“I’m no threat? I don’t have what it takes to be better than Renee?” Page growled.
Page felt her body temperature rise. Her hands balled into fists, and she felt herself get dizzy. All her life, she had fought to be better than Renee, had fought to achieve all that came easily to Renee. Deep down inside, she had known she wasn’t better, had known she could never compete. This had been confirmed when she learned Renee’s status. But to hear it come from someone else’s mouth made Page not responsible for her actions.
Page didn’t hesitate to open her mouth and slowly remove the razor blade. She held it in front of her and stared her mother in the eyes. “It’s okay. I know that I can never compare, but I also know that you chose to love the wrong daughter.”
The poison was taking its toll, and Sheila was dying. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, but before the poison could do its job, Page placed the blade up to Sheila’s neck and cut.
Chapter 30
The fresh air that hit Renee’s face did enough to place her at ease. Walking toward the front door of the bar, she took a deep breath, a small but beneficial attempt at shaking off the stress plaguing her insides. As she reached for the rusted gold doorknob, the door flew open, causing Renee to step back and watch as a man and woman walked out of the bar, their fingers intertwined. Their uproarious laughter and energetic steps brought the word tipsy to the forefront of Renee’s mind.
Once she was inside, Renee’s eyes automatically adjusted to the dimly lit, smoke-filled bar. The music was loud, forcing patrons to repeat themselves when speaking. There was a decent crowd. Enough bodies maneuvered around and sat around that newcomers just blended in. Behind the bar, the face of a young woman with a shaved head, a crop top, and pants two sizes too big glistened with sweat. In a hurry, she handed beers to three loud men embroiled in a debate, then immediately started making drinks for two women captivated by the sight of the men who had just been served.
Focused on the drinking making, the bartender addressed Renee. “What would you like?” Her voice was raspy, as rough as sandpaper.
“A Long Island,” Renee announced.
The bartender nodded, carried the drinks over to the women who were thirsty in more than one way, and then began working on Renee’s drink. Briefly, Renee closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The cigarette smoke she inhaled distracted her from the stress that had led her here, and she drew in more air in hopes that the more smoke she took in, the greater the chance that she’d totally forget the past few hours.
It was taking a lot for Renee to process the fact that Lyfe was her uncle. She had yet to decide how she felt about the situation, so when Lyfe had brought Carmen into her home today without her permission and had caught her off guard, she’d become consumed by rage. Renee had been given no time for her own history to sink in before Lyfe pushed Carmen into her life. Two hours ago she had lain beside Julian, but her thoughts had prevented her from entering into the deep slumber he was in. Held captive by her anger, she had roamed her home in search of liquor therapy. But then she’d decided she needed to be in a different environment, around people she didn’t know, who couldn’t surprise her with long-lost relatives. She’d headed to the bar.
Renee’s phone vibrated now. She reached inside her back pocket, pulled out her phone, and read the text on the bright screen.
You left while I was in the bathroom. Where are you?
Raspy was on her way with Renee’s order, her canvas shoes poking out beneath her pants, when Renee answered the text.
Out.
Renee stuck the device back in her pocket and ignored the vibrations from new text messages coming in just as Raspy placed her Long Island down on a paper coaster. She couldn’t deal with Jared now; she couldn’t deal with anyone now.
“Want me to start a tab?” Raspy asked.
Renee removed the straw from the glass, detached the lemon slice from the rim, and automatically placed the drink to her lips. Head back, Raspy watched the drink, which she’d added a lot of kick to, race down her customer’s throat.
Without extending the courtesy of hiding their gaze, the women Raspy had served right before Renee also watched her down her drink, for the first time taking their attention off the three great debaters.
“Okay. I’ll take that as a yes,” Raspy said.
Renee slammed the empty glass down. “Another one.”
“Coming right up.”
