The Hearts We Burn

by Briana Cole

  Chevy Malibus, Expeditions, and other baller-type vehicles lined the driveway and curb outside the house and men spilled out into the street amidst smoke and loud music. I had to park a little ways down and walk back.

  “Hey, Shawty.” A dude with a dirty looking afro called out to me. I ignored him as another guy nudged Dirty ‘Fro and gestured to me with his blunt.

  “Nah, boi. That’s Barlow’s girl.”

  That statement did make me a little uneasy. Barlow’s girl. Was I Barlow’s girl? With a whole ass husband at home? I had been a mother, a wife, and now this was what I had been reduced to? Right then and there I should’ve stopped in my tracks and turned around. Should’ve gone back to the comfort of my car and driven to my house. But what was back there for me? A nursery, devoid of life but filled with the ghosts of my dead children? I kept strutting to the porch. Fuck that. Barlow’s “girl” or not, I couldn’t bring myself to go back. No, not when just inside, was my answer. My pacifier. My feel-good.

  The house was consumed in darkness and smoke. If I hadn’t gotten so used to the smell of weed while dealing with Barlow, the thick cloud of it would have made me sick. Instead, I squinted through the dense curtain and was able to make out numerous bodies either grinding on each other in the middle of the living room or laid out together on numerous couches and fold-out chairs. The bass of the music drowned out the actual music itself and was causing the beginnings of a headache to brew. Not long, I assured myself. Let me just find Barlow, give him some, and leave. This was definitely not my scene.

  Someone’s hand brushed my ass and I turned to see a woman in a skin-tight neon yellow catsuit and big weave grinning and licking her lips. She was close enough I could see her eyes looking me up and down appreciatively.

  “You looking for me, Ma,” she asked, her words slurred by the alcohol. I noticed she kept flicking her nose and no matter how casual the gesture, the coke use was clear.

  “Where is Barlow?” I yelled over the noise. The name obviously held weight and seemed to bust her high. She nodded towards the kitchen and turned around, disappearing in the crowd.

  I maneuvered through drunken bodies and made my way towards the tiny galley kitchen, also stuffed with people propped and sitting on the dingy counters. Despite the congestion, the person stirring something on the stove, the money not-so-discreetly changing hands, it was obvious this was still business. Of course.

  I could make out Barlow at the round dining room table. He had a woman on his lap, some busty chick who looked to be only in a bathing suit, hunched over the table. When she sat up, I saw the bit of white residue on her nose and the rolled bill in her hand. A mirror rested in front of them with a few more lines of coke dribbled across the glass. I paused.

  Barlow had mentioned this several times, me doing coke, but I was adamant on sticking to my pills. Anything more was just too much, too far and I certainly wasn’t prepared for it.

  Miss Busty leaned back on Barlow’s shoulder, her eyes closed and Barlow used his finger to swipe the remaining power substance from the side of her nose into her nostril. She sniffed and flinched before sighing.

  I started to back up, though there was nowhere for me to go without bumping into folks. Barlow looked up and seeing me, he smiled and gestured for me to come over. And that was all it took. Hell he was like a drug in and of himself and like I was gravitating to my own addiction, my feet propelled me forward until I was standing directly in front of him.

  Without speaking, Barlow nudged the woman from his lap and obediently, she rose before stumbling forward. He pulled my arm until I was now seated on his lap and he kissed my neck, his breath and body reeking of liquor. I cringed.

  I leaned down close to his ear so he could hear me over the chaos. “You got my stuff?” I asked.

  Barlow chuckled to himself and took a sip of whatever was in a red, plastic cup at his elbow. He held the drink out to me. I hesitated before taking a sip myself. The brown liquid burned my throat and brought tears to my eyes. Thankfully, Barlow polished off the rest of it.

  “You need to loosen up, Lil’ Thick,” he said and brought a dollar bill in front of my face. I shook my head and gently pushed his hand.

