Bi-Sensual

by Nikki- Michelle

  “Crazy thing was, I felt the same way. I’d already busted her father’s face to show how out of my mind I was to get her back. Demi was my mirror. We bonded over the loss of the same woman. He understood my pain, and I was more than willing to keep him company in his misery. Truth be told, I probably stayed with him to make sure he didn’t get her back, and he probably stayed with me for the same reason. Neither one of us realized she was never coming back to either of us.”

  Mona was pacing the floor. “This is crazy,” she said.

  “If love ain’t ever driven you crazy, then you ain’t ever been in love,” Demi said, his eyes locked on his Shelle, my Nicole.

  Mona asked, “So your name is Nicole Shelle Newsam?”

  “Nicole Michelle Goins now. Demi didn’t like that everyone called me Nicole. So he started calling me Shelle way back when we first started dating. It was his way of making our bond special,” Nicole explained.

  “This is nuts. This is absolutely insane,” Mona said.

  “Welcome to my world,” Nicole said to her.

  Mona

  “And somewhere in the back of my mind, I still believe they knew all along. Like they put this elaborate plan together to fuck with me,” Nicole said.

  As she talked, her eyes stayed squarely on Demi. I was stuck in the twilight zone. I couldn’t wrap my mind around this. Before I came upstairs, I’d stood in the lobby, next to Demitri, dumbfounded. What I’d been thinking couldn’t be true. No way. The world had spun around me while I stood still in that lobby.

  I’d kept thinking back to those videos. In one of those videos, Nicole’s friend had said something about a boy with a girl’s name. Elliot called Demitri Demi. As in Demi Moore. As in Demi Lovato. The boy with the girl’s name. I gawked at Demitri. I saw him, but I didn’t see him. He was asking me something, but I couldn’t hear him. I had no idea why it hadn’t clicked for me when I was watching the video. Maybe I’d been too busy trying to see what made Nicole so special to Elliot. Or maybe my mind just hadn’t been in a place to put two and two together at that very moment.

  As I stood in that lobby with Demi, my mind was trying to comprehend what I didn’t want to believe to be true. But then I remembered Demitri’s tat. The only one he had on his body. The one that was hidden, so you had to know him intimately to see it. Then I remembered the spot on Nicole’s inner right thigh. It matched the tat on Demitri’s left thigh. Theirs were matching yin-yang tattoos. The left and the right. Balance.

  “Mona,” Demitri barked.

  He was still holding me in the lobby. I had almost passed out while standing there, wide awake. I came back to the present. Got my bearings. Snatched my arm away from him. I had watched the elevator that Elliot had carried Nicole onto. Floors five, six, and seven had lit up.

  I rushed onto the elevator closest to me just before the doors closed. I got lucky when I stepped off on the fifth floor. Elliot and Nicole were standing outside her door.

  And here we were now. In Nicole’s hotel room.

  I said, “Where in hell do I fit into this?”

  There was silence. Demitri and Elliot shared a glance before Demitri said, “I saw you first.”

  I tilted my head, perplexed. “Explain.”

  “Saw your book in Walmart. Read it. Liked it. Went searching for you on Facebook. Saw you. Showed him. You looked like her. He read your book, then reached out to you first. He never got over her. So . . . ,” Demitri explained.

  In some kind of sick way, Demitri had been trying to find a replacement for Nicole for the man he loved.

  “I was a substitute,” I said.

  “Ask him,” Demitri said.

  “Not a substitute,” Elliot said. “I admit, your resemblance to Nicole was a factor in me reaching out to you, but it had nothing to do with us hooking up.”

  “You’re a goddamn liar,” I blurted out. I was angry. If I’d had that helmet in my hand, I’d have attacked him with it.

  “He is lying,” Demitri said.

  “Shut up,” Elliot shot back at him.

  “The shit is all out in the open now,” Demitri said.

  Nicole said to me, “See what I’m saying? You see why I think they did this shit to me on purpose?”

  “I keep telling you I didn’t know that man before the day I met him at the pier,” Elliot barked.

