"Oh hell naw! I got to talk to her ass!"
"It ain't gone do no good! Shawn and I both, have talked to her until we were blue in the face - and if she's pregnant again, that nails it."
Just then Shawn came into the kitchen, "Ladies..." He winked at Sheila and threw Sylvia an air kiss on the way to the refrigerator.
"I was just telling Sheila about Crystal, that you and I did all we could to get her to stay here."
"Yep... true." He confirmed taking a beer from the rack.
"I'm still gone have to talk to her. Maybe I can knock it loose, whatever the hell done lodged up in her head."
"Be my guest," Shawn supported, using a bottle opener to pop the cap off of his beer, needing to give the impression he'd be in for the night, he took a small sip, leaning against the counter, as if to hang with the women a bit.
"Don't waste your time, have you heard anything I said? She probably pregnant - again."
Shawn shivered at the thought, shaking his head.
"Damn that's messed up!" Sheila was with him.
"Just remember, when Ben is around, please don't bring her up - especially this new revelation, that would really send that poor boy over."
The phone rang.
"What - a mess."
"You tellin'me - I try not to think about it, hoping this one's a false alarm." Sylvia muttered aloud, side stepping towards the phone on the wall, answering it, "McPherson's residence?"
"Hey there, where my wife at?"
"Hey Dennis - she right here." Sylvia stepped back along the counter and passed Sheila the phone.
Sylvia glanced over her shoulder, back at her husband, who stood behind her, winking, flirting, tossing her an air kiss again, eyeing her rear; chuckling when Sylvia stuck her tongue out at him and tipped her nose in the air, even so, she was unable to contain the grin that flashed across her features while Sheila spoke on the phone.
"What? Oh great, now how much is that gonna cost us?" They heard her ask.
Shawn perked up, listening, lifting a brow at Sheila as if to ask, 'What's wrong?'
"Hang on babe," Sheila paused with Dennis, speaking to Shawn, "Alternator on his truck died - he supposed to be coming up here tomorrow." She then went back to Dennis, "Now what? You still coming for the wedding right?"
Sylvia suggested, "Tell'im hop on the Amtrak!"
Sheila snapped her fingers and pointed for the good idea, "Oh, babe, park that truck for now and hop on the Amtrak."
"Hell with that, tell'im I'll come and get him." Shawn spoke up, then went to Sheila with his hand out, "Here, pass me the phone."
"Babe, Shawn wanna speak to you."
With the phone in hand, Shawn began, "Hey man, hell with Amtrak, throw your shit together, I'll be down there tonight for you." He announced in front of the women; Sylvia watching and listening; "Wait - Shawn, my parents coming down tomorrow, why can't he get a ride with them?" She suggested.
"Hang on man," He paused with Dennis, turning to Sylvia, "Where is he gonna fit in your father's truck? You know your dad, any opportunity to make some extra with a tow, he will." He reminded her, and went back to speaking with Dennis, "I'll be leaving here in about fifteen minutes; see you when I get there."
On the other end, Dennis was chuckling, shaking his head, "Man, yo' ass scandalous as they come! Yeah, see you in a bit."
Shawn hung up, "Well - let me-..."
"You been drinking, Shawn." Sylvia gestured towards the beer in his hand.
"I barely took a sip out of this, no big deal." He walked to the sink, pouring it down, and leaned over and kissed her brow, "See you when I get back, love you." He stroked her butt, gave it a squeeze and headed down the hall and up the stairs to their bedroom to get ready.
She looked back to Sheila, "Well I guess, that's that."
"That's better anyway, then we can all ride home together instead of him in his truck."
Sylvia nodded, not giving it another thought.
Chapter 302
Chicago...
Four hours later, Shawn pulled up in front of Dennis' and Sheila's home; he sat in the SUV waiting after tooting the horn one time, parking there to wait; a couple of seconds later, Dennis was coming out and locking his door.
It was late, after midnight in fact.
Opening the door, Dennis climbed in saying, "Man, all while I was waiting, I was thinking of all kinds of ways to short cut this."
"I've had my mind on nothing else but." Shawn went on to tell him about both conversations he'd had with Paul, and how it ended, what he was planning to do. "I'm trying to decide, do I tell her parents? Do I confide in them, or do I just keep this between us, you and I?" Shawn shared his dilemma.
