Lethal Love: Deceit can be Deadly

by Perri Forrest

  “Look at me, Nova. I’ve never seen you avoid eye contact. It’s one of the things that I admire about you.” I hesitated, but I finally did as he said. “I need you to promise that if there’s ever anything that you need, you come to me. I need you to know that the Missus and I are here for you. Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with us. Stuck.”

  I smiled big, feeling the love exponentially. “You act like that’s a bad thing! It could never be. I’ll gladly be stuck with the two of you. You guys are relationship goals. Like, you’re her king and it’s so clear that she’s your queen. It’s such a beautiful testament of love, for the world to see.”

  “And you’ll have it one day. With somebody that we both approve of. Because you know, I never liked that Drew character, right?”

  My mood perked up, at hearing that. “I did not know that!” I exclaimed, laughing through the statement. “Seriously?”

  “As a heart attack. And if I’d known what he was doing, he would’ve disappeared without a trace.” I formed my mouth to laugh, but the seriousness in Randy’s face told me that he wasn’t kidding. He sat back in his seat; his arms placed along the rests. “Poof,” he said, demonstrating with his hands. “But of course, I couldn’t say a word. All I could do was sit back and let it play out.”

  “I wish you’d told me.”

  “Would you have listened?”

  I pursed my lips, and squinted my eyes, then answered… “Uhh… probably not.”

  “Exactly. But now he’s out of the way and in comes Leo.”

  The mere mention of Leo’s name, had me blushing. Involuntarily, unplanned blushing. I smiled before I could gain control of my facial muscles.

  “We’re just friends,” I stated quickly, thinking that would end the conversation. How wrong I was…

  “You must’ve made more than a friendly impression to get flowers…” My hand came across my mouth, and my head shook side to side. “Yep,” he remarked. “I’m in the know.”

  “Clearly…” I acknowledged. “It’s… it’s a friendship,” I repeated. “Taking things really slowly. Like tortoise in the road, slow. But he is very much a nice guy. It’s just important that I pace myself.”

  Pace! Tuh! Tell the man the truth, that you’re smitten…

  “And I understand that. But this one, I can vouch for. You won’t find a more upstanding guy. I mean, besides me…” he said, smiling. “He’s a thousand percent, one of the genuine ones. Don’t let that dumb fuck leave a stain on your heart. He’s not worth it. He’s where he belongs. And that leaves you to find the right one.”

  “In due time.”

  “Okay. Well, knowing that you’re doing okay, is sweet music to my ears. I can relay the good news to Gayle. She’ll be happy. When are you free to come over for dinner?” he asked. “Maybe this weekend or early next week?”

  It didn’t take me long to answer. “This weekend works. Thanks for the invite.”

  When I left from seeing Mr. Canton, even though it was a great time, I still felt a little heavy. Heavy-hearted. I hated that I was starting to feel a way about things with Leo. Because as Randy had pointed out, Leo was a great guy. The kind of guy that I had always wanted. The kind of guy that I knew I deserved. The kind of guy that I was ready to take the next step with… when I was legally free.

  However, with this new obstacle in the road, I felt like I might need to pause on inviting something fresh into my life. Until such time that I knew how I would handle this Brock person. He seemed to have a leg to stand on, but I couldn’t be sure yet. Until I was, I wouldn’t be able to think straight. If I was being honest, it all had me in a very dark place. Not a strange place; I’d been here before. I just didn’t know I’d be back so soon.

  What I did know, was that there was no way I was going to allow this person to disrupt everything I had worked so hard for.

  Him and nobody else.

  38 | Brock Davis

  Brock lay across the king-sized bed, inside of his apartment in the eastern part of the valley. He was more content than he had ever been. Usually, there was some type of edge to him, that put him in one of two places—ready to fight or ready to fuck. Both were bad distractions. One had gotten him locked up in a county cell on more than one occasion. The other had gotten him locked up with the wrong broad for way too long. So, he needed a break from both. And what better time than now, to turn over a new leaf.

