She felt a chill travel up her spine at his touch and turned to face him. Pinning her against the counter, he leaned in close to her, his lips inches from hers. “Don’t cry, ma. Fuck Rah-lo,” Ishmael said. “He don’t deserve you.”

  Celeste looked into Ishmael’s eyes and was mesmerized. His lips brushed hers and she clung to him. He kissed her slowly, deeply, and she felt light-headed. He ran his fingers through her hair as his tongue explored her mouth, and Celeste did not protest. She wanted him in the worst way. She had wanted him this way for a very long time. Maybe he could make her forget about Rah-lo for good. Ishmael untied her bathrobe and was pleased to find her wearing nearly nothing underneath. Her flimsy nightie was short and silky and he caressed her body through the thin material. Celeste purred in response to his touch.

  Ishmael continued to kiss her sensually as his hands explored her body. Celeste wasn’t sure if she was feeling light-headed because of the alcohol she’d consumed that night or if it was Ishmael’s touch. He slipped his hands underneath her baby-doll nightgown and palmed her ass firmly. Her nipples grew hard as he traced kisses from her lips to her chin, her neck, and her collarbone. Slipping her nightgown off, he caressed her breasts, squeezing her nipples gently and causing a moan to escape her lips. He sucked her breasts as her head fell back in sheer ecstasy.

  “Ishmael,” she whispered, her senses tingling from the pleasure of his touch.

  He kissed back up to her chin and looked her in the eye. “I’ll take care of you,” he said. “You don’t need nobody else.” He scooped her up, naked except for her lace boy shorts, and carried her to her bedroom. He laid her down gently on her bed and pulled his shirt over his head. He climbed on top of her and slowly let his hands explore the length of her body. Ishmael was making her weak.

  He slid her panties down to her ankles and kissed and licked her legs. When he reached her inner thighs, he nibbled on them ever so gently and Celeste thought she would come from sheer longing. He spread her legs wider and palmed her pussy, stroking her lips so perfectly. Ishmael toyed with her clit and Celeste moaned his name once more. He licked his lips and dove right in, licking and sucking her swollen pearl as she felt herself bubbling toward climax. “Oh, shit!” she whispered breathlessly. He was making her feel so good.

  Just as she felt herself getting ready to come, they were interrupted by a heavy and loud pounding on her apartment door. Ishmael paused and Celeste froze, both of them wondering who would be banging on her door at close to four thirty in the morning. The pounding continued and Ishmael rose. Celeste wrapped her silk Victoria’s Secret bathrobe around her small frame as she scurried to the living room. Ishmael was right behind her. He was shirtless and he frowned as he followed Celeste.

  “You expecting company?” he asked.

  Celeste shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t know who that could be.” She wondered what was going on.

  Ishmael inched toward the door. The pounding continued, and he reached for his gun. Celeste couldn’t help admiring his exquisite body as he maneuvered toward the door.

  “Be careful,” she whispered.

  He got to the door and looked through the peephole as a precaution, and he saw Rah-lo’s face looking back at him.

  “Shit!” he said. He turned to Celeste and whispered, “It’s Rah-lo.”

  Celeste panicked. What the hell was he doing here and what would he do when he discovered that Ishmael was there? Celeste didn’t want her home to turn into a murder scene. Ishmael turned back to the peephole and saw the look of pure rage on Rah-lo’s face.

  “I know you’re in there, muthafucka!” Rah-lo barked.

  Ishmael turned to Celeste and shrugged. “He already knows,” Ishmael said. Celeste stood speechless and afraid, not knowing what to do. Ishmael unlocked the door and opened it. He and Rah-lo stood face-to-face and Celeste cowered behind Ishmael.

  Rah-lo charged right in. He saw that Ishmael had his gun in his hand but didn’t give a fuck. Rah-lo had one, too. He pointed his nine-millimeter in Ishmael’s face. Ish stepped back and pointed his .40-caliber right back at his friend. Now the two former partners in crime stood with guns in each other’s faces and Celeste stood beside them, shaking like a leaf.

  “Put the guns down!” she yelled. “Please!”

