“Melody, I know you don’t like getting emotional in front of people, so why don’t we step out of the studio and talk in private?” Gary implored. His voice was high-pitched and quivery. His eyes were misty with tears.
Melody reluctantly followed him out of the dance studio doors and into the small private changing room. Her stomach churned with anxiety.
“Mel, you might want to sit down, honey,” he said softly, his mouth dipping at the edges.
“Just tell me what’s going on, Gary. I have a tour coming up. I don’t have time for another Ava antic. How bad can it be? I mean, did she get drunk again and make a spectacle of herself in front of the paparazzi? Did she go harass some record executive, screaming about how great she once was? Or wait, let me guess, she got caught giving head to another much-younger NBA player in the back of some sports car? No, I have a better one. She went to the Ritz and asked to be put up in the presidential suite, free of charge, because she is the mother of Melody Love?”
“No, Mel. It’s much worse, hon.” Gary lowered his head, and wrung his fingers together in front of him. He cleared his throat but refused to look Melody in the eyes.
“What can be worse than—”
“Ava is dead,” Gary said in a rush of breath. Melody’s mouth snapped shut. “I got the call from Murray today.”
Melody didn’t move an inch. She was in complete shock.
“Mel? Are you okay?” Gary grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close for a hug. Melody kept her arms down at her sides and didn’t return his embrace. Her body was as rigid as a board.
“She’s dead, baby girl. I’m so sorry,” Gary consoled. His words fell on deaf ears.
* * *
“It all makes sense now, Gary. Murray wouldn’t have called you. He would’ve called me directly. But you knew she was dead before Murray could even get to me. You knew because you did it,” Melody accused.
Gary shook his head sadly. “I told you she was crazy,” he said to the detective.
The officers forced Melody’s head down into the waiting car.
“You won’t get away with this,” she screamed, banging her head against the bulletproof glass.
Gary had the audacity to actually wave good-bye to her. She couldn’t wait until she called her lawyer and posted bail. Gary was a dead man.
When the police car pulled out of the plane’s hangar, reporters surrounded the vehicle. Melody saw Tanya Trent, a well-known gossip columnist, ready to give the world the juicy news about her arrest. Tanya had hated Melody for years; it had always been Gary’s job to handle her. Unfortunately, an unholy alliance had been formed, and now Gary stood at Tanya’s side like they were part of the same team.
Tanya peeked into the cop car with a wicked smile before she began her live broadcast.
“In breaking news, we are outside of the jetport here in Long Island. WKTZ is the first to bring you this story. Melody Love was pulled off of her private jet a few minutes ago and placed under arrest for the murder of her mother, Ava Love, former disco diva.
“As previously reported, Ava Love was found dead in her home three months ago under suspicious circumstances. A late medical examiner’s report ruled the death a homicide. A police spokesperson confirmed that the attack on Terikka Felix that resulted in the loss of her unborn child was not carried out by Melody Love; however, there is evidence to suggest that she may have helped orchestrate the attack. No further details are available at this time.
“We at WKTZ, as well as Melody’s millions of fans, are shocked by these developments. Here with us now is Melody’s manager, Gary Sithe. Gary, any thoughts that you would like to share with our viewers?”
“Tanya, I am truly as shocked as everyone else about this news. As you know, I have worked for Melody for years and considered her more than a friend . . . She is like family to me. Melody had a mean streak, and she could sometimes get downright abusive toward me and others who worked for her. But never in my wildest imagination could I believe that her anger would manifest itself in something so evil. I am truly shocked; I count myself lucky that I did not become one of her victims.”
“There you have it. Gary Sithe, Melody’s longtime manager and best friend, breathing a sigh of relief over Melody’s arrest. Reporting for WKTZ, I am Tanya Trent. Back to you at the station.”
* * *
Melody didn’t have a chance to scream, kick, or spit before the police car pulled free from the reporters. She hung her head and let the tears fall. She said a silent prayer and made a vow to herself. This wasn’t the end of Melody Love. She would be back with a vengeance.