* * *
Page pulled a fifth of vodka out from under her driver’s seat, removed the top, and guzzled nearly half the bottle before she could no longer ignore the burning sensation in her throat. A group of people dressed down in jeans and T-shirts waited patiently at the door for an older gentleman full of gray to exit the bar, his feet dragging and chest heaving in and out with every step he took. Halfway out the door, Page took one last swig of her drink, slapped on a pair of oversize dark shades, hopped out of her car, and stepped behind the waiting group.
Eventually, each person in the group strolled inside the bar, and their leisurely pace gave Page the opportunity to look around. Just as the group suddenly stopped walking, in an attempt to scout out a place to sit, three men stepped away from the bar, giving Page a clear view of her sister. Now in close proximity to Renee, Page realized that she hadn’t changed. Page would have guessed, or at least she hoped, that Renee would appear battered and lifeless, her skin sunken in and her flesh clinging to her bones, for which the only logical explanation would have been drugs. However, Page’s bad wish had not been answered. Renee had held on to her teenage looks, though she now had a mature, womanly aura about her.
Page took in Renee’s slouched posture and the glass she was holding up to her mouth and tapping on, determined to extract every drop of liquor. The group Page was hiding behind walked away, having found a place to sit, and Page was now visible for all to see. She pulled the rim of her baseball cap down lower and sat at the bar, opposite Renee. An expansive collection of liquor bottles and drinking glasses separated the siblings and blocked their view of one another. Through a small opening between two bottles of rum, Page had a glimpse of Renee and was able to follow her actions. The tall glass she’d been tapping now sat in front of her, empty.
As Page watched her prey, someone bumped into her stool, stealing Page’s attention away from Renee. An overly skinny, blond-haired girl plopped down on the seat next to her. She moved her head back and forth, and strands of blond fell on Page’s shoulder. Disgusted, Page shrugged the hair off her and watched the blonde lean into the man she sat beside and indulge in a make-out session.
“You taste good,” her date told her in between kisses.
The blond giggled. “Mango lip gloss.”
Raspy walked over just then, repeatedly drying her hands off on her jeans. “What can I get you two lovebirds?” she said, interrupting the two.
He pulled away, but the blonde playfully attempted to smother his face with kisses. “I’ll have a Bud,” he said. Laughing, he dodged Blondie’s kisses. “We have all night for that. Place your order,” he told her.
Blondie blew him a kiss, then tapped his nose with her finger. Without looking at Raspy, she placed her order. “I’ll have a rum and Coke. More rum, less Coke.”
Raspy hit the bar with her palm. “Coming right up.”
Between the liquor bottles, Page watched Renee look down into her vacant glass, her facial expressions changing minute after minute.
“Enjoy.” Raspy sat the drinks down in front of the couple and took off.
“I’ll be back. I have to go to the little girls’ room.” Blondie snickered and stole a kiss right before she took off.
The guy dragged his date’s drink over to him. After two swigs of his beer, he leaned over and tapped Page’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to bother you, but would you mind getting the bartender’s attention? You’re a little closer to her than me.” He gave Page a bright, “good guy” smile, his ivory cheeks filling with red.
Page blew air out of
her mouth and looked down at the end of the bar, where Raspy stood drinking a glass of water. She threw her arm up, only for Raspy to walk away before she noticed her. Page rolled her eyes and turned back to Blondie’s date. “Sorry. I lost h—”
Just then he pulled his hand away from the rum and Coke and stuffed a small plastic baggie inside his pocket. When the bag was out of sight, Page looked at the glass and watched whatever he’d put in it dissolve. She looked at him. He looked around. Then, with flared nostrils and his hands balled into fists on top of the bar, he spewed, “You saw nothing. Got it?” Quickly, he faced forward and continued to drink his beer. His leg on the stool shook.
“Do you have more?”
“What?” Her question forced him to look at her.
“Do you have another roofie?”
His eyes jumped around the bar before falling on the hall leading to the restrooms. “Yeah.”
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars for it.”
A shaft of bright light indicated that one of the restroom doors had opened. An Asian lady came out of the women’s restroom, followed by the blonde. In haste, the guy dug inside his pocket and then handed over the baggie. The hundred-dollar bill Page gave him took the place of the baggie.
