Torn: I Dont Need You, But I Want You

by Latoya Chandler

  “Can you come to the hotel? He’s here and had security escort me to my room,” she cries.

  “I’m on my way,” I say, ending the call.

  This muthafucka is really on some shit. He needs security when he’s the problem? How does that work out? He really will need security and a coroner when I get through with his bitch-ass.

  Chapter Seventy ~ Nae’s Back With a Vengeance

  Vengeance is the act of turning anger in on yourself.

  On the surface it may be directed at someone else,

  but it is a surefire recipe for arresting emotional recovery.

  — Jane Goldman

  

  I have to admit, I love sucking on Nard. The way he gets turned on and responds to my head game makes me wetter than a faucet. I had to make him bust real good because I knew I wasn’t giving him any draws. Tonight I’m meeting Walter, and I know he won’t have a problem putting my kitty kat to sleep. After the week I’ve just had, I need to be fucked to sleep, back awake, then back to sleep again. Walter is capable of doing that and then some.

  Tae really hurt my feelings, which is one of the reasons why I need a good old-fashioned dick-down-to-the-socks from Walter. They say milk does a body good, but since I’m lactose intolerant, I would have to disagree. Also I know they are sadly mistaken. Dick does the mind, body, and soul good; it will take all your troubles and worries away. That’s why Tae’s running around all confused, chasing and hiding in the cut with BK’s sexy ass. He’s torn that cherry out and has her nose wide open. I can’t say I blame her; that piece he’s walking around with will have you switching religions. It’s just too bad he didn’t let me squirt some of this Nae juice on him. He would have forgotten Tae’s name, better yet, her existence.

  Now, every time I think about Tae or BK, Mahogany’s fraudulent ass runs across my mind. She really had me fooled; to think I was considering holding her down on some exclusive-type shit and keeping Walter on the side for when I needed to be dicked-down-to-my-socks, when all-in-all, she was playing me like a ColecoVision game. That is the last time I will allow someone to get that close to me. From here on out, I am having open-and-shut encounters—legs open and legs closed. If you can make me cum, you will be invited back to play in Nae’s Land. If you can’t, legs closed; love don’t live here anymore. I tried to change but these heathens brought it back up out of me.

  Chapter Seventy-One ~ Latavia’s Surprise

  Always mystify, mislead and surprise the enemy if possible.

  — Stonewall Jackson

  

  He clearly has me all-the-way fucked-up if he thinks he can just end things with me and I’m okay with it. Oh, hell to the no; somebody done told him all-the-way wrong. I have risked entirely too much to be with him to be forced to be sitting in this car waiting to catch him out there. I just know there’s no way in the world that his horny, nympho, sex-crazed behind can go from staying waist deep in me, to needing time to himself. Go somewhere with that! I refuse to accept that as the final answer. You can trust and believe, I will find out on this very day.

  I must really be upset because I am cussing like I have lost every bit of my home training. I am going to need the Lord to forgive me on this one. This man has me in my feelings and ready to kill somebody. There’s no way you can tell me we don’t belong together. I mean, after losing touch with one another for twenty-three years, we reconnected and picked up where we left off, as if we had never skipped a beat. It will be a very sad day for him if I find out anything remotely close to the opposite of what he’s telling me. If so, like Biggie said, “There’s going to be a lot of slow singing and flower bringing,” and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. He knows that when I love, I really love. There is no in-between. I don’t know what gray is because my love is black and white. If he doesn’t know, my dear BK is about to find out.

  So I’m parked about five cars away from the apartment complex in the Bronx that I had the taxi driver follow him to. Now the wait is on and I will sit here until he comes out. I don’t care what time it is either. ‘Being married to a cop comes with its advantages, I tell you that one,’ I smile, thinking to myself.

  “Show time; here comes the man of the hour now,” I say to myself, starting the car, ready to get this party started.

