Sins & Secrets

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Sins & Secrets Page 7

by Carolyn Chambers Sanders


  “This ain’t funny. They dead. She need yo help Money.”

  “Hold up Red, I’ll take a bullet for you. Shit, you already know that I’ll kill a nigga if they fuck with you. But you asking me to do a lot for ya girl. It ain’t even much like that wit me and her.”

  “Baby, I have to look out for my investment; no, our investment. You know she run the club, and if she goes down, what’s going to happen to our money? She owes me too much. I can’t take a loss like that yet. You helped me get the money, so what about your interest?”

  “Red, I don’t give a damn about that money and you know that. Come on now. I taught you the street game. You already set me up so I can be legit. I don’t need the streets no more. I still hustle ’cause it’s in my blood, and that’s all I know. I love what I do, and I love you too. If you want me to take care of this mess, I will; but not because of the money. Because you asked me to do it for you and you know that I’m yo nigga for life and I love you.”

  He looked toward the hallway and yelled, “Black, get up here now nigga.” He asked me where the cars were. Then, he told me to leave with Amber and not come back for a few days. I took Amber and did what he said.

  “Let’s go Amber. Now!”

  I packed Amber some clothes and headed to my house, but, for some reason, I kept driving.

  I wasn’t nervous. I just needed to think . . . you know, clear my head. I knew that Money would take care of everything. We’d been tight since childhood, but in ninth grade I put him up on some information that saved his butt back then. I told him he didn’t owe me a thing, but he didn’t see things like that.

  It had to be fifteen years ago when I went to the movies with one of the OGs who ran the north side of Tamarind Avenue, Gangster D. That night, after the movies, we went to one of his dope spots to collect some money from one of his runners. He didn’t know me and Money was cool, in fact no one knew. We kept our friendship on the downlow.

  Money always thought that if anyone knew he cared for me they’d use it against him. He used to say that I was the only good thing in his life. He knew I wasn’t like all the other girls.

  Anyway, I heard Gangster D and his people talking about some dude that they were going to set up and kill. They said that the boy they were going to kill wouldn’t know what hit him because they had a deal set up with him the next day.

  On the way to the car, Gangster D said to his boy, “Don’t forget to call that lil bitch Money and make sure the nigga still coming tomorrow.”

  When he said that, my heart dropped. Money was my boy. He ran the streets, but he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. Gangster D was known to shoot a nigga just because he was a few dollars short or if his dope was off by a dime bag. Even if an out-of-town nigga sold from what he called his blocks, he’d mess him up big-time. I knew I had to warn Money as soon as I could.

  Now Gangster D wasn’t the kind of nigga that took no for an answer. When he decided he wanted to screw you, he was going to get it, even if he had to take it. I knew he was like that, so I was already prepared to deal with him. I never planned to go to bed with him. I just wanted a free meal.

  In the middle of dinner I said, “Ohhh, my stomach is crampin’ so bad. Oh damn! It’s hurting.”

  He said, “Let’s go to my place. Once I give you this monster, you’ll feel better.”

  “First, can you take me to the store, because I’m out of pads? My period’s on, and I’m bleeding heavy.”

  “Damn hoe, I wanna get my stick wet, but I ain’t into all that blood shit.”

  “I’m sorry baby, but I didn’t know it was coming.”

  He took me by the store and then home. Before he drove off, he said, “I’ma get that the next time, so you better be ready when you stop bleeding. I’m tired of hearing all those damn excuses.”

  I went into the house and called Big Money.

  “Damn! No answer.”

  I looked for him on every corner, but still didn’t see the nigga. The only other place I thought he’d be was the motel on Forty-fifth Street. I knew he went there when he had one of his hoes with him.

  His car was parked in front of room 121, but I knew Money. He wouldn’t park in front of the room he was in. I knocked on so many doors that the manager threatened to call the police. Just as I was about to leave, I saw a curtain pull back.

  “Money! It’s Red. Money please, my mom is sick. I need you to take me to the hospital.”

