B00B1W3R6U EBOK

by J. , Anna

  Drifting off to sleep once her tears subsided, she thought about ways of knocking James off quickly so she could finally have Jasmine to herself. The baby wasn’t all that important to her, but if all else failed, Monica decided she would try getting pregnant again as a last resort. As bad as things were going, something had to give, and she hoped it would give soon.

  Monica slept well until the next afternoon, the ringing phone waking her from her slumber. Upset about the interference of her much-needed sleep but glad to be awakened from the nightmare she was having, Monica answered the phone with a groggy voice lacking any type of enthusiasm. She thought it was still morning and wondered who would be calling so early.

  “This better be good,” Monica barked into the phone as she struggled to sit up in her bed. She was still having slight pains in her abdomen, and it wasn’t easy for her to maneuver around.

  “You have a paid call from an inmate held in Muncy Correctional Facility. If you attempt to use three-way calling or any other features, this call will be disconnected. To accept this call, press three now,” the computer voice spoke into the receiver.

  Monica glanced at the clock, realizing it was the afternoon, and wondered who got locked up and was calling for her assistance. She had just bailed her sister out only two months ago and hoped she wasn’t sent up again. Her sister was a petty thief, and Monica was starting to think she preferred jail to having freedom. Pressing three, she spoke into the receiver ready to hear some member of her dysfunctional family beg for help.

  “Who needs my help now?” Monica spoke into the phone once the call was connected. She didn’t plan on helping whoever was calling, and was going to make this short and sweet.

  “You seem to have forgotten about me,” the voice came through on the other end, sounding angry and ready to explode.

  “I forgot about who?” Monica replied, thinking her mind was playing tricks on her. She hadn’t spoken to Tanya since the day she was sent up for her husband’s murder almost two and a half years ago. Wondering why she decided to call now, Monica didn’t hide her disbelief as they continued their conversation.

  “After all we’ve been through you don’t know who this is?” Tanya came through on the other end like she wanted to snatch Monica by her neck.

  “I know who it is,” Monica came back with an attitude. She was over Tanya and didn’t feel like the bullshit. What was Tanya going to do for her from prison? Besides, she had her eyes on a bigger prize and didn’t plan on being distracted by anyone.

  “Why am I still in here? You told me a couple of weeks, and that’s it,” Tanya said, sounding like she was starting to cry. “I been in here for damn near three years waiting for you to get me out of this hellhole. What the fuck is the problem?”

  “What do you mean what’s the problem? I told you there would be some time served,” Monica came back with just as much attitude.

  As far as she was concerned, she didn’t owe Tanya shit. If anything, she did her a favor by killing her abusive husband. Who wants to live in fear every day for the rest of their life not knowing how their man was going to act when he got home? You can’t be cute with a black eye and broken ribs. Ain’t nothing sexy about it. Monica came to the conclusion that if she didn’t kill him he would have killed her, and it’s as simple as that. No, she didn’t think about the situation she put Tanya’s son in, but Monica was never good at looking at the big picture.

  “So what am I supposed to do? I didn’t tell on you because I thought you had my back. I thought you loved me,” Tanya screamed into the phone, her emotions getting the best of her, causing the other inmates to look in her direction. Even though she told herself she wasn’t going to cry, she couldn’t help it. She wanted out of the stone cage she was forced to be in, and she was ready to do whatever necessary to make it happen.

  “What did I tell you about trusting people? Didn’t I tell you no human was trustworthy? Didn’t I tell you that you were the only one who had your back?” Monica shot the questions at her back to back, not giving her enough time to answer in between. “You come into this world alone and you leave alone. How many times have we had this conversation?” Monica was getting frustrated with the entire scenario and was about to hang up. Her main focus was Jasmine now, and she didn’t want to hear shit Tanya had to say. When was the world going to understand that it was all about Monica and what made her happy? No one else mattered.

  “So you just gonna leave me here?” Tanya said in a quiet voice, not believing the turn of events. She thought Monica was her soul mate, and thought about all the nights they were wrapped around each other, professing their never-ending love. The Monica she was talking to now was a complete stranger.

  “Tanya,” Monica began, feeling kind of bad because she was the reason Tanya was in jail in the first place, “I’ll make some calls in the morning and see what I can do for you, okay?”

  “Monica, listen. I need to get out of here. I can’t watch my son leave another visit. It’s driving me crazy knowing that he’s too young to understand. All he knows is he wants his mom. He cries every time he has to leave. Can’t you understand the pain I’m going through?”

  Monica began thinking about her own loss and the loss of her mother years ago. There were so many times when she needed to talk to her mom, but couldn’t. So many times she wished she had a gun so she could stop her stepfather from beating her mom in his drunken state. So many times she begged her mom to leave, only for her mom to tell her it was okay as she limped to her room after being beaten nearly unconscious for reasons she didn’t even know. So many times she wished she had the courage to stop him that one last time as she watched her mother’s spirit leave her body, her attacker still kicking and punching her until she stopped moving. Monica thought about the recent loss of her child and how it felt to be without a mother, and for a second she had an ounce of compassion for Tanya’s situation.

