“Who else knows that she was having an affair?”
“I told the police, but they never found evidence of her having an affair.”
“Did her fiancé know?”
“No, I never told him. He doesn’t know. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. It would break his heart. He really loved my sister and would do anything for her. He still loves her till this day. He called me today right before I left my office to tell me how much he still loves her and misses her. I feel so bad for him. He called to say goodbye and that he can’t bear staying in his own house because it only brings back memories. He’s leaving town. That’s why I’m sitting in your bathroom with this razor, because I feel like it’s my fault. I pushed her to be in a relationship that she didn’t want to be in and that forced her to have an affair and now she’s missing or dead, and I have to deal with the guilt. If I hadn’t been stubborn and controlling I could’ve talked to her, and gotten more information about her situation, and helped her, and she wouldn’t be missing today.”
“Have you ever questioned the fiancé?”
“We’ve given all the information we could give. Her fiancé was in full cooperation with offering all that he knew. He wasn’t even in town when she disappeared. He was in California at a Security specialist convention for his security company.”
“Just because he wasn’t around doesn’t mean that he didn’t have anything to do with it. Suppose he found out about the affair and didn’t let anyone know he knew about it. Then he would’ve had reason to kill her. After all you said he has a security company. He knows all the right things to do to get away with something like this.”
“I know Rodney, he’s a good guy and would never do anything like that.”
“What appears to be good on the surface isn’t always good on the inside. How do you know that their relationship was in as good shape as you think? You said that you always judged her and maybe she was afraid to tell you some of the problems they were having knowing that you would blame her for messing things up.”
“I’m such a controlling bitch!”
“No, you really wanted the best for her. C’mon stop blaming yourself. There are many things that could’ve happened that were outside of your control.”
He held her as he comforted her fears. He began messaging her shoulders and telling her everything was going to be okay.
“I want you to take your mind off of all this stress and allow me to fix all your problems tonight.”
“How are you going to fix all my problems in one night?”
“We’re going to start by washing these tears away.”
He turned on the bathroom sink, and took her hand and pulled her up from the toilet seat where she had been sitting, contemplating her death. He gave her a washcloth and she began washing her face. What would she have done if it weren’t for Dorel? She thought. She washed her face in the sink she felt the heat of Dorel’s body behind her and then she felt his long, hard tool rubbing on her lovely round cheeks right where her thong disappeared.
Dorel ruggedly ran his tongue down her neck and played with her ear lobes. She glared at the mirror as her lover molded her body like she was clay and he was the sculptor. Her mind left the bad place it had been earlier. Dorel let his hand run down her waist and unbuttoned her skirt. It slid down her legs with the greatest of ease. His finger played with her spot until her volcano erupted. She moaned in pleasure. Off went her black lace thongs. He opened the bathroom medicine cabinet and took out a bottle of Vaseline. He opened the top and ran his hand through it. He rubbed some on his tool and a little on in between the slit of her swollen backside. Nothing would hinder him from seeking his treasure. He gently bent her over the sink and with one swift move he was in.
Tara bit her lip for about one second to adjust to the initial discomfort. What have I gotten myself into? Just be a big girl, you can handle it. It had been three long years since the backyard had been lit, but once Dorel’s ray of sun shined on it, it was pure ecstasy. It felt better than it had in her past. He always knew bitchy women were freaks and Tara was no different. Being inside of Tara reminded him of the times he made love to Trina.
“Oh Bird, you feel so good.” He realized it was Tara he was making love to.
“What did you call me?”
Trying not to cause any alarm he put her thoughts at ease. He bent over and kissed her.
“Didn’t you know that you are my little bird? So soft, so delicate, so beautiful…”
Tara was flattered by the nickname. She could live with it.
“It’s okay if you want to call me Bird. I kind of like it.”
Dorel smacked her on her ass.
“How do you like it baby?” Dorel uttered in her ear.
The sensuous moans and titillating mumbles Tara made him sure that she was more than satisfied. He loosened her hair from the bobby pins and let it flow freely. Dorel grabbed her hair like she was a horse and road her ass. The sink shook and the mirror vibrated as he thrusted in and out. Tara caught pieces of her reflection in the mirror in the mist of her moans. They peaked simultaneously and collapsed on the bathroom floor. He held her there on the tile floor for a few minutes and then he picked Tara’s hundred forty-five pound frame off the floor with no effort and carried her to the bedroom like she was a baby.
He placed her on the bed and round two was about to take place. He had an insatiable appetite. Yeah, she had a monster on her hands. Tara loved every minute of it. It was worth sweating out her hair, loosing her voice, and getting rubbed to the point she felt raw. She had found the magic stick, and didn’t want to ever let it go.
Somewhere in between passion they managed to have dinner. Dorel cut her steak up for her, he fed her buttered herb rice and he wiped her mouth. She hadn’t felt so special in years. No man she had been with before had treated her like Dorel did, she felt like she had misjudged him and had mistreated him. She was hoping that she could have the next year or maybe the next lifetime to make it up to him. Dorel put Tara to bed for the rest of the night. He closed the door to the bedroom and took her purse. He found her address book and Sweany’s address and phone number.
