Coldhearted & Crazy

by Michel Moore

  “Oh yeah, maybe,” she finally stated nonchalantly, hoping he would give her some air.

  Donyae was happy to get a maybe, so he sat down. Besides, the professor was coming.

  “Good afternoon, everyone.” He scanned the room until he saw London, making sure to acknowledge her presence. In class, they took notes on everything that they would be tested on that semester. By the time it was over, every student had a notebook full of information. “Well, that’s it for today, have a nice evening.” After that announcement, the room started to clear out.

  “Hey, now, I was just wondering, can I walk you somewhere?” Donyae waited anxiously for her response, hoping that London would say yes.

  “Well, umm . . .” Before London could complete her sentence, Professor Kincade interrupted the two.

  “Excuse me, Miss Roberts, can I speak to you a moment?”

  Donyae was disappointed that Professor Kincade had blown his rap to London. “Well, I’ll see you later.” He grinned at her as he left the room.

  “Did I stop a future love connection from taking place?” Professor Kincade was smiling when he said it, but was really slightly jealous of the young boy’s youth and the body that he once had when he was his age.

  “Not really, I just met him today.” London blushed at his assumption.

  “Well, I was wondering, could we get a cup of coffee and discuss if you would like to be my class secretary?”

  London was beaming with pride that he would even consider her for that seemingly important position. She had no idea that he’d made that title up at the last moment. He had to get a hold of that ass before Mr. Young and Smooth had a chance to. The professor was on a mission and didn’t want to take any chances. Grabbing his briefcase they walked across the grass until they reached his car.

  “Where are we going?” London felt strangely scared. Not really scared of him personally, but scared she would not know what to say to him in a one-on-one setting. London’s heart was pounding. “The student union?”

  “Oh no, I forgot the paperwork in my office. It’s right at the edge of campus. Come on, jump in. I don’t bite.” Professor Kincade coaxed her inside his car.

  After a short ride filled with jazz playing on the radio, he pulled up at an office building. He quickly ran in and returned with a look of total confusion on his face, giving London a sad expression. “I’m sorry, the office is such a mess that I couldn’t find them and I didn’t want to keep you out here waiting.” The professor was definitely running his game. Real talk, he’d gotten just what he had come for and had it tucked discreetly in his pocket until the right time presented itself.

  “Oh, that’s okay. I have to go to a meeting in about an hour or so anyway.” London was somewhat relieved because she was at a loss for words.

  With the chances of his plan unraveling, he had to think quickly. “Hey, I promised you a cup of coffee. I know a place nearby.” Turning right, then left, he pulled up to a little cafe before London had time to protest. They took a seat near the back area even though it wasn’t that crowded inside. London wanted to sit on the front patio outside, but he claimed he was recovering from a cold. In reality, the wolf in man’s clothing really had no desire to be in the front on display to the other patrons. He needed to be low-key; after all, he was a married man, and, besides, it would not fit into his cynical plan.

  The teacher and young student continued to chat about this and that. Soon London checked her watch, and although she was having a good time, she revealed she would have to leave soon. It was already 5:15 and she didn’t want to be late. Fatima would be waiting for her and she had no desire to let her new friend down. No man was worth losing a friend over; at least that’s what Gran had taught her and Kenya. Sadly, she told the professor of her prearranged plans as she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room.

  Moments after she left out of sight, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small vile: the same vile he’d gotten from his office earlier when they stopped. He put three small drops in her coffee and stirred it up, placing her spoon back in the same position. When the naïve teen returned and drank the rest, it seemed to be only minutes before she looked a little out of it.

  “Wow, I feel kinda dizzy.” London was starting to slur her words. She had never even tasted wine before so she had no idea about what she was starting to feel. The room was starting to spin and she felt confused and tired.

  The professor sat back and watched London transform before his eyes. His dick started to get harder and harder as he thought about what was getting ready to take place. It’s show time. For everything to go as planned, the scheming older man had to walk her to his vehicle before anyone else noticed her being tipsy and out of it.

  The professor got her inside his car and locked the doors. As they drove down the road London was in somewhat of a trance as the road started to vibrate and her eyes rolled toward the rear of her head. Taking full advantage of the skirt she had on Professor Kincade roughly shoved his hand in between her legs after moving her panties to the side. London was soon totally passed out cold and couldn’t feel the blunt force of his fingers pounding in and out of her virgin insides. The professor slowly licked his fingers, tasting her moist juices as he pulled them out of her.

  My dick is so fucking hard I can’t wait, he sinisterly thought. This freshman is finer than all the ones in previous years!

  After a short drive they pulled up to his destination and London’s unfortunate fate that was awaiting—the North End Motel.

  Chapter Nine

  London

  It had been a little more than six hours since London had called Fatima to come and help her. In distress and disoriented, London woke up with all of her clothes torn off. There was blood on the sheets and every part of her body had been terribly violated. She needed a few stitches and the doctors at the hospital wanted her to call the authorities and report the sexual assault. London, embarrassed and ashamed, would have no part of the police. She didn’t confide in anyone except Fatima the true identity of who she knew had drugged and ultimately violated her.

