Renee

by Brandie Davis

  Slice was a lot of things when it came to the streets, but no one knew he was a woman beater. Surprisingly, the memories of her ER visits and of her neighbors calling the police during the wee hours of the morning couldn’t stop Janae from hurting over his death. A piece of her missed the man he had pretended to be during the first two months of their relationship. However, she wondered whether everyone would they still love him if they knew this side of him.

  As she sat in the last row of the church, Janae listened to the pastor talk about life and death. Her eyes were dancing across the sea of tear-drenched, sorrowful faces when Janae saw her. Janae thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but the more she looked and focused on the woman, the more she knew her eyes were far from deceiving her. Renee sat in a formfitting, sheer-sleeved black dress and had a pair of wedged heels on her feet. A veil graced her face, but Janae could see right through it. Next to her sat Lyfe. The two were emotionless.

  Did she return to pay her last respects to an old friend? Janae asked herself. She remembered Slice running with Renee when they were in high school. She bit down on the inside of her lip and shook her head. All it took was death to bring her ass back, Janae thought. I should have killed her family when I threatened to do it.

  Janae’s leg began to bounce, and the hand that held on to the obituary started to sweat. If she had killed Sheila and Page when she first returned to Brooklyn, she would have forced Renee out of her hiding spot a long time ago. However, looking at the face of her sister’s killer now, Janae knew it was too late for shoulda, coulda, woulda’s. Renee was right there, right in front of her. She’d finally found her, and that was all that mattered.

  During the remainder of the service, Janae watched Renee’s every move. She was so mesmerized by Renee, she nearly forgot the reason she had attended the funeral. When it was time for the mourners to make their way to the burial site, Renee and four men, including Lyfe, were the first ones up and out the door. Janae hugged the sidelines and watched as Renee gracefully exited the church. As she walked out, she stood between the men, as if surrounded by armor.

  Keeping a safe distance, Janae followed Renee out of the church. She was grateful she had got a parking spot right in front of the church, because she was right behind Renee when they pulled off. This was Janae’s lucky day. After the burial, she followed Renee all the way home and smiled throughout the ride.

  Reliving Slice’s funeral and how it led her directly to Renee caused Janae to smile as she enjoyed her bubble bath. She hadn’t been this happy and at peace in God knows how long. Yes, Jared had brought happiness to her life for a certain period of time, but deep down inside, she had known this happiness was temporary. She would never live life to the fullest if Leslie was unable to rest in peace. Janae needed her to cross over.

  Finding comfort in the hot bathwater, Janae closed her eyes. When she opened them minutes later, she saw Leslie sitting on the edge of the tub. Leslie didn’t look angry, but she wasn’t ecstatic either. Janae sat up, the water rocking back and forth and racing down the side of the tub. She gave her sister her full attention. A small smile formed on her lips.

  “Don’t worry. I found her. It’ll all be over soon, I promise,” she told Leslie.

  Leslie looked at Janae for a second, then reached her hand out.

  Janae followed suit, but right when their fingers were about to touch, Leslie disappeared. And just like that, Janae was no longer as happy and at peace as she’d been just a couple of minutes ago. Reality had set in, and Janae needed just a few minutes to herself, so she sank to the bottom of the bathtub and lay underwater for as long as her lungs would allow.

  Chapter 27

  Just hours ago, Renee had walked up to Slice’s closed casket and kissed it. Those aware of her identity kept their shock hidden. Incapable of taking their eyes off her, they exchanged whispers.

  “Is that Jordan?”

  “What the fuck is she doing here? She never shows her face.”

  “She’s sending a message.”

  Renee bypassed the whispers and caught their stares. The corner of her mouth rose, her half smile confirming their conclusion: things were changing, and it started with Renee stepping out in the open. This moment was liberating and gave her the confidence and push needed to promise herself she’d never hold herself back again.