"For now, let's keep it between us."
"I feel bad Dennis, they're out there searching for their son, when we both have good reason to believe, his sister already buried him."
Dennis threw his head back against the leather interior, "Man, this the most fucked up shit I've ever had to face in my whole goddamn life!"
"You've led a sheltered life." Shawn mumbled in response.
"Yeah, I guess so; I'll be honest with you, one side of me, says, stay out of it Dennis, stay out. You got your wife, you got your good thing going on, life's good, can't say it's been anything else - so why mess with it?"
Shawn sighed, nodding his head, "Makes sense. You know, you really should probably, avoid me - like the plague." Shawn glanced his way as if giving him a chance to withdraw from it all.
Dennis smiled, then chuckled, "You ain't the devil you know?"
"You sure about that? I've been into some serious shit Dennis, have done things - well, maybe you should rethink this; I've thought about it; that I shouldn't bring you in the middle of it - has nothing to do with you."
"Bullshit - I got in the middle the day I fell for Sheila Murray - and seeing her friend put through more shit than any woman should be put through by any man. My wife, loves her some Sylvia, loves her some Vivian. Those two women, are her sisters. At times, Vivian like her daughter." He chuckled, thinking about them, their years together. "The only fly in the ointment, was Armundo Edgar Payne Sr. he's the nastiest motha'fucka I know - I can't remember hating anyone, more than I did him." Dennis stopped, thinking, he glanced Shawn's way, "Someone like him, needs the devil to deal with him, so if that's you, for now - I'm with you. If that sonofabitch ain't dead - and he come back after all this time - I don't even wanna think about the shit he gone bring back with him."
Shawn sat quiet staring out the windshield at the dark night surrounding them, quiet on the block, all for the occasional one coming home; he didn't see them however, he saw Crystal. As much as Armundo had done to Sylvia, as much as he'd neglected his son, mistreated him, he didn't think either of them had suffered as much as Crystal. Daughter's were precious. They simply were. His mother, had been a daughter cherished by her father - and he could see that she had been spoiled by the way she was, is - to this day. His father, despite what he'd done to him, his brothers - had treasured, cherished, doted on, spoiled, tolerated and babied his sisters. It simply was not in him to see any other way of treating a child, your child, a daughter. So Armundo came off looking evil to him - one had to be evil to destroy such a beautiful creation as his own daughter - who should be held, hugged, rocked and cherished. It brought tears to his eyes just thinking about the things he knew, things he'd done to her. The evidence of his actions were clear to see as she manifested the damage he'd done.
No, he could not let him return from the dead - what would his return, do to her?
Shawn knew that he loved her, loved her because she was so much like him, for so many reasons - and to the pit of his being, she felt like his daughter - if someone made him explain that, he wouldn't be able to - but he knew that he felt it - his concerns and fears for her, gripped him the same as if all had been surrounding Angela.
"Dennis..." He finally spoke from being lost in thought, breaking into the other man's thoughts, "I'm learni
ng things about him, that I can't share with you, due to the nature of it; but I will tell you this, if he lives - I have to find him, and if no one else will - I'm gonna have to kill'im. There's too much of my family's peace at stake here."
"He supposed to be dead anyway, okay? I'm gone tell you now, if it were me, I'm afraid I'd have to do the same. I'm in - all the way, because you can't do it alone. So, where we going first?"
"You said you knew the guy he ripped off? Know anything about him?"
"Dealer, Latino - used to live in this big house, right across the boulevard from Sylvia's mother. That area used to be dominated first by whites, then Spanish, Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, some Cubans. Like the rest that left, he moved off further North - to an area predominantly Spanish; a few blacks mixed in there. As for him, he pretty much like any other - territorial, can be dangerous, successful in the business. Check this out, he and Armundo, used to be friends. They started out the same, doing some dealing here and there; name, Xavier Alvarez."
Shawn shook his head laughing, "So he even sucks as a friend." He commented.
"Pretty much - thing is - Xavier - had a lil'thing for Sylvia too, he was more of a gentleman towards the ladies - if she'd let him, he would have taken her off Armundo because he knew he was rough with her. I'm thinking, Armundo knew this shit - you see. Got a feeling that helped fuel the way he treated her; because he knew his friend wanted her, and had he gotten her, would have treated her better. Also, I'm thinking, that's why he took his shit - thinking, you went after my woman, I'm gone take yo'shit! Know what I'm saying?"