  When London revealed to Fatima the rapist’s name she was pissed all the way the fuck off. When she went to get London’s class drop slip signed from the professor’s bitch-ass, Fatima spit directly in his face, daring him to do or say something. Knowing he’d get undoubtedly fired or, worse than that, arrested and thrown in jail if the news of his dirty deed surfaced for all to know, he remained silent. He knew at this point, with Fatima’s saliva dripping down his face, it was true; he couldn’t say or do anything for fear of any police involvement. The professor, usually in total control of his antics, didn’t know how he’d let shit get so out of control this time. Lowering his head in shame, he just signed the withdraw slip and wiped his face off with a napkin.

  London, after a short time recuperating, made her way to the rest of her classes that semester, and, although she was mentally stressed, maintained fairly good grades all things considered. Wanting to forget the entire tragic event, she finally made it to a few of those socially conscious meetings that she’d missed that night six months ago.

  When Thanksgiving came, as well as Christmas, London had gone home with Fatima. It was nice being around a family, a real family, with people who loved each other. Fatima’s family were Muslim and didn’t celebrate Christmas but they still got together for a big dinner so they could all bond and catch one another up on their current activities. London, engulfed in the atmosphere of family, could tell where Fatima got her caring ways.

  Besides a few calls here and there, it was like she had cut herself off entirely from her own small-sized family. Her uncle had his woman still send her money every now and then when she could, even though her man had gotten knocked again and was serving time. This bid unfortunately was for more than just a few months. He was doing a few years on a probation violation so any direct contact he had with London was limited to none.

  It would soon be spring break and London would
be going home for the first time since school had begun the previous year. Although she enjoyed college life despite what had happened between her and the professor, she did miss her twin sister Kenya. Sure they talked on the phone sometimes, but nothing could take the place of seeing her twin face to face. She needed to see her other half and make sure she was safe and sound.

  Kenya

  Kenya was doing it big at Heads Up. Ever since her first night of slinging that ass, she was getting more money than any other female in the spot. She was a topnotch dancer at the club and had multitudes of regulars who’d wait to give their money to her and only her. A lot of the other girls were mad jealous of her pole and twerking skills, but Kenya didn’t give a shit. She was there to make cash, not friends. Only her girl Raven was rolling with her in that motherfucker. The two of them were tight and got paid no matter what.

  “Hey, girl, you making that money tonight!” Old Skool was sitting at the bar with Kenya, nursing a drink.

  “Yeah, and you know it. I gotta get some new shit in my crib, maybe some heavy-duty steel doors or something like that.” Kenya was being careful and big on security. She knew that crackheads back in the hood knew that she was getting that dough.

  Zack walked over to his two favorite ladies in the club and kissed Old Skool on the cheek. “What you two over here scheming on?” Zack smiled as he attentively watched Raven up on the stage under the lights, wowing the crowd.

  “Well apparently Miss Tastey here needs to step up her paper game.” Old Skool put Kenya’s business out in the street.

  “Oh yeah, okay, what’s the problem, Tastey, what you need?” He focused his attention back to them.

  “Well, I think I need to switch up a little bit. I don’t want to get played out.” Caught up in the club life of mutual respect for a hardworking dancers’ world, she walked over to the stage and gave her girl some love. “Damn, why don’t you ho-ass niggas get ya panties out ya ass and tip a bitch?” She was going off on everyone within ear range who was gawking at Raven instead of throwing dollars. “What’s the problem? Did y’all losers leave your purses in the fucking car?”

  The DJ even had to laugh at that shit as Zack, Old Skool, and Brother Rasul, who just walked up, stood by, watching Kenya go hard.

  “Maybe we should think about putting Tastey on,” Zack pondered as Brother Rasul listened, not saying a word. “Kenya’s kinda green, but it might work if we work it right.”

  Having a special place in his heart for the way she would carry herself nightly if she felt she was being disrespected, Brother Rasul always looked out for Kenya since day one. Kenya was a true hustler, not like most of the dick handlers in the club he’d watch sell their bodies for an extra dollar or two. The young girl was all about the money and the business that came with it. Brother Rasul shook his head and walked away, not wanting any part of what Zack was about to do. Zack was his boy and all, but he hated the way he took advantage of some of the girls.

  Zack decided he would speak to her next week about what he and Old Skool had planned. Kenya was going to take a few days off to take care of some personal matters she claimed to have pending. He had no idea whatsoever that Kenya had a sister, let alone a twin. No one she worked with or for in the club knew about London. That was her life outside the strip club. They were two different worlds and Kenya planned to keep it that way for as long as possible.

  After her long double shift had ended, it was finally time to get off of work. Kenya, worn out, but elated, couldn’t wait to see her sister.

  Reunion

  Damn, I gotta hurry the fuck up and get all this stuff put away. There ain’t no way in hell I can have this place on the nut when London gets home. She might bug out and kill a bitch if she saw the mess that been piling in this house since she left. Kenya had taken time off from the club to initially clean the house and spend some quality time with her sister. London was coming home for spring break and the two hadn’t seen each other in months.

