by Jade Jones
Jag would be gone 24 hours. More than enough time to have some fun with Cameron.
“I won’t kill the bitch… But I’ll damn sure make her wish she was dead.”
Cameron was staring up at the wood ceiling when Alessia opened the door and walked in. Evidently, she wasn’t the only one who knew how to pick a lock.
Cameron knew there was tension between them, but she still begged for help. “Please get me out of here! You have to help me! Call the police!”
Alessia looked surprised and amused. She smothered a laugh at Cam’s silly statement. “Why in the hell would I wanna do anything for you?” she asked. “I wouldn’t spit on your black ass if you were on fire. I’m certainly not gonna help you. I would rather die.”
Cameron found her comment rather harsh. “Look, Alessia, I don’t know what Jag told you, but…He needs help. Professional help.” A tear rolled down her cheek after reliving everything Jag put her through. The abuse, the forced sex, and the seclusion—it was all too much.
Alessia slowly strolled over to the bed. She had a growing hatred for Jag’s girlfriend. “Are you calling my brother crazy?”
Cameron shook her head vehemently. It was obvious there was no getting through to the teenager. “Alessia, please—”
“The only thing crazy he’s ever done was love you.” Her mouth tightened. “Honestly, I don’t even know what he sees in you. You’re not even that pretty if you ask me.”
“Alessia, why are you doing this? I’ve never done anything to you,” Cam cried.
“You’ve never done anything to me?” she laughed. “Did you just say you’ve never done anything to me? Is that really what you believe?” Alessia was clearly offended by her declaration. Alessia noticed the paper clip lying on the night table. She picked it up and slowly approached Cam. Her eyes were filled with lunacy. “Don’t pull that guiltless shit with me, bitch. Jag might think you’re innocent and worthy, but you aren’t shit. You’ll never be shit…and neither will your children.”
“Get the fuck away from me, lil’ bitch! I don’t wanna hurt you but I will!” Cameron warned her.
Alessia laughed at the meaningless threat. The fact that Cameron was handcuffed to the bed and still thought she was dangerous was flat out comical. She couldn’t do a damn thing but sit and sulk.
“You already killed my mother and brother. There’s nothing more you can do to hurt me,” she said, animosity brewing in her tone.
“Wh—what? I didn’t even know your mother was dead! Jag told me that—”
“Shut up!”
Whap!
Alessia slapped the shit out Cameron so hard that her ear rang afterwards. The younger girl was more heavy-handed than she thought.
“Alessia, stop, you don’t have to d—”
Whap!
She smacked Cam again in the face, this time leaving behind a red handprint. Then she hit her again, and again, and again. Drunk on power, the 17-year old slapped and clawed at Cam’s face like she was possessed.
One of Alessia’s fingernails scratched the surface of her eye, and Cam screamed out in pain. The young bitch had lost her mothafucking mind wailing on her.
After seeing the damage she caused, Alessia smiled devilishly. Revenge was sweet, even if she had to deal with her brother’s backlash later on. Alessia grew up in a family of contract killers, so she doubtlessly had a few screws loose.
There was a deranged look on her face as she held the sharp end of the paperclip over Cameron’s left eye socket.
“Don’t you fucking dare! Get that mothafucking thing out my face!” Cameron tried to turn away, but Alessia grabbed her cheeks, and forced her head still.
The teenage girl really got a sick thrill out of torturing the bound woman. Jag told her that Cam was strictly off limits, but she just couldn’t control herself. Someone needed to pay for her relatives’ murders. Why not Cameron?
All of a sudden, Journee started crying in the other room. She was in an irritable state and needed attention. She also might’ve saved Cam’s life too, because Alessia stopped just seconds before puncturing her eye.
“Sounds like the mongrel baby needs me.” She grinned mischievously. “Duty calls.”
Her racist comment made Cameron believe she might hurt her children. “Don’t you touch my fucking kids, you young bitch! I swear to God I’ll kill yo’ mothafucking ass if you touch ‘em!”
Alessia ignored Cam and skipped delightedly out the room before closing the door behind her. That little heathen was worst than The Children of the Corn. She was the devil reincarnated.