  He opened the room door and came out in his draws. I whispered in his ear, “I have something important to tell you. Meet me at yo boy’s house in Boynton. I need to talk to you, it’s very important.”

  Money knew that I don’t play games.

  “Red what’s wrong? Is yo mom okay?”

  “Yeah nigga, but you ain’t. Don’t even tell yo girl in there that it’s me out here.”

  “Don’t worry ’bout her. She so high, she don’t even know where she at.”

  Money left lil mama knocked out in the room and followed me. This was probably the scariest moment in my life, until now. I thought that Gangster D might see me and kill both of us.

  When we got to his boy’s place, I went through the front door and he slipped in through a back door.

  “Look Money, do you have some business with Gangster D tomorrow?”

  “How you know about that?”

  “That don’t matter, just listen.”

  I told him everything I overheard.

  “Are you sure Red? I done some business with that nigga before.”

  “I’m telling you what I heard.”

  “Go home Red, and don’t be hangin’ out for a minute.”

  Later that week, they found Gangster D shot twice in the head with two of his boys. Their bullet-riddled bodies were left in the park in Pleasant City.

  Nobody was really looking for who did it. Gangster D was a crazy nigga. He killed his own brother because he thought he disrespected him by smoking his rocks and not paying for them. Yeah . . . that nigga was as screwed-up as they come.

  Money, on the other hand, was a real nigga. He didn’t let nobody push him around, but he was respectful. He’d kill a nigga if he had to, but he’d let you make it if he thought you got the message.

  After that, Big Money always watched out for me. If I had any problems with anyone, he took care of it. He made all the niggas on the street respect me; he treated me more like a best friend with benefits.

  Amber and I ended up driving all the way to South Beach. We checked in at the Eden Roc Hotel. I had to call the office the next morning to tell them that I’d be in late, and to cancel my morning appointments. They didn’t need to know that I was in Miami. Later, I’d call them back to say that I’d be out for a few days.

  Amber slept for the first three days without saying or eating much. The only time she got up was to use the bathroom. She seemed to be in a state of delayed shock or something. I couldn’t . . . no I didn’t want to imagine what was going through her mind right then. I mean . . . she took two human lives. That had to be tearing her up on the inside.

  By the fourth day, she just started crying out the blue. She cried until she had to throw up. Whatever was taking place in her head was finally starting to show. I ain’t know what to do.

  I just put my arms around her and held her tight.

  “Just let it out. Everything’s gonna be okay. Let it all out now ’cause when we get back to West Palm none of this ever happened. It’s just a dream, a bad dream.”

  She caught me off guard with the first words she had spoken in days.

  “I can’t. I can’t pretend like nothing has happened. I’m a murderer Candice.”

  I had to be firm with her so she would understand what the repercussions would be for the crime she had committed.

  “Damn, Amber, are you crazy? Do you want to be some woman’s hoe in prison? You better learn to pretend like a motherfucka. Now, if anybody ask where you’ve been, tell them with yo new man at the beach. When somebody ask you about Randy
, just say that you ain’t seen the nigga in a while. They’ll think he’s laying up with another one of his women. No one should ask you about Shaniqua, but if they do, just say you don’t really know her. Can you do that Amber? You have to do that if you don’t want to be locked up for the rest of your life.”

  Silence took over the room. Neither Amber nor I spoke for hours. I just sat next to her holding her while she lay her head on my shoulder. I guess she was thinking about what I had just said to her.

  She broke the silence with, “Thank you Candice. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She lay down and continued to cry for the rest of the day.

  The following morning, she woke up with a new attitude and a new spirit. She wanted to get out of the room and do something. She wasn’t crying anymore; actually she looked damn good considering what she had just been through.

  We ate breakfast at the poolside café. We made appointments to get massages and facials. I thought that would be good for her—you know, to help her relieve all the tension that had built up over the last week. I wanted to go back to our normal lives as soon as possible. All this was just way too much, but it was worth it if it meant helping out my friend.