Shawn shook his head, "Fucked up all around."
"Yeah, pretty much. After Armundo's so called death, he was all in her face, wanting to, 'take care of her'. She of course, wasn't interested - he gave up, because she up and left Chicago."
"So he didn't try to hold it against her for Armundo taking him?"
"Nooo, he knew Sylvia wasn't like that. She ain't want nothing to do with that shit."
Shawn nodded, thinking about it, "So what does he think happened with his stuff?"
"Probably that Armundo hid it away somewhere, then crashed and it's just - out there, not sure about that to be honest."
Shawn rubbed his hand over his face, fighting back the sensation of being a bit tired. Too many nights of waking up and being unable to get back to sleep was climbing his back once more. "I think I wanna meet up with this guy, Xavier - plant a bug in his ear of what might be."
"Personally, I think we need to have something before we face him."
"How do you think he'll respond to me, that I'm now married to Sylvia?"
"He's married now, got a kid of his own. I see him around, he looks me in the eye, nods, I do the same. He respects those, that respects him, for the most part, he leaves people alone - he stays low key, quiet, watchful, and if you step on him, he strikes like a snake."
"I like him already." Shawn commented, reaching forward, starting the Navigator, "I wanna go by his mother's place, just to see it. Found it on Google maps."
"No problem, I get you there."
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up in front of Armundo's mother's home; she owned it now and there were things about it that looked different to Dennis, "Hang on here - that's interesting." Her murmured in observation.
"What's that?"
"Looks brand new. It used to have this shitty outer wood frame panels; jacked up front porch - now - all new aluminium siding on it, front porch new, outside lights, and if I'm seeing right, a new roof on it. New wrought iron fence around it - aaah shit." Dennis sat back and looked over at Shawn. "Looks like mama done come into some money." He commented.
"How long has it been since you saw this place?"
"Put it this way, it didn't look like this when he died, on his funeral."
"Maybe he had a policy and left her money as well Sylvia."
"May be - because one thing certain, her place didn't look like this 3 years ago."
Their eyes met in the dark vehicle.
"What's her name?"
"Esperanza."
Shawn sat thinking, nodding his head and slowly pulled off down the road, leaving it, but marking it's location in his head. "I'm tired, we better get back to your place, get some sleep. In the morning, I wanna go by his grave, I wanna see it."
"No problem, I can take you there too."
* * *
*Can I call you? Please?* The text read.
Ben lay in bed at his grandparents, he'd dozed off with his phone in hand, because he'd been fighting not to call her. It vibrated, made him look up, lift his hand and read his small screen, he had a message. Clicking it open, he stared at it.
He knew that Victor left for work at 10:30pm.
He knew that, despite her going back to him, they were still divorced.
He knew - that he still loved her more than he could bear sometimes.
He knew - that she loved him - but not enough - to leave Victor for him.
He hurt with a kind of hurt that he'd never imagined the human body could actually feel - endure - he hurt all over. He couldn't understand the power of it. A tear rolled from the side of his eye and he let it roll; needing the slight feeling of the moisture that trailed down his skin, it was a momentary distraction from what was going on inside his head, inside his soul.
To see her standing by his vehicle - waiting for him, seeking him out - messed with his heart, his head, his stomach. He was trying to fight it, his love for her was tearing him up inside. She knew he was trying to fight it, trying to kill it; but she wouldn't let it die. Her words came back to him now as he lay awake, 'You said, you loved me.' his heart was doing it again, beating him up from within. With his arm still suspended above him, he stared, feeling the strange invisible link between them, because in a sense, they were connected, even if only by the phone he held in his hand with her plea there for him to read.
He wanted to ignore it.
However, walking away from her earlier, hurt just as bad as if he'd stayed.
Maybe he should have walked up to her, stared into her eyes and said to her, 'You said you loved me.' Yet, what difference would it have made? In a way, he had no one to blame but himself. She'd always been honest with him, right from the start. She'd always said, she'd just wanted to be friends, even while they were falling in love. She'd tried to keep him at a distance, but he'd pushed, and worked and hoped and prayed that all he did, would bring her around. Then he'd come back, Victor, and blown everything straight to hell. He stared some more, as more tears gathered and rolled; suddenly he wiped them, sick of himself, sick of feeling this way. Maybe he should be more like other guys he knew, blocked what she said, who she was, what she felt, got what he wanted out of her, and then walked away.
