Killing Them Softly

by Glenn, Roy

  "I’m afraid not," Weinstein said.

  "Well, thank you for getting back to me, Mr. Weinstein. I’ll give him a call," I said, and slammed down the phone in its cradle. What now? I thought as I dialed Tyrone’s cell number. "Damn!" I said out loud when I heard the message saying that the number was no longer in service.

  Then I called him at his office and got no answer. I left a message on his voice mail. "Tyrone, this is Avonte. Could you give me a call at your earliest convenience, please?" I said, and then I called him at the house. "Tyrone. You need to call me and explain why you told Weinstein not to give me anymore money," I said, trying to be clam about it, but I was mad as hell. Tyrone had no reason to cut me off. We had an agreement, and he was going to live up to his part of it.

  I was about to call my lawyer when the phone rang. I looked at the display; it was Tyrone calling me back from his office. I tried to clam myself down before I answered. The last thing I needed or wanted was an angry conversation with him. "Hello," I said in my nicest voice.

  "Hello, Avonte. I see I missed a call from you."

  "Yes, you did. I just got off the phone with Weinstein, and he said that you told him to discontinue making maintenance payments to me until you gave him instructions to the contrary."

  "That’s right," he replied, like it was no big deal.

  "Would you mind explaining to me why that is?"

  "I really don’t have time for this right now, Avonte."

  "Well make the time, Tyrone."

  "Look, why don’t I give you a call later this evening. Or better yet, why don’t you meet me for dinner tonight, and we can talk about it then."

  "I don’t think that’s a good idea."

  "Why not?"

  "I have plans for the evening," I said to him, even though I had no plans to do anything except wait for Qianna to crawl between my thighs.

  "Oh, that’s right, I forgot, you’re quite the socialite these days, aren’t you, Avonte?"

  "What are you talking about, Tyrone?"

  "Like I said, Avonte, I really don’t have time to go into this with you now. I’ll call you later."

  "Don’t hang up on me, Tyrone. Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?"

  "Why can’t you meet me tonight?"

  "Because to be honest with you; I don’t want to see you, Tyrone. I don’t see any reason why you just can’t take a minute right now, and tell me why you’re doing this."

  "And I don’t see any reason why, if you really wanted to know, that you can’t meet me."

  "Tyrone," I said, knowing he could hear the absolute frustration in my voice, "you could have told me your reasoning by now. I just don’t understand why we have to go through these changes, when we have an agreement."

  "Yes, Avonte, we do have an agreement. And if you had taken the time to actually read the agreement, you would already know the answer to your question."

  "What is that supposed to mean, Tyrone?"

  "Exactly what I said. If you had bothered to read the agreement that you signed before you signed it, or at any other time since then, you would know why you won’t be getting any money from me this month, or any other month."

  "Tyrone, this is stupid. Why don’t you just go ahead and tell me?"

  "Because making you squirm is so much sweeter."

  "You always could be a bastard when you wanted to."

  "And you always were a dumb bitch, Avonte."

  "Fuck you."

  "Yeah, fuck you, too. But you still aren’t getting one thin dime from me, and that makes you a dumb bitch."

  "You know what—it doesn’t even matter. Why don’t I just have my lawyer give you a call, ’cause I don’t have to sit and listen to you call me a dumb bitch. ’Cause the only dumb-bitch move I made was marrying you."

  "No, Avonte. You made two dumb-bitch moves. The first was signing that prenup without reading it."

  "You keep saying that, so why don’t you just tell me what it says?"

  "Meet me at Shooters tonight and I’ll tell you."

  "No, Tyrone, I already told you, I have plans."

  "Yeah, I keep forgetting what a social butterfly you are. So who’s it gonna be tonight?"

  "What are you talking about?" I asked, but I figured that he knew I was dating, and didn’t like it.

  "Who’s it gonna be tonight, Avonte; Devin or Qianna?"

  "What?" I said, in total shock that he knew their names.

  "Which one are you gonna fuck tonight? Are you gonna fuck Devin James or Qianna? Not sure what her last name is. Or if that’s even her name."