Dorel knew that there was no other explanation for Trina’s disappearance, and he knew that Sweany was the one that tried to get him killed in prison. Now he was letting Tara bare the burden of Trina’s death. He hated Sweany and knew that he had to kill him.
An eye opening morning
The next morning Tara awoke feeling like a new person. She got up and went into the bathroom and then looked all around the apartment and didn’t see any signs of Dorel. To keep her mind occupied she turned on the television. Where could he have gone? She wondered and noticed her purse was not where she left it. Oh no, she thought. I couldn’t have been wrong about him. She checked her wallet, nothing was taken. What could he have been looking for in my purse? She went through her purse thoroughly. She didn’t carry credit cards when she was on duty all she carried was her ID, her gun, some petty cash and her phone book. She opened her phone book and noticed that one page was wrinkled and smeared, liked she had spilled water on it. She noticed Rodney Sweany was smeared.
Tara began to think about the conversation they had the night before and how much interest Dorel had in trying to make Sweany the key suspect in Trina’s disappearance. It didn’t make sense. Her mind led her back to the first day she met Dorel. He thought she was someone he had been with. Was it Trina? Could he have known her sister at one time?
There was only one woman that looked exactly like her, and that was her twin sister. Her mind was going crazy trying to piece her thoughts together. The door opened her heartbeat skipped. All of a sudden, she felt like she didn’t know the person she was falling in love with. She picked her gun up, and hid it behind her back.
“Oh, you’re awake. How did you sleep?”
“I slept okay, but I woke up to a surprise. Where were you?”
“I went to the store to get something to eat.”
He walked over to g
ive her a kiss. She pulled out the gun and shoved it in his face.
“What the fuck is going on Dorel?”
“Why the fuck are you pointing a gun at me?”
“You tell me what kind of game are you playing with my life and how do you know my sister?”
“What are you say…”
Before he could finish his sentence, he heard Tara’s gun click.
“Speak now or I’m going to blow a hole through your lying fucking teeth.”
“Okay, okay Tara let me explain. I knew Trina because when I was incarcerated at Coldwell she was a C.O. there, and I know that you are going to hate me for this but I was her lover. She was pregnant by me.”
“What?”
Tara couldn’t believe now it all made sense. She put the pieces together and now she saw why he tried to implement Sweany, and why he wanted Sweany’s address.
“Did you have anything to do with my sister’s disappearance?”
“No, I loved her. I wanted her to wait for me until I came home, but Sweany killed her, and he tried to kill me while I was in prison also, but I killed the guy he hired, and when I came home and saw you, I thought my angel had come back to me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You helped me deal with what happened to her. I love you Tara.”
“You don’t love me. You played a game with my life. How do I know that you didn’t have Trina killed, and maybe you’re trying to kill me?”
“Sweany had Trina killed, I was locked up remember. I would’ve been dead myself if I hadn’t have killed first. Put the gun down Tara.”
“What did you do to Sweany?”
“Bird, put the gun down and we can talk.”
Tara paused for a minute confused about what to do. The news ticker on the television read loud and clear.
“News flash, a corrections officer from Coldwell prison upstate has just been found shot in his home in Queens. The officer has been identified as Ronald Sweeny. There has been no arrest yet…”
Her eyes quickly welled with tears.
“You did kill Sweany,” she shouted.
Dorel eased his gun out from where he concealed it in the small of his back and pointed it at Tara. Now they both had pistols pointed at each other. Dorel knew that he was in no position to compromise. Tara was a scorned woman with a gun pointed at his face. She felt like Dorel was a man who had killed her loved ones, and was about to kill her. She had no reason not to kill Dorel. He didn’t want to kill Tara, but knew it had to be either her or him.
Dorel pointed the gun at Tara and pulled back the trigger. Tara fired her gun hitting Dorel in the chest before Dorel’s trigger released. He fell to the floor. Then she fired a second round that landed in his shoulder. Tara walked to Dorel’s bleeding body, and stood over him. With his last breath he tried to tell her that she was wrong about him killing Trina. He told her that he loved Trina very much and that he would’ve never hurt her.
Tara turned and walked to the door she felt the slug hit her back and knocked her to the floor. She felt the burn of the bullet rip through her flesh. She tried to get up but couldn’t move. She saw the red essence poured from her wound. She felt faint as the life evaporated out of her body. She could not hold her head up. Everything faded to black.
Dorel got up from the position he was in and removed the bullet proof vest he had on. It had caught one bullet and another missed the vest and pierced his right shoulder. He stood over Tara as she descended into another world.
“Sorry it had to end this way. I wished you would’ve just listen to me! It was either you or me...”
It hurt Dorel to have lost his bird once again, but at least he had taken care of Sweany. Dorel went to the living room where he had hidden the duffle bag that had $100, 000 that he had gotten out of Sweany’s safe.
He called Nayshawn. “This place is a mess.” Nayshawn knew what time it was.
When the clean-up crew arrived at Dorel’s apartment, there was no body to take care of. Tara’s body had disappeared. The apartment was completely empty. They put in a call to Dorel and let him know the status.
“What the fuck could’ve happened to her?”
Candy
BROOKE GREEN
“Candy!”
