Angel's Revenge

by Teri Woods

  Dwight had come to the door when he heard a man’s voice. He looked out at the limousine and whistled.

  “Damn, boo! You just full of surprises, huh?” Dwight smiled from ear to ear.

  “Yeah, full of surprises,” Nina said, not having a clue and not wanting Dwight to ask too many questions.

  “Well, Miss Martin. Are you ready?”

  It was the same question she had asked herself.

  “I’ll be ready shortly,” she said politely before closing the door.

  After she quickly showered and dressed in a backless black dress and Gucci slingback heels, they drove to Dwight’s to get his best suit. Then they slipped into the luxurious Rolls Royce and glided off into the night.

  The surprise had been meticulously planned. The driver had an itinerary. First, they were driven across the water to Manhattan where they were taken to Cipriani’s for dinner. Their next stop was Broadway for the play A Raisin in the Sun, where they had balcony seats.

  After the play, they were escorted to Hue, a cozy little spot in the Village. The entire downstairs had been reserved for Nina. All the tables and chairs had been removed except for one in the middle of the room with a bottle of Louis XIII cognac waiting. They were shown their seats, then left alone. A man played the piano softly as a woman in a blue-sequined dress sang Nina Simone.

  Someday, I know he’s comin’ back

  To call me…

  “May I have this dance, birthday girl?” Dwight proposed, reaching out his hand to her.

  Why can’t he be Dutch?

  The evening was so charming and so elegant, she wished terribly that the man dancing with her was the man she longed to be with. When she took Dwight’s hand, she pretended it was Dutch’s. When she reached around his neck, taking step after step with him, she continued to dream. If only it was him. The entire evening was a dream. For Nina, it really was Dutch who had placed his hand on her knee as they drove through the city streets in the glistening limousine. It was Dutch who tickled the inside of her palm during the play. And it was Dutch who scooped delicious spoonfuls of tiramisu into her mouth at Cipriani’s.

  “Tonight has been the greatest night of my life, Nina. I can’t remember the last time I’ve enjoyed myself as much as I have tonight. Never have I known a woman who could compare to you, Nina. And if I had one wish, it would be that you would be my wife.”

  Dwight.

  His words were the words she had waited to hear her entire adult life. Tears welled in her eyes, tears Dwight mistook for happiness. But Nina cried because the words weren’t spoken by the man she loved but by Dwight.

  Dwight unexpectedly dropped down on one knee and slid a two-carat round diamond ring on her finger. Again he mistook her tears for tears of joy and assumed that she had accepted his proposal.

  Nina didn’t know what to say. How could she say no? How could she say yes? She glanced at the engagement ring.

  “I love you, Nina. Happy birthday.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed, unable to sleep. She looked at the alarm clock. The digital display read 3:06 a.m. She looked at the engagement ring in the dark. She had had enough.

  Nina slid on her slippers and shuffled down the stairs to the den. She flipped on the light switch and took a seat at her desk. She placed her Rolodex in front of her and began flipping through the cards. Please don’t let me have thrown her number away. She flipped through the Rolodex until she reached the M’s.

  Mitchell. Moore. Morgan. Murphy.

  Delores Murphy, Dutch’s mother.

  Nina grabbed the cordless phone from its base and took a deep breath. She looked at the phone. Should I call her? She’s going to think I’m crazy. She dialed the number anyway, hoping that the number had been changed or even disconnected. She glanced at the clock, noticing the time. It’s 3:22 in the morning. Maybe I should wait to call at a decent hour. It was inconsiderate and rude to ring anybody’s phone at that hour and she knew it, but the thumping in her chest wouldn’t allow her heart to wait. She dialed the number and listened as the phone rang.

  “Hello?” a woman answered.

  She didn’t sound at all irritated or groggy, especially considering it was the middle of the night. Her voice was casual, like she was wide awake and waiting for Nina’s call.

  “Hello?” Delores Murphy repeated.

  What should I say? Maybe this was all wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have called her. This is crazy! I’m calling a stranger in the middle of the night about a dead man. She’ll probably get upset. I don’t want to upset her,Nina thought.

  “Miss Murphy?”

