Twisted Revenge

by Danielle James

  “Laurel, sweetheart don’t get me wrong. You’re amazing and all that but you’re still Laurel. Last night I just let my dick do the talking.” She cringed a bit and nodded sympathetically.

  “I think we all just gave into something primal last night.” She said.

  “Well shit, did anyone have fun?” I piped up. “It was supposed to be fun.”

  “It was very fun.” Xavier laughed. “Too much fun.”

  "Yeah, it was pretty bad ass." Laurel’s cheeks flushed and she took a sip of water.

  Well at least everyone was having fun. My main objective had been to take Laurel’s mind away from Christina but it just spiraled out of control. Like everything in my life.

  “Okay so, it was fun but are we agreed that it doesn’t happen again?” I said, swinging my eyes from Xavier to Laurel.

  “Yes.” They said in unison.

  Chapter Seven

  Dana

  Of course, it was raining when my private jet touched down at the airport in Santo Domingo. How poetic that I land in my hometown for the first time in more than 20 years and it's raining? At least my hotel suite was lush and had everything I asked for, that way I wouldn't have to go venturing out for anything.

  I was only 10 miles away from where I’d grown up in a modest little house right on the water. My hotel was on the very beach where I'd met Manny for the first time. The same one he stayed at on his visit. That's how I knew he put me here. Maybe it was his way of punishing me for everything throughout the years.

  Memories crashed down on me and I raised my hand to touch my diamond cross necklace. Why did God put me right back where I started?

  I shook the question from my head and said a silent prayer to stop the memories.

  Nothing worked though.

  I was 12 years old.

  A bean pole with sun-kissed island skin and my hair in two long, silky braids that hung down my back. I had a boyfriend even back then, Cesar. He was older than me at 16 and he had no business being with a 12-year-old but of course, back then I didn’t care.

  I had an older boy.

  One Saturday Cesar and I were at my house while my mother and father were at work, my sister Nicole was over her friend’s house and my brother Rashad was out doing who knows what, getting into trouble.

  Cesar was stretched out on the couch, searching for something to watch on TV. I was so angry because he wasn’t paying me any attention. He seemed more interested in stupid TV.

  Even back then I knew that boys liked ass and titties so I climbed on top of Cesar and pulled my shirt over my head. He laughed and told me I was trying to get him in trouble. “Where is your brother?” He asked. Everyone was always scared of Rashad because he ran with a gang, even though he was the little brother. I got angry and all I remember was the pounding in my head.

  “Rashad isn’t here!” I shouted and pushed my lips fervently against his. We were all hands and tongues wrapped up in each other and he tugged my panties down so he could finally take my virginity. Only then did the pain in my head cease.

  Once when my parents dragged my siblings and me to church against our will as usual; I was forced to wear these hideous stockings with little red butterflies on them. I was 13 years old! I felt like a little kid and I went into a rage, screaming and yelling in the backseat of the car. “Pull over, now Alma!” My father yelled at my mother who obeyed him instantly.

  My dad was a tall man but not big in stature at all, he was all legs and arms. He reached in the backseat and plucked me out from between my siblings. I screamed and told him the pressure in my head was too much. “I’ll beat it out of you then! You will not disrespect your parents!” He laid blows to my body like I was a grown man but the strange thing was that it helped me. I didn’t feel the pressure anymore because the pain took its place. After that, my mother was convinced I was a demon.

  When I was 16 my parents divorced because my father couldn’t deal with my constant outbursts and fits of rage. I would storm around the house like a tornado if anything upset me enough. The only sure things that helped me were sex and pain. I made sure I had plenty of both at my disposal. I got into relationships with some bad boys that liked to beat and screw me constantly, but I was addicted to it.

  My mother walked in on me having violent sex with one of my boyfriends. My lip was busted and bleeding but I was in heaven with his dick deep inside of me. My mother thought I was being raped and tried to pull my boyfriend off of me. I tried to explain to her right then about my…preferences. She would hear none of it though.