A fresh coat of lip gloss on her lips, Blondie sat down on her stool and crossed her legs. “Did you miss me?”
“Tremendously.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. “A table opened. Let’s head on over.” He got up from his seat and helped his date do the same. “Don’t forget your drink,” he instructed.
Raspy found her back to Page.
“Her in the brown, give me whatever she had,” Page said, gesturing to Renee as best she could due to the liquor bottles blocking her view.
New neighbors moved in next to Page shortly after Raspy slid her, her drink. Raspy looked around the bar, then checked in on other customers in need. In one quick movement Page dropped the pill into her drink and watched it dissolve.
Not long after, she mumbled, “Shit! This is a Long Island? I don’t fuck with Long Islands!” After getting Raspy’s attention, Page pointed at the drink. “The shit she was having was a Long Island, right?”
“Yes. You said you’d take what she had, and she had a Long Island.”
Page pushed the drink toward her. “It didn’t look like one from over here.” Page’s face scrunched up. “Give it to her. I don’t want it.”
Raspy’s thin eyebrows fell inward.
“I didn’t drink from it. I can obviously tell what it is up close by the smell,” Page said.
The bartender took the drink. “I’ll toss it and give you something else.”
“I used to bartend, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s how much the boss hates wasting liquor, not to mention how tough it is not to receive a tip after giving such good customer service, even when you’re the only bartender serving a packed bar.” Page paused and gave her a sad look just before placing a fifty-dollar bill down on the bar.
Raspy eyed the bill.
“Yo, bartender! Over here!” shouted a man wearing a Mohawk.
Raspy’s cheek caved in. Page imagined a glob of flesh sucked in between her teeth.
“Bartender!” a different voice yelled.
“I bet they won’t even tip,” Page noted.
With her free hand, Raspy snatched the bill.
“Tell her it’s on the house,” Page instructed.
The bartender rushed over to the side of the bar Renee sat on, and placed the drink down in front of her.
“I didn’t order this.” Renee slurred a little.
“Today’s your lucky day. It’s on the house.” Raspy tucked the fifty-dollar bill inside her bra strap and got back to work.
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, and not even halfway through her “courtesy” drink, Renee was overwhelmed by feelings of discomfort and dizziness. Her elbows sat on the bar, while her fingers combed strands of her hair out of her face. Suddenly, the bar became hot, and sweat covered her face.
“I need air,” she mumbled.
Renee slid off her stool and started walking slowly. Not far from the door, she swayed from side to side. She grabbed ahold of a wall and used that to help her keep her balance as she walked out the door. Once outside, she pressed her back against the building and caught her breath. Her hands repeatedly wiped her face.
“Fuck it,” she huffed. “I’m going home.”
Her feet carried her in the direction of her building, but they failed her once she got to the dark entrance of a park. She stumbled, feeling as if a boulder were attached to her feet. Trees leaned into one another, their leaves blocking the light of the moon. Renee passed empty benches then stumbled farther into the park, to where the swing sets and basketball courts were. Her vision was blurry now, and she felt sleepy. Renee lowered herself down onto a bench and felt relieved to finally be off her feet.
“Miss, are you okay?” Page stood a few feet away from Renee, the trees her shield.
Renee was trying to focus on Page, whose voice she did not recognize, but her eyes crossed and Page’s silhouette became distorted. “Ye—” Before Renee could get the entire word yes out, she passed out.
“Miss, are you okay!” Page yelled again. When she got no response and saw no movement, Page reached inside her pocket and took her box cutter in her hand. She walked up to Renee, whose body was limp and lifeless, her hand hanging off the bench. “You fuckin’ bitch,” Page snarled as she lifted the blade up to Renee’s neck.
“What the fuck are you doing!” yelled a male voice.
Not far from Renee and Page stood a tall man. He made his way toward them.
Page quickly put her weapon away. When the man reached her and Renee, she said, “Thank God! I didn’t know what to do. I think she’s drunk. I saw her in the bar up the block and found her here.”