The moment the idea came to him, he dismissed it - because what he wanted, was her, her love, her devotion, her loyalty, her heart and soul - that's what he wanted, more than anything in the world - so that this pain would stop.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath, he opened them and clicked the green phone dialer by her name and brought the phone down to his ear. It rang twice, and then ... silence... followed by a catch and a deep breath.
"Ben..."
He closed his eyes as the sound of her voice saying his name rushed through his body like a mountain spring, cool, clean, refreshing; he gulped, cleared his throat, "Yeah ... Ben, that's me - what do you want?" He wanted to be mean to her; he wanted her to feel what he was feeling right then as the realization that he was completely - totally out of control as far as his emotions were concerned.
"Don't - be so cold Ben, that's not you..." She whispered softly.
"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf - because right now - it sucks - being me. What - do you want?"
"I want you - not to do me this way." She admitted the first thing that came to her mind.
"Ha! Well you don't say ... me - not to do you - this way, hmph." He shook his head, "You got some nerve..." He murmured low,
"You got some nerve..." He repeated, "... he gone to work, that why you wanna talk to me?"
"I miss you, Ben."
"Bullshit! Bull - shit! What do you want from me? Huh? What do you want? You made your choice - so fuckin' live with it!"
She went quiet, holding the phone, holding her breath.
He slowed his breathing because she'd gone quiet, he was trying to hear her, hear what she might be doing; as it occurred to him that he was still doing it; still longing, needing, like a pitiful beggar, his anger returned, with a hiss he protested, "Jesus Christ! You're fuckin' twisting my guts so I can't breathe! What - the hell - do you want from me? Huh? What the fuck do you want?"
She started crying softly, "You - to make me - feel better, I just need-..."
"You need - you need - well guess fuckin' what - I need too dammit! I need too!" He hissed low into the phone, "I tried to love you, I tried - and all I got for it - was a kick in the teeth! You're fuckin' me up in ways I never knew someone could! YOU!"
"Why can't we be friends..." She pleaded low.
"Friends? Friends don't - hurt each other!" He bit out.
"Exactly - so why are you hurting me?" She asked, sniffing.
"I'm hurting you?" He asked incredulous, "I'm the one - hurting you? What about the way you're destroying me? I passed hurt days ago! What do you plan to do, FRIEND - to make me feel better, huh? Friend!?"
She went silent on him again, all he could hear was her sniffing - they both held the phones, neither speaking, and yet, neither could bring themselves to hang up. Moments went by in the silence until finally she spoke, so soft, so low, he had to press the phone tight against his ear and hang on to her every word, or miss something. "I never thought, I'd find someone like you. What I'm putting you through, I never intended it - to be this way. I - I just - oh ... never mind, goodbye, Ben." She clicked off.
He sat up in bed, rocking, bracing, holding the phone, tensing his body, shaking with a need to call her back. He stood, began pacing, he didn't want to call her back, he wanted to go to her. Not just go to her, he wanted to pull up, snatch her from his home, take her away, and fuck the daylights out of her wherever they ended up. Maybe then, maybe after that - she'd be able to walk away from him - Victor! Maybe that's where he'd gone wrong, acting like a gentleman, treating her with kid gloves. Maybe he needed to tear away all the gentle shit and just dive into her body, into her soul and take over her so that Victor became a distant memory. The idea of it, brought on a long, tight and hard erection; his hand went to his thick, large head, throbbing with heat. He closed his eyes, seeing her, smelling her - the way she was in his car. She'd wanted him then; she'd been unable to control her need. Just as he, right then, was unable to control the need to release what would not go away - the erection was there to stay unless he saw to it. Moments later, after bringing his breathing down, wiping up after himself, he shook his head in wonder - how could it have been weeks and weeks ago, a couple of months in fact that they'd come together like that, and it still be so fresh in his mind? Why was his need for her not weakening? Why wasn't he feeling less for her, instead of more? Why couldn't he get her out of his head?!
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