  When Elliot said “that man,” Demitri’s right eye flinched. He jerked like he had been stung by a killer bee or something. Elliot was back in time, defending his position to Nicole. Trying to win her back. Trying to get her to listen to reason. Demitri was the trickster in this situation. He’d tricked them both. Played Elliot like a fiddle. Hurt Nicole in the process. One had to be a different kind, a special brand of insane to do what Demitri had done.

  Elliot and Nicole had been together for six years before Demitri showed up on that pier. And in the seventh year, they were done. That meant Demitri had to stew in his hurt, pain, and anger for six whole years. Did that mean he watched Nicole? Stalked her and Elliot before he put his plan together?

  Made no sense. Something was missing.

  “You have to be out of your damn mind, Demitri, to wait six years to do something so damn conniving,” I said.

  Demitri looked at Nicole. Nicole cast her eyes downward. Glanced at Elliot but averted her eyes when he looked at her.

  “Tell him,” Demitri said.

  Elliot stood up to his full height. Walked to the middle of the room and said, “Tell me what?”

  The room fell deathly silent. I could hear a fly piss on cotton, it was so quiet.

  “Tell him about Rio, Shelle,” Demitri said.

  “Rio? What happened in Rio? You—you went on vacation with your family. You were gone for a week,” Elliot.

  “She was with me,” Demitri confessed. “That whole week, she was with me.”

  Nicole dropped down on the bed like it would hurt her to keep standing. “It was one time,” she whispered. “One time.”

  It was Elliot’s turn to be surprised and dismayed. “Three months before I met him, you were in Rio with him?”

  “We’d broken up, but after a while, she started taking my phone calls again,” Demitri said.

  Some part of me felt as if he was rubbing it in Elliot’s face. That love they shared for one another took a backseat to pettiness.

  “I was worried about you,” Nicole said, barely above a whisper. “Y-our sister said you weren’t doing well—”

  “You were worried about him, so you flew to Rio for a week and fucked him?” Elliot shouted. He was belligerent.

  Nicole cut a glare at him that was so sharp, it cut even me. “No. You don’t get to be upset or angry or anything. You—”

  “I loved you. I was faithful before him.”

  “You were still living a lie.”

  “It doesn’t matter! I was faithful to you before him,” Elliot yelled and slapped his hand against his chest for emphasis.

  “All of you,” I said, “are fucking crazy. All three of you. Why don’t the three of you just go and get married? Live crazily ever after. All your crazy combined would make for some real interesting shit.”

  Elliot ignored me. He wanted to know more about Rio. Demanded somebody tell him something. He didn’t understand it. Cool, levelheaded, “always in control” Elliot was gone. He got what he was asking for. Nicole told him. Told him she was scared Demitri was going to hurt himself after she moved on from him. But even still, for three years, she cut all communication with him. She had to for her own sanity after finding out he’d made a fool of her.

  Then, one day, his sister called. All that time, Nicole had thought Demitri had moved on. Finished school and was either a practicing doctor or in residence. But no, his sister told Nicole he’d quit school when she broke up with him. His sister was worried. There was something about drugs, fights, and alcohol. So Nicole agreed to at least talk to him.

  That was how the lines of communication opened back up. She even flew back to Grena
da to make sure he went to rehab, like he promised he would. The more Nicole talked, the angrier Elliot became. He started pacing like a caged animal. While in St. George’s, she wanted Elliot to know she never cheated on him. She went solely to see that Demitri went into that rehab center.

  He was there a whole year. The only person Demitri communicated with was Nicole. She made him check in every Sunday. After his rehab was done, Demitri moved to New York. Nicole wasn’t okay with that, but what could she do? She was afraid to tell Elliot that he was in New York. How was she going to explain to him that she and the ex who had fucked her over were friends? So she didn’t even bother.

  Everything was good at first. Demitri pretended to respect the boundaries Nicole had drawn. But the phone calls started. Those times when she and Elliot were at odds, Demitri was there, listening to her vent. Nicole pretty much told Demitri all he needed to know about Elliot. Nicole admitted that by that time Demitri had worked his way back into her heart. She was in love with two men. But she knew one wasn’t right for her.

