Love Me Deadly

by Linda Verji

  Erica chuckled as she let her suitcase drop to the floor. “If I knew you’d be so happy to see me I would’ve come back earlier.”

  Propping a hand on her waist and sweeping her lengthy hair to her back, Kendra narrowed her eyes. “Tell me you saved me a pair of those shoes you posted on Facebook.”

  Erica sucked her teeth in mock irritation. “I knew all that excitement wasn’t innocent.”

  “C’mon, did you sell them all?” Kendra insisted. Like Reggie, she was a deep dark coffee complexion with a wide white smile that gave dentists orgasms. What Erica wouldn’t have given for that smile – and that body. Kendra carried her six foot one height well. With her pert breasts, tiny waist and long legs, she could’ve been a model.

  “You know I got you.” Erica put her out of her misery. “I saved you a-” Her words ground to a halt when the kitchen door opened and Brooklyn came out.

  This Brooklyn was a far cry from the girl Erica had met two and a half years ago. Two years ago, she was almost the same height as Erica, a shade darker than Kendra and weighed a couple more pounds than either of them. Now, the only thing that was the same was her height. Her skin was a sallow shade of yellow and she was about the same weight as Erica, albeit less curvy.

  On seeing her, Erica’s first thought was ‘Excuse me? This bitch is still here?’ Anger followed swiftly.

  “What’s she doing here?” Erica bit out through her gritted teeth and though the words were for Kendra, her eyes were on Brooklyn. The nerve.

  Brooklyn stood motionless at the door, her arms wrapped around her torso and staring at Erica with wide frightened eyes.

  Erica repeated, “What’s she doing here?”

  “Ri.” Kendra’s voice was soothing as she said, “Why don’t you sit down so we can talk about it.”

  Talk about what? The facts were these, Erica had given Brooklyn a place to stay and a job, and the tramp had repaid her by fucking her fiancé. There was nothing to talk about.

  Sit down why? So Kendra could convince her to forgive Brooklyn?

  Kendra was even more of a bleeding heart than Erica, and Brooklyn had likely given her some sob-story excusing her part in the whole debacle. Kendra confirmed it when she said, “Quin took advantage of her.”

  Erica shot Brooklyn and a sneer. “Nah, that’s bullshit.”

  Being twenty-one was no excuse for being stupid and it was time for the woman to pay the piper. Blood pounding through her in fast hot gushes and flooding her senses with anger, Erica bent down to unclip the straps of her kitten heels. Perhaps sensing the volcano brewing underneath Erica’s precise movements, Brooklyn darted into the kitchen and closed the door behind her.

  “Ri, she’s really sorry,” Kendra tried again.

  Ignoring her, Erica made her way for Brooklyn’s room. If she didn’t know that it wasn’t, Erica would’ve thought that this was her own room. Its décor was an eerie duplicate of hers. A white queen-sized bed dominated the room, complimented by a white duvet flowered in purple and pillows encased in purple fabric to match the pastel purple drapes.

  “Quin can be really flirty,” Kendra who’d followed Erica into the room explained, “and you know how insecure Brooklyn is.”

  Erica guffawed under her breath as she opened the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony letting the thick and cold night air. She was through with Brooklyn’s weight issues, skin issues and man issues. Like a rubber band, her kindness had snapped back and hit her in her face. She would not be suckered into feeling sorry for the girl again.

  “Besides she adores you…” Kendra blubbered on. Erica tuned her out as she walked to the closet. She removed hangers with clothes still hanging from them. Her forehead furrowed as she realized that half the clothes were hers or identical to pieces she had. She considered sorting through the clothes then decided that their having touched Brooklyn’s body meant adios to them. Grabbing an armful, she crossed the room, stepped out to the balcony and dropped them over the railing. Brooklyn’s clothes waved in the wind as they fell to the flowerbed below.

  “You can’t do this, Ri,” Kendra pleaded when Erica came back into the bedroom.

  “Watch me.”

  “Where will she go at this time of the night?”

  “A dumpsite, a whore house, hell…” Erica threw out the suggestions as she grabbed more clothes and started the walk out the balcony. “I. Don’t. Care.”