  I follow BK to a hotel and allow him to go inside first. He goes up to the receptionist. I make sure to keep my distance and still keep track of him, but I can’t hear what he is saying to her. I’m trying not to panic but this is not turning out the way I expected it to. As I turn to leave to gather my thoughts, my heart stops when I see Nae enter the hotel. She clearly doesn't recognize me in these shades and this dumb wig; she walks right past me to the receptionist’s desk.

  “Reservations for Nariah,” she tells the receptionist, displaying her identification.

  “Thank you, Ms. Westbrook; you have room four-six-nine,” the receptionist replies, handing her the key to the room.

  I exit the hotel and get inside the car to think of my next move. ‘Neither one of them is getting away with this,’ I think, removing the wig and shades before exiting the car and heading back into the hotel. Since I know what room the love connection will be taking place in, I walk straight to the elevator, anxiously waiting to get to room four-six-nine. I can’t believe these two, but I have a surprise for both of them. Nae is something else, giving me that damn ‘Darnell is a good man’ speech; he doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. All the while, she was screwing him behind my back. I should have known BK was next on her hit list; it appears she’s obsessed with my sloppy seconds.

  When I approach room four-six-nine, I knock on the door, covering the peephole so I can’t be seen. When neither one of them acknowledges my knocking on the door, I knock again.

  “Who the fuck is it?!” Nae yells, with her ghetto ass.

  Disguising my voice, I reply, “Room service.”

  She repeats what I said and opens the door. When we lock eyes, she tries to close the door, but I push my way in, removing the gun I have concealed in my jacket. I see she starts putting on a show, crying.

  Through my own tears, I spit, “Don’t cry now, you nasty, heartless bitch.”

  Looking around the room, I notice BK’s lying ass is nowhere to be found until I notice the light coming from under the bathroom door. When the door opens, I am in complete shock, rage, and scared to death at the same time.

  “I hate you,” I cry, pulling the trigger and shooting until nothing else comes out of the gun. Without thinking, my anger gets the best of me, causing me to kill the man who had raped me from the tender age of ten.

  ‘What in God’s name is he doing here in this room with Nae’s trifling ass?’ I think before passing out.

  Chapter Seventy-Two ~ Braxton Is Furious

  Anger is one letter short of danger.

  — Author Unknown

  

  When Sharon called, she forgot to tell me the room number. She said she’d switched rooms because the air conditioner wasn’t working, or something like that. ‘I don’t know why she needs an air conditioner anyway; it’s not even that hot,’ I think as I approach the receptionist’s desk.

  “Good evening, ma’am, I’m a guest of Sharon Braxton.”

  “Let me phone upstairs, sir; one moment please.”

  “No problem,” I reply, growing more impatient by the minute.

  “Sharon is on the fourth floor,” I say to myself as I take two steps at a time after the receptionist gives me the room number. There were too many people waiting on the elevator and I can get there faster taking the stairs.

  “Where is he?” I spit, barging in the room as she opens the door.

  “Braxton, please calm down. He isn’t in here. He’s in one of these rooms, cheating on me with another woman,” she cries.

  “What did you just say?!”

  “He’s here with another woman,” she replies just befor
e I slap fire out of her mouth, not allowing her to get another word out.

  “Why are hitting me, Braxton?”

  “Shut the fuck up before I kill your dumb ass. You called me over here because the next dick is with some other hoe and not you? Yo, on some real shit, you have lost your muthafuckin mind, and I have every right to snap your fucking neck. Don’t say another word, Sharon!” I spit, losing my focus when I hear a knock at the door.

  “Who is it?” I yell.

  “Security, sir,” a male voice replies.

  I open the door to a Glock 26 nine mm staring me in the face. “Fuck! Don’t cock it if you’re not going to use it, playboy!” I spit.

  “Braxton, shut up! There is a gun in your face,” Sharon says, weeping.