  He picked up his cellphone, and was about to access the Uber Eats app to order dinner, when a chiming ringtone sounded. “Shit,” he groaned, looking at the screen. It was only the eighth time they’d called in the past hour. “Desperate, much?” he pondered. “Suck my dick. What you’re not about to do is blow my motherfucking phone up like you’re demanding that I answer. Fuck that.”

  Brock smiled at having the upper hand, and for the ninth time, allowed the call to go to voicemail. He couldn’t believe what had fallen into his lap. People should really be more careful, he thought to himself, inwardly gloating that things were beginning to turn around for him. Shit, I deserve some good shit in my life.

  When his phone stopped ringing, Brock opened the app and went straight to Smashburger and ordered the works: Double BBQ bacon burger with an extra patty, two large fries, and a salted caramel shake. As soon as his food arrived, he was going to top it off with a glass of Johnnie Walker on minimal rocks.

  Yeah, baby. The celebration begins…

  Now, feeling good about everything, he decided that if Desperado called his line again, he would answer. Why not? He didn’t have anything to fear, nor did he have anything to answer for.

  Twenty or so minutes later, he got the notification that his food had been picked up and decided that now was a good time to get his drink. That way, after he ate his food, he could take a shower and climb in bed for the rest of the night. Fuck work. He’d decided that he wasn’t going in. He’d also decided that if everything worked out, he wouldn’t be going back at all. And if things went really, really well, he would be leaving Vegas altogether.

  Down the hall in his kitchen, Brock grabbed his bottle of Johnnie Walker and poured until his glass was half full. Just as he thought, moments after he stopped pouring, his pest’s call came through again. This time, he was all too happy to answer.

  Brock opened the call with a charged tone. “Listen…” he started. “Don’t ever call my phone back to back like that. I don’t owe you shit. And frankly, you’re coming off as desperate. Shit is pathetic.”

  “Well, if you’d answer, I wouldn’t have to. Did you get what I needed?”

  “What exactly is that?” Brock asked, sarcastically.

  “Please don’t play games with me. Did you… get what… I needed?”

  “Actually, I didn’t. I don’t think there’s anything to be gotten. She’s on the up and up. Might need to find another tree to bark up.”

  Brock muted his phone and laughed so hard that his temples began to throb, and his eyes started to water.

  “That’s not what the fuck you said before! You’re kidding, right?”

  “I don’t kid,” he answered, after unmuting the line.

  “So, you’re saying that even when you told her what you saw—”

  “What do you mean?” Silence hit the air like a thud when he spoke the words. On his end of the line, he was holding back gut-busting laughter. On the other end, he could sense the panic and distress. “Hello?” he added. “You there?”

  “Are you being serious right now?”

  “That’s the same question, asked a different way. I’m far from dumb. I mean, what proof do you have? Did you record anything that I—”

  “You know goddamn well I don’t have a fucking recording! I took you at your fucking word! Because I thought we were friends.”

  “You’re being really hostile. I’m not sure I wanna continue this conversation. I’m feeling good. Just poured me some Scotch whisky, got a good meal on the way. I just don’t… you know… want the negative vibes and all, you kno
w?”

  “Negative vibes, motherfucker? You’re playing with the wrong fucking person.”

  Brock stood tall. His smile faded to a scowl. “Is that a threat? Because it sounds a lot like one.”

  “N-n-no…” they stuttered. “But… I… fuck! Do you know how much I fucking have riding on this?”

  “I don’t. But by the way you’re spazzing, I’m guessing it’s a lot. I hope it all works out for you. But right now, I gotta go. My food just arrived and I’m starving.”

  “So, you’re really doing this?”

  “Doing what? Getting ready to eat? Yeah. It’s called hunger.”

  “What kind of game are you playing?”

  “Yeah, me and games don’t go hand in hand.”

