She looked biracial–maybe mixed with black and Spanish or Filipino. Her hair was shoulder-length and brown. Her eyes were feline-shaped and hazel. Her nose was thin with a slight ball at the tip. Her lips were thin up top, but full on the bottom. Amazonian in height at about five-eleven, I put her at about 160 pounds, with a set of natural thirty-eight Ds that stood high in a red tank top she had on. Her brother-in-law must have been a breast man.
I said, “And you are?”
She flashed a weird smile and extended a hand. “I’m Shante Hunt.”
I didn’t have an obsessive-compulsive disorder, but I didn’t like to shake people’s hands unless I had to. She was there to see me, so I didn’t take it. I motioned to the empty seat on the other side of the square table. “Have a seat, Shante.”
Shante looked at me momentarily and then pulled her hand back, pulled the chair out, and sat down.
I took another sip of my latte.
Shante said, “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
A group of teenagers sitting on the floor to our the left burst out in laughter. Shante looked in their direction, and then looked at the other patrons around us.
I said, “Is something wrong?”
She frowned a bit, and with the volume of her voice dropping slightly, said, “Is . . .” She paused as the teenagers broke out in laughter again. “Is there someplace else that we could talk? Someplace more . . . private?”
I sipped my latte again and looked over at the teens and then back to Shante. “They’re talking about their English teacher and his outburst in class when the boy in the blue T-shirt farted out loud during a test. The couple behind us are talking about their son and new girlfriend. Neither one of them likes her. The two women sitting behind you are talking about their girlfriend who’s not with them. The girlfriend is having an affair with her husband’s coworker and swears she’s in love. They know better and are hoping the friend wakes up before it’s too late. The employees behind the counter are talking about the classes they’re taking.”
I paused. Sipped my latte. Looked at Shante.
“No one here cares about what you and I are talking about. This is private.”
Shante cleared her throat. “OK.”
“So how can I help you, Shante?”
Shante cleared her throat again. “I assume you know why I’m here.”
“If you mean about you wanting to set up your brother-in-law, then yes. I do.”
Shante nodded. “Well, as I explained to your associate, I heard that you have the, uh, . . . ability to help people with marital problems.”
I closed my eyes a bit. I’d gotten all of the information I needed from Marlene, but I asked her anyway. “And where exactly did you get this information from?”
“You helped a friend of a friend of mine about a year ago with her situation. Kelsey Winters.”
Kelsey Winters.
A client I’d had before Kyra.
She was one of the wives who never had any intention of leaving her unfaithful husband or the six-figure income he brought home yearly. She just wanted something to hold over him so that she could do whatever the hell she wanted. I provided her with a videotape of her husband eating my pussy.
Kelsey lives it up now and her husband doesn’t say shit.
“My friend told me what you’d done for Kelsey. She said that you could take care of this issue for me.”
I drank some more of my latte. It was getting tepid. Hot drinks served in cheap cups designed to allow your drinks to go cold faster, which made you get up and spend more money on another hot drink. It was a scam that many cafés participated in. I pushed my half-empty latte to the side. I wasn’t getting another cup.
“So why do you want to have your brother-in-law trapped?”
Shante looked around at the people who didn’t give a shit about our conversation and then leaned forward. “My brother-in-law . . . He’s an asshole. I’ve never liked him. Not when my sister introduced me to him two years ago. Not one year ago when they got married. And definitely not six months ago when he came on to me.”
I stared at her but didn’t say anything.
“My sister and I are eighteen months apart. We have different styles, but we’ve always been extremely close. Growing up, when one of us got hurt, the other knew it. When my sister was thirteen years old, she fell off of her bike and broke her right arm. I was at the store with my father when my left arm started to hurt me so bad that I began to scream and cry. Minutes after the pain started, my mother called my father to tell him what had happened to my sister. That’s how things were between my sister and me growing up. You would have thought we were twins.
“Of course we had our share of arguments and cat fights, but nothing was ever that serious. Honestly, I didn’t think that anything could have ever come between us. Men, women, children, money . . . nothing. But then she met Ryan. Nothing’s been the same since then.”
Shante paused as the teenagers beside us broke out in laughter again, and then continued.
“I just knew that Ryan was a piece of shit the moment she introduced me to him. I wasn’t fooled by his good looks, his toned body, or his charm. I saw past all of that. I saw in his eyes that he was a jerk. I saw it in his smile. He was a fake. A typical man incapable of having any respect for women.”
“Did you say anything to your sister?”
Shante shook her head, frowned, and sighed. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Sam’s never really had any luck with men. She’s chosen great, lifelong friends who compliment the person she is, but she’s never been that fortunate with the men she’s chosen. For some reason, she’s always gravitated toward assholes. Assholes who were abusive. Assholes who liked to control everything she did. Assholes who couldn’t keep their zippers closed. Assholes like Ryan.”
She paused and drummed her fingers on the tabletop.
I watched her. She had a strong don’t-fuck-with-me spirit that I liked. I didn’t know anything about her, or anything about the men she’d ever been involved with, but it was obvious that she would never be a woman who needed my services for herself.
