by Mz. Robinson
“If you don’t go,” he said, pointing the gun at me. “I’m going to shoot your black ass right now.” I moved quickly in Damon’s direction. The tears that had stopped earlier flowed again. Damon pulled me into his arms then rubbed my face.
“Everything is going to be alright,” he said, lovingly. How do you figure? He was obviously a lot more optimistic about the situation than I was.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and felt something pressed against his back under his shirt. I looked up into his eyes.
“It’s okay baby,” he said, strongly.
“D, don’t lie to that bitch.” Beau said, walking towards us. “Tell that hoe the muthafuckin’ truth.”
“You ‘bout to die bitch!” He said, looking at me. “It’s sad... but it’s true.” “You ‘bout to die!”
“Back in the house,” Beau ordered, pointing the gun. I wrapped my arm around Damon’s waist and the two of us slowly moved towards our home.
“Walk in front of me,” Damon said, calmly. I looked at him briefly then did as he said.
“You wanna get one last look at that phat ass!” Beau laughed, loudly. “I feel you bro!”
“Matter fact…gone and shake it.” Beau said, licking his lips. I looked at Damon; he nodded his head in approval. I pulled my shirt up around my waist and made my booty bounce. I imitated the girl’s I had seen on the videos. I spread my feet shoulder length a part then dropped down to the ground.
“That’s what I’m talking bout!” Beau cheered. “Drop it like it’s hot!”
“D, that’s the same shit she use to do on my dick.” He snickered.
“Oh…that’s right, that’s right…you seen the video.” Damon’s eyes narrowed to small angry slits. I looked over my shoulder at Beau. He smiled a sick seductive smile as he watched me. I rotated my hips and clapped my ass like my life depended on it. Actually, it did! He never saw Damon removing the crowbar from his pants, nor did he see the blow that came to the side of his head. He stumbled sideways never mumbling a word. The same sick smile plastered on his face as his finger pulled the trigger. I was frozen in place, stuck between life and death. My life did not rush before me but the people I loved did. Mama. Daddy. Shontay. Damon. I hear glass shatter but I don’t feel a thing. The bullet missed me. Damon moved to get the gun while I stood in place. I was stuck like glue.
“Baby…”
“Are you okay?” I looked down at my bruised body then nodded my head.
“Go call the police.”
I moved slowly stepping across the broken glass from the door, into the kitchen to get my purse. My hands were shaking like I was having convulsions as I dug through the contents. I finally remembered; I left my phone in the car. We had yet to have a home phone installed so I had no other choice but to go out to my car.
“I left my phone in the car.” I said, voice cracking. “I’ll be right back.” I ran as fast as my aching legs would allow out the house to my car. I retrieved my phone from the inside console, flipped it open and began dialing.
9…1…
Three shots rang out piercing the night air.
Chapter 45
I stared at my reflection in the floor length mirror. It’s been six months today, since Beau wrecked havoc on my life. Physically, all the signs of his rampage are gone. My scars and bruises have all healed. The door has been replaced at my home and the deck that was stained with blood has been completely replaced. All that is left now is the memories. I had a few sleepless nights but Damon was right there comforting me. We no longer talk about the night he killed Beau or any of the events that led up to that day. We focus only on the present and our plans for the future.
“Are you ready?” Daddy asked, smiling at me.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I adjusted the straps of my Vera Wang gown one last time. “I can’t believe I’m getting married!” Rubbing his hand over my belly, Daddy smiled.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandpa.” His granddaughter kicked at the sound of his voice.
“Me either,” I laughed. “This is not how I pictured this day.”
“Me, wobbling down the isle,” I said.
“You still look beautiful.”
“Thanks Daddy.”
I smiled proudly at the small group of family and friends looking on as my father walked me down the garden path of mine and Damon’s home. There was nothing countrified about the one hundred roses that surrounded us or the six piece orchestra that played. Everything was perfect in every way. As the two of use approached Damon, I looked at him wondering how I could be so lucky to have such a good man. The Lord knows it was nothing I did to deserve him but yet here he was waiting to make me his wife. I said it before: life can take some unexpected turns. It looks like mine finally took the right one!
Epilogue
I slipped away from the small crowd, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I had official business to settle now that the ceremony was complete. I walked over to my partner who had watched the entire ceremony from the side of the house. He wore Ray Ban sunglasses to cover his eyes and a dark blue Armani suit.
“You got something for me?” He asked, extending his hand to me. I gave him a firm handshake, then reached into the inside pocket of my jacket. I removed the brown envelope then handed it to him. He took it then slipped it inside his jacket.
“Aren’t you going to count it?” I asked.
“Naw, I know you’re good for it.”
“I threw in a little extra for your trouble.”
“Appreciate that,” he said, coolly. “After all, you did almost get me shot.”
“Call us even,” I said. “You almost killed her.”
“How was I supposed to know she was absent the day they taught defensive driving in school?” He joked.
“That shit ain’t funny,” I snapped. “Nor is it funny that you tried to rape her.” I looked around to make sure no one was watching us.