  “Be reasonable.” Kendra dogged her steps.

  “I am being reasonable,” Erica said as she let the bundle of clothes fall off the balcony. “She’s not dead, is she?”

  The only reason Kendra could afford to be so reasonable was because Brooklyn hadn’t gone after Nico. If their situations were reversed she’d be dragging Brooklyn by her hair out of the house.

  “She’s our friend,” Kendra appealed.

  “Not mine,” Erica huffed as she heaved Brooklyn’s suitcase from the top drawer. Friends didn’t do what Brooklyn had done. Now that she was doing something to get rid of that louse, calm returned to Erica’s body and the ringing in her ears dulled down to a low whine.

  Turning to Kendra, she said, “If you won’t help me I suggest you take a seat and stop talking because nothing you say will change my mind.”

  Erica brushed past Kendra dragging the heavy suitcase to the balcony. With a huge gulp of breath, she heaved it over the railing. The suitcase fell with a satisfying thud. This time when she passed Kendra, the other woman said nothing but the disappointed look she shot Erica said it all.

  Oh, well! Erica gave a mental shrug as she focused her attention on Brooklyn’s shoes. Like the clothes, over half were Erica’s. What the hell? Erica remembered lending her a few, but not this much.

  Now that she thought of it there were times she’d complained that something of hers was missing, for it to turn up hours or days later. She’d put it down to forgetfulness but looking at Brooklyn’s closet she realized she was wrong. Evidently, the younger woman’s itchy fingers went beyond men.

  Erica loved her shoes too much to let Brooklyn have them so she sorted through them. The ones that were hers, she set to one side. The shoes that belonged to Brooklyn went flying across the room, past the sliding doors and over the railing.

  Unable to keep her peace any longer, Kendra asked, “Can she sleep in my room until tomorrow then?”

  “Nope.” Erica sent another shoe sailing across the room. “Go tell her she needs to get her ass out of my house before I’m done.”

  “Come on, Eric-”

  “Listen to me, Kendra,” Erica cut her off curtly. “If I come of out of this room and find her still in this house, I promise you… I promise you she’ll leave in a body-bag.”

  For a while Kendra was silent, watching Erica with a pleading look. Erica returned it with a determined glared. Perhaps realizing that her friend was serious, she left the room and Erica resumed her sorting.

  “Did you try talking to her?” Brooklyn asked as Kendra hustled her out of the apartment.

  “Did you really think she’d listen?” Kendra retorted. “You slept with her fiancé.”

  Brooklyn’s heart dropped with disappointment. Her voice soft she said, “But I thought… I thought she’d understand that Quin loves me -”

  “Get off that bullshit,” Kendra interrupted her with a snap of her eyes. “As if you haven’t done enough damage.”

  Brooklyn kept quiet at the reproach. Why couldn’t they understand how deep hers and Quin’s feelings went? They were meant for each other. She’d known as soon as she’d seen him. If her friends would stop being angry with her for a minute they’d see it too.

  Cold air brushed against her body the moment they stepped out of the building but it was the clothes littering the flower bed and pavement that stopped her midstride. In startled shock she watched another shoe sail from the balcony above and fall into the flowerbed with a thud.

  A cloud of tears veiled her vision as she helplessly watched her belongings crush downwards. She couldn
’t believe Erica could do this to her. That Erica was taking this issue with Quin so personally was ridiculous. Wasn’t she satisfied with having fired Brooklyn? Now she was kicking her out too? How could she be so heartless? They were friends.

  “I’ll help you pick your clothes up.” Kendra dragged a suitcase from the flowerbed and to the safety of the concrete.

  Her tears falling, a silent Brooklyn followed her cue and picked up a bunch of clothes and stuffed them in the suitcase. The security guards watched them for a while before one of them came over to help.

  Through her tears, Brooklyn threw Kendra a resentful look. She probably hadn’t even tried to convince Erica at all. She’d always been jealous of the close friendship Erica and Brooklyn shared, and that they were so much better looking than she was.

  At one point a shoe from above caught her in the back of the head which only exacerbated her crying. By the time they finished packing up her stuff, she was sobbing in earnest.