“What...?” I screamed back.
Granted, the home I shared with my boyfriend, Rome, and our three-year-old daughter, Kenya, was large, but there was no reason for him to scream my name like we were in the middle of the projects. I scooped the last of the scrambled eggs onto a plate and groaned loudly. I took my time getting to our bedroom because I knew he didn’t want anything, as usual.
“Candy!”
My attitude kicked into high gear as I quickened my pace and prepared myself for a verbal battle.
“I know this mothafucka has lost his damn mind,” I mumbled.
I reached the bedroom door with my mouth ready to rumble. “Why in the hell are you calling me like…?”
The look on Rome’s face stopped me mid-sentence. I nearly choked on my words when I saw the maniacal look in his eyes.
“What the fuck is this candy?”
He sneered as he shook the prescription bottle he’d just found in my purse.
I took a deep breath and tried to play it off as if he was overreacting.
“Oh, I got them from my doctor the other day. You know I’ve been complaining about how I’ve been getting migraines lately.”
I shrugged my shoulders and flagged the air like it was no big deal.
“Oh yeah, your doctor huh…? Well where is the script label?”
“Huh?”
“The label,” he said, pointing at the bottle. “If your doctor gave these to you, then where is the label with your name?”
I was at a loss for words.
“Yeah, I thought so,” he shook his head in disbelief. “What, you think I’m stupid or something Candy? First of all, you don’t get 60 milligrams of Oxy-fuckin’-cotin for no goddamn migraines. Where did you get this shit from Candy, your trifling-ass-girlfriends, or some nigga…?”
I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. I closed my eyes tight and wished the whole scenario away. A few moments earlier, Rome and I were enjoying a relaxing Sunday morning, with me making breakfast and him settling in to watch a day’s worth of football playoffs. One minute I was busy fluttering around the kitchen like the perfect homemaker I knew I wasn’t, and the next minute Rome was standing in my face taunting me with my pill bottle.
“Answer the fucking question!”
I jumped as Rome’s booming voice startled me out of my thoughts. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t make up a name fast enough and, I knew better than to tell him that I stole them from his beloved grandmother who was dying from cancer.
“Oh, I see. Now you don’t have nothing to say? I’m going to ask you one more time Candy. Where did you get these from?”
“I bought them from Buddy,” I lied.
I felt bad for putting his young cousin in my lies, but shit, Rome already couldn’t stand him so one more infraction wasn’t going to change anything, right?
“I knew he had them,” I continued rapidly, “but baby I swear I only got them to help with my migraines. And you know my neck is still bothering me and I can’t get an appointment with my doctor until 3 weeks from now.”
I stood rooted to my spot while I watched Rome watch me. After several seconds of silence, I squared my shoulders and opened my mouth to dismiss the entire subject once and for all but was silenced by Rome’s next move.
He twisted the cap off the bottle and inspected its contents with a trained eye.
He frowned hard and emptied the pills into his hand. I swallowed hard as he picked one up and rolled it between his fingers. And another and then another.
Rome remained silent and, once again, I found myself praying for a do-over. Foolishly thinking he wouldn’t notice that there were actually several types of pills in the bottle, I allowed myself to relax and sat on the bed.
“Bullshit!” Rome ye
lled as he hurled the bottle at my head.
I felt the sting of the pills against my skin before I had a chance to cover my face. “What the hell is wrong with you, Rome?” I whimpered. “I…”
“What the hell is wrong with me?” He yelled at the top of his lungs as he rushed over to pick up the empty pill bottle. “This is what the fuck is wrong with me!” He charged at me and mashed the bottle into my cheek.
Surprise, mixed with the force from his angry gesture caused me to lose my balance and tumble backwards. Before I could regain my balance on my own, Rome grabbed me by the arm and yanked me upright.
“What are you doing?” I struggled against his grip on my arm, which felt as though it would snap with one wrong move.
“Let me make myself clear since you think I’m playing with your silly ass. If I ever see this shit in my motherfucking house again, I’m a fuck you up for real. It’s bad enough that you back to fucking around with this shit, but why’d you have to bring it in here? What if Kenya would have gotten hold to this and ate it?” He released my arm and backed away from me.
I drew in a sharp breath as he paused to let his last statement sink in. He definitely knew the mention of my daughter would get my attention.
“I…I’m sorry Rome. I promise, I really promise you that this is the last time. It’s just that…” I said while massaging my newly formed bruises.
“Sorry won’t cut it this time. You said sorry the last time remember? This is it. Last chance, Candy, you gotta make a choice. It’s either me and Kenya or the damn pills.”
My head snapped back and attitude crept into my voice, “Hold up. What do you mean you and Kenya? So what, you try’n a tell me that you are going to try to take my daughter away from me? She’s not…” I stopped before I said something I’d soon regret.
Although Kenya was not Rome’s biological daughter, he’d been more of a father to her than the bastard who helped me make her so rubbing that in his face would’ve crushed him. I decided to leave well enough alone because I knew that he would never make good on that threat. Shit, what man is going to willingly take on being a full-time dad when he doesn’t have to?
Lipstick Diaries Part 2 Page 15
