2 Timers

by Amaleka McCall

  “What the hell? Khalil! What’s going on?” Lyric screamed in full panic mode. Her buzz was fading fast. All eyes in the room were on her now.

  “I said I wanted to see you naked,” he repeated.

  Lyric stood in the middle of the floor, completely naked now. She couldn’t even use her hands to cover herself. Her face reddened. She was utterly humiliated.

  “Get off of me,” she gritted, trying in vain to shake off the hands that still gripped her arms.

  “Bring her to me,” Khalil ordered, his eyes running up and down her body.

  “You fucking punk. You just going to do me like this in front of everyone?” Lyric spat, the heat of embarrassment setting her entire body on fire.

  “Touch yourself,” Khalil demanded. Lyric spat in his direction.

  “Fuck you, Prince.”

  Khalil nodded again, and the man clutching Lyric’s left arm twisted it painfully. Lyric buckled to the floor. She searched the crowd for a friendly face. Her friend Bethany was nowhere to be seen.

  “Touch yourself,” Khalil commanded again in an utterly bored tone. The man was a sociopath.

  With tears in her eyes, Lyric reached down and touched her clitoris, putting pressure on it until it began to visibly swell. In response, Khalil slid his hand down to his crotch.

  “Now, come touch me,” he demanded as he stroked himself roughly.

  “Please don’t do this. Not like this. We can go somewhere more private if you like . . .” Lyric pleaded.

  “Come touch me. Don’t answer back again,” Khalil said, his voice decidedly irritated. Lyric felt the heat of everyone’s eyes on her. She froze in place, unable to move.

  “Crawl to me. On your knees,” he commanded.

  Lyric let out an audible sob as Khalil’s men pushed her down on her knees. She crawled over to Khalil, her eyes gazing down at the beautiful marble floors. When she reached his chair, she glanced up. His lips parted with a wicked smile.

  “Now, beg for it,” he hissed, clearly turned on by her subservient position.

  Lyric stared at the floor, refusing to comply with his demands.

  “You don’t want to beg for it? Like you begged for my drugs, huh? All of a sudden, you have pride?” Khalil stood abruptly. He grabbed a handful of Lyric’s hair and pulled her head up to look her in the eyes.

  “You belong to me now. Do you understand? This is what you wanted, right? Drugs, attention, to party all day and all night? That’s what all of you whores want, right?” Khalil growled, yanking on Lyric’s hair, snapping her head backward.

  “Ow!” she hollered. “You sick fuck. What kind of man gets off by hurting women?”

  “Let her go! Get the fuck off of her! You can’t do that to my friend in front of everybody like this!” Bethany yelled, her blond head making its way to the front of the room. Khalil let out a loud, raucous laugh. He jerked his chin in Bethany’s direction. Three more men rushed over, hoisting Bethany up and carrying her, kicking and screaming, toward another room.

  “Your friend is right. I shouldn’t do this in front of everyone,” Khalil said, his demeanor fully composed. “Take her to the room,” he commanded.

  “Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this . . . this place,” Lyric promised. Her high was totally gone now. Sheer terror had a sobering effect.

  “I will let you go when I’m done with you,” Khalil said. “For now, get comfortable being here. And remember, this is what you wanted.”

  Chapter 12

  Harmony

  Harmony groaned as she lifted the heavy bucket of mold remover paint.

  “You shouldn’t be trying to lift that.” The deep baritone voice sent shockwaves down her spine.

  “Oh my goodness, Captain Bird . . . I mean . . . Blake,” Harmony gasped, fussing with her frazzled hair, trying to smooth it back from her face. “I wasn’t expecting you.” She used her forearm to wipe the sweat and grime from her face. Her heart was pounding. Her cheeks flushed red, and her toes automatically curled inside her sneakers.

  “Your contractors should be doing this. That’s what you pay them for,” Blake said, flashing his perfect teeth. He walked over and lifted the bucket from her arms with ease. “I thought during our last conversation we talked about this.”