“I should kill you myself for that one.”
“You told me to make it realistic,” Lawrence said, removing his shades.
“I told you to scare her.”
“That’s what I did,” he said, arrogantly. Lawrence has always been an arrogant motherfucker. He studied my expression.
“I’m sorry man,” he said. “I wasn’t going to go through with it.”
“You almost blew your cover that day at the restaurant.” I said, changing the subject. The more I thought about him trying to rape Octavia the more I wanted to kill him.
“I told you to wear a disguise.”
“I wore glasses,” he argued. “Damn!”
“What’s the big deal?” He asked.
“You got what you wanted.”
“Besides, what’s so special about this broad?” He asked, shrugging his shoulders.
“Why go through so much trouble?”
“You seen her,” I said, smiling. “She’s beautiful.”
“Come on man,” Lawrence laughed. “You’ve had pretty of fine ass hoes.”
“Hoes that you wouldn’t have to go through this much trouble to get.” He paused then rubbed the patch of hair on his chin.
“She must have some bomb ass pussy.” He laughed. I was not amused at all by his disrespect.
“Watch your mouth,” I said, angry. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
“My bad man!” He laughed, putting his hands up. “It’s just that, I never thought I’d see the ultimate playa fall in love.”
“I just don’t understand what it is about this girl.”
“I chose her.” I said. “I did my homework on her.”
That’s exactly how it went down. I first saw Octavia’s picture in Black Woman’s Monthly. She was featured for the outstanding job she had done with the Ambiance. I was infatuated from the very beginning. She was fine, educated, and single. Those three things are hard to find in any woman. I had been watching her for a while. It was no accident that I showed up at her mother’s home that day
. I was far from lost. I knew my way around Huntsville, like I know my own nuts. I also knew Octavia’s every move. I knew where she ate. I knew where she stayed. I even knew where she went shopping. I knew about Beau too, way before he mailed me the copy of their sex tape. I knew about their little date that night at the Low Key. It was Lawrence watching her inside the club. I gave her the opportunity to break ties with Beau but she didn’t. That’s when I stepped in. I approached Beau about doing business together. I’m a firm believer in keeping your enemies closer. I knew all about his bad business, but that was none of my concern. My only concern was keeping him and Octavia apart. In the end I wish things could have worked out differently. I still would have killed him; that was always a part of the plan. I just didn’t intend for Octavia to show up that night at the house. I thought my plan was fool proof.
First, I had Lawrence post Beau’s bond. Then pretending to be Octavia, I sent him a text message, asking him to meet me at our home. The only problem was that Octavia showed up, and he ended up beating the shit out of her and damn near killing her. I could have let Beau live but I couldn’t risk him exposing the truth. That’s why as soon as Octavia left to call for help; I put three bullets in his chest. He begged me for his life. However, I had to do, what I had to do.
“Tell me one thing…”
“What’s that?”
“Would you do it all again?”
I looked across the garden and saw Octavia standing with our parents; laughing and talking without a care in the world. Smiling, I watched Octavia as she rubbed her swollen belly.
“Of course I would…”
The Love, Lies & Lust Series continues. . .
CHAPTER 1
“I’m sorry, baby,” Kenny said, kissing my forehead. “I promise it’ll be just the two of us next weekend.
“You’ve been saying that for the last month,” I said annoyed.
“What am I suppose to do, Shontay?”
Stepping back, I put some distance between the two of us. “Why don’t you try telling Alicia that we’ve had Kiya for the last four weekends, and this weekend, we’d like to spend some time alone?”
Frowning, Kenny rubbed his hand back and forth across the stubble on his face. “Alicia is trying to get her cosmetology license,” he said. “She works through the week, so that only leaves the weekends for her to go to classes.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Not only was he canceling our plans for another Saturday alone, but he also wanted me to support his ghetto-tramp baby’s mama in her educational endeavors. I had put my own education on hold to support him and our marriage, and not once did I get a thank you. Now he had the audacity to support Alicia’s trifling ass.
“Maybe she should have thought about that before she decided to lay up with someone else’s man,” I snapped. “Besides, I thought you told me Kiya was going to be with her grandmother this weekend.”
“She was, but Alicia’s mom decided to go to Tunica,” he said.
“She didn’t tell Alicia until this morning.”
Rolling my eyes, I threw my hands up in frustration. I was defeated, and arguing about the subject wasn’t going to change a thing. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I exhaled. “I’ll think of something for the three of us to do together,” I said.
“Thanks, baby,” he said smiling.
***
Scanning over the selection of paperback and hardcover books, I searched for something to take home and read. I was spending a beautiful Saturday afternoon in Barnes and Nobles alone. After thirty minutes with Kenny and Kiya, I decided I needed a break. I pulled out a paperback titled G-Spot by Noire, and began to read the back cover.
“That’s a hot piece,” I heard someone say.