Chapter 20
Lyric
A sharp pain seared through Lyric’s head as she struggled to open her eyes. She moaned as the sunlight filtered through the window. She wished she never had to open her eyes.
Rebel stirred on the air mattress at the foot of Lyric’s bed.
“Lyric?” he called out.
“Where am I? What’s going on?” she croaked out, still unable to open her eyes fully without pain. Her mouth and throat were desert dry and her lips were cracked and painful.
“Harmony’s house,” Rebel said, standing up and moving to her side.
“I came and got you two days ago from that crazy dude, Khalil,” Rebel explained, reaching out and grabbing her hand.
Lyric shivered. “You should’ve just left me there,” she rasped, turning her face away. The things that she’d endured made her want to give up on life. She would never trust another man again.
“I couldn’t leave you there, Lyric. I know we’ve been through some shit together, but you have to know that I never meant to hurt you. I love you, Lyric. Always have and always will.”
Lyric could see that he spoke the truth, though pain laced his words. She used her free hand to feel her hair, and then her face. She could only imagine how bad she must look.
“I need to get out of here,” she said, pulling her hand back. “I’m going to be dope sick and real messed up if I stay here.” She tried to sit up, but she was too weak to lift herself off of the pillows.
“You have to stay here. I got you some methadone. In a day or two, you won’t need the drugs. After you get a little stronger, your sister has agreed to take you to a detox,” Rebel said.
“I don’t want to go to a detox,” Lyric raised her voice. “Don’t you and my sisters get it? I want to get high until I die. I am used up. Abused. Unloved. Can’t I even choose my own ending? Let me live out my days fucked up,” she snapped.
Rebel exhaled loudly.
“You think I don’t know the feeling, Lyric? I always said I was going to be a stoner for life. You have been through a lot these last three months. You don’t need to go anywhere. Stay right here with people who really love you,” he said, stroking her forehead.
Lyric began to sob. She wanted to get high so badly. She couldn’t stop thinking about the things that Khalil forced her to do and the things that others did to her as well. She hated herself.
“Why, Rebel? Why do you keep telling me to get clean, huh?” she cried, rubbing her arms like they hurt. “So you can relieve yourself of your guilt? Is that it? Because clearly, you don’t fucking love me. First, you left me in the hospital crying for you to come back. And then, when I get out, I find that you were fucking my friend.” She sniffled back a nose full of snot.
“When I saw what was happening to you, I couldn’t stand it. If saving you meant never taking another drug, I would do it. I made mistakes, but I’ve always loved you. I want you to get clean for you . . . for us. Why wouldn’t I want to see you living the life you deserve, Lyric? Chasing a high for the rest of your life is not living. Getting caught up in situations like this last one is not living. Taking the help, being healthy, fighting those demons from the past—that’s living, Lyric,” Rebel said earnestly, his voice choking up.
“I’m so ashamed of myself. I walked right into his trap and all for a fucking hit,” Lyric said. “Look at me. I’ll never be anyt
hing more than a dope fiend,” she said, extending her arms so that Rebel could see all of her track marks. Her arms were gouged raw.
“You can’t be ashamed in front of me. I’ve been to the lowest points with you, remember? We used to crawl around on the floors of my crib together searching for dope. We used to shoot up together all day and night. You was the first woman that saw how dope totally wiped out my hard-ons, and you never judged me for that shit,” Rebel admitted.
He slid onto the bed next to Lyric, pulled her into his arms, and kissed the top of her head.
“I’ll be right here through it all, Lyric. I promise that I won’t leave you this time. I’ll make sure that you get clean so that you can live the life that you deserve,” he swore.
Lyric’s tears soaked through Rebel’s T-shirt. He hadn’t showed her this much love since they’d been together. They lay together for a few minutes in silence.
A soft knock on the bedroom door interrupted their moment.
“Come in,” Rebel called out. He pulled apart from Lyric and sat up on the side of the bed. The door slowly crept open.