  "Have you been spying on me?"

  "Yes. Well not me personally, but yes."

  "You have no right."

  "I have every right. You are still my wife."

  "I don’t know who your sources are, but Mr. James and I are just friends, and even if there was something between us, it is no concern of yours—especially after you and your blonde whore."

  "See, Avonte, that’s what makes you a dumb bitch. Who you see and what you do is my concern."

  "What makes you think so?"

  "Because you are still my wife; and if you had read that prenup, you’d know that by becoming involved with these individuals, you have violated the terms of the agreement, and that has the effect of making the terms of the agreement null and void," Tyrone said, laughing heartily.

  "You really are a bastard, Tyrone."

  "And you are such a dumb bitch, Avonte."

  "Yeah, well, we’ll see who the dumb bitch is after I talk to my lawyer."

  "You can talk to him about anything you want. And after he reads the agreement you signed, he’ll explain to you that you aren’t gonna get shit from me. And then he’ll tell you what a dumb bitch you are for signing it without reading it."

  "Asshole!"

  "Whatever. Like I said, if you want to talk about this, I’ll be at Shooters later on tonight. I know I’ll see you there."

  "Don’t hold your breath," I said with tears in my eyes, and slammed the phone down in its cradle. Now I understood why Tyrone didn’t seem to be in any rush to file for the divorce. The bastard was setting me up to do this the whole time. After I called and spoke with my lawyer, and he read the agreement, I knew that Tyrone was right. I was a dumb bitch.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Qianna

  I gotta be honest wit’ you, I always have been one dick-happy ho. You know what I’m sayin’? I’m talkin’ ’bout excited to the point of tears at the sight of a big fat, juicy one. The feel of dick in my hand, in my mouth, makes my clit swell. Soft and silky when I touch it, but hard and firm inside me. I looked over my shoulder. This nigga here got a big pretty dick.

  I could fuck Devin everyday, all day, the dick’s so fuckin’ good. Even little Cutie and the magic strap, can’t compare to this nigga here. Truth was, Devin got a bitch dick-whipped, but he don’t need to know all that, and I damn sure wasn’t ’bout to tell him.

  He spread my cheeks and slowly moved in and out of me, inchin’ deeper and deeper in my ass. The deeper he got, the wetter I got. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his stiffness inside me. The thickness of him filled me, the warmth of him inside me, long and stiff, excited me. My hips shook and I began to shake from the inside. I tried to slow my roll, but I couldn’t. I felt like I was outside myself. And the feelin’ only intensified the motion of my hips. When I felt him throbbing inside me, I was no longer able to control myself.

  I guess you could say that we were havin’ make-up sex, ’cause the nigga came up in here like he was all mad and shit. For a minute there, I really thought the mutha fucka was really ’bout to try and kick my ass. I woulda hated to kill him, good as this dick is, but I would cut his fuckin throat if he put his hands on me.

  When I called him about gettin’ the rest of my money, Devin started trippin’. Not about the money; about the way the shit went down. "What you talkin’ ’bout? The bitch is done like I said she’d be. Wh
at’s the problem?"

  "You know what, Qianna, it don’t even matter. I just need to meet you somewhere; and we do this and be done with it."

  "That’s fine with me. So you wanna meet me at the apartment in like an hour or something?"

  "No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why don’t you meet me at Lombardi’s on Spring Street?"

  "Lombardi’s? What the fuck is that?"

  "It’s a restaurant."

  "Why you wanna meet there?"

  "I’m hungry."

  Since I had more in mind than food, I told Devin that I wasn’t feelin’ all good and I didn’t feel like goin’ to no restaurant. It took a minute, but he finally agreed to meet me at Cutie’s apartment.

  When I heard the bell ring, I got out of bed, put on a black silk robe, and went to the door. I opened the door and Devin walked past me without lookin’. I smiled and closed the door.

  As soon as I turned around, he tried to shove a paper bag in my hand. I walked by him without lookin’, and made him follow me. I could feel his eyes on my body. He grabbed me by the arm and spun me around.

