SISTER’S REVENGE
Action Adventure Assassin Pulp Thriller Book #1
Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Assassin Series
(Adult Content & Strong Language)
Lori Jean Grace
& S. Jay Jackson
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A full Table of Contents is at back of the book.
One: The Morning After
WHAP!
She slapped him on the ass.
“What the fuck!” Jermaine’s eyes flew open. Michelle stood next to him, butt naked and grinning, a towel draped over one shoulder. “Damn, girl, what the hell was that for?”
“Get your lazy butt outta my bed. You and Grant here are getting us some breakfast.” She stuck out a fifty-dollar bill.
Jermaine rolled over and looked her up and down, a gleam in his eye. “Hey, girl, how about you climb your sweet self back in this bed and I give you something better’n breakfast?”
“I said get your lazy butt up and get us something to eat.”
“Uh-huh, I heard you. Girl, you know I’m not lazy, not after last night, and I’m really not all that hungry …”
Michelle dug through her underwear drawer. “Look, Jermaine, we had a great time last night, but that was last night. Your’re leaving and I’ll be outta here in about thirty minutes, with or without breakfast. And don’t try no shit. You ain’t staying in my crib when I’m gone. Now, last time, get up and get moving.”
“All right, but … damn, girl, you sure you don’t want another taste o’ this?”
Michelle half-turned. “You’re starting to piss me off. I don’t care if you go get us breakfast or just take your stank ass home. Now get outta my bed.”
“Sure, all right, I’m up.” He grabbed his pants off the chair. “Where can I get us a little something around here?”
“Scott’s.” Michelle pulled up her panties, gave him the fifty. “Make a right at the corner and down to the light. It’s across the street.”
Jermaine left with a click of the door.
Didn’t even ask what I wanted, but that’s all right. He’s already off my list anyway.
Michelle never left her cottage alone when a guy might think he had a right to be inside. While Jermaine went down the street to buy breakfast, she locked up and drove far enough around the corner to be out of sight, yet still have a good view of her front door.
Soon, Jermaine returned, breakfast bag in hand, to a note taped at eye level.
Jermaine,
Had to bounce. Good times last night!
Michelle
She often added LMN after her name, but “lose my number” was a bit harsh for him. He’d been an enthusiastic, if unimaginative, lover.
He looked at the note, turned, and scanned the street. Even Stevie Wonder could have read his lips as he said, “What the fuck?” He shrugged and walked to his car, munching on an egg muffin.
All clear.
Michelle fired up her silver convertible Crossfire and headed away from the beach where she lived, toward Anglewatts, the heart of the urban jungle.
Driving east from her cottage in Playa Del Oro, Michelle hit Manchester Boulevard before calling her uncle, G-Baby, at his barber shop.
“G’s B-Shop, this is G,” he answered.
“Hey, Uncle G, I’m on my way to your shop. I’m stopping for something to eat first.”
“You’re coming over now?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s time. You want anything?”
“Naw, I’m good. You might pick up something for Sarge, though. Make him happy to see you. Hey, on second thought, stop at the 7-Eleven up the street. Get me some of that Irish cream coffee. Big cup.”
“Got you covered. Coffee for you, and a burger for Sarge.”
After a couple of stops, Michelle parked her car up the street from the barber shop. With no parking lot, storefront parking was at a premium, always had been ever since she was a little girl coming in with her mom’s messages for her dad or older brother.
Michelle walked in, the tinted glass door closing behind her. “Hey, Uncle G.” She dropped her bags on the small table next to G‑Baby’s barber chair and waited for him to click off the clippers before reaching for a hug.
“Hey, girl!”
After they embraced, Michelle drew back. She recognized some of the faces. A few were new, but really, nothing had changed. Paneled in dark wood, smelling of tonic and smoke, the old-school barbershop was as comfortable as it was familiar. A man sat in each of the three traditional, dark green barber chairs, while others sat waiting on the opposite side of the room.
“Here,” said G‑Baby, “let me introduce you to everyone. This guy here is J.C. He thinks he’s smart and pretty, but don’t let him fool you; he’s just another brother. And don’t let him try no smooth-talking shit. He’s got a wife with a little boy. Yooouu knooow.” G-Baby half-covered his mouth, making a show of hiding his words. “We think he’s okay, but really it’s Timika who has our hearts.”
