This Can't be Life

by Shakara Cannon

  Sittin’ in that video room watchin’ Tyron and Banks go at it like animals, just about drove me crazy. It took everything in me not to walk down those stairs and walk in on them. I would have never guessed that Tyron took it up the ass. That was just unfathomable, but I saw it with my own eyes. Tyron took all Banks’ dick like a pro. Who woulda thunk it? Hell, he really can’t say that he isn’t gay! Men will talk that I’m not gay shit because they just give the dick, not take it. But not Tyron, he took the dick in every hole on his damn body, and he knew what to do with it. That shit blew my mind. Banks fucked Tyron every which way but loose. If I hadn’t been so angry and appalled that I was watchin’ my man have sex with my best friend’s man, I would have been turned the hell on. It was bad enough that I had to deal with him havin’ a girlfriend and givin’ her the dick that should’ve been all mine. Now I had to deal with him fuckin' other men and bein' fucked by them, too?

  I had a few good hours to get my head right so when I got to Tyron, he wouldn’t be able to tell somethin’ was wrong with me. I had to fly in, find my driver, have him get my luggage, and then get to the house we were staying in. Tyron would be in later that night, but he wanted me there and waitin’ when he got in as he always did.

  I really needed to get away from Cali, and what was a better way than to go to Vegas? There was so much goin’ on in Sin City that I could forget my own problems. The only downfall I could foresee was that Banks would be in close proximity. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to be anywhere near Tyron while he was workin’, so I was in for a long, lonely vacation, but that was better than bein’ lonely in LA. At least I would be able to spend some time with him, which was better than no time. Hell, I would take whatever I could get. I was like a damned crack fiend who just couldn’t say no when the pipe was dangling in his face. I was beyond disgusted with myself, but not at liberty to do anything about it. My heart was runnin’ this show.

  I found that I had dozed off when I suddenly awoke as we began our descent into McCarran International. I didn’t realize I was so tired, but I guess the shit that’s happened over these last couple of days was startin’ to take a toll on me. I was first off of the plane — thankful to be flying first class. My Louis Vuitton Dersou messenger bag was swung over my shoulder and restin' on my back as I made a swift exit through the terminals.

  Noticin' Tyron’s driver / bodyguard holdin' a sign that read my name — like he didn’t already know who I was — I walked up to him and told him that I was Stacey. As we walked to the limo, I described my luggage to him. Then I got in the back of the car and waited for him to return with it: One Louis Vuitton Pégase 70 suitcase with my name tags on it — it couldn’t be that hard to find, I thought. I was just too exhausted to be dealin' with claimin' baggage. Plus, this was the perfect opportunity to call Simone and Talise and let them know that I had left the state. They always get pissed off when I leave town and don’t tell them, so I was prepared to get my ear chewed off.

  The day had gone by so fast that it seemed like I had just gotten there, instead, I was wakin' up from a much needed nap. To my surprise, Tyron was sitting in a chair next to the bed, just watchin’ me. The look in his eyes scared the shit out of me, but I didn’t want to act alarmed. As far as he knows, I haven’t done shit.

  “What’s up, baby? Why you didn’t wake me up?” I asked, yawnin' and stretchin' my arms. The look in his eyes seemed to get angrier and more evil by the second. I wanted to jump out of the window. Somethin’ was very wrong.

  “What’s wrong, Ty?” I asked, sittin up in the bed. In what had to be a split second, Tyron leapt toward me and had his hands wrapped around my neck, chokin' the life out of me, before I could even think to move. I had never seen him look so angry.

  “You think I’m stupid, Stacey? Huh? Answer my question. You think I’m dumb?” he asked, not realizin' that he was chokin' the air out of me and I couldn’t answer him no matter how much I wanted to.

  “You stupid, stupid bitch, you. Ay, yo!” Tyron yelled. I just knew my life was over when Tyron’s driver / bodyguard — the same one who had picked me up from the airport only hours ago — walked into the room looking like the MMA fighter, Kimbo Slice.