  It was then that she finally took me to see Dr. Lopez who was a member of our church.

  “Miss St. John how long have you had these violent episodes?” He asked.

  I looked around his office, small and neat with an orange couch against the wall and a slender wooden desk topped with a neat pile of folders and a white lamp.

  “Since I was 12 or 11.” I shrugged and pulled at a hangnail on my finger.

  Dr. Lopez scribbled in his notepad then looked up at me over the rims of his silver-framed glasses.

  “Tell me about the symptoms that accompany these episodes.”

  “Um, I get angry or panicked or sad, any type of feeling and I just get these headaches and urges.” I hated hearing myself talk about my demons. I felt dirty and wrong for even existing.

  “Urges?” His eyes asked me to speak more and I felt myself growing agitated and needing to move around.

  “Yes,” I huffed angrily. “I want to have sex. I like pain.” I emphasized and shifted on the couch.

  “So you experience these violent mood swings and a strong desire for sex and pain?” More scribbles in his notepad. “Do you experience happiness too? Is happiness one of your mood swings?” He asked.

  “Yes. Doesn’t everyone get happy?” I frowned.

  “Yes, they do.” More scribbles.

  I talked to Dr. Lopez for about three months before abruptly stopping. I missed him and asked my mother why I wasn’t seeing him anymore. She got angry with me and ignored my questions. I was left in the dark to fight with my demons.

  Every night my mother would lock the house down like Fort Knox so I couldn’t sneak out and every day she had my brother Rashad escort me to and from school so I couldn’t talk to any boys. The only place I could go without an escort was to church.

  When I saw Dr. Lopez at the church on a Saturday afternoon I ran up to him happily. He hadn’t been in church for months. “Dr. Lopez! Where have you been? How come I don’t have appointments anymore?” I asked.

  “Um…Miss St. John, your mother stopped our sessions and I’ve changed church families.”

  “What?” I frowned. “Why?”

  “Well, once I diagnosed you, your mother wanted to know what steps the church could take to make you better. When I told her that you needed medicine and more therapy she canceled the rest of our sessions.” He told me sadly.

  “You diagnosed me? With what? What’s wrong with me?” I stammered, anxious to know. Dr. Lopez placed a strong hand on my shoulder and looked around the church.

  “Let’s go somewhere more private.” He said gently. We took a walk to the beach and he looked over at me with kind chestnut eyes. “Dana you’re bipolar. It’s a disorder that causes you to have manic mood swings and the intense need for sex and violence also occurs during manic episodes. Bipolar patients often have a need for excessive sex. Some even have migraines and experience pain with their episodes. Your case is rather unique but not unheard of at all. With regular medicine to manage your mood swings and more sessions, you’ll be perfectly normal.” My mind was reeling from the diagnosis. The thought that I could be normal and not feel so much pain and need so much pain was like a breath of fresh air.

  “What kind of medicine?” I asked hurriedly.

  “Dana, your mother has made it clear that she doesn’t want you on any regimen that’s not from the church.”

  “Why?” I demanded.

  “I can’t be sure.
I don’t know what she thought I would tell her when she brought you to me. I really am sorry. You’ll be 18 soon and you can seek help without her. I would urge you to do that.” That was the last time I saw him. I was armed with knowledge of my condition and I confronted my mother about it.

  “Demons!” She barked. “You have demons. I don’t know what all this bipolar nonsense is but I do know that you need a true healer. Not some modern doctor that doesn’t believe in the healing of the Lord. God will heal you, Dana. If you believe, he will heal you.” She had so much conviction in her voice and she was the only one that didn’t leave me. Her methods may have been brutal but she instilled a true belief and fear of God in me.

  She was right too. The Lord sent Manny to me so that I could be healed. He gave me everything I needed. He took care of my physical needs and he pushed me to go to the doctor to get medicine.

  Emmanuel Scott was my savior.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Hotel staff jolted me from my memories, thankfully. When I unlocked the door and looked into the eyes of the hotel manager I froze.