  Demitri was a free spirit, and he was damaged goods. No good, God-fearing woman could take a man like Demitri home. Even with that knowledge, she let him talk her into coming with him to Rio to visit his mom’s side of the family there. That was her mistake. That was when she knew she’d gotten in over her head.

  Demitri said, “After Brazil, she just cut me off again. Changed her fucking number. Erased me like I hadn’t meant shit,” he spat. “I showed up to her job, trying to get her to explain her actions to me. I didn’t understand why she would do that shit to me again.” As he spoke, he looked as if he was reliving the pain all over again. His brows furrowed and eyes watered. “After knowing what I’d been through, why would you abandon me like that again?” he said, eyes locked on Nicole.

  Nicole swallowed, her eyes red. “You were a whore,” she said coolly. “A woman of my prestige and character could never marry a whore, reformed or otherwise. My family would have never accepted a whore bastard as my husband,” she said emphatically.

  * * *

  The more she talked, the more pain hardened Demitri’s features. Nicole kept going. She told him Rio meant nothing to her. He had been something to do, and when she was done, she tossed him to the side again. Elliot was better for her. Elliot loved her. Elliot was a teacher, upstanding in the eyes of society, and she loved him. Rio showed her how much she loved Elliot.

  “While my dick was in every hole she owned, she still loved you,” Demitri taunted Elliot.

  “Shut up, Demi,” Nicole said in a threatening manner.

  “Fuck you,” Demitri shot back.

  Nicole recoiled. Shock registered in her eyes. Demitri had never spoken to her that way. Elliot’s hand shook and tightened. The one that held the helmet he’d taken from me. I knew what he was thinking. I’d thought it earlier. Wondered what it would sound like to crack someone’s skull open with a helmet.

  “Fucking whore,” Nicole said. “Can never trust a fucking whore to keep their mouth shut.”

  No need to wonder whom she was talking to. There was only one true blue whore in the room.

  “Stuck up, bitch,” he responded. “Fuck you, your Jack and Jills, your cotillions, and your churches.”

  Nicole shrugged like she was unbothered. “Don’t talk to me with your whore mouth. You’ve probably had more dicks in your mouth than Janet Jackme, Skin Diamond, Jillian Janson, and Vicki Chase.”

  “Maybe if you learned how to suck dick properly, I wouldn’t have swayed Elliot so easily.”

  That hurt her. She tensed. Squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Demitri had a devilish scowl on his face.

  “I suck dick better than your father?” Nicole asked.

  “Nicole!” Elliot yelled. Then his eyes jumped to Demitri.

  I looked from Elliot to Demitri. Those gray eyes had turned as black as night. Demitri dropped the helmet that had been perched under his arm. He launched at Nicole so quick that I screamed. Yelled when Elliot snatched me back, then hopped over the bed to get between Demitri and Nicole. It was like watching two of the biggest defensive ends in the NFL clash in the middle of the field.

  Nicole’s screams joined mine. Elliot jumped in front of Demitri, who was inches away from ending Nicole’s life, I was sure. Elliot’s launch forward propelled Demitri backward. I’d never forget the pure hatred in Demitri’s eyes for as long as I lived. That anger had transformed him. There was nothing beautiful about the man whom I’d come to know. He looked like, for lack of better words, a monster. A demon in the flesh.

  Trying to run away from the wrath of the giant, Nicole fell over the side of the bed. Hit the floor so hard, I was sure they heard it four floors down.

  All hell had broken loose.

  Mona

  We had to leave. Management wanted all of us out of their hotel. They’d brought in the police to prove it. My heart was pounding. I’d almost been a witness to a murder. If Elliot hadn’t been in the room, there would have been nothing I could have done to keep Demitri from killing Nicole.

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what her last question to Demitri had insinuated. While I didn’t know if it was true or not, judging by Demitri’s violent reaction, I could pretty much guess which answer was the right one. My heart ached.