“Hey,” Harmony sang, smiling. Lyric gave her a weak smile in return. Her headache was intensifying by the minute.
“I made breakfast. Are you guys hungry?” her sister offered.
The thought of food made Lyric’s stomach turn over. “I can’t eat. I’m starting to feel sick.”
“Oh, baby sis, I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”
Harmony approached Lyric’s bedside, feeling her forehead for a temperature.
“We’ll make sure you get what you need. What you about you, Rebel? Are you holding up okay?” she asked like a mother hen.
“I’m good for now. I need to make sure she’s going to be all right.”
Lyric looked at both of them and smiled, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Thank you,” Lyric said, her voice cracking. She really meant it. She was grateful to have both Rebel and her sister back in her life. It gave her a glimmer of hope for the future.
* * *
Lyric leaned over the side of the bed and vomited into the bucket on the floor for the sixth time in the last hour. She screamed out as another wave of pain shot through her lower back and abdomen. She was drenched in sweat, and her legs stiffened with charley horses and severe cramps. Rebel dabbed her head with a cold washcloth.
“Kicking cold turkey is a bitch, baby girl. I know. I feel you,” he said as he rubbed her back in soothing, circular motions. Lyric’s chest heaved; she felt like she was being stabbed by millions of sharp needles. She wanted to give up. This hurt too bad. She would die if she had to endure one more day like this.
“Reb . . . just get me one hit. I promise, it’ll be my last one. I swear, I won’t ask again—just one hit,” Lyric pleaded. “I swear . . . It will be the last one. I can’t do this, Reb. I’m weak. I’ll be dead by morning,” she sobbed into her blankets.
“Nah, Lyric. It’s been three days, and you’ve made it this far. You doing damned good, baby girl. Stay strong. I’m right here with you. In a few more days, you’ll be well enough to go to a place your sister hooked you up with,” Rebel assured her. “If I give you a hit, you’ll be starting over from day one, and then what would all of these days have been for? That shit can’t rock, Lyric. You got this. I know you can kick this.”
“Fuck! Fuck you and my sister! Let me out of here!” Lyric screamed, using the last bit of strength she had to pull herself upright. “You don’t fucking understand,” she said weakly, trying to kick her aching legs like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Nobody understands me.”
“You are stronger than you know. I got your back. You’re doing better than some grown-ass men I know. I always knew you were a fighter, Lyric,” Rebel praised. “I know you feel like shit right now, but trust me on this one. This shit is going to be so worth it later.”
Lyric wanted to spit in Rebel’s face, but she was too weak to even collect the saliva in her mouth. She leaned over and dry heaved this time. She was bone dry. An empty vessel ready for disposal. She hoped they cremated her when she died.
After another three days of cold turkey withdrawals, Lyric finally felt strong enough to sit up in the bed and eat a solid meal. The sunlight was streaming though the blinds of the guest room in Harmony’s house. It was a welcome sight.
Lyric swung her legs over the side of the bed and eased to the edge. She stood up for the first time in days. Her legs were still weak, so she grabbed onto the nightstand to catch her balance and accidentally sent a glass of orange juice crashing to the hardwood floor.
“Shit,” Lyric hissed, feeling like a clumsy invalid.
“Lyric?” Harmony rushed into the room. “Are you all right? I heard a noise.” Harmony ran to her side and offered her assistance back to the bed.
“I’m good. I just knocked over the glass by accident.”
Harmony let out a sigh of relief. “You don’t have to try to do too much too fast. There’s no rush.”
Lyric stared at her sister for a few minutes and lowered her eyes, unable to maintain eye contact with her.
“Harmony, I’m sorry I never told you about Ron and Melody,” Lyric said, contritely.
“That’s all water under the bridge now. Don’t you worry about that. You worry about yourself and getting better.” Her sister was far too generous and kindhearted. She didn’t know if she would have forgiven herself so quickly or easily. Harmony waved it off, but Lyric could see the hurt glinting in her eyes.