  “They definitely do go hand—”

  “Have a yourself a nice evening. It was nice doing business with you.”

  “Brock! Wait a goddamn—!”

  Brock cut into the rest, by disconnecting the line.

  Oh, the power! He felt it coursing through his veins. He was on top of the world. Brock felt a pinch of guilt for handling the transaction the way he did, but what was done was done and he had a strong feeling that his life would be better for it.

  39 | Leo

  In something of a record for me, I had made it home by seven—two hours earlier than usual—and had already gone on a short two-mile run. I now stood at my kitchen island, with Sirius XM blaring through my speaker system, and cutting up items for my juice. I had a slab of fresh salmon soaking in olive oil and seasoning, preparing to be broiled, along with quinoa and sautéed asparagus.

  I had initially held off on dinner in case Nova and I were going to catch a meal out; but when I didn’t hear from her, I moved forward.

  Nova hadn’t answered her phone the few times I’d called. When I wasn’t able to reach her, I shot off a text asking: Everything good where you are? She had said that she would call when she got home, but I never heard from her. So, it wasn’t about invading her space, but more about making sure she was doing okay.

  At first, I thought maybe she’d worked late. But the more the hours passed, the more concerned I grew. When we spoke earlier in the day, she sounded like she was in good spirits, so it was surprising that she didn’t answer. She had to have seen the missed calls by now, as well as the text.

  My medley of Kale, spinach, apples, carrots, and some other fruit went into the Ninja. After the blending, I poured the light-brown concoction in a jar and put it in the refrigerator for later. After I washed the dishes I’d messed up, I went to hop in the shower. I stayed in for a while allowing the hot water and steam to relax me. My day had been long, and filled with meetings at an architectural firm, The Aria, and a couple of sites to check on my project managers.

  Without fail, getting in the shower made me realize just how exhausted I really was. Finding my second wind wasn’t an issue, though. As soon as I was dried off, I came back to life.

  Fresh out the shower, I checked my phone, only to find that Nova had neither called, nor texted back.

  As much as I wanted to respect Nova’s space, it mattered to me that she was safe. I wouldn’t have felt right going about my business if I didn’t make sure that she was. So, instead of putting my salmon on the broiler, and preparing the rest of my meal, I decided I wasn’t that hungry.

  Next thing I knew, I was in my bedroom shooting off another quick text:

  Me: Just let me know you’re good, Nova. Got a guy worried over here…

  I sat the phone next to me, kicked my sheets to the side, propped up my pillow then turned on the TV. Several minutes later, I felt the soft vibration signaling a notification.

  Nova: Hey, Leo. Sorry. Crazy day. Should’ve responded before now.

  Me: Man. At least you responded. You had me worried.

  Nova: That’s sweet. I’m good, though.

  Me: You sure?

  Nova: I’m sure.

  Me: For some reason I don’t really believe that.

  Nova: Today was a day. I won’t lie about that.

  Me: You need me to come over?

  Nova: No, it’s late. But I appreciate you thinking of me.

  Me: Of course. Was worried when you didn’t call once you made it in.

  Nova: I know. Sorry about that. That was the plan.

  Me: It’s cool. Just make sure you lean when you need to.

  Nova: Lean?

  Me: Yeah, on my shoulder. Whenever you need.

  Nova: That might not be such a good idea, Leo.

  Me: And why not?

  Several minutes passed. So many that I was beginning to think she wouldn’t respond. But just when I was about to chalk it up, she replied:

  Nova: I’m just not the best person.

  Me: Translation?

  Nova: I may not be the best person to lend yourself to.

  Me: Come on, Nova. Give me more than that.

  Nova: I’m just not a very good person. Kinda damaged a little.

  Me: Why don’t you pick up the phone so we can talk live…

  Nova: I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?

  She had done a 180.

  There was a sense of finality to her responses, a sense of darkness. Saying that I’m probably not the best person for her to lend herself to. That talk of being damaged again. It was a whole different vibe than when I had talked to her earlier.

