Snapped (Urban Renaissance)

by McKinney, Tina Brooks

  “You flatter me but, no, I’m not a dancer,” I said with a smug grin on my face. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me if I was one of the dancers, I would have been rich.

  “You should be.”

  “Thanks, but I prefer to shake my ass in private.”

  “Is that an offer?” She had a hopeful look in her eyes.

  I glanced at her ring finger and saw that she was indeed married. “Sorry, I don’t do married ladies.” I was lying my ass off, but she didn’t have to know that.

  She tried to hide her hand from me, but it was too late; I’d already seen it. “Shame, I could make it worth your while.”

  She had my attention now. I looked her over again. I noticed the bling around her neck and wrist. She had to be stupid to come into a club such as this with all that glitter, but it had the desired effect. I was all ears.

  “So what did you have in mind?”

  “Everything that you can imagine. And trust and believe it will be worth your time.” She never said how much, but I was pretty sure she could afford me. Any other time I would give it to her for free, but once again, I was about stackin’ paper.

  She pulled her business card out of her clutch and handed it to me. “This is my private cell number. Call me during the day when you have some time.”

  I took her card and slid it into the back pocket of my tight-fighting jeans. I made sure I turned around so she could see me slide it into my pocket.

  “Damn,” she murmured under her breath. She waved her hand across her face as if she were getting hot or something.

  “I’ll call you.” I slipped off the seat so that she could watch me walk away. I went into the back so I could put on my apron. As I got to the back door of the employees’ lounge, I was approached by someone else. A familiar face—the same person who had offered me money for some of my time.

  “Hey, there,” I said without breaking my stride. I wanted her to run behind my ass like a lovesick puppy.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  I slowed my roll. I was ready to take the money that she had to offer, especially since I had moved into my new place. Plus, I needed my dick sucked. I stopped and turned around. She wasn’t a bad-looking girl. I would just close my eyes and pretend she was Cojo.

  “Sure, what is it?” I glanced down at my watch because I didn’t want to be late checking in for my shift.

  “Can I taste that big, black dick of yours?”

  “What’s in a taste? Do you want to give it just a lick like a lollipop or do you want to taste the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop?”

  “I want the Tootsie Roll Pop.”

  “You know that shit ain’t free.”

  “I understand that, Gavin; I’m willing to double my offer.” She didn’t have to say no more ’cause I grabbed her arm and led her back to the employee lounge.

  “Show me the money,” I demanded as I started to unbuckle my pants. I watched as she counted out ten $100 bills and handed them to me. I folded the bills and put them in my pocket. I sat down in a chair and the thirsty bitch dropped down on her knees and went to work. I had to admit, home-girl knew her shit. I allowed my mind to think about Cojo as she worked my dick.

  Either this sister had mad skills or it was the thrill of the easy money that was being made. Either way, it didn’t take long to get me off. I exploded in her mouth, and she swallowed every single bit of my precious cum.

  “Umm, I knew it would taste good,” she said, licking her lips.

  “Thanks, baby. Nice doing business with you.” I stood up and zipped up my pants.

  She was still on the floor, staring at me as if she wanted more, but I was done for the moment. If she wanted seconds, she was going to have to reach deeper into her purse. I reached out my hand to pull her to her feet. She looked like a little kid who had her toy stolen.

  “I’d like to see you again.”

  “Get your money right and we’ll see, but no promises.” I was ready to get her out of the lounge so I could get to work stackin’ more paper.

  “I wasn’t talking about inside this club. We could go out to dinner or something.”

  “Look, I enjoyed what just happened, but that’s about as far as I’m willing to go. I’m strickly about the money.”

  “I understand.” She ignored my outstretched hand and got to her feet on her own.

  That was fine with me, ’cause I would hate to have to bust this bitch in her face if she started to get out of hand. She walked out the door without even looking back. I went over to the sink and washed off my dick. If my luck held up, I might be able to get someone else to come off the money and wet my dick.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  ANGIE SIMPSON

  I opened my eyes and realized I was in Grady Memorial Hospital. I recognized this place because I had to research its trauma center for a term paper last semester. Then it dawned on me: Trauma center? What the fuck? I tried to sit up, but the agonizing pain that shot through every inch of my body caused me to sit my ass still. I didn’t even want to breathe too deep after that shit.

  One by one I started noticing things. A morphine drip hung over my head to the left; an intravenous drip to the right. Then I remembered the fire and my skin crawled. I really didn’t want to do it, but I had to know. I peeked under my sheet and started to cry. Most of my body was covered with bandages.

  A nurse came into the room, carrying a bedpan. “You’re back with us.” She started checking my vitals, then noticed my tears and handed me a tissue.

  “I’m hurting.”

  “I would imagine so with seventy-five percent of your body burned. God was with you because He saved this pretty face of yours.” She tinkered with my morphine drip and the pain instantly went away.

  I remembered asking for God’s help as I ran through the fire. I didn’t remember anything after that. “How long have I been here?”

  “Twenty-one days and counting. You’re healing well. With some physical therapy, you’ll get along just fine.”