  “What’s this, your way of getting back at me, Ish?” Rah-lo asked, his trigger finger itching to blast this bastard. Rah-lo was hurt. He had sat outside in his car for a long time, realizing that if he went inside there would be no turning back. Ishmael was there in Atlanta with the woman Rah-lo loved, and as far as he was concerned, there was no acceptable excuse for that. He knew that if he got out of the car and went to Celeste’s door, he would kill Ishmael. Rah-lo had every intention of doing just that. But first he had some questions. “How long has this shit been going on?”

  Ishmael shook his head. “It’s not even what it looks like. Put your gun down so we can explain.”

  Rah-lo glared at Ishmael. “I can’t believe I used to trust your punk ass.”

  “I’m trying to explain this shit to you, son. Put your fucking gun down, Rah-lo. You got this shit all twisted.”

  Rah-lo looked at Celeste briefly before turning back to Ishmael. “You been fucking him all along, baby girl?”

  Celeste shook her head vehemently. “Rah-lo, it’s not like that. Please,” she said. “I’m begging you to put the gun down and leave. Go get your wife and get out of my life.”

  He slowly lowered his gun and turned to Celeste and looked at her like she was crazy. Ishmael lowered his gun as well and stood waiting to see what Rah-lo would do next. “You want me to get out, Celeste? Why? So you can finish fucking this nigga?” He looked at Celeste half-dressed and Ishmael standing bare chested and wanted to kill them both.

  “I didn’t fuck him!” she yelled.

  “I saw him carrying you from the car. I watched you!”

  “I was drunk!” she explained to Rah-lo. “After your crazy wife came to my job and caused a scene I sat in my office getting fucked up and I called Ishmael to drive me home. I fell out of the car because I was so drunk, and he carried me inside.”

  Rah-lo stared at Celeste, wanting desperately to believe her. He couldn’t accept the thought of Ishmael having Celeste physically. “Why is he down here in the first place?”

  Celeste shrugged her shoulders. “He came to visit, Rah-lo. It was innocent.”

  “He came here to visit you for what, Celeste? What kind of shit is going on here?” Rah-lo’s voice bellowed and echoed off the walls in her spacious living room.

  “I came down here to see my friend,” Ishmael answered for her. “You don’t own Celeste. She can have company if she wants to—” Ishmael was interrupted midsentence by Rah-lo’s pistol cracking against his skull.

  Ishmael fell to the floor, clutching his bleeding head. He gripped his gun tighter in his hand and stood back up. He charged at Rah-lo and grabbed him, pointing the barrel at Rah-lo’s temple.

  “Ishmael, don’t!” Celeste yelled. She was crying now. “Put the gun down, please!”

  Rah-lo smirked sinisterly at his friend. “You wanna kill me, Ish? Go ’head.”

  “Ishmael!” Celeste had tears in her eyes. “Put the damn gun down!”

 
; Ishmael was still bleeding from the wound on his head, the blood dripping into his eye. He didn’t budge. Celeste walked over to him and touched him softly on his back. “Please,” she begged. “Come on. Put the gun down.”

  He blinked against the blood in his eye and lowered his gun. Celeste took it from him and then reached out her hand to take Rah-lo’s as well. He pulled back from her, scowling at her as if she were the filthiest person alive. “Don’t touch me, you fuckin’ bitch. Of all the niggas in the world you pick my man?” he spat. “I hate you.”

  Celeste stood speechless. Rah-lo had never spoken to her like that. She knew that he was hurt and she felt tremendous guilt. Ishmael was Rah-lo’s friend. The whole situation had gone too far. “Rah-lo, nothing happened,” she said. “I swear.”

  Ishmael’s blood spilled from his head like a geyser, but he didn’t care. He wanted to fuck Rah-lo up for hitting him like that.

  Rah-lo’s jaw clenched and he never wanted to kill a man more than he wanted to kill Ishmael at that moment. He knew that if he stayed a moment longer he would kill Ishmael—and probably Celeste, too. Without another word, Rah-lo turned and walked out. He walked to his car, put the key in the ignition, and sped off toward his uncle’s house. Rah-lo trembled with rage. He knew that he would kill Ishmael at a time when there were no witnesses present. Ish had just sealed his own fate.

