Just Can't Let Go

by Mary B. Morrison

Spencer had also surprised me with a night’s stay in a suite at the Mandarin. That was the time I looked him in his eyes and lied. When he’d asked, “Have you had sex with any other man since we’d met,” I told him no. Most women in my position would’ve done the same.

  Maybe his holding the ring in front of me convinced me to lie. Or that I was afraid to lose him convinced me to tell Spencer what I knew he wanted to hear. Regardless of my reasons, I lied like a man . . . with a straight face. I made a vow to myself never to deceive Bing.

  I said aloud, “Hey, baby.” No, that didn’t sound right.

  “Hello, handsome. You want to explore paradise with me tonight?” I said, then sniffed the rose.

  That sounded better. I’d taken a bath. I was ready to initiate phone sex with Bing, but I wanted him to call me.

  The tone from my phone made me smile. It was the new love of my life. I answered, “Thank you for the gorgeous flowers.”

  “You are truly welcome. My apology for not getting back to you sooner. One thing after another came up. How was the drive? You settled in?”

  Hearing him acknowledge he’d promised to call me back made me feel better. Why didn’t more men do that? To a woman, the little things were important in a relationship.

  “It was peaceful. Listened to music. Didn’t talk to anyone on the phone. Thought about you. Us. How did you have flowers delivered before I got here?”

  “I have my way of doing things. When are you coming back to Atlanta?”

  “Saturday,” I said, hoping he’d be the first person I’d connect with.

  “Can you fly in on Friday?”

  Soon as he’d said Friday, I remembered that I’d forgotten to call his assistant to schedule my flight to Paris. Softly, I told him, “I can do that.”

  “Great. Text me your departure availability. I’ll arrange your flight on my jet and I’ll have a driver pick you up at your place in Charlotte so you can relax.”

  I felt myself frowning and smiling at the same time. “Okay. Thank you,” I said, hoping he’d mention Paris. I really wanted to go there with him.

  “Get some rest, baby. You probably have a long day ahead of you. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”

  “Okay. Good night.”

  What had I done to attract this man?

  CHAPTER 49

  Alexis

  “James, you’re a really nice man.”

  Chanel sat on one end of my sofa, James on the other. I was in the middle. After meeting up earlier, I invited them to my place. They shared two bottles of champagne and were on bottle number three.

  It was two in the morning. “I can’t believe we’re getting ready to watch the last episode of Love & Hip Hop,” I said, pressing the button on my remote to “play next.”

  “For real,” James commented. “Y’all got me hooked. Alexis, you know I do not tune in to these types of insane asylums.”

  Starting with the first hour of this season, we laughed and commented on all the ratchetness. Erica and Cyn reminded me of Chanel and my relationship. I couldn’t say any of the men compared to James. Had to give James due respect for not being like Rich or Peter. I always believed that not many situations were meant to last forever.

  People lied too much.

  Brunch at Copeland’s earlier was delicious. The catfish nuggets were the best. I don’t usually eat fried but I had two helpings along with the red beans and rice, jambalaya, cheese grits, bacon, sausage, eggs, ham, and bread pudding. I did not need another thing in my mouth unless it was a pussy or a dick.

  Touching Chanel’s thigh, I slowly moved my fingers up and down. She didn’t move my hand. I squeezed James’s thigh, working my way up to his balls. They became quiet.

  If I requested their permission for a threesome, they probably wouldn’t, but I could tell they were okay with my initiating one. Wasn’t sure if it were all the liquor they’d consumed, or if the idea was on their mind too.

  I teased Chanel’s nipple while massaging James’s dick. They stared at the television. No one protested.

  “Baby, stand up,” I said, looking at James.

  He did without hesitation. I unfastened his belt. Unzipped his pants. Pushed him onto the sofa. I went to the bathroom, lathered up a towel, soaked another with water only.

  When I returned to the living room, Chanel was stroking James’s dick. I cleaned him up, took the towels to the bathroom. When I returned this time, Chanel was on her knees, between James’s legs, sucking his dick.

  I knelt beside her. She pointed his engorged head at me. I eased it in and out of my mouth. Gave it back to her. From the expression on his face to the placement of his arms, James was like a mime.