He slid himself between Page and Renee. Then he bumped hard into Page, and she staggered backward. “I got her,” he spit.
“Do you know her?”
“She’s my girlfriend. You can leave now.”
“Oh, okay. Good. I’m glad you found her.” Page tried to put on a smile, to convey that she was an innocent citizen who had tried to do right, but really she was seething inside.
Lucky bitch, she thought.
A second later Page rushed out of the park, feeling the need to disappear before she started acting irrationally.
He watched the stranger until she left him and Renee alone. He picked Renee up and headed home.
“I knew putting that tracker on your phone would come in handy one day, but you really have to watch your liquor,” Jared said aloud as he carried her. Then he kissed Renee on the forehead.
Once more, he had saved her life.
Chapter 31
Like Laurence Fishburne in the film Boyz n the Hood, Julian sat behind his desk in his home office, rotating two Chinese stress-relief balls in his hand. Stress had attached itself to him like a bad rash he couldn’t get rid of. His eyes were stuck on the seat Lincoln had occupied only minutes prior, and Julian constantly replayed in his mind what Lincoln had told him. Waves was the one responsible for leaking Jordan’s identity. Because Waves had run his mouth to his sister, Tina, Renee was in danger. Her sister was coming for her.
If the balls in his hand weren’t made of steel, Julian would have crushed them to dust by now. His anger was at an all-time high. He should have listened to Dane. He should have taken Page out as soon as word got back to him about what she had planned. But he’d hesitated, scared to bring more pain to his woman’s life. Now that he had decided to sic Dane on Page, she was nowhere to be found.
Multiple thoughts ran through Julian’s mind. If Waves ran his mouth about who Renee is, what else did he tell? No words could describe the anger Julian was feeling. He had a blabbermouth on his team, and the reality of it was eating him alive. What made matters worse was that Carmen had had entered their world.
When Julian saw Carmen’s fac
e in his mind, he got up and threw the Chinese balls at his office door, and the impact of the balls created a hole in the wood. Everything was falling apart, and it had all started on the day of Slice’s funeral. He thought back to that day.
Renee, Lyfe, and a few of their goons attended Slice’s funeral. Julian didn’t think it was such a good idea to attend, but Renee was adamant. She said that by going, she would be spitting on Slice’s grave, and that showing her face would make a statement. Everyone except for Julian went to the funeral and witnessed the streets mourn the death of an old friend. When Slice was put in the ground, Julian was back at Renee’s home, furious that she was attending the funeral. Eventually, sleep took him over, and he fell into a deep slumber. Hours later, he woke up to an empty bed and made his way downstairs.
Jared was sitting in the living room, tension written all over his face. When he saw Julian enter the living room, he tried to calm himself down, not wanting to show his displeasure about Julian being in the house.
“Where’s Renee? Did she come back yet?” Julian asked. He stood there, dressed only in jeans.
Jared’s jaw locked. With an expressionless look on his face, he told him, “She’s in her office.”
Julian made his way to Renee’s office on the lower floor. Jared hadn’t told him Renee wasn’t in there alone, so when Julian went to open up the door, he heard a several voices coming from the office, so he stopped and pressed his ear against the door to listen. Whomever Renee was talking to, she sure as hell wasn’t holding back any punches.
Julian cracked open the door, peeked in, and saw Lyfe sitting beside Renee. Across from them sat a woman in a tank top and jeans. Julian squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look at the woman. He thought he knew her from somewhere. After seconds of searching through his memory bank, it hit him. She was the woman from the plane.
He closed the door quietly. Julian’s hands became fists, and he wanted to punch holes in every wall in the hallway, but he controlled himself and leaned against one of the walls instead. The day he was on the plane to Jamaica to meet with Dane, he had met Carmen. She had ordered him a drink, and due to the stress from finding out about the loss of his child, Julian had been rude to her and not very gentlemanlike. The two had instantly disliked each other, but their displeasure with one another had drawn them together. Before Julian knew what was happening, they were in the tight space of the bathroom, having sex.
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