  Brushing back tears, she got herself together as she listened to Tanya’s soft cries and her pleas to get her home to her son. All Tanya wanted was a second chance, and she needed Monica to help her get it.

  “Tanya, please stop crying. I’ll be there soon, and I’ll make some calls for you today. I’ll get you home, okay?”

  Before Tanya could respond, her time had expired on the call and they were disconnected. Monica held onto the phone long after the dial tone had stopped, and the operator was instructing her to either hang up or make a call as tears stung her eyes. She didn’t want Jasmine’s situation to turn out the same as Tanya’s, or worse. Calling up Judge Stenton, the same judge who presided over Tanya’s case, she set up an appointment to meet with him in private so they could discuss a few things. He owed her a favor, and there was no time like the present to cash in on it.

  What I Wouldn’t Do For You

  James had been standing outside Monica’s house for at least twenty minutes, several times resisting the urge to hop in his car and stay away forever. Hating to admit that he may be slipping again, he had called the hospital earlier just as he had for the past three weeks to check with the nurses to see if Monica was okay, not wanting to talk to her directly. Fabricating his relationship to Monica so he could find out information on her—information only privileged to family—he kept tabs on her progression the entire time, telling the nurses he was her brother from out of town.

  Upon finding out that she was discharged, he took off from work early to check in on her and find out if she was still carrying the baby because he didn’t have the heart to ask the nurse about it. Stopping to get soup and juice for Monica, he stood outside peering up at her windows, the sun relentless on his already chocolate skin. Finally taking a deep breath to boost his courage, he went up and knocked on the door, announcing his arrival to her home.

  On the other side of the door, he could hear Monica racing down the steps. His heart beat just as quickly as her footsteps on the hardwood floor. Waiting in anticipation for her to open the door felt like an eternity; his voice came out w
eak and soft when she asked who was on the other side.

  Monica took a step back, pausing before opening the door. James was just the person she was looking for, and she was prepared to read him the riot act for abandoning her the way he did. When she pulled the door open, James all but jumped back, gasping out loud at the woman standing before him.

  Her cheeks and eyes were sunken in and her bones showed under the once tight shirt she was wearing, Monica looked like she had been binging on coke for the past couple of days. Gone was the sexy smile and mischievous eyes. Standing before him was a Monica he didn’t recognize as a million questions flooded his head at once.

  “Are you going to stand there and stare at me, or are you coming in?” Monica quizzed, frustrated that he caught her looking her worst. Monica always looked her best, even at her worst, so this was a rare occurrence.

  As James stepped through the open door, memories of that night flashed before his eyes, causing him to sway a little as he thought about the blood and the circumstances from which it came. Daring a glance in that area, the once bloodied sofa was replaced with a soft butter leather sectional showing no signs of the gory scene from a couple of weeks ago.

  Following Monica into the kitchen, he sat the contents in his hand down, taking a seat before his face became acquainted with the floor. James breathed heavily, trying to control the light-headed feeling he was having. Monica leaned against the sink taking it all in, contemplating offering him a glass of water to ease his anxiety.

  “So, James,” Monica said while examining her nails, “what brought you to this side of town? I thought maybe your fingers had been broken or you had amnesia.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” James began, deciding against telling her that he had checked on her every day while she was in the hospital. “I had to keep things tight at home. Maintain balance with my own family. You know how it is.”

  “No, I don’t know how it is! As you can plainly see, I am the only occupant under this roof. Or have we forgotten already?” Monica stated sarcastically, causing James to get on the defensive.

  “Look, I didn’t come here for all that . . .”

  “Then what are you here for? To see if I’m still pregnant with your child?”

  James didn’t want to just bust out and ask her the obvious even though she had hit the nail right on the head. He was trying to be a gentleman about the situation and was determined to do just that no matter how hard Monica made it to be.

  “Monica, you need to slow the fuck down,” James said, all of a sudden feeling strong and taking Monica by surprise. “I heard you were out of the hospital, and I came to see if you were okay. I bought you some stuff so you wouldn’t have to leave the house because I was concerned. I know you’re not used to people caring about your wellbeing, but I can do without the sarcastic bullshit.”

  “I just know you done lost your mind!” Monica stepped away from the kitchen sink and toward James like she was two seconds from pouncing on him and ripping his heart out his chest with her bare hands.

  “You know what, Monica?” James said, backing away from the table and making his way to the front door. “This shit is for the birds. I don’t want or need the drama!”

  As he walked to the door, his one step equaling about four of Monica’s, he could hear her playing catch-up behind him. Regretting turning his back to her, he hoped she wasn’t running up on him with a knife or something. Monica had major screws loose, and he didn’t feel like having to explain it to Jazz later. He was supposed to be at work anyway.

  “James, wait,” Monica said as she came up behind him.