I looked up and found myself staring into a pair of gray cat-like eyes. The eyes complimented thick eyebrows and a pair of succulent-full lips. The man they belonged to had smooth, flawless skin, the color of pecans. I nonchalantly lowered my eyes, and glanced over his wide built frame. Even in the dirt-covered overalls he was wearing, I could tell he had large biceps and an athletic physique. He was wearing a dingy black bandana that hid his hair, and cement covered leather steel toe boots. Sexy, even covered in dirt, I thought. I redirected my attention back to his eyes, and asked, “Excuse me?”
He smiled, revealing a set of straight white teeth. “G-Spot,” he said. His voice was deep and sexy. He had the type of voice that was perfect for phone sex. “It’s a hot piece,” he said. His thick tongue rolled along the edge of his bottom lip, causing heat to surge through the seat of my panties.
I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, and asked, “You’ve read it?” His eyes traveled from my face down to my low cut tank top, then back up again. “Yes,” he said, “it’s one of my favorites.”
“Thanks.” I said, giving him a small smile. As I turned around to walk away, I could feel his eyes burning a hole in my ass through my denim Capri pants.
“So, you’re just going to take my suggestion and run?” he asked.
I turned around slowly, and my eyes locked with his. There was something so sexual about the way he looked at me. For a brief second I could have sworn I saw “Let’s fuck”, spelled out in his corneas.
“You could at least tell me your name,” he said seductively.
Trying to control the flutters in my stomach, and keep my hardened nipples from poking a hole in my shirt, I crossed my arms across my breasts.
“Thanks again,” I said, instead of telling him my name. “Have a nice day.”
I quickly walked up the aisle to the checkout. I was practically running to get away from him, not because I thought he was a psycho or a rapist. But because, in less than five minutes, he had accomplished what my husband hadn’t been able to do in weeks; he managed to make my pussy wet.
After making my purchase, I sat in my car watching the front doors of the store. After five minutes, he walked out carrying a large bag. He walked with his head held high, and this air of confidence. The brother was fine. I’m talking fine with a capital F, as in “fuck me fine”. I stalked him until he climbed into a white Ford F150 with SB Building & Construction painted in bright red letters on the door, started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot.
I reclined the driver’s seat of my Honda Accord and unbuttoned the top of my pants. The dark tint on my windows prevented anyone from seeing inside. That was a good thing, because I sat there in broad daylight with my AC blowing and my fingers inside my panties, stroking my throbbing clit. I closed my eyes, and a vivid picture of the stranger filled my head. I massaged and played with my clit until I came. The entire time I had been daydreaming that he was down on his knees with his face in between my legs.
***
I walked through the doorway of my home and cursed. My living room was a mess. “Damnit,” I muttered under my breath.
I tripped over a bikini clad black Barbie, and kicked the doll across the floor. I looked around the room. There were dolls and building blocks everywhere. The room looked like a toy factory.
Why can’t he make her pick-up after herself?
Kicking my way through the toys to the kitchen, I contemplated on cleaning up my stepdaughter’s mess, but then decided against it. I had been playing Kenny’s maid for the last eight years, I was not about to do the same for his daughter.
Before Kenny and I got married two years ago, we had dated for six years. He was the first man I ever trusted; that’s where I made my mistake. I thought he could do no wrong. I put his ass on a pedestal, and damn near kissed the ground he walked on. In return, he made a fool of me by running from motel to motel with woman after woman after woman. It’s not that Kenny isn’t a good man; he just has a big problem keeping his dick to himself.
He cheated more times than I can count, and probably more than I care to know. Before we got married, there were several occasions my best friend and I busted him with other women. It was never a difficult task to catch Kenny, because he was never good at
covering his tracks.
Whenever there was a new female in his life, he would start acting real shady. He’d come in at the wee hours in the morning, stumbling over his explanation of where he was and what he had been doing. He even walked around the house with his cell phone, like it was glued to his hip. If he went into the kitchen to get a glass of water, he carried his cell. When he got up to change the TV, he had his cell. Even when he went into the bathroom to take a piss, he had that damn phone. Kenny carried his phone around like it was his second dick. So, it was quite obvious when he was cheating on me.
I have to give him some credit; he managed to keep his daughter a secret for the two years of our marriage. I found out about Kiya, courtesy of three-way calling. To make a long story short, I checked his cell phone call history online, and discovered he had been calling this one particular number several times a day. I had my girl, Octavia, call the number on three-way, and the two of us were greeted by the sweet voice of a little girl. When her father took the phone from her, his voice sent my heart straight to my toes. The little girl was Kiya Janai Green, and her father was my husband.
I kicked Kenny out of our home that day. I was hurt beyond words. Looking back now, I don’t know if my heart felt more pain from his keeping his daughter a secret from me, or more so because another woman had given him the one thing I couldn’t. My right to conceive and bare children was stolen from me at an early age.
Anyway, after two weeks of Kenny begging to come home, and my suffering through unbearable loneliness, I let him move back in. I swallowed what little pride I had left, and agreed to try and make our extended family work.
The sound of the door unlocking caught my attention. I sighed loudly, preparing myself for Kiya to come running into the room.
“Hey baby,” Kenny said, walking through the doorway alone. He pulled out the chair next to me and sat down.