  Chanel placed his hand on her breast. I put his other hand on mine. She stroked his shaft. I sucked his head. I stroked his dick, she licked his head with that wicked tongue of hers.

  “You want to fuck my girl?” I asked him.

  His eyes widened.

  “C, get doggie style on the sofa for James,” I told her.

  She did. I didn’t have to tell James to get behind Chanel or penetrate her. He was already inside. I went to the bathroom, got two fresh towels, cleansed his ass. This time I tossed the towels on the hardwood floor.

  Kneeling behind James, I kissed and licked his asshole each time he penetrated Chanel.

  “Aw, man. This shit is the best. I don’t want to cum yet,” he said, slowing his pace.

  I massaged his nuts while licking his asshole. Gradually he picked up momentum. I maintained my pace. Right when he yelled, “I’m about to cum,” I slowly inserted my pointing finger all the way in his ass.

  If it wouldn’t have altered the rhythm, I would’ve strapped on and did my man while he was fucking my gurl. I could do that next time.

  James screamed for at least thirty seconds straight before collapsing on top of Chanel. I picked up the towels, went to the bathroom. Got a plastic pan from under the vanity. Got a pregnancy test. Went into the living room.

  Chanel stared at me. I open the packet, pissed on the stick, handed it to James, picked up the pan with urine in it, then went back to the bathroom. Flushing the pee down the toilet, I undressed, then got in the shower.

  I heard footsteps. Chanel entered the bathroom, got in the shower with me. Washing my back, she said, “What’s going on? James already knows you are not expecting.”

  This woman was so polite. “It’s a long story. I had a miscarriage and now I’m pregnant again.”

  Chanel stopped bathing me. “This is really real?” she asked.

  “Yes, you saw the results.”

  “Are you sure James is the father?”

  I nodded. “Positive.”

  “James?”

  I nodded. “Yes, James.”

  Chanel said, “I want to have his baby too. We can be one big happy family.”

  I gave her a hug. That shit would never work.

  CHAPTER 50

  Ebony

  #cantsleep #thirsty #getyourmindoutofthegutter #iamebonywater house

  I was starting to feel like I was married to Phoenix. Wouldn’t want to trade places with Devereaux. It was three o’clock in the morning and her man was in my bed snoring as though he had ten jobs when he didn’t have one.

  We’d passed out shortly after having sex. Phoenix was still my guy, but I had to admit Spencer was better at sexing me. I bet a getaway with Spencer would be fun. Phoenix was scared to travel outside a thirty-mile radius from Devereaux.

  I texted Spencer, Wanna go to Miami or Nassau next weekend? Your treat.

  Spencer was supposed to be my boy toy. He didn’t know that while my husband was jacking off, Buster was turned on by him, not me. Had to keep that part a secret.

  He texted back, I got you. Confirm when and where and we’re there.

  I wanted out of my situation with Phoenix. Since his mother went out of town, our going to restaurants had turned into my picking up takeout for him and his daughter. Phoenix was ungrateful. Complained about what
Nya didn’t like to eat. We needed a break.

  Tapping his shoulder, I said, “My babe, wake up.”

  “Huh,” he said, rolling onto his other side.

  I shoved his back. “Phoenix, wake up.”

  Facing me, he opened his eyes. “What, Goldie? Give me a few minutes to recover.”

  “I’m going downstairs to get something to drink. You want anything?”

  “Yes, put your pussy on a platter and serve me,” he said, then chuckled. “Bring me a glass of crushed ice, my babe.”

  That meant he wanted me to suck his dick with my mouth filled with ice. I didn’t mind but not now. I had to get some rest. He needed to leave. Maybe his plan was to wait until Devereaux left for work so he didn’t have to deal with her right away.

  Earlier I turnt up to please Phoenix. He was upset that Devereaux had initiated sex, then walked out on him before he came. Phoenix closed his eyes.

  Trotting downstairs, I was glad Buster didn’t want children. Passing through the kitchen, I went to check on Nya. The bedroom door was open, the covers were ruffled, but I didn’t see the little girl. Turning on the light, I checked the closet, under the bed. I turned on every light downstairs, looked in every room.