  However, Renee’s exhilaration over this achievement dissolved when an uninvited guest visited her home after the funeral. Renee sat across from her lookalike, her face tight, lips in a frown, and eyes cold. It disgusted her how much they looked alike. Those looks she’d received from her father, she saw in this woman. Renee wanted so badly to be able to go back in time and erase finding out that her father had had another child. Had she been given the opportunity, she would have chosen to remain in the dark a little longer. Finding out about this sibling had brought her no comfort or delight, and she wanted this woman to disappear.

  “What the fuck is this supposed to do?” Renee spit at Lyfe, who sat next to her at the table. “There’s no need for us to meet.”

  Renee was angry beyond words. Her skin was hot, and every word that left her mouth dripped with venom. Ever since Lyfe had told her their family secrets, she had disrespected him every chance she got. Now that he had brought her father’s illegitimate child to her home, she despised him even more. Renee didn’t want to meet the young woman and accept the fact that she wasn’t Daddy’s only little girl. All she wanted to do was go back in time and cut out the part when Lyfe came clean.

  Never in Lyfe’s existence had he felt so helpless and weak. Ever since he told Renee the truth, she had been giving him hell. He had been around her for years and knew the coldness she had in her heart, but looking at her now, he saw that her cold heart was about to burst and leave her with no heart at all.

  “She’s your sister, Renee. Don’t you want family you can see and talk to?”

  Renee knew he was referring to the fact that she did not communicate with her sister Page and her mother. “She’s not my family. Her ass is a mistake, a product of my father’s infidelity.”

  “Fuck you!” Carmen screamed.

  Renee smiled, happy to have gotten under the young woman’s skin.

  Lyfe raised his hand, signaling for Carmen to be quiet. He took a deep breath and focused on Renee. “Your father didn’t have an affair. He was separated from your mother when he got with Raquel.”

  “If they weren’t legally separated or divorced when he fucked that woman, then he had an affair, and no one can tell me different.” Renee had fire in her eyes as she stared at Lyfe. She dared him to challenge her. He may have been her uncle, but she was still his boss. “You bring this bitch to my house, expecting me to welcome her with open arms. You must be out your damn mind. I suggest you take her raggedy ass back home.”

  “I’m not about to let you keep disrespecting me, so I suggest you watch your damn mouth!” Carmen yelled. Carmen had had enough. She hadn’t asked to be born into this situation, yet Renee insisted on treating her like dirt. Renee didn’t even know her to speak so rudely about her.

  Renee whipped her head in Carmen’s direction. “And what the fuck you gonna do?”

  Carmen opened her mouth to respond but quickly shut it. There was nothing that she could do. This wasn’t Miami, and she was no longer the head bitch in charge. Once upon a time, Carmen was the woman of a wealthy hustler in Miami, Florida, where she grew up. Carmen was the biggest gold digger you could stumble upon, so when she snagged Benz, she milked him for all he was worth. Materialistic, greedy, and self-centered, Carmen loved what he could give her.

  After two years of living the life of the rich and famous, it all came crashing down. Benz met someone else, a good girl, and she talked him into leaving the game alone. Before Carmen knew it, Benz kicked her out of his home and deserted the game. Carmen was devastated. She had no money and no place to go, so Lyfe flew in and saved the day. He moved her to New York, where he got her a brownstone, and he had been t
aking care of her ever since, financing her shopping sprees and all.

  Carmen wished she still had Benz’s goons, so that she could set Renee straight, but she didn’t. It was obvious from the magnificent home and the way Renee spoke that she was the boss. So Carmen sat there and bit her tongue.

  Lyfe looked at Carmen. It pained him to see the look on his baby niece’s face. He knew the life she had once lived, and he knew she wasn’t used to such disrespect. Renee had the life Carmen used to have, and Renee probably would always have it.

  “Renee, give this a chance. Family is all you have. You’re gonna need her one day,” Lyfe pleaded.

  “Need her for what? There’s nothing this . . .” Renee pointed at Carmen. “Thing can do for me. You know better than to bring random motherfuckers into my circle. Now get her the fuck out of here!” Renee stood up and headed toward the dining-room door.