  “My parents,” I said. “I need to see my parents.”

  The nurse checked her watch. “It’s two o’clock now. They’ve been here like clockwork every day at five o’clock since your accident.”

  Two men walked into my room. They both wore cheap suits and worn-down walking shoes.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” the nurse said. “She just came out of a coma. She hasn’t even seen the doctor yet.”

  The white man with a coffee stain on his Tasmanian Devil-printed tie stepped up. “Nurse Graham, we’ll only be a minute.”

  I saw the bulge of guns under their suit jackets, and gold badges clipped to their waists.

  Nurse Graham said, “Every time you come here you ask for a minute and take twenty, as if you have no concern for the patient. I’m going to get the doctor. When I get back, you two have to leave.”

  “Fair enough,” the other guy said.

  Nurse Graham left the room.

  The guy with the Tasmanian Devil tie said, “I’m Detective Adams, and this is my partner, Detective Lyle.”

  Detective Lyle waved. “Glad to see you pulled through.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling like I was in trouble about something.

  Detective Adams looked at my morphine drip. “You must be feeling pretty good, Ms. Simpson. They got you on the good stuff.”

  If he was attempting to be funny, I missed the damn joke.

  “Let me tell you what we know,” Detective Lyle said, sitting in the chair beside my bed. “There was an accelerant used to burn your house to the ground. My guess is gasoline, but we won’t know that for sure until our lab results come back.”

  Detective Adams stroked his mustache. “I really don’t think it was a suicide attempt on your part because you were found by Atlanta PD in your backyard, unless it was suicide motivated but you chickened out at the last minute.”

  Detective Lyle leaned forward. “But what’s been keeping me awake at night is that you were na
ked. Why? My cop instincts tell me someone left you for dead.”

  “The doctors can’t definitively say because of the severity of your burns, but they’re pretty sure you were beaten,” Detective Adams said.

  Detective Lyle sighed. “How about you tell us what you know so we can stop guessing.”

  I looked between the two as a dose of morphine hit me. If I wanted to lie to make myself look better in this ugly mess, the drugs wouldn’t allow it. “I got in the car with this stranger on Cleveland Avenue. We went back to my place and had sex. We got a little aggressive with each other, and the last thing I remember was him choking me. I woke up and the house was on fire.”

  “So you got burned trying to get out?” Detective Adams started taking notes.

  I nodded.

  “What can you tell me about this stranger, Ms. Simpson?” Detective Lyle said. He too was writing on a notepad.

  “His name is Merlin Mills. He’s twenty-two, and he’s stationed at Fort McPherson Army base. He’s six-two, approximately 190 pounds. He drives a 2002 Malibu, brown, with a dent on the back door, passenger side. License plate number is JE619.”

  The detectives looked at each other as if they were amazed.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Detective Lyles said. “I’ve been in law enforcement going on twenty-two years, and I’ve never had anyone give me such a thorough description.”

  I said, “Maybe because you’ve never asked for a suspect description from a criminal justice major. Would one of you mind getting Nurse Graham for me?” I didn’t like these condesending cops and I wanted them to Leone.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  GINA MEADOWS

  “Babe, I’m at the airport, can you pick me up?”

  “Airport? I thought you were going to drive.”

  “Something came up and I couldn’t. Are you coming?”

  “Yeah, I’m on my way.” Something didn’t feel right about this. Why would Ronald leave his car in Ohio if he intended to move here? What could have come up at the last moment? I tried to push all those warning signs to the back of my mind as I rushed to the car to go pick him up. Once I got in the car, I had to call him back because he hadn’t told me what airline he was at.

  “Why won’t he pick up the fucking phone?” I had called him three times, and it kept going straight to voice mail, which either meant he was on the phone or he was ignoring me. Neither scenario left a good taste in my mouth.

  Lord, don’ t let this motherfucker try to play me again. I knew I was wrong for saying “motherfucker” in the same sentence with the Lord’s name, but I was tired of being taken for a ride like a broken-down pony at the fair. Then my phone rang. I answered.

  “What’s up, where you at?” Ronald asked, sounding upset.

  “I was calling to find out what gate you are at. You didn’t tell me what airline, so I need to know where to find you.” I wanted to ask him so badly why he didn’t answer the first three times, but I also didn’t want to start this visit off with an argument.

  “I flew in on Delta. I’ll be at the end of the Delta platform.”

  “Okay, I should be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  “All right then.” He hung up.

  It would have been nice if he said something nice like “I can’t wait to see you” or even better, “I love you, babe.” For a second, I wanted to cry, but I sucked it up. I was going to ride this bike until the wheels fell off. If he tried to play me again, I would know for certain it was over. I was getting too old for this shit.

  “So what happened?” I moved over and allowed Ronald to drive my car.

  “I wasn’t able to tie up all my loose ends in Ohio so I decided to fly in, handle the business, and drive back when I was done.”

  As explanations go, his sucked. No kiss, no hello, and no “baby, I missed you.” I could have kicked myself for expecting it.

  We drove to the house in Alpharetta to do the final walk-through. The house was beautiful, and I couldn’t wait to move in. The Realtor gave Ronald the keys, and Ronald left them with the gatekeepers so they could let the furniture people in.