“I’m going to get a caramel macchiato. Do you want anything?”
I shook my head.
She got up and went to the counter. Three minutes later, she was back with her macchiato.
She sat down. “I love these,” she said, taking a sip.
I sat back in my chair with my arms folded across my chest. “So Ryan’s an asshole,” I said.
Shante took another sip, wrapped her fingers around the cup, and nodded. “I knew she was heading toward trouble when she said yes to his fucking marriage proposal, which, by the way, was done in front of our entire family. For a full year I watched that smug son-of-a-bitch pull the wool over Sam’s eyes as well as the rest of the family. It was a joke. Everyone was blind to him. Blinded by his looks, the money he made, the bullshit personality. Why I was the only one who knew he was full of shit, I don’t know. But I knew.”
“Yet you didn’t say anything.”
Shante sighed. “Like I said, the men Sam has been with . . . they’ve all been such wastes. Without fail, each and every one of them has broken her heart in one way or another. Before Ryan, she’d been living like a nun. She didn’t go out, she wouldn’t date, and she wouldn’t even make an attempt to speak to a man. I swear she was heading straight to the monastery, or into the arms of another woman. But then one day she came over to my apartment and she had the biggest smile on her face.
“That’s one thing about Sam. She always had a smile on her face. But as she had bad luck with the men, she smiled less and less, until it finally got to the point where I hardly ever saw her smile anymore.
But that day she came over . . .”
Shante paused and flashed a smile of her own.
“She told me all about Ryan. Where and how she met him. How she couldn’t wait for me to meet him. For my parents to meet him. She was so f
reaking happy. I was too. It was like finally I could have my sister back. But then I met that piece of shit.”
“Again you didn’t say anything.”
“I wanted to, Lisette. Shit, I really did. I knew he was a playa, but Sam was her old self with him in her life, and as badly as I wanted to tell her that I didn’t like or trust him, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. After all of the heartache she’d suffered, I just couldn’t and wouldn’t be the one to bring hurt into her life again.”
“So you let your sister date a man you knew would disrespect her?”
Shante frowned. “Yes.”
“And then you let her marry him.”
A deeper frown. “Yes.”
“And now she’s not speaking to you.”
Shante nodded.
“Guess you should have said something.”
Shante sighed. “I just figured if she was happy dealing with him and his shit, then fine. So be it. It was her life. I mean, she wouldn’t be the first woman to stay married to a man who didn’t give her the respect that she deserved, right? You would have done the same for your sister.”
I shook my head. “No, I wouldn’t have.”
Shante drummed her fingers on the tabletop again, and then lifted her cup to swallow some more of her macchiato, but then put it back down before the Styrofoam hit her lips.
“Six months ago that ass came on to me. We were at my parents’ annual barbecue. I had to use the bathroom. All the ones downstairs were occupied, so I went to use the one upstairs. He was just coming out of that bathroom when I got there. I’d never felt comfortable around him. Always felt like he was looking at me like a piece of meat. Up until that point, looking was all he’d ever done. But with no one around, he grabbed my ass and suggested that we sneak into the bathroom together.
“His advance caught me by complete surprise, and it actually took me a few seconds to grasp what had just happened. After the shock wore off though, I went off on him. Called him all kinds of names, told him that if he ever touched me again I was going to fuck him up and then tell Sam.”
“And what did he do?”
“He laughed. Then he said that he knew I always wanted him and that it could happen. That he would never say a word to anyone. You know . . .” She stopped talking again as the teenagers burst out in laughter again. When they quieted down, she continued. “You know, had he only tried it one time, I might have let it go. But he tried it again on two separate occasions after that. It’s one thing to disrespect my sister, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you get away with disrespecting me like that.”
“So you finally told Sam.”
“Yes. I love my sister, Lisette, but I’ll be honest . . . I told her about Ryan’s advances because I wanted her to go off on his sorry ass.”
“But she didn’t.”
Shante let out an angry exhale. “No. That bitch actually accused me of making everything up, saying how I was just jealous of her, and that I was telling her those things hoping she would leave Ryan so that I could have him.”
Shante stopped speaking and grabbed her cup. She didn’t drink anything this time. She just held on to it.
I watched her. Studied the anger in her eyes as she looked at me. Her sister’s actions had really pissed her off. I don’t know why though. It was a typical reaction.
I said, “You don’t want me to set him up for Sam, do you?”
“I love my sister, Lisette.”
“I don’t doubt that you do, but, as I said, this isn’t about her.”
“Does my answer determine whether you’ll do it?”
I looked at her.
She looked back at me with nervous, tense anticipation in her eyes.
I said, “I’ve only ever turned down one client before.”
She clenched her jaw. “Why? Wasn’t her husband guilty?”
“Her husband was pathetic, but she was a selfish, greedy bitch who didn’t deserve my help.”
As I said that, Shante’s cup caved in. Some of her macchiato spilled over her hand and onto the table. “Shit.” She grabbed a couple of napkins she had and wiped her hand and then on the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d been holding it that hard. None of it spilled on you, did it?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Good.” She finished cleaning up and then looked at me. For some reason, her eyes seemed darker than before. She said, “So how did the woman take it when you told her no?”