  I was looking into the eyes of my little brother, Rashad. It was like seeing a ghost. A very unwelcome ghost at that. The way his lips curled up into a sneer let me know that he fully expected to see me.

  “Dana, welcome home.” He embraced me in his wiry but strong arms. I pried him off of me and scrambled back into my suite. Rashad followed, holding a bouquet of purple and yellow flowers. They fell to the table as he craned his neck to look around the suite. “You got the best suite. Nothing but the best for you though huh, big sis?” Rashad towered over me and looked just like our father with his lanky arms and legs and caramel brown skin. I watched him half expecting for him to hit me. I had to calm down.

  After all, this was my little brother.

  “Rashad, hello,” I forced a smile perfect enough for any camera.

  “What's up? Long time no see.” His Dominican accent was thick but I could tell he spoke English fluently to his guests during the day and Rashad still had the same charming crooked smile as when we were younger.

  “I've been busy. But yes, long time no see. How have you been Rashad?”

  “How have I been? Good. Trevor got me a good job here at the hotel. I moved up to manager once he moved to Florida.” A tight smile decorated my lips in response.

  “Trevor is a good man of God.” I nodded.

  “Yeah, he's definitely a good man. He handled losing his daughter so well.” Anger ripped through my body and I wanted to punch him in his face. I stretched my neck and lost the smile.

  “Don't do this, Rashad.”

  “Don't bring up the fact that you took my fucking niece right from under me? Had me thinking you were going back home but you took her away for good. Puta.” He looked like he could spit. His eyes were so cold and unforgiving. I looked away.

  “You don't know what I had to go through to make sure Camilla grew up properly! And she still turned out…” I couldn't finish my statement because the hatred I had for my own child was so deep I didn't want to mention her existence.

  “She turned out how? Just like her screwed up mother?”

  “Get out Rashad!” My body trembled with rage. I'd never felt such anger in my life. I hated looking at my brother’s face. It reminded me of all our escorted walks to and from school when he'd act older than me and like I was filthy and not worth the sand I walked on.

  “Get out? This is my hotel, Dana.” He sat on the couch, which seemed too small for his height and lit a cigarette. “You know I beat myself up for years over letting Camilla slip right through my fingers?” He shook his head and glared at me through the haze of smoke.

  “I'm not speaking to you. You wanna talk then you'll be speaking to yourself.” I turned on my heel and walked into the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I pressed my ear to the door, listening for him to leave. I heard him laugh, it was a laugh filled with spite. “Go head and run girl. It’s what you always do anyway. I’ll see you around, Dana.” The door to the main suite clicked shut softly and I exhaled. I reached up to touch my cross and realized my hands were shaking. Rashad had me so worked up that I felt an episode coming on.

  I tore apart my purse looking for the small brown pill bottle filled with Xanax. I swallowed the pill quickly and sank to the floor of my makeshift bedroom with my hands cupping my head.

  Chapter Eight

  Trevor

  Ever since I took Christina’s virginity, she’d been hanging around me like a puppy. I expected as much though. I knew what I was getting myself into taking a teenager’s virginity. I had to strike a careful balance between caring and aloof.

  At one in the morning when she called my phone, I was aloof. “I miss you,” she spoke in hushed tones.

  “Chris, I’m sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  End call.

  I knew she would be furious, she was the firecracker type but she needed to be trained now. She had to know that we were just fucking. I wanted to wrap her head and heart up but I had to be cautious about dipping in her too many times.

  Sunday afternoon meant Chris in my office opening emails and organizing files for me. She sat stiff-backed in the office chair focusing too hard on the screen. I walked up behind her and put my hand on her dainty shoulders. She softened at my touch.

  “I thought you were ignoring me,” She said hesitantly.

  “Oh, no. I just don’t do well having conversations at one in the morning,” I laughed.

  “Sorry. I just really missed you,” She turned to face me.