  As promised, Blake had helped Harmony deal with the insurance adjusters and to find a contractor that could complete the work the fastest for the least amount of money. They usually scheduled their meetings in advance, and Harmony made sure she looked decent each time they met. Today, Blake had caught her off guard sans makeup with her hair resembling a bird’s nest, and no time to remedy either situation.

  Harmony adjusted her raggedy, paint-stained T-shirt and tugged on the waistband of her dirt-covered sweatpants. It was no use. She looked a mess, and there was no fixing it. Blake, on the other hand, looked handsome dressed in a pair of neatly starched Dockers and a three-button Polo that hit his chest in the right places. His freshly lined up haircut accented the one patch of gray in the front of his head. Harmony thought the gray made him look distinguished.

  “All you should be doing is supervising the contractors and telling them what to do,” he said, arms folded across his chest.

  “I know, but with everything going on here, I’ve been trying to do as much as I can myself to keep the costs down,” she confessed. “Without being able to hold the dance and theatre classes, things are looking . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. She had said too much already. She didn’t want him to think of her as a charity case. “I shouldn’t be bothering you with this stuff,” she said, rubbing her sweaty palms on the front of her sweatpants. “You’ve done enough already. I still think it was your report that helped me get as much as I did from the insurance.”

  “It’s really no big deal. I tell you what,” Blake said, lowering the bucket to the floor. “I’ll let you hold your recital rehearsal classes at the firehouse—you can use it as a makeshift studio in the short term. I’ll get some of my guys to come over during their downtime to help you with other tasks—especially ones involving heavy lifting. They can log it as community service hours. We’ll make sure you get your place up and running without having to cancel the recital your students have worked so hard for all year. That’s a win-win, right?” he said with a grin and wink.

  Harmony’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “That’s very generous of you, but I can’t let you do that. We’d be putting you all out,” she waved. “Besides, you must not know what it’s like to have thirty little ballerinas giggling and running around. Do you really want your fire station being overrun by little girls in pink tutus?” she chuckled at the image.

  “Listen, my guys don’t care about that—most of them have young kids at home, anyway. When we’re not out on calls, all we do is sit around that place and eat, play cards, and watch TV. Most don’t even exercise during off time because the job keeps us in shape; the few that do work out can use the weights outside, at the back of the house. I’ll clear out the recreation room and leave you the space to hold classes,” Blake said.

  Harmony shook her head again. “I really can’t—”

  “I insist,” he said firmly.

  “That is so nice of you . . .” Harmony replied on the brink of tears.

  “I do have one favor to ask, though,” Blake said.

  Harmony tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.

  “I’d like to take you to dinner—no strings attached. You need to take a break from all of this,” he said as he gazed at the heaps of old hardwood and paint-stripped walls.

  Harmony averted her eyes and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She looked down at her wedding ring and quickly turned the tiny diamond backward into the palm of her hand.

  “I’m . . . um . . . married,” she stammered. It needed to be said. She couldn’t have Blake get the wrong impression. The last thing she needed was more drama in her life.

  Blake raised his hands, palms up.

 
“I understand. This is a friendly dinner, not a romantic one,” he said, lifting his right hand, as if taking an oath. “If your husband is around, he’s welcome to come as well. I don’t think I’ve run into him yet.”

  Harmony swallowed hard. “He’s . . . um . . . he’s not. I mean, we are married, but at the moment . . . he’s not . . . we are not . . . It’s complicated.” She smiled weakly. She couldn’t get the right words to come out. She’d been so busy getting Dance and More ready to reopen that she hadn’t had time to even think about her current situation with Ron. The state of her marriage was a mystery, even to herself.

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It was just an invitation. You can say no, and I’m still going to be your friend and help you out. I was just joking about dinner being a return favor. There’s no quid pro quo necessary here.”

  Harmony shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her sweats and swayed slightly on her feet. Her stomach fluttered.

  “Let me think about it,” she said. “I have so much going on. I don’t know if I’ll have time for dinner.”

