Mrs. Jackson had always been a social drinker; however, after her only child left, she barely left her bedroom, and on the occasions that she did, the distraught mother wouldn’t be seen without a wine glass in her hand and a strange, distant gaze in her eyes.
A few months prior to Keisha meeting Rico, Mrs. Jackson flew to a secret location to get pampered and supposedly a tummy tuck. Yet, when she returned, her husband, never one to mince words, constantly belittled her, saying the doctor that performed her surgery should have his medical license taken away because she was still fat. Hearing no encouragement, after multitudes of insults, Mrs. Jackson increased the amount of painkillers she was prescribed and started trading other pills with her inner circle of equally prescription-addicted well-to-do housewives.
Knowing nothing else since birth but that household, Sandy clung to Keisha’s mom after her own mother’s death. Basically living alone in the guest house, Sandy also had a room in the main house. Depending on the mood inside the home, she would float back and forth. Sandy and Mrs. Jackson always seemed close in the past, but since the pills, the drinking, and the missing part of her heart, Mrs. Jackson blamed everyone, including Sandy.
Extremely devoted to the entire family, as the days passed, Sandy started to feel resentment build up as well. Just a little over thirty years in age, she’d given up more than just her days and nights cooking for the family. Truth be told, she’d made the ultimate sacrifice, and as far as she was concerned, both Commissioner Jackson and his wife owed her at least common courtesy and respect, if nothing else.
“Good morning.” Sandy entered Mrs. Jackson’s gloomy bedroom with a breakfast tray in hand. “You didn’t eat much last night in the way of dinner, so I brought you some toast and a cup of coffee. You need something.”
“Go away, Sandy. Please. Just let me be.” Mrs. Jackson’s hands trembled as she twisted the cap off the orange plastic bottle. With dark circles surrounding her eyes and thinning hair sticking up, she took a shalow breath, trying to clear her raspy throat. She swallowed several pills without so much as a sip of water. Sandy tried her best to intervene but was stopped with a barrage of hateful comments.
“Look at you. Running around here trying to act like you care about me. You don’t care about me. None of you do. I see all of you whispering about me in my own damn house. I’m not crazy,” Mrs. Jackson, with her blood boiling, slurred with contempt and treachery in her heart for the entire world. “Nobody knows how I feel. Nobody. Not my husband, and certainly not you. I need Keisha back home at my side.”
Sandy stood there at first, silent. Holding the tray in her hands, she finally spoke out. “No disrespect, Mrs. Jackson, but how can you sit there and say that? I miss Keisha just as much as you. Sometimes even more.”
“I knew it was only a matter of time,” Mrs. Jackson hissed, leaping out the bed. Under the influence of liquor and countless days’ worth of pills, in bare feet and a dirty gown, she could hardly stand. Truth be told, she needed to be under a doctor’s constant care, but lately she refused any treatment of any sort.
Unstable and weak in the knees, she staggered toward the much-younger, always-loyal employee. She slapped Sandy across the face.
“After all I’ve done for you. How dare you throw that up in my face? How fucking dare you!”
Holding the side of her stinging jaw, Sandy didn’t say a word about the unprovoked attack, both physically and verbally. Setting the tray she was still holding on the nightstand, she just walked out the room, down the stairs, and out toward the guesthouse.
“Hey, Sandy. Good morning.” Calvin was mannish. He grinned, standing next to the car’s passenger door. Thinking about the few times he’d hit her off, his manhood jumped. “Damn, girl, how was your evening?”
“Whatever. Leave me alone.” Sandy huffed in tears, arrogantly storming past as he watched her ass jiggle from side to side.
I don’t know how much more of living this lie I can take! she thought.
“I guess it’s true. The more bitches, the more the problems,” he speculated at her apparent temperament, knowing sooner or later he’d luck up and get the pussy again.
Moments later, Commissioner Jackson, who ran his household like a modern-day dictator, emerged from inside the dwelling. Briefcase in hand, he got into the rear seat of the vehicle. With Calvin driving, he returned numerous missed calls. One from Swazy, with a very interesting update about the night before, and about five or six being from a jealous- hearted Robin, wondering if he was coming into the office.