I thought about Kyra. Thought about the shit she’d had done to me. Thought about the man in black she’d had pay me a visit. In the midst of a thunderstorm, he’d given me regards from Kyra. Regards that Marlene helped me overcome. I said, “Not very well.”
Shante nodded. “And is she still with her husband now? Or did she find a way to get his money?”
Again, thoughts of Kyra ran through my mind. On the floor of a condominium at The Exchange at 25 Broad Street. Her body riddled with pain, she was bleeding, moaning. She’d just had incredible sex. Sex that she’d been told she would never forget. A fat man named Jim had pulled me out of the thunderstorm the night I received Kyra’s regards. In the condominium I gave Kyra my own regards in return. She didn’t have a fat man to help pull her out of anything.
I looked at Shante as she watched me, waiting for my response. I said, “She got everything she deserved.”
Shante stared at me, her jaw tight, her gaze unflinching. She said, “I want to get what I deserve.”
“Are you willing to pay?”
“Whatever it takes.”
9
“My services aren’t cheap.”
“I’ve already told your associate that money isn’t an object for me. I’ll pay whatever it costs to get the job done.”
“All because you love your sister.” She still hadn’t answered my question from before. It wasn’t an answer that I really needed. I just wanted her to admit the truth.
Shante bit down on her lip, dropped her chin to her chest, and then looked back up at me, her expression colder, her eyes a bit darker. “Ryan thinks he’s God’s gift to women. I hate people like that. People who think they can do and get whatever they want without regard to other people’s feelings. People like that . . . people like Ryan . . . they need to be brought back down to earth. They need to understand that there’s a consequence for everything they do.”
I stared at Shante. Stared at her eyes. Eyes filled with anger. Her fingers were around her cup again. Looked like she was going to make it spill again.
People like that.
I was a person like that.
I did and got what I wanted.
She hated her brother-in-law. She hated me too. I could see it in those eyes. She hated me, but she needed me, because only a person like that could get the job done.
I said, “Seventy-five thousand. That’s what it’s going to take.”
“And you can guarantee that you can do this?”
“You wouldn’t be sitting here if you didn’t already know that answer.”
Shante nodded. “True.”
“Have you thought about how you want this done?”
“I want my sister to see just how much Ryan loves her. I want her to see just how jealous of her I am. Bitch. I can’t believe she wouldn’t take me at my word.”
Shante paused and grabbed a clean napkin and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
“I . . . I’m sorry,” she said, tears flowing slowly. “I don’t mean to break down like this. I just love my sister. I’ve watched out for her my whole life. Hell, I practically raised her. I’ve always wanted nothing but the best for her. How she could ever think that I’d stoop to doing something so low as to make up a story about Ryan coming on to me just so that I could have him for myself, really hurts.”
“So now you’re looking for a little payback.”
Shante shook her head. “No.”
I said, “Bullshit. She chose him over you. Don’t tell me you don’t want her to hurt in any wa
y.”
“I . . . I love my sister.”
“Why are you telling me that again?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“I never called you a liar.”
“I . . . I–”
“She chose him over you,” I stressed again. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting her to hurt a little.”
Shante frowned. “I shouldn’t want that.”
“But you do. Sam should have trusted you enough to believe you, because you raised her . . . gave up your free time for her . . . probably sacrificed relationships to ensure her happiness, without expecting, wanting, or asking for anything in return.”
Shante looked at me, her eyes telling me that I was right. She was pissed. Pissed at her brother-in-law for his arrogance and his false endearments. Pissed at her sister for not valuing all that she’d done.
“This is about you, Shante. This is about payback that you are looking for.”
Shante bit down on her bottom lip. Squeezed the cup just a little harder. Her eyes on mine, she said, “Payback. Does that make me a bad person?”
I shook my head. “It makes you human.”
Shante nodded.
“Are you ready to pay half now?”
10
She was there!
Rebecca Stantin couldn’t believe her luck. Lisette was there in the same place, at the same time. There was no denying it. It was fate. She’d just placed the call to begin her way on the new path she’d chosen, and now she and Lisette were feet apart.
Rebecca’s heart beat rapidly. Her right leg bounced like a jackhammer with nervous excitement as she stared at the woman who’d changed her life completely. For $50,000, she’d set up her husband, Bruce. Or, as the people at St. Mark’s Baptist Church called him, Pastor Stantin. The good pastor was a charismatic man born with ruggedly handsome good looks and the ability to deliver the Word of God as though the good Lord Himself had delivered the speech to him with instructions to recite His words, word for word.
When Pastor Stantin spoke, he mesmerized, and only when his sermons were over did he release you. He was amazing. And for the longest time, he’d been the most eligible and wanted man in Winston Salem, North Carolina, until Rebecca, who he’d met after service one day, exchanged vows with him on a perfect Saturday afternoon in the middle of fall.
Eye for an Eye Page 4