Our life growing up in Henderson was boring, but Summer loved it. The biggest thrill back then was hanging out at Wal-Mart, where I’d met my first boyfriend. I tried dating like girls my age, but the guys were too insecure.
In my special way, I loved those guys. Not because they enjoyed licking my pussy until I couldn’t cum anymore. No, that wasn’t it. I loved each of them hard because my desire to be admired overruled my senses for true love.
After my exes would cheat on me or talk real indignant to me, they’d buy me pretty things or treat me extra nice. Kinda how Daddy did. Ever since I was a little girl, my daddy spoiled us. Gave us everything we wanted and more. I recalled my mother tapping our legs once or twice to command our attention, but my father would spank us, then apologize by giving us gifts. So in a way, my daddy prepped me for this cruel world full of sadistically abusive men.
“Bitch, if I have to get up, you’ll be sorry. Summer, move your ass now!”
I couldn’t. Maybe if I told him I wasn’t Summer he’d let me go.
“Just beat me and get it over with! No matter what you say or do, I’m never gonna be yours, you dirty bastard!”
Valentino sat grinding his front teeth as though he was chewing coconut. He bit the tip off a fresh cigar, then lit it. Inhaling the fiery flames, he drew in smoke, then gently blew white cloudy rings into the air.
I wanted out. I’d made enough money, owned a big condo, a nice Benz, some designer clothes, and I had a decent six-figure bank account to hold me until I found a real job. Maybe when I turned twenty-one tomorrow I’d accept a job managing a clothing store inside one of the well-known casinos.
Valentino calmly whispered, “Summer. Baby girl. Come to Papa.”
“I’m not your baby girl!” I shouted, hurling the Rolex watch from my wrist like I was trying to strike him out on the first throw. I was sick of his bullshit. The white gold and diamonds cut through Valentino’s hand, then sliced the mole on his face. “I’m sorry, Valentino. I never should’ve come over here. I quit.”
Like before, whenever I was in bad situations there was no one to rescue me from my big mouth. My mother never rescued me from my father and my father couldn’t rescue me from Valentino. I watched blood stream down Valentino’s face and neck. Calmly he sat there staring at his hand, then shut his eyes.
This was my big chance.
For the first time tonight, I regretted not getting in the limo with Starlet and Onyx. I was sure there was a better way to quit. This was one day I should’ve stayed in my bed.
Quietly I knelt beside my bag, reached into the side pocket, and removed the .22 caliber. I’d never owned a gun. Never pulled a trigger. Every nerve in my body tensed as I shut my eyes tighter, pointing the gun at Valentino. I closed my eyes and quickly prayed, “God forgive me,” but heard my mother’s voice saying, “Thou shall not kill.” Terrified beyond belief, I felt my arms, legs, stomach, and neck shuddering
Pow!
Valentino’s fist crashed into the top of my head.
This was a time when having a Christian upbringing sucked. My life was in jeopardy and I was too scared to keep my eyes on Valentino and too afraid to pull the trigger. A wave of pain shot from my cranium to my feet. Everything became blurry. This is it, I thought as my body collapsed to the cold floor. I lay facedown, eye-to-eye with a gray shark beneath the glass.
“You think you bad, bitch?” Valentino asked, turning me over. “Done cut up my face and hand and shit. You can forget about leaving me, going to the police on me, or killing me! That’s what’s not going to happen! After all I’ve done for you, you ungrateful little bitch! Let’s see how Mr. Daniel likes this shit.”
My eyes fluttered, then closed as I watched Valentino’s fist descending upon the one thing I admired so much…my face.
I screamed, “Ahhhhhhhhh!”
Like a fountain, blood squirted from my nose and mouth. My front teeth lodged in my throat.
It felt like a cement block fell on my face. If only I had the smarts to realize there was nothing wrong with working at In-and-Out Burger for minimum wage until I could do better. Living at home, like my sister, was far better than illegal prostitution. If only I had the strength to say no to Valentino’s slick-talking ways. If only I could’ve stayed single long enough to get to know myself. Why did I feel I always had to have a man? Always had to have someone adoring me? With the exception of my busboy ex-boyfriend who I now realized was good to me, how did I always choose the wrong man?