Dealing with his wife’s over-the-top dramatics the night before had the always overly flirtatious husband at the end of his rope in their long-standing marriage.
If it wouldn’t hurt me politically, I’d leave that woman!
Chapter Fifteen
With a newfound self-serving attitude, Keisha came through the front door feeling absolutely no regrets whatsoever about what had taken place at work between her boss and his wife or the stranger on the bus. Matter of fact, both sexually charged scenarios played out repeatedly in her mind, causing her pussy to get moist. Once again, wanting nothing more than to get her freak game on ten, at this point, Keisha didn’t care who or what could get her where she needed to be.
Finding Rico sitting on the couch, playing his video game like nothing happened between them, was of no major surprise. He was arrogant like that. Keisha was over that awful character flaw and came to accept it as normal.
Hitting the pause button, he turned around, ready to hear whatever bullshit she was about to spit. Suffering from the same type of sudden, brain-splitting migraines his girl was constantly having, he wasn’t trying to hear her nagging.
To his astonishment, Rico sat back, stunned, mouth wide open. Without encouragement, Keisha hiked her skirt up over her ass, dropped down, and started blessing his mic. At first, he felt like she might have been planning on biting his shit clean off, but he was so overcome by her dedication to making him bust, he relaxed, grabbing the rear of her head, causing the wig she was wearing to slide backward and eventually fall to the floor.
Strangely, when she was done, Keisha announced that as far as she was concerned, they could go back to their old ways. In her own words, she conceded they were much more content as a couple when they were involved with some sort of freakery.
Knowing he wanted a little peace before he planned his next move or found another dumb-ass female to step in and take Keisha’s place, Rico eagerly agreed. As a show of good faith in what she was proposing, Rico let her take his cell phone and personally erase the scandalous pictures he had taken and saved. Digging in his pocket, he even gave back what was left of the rent money he’d stolen out her purse.
Back in her slut mode, Keisha urged him to call a female over to the house so they could all have a party. Call anybody but that smart-talking baby mama of yours.” Keisha played with herself as Rico watched, living in the celebration that she was apparently falling back in line.
“Don’t worry, Keisha. Ocean’s ass is on some other shit. Right about now, she thinks she’s bigger than the game.”
* * *
As Rico continued to choke Keisha out, he shoved his dick in between her legs. With each thrust, her extremely weak body slammed against the wall. She thought about the past couple of days. She knew it was only a matter of time before the good times they recently had would finally end. Rico’s attitude and disposition were growing colder and more distant. It was like she could do no right at home. It didn’t matter what she said or did; he was on edge, practically biting her head off. Rico claimed he was just feeling sick most of the time, but in Keisha’s eyes and heart, the reason for his brutal backsliding didn’t matter. The old Rico Campbell was back in full effect.
On a good note, however, no sooner had she and Rico started back being overly promiscuous than her job performance seemed to increase and her boss grew more and more impressed. This earned her a slight promotion and wage increase. It was like the more sexual partne
rs she engaged with, the higher that her confidence level leaped. In fact, Keisha tried repeatedly to get in contact with both her parents, Sandy, and even once-best-friend Kim. When she was shot down each time by disconnected numbers, ignored calls, not returned texts, and her father’s extremely rude secretary, Robin, Keisha still kept her composure together without falling apart.
Rico was feeling the pressure of the streets calling him back. Staying either in the house, or sometimes hanging with an overly nosey-as-fuck Swazy was growing old. His girlfriend was due to deliver at any moment, so Swazy’s hanging all night was about dead anyhow. And sure, Keisha returned to freely indulging in all his sexual fantasies, but that wasn’t enough. Her knowing about and sharing in all the extra pussy he was getting was quickly playing out also.
Before Rico knew it, he was back to sneaking around with his baby mama. Ocean was getting money hand over fist from her main trick. She told Rico, although the older married man was a straight-up freak and his pockets were deep, no amount of little blue Viagra pills he took could keep his dick as hard as Rico’s could get. So when they fucked, they fucked.