“No, it is not okay. I was supposed to tell you right away. You have always been here for me, whether I wanted to accept your help or not. I was wrong for not being loyal to you. I wish I could blame my addiction for everything, but that was entirely my fault.”
“We’ve moved on. We’re not going to speak about the past anymore, Lyric. Ava is dead, and so is that part of our lives. We have to heal now. I’ve said this before, but I mean it this time. We are going to get this right, this time,” Harmony said, pulling Lyric in for a hug.
“And part of getting this right is being there for each other . . . even Melody,” Harmony said. Lyric rolled her eyes.
“I just don’t know why you keep forgiving her. What else does she have to do to you?” Lyric said, moving out of Harmony’s embrace.
Harmony looked at her with sympathy in her eyes.
“It’s not her fault. It’s not any of our faults. But, at a time like this, we have one more chance to try to make things right,” she replied. “Baby sis, we are all we got now, and that includes Melody.”
Lyric could tell her sister was struggling to say those words. She knew Harmony was devastated by the news about Melody and Ron, but Lyric also knew that Harmony was the best at rising above adversity and hurt feelings. In fact, Lyric had watched Harmony master the skill all of their lives.
“I love you, Harmony,” Lyric whispered.
“I love you more, sis,” Harmony whispered back.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you on your feet,” Harmony chimed, taking a good look at Lyric’s healed black eye and cleared skin.
“Yeah, but I need a shower like now . . . as in right now. Shit, I’m killing myself with these funky pits,” she said chuckling.
Rebel walked back into the room from his own shower and shave.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he said smiling brightly. Lyric blushed. She hadn’t taken a good long look at Rebel in a while. He was still ruggedly handsome and very rough around the edges. She had forgotten how much his tattoos turned her on.
Harmony provided Lyric with some towels and soap to freshen up. Rebel stood guard outside of the door just in case she got sick or felt dizzy.
* * *
When she first stepped into the shower, the water stung her skin. After a few minutes, the warm water cascaded down her back, and Lyric was able to ease back into the shower’s powerful stream and finally relax. She couldn’t stop the tears and memories from washing over her...
* * *
“Wash me,” Andrew Harvey demanded as he moved his naked body close to hers. Although hot water rained down on them, Lyric’s teeth chattered and goose bumps covered her skin.
“C’mon. Don’t be shy. You should be getting used to this by now,” he said, putting his fingers under her chin to lift her face toward the stream. Lyric could never get used to being in these situations with him. It was unnatural. He was an old man; she was a young girl.
“Okay, I tell you what. I’ll help you,” he said, forcing a soft sponge in her hand, and then guiding it to his penis. Lyric tried to back away, but the shower walls enclosed them in the tight space together. With her back against the wall, Andrew Harvey had her pinned. He flashed her a lecherous grin.
“I think you like to play hard to get because you know it turns me on,” he said, reaching back and grabbing her hair. “You’ve been turning me on more and more lately with your protests.” She whined at the pain of having her hair pulled. He laughed at her whimper.
“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he said softly, kissing her face while his ever-growing manhood pressed against her stomach. She twisted her face away, dodging his kisses.
“Come here,” he instructed, turning her around.
“Please!” Lyric screamed as he probed her, getting her ready.
“Shhhh,” he moaned, holding her by the hips. Their wet bodies slipped against each other making a loud, slick noise. Lyric lowered her head and gasped for air.
Andrew Harvey panted like an animal against her neck as he took her with force. The shower water pelted them like a violent rainstorm. Lyric couldn’t breathe. She pushed her hands against the shower wall, her face pressed against the cold ceramic tiles.
“That’s right. Let me know you love it,” he whispered, holding onto her with a death grip. Lyric screamed as loud as she could, but she knew no one was coming to save her.
* * *
Lyric slid down to the floor of the shower, with her knees pulled into her chest, sobbing and shivering from the nightmarish memory. When she wasn’t high, the memories came almost every day. She didn’t know how she would make it without the escape of her drugs.
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