  Carmen admired her outfit and the diamonds that graced her wrist.

  That has to be custom made, she thought to herself.

  When Renee was gone, Carmen looked at her uncle, who looked like he had aged overnight. “What do we do now, Unc?”

  “I don’t know.” Lyfe leaned over the table with his hands folded. “Carmen, I know you wanted to meet your sister and even hoped to have a relationship with her. But I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t see her ever accepting you. Are you sure you want to keep trying?”

  Carmen looked Lyfe dead in his eyes. She hadn’t been surer about anything in her whole life. When Lyfe had sat her down and had told her she had a half sister, he’d held nothing back. He’d mentioned how she was older, tough and, most importantly, rich. When Carmen heard that Renee was wealthy and was the person responsible for paying Lyfe his shitload of money, she wanted in. Carmen planned to kill her sister with kindness and mooch off her. Now that she had seen that her sister was indeed a millionaire and in command, she no longer wanted to be taken care of by others. She wanted to be the boss.

  Renee had shown Carmen the light and had proved that compared to what she was doing, being a gold digger got you pennies. Renee was a boss, and seeing a woman in power like that made Carmen want to be a boss herself. She’d never have to worry about anyone taking care of her or kicking her to the curb again. The only thing wrong with this picture was that Carmen didn’t want to work for it. She didn’t want to start at the bottom and build her way up. She wanted to take it. She knew that if she was going to take Renee’s spot on the throne, she had to get close to her and gain her trust. She needed to know things, such as who Renee’s connect was, and she had to pull Renee’s soldiers over to her side. Carmen didn’t care how hard Renee was. She was going to get into her circle and snatch her crown.

  Carmen smiled her winning smile. “I’m not giving up, Unc. I’ll do whatever it takes to win her over.”

  Chapter 28

  Sheila sat her purse on the passenger’s seat of her two-week-old Jeep and rolled down all four windows. The loss of her second husband had left her spending huge amounts of money uncontrollably in an attempt to build a wall between herself and her emotions. But what was worse was that ever since Curtis’s death, she had been suffering from nightmares on a nightly basis. One recurring nightmare was of her standing in the middle of a giant circle. Strangers of every sex, race, and size surrounded her, each person’s arm stretched out, fingers pointed at her while chanting, “Black widow! Kill her before she kills again!”

  This was not the first time death had brought an unhealthy number of nightmares to steal Sheila’s sleep. Vicious dreams had plagued her every night after the death of her first husband, and these recurring night terrors had resulted in her driving around the city night after night. Sheila had driven faster than the law permitted on the empty road, and with her windows down, she had relished the wind whipping through the car. The breeze and the absence of large numbers of people out on the street had helped ease her mind and had enabled her to forget the nightmares that had forced her awake.

  Tonight’s dream had been of both her late husbands. They’d stood in front of her, and she’d felt a sense of peace that was so soothing when their smiles found their way to their eyes. Neither of them had spoken, however, when she reached out to rub each of their cheeks. Then they disappeared. Sheila sat at the foot of the bed, crying, when Daniel, her first husband, returned in a new form. His face was filled with black vines that hung below his neck, and his mouth was stitched shut. Sheila tried moving away, then sprinted for the door, but he pulled her backward and stabbed her in the back. She could feel the knife penetrating her skin, shredding her flesh, and destroying any organ in its way.

  This was the first time she had ever conjured up her own death in a dream. The experience had caused her breathing to increase, her chest to tighten, and her eyes to shoot open. There were plenty of things worth being frightened of after Sheila closed her eyes, but this terror had felt more like a punishment than her subconscious talking to her. Now as she pulled off in the Jeep, Sheila turned the volume of the radio up to the highest notch and got lost in the memories the music brought to her, all in an effort to rid herself of the imagery of death. She caught the tail end of a popular R & B song that had played in the background when Curtis proposed to her. The tune then turned into the slow jam she and Daniel had danced to on their wedding day. Then came the one song that broke her heart three times over every time she heard it. It was an oldie but goody, a heartbreaker, and she had played it over and over again the night she discovered Daniel was having an affair.