  Blake nodded. “That’s fair. Take as long as you need. You have my card. In the meantime, I’ll get that rec room ready for you and the little ladies.” He grinned and she watched him haul the bucket across the room before heading for the door.

  Her mind raced in a million directions. The man was incredibly handsome and charming. She was honest enough with herself to acknowledge that she had become very attracted to him. Maybe a nice night out for dinner was exactly what she needed. All work and no pleasure had definitely taken its toll on her.

  Smiling and optimistic, she went to check on her instructors at the front desk.

  “Shhhh. Put it away. Don’t let her see it. Hurry,” Kimmy whispered to Dani. Both girls were scrambling to hide something behind the front desk.

  “Don’t let me see what?” Harmony inquired, looking around them.

  Kimmy’s eyes were stretched so huge they started to water at the edges. Dani had both of her hands behind her back like a kid caught stealing candy.

  “It’s really nothing,” Dani chuckled nervously. Her left eye was twitching, giving her away. Whenever Dani offered up a lame excuse for showing up late to work, her eye did the same thing.

  “Then let me see,” Harmony said, moving sideways so she could see what Dani was holding. “It can’t be nothing because you both look guilty as hell.”

  “Really, Ms. Harmony, you should just pass on this one,” Kimmy said, gnawing on her bottom lip. “It’s kind of bad.”

  Dani sucked her teeth at Kimmy.

  “Well, it is,” Kimmy retorted.

  “It can’t be that bad after all we’ve been through these last few weeks. Now hand it over,” Harmony pressed with her hand outstretched, waiting expectantly.

  Dani reluctantly pulled a magazine from behind her back and handed it to Harmony.

  Harmony’s eyebrows dipped. “US Weekly? That’s what you were hiding?” she asked, incredulously.

  Kimmy made a mousy noise, and Dani collapsed into a chair like she’d suddenly lost all strength in her legs.

  “What’s the big deal?” Harmony asked in confusion.

  She looked down at the magazine and flipped to the only page in it that was dog-eared. Harmony sucked in her breath as she scanned the tabloid pictures. Her entire body went cold, like someone had just injected ice water into her veins. She rubbed her eyes and silently prayed that they were deceiving her. She looked at the girls who were both staring at her with sympathy.

  “I’m so sorry,” Dani offered. “We wish you didn’t have to see that.”

  Harmony’s eyes roved back down to the incriminating pictures. She swallowed the hard lump that had formed in the back of her throat and read the caption under the picture.

  Melody Love sneaks out with new love interest, former child star Ronald Bridges. Bridges is married to Melody’s sister, Harmony, former member of Sista Love. As we all know, Sista Love had a bad breakup, but the sisters recently reunited when their mother was found dead in her house. Looks like Melody has finally moved on from Sly—but with her sister’s husband. This tea is so hot it will burn down the house! Stay tuned for more as this family saga unfolds.

  Harmony couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She could only stare at the picture of Melody and Ron exiting a vehicle together. Her sister’s hand was held trustingly in Ron’s. She felt sick to her stomach. Her sister and her husband—she didn’t think she’d ever felt so betrayed—not even by Ava.

  “I’m so sorry, Ms. Harmony,” Kimmy said softly.

  “The story is running in People, Gossip Mag, OK! and In Touch too. Just so you know . . .” Dani offered, her voice trailing off at the end.

  Harmony closed her eyes for a few long seconds. She couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood from her pounding heart. Her hands curled around the magazine until the picture crumpled. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again.

  “Get back to work, ladies. We have a lot to do around here,” Harmony said in a surprisingly calm tone. Dani and Kimmy looked at each other, shocked.

  “I mean it. Let’s get to work,” Harmony repeated, trying like hell to hold on to her composure. Both girls scrambled from behind the desk and headed to the back of the studio. When they were gone, Harmony took one last look at the picture of her sister and her husband. Melody had, once again, taken everything she loved from her.

  “You won’t get away with this, Melody. Not this time,” Harmony whispered through her sobs. “Not this time.”