  Called out, “Nya, sweetheart. Where are you?”

  Maybe I misunderstood Phoenix when I came in last night.

  I filled his glass with ice only, mine with ice and water, then headed back upstairs. He was flat on his back and snoring.

  “Wake up,” I said, shaking him.

  He took my glass of water. Started drinking it. “Thanks.”

  I placed his cup of ice on the nightstand. “I thought you told me Nya was here.”

  “She is. She’s downstairs in the bedroom.”

  Slowly I moved my head side to side. He stared at me for two seconds, dropped his glass in my bed, then rushed down the steps. I followed him.

  Frantically he stripped the sheets away from the bed, got on his knees. “Lord, this can’t be happening to me,” he prayed, searching under the bed.

  I pushed back the curtains, tried to lift the window. “No one came through here. It’s locked.”

  Phoenix ripped clothes from hangers in my closet as he yelled, “Nya! Where are you?! Ny-ya!” He sounded like the Geico gecko in the flat tire commercial.

  In my back-in-the-day, loud, high school cheerleading voice, I called her name too. “Maybe she got confused and left out of the wrong door. I’ll check out front, you search the garage.”

  Where would an almost three-year-old hide?

  We went from downstairs to upstairs and back down for an hour. Phoenix cried out, “What the fuck! Where is my baby girl?”

  Calmly, I tried to reassure him. “We’ll find her. Let me get my phone. I’m calling the police.”

  Phoenix grabbed my hand. “Dev is going to kill me.”

  “Better for Dev to kill you than for Nya to end up dead. This missing little girl is not about you. Does Nya know her address or your or Devereaux’s cell number?”

  “Yes, my mother taught her.”

  “Okay, that’s good.”

  “Ebony! Shut the fuck up! If you had brought your ass home on time, I’d be at home right now! With Nya!”

  I stared at him. “You ingrate! Get the fuck out of my house, but give me my key first.”

  “Babe, I’m sorry. I apologize.” Phoenix pleaded, “Please give me a moment to clear my head. I’ll figure this out.” He sat on the sofa staring at the wall.

  Conveniently, he ignored my demand for my house key. I didn’t want to add to his frustrations at this moment but this relationship was over.

  I told him, “Get up. We can’t sit here and do nothing. We have to find her. Let’s get dressed and drive through the neighborhood.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Phoenix

  This was the worst day of my life and it was all my mom’s fault. Driving around my own neighborhood until four in the morning, there were no signs of Nya. Dev hadn’t contacted me. She was probably home asleep. How was I going to tell her I couldn’t find our daughter?

  “Let’s go back to your place. If someone finds Nya before I tell Dev Nya is missing, I might have to come stay with you.” I yelled, “Fuck!”

  Ebony yelled back, “Damn, Phoenix!” She slammed on her brakes. “Don’t do that shit. You scared the hell out of me.”

  Whoop. Whoop. Blue lights twirled behind us. Ebony parked in front of a home a few blocks away from hers.

  “Great,” I said as an officer approached the driver’s side.

  Ebony lowered her window and mine. “Just be cool. We didn’t do anything wrong,” she said to me what I should’ve told her.

  The officer flashed his light in the car. “License, registration, and insurance, ma’am.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ebony said, gathering all three from her glove compartment.

  “Where are you guys headed?” the officer questioned.

  His light was blinding me. I remained quiet. Didn’t want to explain how my child came up missing while I was at my side’s home fucking the shit out of her. Publicity would be bad for Ebony, too, if we were caught together at this hour.

  “May I ask why you stopped us, Officer?” Ebony questioned, handing him her information.

  “There has been several reports of someone repeatedly cruising the area.” He asked again, “Where are you guys headed?”

  Say something, I thought, staring at Ebony. She was quiet.

  In a firm tone, the officer said, “Sir. Ma’am. Step out of the car.”

  I memorized his badge number. Eyed his name. D. Remick. White guy. Blond hair. Clean shaved.

  “Have you been drinking?” he asked me.

  What the fuck difference did that make! I was not the one driving. “No,” was all I said.