  I was stunned and scared shitless, but glad that Tyron had finally let go of the lethal grip he had on my neck. My eyesight was returnin' to normal and I was gradually startin' to catch my breath when the severity of the situation I was in started to hit home. I knew I was in for some shit.

  “Get the fuck up, you punk ass bitch!” Tyron spewed between clenched teeth. I got up and sat on the edge of the bed still holdin' my throat. I wanted to cry, but I wasn’t goin’ to let these bitches see me cry. I didn’t say shit. I just sat there ready to hear what he had to say. I didn’t want to spill my guts not knowin’ for sure what he was talkin’ about, although I knew there couldn’t be any other reason for his wrath.

  “Where’s the fuckin video, pussy, and who the fuck you show it to?” Tyron asked, slappin' me across my head like you’d do a hardheaded little boy. I knew I had to think fast and be careful of what I said, so I decided to play dumb and at least try to see how much he knew.

  “What are you talkin’ about, Ty?” I asked right before he slapped me across my face so hard I thought my head was going to spin all the way around twice. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out how he could have found out.

  “I’m not going to ask you again, Stacey. Where the fuck is the video and who did you show it to? You think I’m fucking stupid, huh? That wasn’t my main video room, Stacey. You think you’re smart, but you are so damned stupid! I saw everything you did in my house, dumb ass!” Tyron was seething. I’d never seen him this angry and I’d seen him pretty mad before. I sat there dumbfounded, tasting blood in my mouth from his vicious bitch slap. “I’m not fucking with you, Stacey, and I don’t have no patience or time, for that fucking matter. Spit! That! Shit! Out!” Tyron yelled, pokin' me in the head with his right index finger, emphasizing each word.

  “Fuck you, Tyron, you fuckin’ closet fag,” I yelled. Then I spat out a mixture of saliva and blood in his face. I was so pissed off that the same man who claimed he loved me and had my back was doin’ this shit to me! Fuck this. I’m not goin’ out like a punk!

  I got up quickly and tried to run for the door, which was pretty damned stupid. I hadn’t taken two steps before “Kimbo” was on me. He threw me on the bed and held me down with his knee in my back. In my peripheral, I could see Tyron walkin' out of the room.

  “Do what you have to do to make that snake bitch talk, but keep him alive. Don’t let him leave your sight even to take a piss. No holds barred.” With that, he left the room.

  After Tryon left, I was beaten like I never knew possible. My teeth were loose in my mouth and my eyes were so swollen that I could barely see out of them. How someone could beat a person like this was beyond me. It was like I wasn’t even human to this man. Like I was his punching bag and he was just doing his everyday workout. When I still wouldn’t tell him where the video was, he began to cut me all over my body with a razor blade. Tiny thin slits over my legs, arms, stomach…my whole body was in excruciating pain made much worse by the rubbing alcohol he doused onto my cuts. What the dumb fuck didn’t realize was that I couldn’t tell him where the damned video was if I wanted to. My mouth and lips felt three times their normal size and my tongue was so swollen that I could barely breathe let alone swallow. After a while, I just accepted my fate. I never thought somethin’ as horrible as this would happen to me — especially at the command of the man I loved.

  As the night went on, Tyron would come in periodically and watch me. I couldn’t see him clearly, but I knew it was him. I wondered if he felt anything close to remorse. As tears stung their way down my face I could feel his eyes on me, I could sense him staring at me like he had never seen me before in his life, like he never told me that he loved me. Like he had never held me, slept with me, and laughed with me. I would have rather they just killed me right th
en and there because I was already dead inside.

  I don’t know how long I was in that room but I knew that no matter what, he wasn’t going to let me leave this house alive. By day two or three, I felt myself healing and I thought that maybe I was wrong, maybe Tyron was planning on letting me go, but no sooner than I though that “Kimbo” began shootin' shit in my arm with a hypodermic needle. I guess he thought if they got me high, I would talk, but all it did was make me lose any type of sense of what was up or down. I was damned near delirious, but I was out of pain. I couldn’t feel the broken bones in my legs, arms, ribs and Lord knows where else — I was able to escape. I felt my life coming to an end and I accepted it. I was at peace with my fate. “Was all of this worth it?” I asked myself as I laid there, floating in and out of consciousness. I could feel my soul disconnecting and leaving my body and I prayed that my family would be able find my body after all was said and done.