  "Don’t walk away from me," Devin said.

  I broke loose from him and took a step back. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

  Devin threw the paper bag at me, and some of the money fell out. "Just take your damn money," he said, and turned to leave.

  I grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute, Devin. You need to tell me what the fuck you so mad about." I took a step closer and put my body on him. "I did what you wanted me to do. You wanted the bitch done. I don’t get what you so mad about."

  Devin pushed me off him. "I paid you to kill her, not tie her to our bed and execute her!"

  "I just made it look like she was raped. You know, so I wouldn’t be a suspect. I wanted to make it look like a robbery gone bad."

  "That’s another damn thing. We talked about getting the jewelry, not my computer, my music system, and my television."

  "How many times I got to say this. I made it look a robbery gone wrong, not a murder for hire. The robbery and rape shit was all part of that."

  "You didn’t say anything about bringing some man along to rape her!" Devin yelled, and came toward me.

  "I didn’t bring no man wit’ me!" I yelled back. I looked around the room for my purse, but didn’t see it. It’s probably in the bedroom where I can’t get to it quickly, if I have to. I knew he was mad, so I should have had my knife ready. "I tied her to the bed and used a vibrator on her to make it look like she was raped."

  "Don’t lie to me!"

  "I ain’t got no reason to lie to you, mutha fucka. You believe what you wanna believe," I said, and backed away from him. I started moving toward the bedroom.

  "Where you going?"

  "To get a cigarette," I said, and went in the bedroom. Devin followed me in and was right on top of me as I reached for it. I sat down on the bed and got the cigarettes out. Then I moved the knife so I could get to it, and set it down on the bed beside me.

  I lit up, and Devin stood over me breathin’ hard. "If you just used a vibrator on her, then how do you explain the cops finding semen in her?"

  "What?"

  "You heard me! The cops said they got a sample they collected, and they’re runnin’ it against their database. So don’t you sit there and tell me that you didn’t have some man rape her, before the two of you cut her throat."

  I blew smoke in his face. "Look, Devin, you can believe me if you want to, but I don’t know nothin’ ’bout that shit. The only one that was wit’ me was this little cutie I fuck wit’ sometimes, and she was just there to help me carry the shit out. She never even went upstairs. And even if she did, she ain’t got no dick."

  "Then tell me what the cops got in their fuckin’ rape kit?"

  "I don’t know, but I did see a man leavin’ your house."

  "What you talkin’ about, Qianna? What man?"

  "I’m tellin’ you that when we got there, we saw a man leavin’ your house. We had been parked about ten minutes when I saw somebody comin’, and they looked like they had come from your house."

  "What he look like?"

  "White boy with blonde hair. I figured it was either one of your friends, or maybe wifey was just playin’ crazy. Either way, he didn’t need to see us sittin’ there. I told Cutie to get down, and we both crouched down in our seats until he was gone."

  "Was she awake when you killed her?"

  "No."

  "How long after he left did you go inside?"

  "Had to be a least another half-hour before we got out and went in the house."

  Devin didn’t say anything. "That would still be enough time."

  "Time for what?"

  "If she took her pills after he left, it would still be enough time for her to be out when you got to her."

  "You thinkin’ she was fakin’ that crazy shit, and fuckin’ this white boy?"

  "Yeah. That’s what I’m thinking," Devin said, and dropped his head.

  I stood up and tried to reach out for him. He grabbed the nape of my neck, pulled me closer, and kissed my neck. It felt as if waves of current comin’ from my clit spread throughout my body. Like a greedy crack fiend, I quickly unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his pants, and reached inside his briefs. I felt its warmth then glided my hands up and down his dick. I unbuttoned his shirt; the feeling of his chest against my nipples made them swell.

  He massaged my titties gently, squeezing my nipples. Devin started kissing and licking my neck, sucking and gently biting my ear lobes. Then his index finger found my clit. I reached for his shoulders to steady myself; my knees locked, my body shuddered from the inside out.