  Chapter 13

  Melody

  Loud banging roused Melody from a drug-induced sleep. Her head pounded from being jolted awake. She groaned. Who could be banging on her door? She told everyone that she was not working or handling any business issues right now.

  Since Sly and Terikka’s baby announcement to the world, Melody had been using Percocet and Ambien to relax and sleep. She had been careful to stay away from the usual places the paparazzi harangued her.

  “Gary?” Melody called out, her voice still gruff with sleep. She’d only allowed Gary to visit her at home. Melody had given him limited power of attorney so that he could keep on top of her business dealings while she took a mental break. So far, Gary had been doing a great job of keeping everyone away.

  The loud knocks came again.

  “Gary!” Melody screamed louder this time, causing the pounding in her head to increase. No answer. She groaned, throwing her comforter back and forcing herself to sit up. Her head swam for a few seconds before she got her bearings. More loud knocks propelled her to her feet. She didn’t bother with her robe or slippers.

  “Who the hell?” Melody grumbled as she made her way to the door. “This better be fucking life or death,” she hissed as she yanked the door open. Her words tumbled back down her throat like she’d swallowed a handful of marbles. Her eyes bulged.

  “Harmony?” she said, her mouth agape.

  “I’m probably the last person you expected to see, right, Melody?” Harmony said through her teeth, her nostrils flaring.

  You damn right.

  “You’re my sister. Why shouldn’t you visit me?” Melody replied, her voice rising and falling, the nervousness ringing loud and clear.

  “Come in. Come in,” Melody said, quickly gathering her composure and stepping aside to allow her sister inside. “Things are dark around here. I gave my help off for the week so that I could get some rest and go off the grid.”

  “Oh, this won’t take long. I’m actually kind of glad we’re alone,” Harmony replied stiffly, stepping inside Melody’s Upper East Side loft that few people knew about. The place was much smaller than Melody’s other properties. It had been one of the first places she purchased when Sista Love started making real money.

  “How’d you know I would be here?” Melody inquired.

  “A sister’s intuition,” Harmony replied sarcastically.

 
“Well, as you can see, not much has changed.” Melody opened her arms, making reference to Sista Love’s two platinum plaques hanging on the walls and the first two Grammy Awards sitting on the glass shelves on the wall.

  “Is everything, okay, Harm? Do you want to have a seat?” Melody asked, pointing to the sofa.

  “I don’t want to sit. I’m not staying long,” Harmony said abruptly.

  “Okay . . .” Melody’s voice trailed in confusion.

  “You know, Melody, I thought when I saw you, I’d be so upset that I wouldn’t be able to speak. I thought I would just rush in here and tear your hair out from the roots,” Harmony said evenly.

  Melody’s stomach began to churn. “What . . . what are you—” she started.

  “I’m getting to it,” Harmony cut her off.

  Melody’s lips snapped shut.

  “Like I was saying. The fact that I am not nearly as upset as I thought I would be tells me that I am at a different place in my life. But I guess when it comes to you, I’ve always been at a different place in my life.”

  “Harmony, this cryptic speech is not necessary. We’re adults. Get to it.” Melody folded her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently.

  “I’ll get to the point of today’s visit when I’m ready. But first, I want you to think back to Christmas of 1997. I was ten and you were eight years old.” Harmony’s hands curled into fists at her side.

  Melody rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. Since Ava’s death, she had been bombarded by her sisters’ need to bring up the past.

  “Not another one of these strolls down memory lane, Harmony. I’ve had enough of living in the past with you and Lyric,” she snarled. “We were kids, and that’s all behind us now. Can’t we just move on?”

  “I was ten, you were eight,” Harmony continued, ignoring Melody’s complaints. “Ava had put up a beautiful Christmas tree, and she’d decorated it with all sorts of special ornaments—gold ones, sparkly white ones, and even those teardrop crystal ones that she claimed to have inherited from her grandmother. It was shaping up to be a very good Christmas. She told us to make a list of the things we wanted that year. ‘Don’t put more than three things on your list, Harmony,’ she said to me.” Harmony’s voice cracked with emotion.