Valentino removed my satin dress. My naked body caressed the floor. He covered the gun, placed the cold steel back in my palm, wrapped my pointing finger around the trigger, then pressed the barrel against my temple.
My head rattled. “No, please, don’t.” Blood slung from the corners of my mouth. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”
It’s true what they say about your whole life flashing before you when you think you’re dying. I saw lights brighter than the ones surrounding my vanity. Who was I? Who was Sunny Day?
“Bitch, I loved your ass. You could’ve had it all, including my baby. You fucked up.” Valentino’s voice faded into the airspace above me as his fingers rested atop mine. When his lips pressed against my forehead, his blood and tears rolled into my eyes. Valentino whispered, “Happy birthday, Summer. I love you.”
Protecting my sister, I couldn’t tell him the truth. Staring into Valentino’s eyes, I found strength to ask what I already knew, “Anthony James?”
“Yes, baby. You know it’s me,” he whispered, then kissed my nose like Summer had told me he’d kissed hers before saying, “Good-bye, my love.”
“Nooooo!” I screamed, spitting blood and teeth into Valentino’s face. “You dirty bastard!” A train horn blowing like it was about to wreck into the mansion made me so nervous…I pulled the trigger.
Pow!
As I was fading to black, my life flashed before me…my purpose became clear. I was dying young so some little innocent naive know-it-all girl who was thinking about running away from home wouldn’t. Not after she heard my story on the morning news. She’d listen to her parents because, contrary to her belief, she’d realize her parents were smarter.
I prayed my last prayer.
“Whoever you are, sweetheart, stay at home, go back home. If you insist on leaving, go someplace safe. Don’t sell your body. No amount of money is worth it. Whatever you decide to do with your life, don’t be like me. When they perform my autopsy, I’m sure they’ll find a heart but no guts. Stand up for yourself. Don’t let a man abuse you. Before I make my transition, promise me you won’t become the next girl number twelve.
“P.S. Summer, Mommy, and Daddy, no matter what you hear, I was a good girl.”
CHAPTER 9
Summer
The two shall become one.
Twins. Identical. The power of a combined yin-yang force describable as living an outer body experience from the moment of conception. A splitting image of indivisible spirits. Two hearts eternally beating as one…until one stops. Then the one heart must beat for two.
I didn’t want to think, feel, or believe the worst, but I knew something terrible was happening to Sunny. Silently tears poured, drenching my lime cardigan sweater and black silk blouse. Smearing the saltiness into my cheeks, my mouth, and back into my eyes, I cried aloud.
“Daddy, let’s go home. We don’t have any idea where Sunny is and I don’t feel so good.”
Truth was I was afraid of what we’d see if we found Sunny. Ignoring me, my father aimlessly drove five miles an hour traveling west on Lake Mead Road. Glaring out my passenger window as we passed Wal-Mart, I didn’t want to relive the fun times I had with my sister shopping when we were teenagers, fearing we may never shop together again.
After we graduated from high school, Sunny only went to Wal-Mart to appease me. She preferred to shop at Saks or Bloomingdales.
Honk! Honk!
Creeping in the slow lane, Daddy quietly sat behind the mahogany steering wheel peering
through the windshield as he merged onto Interstate 15 heading north.
Unexpectedly moisture seeped between my thighs. As I clamped my buttocks, what felt like blood trickled into my panties and wouldn’t stop. This was not a good sign.
“Daddy, please go back. Let’s just go home,” I pleaded, thankful I’d worn black slacks.
Lord, what’s happening to my sister? I wondered.
I bit into a piece of sugarcoated ginger. “Ouch!” A sharp pain hit me. Staring at the dried fruit, I pinched my two front teeth to make sure they were there. Heavily my hand fell from my mouth to my lap like a piece of lead.
“Baby girl, with all your distractions you shoulda stayed home with your mama.”