  “You know I don’t do that,” I said. I then leaned in and kissed him, hoping to cause a little distraction. His tongue was rough on mine, almost possessive, and I felt his hand reach up to clasp the back of my neck. His grip tightened and to my surprise, he pulled my face away from his and angled it towards the table.

  “Try it,” he said, his voice laced with aggravation. “You been coming more and more to get stuff from me so you obviously need something stronger. This the shit you need.”

  I blinked and could only stare at the powder not even an inch from my face. This seemed wrong on so many levels. But hell the whole thing was wrong. I shouldn’t have been here in the first place. Sitting on the lap of a drug dealer, kissing and letting him feel me up while I begged for pills. But in my mind, as long as I stayed away from the illegal narcotics, I was good. I slept better at night knowing I hadn’t stooped to that level. I had never had a desire to do hard drugs. Hell I had seen enough movies and TV shows to know what it did to people. But was I that much different? Just got my little fix in a different type of way, but I needed a fix just the same. And would this really make me feel better? Because truth be told, I felt I was slowly becoming immune to the effects of the pills. Barlow was right. I was frequenting his place more and more and knocking them things back like candy that was for sure. Was my pain just that abundant? Or was I slowly becoming numb to any kind of relief?

  I didn’t realize Barlow had, again, placed the rolled dollar bill to my face until the paper grazed my cheek. He kept his hands on my neck, my face positioned down to the drugs on the mirror and I could only stare at my reflection between the jagged lines of powder going across my distraught face. But I moved almost mechanically placing the tip of the bill to my nostril and angling the other end to the coke powder. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I had seen Barlow do the same thing on numerous occasions.

  I inhaled, the immediate sting hitting my head with the consumption of the drugs. I couldn’t even make it through the whole line before I dropped the dollar bill and rose, gasping for air. My nose was burning and I suddenly felt dizzy so I stood, hunched over the table and squeezing my eyes shut so the room would stop spinning. Then, slowly, I felt that feeling. That floating surreal feeling that I craved because it made me feel light, instead of heavy under the burden of my misery. I didn’t realize I was smiling until I felt lips touch mine, a tongue coaxing my mouth open as if seeking for some hidden treasure. My body suddenly felt enflamed and I returned the kiss, hungry for the desire that was consuming me. I was so out of it that I didn’t even realize the lips felt entirely too soft, too feminine, too good.

  Someone was carrying me to a room and suddenly, the music seemed to fade. Someone was touching me all over, I couldn’t be sure who or where. I just knew my body was enjoying this attention and I welcomed every bit of it. I was too focused on this to even think about anything else but this sexual energy that had my body throbbing. And aching.

  More soft lips, slick tongues, gentle caresses. How many? I had long since not bothered counting. Just lay naked and open, not wanting the feeling to end. I rode on this euphoria until I was brought to ecstasy and I lay spent in my own sweat and juices. And then, when I chanced opening my eyes and tried to adjust to the darkened room, I saw Barlow, completely clothed, his body silhouetted in a haze of his own smoke as two women, one of them in the skin-tight catsuit from earlier, tiptoed out the bedroom door.

  I blinked, not really sure what I was seeing, or even if I had seen what I thought. Barlow reached in his pocket and pulled out a Ziploc bag, this time packed so tight with pills that it was nearly busting at the elastic, and tossed it on the bed beside me. It hit my leg and I eyed the medicine, almost desperately.

  Not sure if I was so focused on the pills or if suddenly the musi
c was louder. But I saw Barlow’s mouth moving though I couldn’t make out what he was saying. He smirked and I heard what sounded like him mumble something about a “crackhead ass” before he left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving me sitting there in the soaking sheets, the stench of sex surrounding me, naked. And alone. I didn’t even know I was crying until I felt the tears sliding from my face to drip on my breasts. Yet still, I quietly reached for the pills. My relief, my sanity.

  Chapter 8

  Kimera

  Maybe it was just me but I was finding this entire night significantly awkward. And we hadn’t even arrived at the restaurant yet.