Cameron listened to Alessia soothe the infant, surprisingly getting her to calm down. She breathed a shaky sigh of relief, thankful that she didn’t hurt her. With the way Alessia was talking, Cam didn’t know what to expect. After all, her beef was with her. Not the children. Maybe she isn’t as crazy as I thought.
Cameron devoutly hoped it was true.
All of a sudden, she heard a loud thump followed by Justin crying.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Alessia screamed.
Evidently, she was wrong in her assumption.
“What are you in there doing to him?!” Cameron yelled from inside the room. “What the fuck are you doing to my son?!”
In horror, she listened to what sounded like slapping and tussling. Justin’s high-pitched cries grew louder and louder. Alessia brutally assaulted the toddler, since she knew that would hurt Cam more than anything.
“GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU BITCH!” Cameron screamed from the bedroom. Her heart started beating so fast she could feel it in her throat. “Leave him the fuck alone!” Her voice was hoarse with rage as she fought to free herself from the cuffs. Unfortunately, no safety pin was nearby this time. It pained her that she couldn’t even see what Alessia was doing to him. There wasn’t shit Cam could do but listen to her son cry and call out for her. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!”
10
Jag pulled into the driveway of his secluded cabin home and smiled. He was $20,000 richer, his sister was back, and his family was finally unified. Life looked promising.
After turning off the engine, he walked in the house, and found his sister sleeping on the sofa. It was eight in the morning, so he considered cooking breakfast. Leaning down, Jag planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
He then went in the bedroom, where he was greeted with the sight of bloodstained sheets. Cam’s wrists were cut and bruised from hours of trying to break free.
“Cameron?” Jag took slow, cautious steps towards her. His stomach clenched into a little knot. Her head was dipped low, and he couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. “Damn. What the hell did you do to yourself?” He knelt down beside her and placed his ear next to her lips to see if she was breathing. He didn’t hear anything. His first thought was that she’d committed suicide. “Shit.” Jag put his burner on the night table, pulled out his keys and un-cuffed her. Cam’s body dropped limply onto the bed. He was almost certain she was dead. He felt a wave of relief after detecting a heartbeat. “Cameron? Cam, get up, baby.”
Suddenly, her eyes shot open, and she kicked the shit out of Jag, sending him flying out the bed. Cam saw the gun lying on the nightstand and quickly grabbed it.
Scrambling to her feet, she pointed the pistol down at Jag without remorse. He sat up on his knees in prayer fashion and stared at Cam with pitiful eyes. His ass really fell for the okie-doke.
“So that’s it?” he asked. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You just gon’ shoot me? Like that? After everything we’ve been through? I killed for you,” he reminded her.
“You killed for you,” she corrected him.
There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. She could hear just the faintest hint of laughter in his tone. He didn’t think she really had what it took to pull the trigger.
Cameron gave him second thoughts after cocking the gun. Her finger rested on the trigger. Tears rose to her eyes and spilled over her lower lids. She hated his ass with every fiber
of her being. She didn’t know how she could’ve ever loved him.
Jag soft blue eyes darted back and forth between Cameron and the gun. He had a relaxed disposition despite staring down the barrel. “Give me that before you hurt yourself, girl. It’s not like you really gon’ shoot m—”
POP!
Cam shot his ass in the head at point blank range. Regret didn’t exist as she watched his body land with a thud.
After hearing the gunshot, Alessia frantically ran in the room to see what happened. She took one look at her brother sprawled out on the floor and lost it.
“OH MY GOD! What did you do?! What did you fucking do! You fucking bitch!” she charged at Cam full speed and was clocked by the gun.
Alessia dropped right next to Jag’s body, and Cam quickly climbed on top of her. Gripped by rage, she pistol-whipped the teen with every ounce of anger she had in her soul.
WHAP!
WHAP!
WHAP!
WHAP!
By the time Cameron finally exhausted herself, Alessia was barely recognizable. Her face was a swollen, bloody, distorted mess. But she didn’t get anything she didn’t already have coming.