  Another patrol car double-parked in the middle of the street next to us. A female officer got out, approached us. She looked at Ebony, then smiled, and then told officer D. Remick, “It’s okay. This is Ebony Waterhouse. Gurl, are we going to see this on television? Am I being filmed?” Jokingly, she glanced around. “Is this a Sophisticated Side Chick ATL undercover wink-wink moment? He one of your sides? Okay, I am kidding. But seriously, can I get your autograph? I’m loving your pilot previews.” Then she asked the other officer, “Did they do anything illegal?”

  I should’ve been glad this female cop was in a jovial mood, but my jaws were tight. It wasn’t Ebony’s show. It was Dev’s. Ebony signed a piece of paper to work for my fiancée.

  Remick got in his car. The female officer thanked Ebony, then drove off. I was on mute until Ebony pulled into her driveway.

  “I’ll call you later,” I told her. Getting in my car, I drove to the gas station on Peachtree Street. Sat in my car.

  An idea came to mind. I called Dev.

  The second she sleepily said, “Hello,” frantically, I started lying.

  “Dev, I don’t want you to panic. I need you to meet me at the Chevron by our house.”

  “Phoenix, I have to get up in a few hours. Are you okay?”

  What the fuck? I was out until after four in the morning, I was hysterical, and all she cared about was her having to get up early?

  “I’m fine. It’s Nya, babe.”

  Dev screamed, “Nya! What about Nya?”

  Now I had her attention. “I need you to come now. Chevron station by our house.”

  Ending the call with Dev, I went into the convenience store. Browsed. Purchased a soda, candy, chips, and handed the attendant my credit card for a fill-up on pump number three.

  I took my time, snacked on the corn chips while waiting for the pump to stop. Went back inside the convenience store. Browsed. Closed out my transaction.

  I went outside, started crying. Running into the store, I said, “Man, my daughter is missing from her car seat. I was only in here for a few minutes. Did you see anything?”

  “I cannot come from behind here. I will call the cops for you.”

  I ra
n to my car, dialed 911.

  “911 operator, is this an emergency?”

  My voice trembled. I cried and sniffled at the same time, “Oh, my, God! Help me, Jesus! My two-year-old daughter has been kidnapped!”

  CHAPTER 52

  Devereaux

  It felt good to rest in my bed for an hour. I’d left Nya with Mercedes.

  When the call came in from Phoenix, Dakota told me to keep on my nightgown, robe, bonnet, and wear my slippers to make my response appear urgent.

  Turning onto Peachtree, several police cars were pulling into the gas station. Dakota was a short distance in front of me. She drove into the station’s lot, backed into a space in front of the store. I whipped my car into the station, slammed on the brakes, stopped inches behind Phoenix’s car, left my engine running, and hurried to him.

  Phoenix’s eyes were blood red. Tears poured down his cheeks. I screamed, “Where’s my baby!”

  An officer approached us.

  Searching Phoenix’s car, frantically I cried, “Where’s my baby?” Pounding his chest, I yelled, “Where is Nya!”

  The officer told me, “Miss, calm down. We’re going to help you. Who called 911?”

  “I did,” Phoenix said, wiping his snotty nose.

  This is the first time I wanted to punch him in the face.

  As the policeman said, “Sir, tell me what happened,” another cop walked up to us.

  Shifting my eyes, I saw Dakota get out of her car. She started speaking with an officer who had just pulled up.

  Phoenix sniffled as he explained, “Our daughter was asleep in her car seat. I came here to get gas.”

  The officer interrupted, “Do you have your receipt?”

  Phoenix handed him a piece of paper. The officer looked at it, then at Phoenix.

  “Did you fill up, sir?”

  “I did, Officer.”

  “Six dollars filled you up?”

  This guy was good. There was a blank expression on Phoenix’s face.

  I asked, “Baby, the officer questioned if six dollars filled you up?”

  Phoenix started sweating as he answered, “Yes.”

  “So what happened next?” the officer asked.

  Phoenix seemed relieved that he could continue with his lie. “I went inside, picked up a few snacks and a drink, then gave my credit card to the cashier. I came out here, pumped my gas. Went back inside, picked up some chips, paid for everything, then I came outside. Something told me to check on my daughter. That’s when I noticed she was missing.”