  Chapter Seventy-Three ~ Bernard Is Infuriated

  It infuriates me to be wrong when I know I’m right

  — Moliere

  

  “So are you going to tell me your name?” I question my mystery guest.

  “If you’re good to me, I will tell you my name. How about that?” she seductively asks.

  “It’s your world; I’m just a squirrel trying to get a nut, so please feel free to bounce on it.”

  “You and your corny lines,” she laughs. “Just sit back and relax while I put on a show for you, big poppa.”

  I do as instructed and watch as she dances seductively before me, removing her blouse revealing her acorn breasts. ‘Unfortunately, I am a breast man so she will have to do better than this,’ I think.

  She must notice I’m not turned on or feeling her performance, so she straddles me, dry humps, and dances provocatively, giving me a free lap dance.

  “I hope you can move like that with no pants on,” I say, slapping her backside.

  What she lacks in the tit department, she makes up in her ass. I have to bend that over. “Make it clap,” I instruct.

  Acorn does as I instruct, removing her jeans. “Since she refused to give me her name, I will just call her Acorn,” I joke to myself as I watch her strip down to her G-string.

  “Hold up, little lady. What’s that smell?” I question.

  “What smell? Just relax, sexy,” she replies.

  There is no way I can think or relax with the foul odor now in this room, burning the hairs out of my nose. “Maybe you should run in there and shower first; the smell arrived when you took them jeans off, little lady,” I say, infuriated.

  “Excuse me,” she embarrassingly replies.

  “Yes, you are excused.”

  I am not trying to hurt her feelings, but she should have worked that shit out before throwing her smelly pussy at me. I am completely thrown off guard when I hear gunshots.

  ‘What the hell is going on in this place,’ I think, reaching for my piece. Slowly opening the door, I peek out the room and it is pure mayhem in the halls. Patrons are running every which way. I can’t tell which way the shots were fired from until I heard muffled screams.

  “Acorn or whatever your name is, call nine-one-one,” I yell over my shoulder.

  Chapter Seventy-Four ~ Nae’s Worse Nightmare

  I can’t describe to you just how I feel. It’s like living in a nightmare, way too real. You were just here and now you’re gone; how am I supposed to live on?

  All those days we spent together are now just memories, why did you have to leave; can you answer me that please? I can’t believe what just happened.

  — Author Unknown

  

  ‘I am so anxious to see Walter,’ I think, driving over to the hotel. ‘He is the only person who really understands me. I dig what Nard and I have, but it’s nothing compared to my relationship with Walter. With age comes wisdom and he is a wise man. If I were to ever think about settling down, he would be a prime candidate. But we all know that’s not going to happen in this lifetime or the next,’ I think as I arrive at my destination.

  “Good evening, ma’am, reservation for Nariah,” I say to the receptionist, displaying my driver’s license.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Westbrook, you have room four-six-nine,” the receptionist replies, handing me the room key.

  When I walk in the room, Walter is lying on the bed, stroking himself.

  “Hey there, sexy; I see you started the party without me.”

  “You’re early,” he replies.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all, love. I want to freshen up first, but I have something for you over on the nightstand,” he says, standing to his feet.

  “Let me clean that up for you. I can power wash you like no other.”

  “We have plenty of time for that, beautiful,” he replies, walking into the bathroom.

  I walk over to the nightstand to retrieve the gift Walter left for me and I am blown away when I open the gift bag. Inside the bag are two small boxes and a note.

  “Nae, I had a hard time deciding which one to pick, so I bought both in hopes that you would do me the honor of being my wife. Love is something that doesn’t come to me easy; therefore, I have to capture it when it arrives. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  ‘Is he serious?’ I think. ‘I am not in any condition to be anyone’s wife. I have too many issues. However, he knows me better than anyone. He knows about all of my issues, and despite them all, he still wants to marry me,’ I think as tears flood my face.

  Knock knock knock!

  Now is not the time for guests, so I will ignore the idiot with bad timing.