  Sheila forbade herself from singing along and becoming emotional about the best and the worst times of her life that she recalled, but as with everything else she set out to do, she failed. When the singer of the heartbreaker hit her final high note, her musical goodbye released Sheila’s pent-up tears. The torrent of tears clouded her vision, and her breathing became labored. With one hand she drove, while forcefully drying her face with the other. The outpouring of tears relieved the pressure on her heart; however, the amount of heartache her past relationships had left her with kept her tears on repeat. As she drove, she looked in the rearview mirror, and looking back at her was her bloated, dry face.

  When she felt another round of tears gathering, she kept it at bay by holding air in her mouth and giving herself bubble cheeks. She sped down the street and then turned into a neighborhood covered in darkness owing to the large number of trees and the limited streetlights. After screeching to a halt in a parking space on the street, she slapped on the dome light above her head, balled her hands into fists, bent her knees, then freed her tears and wails.

  “Ahhh!” Her screams leaked out of the car and seemed to disturb the darkness. Sinking her head into the headrest, she caught her breath, pushed out more tears, and went for a second round of screams.

  “Ahhh!” she screamed, letting go of the negative energy eating away at her.

  “Let it out. Let it out,” Sheila told herself out loud. Then she gathered as much air into her lungs as possible, steeled herself in her seat by holding on to the car, and screamed bloody murder. “Ahhh!”

  Keep going. You’re almost there. You’re almost there.

  Sheila screamed some more and pushed her head harder against the headrest. Then her screams seemed to get stuck inside her mouth, and what did come out was muffled. Sheila grabbed at the hand that was now covering her mouth, and dug her nails into the leather glove shielding that hand. She swung one fist behind her while still trying to tear the hand off her mouth. The longer she fought, the more her fear intensified and the more the hand tightened its grip on her mouth.

  Sheila pushed her body upward and managed to loosen slightly the hand that covered her mouth. She reached for the door and was unlocking it when she was stabbed in the side of the neck. Overwhelmed and in shock from the unknown poison that had been injected in her, Sheila froze in her seat. Venom traveled through her bloodstream, immobilizing her and then rendering her unconscious.

  * * *

 
Sitting near the water in New Jersey, there was a run-down, raggedy house long overdue to be torn down. The family that once occupied it had left over five years ago, and ever since it had stood empty, an eyesore for the city. Anyone who walked by cringed at the sight of it. The outside was hideous, so folks could only imagine how the inside looked. Most thought it was probably cold, dark, and damp, the result of no life inhabiting it. Only a crazy person would walk into that house and dare to stay in there for more than five minutes without fear of the floor collapsing or rats running across their feet. That crazy person was Dane. She wore a dark brown wig in the style of a bob cut, and she was dressed in all black. Beside her stood Metro, who wore a bald cap, a fake mustache and goatee, and was also dressed in all black.

  They stood in a room in the basement, where heavy plastic covered the floor. There was nothing but three metal chairs, a bathtub in the middle of the room, and one lightbulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling, giving the room all the light it needed. For a summer day that had nearly hit ninety-five degrees, the room was fairly cold.

  Dane and Metro wore black hoodies to keep warm. They had been in that room for over an hour, waiting for Sheila, who was tied to one of the chairs, to wake up. The two were tucked away in the darkness when Sheila started to move. Her head slowly moved from left to right, and her eyelids began to flutter. Finally, Sheila’s eyes opened, she blinked a few times, and she tried to focus on what was in front of her. When her vision was where it needed to be, she looked around the room.

  Where the hell am I? Confused and lost, Sheila felt her heart rate increase and her body start to tremble. Then intense pain kicked in and forced her to be still. Once the pain subsided enough to bear, Sheila looked down and discovered that not only was she naked and tied to a metal chair, but her body was also covered in countless tiny cuts.