Daddy was oblivious of my uncharacteristic behavior. Mama would’ve read Sunny’s signs through me and asked tons of questions by now. My daddy didn’t know where to go, but I could tell he was determined to find Sunny and obviously we weren’t going home until he did.
Each night at dinner, Daddy prayed at the table for Sunny’s safe return. And precisely at ten o’clock before going to bed, I lit Sunny’s favorite white eucalyptus fragrance candle and set it in the window, asking God to guide my sister home. It was after ten o’clock and the first night I wasn’t able to leave a candle burning for Sunny.
Wringing my hands with the teardrops falling in my palms, I felt a burning sensation in my stomach. Trying not to think the worst, I recalled the stories Sunny told me about the celebrities she’d met and how they pampered her and gave her lots of money. Each time she sounded excited but her spirit was very sad. I sensed the haziness hovering over her heart. Her feelings spoke louder than her contrived laughter. That Valentino guy Sunny beamed about but had never met was the one I wanted her to marry.
My eyes were open but I couldn’t see anything in front of me. Daddy drove so slow I imagined his foot being propped inches above the pedal.
One cold night about two months or so ago, Sunny told me, “Sis, I closed on my first condo. It’s like a glorified apartment but I have lots of space. A huge living room with plush snow-white carpet. I just bought this crazy nice leather set. It’s your favorite color, lime. My bedroom is my favorite color, green.” She’d laughed but every time I asked she wouldn’t tell me where her place was.
Buying her first home was one time when Sunny truly seemed happy. Oh, how she boasted about me having my own bedroom and how our rooms were decorated the same. Our family photo hung in the living room above her electrical fireplace. She had ceiling track lights with dimmers.
She continued. “We both have giant tubs and there’s a new gas stove and a double-door refrigerator.”
Sunny was a better cook than me but she’d never admit it. I never understood why she wanted more for me than herself. When I wanted to run away and go live with my ex-first boyfriend, Anthony, Sunny convinced me not to. But I couldn’t do the same with her when she left home. “You gotta see it! I’ma pick you up in my new Benz. We gon’ let down the top and let our long blond hair blow in the…I take that back, we’ll just cruise with the top up, put on our sunglasses, and act like celebrities.”
I’m still waiting on that ride.
Sunny was more adventurous than me. She always wanted to travel the world. Embrace different cultures and learn foreign languages. International business was her desired field, while anthropology was my major.
Sunny could brush on mascara and smooth on foundation like her face was a canvas and she really was an artist. Her body was flawless. Mine too but Sunny’s clothes were impeccable. All the whites, reds, greens, blacks, etc., still hung together in her bedroom closet at home. Her drawers were stuffed with a rainbow of panties that had to match her bras.
Personalitywise we differed in some ways. I was like Mother and loved going to church and praising the Lord. Sunny was like Daddy. She was spiritual in her own way but she didn’t need a congregation to prove it. Her goodness shone from within.
Looking at the green and white freeway sign, I saw that the Tropicana Avenue exit was three miles away. The wind whistled at our windows, nudging the car sideways. Daddy’s tires crunched along the cement as he remained silent. My tears dried to a crust, tightening my cheeks.
Mama said Sunny had mentioned something about a bar and witches, so the first place Daddy thought of was the Las Vegas Strip. “Oh my God!” I clamped both hands over my ears. “Daddy, stop the car!”
“Summer, what’s wrong with you? I knew I shoulda left you at home. You’re makin’ me more nervous.”
“My brain is on fire! Help me, Daddy! It hurts!” Leaning forward, I placed my hands over my temples.
My dad’s eyes widened, then tightened, but didn’t close as his mouth gaped open with enough space to shove in a double cheeseburger as he plunged the accelerator. Exiting the freeway, Daddy drove into the nearest parking lot at In-and-Out Burger. Daddy’s chest flattened against my back. His arms covered my arms as he rocked me.
“It’s okay, baby girl. I’ma find her. I promise you. Let’s get you home.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” I said, feeling a little relieved.
Ever since Sunny and I were little—before we could speak a word—my parents told us we were one. When I was sick, Sunny was sick. When I was scared, Sunny got scared too. Didn’t matter if we were in the same room or miles apart; we each knew how the other felt. The occurrences became more frequent after Sunny left home.