  “Yes, who is this?” Delores asked, somewhat confused.

  “My name is Nina, Nina Martin. You don’t know me but, um, I really need to talk to you.” Nina sighed.

  “About?” Delores replied, already knowing exactly who Nina was and what her phone call was about.

  “Well, you see, I’m a… well, I was a friend of Bernard’s.”

  “I see.”

  There was a long pause as Delores tried to figure out exactly what the girl wanted. Nina simply wanted to hang up, run back upstairs, jump in her bed, and hide under the covers, but she had to know.

  “Miss Murphy?”

  “I’m still here.”

  “I don’t know how to say this, but a lot of things have been happening around me and…” Nina’s voice trailed off.

  “When would you like to meet?” Delores asked invitingly, figuring Nina needed someone to talk to.

  “Now,” Nina blurted.

  Poor girl, she can’t even sleep. What did Bernard do to her? Delores wondered.

  Delores laughed softly. “It’s going on four in the morning. You want some breakfast?”

  “I’m not really hungry, ma’am.”

  Nina scribbled down the directions to Delores’s house, then made her way upstairs. Reality hit her as she saw Dwight lying in her bed, sound asleep, mouth open and snoring with each breath. Nina quietly tiptoed to her closet and threw on a pair of jogging pants.

  Downstairs in the kitchen, she grabbed her bag and her keys and looked at the piece of paper she had written the directions on.

  Ivy Hill,she thought to herself as she made her way out the front door.

  “Come on in, Miss Martin,” Delores said, greeting Nina with a friendly smile as she ushered her into the living room.

  Nina looked around the spacious penthouse. She could see that Dutch had showered his mother with every luxurious amenity possible.

  “Can I get you anything, tea or maybe some coffee?” Delores offered as she sized Nina up.

  Delores could see what her son saw in the young woman. Even without makeup, Nina had a flawless beauty. She was demure with a quiet strength and obviously educated but not removed from where she came from.

  “Yes, please. Tea would be fine.”

  Nina saw immediately that Dutch had his mother’s eyes and complexion. His height and smile, however, must have come from his father. Delores herself looked good for her age. Time had been good to her. Delores had jet-black hair, and her face showed no signs of aging, no wrinkles, no blemishes, no crow’s-feet.

  Delores poured Nina a cup of tea and placed it in front of her.

  “Thank you,” Nina said, reaching for the sugar.

  “Oh, you’re welcome,” Delores replied.

  “Miss Murphy, I want to thank you for letting me come over in the middle of the night like this. I really needed to talk to someone. Actually, I really needed to talk to you,” Nina said, nervously stirring her tea.

  Delores gently placed her hand on Nina’s to comfort her.

  “It’s fine. Really, I don’t get much sleep at night these days. I just hope I can help you. You say you were a friend of my son’s?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We dated for a while,” Nina said, nodding.

  “Oh, I see.” I know she not here to tell me I’m a grandmother or nothing crazy like that,Delores thought, while secretly wishing for a grandson that looked like her o
wn son. But Nina’s eyes told her a different story.

  “I know that this may be hard for you… But what happened in the courtroom three years ago?”

  “Happened? I’m not sure I understand,” Delores interrupted.

  Nina searched for a way to convey what she was feeling and why she had come.

  “Miss Murphy, for three years I’ve tried to put Bernard and what he meant to me out of my mind. I had deep feelings for him, but I couldn’t accept his lifestyle. I couldn’t accept who he was until it was too late.”

  Nina noticed that she was stirring her tea again, so she let go of the spoon.

  “By then he was gone, and anything we could have had was gone with him. I accepted that and tried to go on with my life. I did go on with my life, but in many ways, never completely.” Nina took a deep breath. “Until things started happening.”

  “What do you mean, things started happening? What kind of things?” Delores questioned with furrowed brows.

  “I know this is going to sound crazy. But little things of great significance. If I told you, you would probably think I was crazy.”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Delores said sincerely, wanting to know the things Nina was talking about.

