by T. Styles
“I need a big favor,” she told me. “And you owe me one.”
I remember being so angry with her for intruding on my life and my time. But what could I do? When I looked over at my husband’s face in my mind it was all worth it.
So I took down the address while still in church. A few members of the congregation rolled their eyes at me as I accepted the phone call.
Later that day, with my church clothes still on, I met her friend. And not only did her friend have a package; he wanted some money to give it to me. I ended up exchanging five hundred dollars for some heroin for my sister. My skin was hot to the touch. I was so fired up that instead of leaving it in her room like she asked, I waited four hours for her to return home.
The moment she walked into the door I was about to beat her ass until she reminded me about Bradley’s case again. She had me right where she wanted me. She took the pack from me and right when I was about to leave she made me stay and watch her get high. I don’t think there are words to describe how I felt about my sister at that point.
After that night she did the same shit six more times the following week. And each time I had to exchange money to buy drugs. I could’ve gotten her the shit for free since that’s what I did for a living. But it wasn’t about that with Grainger. She wanted to see me at her command.
And now here I was, about to pay $15,000 for some new teeth that she would ruin anyway. I knew she had the money but she wanted to spend mine.
“Well your new teeth will be ready in two weeks,” the dentist smiled at Grainger. “Sit tight. I’ll be back in a minute with some information you need to know before they’re installed.”
“Thanks,” Grainger grinned. When he left she sat up on the dentist’s counter and looked down at me. “Did I tell you I’m getting off heroin? I’m checking myself in and everything tomorrow.”
“Good for you,” I said with an attitude.
“Why you looking all crazy?” Grainger continued. “These teeth aren’t just for me. They’re for you too.”
“And how’s that?”
“Because you don’t have to worry about your husband going back to jail once they’re put in. With the teeth, along with any future money I require, I’m not going to testify against Bradley. So cheer up, bitch,” she removed a nail file from her purse and cleaned under her nails. “You’re bringing me down.” A cakey dirt ball flew from under her nail and landed on my pants.
I was enraged. It was so gross.
I wanted to be careful about how I talked to Grainger at that moment. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and spend an hour begging her not to testify against my husband if she didn’t like what I said. I felt like I was walking on eggshells.
I was about to dust the dirt from her nails off of my pants when she said, “Don’t do that.”
I looked up at her.
“I like the dirt right there.”
Frustrated, I allowed it to remain. “Grainger,” I said with tears rolling down my eyes. “Are you going to testify against Bradley or not?” I paused and wiped my face. “I gotta know. This shit is driving me crazy.”
“I just told you I wouldn’t. How come we can’t spend a little sisterly time together without all the questions? How come whenever you see me we talking about Bradley? Huh? What about me and you?”
“I want it to be a me and you. I want it so badly but I have to know if I’m gonna have a husband in a few weeks and if Jasmine is gonna have a father. Tell me, Grainger. That’s why I keep asking.”
“The teeth are going to be nice aren’t they?” she asked skipping the subject. She hopped off of the counter and looked at her face in the mirror. “They’re going to be great. You think once I put them in,” she turned around to face me, “Bradley will like them?”
“What?” I frowned.
“What you talking about Bradley for?”
She stepped up to me and bent down. “Do you think Bradley will like my new teeth?” she asked slowly. “It’s not rocket science, Denim. Either he will love them or he won’t. Only you know the answer.”
“Are you really asking me if my husband will like something on your body?”
She laughed. “You took him from me remember?” she yelled. “You took him from me and I never forgave you for it so technically he’s ours. I’m supposed to have the life you’re living, not you. You’re sitting over there with five hundred dollar shoes on your feet and a fifteen thousand dollar purse on your arm. That’s my life you living, bitch! Not yours!”
“Are you gonna testify against Bradley,” I asked huffing and puffing. I was losing my patience quickly.
“Every time he tastes your pussy, or moves inside of your body, I’m the one he’s comparing you to. Me,” she yelled. “And it kills you doesn’t it?”
“Are you gonna testify against my husband or not, Grainger,” I repeated now less patient.
“I hate you,” she continued ignoring me. “I fucking hate you for everything you’ve done to me!”
I held my head down. There was no use in talking to her and I finally got it. I exhaled and took in a few quick breaths. Grainger’s sole purpose in life was to hurt me. It wasn’t about her testifying against Bradley. It was about how much she could control me and how much she could make me do.
If Bradley knew she was blackmailing me to keep him out of jail he’d probably divorce me. He told me right after the incident that I couldn’t let her see me grovel and that’s exactly what I was doing.
I grabbed my Celine bag off the floor stood up and looked my sister directly in her eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you when I moved on with Bradley. I really am.”
“No you’re not,” she pouted.
“I really mean it, Grainger,” I said wiping the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry that I created a life with a man you obviously loved. And I battle almost every day with that fact. But he’s my husband now and you’re going to either have to respect it or stay out of my life. You have my sympathy. But there is something you will never, ever have. And that’s my husband.” I looked deeper into her eyes. “Do you hear me? You will never have him. I love him too much. And if you come in the way of that I will hurt you.”