Chapter Sixteen
Distracted from bringing Rico down and Keisha back begging at his doorstep for forgiveness, Commissioner Jackson was spending his recent days concentrating on the upcoming election. Knowing he was almost neck and neck with at least one other candidate, every single move the county commissioner made for the next thirty days had to be carefully calculated. He was especially hard on his staff. Robin, Calvin, and everyone else on the payroll was putting in extra-long hours.
Swazy, of course, days away from being a new father, was ecstatic as well as relieved, not feeling the intense pressure that Keisha’s father and his driver-bodyguard, Calvin were putting on him for information about Rico. At this point, one thing and one thing only mattered to Mr. Jackson, and that was being re-elected to office. Keisha and her turbulent life would have to wait.
* * *
Bringing a hot cup of coffee to her boss and Robin, Sandy returned to the kitchen to prepare an evening snack for Mrs. Jackson. Having gotten over the insulting words and allegations, Sandy’s loyalty to Keisha’s mother was un-rocked. With a tray in her hands, she walked by the home office, listening to Robin rant and rave about how she would have redecorated this room and that room if this was her house.
This little bright-skin tramp got some nerve coming in here talking like that. Parading through here in that tiny skirt like she’s running something! Sandy angrily thought, climbing the staircase. If Mrs. Jackson was well, I know she’d rip that hussy’s hair out from the roots. I wish I could just find Keisha and tell her that her mom needs her.
Not bothering to knock, Sandy opened the always-dark room, finding Mrs. Jackson damn near coughing up a lung. She was drastically losing weight, seemingly with no hope to live. Sandy was forced to take action. Commissioner Jackson had strict orders inside the household that no family business was to be discussed, brought up, or mentioned whenever they had visitors. Robin, although Mr. Jackson’s personal secretary, was still considered an outsider to inner household dealings. So, Sandy alerting him to his wife’s physical or mental condition in Robin’s presence would be considered against the rules.
“Fuck him and his rules.” Sandy wasted no time running down the steps and marching into the office.
“Excuse me, Sandy.” Mr. Jackson looked up from a small pile of papers while Robin, who was leaning over him, adjusted her blouse. “Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want to be interrupted?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts, Sandy. Can’t you see we’re busy?”
“Busy?” Sandy raised her eyebrows in a suspicious manner. “Well, I need to speak to you, sir. It’s very urgent.”
“I guess good help that follows orders is hard to find, huh?” Robin smartly replied, acting as if she was frustrated with Sandy’s insistence and even her mere presence.
Sandy had endured enough of Robin’s over-the-top comments and the dodging of putting her calls through to Commissioner Jackson at the office. Coming all the way into the home office, closing the door, Sandy cornered the slick-mouthed Robin.
“Listen, you wanna-be little whore. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you ever try to come in between me and this family, I’ll fucking kill you.” With clenched teeth, Sandy’s eyes bulged. “Are we clear?”
“Whatever.” Sucking her teeth, Robin maneuvered her way out the corner of the room, dismissing Sandy’s irate threat as a joke. “That hood talk doesn’t mean anything to me. Why don’t you go cook something? Make a bed, dig a ditch, or whatever it is you do around here. Poof, be gone.”
“Oh, for real? Well, in a hot minute, I’m gonna be kicking your narrow ass around here. How about that? If Keisha was here, I swear for God.”
“Listen, listen!” Mr. Jackson demanded, coming in between the two. “I don’t have time for this. As much as any man enjoys a good catfight, I’m not in the mood. And Sandy, what did I say about mentioning that name under this roof? Now, what in the hell is so damn important?”
Practically begging the once dutiful husband to go upstairs and see firsthand Mrs. Jackson’s downward-spiraling health condition, Sandy was left stunned and speechless as he ordered her to just keep monitoring his wife and wait until after the election to take Keisha’s mother to the doctor. It was bad enough he’d not been in to check on Mrs. Jackson’s physical well-being in days, claiming he himself had been feeling under the weather and didn’t want to spread germs, but now he wanted to deny her much-needed medical attention.