  Nina was tired of calling Ishmael and sick of waiting around to kick Robin’s ass. She wanted a face-off and she wanted that shit now. “Asia,” Nina spoke into her cell phone. “I’m calling to find out if you heard anything about Ishmael. Has Rah-lo heard from him since he’s been down there?”

  “Nina,” Asia spoke into her cell phone. “Girl, Rah-lo’s little grown-ass cousin has been filling me in on what’s happening. I have to pay the little bastard, but he’s giving me good information. The little fucker told me that Rah-lo came into his uncle’s house this morning furious. Turns out your man is over at Celeste’s house as we speak.”

  Nina gulped hard. “What?”

  “Yes, girl! How soon can you get here?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Day of Reckoning

  “Grandma, when is Mommy coming back?” nine-year-old Raven asked Mrs. Hudson.

  Asia’s mother rolled her eyes as she stood loading dishes into the dishwasher. She couldn’t wait for her daughter to come back for her kids. Angela Hudson loved her daughter and her grandchildren. She loved her son, Larry, and his two kids by two different women also. But Angela loved them all from a distance. Since her husband had died several years ago, Angela was living the single life like the old eighties group Cameo had sung about. She was happy having her house to herself. She had white furniture, which sat atop plush white carpet, and all of it was spotless. It stayed that way because she seldom had children over her house. She had no time for that. Kids made messes and Mrs. Hudson’s home was decorated with valuable antiques, expensive artwork, and designer furnishings. She didn’t want any messes, any spills or accidents, so her grandchildren didn’t visit much. She preferred to visit them in their homes rather than have it the other way around. Having Asia’s daughters in her home on a daily basis took some getting used to. In short, she wanted her life back. And she wouldn’t get it back until Asia came back and picked up these kids.

  Angela turned and looked at sweet-faced Raven and forced a smile. “Your mommy will be back soon. You can call her later on if you want to talk to her.” Angela finished loading the dishwasher and then started it.

  “‘Sheeda said that Daddy ain’t coming back. She said Mommy played herself and was cussing at Daddy. Now Mommy’s trying to apologize, but Daddy ain’t trying to hear it. ’Sheeda said he went to find him a new mommy.”

  Mrs. Hudson looked at her granddaughter and frowned. “Your little grown ass needs to stay out of people’s business.” She pulled Raven into the living room by her shirtsleeve and called upstairs to Rasheeda, “Come down here now!”

  Rasheeda came downstairs and Raleigh was right behind her. Mrs. Hudson noticed and got upset. “Who called you?” she asked Raleigh.

  Raleigh shrugged her shoulders and sat in the recliner with her chin in her hands. She looked like she was about to watch a movie when in fact it was some real-life drama she hoped to witness. Mrs. Hudson shook her head in disgust. Asia wasn’t doing shit with these kids. They were too grown and too nosy for Mrs. Hudson’s liking. She decided to address it then and there.

  “Sit down,” she told them. Raven and Rasheeda sat down and had innocence plastered across their young faces. Mrs. Hudson knew that they were far from innocent. Raleigh continued to sit with her chin in her hands, waiting to hear what Grandma had to say.

  “You all need to listen to me very closely,” she said. “Raven came in here today and asked me about your mama.” Mrs. Hudson looked at Rasheeda. “She said that you told her some things about your mother and father that she has no business hearing at the young age of nine! Your mother is going through something right now. Your father went down to Atlanta because he has some things he needs to think about. You-all are not dumb. You know what’s going on and I understand that. But you have to be careful what you say to your sister. Raven is too young to be hearing all that. And you all are too young to be involved in your parents’ business as much as you are.”