  “Well, one night, I came home from work and music was playing from my stereo. At first I thought it was the radio, but then I realized it was a CD that I didn’t own. I never figured out how it was playing, but it was, and it was playing a song that we shared. Then flowers were sent to my office. Not just any flowers, but hundreds of exotic flowers that no one I know could have possibly afforded. Then tonight, a limo was sent to me for my birthday. The driver claimed I ordered it, but I didn’t. I don’t know who did, but whoever it was ordered the limo in my middle name. No one knows my middle name, and… I just can’t think straight anymore. But I can’t stop thinking.”

  “I take it that Bernard knew your middle name and you think it was Bernard who sent the limo and the flowers and somehow got in your house and played a CD that the two of you used to listen to?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, and you probably think anybody could’ve done those things, but I know in my heart, I swear, that those things are signs, Miss Murphy. Signs.”

  “Signs of what?” Delores asked. The girl must be crazy. Let me get her out my house.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I had to see you. I thought that maybe you knew something. If anybody knows, I figured it would be you.”

  “Knows what? If my son is still alive?”

  “Yes, exactly. That’s exactly what I was thinking, Miss Murphy. I know he’s in a lot of trouble, especially if he’s alive, and you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. I realize you don’t even know me. But, I swear, Miss Murphy, I just need to know. If he’s alive, ask him why he’s doing this to me, because he’s driving me crazy.” Nina shook her head in despair.

  Delores looked at Nina and watched her body language as she spoke about her son. She didn’t know Nina. For all Delores knew, Nina could have been anyone trying to get information about her son.

  If she thinks I know something, why would she think I would tell her? Delores asked herself. Delores never spoke of her suspicions to anyone and certainly wasn’t about to start today. She felt bad for Nina. She reminded her of herself. She knew despair, she knew pain, she knew heartache. His name was Bernard James, Sr., and he was her son’s father. She had lost her love a long time ago and also refused to let go.

  “Please, Miss Murphy, I know you know something,” Nina pleaded.

  “And that ring, did Bernard send you that, too?” Delores inquired.

  Nina glanced down at the lie she wore on her left ring finger and moved her hand from above the table to under it.

  Delores stood up slowly.

  “Nina, I can only tell you what you already know. Bernard is dead. This I can assure you because I cremated his body myself. Go on with your life and forget my son.”

  Delores wouldn’t dare tell Nina anything else. She wasn’t about to share her private thoughts with a complete stranger. Besides, if her son had wanted someone to know something, he would have said it himself. As his mother, she had never said a word to anyone about him, and she wasn’t about to start now.

  “Go on with my life? How? I can’t. I’m at a crossroad, a major crossroad, and I can’t cross,” she pleaded with Delores not to end their conversation. But she knew it was already over. “What about all these unexplainable events?”

  “He’s dead, Ms. Martin. Please let yourself out.”

  Their eyes met for a split second before Delores turned and left the kitchen. Nina was trembling so violently, she had to brace herself against the table. She began to sob. Her tears splattered onto the table as they rolled off her cheeks.

  She had come to learn the truth and in a way she had. Delores was hiding something. Nina could feel it. It was in the woman’s eyes, and Nina saw right through her. What was she trying to hide? She could hardly look at me when she spoke to me. Yes, his mother is definitely hiding something. But what? Maybe he is alive, maybe.

  Nina felt it, and deep down, she believed.

  PUSSY CONTROL

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It’s time to get money,” Dutch told his crew one night, signaling the end of the Month of Murder.

  He, along with Craze, Angel, Roc, and Zoom, met in Dutch’s loft apartment on the outskirts of Newark.

  “Everybody remotely close to Kazami is dead, thanks to Roc and Zoom.” Dutch laughed, Kazami’s chain swinging from his neck. “The rest of these niggas, we don’t even need a murder game for.”

  “Don’t need it?” Zoom questioned. “Fuck you think, nigga’s just gonna bow down?”

  “Word up,” Craze agreed. “I say we keep these niggas duckin’ and runnin’ until they bow down.”