  Simone

  My mind wouldn’t stop once I allowed myself to wake up, admit, and accept that I was in love with someone else’s husband. Lying on that boat in Carlton’s arms, feeling his lips on my back, I knew that there wasn’t one place on this earth that I would have rather been at that moment. We talked for hours. I told him about being molested and my mother not being my mother. I expressed to him how badly I wanted to find my real mom and found myself crying in his arms. He held me and assured me that he would do anything in his power to make me happy.

  I knew that I had to pull away from him or it would be harder later. The thought alone brought tears to my eyes, but I knew what I had to do. I had to let him go. I decided not to answer my phone for few days to clear my mind and get my shit straight. I sent Talise and Stacey a text message, letting them know that I was fine and that they didn’t have any reason to worry. I told them that I was going to lay low for a few days. With them going through all their own shit, I knew that they’d understand.

  Talise made me promise that I was all right, which I did. Carlton had given me something very precious. What I was going through was all my fault. From the moment I allowed myself to fall for him, I knew what the outcome would be. I put myself in this situation and now, I was going to remove myself from it.

  Stacey and I ended up on the phone talking no more than two minutes after I sent him the message.

  “Hey, babe, what’s goin’ on? I was just picking up my phone to call you. What you mean you gon’ lay low for a few days?” he asked.

  “I just have to think about some things and get my mind right. I’m all right, though. Don’t worry.” He had a huge tendency to do just that.

  “Does it have anything to do with Banks?” Stacey asked.

  “Yeah, Stace, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’m done with him for good. I deserve more than just being someone’s mistress.”

  “Yeah, we’ve been tellin' you that. But who am I to talk as much shit as I do. As long as you aren’t with that asshole, we’ll talk later. I just landed in Vegas to be with Tyron. I’m in the car, waitin’ for the driver to come back with my luggage. There’s so much shit goin’ on that I have to tell you about, Monie. Life is so fucked up,” Stacey said, sounding defeated.

  “Stacey, you know how shit is. You can’t get down on yourself right now. What happened?” I knew that it had something to do with Tyron.

  “Girl, we’d be on the phone forever if I told you what happened. You just concentrate on gettin’ over that nigga and I’m gon’ do the same. It’s curtains for me and Tyron, and I’m serious this time. I can’t do this anymore, Simone. I have to let him go, no matter how much its gon’ hurt me.”

  “Stace, I’m so sorry you’re going through this shit with him. But why in the hell are you out there with him if you feel like this?” I asked incredulously. “You need to just let him go and let that be it. You don’t need to be out there with him to do it…you know you can talk to me right now, Stacey. I’m okay.”

  “No, I’m good, Simone. I had to come out here to iron some things out with him and close this chapter of my life. This must be done in person. One minute, I don’t want anything to do with him, and the next, I can’t imagine tomorrow without him. Don’t worry. We will have plenty of time to talk. I’ll fill you in later, Pookie,” Stacey said, trying to lighten the mood. “The driver has returned with my luggage,” he said in a pretty good British accent.

  “Okay, but remember that if you or Tali need me, call my fax line. All my other calls will go straight to voicemail because I am powering them off as we speak. Y’all better not call me if there’s no emergency,” I laughed.

  “Whatever. By tomorrow, I’m going to have heard from your ass five times.” We laughed and said our goodbyes.

  When I hung up the phone with Stacey, I called Carlton. I wanted to save him for last. I was happy he was out of town and had a show tonight. I knew that he would have been at my door once I told him what I was about to tell him.

  “Hey, baby, what’s up?” Carlton greeted me.

  “Hey, not much. Look, Carlton, I’m going to get straight to the reason for my call…” I blurted out.