  Rasheeda spoke up. “But, Grandma, they put me in the middle of their business. I came home the other day and they were fighting. And Mommy wouldn’t let me leave when they started talking about all the stuff I shouldn’t hear. It’s not my fault that I heard what I did. Mommy said that I should hear the truth.” Rasheeda paused. She knew where her grandmother’s loyalties lay—with her daughter. And so Rasheeda was hesitant to be as candid as she wanted to be. But taking a gamble, she forged ahead. “Mommy always talks bad about my dad. She tells me that he cheats on her, that he sells drugs for a living, and that type of stuff. I know that all of that is wrong. But if he’s so bad, why does she stay with him? I feel like … I feel bad for Daddy.”

  Raven and Raleigh were all ears. Asia’s mother was also listening closely. Mrs. Hudson asked, “Why do you feel bad for your dad?”

  Rasheeda shrugged her shoulders. “Because Mommy always pushes him to the limit. She stays out late and hardly ever cooks for us or cleans the house. He has to do everything around the house and make money to pay the bills, too. It’s not fair. And she’s always nagging him. She picks fights with him and she’s always cursing at him, making him mad. She’s like a bully around the house. And she drinks all the time and gets high.”

  “High?” Mrs. Hudson asked, her eyebrows raised. “What do you know about somebody getting high?”

  “I know she smokes weed, Grandma,” Rasheeda said. The look on her face signaled that she was no longer a naive little kid.

  “How do you get high off of weeds?” sweet Raven asked.

  Rasheeda shushed her little sister. “Weed, Raven. Not weeds. Mommy smokes weed.”

  Mrs. Hudson was mortified. She felt like she was talking to mini-adults instead of young children.

  Rasheeda continued. “Mommy makes me mad,” she said. “Daddy takes good care of us. He makes sure we have money every day when we go to school. I have a lot of friends whose parents don’t give them nothing. He drives us to school every day and picks us up. He helps us with our homework and makes us dinner. Mommy doesn’t do any of that stuff. She only uses him for his money. She shops and she gets her hair done every week. But she won’t even take the time out to see if Daddy needs something. She’s using him and then she wonders why he cheats on her.” Rasheeda sighed, relieved to be finally getting all of this off of her chest. “When he left, he told me that he loved us and that he wasn’t leaving us. He was leaving her. And I can’t blame him. I would want to leave somebody like her, too, if I was him. Why would he want to stay with somebody who acts like Mommy? She treats him like dirt and it makes Daddy feel bad. That’s why he cheats on her.”

  Angela Hudson took a deep breath.
She could see that she wasn’t dealing with naive youngsters. These were young girls who had seen and heard far more than they should have. “Okay,” she said. “I have a lot to say about that.” She sighed. “There’s no excuse for any man to cheat on his wife. When you get married, you agree to be with this one person until you die. That’s the bottom line.” As she said these words, Mrs. Hudson thought about her own marital vows. She had cheated on her husband several times. Though she had never gotten caught, the hypocrisy she was preaching made her suddenly feel guilty. She had to admit that hearing her grandchildren describe their mother had a ring of familiarity to it. When she had been younger and was raising Asia and Larry, Angela had seldom been home. Their father had taken care of them far more than she ever did. And when she was home, she hadn’t been the Suzy Homemaker type of wife and mother. She had seldom cooked for her family, was constantly hanging out at parties and card games, and had stumbled home drunk on many an occasion. She, too, had spent most of her time shopping or getting her hair and nails done. She had spoken to her husband in derogatory terms quite often over the years, and she realized now that Asia had learned her poor behavior from her mother. Angela heard her grandchildren describing not just their mother; they were describing her, too. She felt her stomach do a flip-flop as the truth hit home. She looked at her granddaughters and sighed. She lit a cigarette and inhaled. “Your mother is wrong.”

  All three of her granddaughters looked surprised to hear those words come out of her mouth. Over the years they had all heard Mrs. Hudson talk shit about their dad. How he was nothing more than a hoodlum, a fake-ass hustler, a criminal. To hear her now telling them that their mother was at fault was a surprise.

  Mrs. Hudson continued. “Your mother got married for the wrong reasons,” she said. “And so did I.”

  Raleigh frowned. “You wish you didn’t marry Granddad?” All three girls missed their grandfather terribly. He had always played with them, given them candy and piggyback rides. He had been fun.