  I finally called Toi and told her that Amber and I drove to Miami to meet with some people about the club.

  “Why ain’t y’all hoes call me? Just because I got a man don’t mean I can’t roll. Speaking of a man, Fred’s been trying to reach you.”

  So much had happened, I’d forgotten all about Fred this past week.

  I didn’t mention anything to Toi about the murders. She’s a little too timid for this kind of situation. She damn near shitted when Randy got beat down. I don’t know what she’d do if she knew Amber killed Randy and Shaniqua. She will never find out from me, it will be our secrets, Amber’s and mine. Oh, I almost forgot about Big Money and Black.

  I told her we’d be back soon and made a mental note to call Fred. I couldn’t call him yet.

  I was still trying to figure some things out myself. When I thought we’d collected ourselves enough, I told Amber to pack her clothes up.

  The drive out here seemed more like a dream. Amber all zoned out and me . . . I wasn’t all together myself. But the ride back was gonna be different, we were refreshed and recharged. As far as I was concerned, nothing had happened.

  But when I really think about the whole ordeal, I can’t lie to y’all. I can’t help but think that I may have made a huge mistake. Yeah, I’m Amber’s friend, but she killed two people. That just makes you think, hunghh? How well do we really know people or how well do you know them when their back’s up against a wall?

  After eight days in Miami, it was time to get back to reality, face the world and deal with what happened the best way we could.

  “Come on girl, let’s go. I want to get back before it gets too dark.” And we were off with those last words.

  NINE

  I play to win

  So don’t cross me

  Because I can

  Be . . .

  low down and dirty

  Three months passed since I’d seen Fred. Although we still talked on the phone almost every day, it was time to get what I needed, some lovin’. I missed him, and I was ready to make love. I guess my body needed to validate the feelings my heart was submitting to. God, I hoped it was worth all the waiting. Just because he screwed Amber like a horny stallion didn’t mean he’d exactly hit my spot. Women, we all have been there before. You hold out, waiting for a mental connection, and the sex turns out to be horrible. But I don’t think it’s gonna be like that with my baby, or will it?

  To get the lovin’ and answers I wanted, Toi and I decided to meet up with Fred and Johnny in Atlanta. Fred’s team was playing Johnny’s team in Atlanta. From Atlanta I was going back to Montreal with Fred for a week, and Toi was staying in Atlanta with Johnny. The way they were groping each other she might not go back home at all.

  I decided to wait until we got to Montreal before we took things to that next level. I wanted to tease him and work up his appetite in Atlanta. It’s a well-known fact that keeping a man’s D hard without letting him cum builds up his stamina. That is, if you can keep the nigga from jacking off in the shower.

  But, I know what y’all really want to know is, “What’s up with Amber?” She was getting better each day. At least she was going back to her normal routine. After we left South Beach, she never mentioned what happened that day. When we first got back, she put her house up for sale. You know, to try and distance herself from the whole ordeal. After the house finally sold, she bought a condominium in Wellington. Ms. Lady even started dating her marketing manager from the club. He was always interested in her, but she didn’t want to push the issue since she was his boss.

  He happened to see her at Grandma’s a month or so ago. One thing led to another and they’d been inseparable since. I was happy for my girl. She finally had a man that appreciated her and who wanted a real relationship.

  In Atlanta, the only time I saw Toi was when we rode to the ballpark. Time seemed to move so fast that we only ate with each other once during the trip. I didn’t stay with Fred in Atlanta. I couldn’t trust myself. Y’all know how it gets when you ain’t had none in a minute. All he had to do was breathe hard enough and my panties would’ve been on the floor.

  To my surprise, Fred didn’t push the issue. Either he respected the hell out of me or had a little freak on the side. I told you he is a good man, but a man nonetheless.

  He had to fly back to Montreal with the team. I hated going through Customs because the lines were always long.

  A limousine picked me up from the airport and took me to a hotel. I thought that I was staying with Fred at his place, but he had other plans.