Cameron climbed off Alessia’s semi-conscious body, grabbed Jag’s car keys, and went to get her kids. This time she moved much more quickly and efficiently. When she saw the welts and bruises on Justin’s body, she felt like killing Alessia. The gun trembled in her hand. She had every reason to go back in the bedroom and empty the clip. Instead of doing just that, Cam hastily whisked her children to the car.
After safely securing them, she jumped in, and started the engine. She was just about to pull off until she remembered she was in the middle of nowhere. She would need a phone for navigational directions and possibly to call the police.
Cameron grabbed the gun out of the passenger seat, climbed out the car, and went back inside the cabin. Her heart pounded as she got closer and closer to the bedroom. She half-expected one of them to be gone, like in the scary movies but was thankful they were right where she left them.
Alessia groaned in pain. Surely she’d never had a worse beating in all her life. At least now she’d think twice before putting her hands on somebody else’s child.
Cameron stepped over her body and knelt down beside Jag. Regardless of everything he put her through, she did feel somewhat bad for killing him. There was once a time when they were best friends before becoming lovers. Things quickly took a turn for the worse. He got abusive, psychotic, and ended up on the receiving end of a bullet.
Cam tried not to look at the pool of blood spilling from his head as she reached for his jeans. She slowly dug the iPhone out his pocket and stood to her feet.
All of a sudden, Alessia grabbed her leg.
Cameron jumped in surprise.
“…I’m gonna bury your ass, bitch—”
WHAM!
Cameron kicked her hard in the face, immediately knocking her out. She and Jag deserved to rot in hell together. Now that Cam had what she needed, she ran out of the cabin and jumped in the car. She couldn’t get away from that dreadful place fast enough.
11
It was 4 p.m. on a Wednesday, and Jude was drowning his sorrows like the alcoholic he’d become. A small hole in the wall bar down in Old Fourth Ward District was his sanctuary from society. Normally, Jude kept a few shooters with him, but lately he’d been careless about his safety and well-being. He migrated alone like he didn’t have a slew of enemies waiting to catch him slipping. It was almost as if he had a death wish.
Jude tossed the shot of scotch back and slammed the empty glass on the counter. He wheezed dramatically after the liquor burned his throat just a little.
“You want another?” the bartender asked. He was a tall, dark-skinned cat with a box fade and part line. He was also a member in Jude’s intricate car theft ring. On his off days, he stole cars to later on be shipped overseas and sold at a higher value.
Jude was making a killing off his business until Jag came and fucked everything up. He was a pain in his ass, like a damn hemorrhoid that needed to be dealt with.
Jude placed a C-note on the counter and stood to his feet. “Nah, I’m finna gon’ head and slide. I’mma get up wit’chu though.”
“Aight then, man. And thanks for the baby shower presents. My girl ain’t stopped fawning over ‘em since she opened ‘em.”
“Aw, c’mon now. You fam. You already know how I do,” Jude told him. He treated his niggas like they were blood. They were all closer to him than his own relatives—especially after losing his mom and older brother, Jerrell.
Jude dapped his homie and left the bar, pretending he was sober enough to get behind the wheel.
“You know your fine ass shouldn’t be driving,” a random female boldly spoke up. “You ought to let us chaperone you.” She was standing outside with her girl smoking a cigarette. They’d both peeped the illustrious young boss the moment he walked out.
Jude was dapper that evening in a black Moschino button down, fitted designer jeans, and Prada sneakers. Two gold Cuban link chains dangled around his tattooed neck. The latest addition was his wife’s name.
Jude’s clothes and swag echoed his general demeanor. The fact that he didn’t have a bitch on his arm gave them the impression he was a free agent.
If Jude felt that way, he would’ve fucked Essence last night when he had the chance…but he didn’t. Instead, he walked in the bar, took one look at her and left before she noticed him. While she did look inviting in a crop top, black booty shorts, and mesh stocking, she wouldn’t have filled the emptiness in his heart. The only useful thing she could do was help him get a quick nut off. Afterwards, he would feel terrible and regretful. Not only that but Essence wasn’t Cameron.