  Ronald said, “We should be ready to move in two weeks from now.”

  I didn’t know about Ronald, but I was ready to move in that day. “Where to now?” I asked when we got back in the car. I was all fired up and ready to discuss our plans for the future. Now that he had the keys, I wanted to tell him I could start moving right away and have the house all set up by the time that he got here.

  “We need to pick out some furniture.”

  I hadn’t thought about that because I assumed we would take the furniture that I already had, but I liked his idea better. My stuff was old. We now had this fantastic house, so it was only fitting that we get new furniture.

  We walked into the furniture store and Ronald said, “Pick out whatever you want, babe.”

  It felt like when we first got together, and I was so happy. We got all the rooms furnished, and the furniture would be delivered the following day.

  We spent the longest time in the furniture store. The rest of our business didn’t take long to finish. Ronald arranged for cable, electricity, water, and phone service. And the next thing I knew, we were back at the airport. He didn’t even bother to stop by the house for a quickie, which I was really ready for after that vivid dream last week that wore my pussy out.

  “Why do you have to leave so soon?” I tried to keep the whining out of my voice, but it wasn’t working. We’d spent so many hours playing out life, but never talked about anything concrete as it related to us.

  “I told you, baby, I am on a tight schedule. I’ll be back in two weeks, and we can get everything straight then.” He pulled up to the drop-off point and grabbed his carry-on from the back seat.

  I didn’t know why he even bothered to bring a bag, because he didn’t open it one time. I got out of the car and went around to the driver’s side. Ronald kissed me on the forehead and headed inside the terminal.

  “What just happened here?” I had a really weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something just didn’t feel right. Ronald and I hadn’t seen each other in months, and all I got from him was a peck on the forehead? What the fuck?

  I drove home in a semi-daze with thousands of questions running through my mind. I tried not to think too hard as I finished packing up my house. I’d been packing for three solid days. I wasn’t going to take any of my furniture, but I certainly needed all of my clothes. I also wanted all of my pots and pans. It didn’t make sense to buy that stuff again when the pans that I had worked perfectly fine.

  As I was packing a sense of joy filled my spirit, and I forgot about all the misgivings I felt when I was with Ronald earlier. For the moment, I felt like everything was going to be okay. Since it was close to the first of the month, I notified my landlord that I would be moving. My lease had already expired, and he was on notice that my plans were to move, so it was no big deal. I just needed to make sure my place was clean before I left.

  I hadn’t seen Gavin in at least a week, but from the looks of it, he was gone. I went into his room to inspect it for any damage and confirmed the fact that he had moved. All of his clothes were gone. “Good, now I don’t have to have that conversation with him.” I started to strip the linen from his bed. I had no intention of taking them to my new house. Underneath his pillow I found a blue thong and a red teddy. I didn’t want to pick them up, so I just smashed them together with the soiled linen and dumped it all into a large trash bag.

  Ugh, ain’t no telling who the tramp was who wore these. I couldn’t believe that bastard had the nerve to bring one of his whores into my house. I finished clearing out his room and cleaning the bathroom. I was tired, but I still couldn’t rest. I was full of nervous energy. I called the Realtor I’d been working with so closely for months.

  “Hey, Dan, it’s Gina Mills.” I loved how the last name Mills sounded coming out of my mouth.

  “Hi, Gina. Congratulations.”


  “Thanks, listen. I know we said we would move in two weeks from now, but I’ve packed up a lot of things from my old house and I can’t see with the boxes. Is there any way that I can start moving things tomorrow?”

  “I’m out of it now. Whatever you decide is fine. That house is sold. Congratulations again.”

  I hung up the phone feeling satisfied that I could accomplish something while I was off from work. I would have felt better if I had keys to our new house, but since my credit was less than perfect, I was not listed on the mortgage papers. I would just have to get a copy of the keys from Ronald. I finished packing the rest of my kitchen items and fell asleep, totally exhausted.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  COJO MILLS

  I was skipping work today and going to the doctor’s for the first time without Merlin. It was imperative that I find out if the baby was actually my husband’s. So far, Merlin had not mentioned his fears about raising a child who might belong to his brother, but I was sure he had done the math in his head.

  “Lord, please let this baby belong to my husband.” I got up off my knees and started to get dressed. I hated to deceive Merlin in this fashion, but the guilt and shame were killing me. I’d lost weight instead of gaining it, and I knew it was because of the stress.

  Even though I knew Merlin knew it was a possibility that the child was not his, he never ever expressed that to me, and that made me love him more than ever, especially since it had not been my intention to cheat on him in the first place. I had gotten tricked.

  “Cojo Mills?” the nurse called out.

  I stood up and followed her to the back, even though my nerves were wreaking havoc with me. I knew I was making the right decision by having a CVS, but I hated that I didn’t have the nerve to tell Merlin about it before I did it. The correct medical terminology was Chorionic Villus Sampling. Typically, this test was done to confirm the health of the baby, but it was also used to detect growth abnormalities on the fetus.