  “Do you have any money?” Kendra asked.

  Brooklyn shook her head and sniffled.

  Kendra dug into her pocket and came up with two hundred dollar bills. Handing them to Brooklyn, she said, “Check into a motel tonight then we’ll meet tomorrow and decide what to do.”

  While Brooklyn tucked the money into her pocket, Kendra called her a cab. They sat on the steps waiting for it to arrive, neither speaking. Minutes later, the security guard told them that there was a cab waiting outside.

  Helping Brooklyn carry her suitcase outside, Kendra reminded her, “Don’t forget to call me when you get there.”

  “Where to?” the cab driver asked Brooklyn once she settled in the backseat.

  She gave him Quin’s address.

  The moment Quin saw her at his doorstep, he growled, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Brooklyn knew he was putting on a show. He was glad to see her. She said, “Erica kicked me out.”

  Quin’s eyes widened in excitement. “She’s back?”

  Ignoring his question Brooklyn said, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  “And that’s my problem because?” He glared at her, blocking entry into the house. For a moment it looked like he might not move at all but finally he stepped aside. “Only tonight! You’ll have to go somewhere else tomorrow.”

  Striding back to the couch, he sat then turned up the TV. He deliberately ignored Brooklyn as she hauled the heavy suitcase past him and to the bedroom. She set her luggage on the floor then walked to his closet. She opened and shut drawers looking for one that was empty. When she found none, she cleared his sock drawer shifting its contents to his underwear drawer. She unpacked her own underwear and tucked it into the evacuated drawer. They fit in perfectly.

  See. She and Quin were meant to be together. Now that she thought about it Erica had done her a favor by kicking her out. She and Quin could now move in together. Soon he’d ask her to marry him and they’d live happily ever after.

  Brooklyn was smiling when she exited the bedroom. She found Quin still seated in the living room. She was about to sit when he said, “Get me something to eat.”

  Quin loved her food. Whenever she was here, he wouldn’t even lift a finger to cook or clean –or even thank her when she did. But Brooklyn knew that deep inside he loved her for catering to his every need. If Erica knew just how much Quin loved Brooklyn, she would understand why Brooklyn had to take him away.

  The sounds of sizzling and bubbling filled the kitchen as she made him spaghetti and meatballs. When she set the meal in front of her man, he wolfed it down.

  See. He loved her food.

  He loved her.

  Once done and without a word of thank you, he handed her back the plate. “Go shower then wait for me in the bedroom.”

  Brooklyn obeyed. Careful to use the soap she’d taken from Erica’s bathroom and hidden in his medicine cabinet, she showered then toweled herself dry. She sprayed her wrists with a few drops of the perfume Quin had bought for Erica before climbing into the bed.

  Brooklyn loved being in Quin’s bed. She loved inhaling his scent; that sweet mingling of musky, male love that told her that finally someone loved her. Lulled by his scent, she drifted into sleep.

  She was yanked back into awareness by hands mauling her breasts. She jerked awake in fright but soon settled when she realized that it was Quin. His naked body shifted closer to hers, his hard muscles spooning around her softer body.

  “Ow,” Brooklyn winced when he pinched her nipples roughly. She tried to turn to face him so they could kiss but instead his hand lay heavily on her shoulder shoving her onto her stomach.

  “No.” He came over her, the hard planes of his chest pushing against her back and trapping her beneath him. He pressed her thighs open, fit his legs between them and grinded his dick to her ass.

  Brooklyn whimpered in pain when he pulled her hair hard. She was too scared of losing him to tell him he was hurting her so she bit her lip and took the punishment. His precum left a trail on her flesh before his dick slipped lower and he pushed.

  Wrong opening!

  Trying to dislodge him, Brooklyn cried out, “No.”

  “Yes,” he insisted as he grabbed her wrists to keep her from moving and thrust deeper into the tight ring. “Don’t you love me?”

  Brooklyn closed her eyes and buried her face in the pillow to hide her tears. Despite the pain from the foreign invasion, she didn’t make a sound. Each time he thrust into her, his words teased her. Don’t you love me?

  She did. So much. Much more than anyone understood.