  I pushed Devin down on the bed and straddled him. I grabbed hold of that dick and glided it inside me. He put his hands on my ass, and my hands dropped to his chest. I could hear him moaning quietly, his face twisted and contoured. He throbbed and I felt him expand; my fingers dug into his chest. His body became ridged; I pumped harder. His mouth was open; his eyes were locked in mine now.

  After we got through fuckin’, Devin got up and started gettin’ dressed. I picked up the money off the floor, and put it back in the bag. "I know there’s no need for me to count this."

  "It’s all there," he said and turned to leave.

  "Before you go, I want you to know I ain’t mad at you, Devin. I hate it that you mad at me. But come back and get this pussy when you calm down."

  "Good-bye, Qianna." Devin turned around and walked out of the apartment. I took the money out of the bag and counted it. He was as good as his word. The money was all there.

  I picked up the phone and told Cutie it was cool for her to come back. She was mad cool about the whole thing. I didn’t want her having any contact with Devin. I haven’t even mentioned his name to her. Cutie doesn’t know that it was his house we robbed, or that while she was gatherin’ up the goodies, I was upstairs killin’ wifey. All she knew was that we robbed a house and got paid. The less a bitch know, the better.

  When Cutie got back to the apartment, my cell started ringing. It was Avonte, and she was cryin’ so much that I really couldn’t make out a word she was sayin’. Cutie just looked at me and shook her head. "You got too much drama in your life for me."

  I put my finger over my lips. "Calm down, Avonte, and tell me what’s wrong."

  "Why don’t you tell her to meet you over here, too," Cutie suggested, and sucked her teeth.

  "You don’t mind?"

  "No, I got a date anyway," she said, and went in the bedroom.

  "Avonte, listen to me. I’m at a friend’s apartment. Why don’t you come here, and we can talk about whatever it is that got you like this."

  Avonte agreed, and I told her where Cutie lived.

  I didn’t see Cutie anymore until I heard the doorbell ring. I started to get up to answer, but Cutie came out of the bedroom, dressed in a short black dress that was huggin’ that sexy-ass body, and said, "I’ll get it."

  I got a little jealous ’bout her g
oin’ on a date, but shit, Devin was here earlier, and Avonte was at the door, so what the fuck could I say.

  Cutie opened the door, and Avonte walked in. "Avonte, this is my friend Cutie."

  "It’s good to finally meet you, Cutie. Qianna talks about you all the time," Avonte said, while she drooled over Cutie.

  "She talks about you a lot too. And Avonte . . ."

  "Yes."

  "You can call me Angel. Only this bitch here gets to call me Cutie. You ladies have a good night. Don’t bother to wait up," Cutie said, and closed the door behind her.

  "What was that about?" Avonte said, as she came to sit next to me on the couch.

  "Just what she said. Her name is Angel. I’m the only bitch that get to call her Cutie."

  "Oh."

  There was something about the way she said "Oh" that I didn’t like.

  It was more like, "Oh, we’ll see about that." I knew I had to watch this bitch now.

  "Tell me what you was so upset about. I could hardly understand what you was sayin’ on the phone."

  "I’m sorry about that. I had a chance to calm down on the cab ride over here. I’m better now."

  "Well, what was wrong?"

  Avonte told me some shit about her husband havin’ somebody spyin’ on her and shit. That he knew about her fuckin’ with me and Devin, and because she signed some shit she didn’t read; I don’t know. Bottom line, he was cutin’ her out of the money.

  "That’s fucked up. What you gonna do now?"

  "I’ve got to get a job."

  That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. Avonte told me that she ain’t never had a job in her life. "Doin’ what?"

  "I don’t know, but I’ll find something."

  "What you gonna do for money?"

  "I got some money saved. I’ll probably have to move out of my apartment, and cut back on some things to make that money last. But I’ll be all right."

  "Didn’t you say that he was cheatin’ on you with some blonde bitch, and that he had her all up in your house?"

  "That’s right."

  "So how can he say that you ain’t gonna get shit ’cause you doin’ the same shit he doin’?"

  "That’s just the way it is."