  Dutch shook his head. “We ain’t gotta gun ’em, just outthink ’em. And since most niggas think wit’ their dicks, we control that, we control them.” Dutch turned to Angel. “It’s your turn, baby girl. Whoever these niggas wanna fuck or bein’ fucked by, I want you to tuck them under your wing. Use what you are to get us what we want. Lick ’em, trick ’em, spend cheese on ’em. Whatever you gotta do to get ’em on our team, do it,” he explained.

  “Then what?” Angel asked.

  “Then we lay on ’em to slip because they all do. If they movin’ against us, we’ll know because their bitches will tell us. Niggas won’t even know they sleepin’ with the enemy. Control the pussy and you control the game.”

  Angel understood and set out to master her craft.

  “Look at this nigga,” Angel giggled, referring to the driver of the Pepsi-blue Escalade sitting on twenty-four-inch spinners.

  He was smiling down at them in Angel’s new cherry-red Viper drop-top with black interior and red piping.

  “Damn you doin’ it, papi,” Angel flirted, emphasizing the Spanish in her accent.

  The nigga’s chest swelled, and he hung his wrist out the window flashing a platinum Piaget skeleton watch.

  “Not as hard as you in them shorts. You doin’ it,” he said as he eyed Angel’s thighs and fat pussy through her daisy dukes.

  “Watch this,” Angel whispered to Goldilocks. She bent over, kissed Goldi on the mouth, and played with her pussy.

  Angel looked up. “I’d rather be doin’ you, papi. Me and my boo here. What you think, huh? Can you handle two bad bitches?” Angel teased as Goldilocks rolled her tongue like a snake’s. The driver boned instantly.

  The light turned green but neither car moved.

  “Damn, ma! Slow down! You don’t bullshit, do you?”

  “There ain’t nothing slow about me. Follow me if you can,” Angel said with a smile, then darted off down the street.

  “Pussy runs the game, Goldi. Don’t ever forget that,” she said, laughing at the Escalade in her rearview mirror. “This dude don’t know us from jack, but look at him, followin’ us like a little lost puppy.”

  Angel made a le
ft and the Escalade followed, continuing the pursuit.

  “Ask a broke nigga who took him out the game. Ask a crackhead cat who turned him out. Ask a nigga in any prison in America who half the time ain’t worried about his spot or who’s gettin’ his cake. You know what he’s worried about? He’s worried about who’s fuckin’ his baby mama!”

  Angel and Goldilocks laughed as Angel switched lanes.

  “Is that what that thing with Leslie is all about?” Goldilocks questioned.

  “Exactly. I remember the night Dutch broke it down to me. But the difference with us is we gonna take it to the next level. We ain’t goin’ after these niggas ’cause that’s what they expect. We goin’ after their bitches. Trust me, we’re about to lock this shit down, boo. Lock this shit down, and Roll gonna give it to us!” Angel said, laughing.

  “What about him?” Goldilocks asked as she gestured to the Escalade.

  “Man, when we finished toyin’ with this weak-ass nigga, we’ll be sittin’ right where we wanna be,” Angel replied, taking a quick right, using the skills she had mastered as a car thief. She swung a left and timed the next light on the yellow. Safely, she made it through but the Escalade wasn’t as fortunate. A cab rammed into the driver’s side in the middle of the intersection.

  Angel glanced at Goldilocks, “Any questions?”

  Angel wasted no time putting her game down. She concentrated on Leslie, and it wasn’t long before Leslie had a secret fetish and her name was Angel. It was so bad, it got to the point that Leslie couldn’t get through the day without calling Angel, and if Angel didn’t answer, oh boy! Leslie called and called until she heard Angel’s voice. The promise of a rendezvous, the promise of her between her legs licking and sucking her pussy, completely opened her up. Leslie couldn’t handle the sex. But not only did Angel get in her panties, she got in her head and meticulously picked at her brain.

  Leslie owned four hair salons. Roc had sponsored them and all catered to the Who’s Who of the upper hustling class. Leslie knew everybody’s business. She knew who was fucking who, who was creeping with who, and who wanted to get crept on. She knew which chicks liked men, who went both ways, and who vacillated. Baby mamas, wives, and mistresses confided all to Leslie, and Leslie told all to Angel during the quiet of their intimacy. Thanks to Leslie, everyone became pawns in Angel’s plans.