  “What?” James said, still facing the door with his hand on the knob. He just wanted to know if he was going to be a father again or not. Anything else was irrelevant.

  “I lost the baby. I don’t know how happy that makes you, but it damn near killed me. That’s all I had to keep you near my heart, the only thing I could call mine. Someone to finally love me,” Monica said through her tears. She didn’t want James exactly, but knew that a child would give her unconditional love regardless if he was around or not. It would make her and Jasmine’s family complete.

  “All you would have done was caused problems. I don’t need another kid right now, and even if you had kept it we still wouldn’t have been together.”

  “Who said it’s you I want, James?” Monica said before catching herself. If James knew she was after his wife, he would never come back over.

  “Then who do you want, Monica? I don’t think you even know.”

  Without continuing the conversation, he opened the door. The brightness of the sun blurred his vision for a few seconds as his eyes adjusted to the light. Monica stood in the doorway watching him walk away, not really feeling any remorse. She knew she looked a horrible mess, and that was the only reason James resisted her, but that wouldn’t be for long. Closing the door and heading to the kitchen, Monica began making a feast as she calculated how she could get pregnant by James again.

  Five Months Later...

  Pulling up to the news station, Monica let the pimple-faced adolescent park her convertible after retrieving the picnic basket from the back seat. It was a nice fall day in The City of Brotherly Love. A slight October chill could be felt on her bare skin under the trench coat she wore, making her wish for a second that she had worn more than a thong and a garter belt. Placing her free arm across her chest, she pressed down against her erect nipples as she made her way into the building from the parking garage.

  It had been a while since she’d seen James. The little scene at her house during his last visit played repeatedly in her mind as she worked at getting her appearance back to what it used to be. Her once sagging breasts were back to their perky selves, sitting at attention as they brushed against the underside of her soft pink trench coat.

  Her hair was braided up in micros, set on straws with a flower on the side, giving her a carefree summer look even at this time of year. Monica’s thigh-high boots peeked out of her trench coat every time she took a step across the marble lobby of The Urban News Network. Every eye was on her as she walked like a high fashion model, confidence dripping off her with lots left to spare.

  When she reached the desk, the security guard was speechless as he sat looking in awe at the beauty in front of him. His erection was about to break his zipper, and Monica took this opportunity to get upstairs to James’s office without him knowing she was even in the building. Bending over to talk to the guard with her breasts in full view, she took control quickly before the woman she knew normally sat at the desk came back from her break.

  “I need you to do me a favor,” Monica said to the flashlight cop in a tone only he could hear. “I’m visiting my husband in the engineering department and I don’t want him to know I’m here. Is it possible for me to get a key to his office so I can surprise him when he walks in? His name is James Cinque.”

  The guard couldn’t answer; his tongue caught in his throat when Monica touched the side of his face, the front of his pants sporting a wide circle from his ejaculation. Passing her the keys, he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she kissed him on the cheek, leaving her Revlon Passion Fruit mouth print on the side of his face. She walked slowly away from him, letting him take in all of her in as she boarded the elevator, opening her coat for him as the door was closing, giving him a frontal view of what he would never have.

  The elevator took her to the eighteenth floor quickly; she stepped off the elevator thankful that no one got on as she came up. Finding James’s office without a problem, she drew the blinds shut tightly so no one could look in. After she set up her candles and picnic lunch, she stretched out on the leather sofa in her outfit awaiting his arrival.

  James, not paying attention to the sudden darkness in his locked office, opened the door, finally looking up at the scene. Noticing Monica mostly naked on his sofa, he closed the door abruptly, being sure to put both locks on.

  “What are you doing here?” James asked, taking i
n Monica’s smooth body stretched out before him. Gone was the skeletal Monica who was nothing more than a bag of bones the last time he saw her. What lay before him was a curvaceous ebony sister, thick in all the right places. This Monica was ten times better than the Monica before her skeletal state, her body radiating heat that he could feel from his spot at the door.

  “Well,” Monica said as she opened her legs for him to see the crotchless thong she was sporting, the candlelight bouncing off her pierced clit. “It’s been a while since the last time I saw you and I wanted to remind you of what you were missing.”

  Getting up off the couch, Monica looked to make sure the mini-camera was on that she placed beside the picture of him and Jasmine he had hanging from the wall. Walking up to James, she began unbuttoning his shirt, kissing him on the neck in the process.

  “Monica, what are you doing?” James came back trying to get some control over the situation, his manhood standing at attention and giving away his real thoughts.

  “I’m letting you know what you’ve been missing.”

  Sliding down to waist level, Monica unzipped his pants and pulled out his thickness, marveling at the evenness of his skin tone. Circling the head with the tip of her tongue first, Monica took just the head in. James leaned against the door for support.

  “Monica, we can’t do this,” James said weakly as the effects of the brain job he was receiving took effect. “I’m at work.”

  “Then that means you’ll have to be quiet then, huh?” Monica replied between kisses as she swallowed James up, his seed dripping from the sides of her mouth showing his excitement.