The green-illuminated numbers on the dash changed from 10:59 to 11:00. A bright light flashed before me. I closed my eyes and whispered, “It’s too late, Daddy. I feel it’s too late.”
CHAPTER 10
Valentino
There was only one person I trusted more than Lace and that was her man, my boy, former MVP Benito Bannister. The real reason I hooked Lace up with Benito was that I couldn’t risk having Lace get with some nosy-ass nigga who’d interfere with my sole proprietorship thinking he was smarter than the both of us because I’d have to kill his ass like this bitch right here in my office.
Summer, incognegro Sunny, had changed her name to get in the game and shit, but Sunny wasn’t the bona fide bitch I had to worry about. Lace was gonna lose her motherfuckin’ mind when she found out Sunny was dead.
Where in the fuck was Lace? I should fire her ass. If her ass was on time, Sunny would be making me money instead of…what the fuck ever. A G like me lives by the creed, no regrets. Hiring Lace to front my empire was the most intelligent decision I’d made. Quickly Lace became the mastermind behind my entire operation, installing surveillance cameras, monitors, and all that high-tech shit. She wiped out my computer records so the fuckin’ law couldn’t trace me. Incorporated Immaculate Perception, aka IP, so that tax nigga, Uncle Sam, wouldn’t sweat me. Set up my cell phone so my outgoing and incoming calls didn’t show up nowhere. Had a digitally activated fence built around my mansion near Ann Road and Rainbow Boulevard across from Walgreen so not even a golf ball from the Silver Stone or Painted Desert course could touch my property without my knowledge. And she had a wall installed around my IP joint down the way on Martin Luther King that was so high no one except Lace and my security guards got in or out unless I pressed a button. That bitch was so brilliant. The only things Lace couldn’t fuck with were my dick and my money.
I didn’t know how she kept so much shit in her head, but I was straight happy as a mug she was on my team. That bitch didn’t have a degree, but her ass was a motherfuckin’ genius! But I couldn’t let her know dat shit. Bitches say some ig’nant shit when they think they know more than men. But as long as bitches bled from their pussies they’d always be subservient to a real G like me.
I ain’t no gangsta with hard balls totin’ a grip everywhere I go. I’m a hunter and gatherer of bitches and hos. Straight up. That’s how I get down. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll bust a cap in a motherfucker’s ass in a heartbeat if my life or livelihood is in jeopardy. Like this dead bitch bleeding all over my crystal floor. Right now a nigga needed some help. Straight
up. And I knew just the man for the job.
Benito and I went way back to elementary school and shit. Football never was my strong suit. I was too busy running the ladies. That’s what I called them in high school ’cause Moms and Dad, may they rest in peace, didn’t tolerate no cussing in our home.
My parents were old as dirt when they decided to have me. So old that when they attended PTA meetings all my classmates laughed because they thought my grandparents were raising me. There were a couple of generation gaps between us. A solid fifty years. Don’t sag. Comb your hair. Go iron those pants. Wash behind your ears. Brush your teeth before you go to bed. Moms would give me a stern look and I’d correct myself, then say to my father, “Yes, sir, or no, sir.”
On top of all that shit, I had to go to church four days a week. The reason I joined the football team was so I didn’t have to lip-synch at rehearsal. My dad was happy as hell ’cause my games got him out of Bible study on Tuesdays and Thursdays. They had some bitches in the choir who could’ve been on my team, but those holier-than-thou hos were too busy plotting long-term commitments like wanting to marry a G and shit.
I wish my mother woulda dodged that ig’nant-ass drunk driver the way I did those church girls. But Moms never saw him coming. Since the start of my freshman year, all she ever bragged about was my graduation ceremony. Six months prior to my walking across the stage at Valley High in my cap and gown, my mother was killed. That intoxicated motherfucka better be glad he wasn’t on the scene when I arrived or I woulda straight stumped his face in the ground. I know that wouldn’t have brought Moms back, but I sure as hell would’ve felt relief from my grief.
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