Grainger cried hysterically while yelling, “Fuck you,” to my face. I waited until she simmered down to restate my point. I wanted to make sure she understood.
“Do you hear me? I will murder you, Grainger, and will have no qualms about it.”
I walked around her and toward the door. “Oh, and by the way, pay for your own fucking teeth. I’m done being your flunky.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
RACE
This had to be the ugliest shit I have ever made and I loved it. It was for an independent movie company that specializes in horror films. I dipped my paintbrush into the small, white cylinder on the table containing paint remover. I wiped away some of the extra black paint around the eyes on the mask. When I was done I smiled. I’d created a lot of scary shit in my lifetime but this had to be my best work. It looked so real.
Ever since word had gotten around in the industry that I could make anything from full body prosthetics to real life silicone masks I got no less than fifty requests a week. From transgender women wanting silicone body molds to movie execs, I was always working. I didn’t need the money but it was honestly the only thing that kept me sane.
Since I’d been working on this mask for the past five days, and it was finally dry, I put it on. I walked over to the mirror in front of me and looked at myself. If it wasn’t for the white tank top I was wearing with my cleavage spilling out, you wouldn’t know it was me.
The mask was of an African American man who had been dragged down the street on the side of his face. The left side of the mask showed pink flesh from the skin being rubbed off and one of his eyes hung out of the socket.
“You know you’re supposed to lock this door,” Ramirez said walking up behind me. He didn’t see my face yet. “So we don’t bother you when you’re working.”
“I know but I forgot,” I responded wondering what he wanted. I didn’t turn around right away because I decided to scare him.
“How come I always find you down here?” Ramirez said to me.
When I turned around and he saw the mask he looked like he almost jumped out of his skin. He bumped up against the doorframe trying to get out. I took it off and laughed.
“It’s just me, baby. Damn. Why you tripping?”
He held onto his heart. “What the fuck is up with you?” He breathed heavily. “How the fuck can you do this shit all day? Something must be wrong with your ass.”
I put the mask on my work desk next to the cylinder. “It’s my passion.”
“Well as rich as you are you need to find another one. Something that doesn’t make you seem so deranged.”
“I’m deranged because I like to make horror masks?”
Silence.
I rolled my eyes. I guess his answer was yes. “You knew how much I loved this shit when you married me, Ram.” I grabbed a towel on the desk and wiped the silicone powder off my hands. “Anyway what you doing down here? You only come to the basement when you want something important.” I threw the towel on the table.
“Yeah, and now I remember why I stopped coming down this bitch. You keep trying to scare the shit out of me with your work.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I came down here to see where you’ve been. I haven’t seen you since you left me and Carey in bed this morning.” He looked at his watch. “And now it’s five p.m. I‘ve been calling you all day on your cell. Why haven’t you answered the phone?”
“I been busy.”
“I know that, Race. But you know I can’t stay away from you too long,” he said seductively.
“So what, Carey not up there no more to keep you company?”
He stepped back and looked at me sideways. “I know you not coming at me about her like it’s a problem now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“For starters I might have brought her into our relationship but when you thought I was dead you kept her around,” he said pointing at me. “If anything I would think you’d be okay that I was still with it.”
“I know. You’re right.”
“If you know then what’s the problem?” He sat on the black leather sofa in my studio and I walked to the small refrigerator and grabbed two beers. I walked over to him and handed him one.
“I guess I’m confused.” I popped the cap from my beer and took a large gulp.
“Well talk to me then, Race. This shit ain’t for us.”
“Are you happy with the way things are going?” I asked sitting next to him. “With me, you and Carey?”
“I’m having a good time. But I’ma tell you the truth; I’m happier when I see the smile on your face when she walks into the room than I am fucking another bitch. Or how you look into her eyes when we all make love. I can see she makes you feel good so I feel good too.”
I didn’t realize he was so perceptive. Whenever the three of us were together I assumed it was all about the sex.
“You are feeling her right, baby?” he asked me. “Or did I miss something?”
“I think so. But I’m so confused.”
He put his beer down on the floor and reached for me. “Come sit on my lap.”
“I’m not doing that shit right now, Ramirez.” I took another sip of my beer. “It’s dumb.” I burped. “Anyway we talking about some real shit.”
He frowned and seemed disappointed. “Since I’ve been back that’s the only thing that changed about you and I’m not gonna lie, I really miss it.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You not submissive anymore, Race. Sometimes you are but it’s different. Back in the day I couldn’t pull you out of my lap. Now I gotta get you drunk or call on Carey just to get you to be my wife again. The one who needed me to protect her. Remember? I don’t give you shit about running the drug operation because I don’t care about things like that. I don’t say anything when you tell me you not cooking even though I love your meals. But you do make me feel like less of a man when you don’t let me hold you like I want to.”
“That’s not fair, Ramirez. You know you’ll always be my man.”