  After hours of washing dishes and cleaning top to bottom, Kenya was tired as shit. No sooner than the last dish was put away did she hear London’s key turn at the door.

  “Kenya!” London yelled as she made her way inside the front hallway.

  Kenya jumped from around the doorway and started smiling. “Girl, you know Gran told your butt not to yell in this house with your rude-ass!”

  They both ran to each other and hugged for what seemed like forever. Tears were flowing from both twins’ eyes. “I missed you so much,” they both said at the same time. “Me too.” Once again they said it together. It was like they were reading from a script or something. It was one of the things twins were famous for and these two were no different.

  When they finally got all of London’s bags in the house, they got a good look at one another and noticed some changes. Kenya didn’t have on her makeup and was dressed in sweats. Her nails were still manicured perfectly, but she just seemed so much more slowly paced than London had remembered. Being on display at the club ten hours a day made Kenya just want to relax more at home and take life easy. She learned how to love to be plain ol’ Kenya instead of flashy, flamboyant Tastey: queen of Heads Up.

  London, on the other hand, was different as well. There were a lot of huge visible changes. She had started wearing her shoulder-length hair down and wore clothes that were more suited for a girl her own age than someone’s grandmother. London wasn’t always outspoken, but now she was sure of herself and held her head up when she would speak. She was even downright loud as hell if need be to get her point across. Between Fatima’s coaching, her club and organization meetings, and that creep foul bullshit that Professor Kincade did, she’d become a much stronger individual. London was a new person with a new attitude, and it showed.

  “Okay, now tell me everything that has been happening around since I left. How are Carmen and Allan? Where is that no-good Ty? Tell me everything!” London was excited to be home as she plopped down on the couch, kicking her shoes off.

  Kenya was almost knocked off her feet by her sister’s newfound bubbly personality. “Damn, bitch, slow your roll!” She was laughing like crazy by this time and so was London. It was like old times when they were kids, but the tables had turned. The difference was now London was holding court and Kenya was sitting back enjoying the show.

  London told her sister all about Fatima and how she always had her back at school, how well her family had treated her on the holidays, and how she even had called Fatima’s mother “Mama James.”

  Initially Kenya was slightly jealous hearing about Fatima, but she had her own little family at the club so she understood where her twin was coming from. Her, Raven, Zack, Old Skool, and Brother Rasul were just like family at Heads Up. Shit, Old Skool had even cooked a gigantic Thanksgiving dinner for them and all the dancers who didn’t have or were shunned from their biological family. Even if they did eat it at the club at the same tables they’d shake their naked asses on, it was still all good. They were together and to Kenya that meant something.

  London begged Kenya to promise not to get upset when she confessed to her about the brutal rape and the physical and mental condition it had left her in. By the time London bravely finished the story, all hell was about to break loose. She had to beg her sister to slow the fuck down. Kenya was screaming about calling someone named Brother Rasul to kill Professor Kincade and his whole generation by nightfall or as long as it took to drive back up to the university. After nearly fifteen minutes of trying to calm her twin down, London finally got a chance to ask her sister one question, which was, “Who in the heck is Brother Rasul?”

  That opened the door for Kenya to tell her about her job and her new friends. Kenya explained to her sister how her new friends were a little different than a traditional family, but they all cared about each other. She explained to her how Brother Rasul taught her about Islam and how she told him about what the Bible meant to her.

  London, who learned about the Islamic faith from Fatima, liste
ned with an open mind as Kenya went on to tell her how Zack taught both her and Raven about accounting, so when they started their own business, no one could cheat them. London also soon found out that Kenya was even godmother to Raven’s infant son, Jaylin. Kenya said she loved Jaylin just like he was her very own flesh and blood. She wanted the very best for him and even paid for his daycare when Raven would be short.

  Though London might not have agreed with her sister’s choice of work to make a living, she was glad that she had love in her heart for someone other than herself. London was happy to learn her twin had thankfully got rid of that self-serving Ty and even happier to learn that Carmen and Allan had gotten a place together on the east side of Detroit and were in school trying to get degrees.

  “Okay, what about Amber? Where is she? Have you seen her lately?” London was worried about her best friend. “Last time I called her number a recording came on saying it was disconnected. I called her job and they told me she got fired.”

  Kenya hated to tell her what she really knew about Amber, so instead she put on her shoes and had London to walk to the store with her. When they reached Linwood Avenue and turned the corner, London glanced around, and surveyed the neighborhood. She could tell that much had not changed.

  “Same blight, same drunks, same crackheads. We need to do something to help our people,” she sadly remarked.

  No sooner than those words came out of her mouth did they run into what Kenya didn’t want to say: it was Amber. She looked torn the fuck up! Her hair was nappy and she smelled just like, like . . . fuck it, you know! The bitch was foul, a real shit bag! Kenya was overwhelmed and nauseated by the awful stench that surrounded Amber’s every step. Her eyes watered from the repulsive aroma that filled the air and she quickly turned away so she wouldn’t pass out from having to hold her breath.