  “I wish this wasn’t so taboo,” She frowned. I tilted her chin up towards me.

  “It is what it is Chris. We should talk about that anyway.” She tensed again then she stood up. I took her hand and led her to the same couch I took her virginity on.

  “I broke up with Laurel,” she blurted out of nowhere. I fought the urge to groan and shut my eyes. Instead, I just ran a free hand through my locs and exhaled.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Chris.”

  “I just didn’t want to lead her on. I don’t know how I feel about everything.” She rubbed the back of her neck and intertwined her fingers with mine. Her hands were tiny in comparison to my long fingers and wide palms.

  “This is a very delicate situation. I like what we have going on but I’m also not gonna sit here and lie to you about what this is between us,” I told her bluntly. I didn’t want her romanticizing our affair in her mind. Christina swallowed hard and nodded her head. “This can’t be a relationship. It doesn’t matter what I want or what you want. There are other people to think about.”

  “Cami, Mom, Dad…Laurel.” She spoke softly as she rattled their names off.

  “Yeah. Exactly,” I paused a beat and continued. “Maybe we made a huge mistake, Christina but I don’t regret it.” I saw the tears when they welled up in her pretty eyes and I hated hurting her on purpose. I also didn’t want to get caught up with her. It would be too easy to do. If I fucked her the way she wanted me to she would be in love with me. It was tough deciphering if she was already in love as she spoke.

  “It was a mistake but I like this mistake.” She told me without letting the tears fall. She lifted her head up and kissed me. “I think about you all the time now.” She whispered against my mouth.

  “I know…I didn’t want that. You’re too young. You need to be wrapped up in a boy your age. Not your sister’s father.” Christina closed her eyes against the words coming from my mouth as if she could physically see them in the air.

  “I don’t care if we’re just fucking Trevor. I love how you make me feel.” She whimpered. “You make me feel so good.” My dick stiffened in my pants and I cursed to myself. She kissed me again and I couldn’t help sliding my hands under her shirt and groping her tits. Her bra was lacy and thin and I could feel her nipples harden at my touch. I placed soft kisses along her neck and she moaned so quietly it lit a fire in me.

  I needed to fu
ck her. She was so innocent and beautiful and her pussy was golden. “I want you to ride my dick.” I said against her ear.

  “I…I don’t know how to,” She stuttered.

  “I’ll show you,” I growled. I eased my hard cock inside of her pussy slowly so I didn’t feel the urge to cum. She was still so goddamn tight. She moved her hips around on top of me slowly at first, then I rotated her waist and hips to my rhythm and she caught on. Once she found her pace, I gripped her waist and shoved deeper inside of her.

  “Oh god!” She screamed. I clamped my hand over her mouth and pushed harder into her tight wet cunt. New pussy was going to get me caught the fuck up.

  “You gotta shut up.” I warned with my hand still over her mouth. She nodded and continued to slide up and down the length of my dick. With Christina bouncing on top of me, I couldn’t hold on to control for long. Luckily, she was ready to cum. A trickle of sweat rolled down her flat stomach and I caught it with my fingertip. She bit her lip and looked down at me, her hair framing her face. When I came I growled through clenched teeth and she squealed. It was a collision of beauty and the beast.

  “Trevor, that was so fucking good.” She whispered in my ear. I didn’t say much.

  I hadn’t even planned to fuck her right then. I figured I’d probably screw her a couple more times just for fun but I knew that time had her open. She practically had hearts around her head.

  “Christina, we gotta cut this back some, darling.” I kissed her forehead and watched her pout.

  “I told you I don’t care if we’re just having sex.”

  “I know but there’s too much going on right now.” I told her. “Don’t get me wrong, this shit is fun and you’re…” I looked her over and laughed a genuine laugh. “You’re fun too. Still, we’re being too reckless. If Manny finds out right now it won’t be good.” I had plans for letting everything be known, and now wasn’t the time.

  “Okay,” She looked down at her feet. Evidently mentioning her father made her straighten up a bit.