  “Reason for your call? You know you don’t need a reason to call me, baby girl.” Carlton said, cutting me off.

  “Please, let me finish, Carlton. I’m in love with you and it’s wrong. I can’t keep beating myself over the head with this because I know what is morally right and what isn’t. I can’t keep living my life like I can do whatever floats my boat, like there are no consequences to my actions. You are married and you can never be mine. You have children that need their father to be faithful to their mom. I’m telling you now that I will no longer take any calls from you.” I wasn’t angry and I’m sure he could tell that I had thought about what I was saying to him. I wasn’t speaking irrationally. I had made up my mind.

  “Oh, hell naw. Fuck that, Simone! What’s wrong with you? I haven’t been gone for more than 48 hours and this is what I missed?” His voice sounded panicked.

  “I’m sorry, Carlton. This isn’t up for debate. I love you and wish you the best.” I hung up the phone and powered it off. Next, I unplugged my home phone from the wall. My fax line was loud enough that I knew I would be able to hear it ringing in the office down the hall if it rang.

  I tried to wipe the few tears from my eyes, but I couldn’t hold them back any longer and allowed myself to have a good cry. I let the warm fluid stream its way onto my pillow as I laid, balled into a fetal position on my bed. After what seemed like hours of sobbing, I finally fell into a deep sleep. I slept soundly with no thoughts on my mind. My brain felt completely at rest. I knew in my mind that I had made the right decision. I just hoped my heart would get the memo soon because it ached like I had been physically hurt.

  Deon

  “What in the fuck is this?” I whispered aloud, standing butt naked in the shower looking down at my dick. My shit was throbbing with pain and I was looking at what could have been a popped pimple on the shaft of my dick. That shit hurt like hell! I didn’t want to panic, but I knew that something wasn’t right.

  I threw on a sweat suit and some fucking house shoes, called to the garage for them to bring the Range to the front, and walked out of my apartment, heading to Shelly’s. I hadn’t felt this angry with anyone since Nichelle’s ex-husband took her life. I would have killed him myself if he hadn’t taken the honor of doing it himself.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was banging on Shelly’s front door. I could hear Blu running toward the door barking. His barks turned to whines as he sensed it was me banging like the police on the other side.

  “Deon, what’s the matter?” Shelly asked, opening the door for me to come in. She touched my arm and I shrugged away from her. I wanted answers, not petting.

  “I need to talk to you right now,” I said, leading the way up the stairs and into her kitchen. I sat on one of the bar stools at the center island, put my hands over my face, and rested my elbows on the stainless steal surface. A pain shot through my dick, like I needed a remin
der of why I was here. I looked up at her and looked into her eyes to see if there was any trace of guilt for something she knew she should have told me. She looked frightened, but I couldn’t tell if it was because I just popped up over her house in house shoes, banging on the door and acting like a madman, or if it was because she intentionally had unprotected sex with me, knowing that she had some shit.

  “Shelly, I’m about to ask you something and you better be completely honest with me or I swear I will walk out of this house and never speak to you a-fuckin-gain.” She put a shaking hand over her heart.

  “Oh, my God, Deon. What is wrong with you? What’s wrong?” she asked, a tear escaping her left eye. Her voice was quivering as more tears found their way down her cheeks. I sat there and looked at her for what must have been too long, because she spoke again.

  “Deon, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Please tell me!” She croaked.

  “Shelly I have a fucking sore on my dick. Is there anything you need to tell me?” I asked through clenched teeth. Her eyes grew wide and I saw anger make its way to the surface.

  “What? What in the fuck did you just ask me, Deon? Is this your way of telling me that I fucking need to go to the doctor? Is this your way of telling me that you may have given me a fucking STD?” She yelled at the top of her lungs. “You mother fucking bastard!” She ran toward me with her arms swinging ready to do some damage. I caught her arms before she could land a blow, and with both of them in my hands, I held her away from me and looked into her eyes. I could see a multitude of emotions, hurt and anger being the most prominent. I instantly felt guilty for coming at her the way I did.