  Ladies, this could be the one.

  After I checked into the hotel, I sat at the bar to have a drink. I drank a couple of Grand Marniers mixed with Baileys. I was feeling pretty good and warm inside. I decided to go to my room and get ready for my nigga’s big sausage.

  When I walked into the room, I poured me a glass of red wine. No . . . haters, I’m not a drunk. I just wanted to be fully relaxed. It’s been a minute since somebody’s hit this. And damn, I needed to loosen my muscles. Fred’s stick was unbelievably thick. Fellas, forget about that “size don’t matter” bull. The bigger the mutha, the better.

  I had to be good and damp before Fred’s manhood got in me. I even brought some KY Jelly, just in case. Ya girl don’t need her cat all cut up, swollen, and sore.

  I could feel his moist tongue on my clit; those soft lips teasing my inner thigh. I was getting wet just thinking about it.

  Here’s another note for the men: Take the time to get the coochie wet. It may feel the same to you, but a woman will give you a lot more if she’s into it. A fat thang ramming in and out of a dry hole ain’t no sane woman’s idea of a good time. That’s enough talking with y’all, let me get back to getting ready.

  I put on Betty’s CD, lit some candles, poured me another glass of wine, turned the lights off, and then took a long bubble bath.

  “Tonight’s the night that Fred makes me his woman.”

  Betty Wright, I know exactly what you meant girl.

  I couldn’t wait for Fred to get there. Before I knew it, I found myself rubbing my clit, but I stopped because I wanted the real thing tonight.

  Fred had to go to the park to get his car and luggage, then he would be right over. He said that he wanted to hold me and make love to me all night long. I was going to make sure that he did just that. After all my hard work, it was time to do what needed to be done.

  As soon as I got out the tub, he knocked on the door.

  “Here I come lover.”

  I put on a quick splash of my sweet-smelling body spray, and slipped on a sexy body dress with a pair of high-heel stilettos. We were about to get our freak on proper like.

  I walk to the door.

  “I’ve been waiting for . . .”

  When I opened
the door I was greeted by a woman, instead of Fred. She was around five feet four inches, very pale and kinda chubby.

  “Are you waiting on Fred?” she said with tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Yes I am, and who are you?”

  “I’m his wife.”

  The only thing that was missing from this moment was that “Dum Dunna Dun” music from those drama movies. And the only thing I could think of at this moment was “Why me?” It just seems like a girl can’t win for losing.

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a family picture with Fred, his wife, two boys around eleven and nine, and a little girl.

  Not only does this trifling lying nigga have a wife, he has children. I can’t hate on him for wanting to do his little freaky thing, but I couldn’t believe he’d lie and pretend like he was riding solo. Girl, a nigga ain’t ’bout a dime and you girl almost fell for the okydote. Now I understand why I am in a hotel room and not at his house. Damn, I’m glad I did not take him to paradise.

  I’d never thought he was married, but, then again, I never asked. I just assumed, with all the time we spent together, that there was no one serious in his life. I guess that old saying about assuming stuff is true.

  “I am so sorry. He never told me he was married.”

  She stood there with tears in her eyes.

  “He always does this to me, but it was different with you. He even called you from the house when I was home. He didn’t know I was listening. I think he might be in love with you.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t mess around with married men. If I’d known he was married it never would have gone this far. You don’t have to worry about me interfering in your marriage.”

  She started telling me about all of the stuff he was doing, to make sure I didn’t want to see him again. Believe me, she did not have to convince me to leave her husband alone. I was out of there. Good thing I didn’t unpack.

  Y’all probably think I got exactly what I deserved. But what did I ever do? I know I’m no angel, but I haven’t done anybody like this. This is messed up all around.

  On my way to the airport, I called for a flight back to West Palm Beach. If I wanted to leave Montreal tonight, I had to fly to Philadelphia to change planes in Atlanta. I had to stay overnight there because I knew I would miss the connecting flight.

 

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