  Leo had a white Hummer limo waiting outside of the house and he, Naomi, Kareem and I piled inside. Naomi, giddy like a kid in a candy store, immediately began pouring and serving us the champagne that was chilling in an ice bucket.

  “A toast,” she said, lifting her glass. “To new experiences, new love, and new romance. Even if it is all three of us together in one relationship.” Because Leo seemed just as engaged in the pleasantries, I looked to Kareem to see his reaction. I almost laughed aloud to see his confused frown mirroring my own. At least I wasn’t the only one finding all of this weird. I sipped my drink and turned my attention to the window.

  Even behind the tinted glass, I felt freer than I had felt in a long time. It was as if the air out here smelled different, felt different. Like I had been breathing in nothing but lies and deceit in that stuffy mansion for the past few months.

  “What is it?”

  I turned, half-expecting to see Leo addressing me but he seemed to be so enthralled in sucking Naomi’s face, he probably had forgotten I was even present.

  To my surprise, it was Kareem who was acknowledging me. He watched me intently, waiting for my response.

  “What is what?” I asked.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  I sighed, struggling to keep from rolling my eyes. “You know, we don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “This . . .” I gestured between us. “Little conversation thing like we’re on some kind of date. It’s not even like that.”

  “I know.” He paused again, as if he were still waiting for an answer.

  I hesitated a moment longer. A little attention did feel good. It wasn’t like I would be getting it from Leo. We could keep it cordial to pass the time. I still didn’t trust him. And I didn’t have to like him to speak.

  “Just glad to be out of the house,” I admitted.

  He nodded and looked past me to the streets sweeping by. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Me too.”

  “You don’t get it. You can come and go whenever you want. It’s different.”

  “Nah, not really,” Kareem said. His eyes focused on mine and even in the dark, I could see the intensity of his gaze, like he was trying to tell me something without words. But he didn’t elaborate, and because Leo was so close in earshot, I didn’t either. Still, his little comment had left me wondering.

  The limo eased up to the curb of Abacus, a contemporary restaurant with global cuisine from the Mediterranean, South-west, and Pacific Rim. I had never eaten there but Fernando, the chef, had raved so highly about the place and had even made a few of the restaurant’s signature dishes at home, which had been absolutely delicious. Hell, as excited as I was to get out the house, Leo could’ve taken me to eat at McDonald’s and I would have been just as content guzzling down a Happy Meal, elaborate gown and all.

  We were shown inside to a private dining room that had been reserved for our little party of four. The round, spacious booth already had glasses of wine, bread, and what looked like some sushi rolls on the table, and a maître d stood waiting as we slid together onto the cream leather cushions, Leo between me and Naomi, Kareem on my left.

  I’m not sure why that made me uncomfortable. Kareem had been all up and through my space for months, but this, this seemed like something more. Why was his leg bumping up against mine? We had more than enough room in the booth. Was that an accident, or intentional? Was that chemistry I was feeling? I reached for my glass of champagne and knocked it back. Damn, it was going to be a long night.

  Naomi waited until we placed our order before turning to me. “So tell me more about this whole thing. How does all this work? I want to be sure I’m not getting in over my head.” She laughed as if it were a joke but I wanted to tell her how right she was.

  I looked to Leo to address her comment but he too was watching me, expectantly. The hell did he want me to say? The truth?

  “What specifically do you want to know?” I stalled.

  “Well, like, are y’all two legally married?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what about us?” Now she did turn to Leo. “Do we get legally married?”

  “It’s just a ceremony, my world,” Leo explained, gently. “It won’t be a legal marriage but you’ll be my wife in every other sense of the word. We’ll act as husband and wife.”

  “So, basically, I’m just going to play like your wife,” Naomi sat back as if she were deep in thought. “And then, like do we have to share Leo? Get him on certain days? Or do we do stuff together?”

  “A little of both. We do some things separate and some things together.” My mind flipped back to our honeymoon in Jamaica, just me, him, and his two other wives. The thought suddenly had me brightening. “So where are you thinking for the honeymoon?”