  And he loved her too.

  CHAPTER 6

  “The doctor says he’s okay now,” Erica’s mother said. “They’re releasing him tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” Erica returned in a monotone. “That’s good.”

  “We’re thinking of throwing him a welcome home party.” The forced cheeriness in Sandra Young’s voice was obvious even across the several state lines that separated them. “What’d do you think?”

  “I guess.” Erica shrugged as she picked a piece of lint off her bed cover. In her opinion a broken ankle was not a good reason to throw a party but when had Sandra ever needed a good reason to celebrate.

  “He’ll be so happy,” Sandra gushed. “Your father loves cake.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I got rid of the ladder,” Sandra went on unconcerned by her daughter’s lukewarm response. “I don’t know what your father was thinking, getting up on the ladder like that. Johnson can fix that roof just fine, but your father says he doesn’t like how Johnson looks at me. My goodness men can be so-”

  “There’s someone else trying to call me,” Erica interrupted.

  “Oh,” Sandra’s disappointment cut clear through the line. There was a brief pause before with a hopeful note in her voice she asked, “Then you’ll call me tomorrow?”

  Erica’s pause was much, much longer but finally she sighed. “I’ll try.” The silence on both ends was deafening. They both knew that Erica wouldn’t call. She hadn’t called for the last nine years so what would make her start now? Sometimes Erica wondered why her mother even tried. She said, “Sandra, I have to go.”

  “Wait, wait,” Sandra rushed to forestall her. “Brooklyn called this morning. She said you were having problems?”

  “Is that what she called them?” Erica guffawed. The phone calls between Brooklyn and Erica’s parents had started when Brooklyn had picked one of Erica’s phone calls. Erica had told Brooklyn that she didn’t mind but the truth was, it irritated her that her friend talked to her parents more than she did. Finally she had a reason to say, “Look, Sandra, I don’t want you talking to that girl anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s private.”

  “I’m your mother,” Sandra coerced. “There’s nothing private between us.”

  Erica didn’t answer.

  “Besides your father likes that she calls every day to check on us,” Sandra said. The emphasis on the she wa
s for Erica. She should’ve felt a pang of guilt but she didn’t. Her parents knew perfectly well why she didn’t call. Her mother added, “Besides you girls are like sisters. You shouldn’t be fighting, especially not over that Kendra.”

  “Kendra? What’s she got to do with…” Erica’s words trailed off. She wasn’t interested in whatever cock and bull story Brooklyn had given her parents. As far as she was concerned, the girl was dead. “Just stop talking to Brooklyn, okay?”

  “I don’t know how you expect us to do that,” Sandra complained. “It’s not like we can stop picking up the phone.”

  “You know what? Do what you like?” The frustration was obvious in Erica’s voice as she said, “Bye.”

  The moment she ended the call, her phone blared again. Rolling her eyes at the caller ID, Erica sent her mother straight to voicemail. She’d done her daughterly duty for the week.

  Although the conversation had lasted no longer than five minutes, Erica was drained. Her weekly phone calls with her mother always left her in need of a glass or two, or three, or a bottle of wine. And she wasn’t even a drinker! She was glad that her father was as proud as she was and had never bothered to call because she wasn’t sure she could survive a conversation with him.

  For the first fifteen years of her life, her relationship with her parents had been exceptional. Then she’d found out their secret, and it’d shot everything to hell. She’d spiraled out of control; bad friends, drugs and sex with anyone who could have her. The tipping point had been when at seventeen she’d gotten pregnant. She couldn’t stand their disappointment. In the face of their own choices, it was hypocritical. Coupled with her boyfriend deciding he wasn’t the father of her child and a miscarriage four months into the pregnancy, it’d been too much and she’d walked out of the door.

  She didn’t know how they’d found her four years later. By then she had Strippers & Heels, and she didn’t need them or their love anymore. If it wasn’t for her mother’s persistence she wouldn’t even be taking their phone calls right now.

  Brushing thoughts of her parents away, Erica set her phone back on the charger but not before she glanced at the time. Oh damn! She had only two hours to prepare for her date with Reggie. She hurried to the closet.