  After she hit the floor hard, Nicole had balled herself up in the corner on the other side of the bed. The woman had been scared for her life. Regret had been in her eyes. While Elliot had wrestled Demitri to keep him away from her, Nicole had whimpered, hot tears rolling down her face. She knew she’d fucked up. I’d bet any money she saw her life flash before her eyes.

  Elliot had the giant by the collar of his leather jacket and had him hemmed in, in the corner across the room. He let the collar go, then bear-hugged Demetri. He spoke in French Creole to him. Some of it I understood. Most of it I didn’t. I had no idea if Elliot’s words were even resonating with Demitri, as his eyes were still trained solely on Nicole. He wanted to kill her. It was in his eyes. Right there, he tap-danced on that thin gray line. Like that gully queen had done to his mother, Demitri wanted to snuff Nicole out. Tears rolled down his cheeks. The kind that showed anger more than hurt.

  The rapid, hard-knuckle knocking on the door brought us all back down to earth.

  “Mrs. Goins?” yelled a man with a deep, throaty voice. “Are you in there? Are you okay?”

  “Nicole, you have to go to the door,” Elliot said from across the room. He was tired. It was in his voice.

  Nicole didn’t move.

  There was another knock. “Mrs. Goins, this is the Atlanta Police Department. We need to know you’re okay.”

  “Nicole, go to the door,” Elliot commanded again. “I got him. You’re fine. Answer the door.”

  Nicole didn’t look as if she believed Elliot could keep Demitri penned in that corner. I wasn’t sure if I believed it, either. But she stood, fixed her clothes as best she could, and made her way to the door. I took a seat in the chair. My legs felt like spaghetti. I slapped my tears away. Elliot shoved Demitri into the bathroom. Said something to him in French Creole again, then pulled the bathroom door closed just as Nicole opened the door for the police.

  They took one look at her tearstained face, then at mine, and their immediate reaction was to stare at Elliot with accusatory eyes. Four officers—three white, one black—and two hotel managers walked into Nicole’s hotel room. While two of the white officers wanted to know if Nicole and I were okay, the other white officer needed Elliot to step out into the hall.

  Demitri slammed something down in the bathroom. The black officer, hand on his gun, rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door. He needed Demitri to come out and talk to him. I was sure he was seconds away from pulling his gun when Demitri stepped out. He wasn’t expecting the height or build of the man he’d demanded show his face.

  The black officer was every bit of five-nine, at best. He strained his neck to look up at Demitri, hand still on his gun. He
was jumpier than the white cops, who had turned their attention to the big black man with the angry scowl on his face. All that had happened seconds before took a backseat to me wondering if Demitri would be shot in cold blood by the cops and what the narrative that followed would be.

  I could tell Nicole was thinking the same thing, as she stepped back and gripped her heart. She lied, “My fiancé and I had an argument that got out of hand, is all.”

  “Did he hit you, ma’am?” one of the white officers asked.

  Demitri’s scowl deepened.

  Nicole shook her head. “No, he didn’t. I let my emotions get the better of me and got a bit too loud.”

  “Other guests said they heard someone screaming, ma’am,” another one of the white officers said.

  “Yeah, I was frustrated. Angry at something he said.”

  “This true, miss?” the black officer asked me.

  I nodded.

  “You look a bit emotional yourself. You okay? He touch you?” the black cop asked me.

  It was my turn to frown. It was as if they were looking for a reason, any reason, to rile the giant up.

  “No, he didn’t lay a finger on me,” I said. “Just a regular ole couples quarrel.”

  “So who’s that in the hall?” the black officer asked.

  “Her ex-boyfriend,” I said, then pointed at Demitri. “He cheated on her, and then she got with the one in hall. She then cheated on the one in the hall with this one.”

  The officers looked at me as if I’d bumped my head.

  “So where do you fit in?” the black officer asked.

  “I’m just someone the giant and the one in the hall fuck in their spare time.”

  If I had the right words to describe the looks on the officers’ faces, I still wouldn’t have the right words to describe the looks on the officers’ faces. They needed to see some IDs. We all handed them over.

  “You two sisters?” the black officer asked after the white officers asked, more like commanded, Demitri to sit down.