  “Fiji,” Naomi blurted, unable to contain her excitement. “If not there, then a cruise. I’ve never been on a cruise. What do you think, sweetie?”

  “Whatever my world wants,” Leo said. It was clear he was eating this up. He probably felt as lonely as I did. I sure as hell hadn’t given him that kind of attention since we first got together, I know Tina hadn’t, nor had Leo’s second wife Lena before she was killed. His only source was Tyree, if that was even still going strong. Because from the looks of his face every time he came from one of their visits, he was even more stressed. So, he certainly seemed in happier spirits than he had been in a long time. I had to play on this opportunity.

  “I’ve never been to Fiji,” I commented absently breaking apart a piece of bread. “And a cruise, I don’t think I’ve been since Leo took me on Royal Caribbean when we first started dating. So I think both of those should be nice.”

  Surprise had Naomi’s eyes rounding. “Oh you’re coming too? Oh that would be so much fun!”

  I smiled into my plate. There, I had planted the seed. So even if Leo hadn’t considered taking me, maybe my little new best friend here could convince him otherwise. Baby steps to getting out of here, but steps nonetheless.

  “Oh yes,” I went on. “We would have a ball. When we went on our honeymoon, Leo’s other wives and I did a lot of girl things together. Spa day, shopping, and just girl time. After all, if we are going to be in this relationship together, I want us to be good friends. I’m sure Leo is going to spend a lot of time with you so he can get to know you better. I want to do that too.” I smiled, proud of myself for laying it on so thick. Naomi’s lips had dropped a degree and she looked to Leo, her eyebrows drawn together.

  “Oh, Leo already knows all there is to know about me,” Naomi grinned and nudged him with her shoulder, as if they had some secret code language. “I’m just a simple chick that likes nice things. And as long as Leo here can give me all of that, I’m happy.”

  They lingered on an intimate kiss. “I can give you all that and more,” Leo whispered his promises against her lips. “You won’t need or want for anything.”

  Except freedom.

  “Sounds like a win-win,” Naomi said. She then looked back at me, cocking her head to the side. The next question she uttered had my heart sinking to my stilettos. “Then why are you trying to leave, Saida?”

  I swallowed hard, my heart damn near beating a hole in my chest. My head was already shaking, even as my mouth struggled to find the words to deflect my confession. I knew I couldn’t trust her. “I didn’t
say that.” And because I felt Leo’s eyes piercing the side of my head, I added, “But speaking of leaving. I do need to use the restroom though, if that’s okay. I’ve been holding it for a minute.”

  I turned away and finally looked at Kareem. Damn, I had forgotten he was there the entire time since he had been so quiet. And again, he was giving me that scrutinizing stare, like he could read every one of my thoughts. I nudged him.

  “Excuse me, Kareem. Do you mind?”

  To my disgust, Kareem first looked to Leo, who obviously gave him the go-ahead behind my head, because a few seconds later he shifted out of the booth to let me out.

  “I’ll come with you,” Naomi said and I stifled a groan. Can I even piss in private now? Naomi bent to kiss Leo and I couldn’t help but notice wistfully how she could just announce what she was going to do, no permission needed. “I’ll miss you. But you know us women have to go to the bathroom in pairs. You can never be too careful.”

  “I agree, my world.” He was talking to Naomi but still looking at me. I averted my eyes by pretending to adjust my dress as I rose to my feet. Had Naomi’s little slip given everything away? I wish I knew what he was thinking but strategically, Leo kept his face completely blank. Still, I felt him looking as we walked off together. Maybe it was a good thing Naomi wanted to join me. That way I could put her in her place. I couldn’t afford for her big-ass naïve mouth to mess up the plans I was trying to organize.

  “Thank you so much for reminding me about the honeymoon, Saida,” she was saying as we swung into the restroom. “I really need to start planning it. Or does Leo plan it?”

  “Why did you tell him that Naomi?”

  She blinked in surprise. “Tell who what?”