  Something was off. Something that she didn’t want to discuss.

  40 | Nova

  Nova, what have you gotten yourself into?

  I thought I had everything under control. That I had mapped everything out the right way. The clean way. The undetectable way. But I was wrong. When the severity of the situation hit me in real time, it took over everything—my mental and my physical. I honestly didn’t know how to reel myself back in, and sit comfortably in that place of normalcy I’d been living in.

  I had a good place in life—up until that fucking clown showed up. That shit hit the reset button and took me back to having to figure shit out… a way out.

  What always gets me is how fucked-up life can be for the people that mean good. The good people always have to be the ones to get fucked over. Always have to be the ones to accept the bullshit and then be expected to walk around like life is sweet and dreamy. While the real culprits, the real assholes, get to proceed through life being repeat offenders, trampling on people’s lives. And now, because of the ones that trampled on my life, I had a threat to my freedom!

  I felt horrible about not answering Leo’s calls. I felt robbed not being able to talk to him. He had proven to be something of a lifeline for me, being there when I needed somebody to talk to.

  Life could be so unfair…

  Every time the phone rang and I saw Leo’s number, I contemplated whether or not to answer. In the end I decided not to. I didn’t want to hear my own voice, knowing that it was the voice of a representative. He would have picked up on it instantly. It was too much of a risk. The way I spoke so freely with him, I might’ve spilled out all my secrets. He really would have known just what I meant when I said that I was ‘kinda damaged’. Then it would be him that walked away from me.

  But none of it mattered now, because in the text, I had pretty much let him know that I’m not the person he thinks I am.

  I was fucked-up. In the head. In a major way. Killing was not a normal person’s go-to. But it had been mine—and not just once. They were times I wanted to forget. Times where I was triggered enough to do what I was taught to do. Taught, by a grandmother who made a living out of it. It was the coping mechanism she had taught both me and Gianna, at very early ages. Not anything that either of us wanted to make a part of our makeup; but that had subsequently become a part of our makeup.

  My grandmother died having only been charged for a single murder, but she had many more under her pretty little skirt. Many, many more. From New York, to California… she had left her mark. And it was always a man that had done her wrong.

  Men will learn one day t
hat their actions have consequences. That when they think with that head in their pants, it causes irreparable damage. They’ll learn that not all women are tightly wound enough to just walk away and leave them to the next victim. Sometimes it’s not easy to walk away. Sometimes the only time you can walk away is after you’ve seen the life leave their eyes—and for your eyes to be the last ones they see.

  In this case, the eyes that needed to see mine were Royce’s. And so, because I had once again been led down a dark path, I had opened myself up to be blackmailed. Extorted.

  But it was either going to be my freedom, or an occasional payout. Those were the terms that my extortionist had laid out. Now, it was just a matter of figuring out how that would all work…

  In the still of my room, after I texted Leo, ‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?’ I sat cross-legged in the middle of my bed. My hands rested on my knees, and with my head tilted skyward, I called out to my ancestors. None in particular, I just did. Hopefully, the judgmental ones weren’t the ones listening.

  I found myself swaying back and forth in an effort to find my center. That place that might lay out the welcome mat for my mind. I longed for a moment that seemed it would never come. Had moments ever really been good to me, though? Since I was a kid, it was one thing after another; one disappointment after another.

  Yesterday had been no different than all the other times:

  “Now why would I tell on you? That would be bad for me. Because a caged woman is a broke woman, and I just came to talk cold, hard cash…”

  I made him remove the jacket he was wearing. I made him stand in the corner of my office and out of view so that I could see that he wasn’t wearing any type of wire. I had his ass come out of his shoes. Power off his phone. Whatever I deemed a device, had to go. Keys and all. I had too much to lose. Once he had proven that he wasn’t on any double-cross shit, the floor was open.

  “And how much would that be?” I’d asked him.