  Knock knock knock!

  “Who the fuck is it?!” I snarl.

  “Room service.”

  “Room service?” I say, snatching the door open.

  I’m having a hard time processing what is happening at this very moment, so without notice, I try to close the door on her, but she barges her ass right on in, pulling a gun out on me.

  “Tae, what are you doing? It isn’t worth it; your life is more important!” I plead.

  She doesn’t respond. She looks around the room as if she is looking for someone or she has lost something.

  “Shit!” I say as Walter exits the bathroom wearing his birthday suit.

  No other words are said before Tae is telling Walter she hates him and bullets are decorating his body.

  “Oh my God, Tae, what have you done?!” I cry before she passes out.

  Chapter Seventy-Five ~ Latavia’s Worlds Collide

  Please let me show you the pain my scars have made me obtain

  before the weight of the world came crashing on my shoulders.

  — Author Unknown

  

  “Good evening, Mrs. Carter, you’ve been out for four days now. How are you feeling?” a nurse questions me.

  “Where am I and why am I here?” I ask.

  “I will have Doctor Jacobs come in to talk with you.”

  “Why can’t you tell me what’s going on?” I ask as she leaves the room.

  Five minutes later, Doctor Jacobs comes into the room to inform me that I am four weeks pregnant, and I passed out due to dehydration and some other nonsense. But most importantly, my baby is fine. That brings a huge smile to my face. I am going to be a mother and I will do whatever I have to do in order to protect my child from all the abuse, hurt, and pain I have endured.

  My thoughts are broken as I try to grasp what the news reporter is saying on the television.

  “Homicide Detective Sgt. Larry Dunbar says thirty-four-year-old Darnell Carter, a fifteen-year veteran of the New York City Police Department, turned himself in following the shooting of Walter Watkins and Braxton Kirkland. He was arrested for first-degree murder and shooting with intent to kill.”

  Reality sets in and the events of the last few weeks replay in my head. Tears storm down my face. I can’t believe Darnell killed my father and BK. When did he get out of the coma and leave the hospital?

  ‘Hold up! I shot my father,’ I think. ‘Why is he covering for me? Did Nae
frame him to cover up for me?’

  “What is going on?” I scream through my tears.

  “Mrs. Carter, please calm down for the baby’s sake or we will have to sedate you,” Doctor Jacobs informs me.

  “How can I be calm when my husband is in jail and the father of my child is dead?” I question.

  “I will give you some time to gather yourself and send a nurse in to give you something to help you relax,” he says before leaving the room.

  “I can’t believe this! I can’t believe this!” I scream to the top of my lungs.

  “Believe what, you selfish bitch?” a voice says to me.

  When I turn around, Nae is standing over me with a pistol.

  “Nae, we are sisters. What are you doing with that gun?” I ask.

  “Now we’re sisters? What was I when you almost killed me?”

  “I didn’t almost do anything! I knew exactly what I was doing and who I was killing when I was shooting!”

  “Is that right?” she says, hitting me across the face with the butt of the gun.

  “What is wrong with you?” I scream as blood oozes from my mouth.

  “I hate you, Tae! You had it all—the husband and the house. To think I was happy for you and I was your ride-or-die, but you couldn’t be happy with what you had and leave well enough alone. You had to eat your cake and have it, too; now two people are dead because of you,” she cries.

  “Why do you care about either of them, Nae? I can’t believe you were sleeping with my father after everything he put me through and what he made us do to one another. Have you forgotten all about that, Nae?”

  “I didn’t forget anything! I forgave Walter, something you know nothing about because you think everything is all about you. Well, you’re in for a rude awakening and you’re about to go the same way you took my child and my soon-to-be-husband away from me,” she says, placing the gun between my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Nae; you do what you have to do,” I say, closing my eyes as two armed police officers wrestle her to the floor, disarming her and placing her in handcuffs.