“Please, I think we should do something now. She’s getting worse,” she whispered discreetly as they walked. “She needs help. I don’t think she looks well.”
“Sandy, don’t disobey me. As long as you’ve lived in this house, you know I don’t like that, don’t you?” Mr. Jackson raised his voice, yanking at her wrist. “Now, please do as I wish. I don’t want to ask you anymore.”
“Yeah, Sandy!” Robin yelled, now out of the office as well and posted at the bottom of the stairs.
“Robin, stop telling her how to do her job and do your own. You’re starting to be more trouble than you’re worth. Now, let’s get back to work.”
Needless to say, Sandy was pissed he was handling her and the dire situation the way he was. Not only was Mr. Jackson ignoring the fact that his almost non-responsive wife needed help, but now he was allowing Robin to feel she was someone that she wasn’t—a boss.
If he thinks I’m going to sit around here and remain silent, he’s a bigger asshole than I always thought he was. Disappearing back up the stairs, she ducked into Keisha’s old room, looking at all of the pictures, different awards, trophies, and other accomplishments the young lady whom she’d always been so close to growing up had accumulated. Don’t worry, Keisha. I know how hurt you’d be if something or someone was to bring harm to Mrs. Jackson. It ain’t shit stronger than a mother’s love for her child.
Laying Keisha’s eight-by-ten framed high school graduation picture down with the entire family on it, including her and the recently-proven-to-be-shady character Kim, Sandy picked up the receiver of the house phone sitting on the white desk. Moments later, the operator at 911 reassured Sandy help for the commissioner’s wife was on the way.
Unlike the neighboring Detroit, seemingly seconds later, lights flashing and sirens blaring, an ambulance pulled up in the circular driveway of the suburban home. With no other choice but to play the devoted husband, an infuriated Mr. Jackson informed the EMS technicians he’d follow the rig in his own car.
“My driver Calvin is away on personal business. Just let me grab my car keys, and I’ll be right behind you guys.” The commissioner put on his best concerned act, worthy of a year’s free pass with the weed man. “Please hurry and help my dear wife. She means everything to me.”
Before pulling off past the crowd of nosey neighbors, including a reporter for the local newspaper, Mr. Jackson demanded in
no uncertain terms that Sandy pack all of her belongings and vacate the premises before he returned.
“If you think I’m playing around this time, Sandy, you’re sadly mistaken. Pack your belongings and get the hell out. You can go find Keisha for all the hell I care. You two are just alike. Sluts!”
“You don’t have to worry about me. My entire life you’ve treated me like shit on a stick. I’m tired of being a second-class citizen around this madhouse any goddamn way,” Sandy huffed. Vindictively, she was now in tears. “But one day, somebody gonna repay you for all the cruel things you do and the inhumane way you treat people.”
Wow, this night couldn’t be going any better if I planned it. With a smug expression on her face, Robin, nothing more than a hood rat on the come-up, got into her vehicle and followed behind her boss, just in case he needed a shoulder to cry on. First Keisha, now Sandy. Fuck what you heard. All I need is for that old, dried-up bitch to die tonight, and it’s on and popping.
Chapter Seventeen
“Okay, Rico. Enough is enough. This is the third time this week you hanging out in them streets.” Keisha followed behind him as he attempted to get dressed. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you make a commitment to me, to us? You said things were never going back to before.”
Rubbing lotion on his chiseled chest, Rico stared into the mirror. Putting on his blue jean shorts, he made sure the top of his boxers were showing just enough as he fastened his belt. “Look, Keisha, I don’t wanna hear all that lip, so fall the fuck back before you see the old Rico Campbell for real.”
“I knew the way you was acting was coming to an end. I knew the bullshit was only a matter of time,” she yelled in his face. “I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.”
“Damn, girl. Why is you bugging? You acting like you straight-up crazy.”
“Naw, you the crazy one, three times this freaking week.”
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