No one could take her place, and no one could fill the void he was missing without her. Anytime he looked at a woman, all he could see was Cam's face. He couldn’t go on living like this.
Jude surprised himself by nearly chuckling. “I’ll manage,” he said.
The girls pouted in disappointment, mad they couldn’t make a quick come up off him. Jude wasn’t that nigga. He was older now, smarter, and wiser. He didn’t have time for the bullshit.
It took him less than 20 minutes to get home. When he pulled his ‘Rari into the circular stone driveway, he noticed an unfamiliar car parked in front of the fountain.
Jude never got around to fixing the lousy security system, and he wasn’t surprised that someone just let him or herself in. Jude immediately grabbed his thumper and climbed out the Italian sports car. He had a bullet for any mothafucka feeling foolhardy.
“Who the fuck is this?”
As soon as Cameron saw Jude she stepped out of the car. Ironically, she had just pulled in less than two minutes earlier.
Jude thought he was drunk and imagining shit after he saw his wife standing several feet away. There was dry, smeared blood on her face from when Jag slapped her around. Her hair was a mess. But as certain as death and taxes were, there she was plain as day.
Jude looked no better. His dreads were past due to be re-twisted and he could’ve used a lineup. He needed someone to take care of him and vice versa.
Jude and Cam ran up to each other at the same time and hugged tightly. He had to touch, and hold, and kiss her just to make sure she was real. They say sometimes people needed to fall apart to realize how much they needed to fall back together. Perhaps that was true in their instant.
“I been missing you like crazy. You have no fuckin’ idea, yo.”
“I missed you too.” She cried tears of joy.
“God brought you back to me. I ain’t ever lettin’ yo’ ass go again, Cam,” he said, reassuringly. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
Jude was so wrapped up in his family that he didn’t notice his phone vibrating in his pocket. It was Magyc calling to let him know that Roxie had finally woken up from her coma.
12
Three Months Later
Cameron and Roxie were seated at a table in Starbucks inside Lenox Square Mall. They were childless that afternoon since their men had given them a break for once. A few shopping bags sat near their feet as they filled each other in on the latest tea in their lives.
Despite the conspicuous scarring left from Jag’s attack, Roxie looked healthy and like her old self. The weight that she’d lost in the hospital was put back on in just a few short weeks. In an effort to start a new beginning, she hacked off all of her pretty hair. Now she wore it in a short finger wave style. Someone else may’ve not been able to pull it off but Roxie slayed. It was especially cute since she had a fine grade of baby hairs.
She was sexy and sleek that day in a white jumpsuit and leather jacket. Her makeup was minimal, aside from the dark red MAC covering her lips. Although she was fully healed and looked good, Roxie felt the exact opposite inside. Lately, she and Magyc weren’t on the same page, and it had a lot to do with his cheating ways.
“Something’s changed,” she said. “I just don’t know what happened to all promises he made when I was in the hospital. He swore that he wouldn’t fuck up again. He claimed he was gonna change, and that he was gonna marry me. I may have been in a coma but I heard every single thing he ever said to me. And I believed every word like a damn fool.”
Cameron saw the stress and mental pressure their relationship was putting on Roxie.
“His ass hasn’t kept a single promise,” she complained. “I don’t know who’s worst. Him for putting on or me for staying.”
“Don’t blame yourself. Besides, you know how niggas are. They always wanna change when it’s convenient for them.” Cameron made air quotes at the word ‘change.’ “And it sad too because I really thought he’d do right by you. He definitely made it seem that way when you were down and out.”
“Girl, that hoe ass nigga ain’t done right by nobody but himself. He deserves a fucking Oscar. Talk and action are two different things, and he’s failing miserably with one. I should’ve stopped dealing with him when I found out he was still seeing Briana,” she said. Flashbacks of his ex showing up at her apartment came to mind. She shuddered inside when she pictured Jag blowing her head off. Roxie quickly shook the painful memories away. She attended counseling sessions regularly just to help her cope with the traumatic incident. “All that good shit Magyc was popping off was just game. I’m finally starting to see it now.”