“I’m your husband, not your man. Now get over here.”
He reached out for me again. I placed my beer on the floor and like he wanted I crawled into his lap and placed my nose against his neck. I inhaled deeply and could smell the cologne and soap on his skin. My pussy jumped and I shivered. He was definitely a weakness for me.
“There my baby go right there,” he said softly. “I can feel your body warming up.” He kissed me. “Just like I like it.”
I exhaled and raised my head to look into his eyes. “Ramirez, are we doing the right thing by having her in our home? In our lives? Do you ever wonder if maybe we moved too fast?”
“Is that how you feel?”
I looked into his eyes. “Sometimes.”
“Then she’s gone.”
My eyebrows rose. “Are you serious?”
“What’s your name?”
“Race,” I responded in a confused tone.
“Naw, what’s your mothafuckin’ full name?”
I smiled knowing where he was going with it. “Race Kennedy.”
“Then let it be done.”
He grabbed his phone and texted somebody. A few minutes later Carey came strolling down the stairs. He must’ve texted her. She wore a big smile on her pretty face and she was standing in the middle of the floor. She didn’t say a word but I could tell she was ready to serve.
“Yes,” she smiled with a lustful look in her eyes. “How can I help you two?”
She smelled of weed and liquor. She must’ve been upstairs getting high with Denim. That was their special time together.
I looked at Ram waiting for him to answer her. This was his performance not mine so I wasn’t sure where he was going with it.
“You gotta pack your shit and move back to your own crib, shawty,” Ramirez said to her. “I want you gone today. Don’t let the nighttime catch you.”
Her jaw dropped and tears rolled down her eyes. I leaned in because I hadn’t expected him to go so hard. He acted like he didn’t even know her, like she was a bum broad off the street. I felt bad for Carey.
I’m a thorough bitch but it was difficult for me to look at her so I turned my head. Instead I focused on the mask I’d taken off moments earlier sitting on the table. It was way prettier than this scene right now.
Carey started sobbing. I think she was talking too but I didn’t understand what she was saying.
“Come here,” Ramirez said to her in a cool and calm manner. He reminded me of one of them 1970s pimps.
Carey dropped to her knees right where we sat. We looked down on her as if we were playing God with her life. Maybe we were.
“What did I do?” she cried. “Tell me. Is it because I was beefing with Bambi? During the meeting?”
“Stop crying,” he said softly. “Now I’m feeling you, we both are, but this is my wife. And we’ve been moving so fast that we haven’t had a chance to see who we are without you in the picture.”
Carey looked at me and touched my hand. “Race, aren’t you happy with me anymore? If you not what can I do to apologize?” she wiped the tears away. “And prove how much I love you? I’m willing to do anything.”
I looked into her eyes. At one point I was her rock. I was her soldier. I provided everything she needed. And now here I was, sitting in my husband’s lap feeling weak. I was starting to wonder if this wasn’t what Ramirez wanted all along. Maybe the plan was always to give me too much of a fun thing so that my attention could be back on my marriage. If it was his plan, it definitely worked.
I looked down at her. “You heard my husband. It’s time for you to bounce.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BAMBI
I was in Tyson’s Corner, a luxurious shopping mall in Virginia buying my twin
boys anything they wanted. Although they usually went shopping on their own, this time I told them I wanted to be there to make sure they bought everything they desired for college. Truthfully, I just wanted to spend quality time with them.
Ever since Bunny had her friend Therese send that letter to Melo and Noah, Noah had been giving me the blues. The letter implicated me in Bunny’s death if something happened to her. Noah hated me for it and he never forgave me, even though I lied and said I wasn’t involved. If it wasn’t for Melo’s love and grace I think I’d be a wreck now.
And to top it all off, Kevin had been acting funny lately. I didn’t know if he was closing in on me being the one who killed his aunt or if he was still salty that Mitch didn’t wanna do business with him directly. Whatever his thing was he was taking it out on me and it was weird. I couldn’t remember the last time we fucked, and we used to do it every day. Sometimes I wondered if the scars on my face changed his mind about me.
“Okay, boys, since you got everything you wanted, what do you say we grab something to eat before we go home,” I said to them at the Gucci counter where they just hit me up for $6,500.
“If the gospel be told, I really want to go home,” Noah said with an attitude. I hated when he said that gospel shit. “I got plans tonight.”
“So you had time for me to spend some paper on you but no time to talk?”
He laughed. “Come on, ma. You and me both know money ain’t a thing in this family. I mean ain’t that why you threw us in a boarding school? So don’t act like you looking out. It’s pennies to you.”
Embarrassed I looked over at the cashier who looked away. “How come whenever I wanna spend time with you, you hit me with that gospel shit?” I asked Noah. “Yes, I know money is available but it’s not easy either. I work hard for this shit. And if you truthfully understood gospel you’d know that it’s wrong how you treating your mother.”
“I wonder what the gospel says about aunts. Since that letter aunt Therese gave us said you had something to do with killing aunt Bunny,” he responded.