“Hey, J.C.,” Michelle said.
J.C. grinned. “Don’t let him fool you. It’s Timika’s extra lunches he loves.”
G-Baby continued. “And you already know Jimmy. Been working that chair since you were a little girl in pigtails.”
“Hey, Jimmy. Long time. You doing good?”
“Yeah, same ol’, same ol’. Keeping it real for an old guy. Still love the young women like you.” He winked.
“Save that shit for someone who doesn’t know you. You’ve been married as long as I can remember.”
G‑Baby waved over to the customers. “And these fine gentlemen are clients, even if they aren’t here to get a haircut. Everyone, this is my niece, Michelle. She’s got a big-time job with the movies. Goes all over the world doing shit with them actors and directors.”
While the younger men gave Michelle bold looks, the older guys checked her out more politely, though they all followed Michelle’s movements like they had ass magnets in their eyes, and who could blame them? It wouldn’t have been a barbershop if they didn’t check out her ass. Not many women as fine as Michelle came in the shop.
“Hey, everyone,” she said.
“Hey.”
“Sup.”
“Hi.”
An older man stood. “Would you like a seat?”
Michelle strode past the others and, with a big, cheesy grin, hugged him. “Mr. Gowan, it’s so good to see you. How’s Mrs. Gowan?”
“Ornery as ever. That’s why I’m here. It certainly isn’t because I can’t shave my own face.”
“Well, Mrs. Gowan might say the same thing about you.”
“Yes, but I’m the one who’s right.”
Back at the front of the shop, Michelle opened the bags. “Here’s your coffee, Uncle G.”
“Thanks.”
“Where’s mine?” J.C. asked.
“Mine, too?” Jimmy added.
“Oh damn, I must’ve missed it,” she said. “I think it’s sitting in the pot right where I got this one. No, wait—I think somebody already got those two. Don’t worry, they’ll make some fresh coffee, as soon as you drive your cheap butts up to the store and buy it.”
J.C. cringed. “Ouch!”
“You don’t know the
half of it,” G‑Baby said.
Michelle pulled the hamburger from the other bag. “Hey, Sarge, come here, you beautiful boy.” Sarge wandered over, sniffed the burger, then sniffed her crotch. He chose the burger.
G‑Baby chuckled. “Sarge always does that. Nobody trained him; he does it on his own. Likes to smell every woman who comes in the place. Sometimes, I think some of them come in just to get smelled by old Sarge.”
Michelle scratched Sarge around the scruff of his neck. “Who’s a good boy? You know what’s important, don’tcha, Sarge? Smartest German shepherd I’ve ever seen, and better than lots of men I know. Maybe I could teach Sarge to fetch stuff from the store. You know, cigarettes and things like that. What do you think?”
“Yeah, he’s smart enough,” G‑Baby said. “Probably count the change, too; be sure those 7-Eleven fools don’t cheat me.”
“Hey, Uncle G, I have to bounce. I’m headed over to work.” Michelle kissed G‑Baby’s cheek.
“Okay, little one. Good of you to come by. I know Sarge loves to see you.”
She picked up her purse and waved to the others. “Bye, everyone. And Mr. Gowan, please tell your wife ‘hi’ for me.”
“She’ll be pleased to hear it.”
Michelle stepped out of the air-conditioned shop and back into the clear, hot day.
Mission accomplished.
Since returning to the States a couple of months earlier, Michelle had been stealthy around the hood—lying low, keeping quiet, visiting her uncle at his house only in the evenings. Showing up at the shop this morning signaled it was time to start the next step of her plan, one that had been three years and rivers of tears in the making.
Two: Rowdogs
“HOLY SHIT! I can’t believe it. It’s really you. Where the hell have you been, girl? And why are you just now calling?” Michelle heard Deja yell, “Nikky! You won’t believe who this is!”
Back on the phone, she asked, “What the hell, girl? Where are you? You any place close where we can hook up? Damn, girl, it sure is good to hear your voice. When did you get back? What’re you doing? No, don’t tell me on the phone; we’ve gotta holla face to face.”
Michelle had been rowdogs with Nikky and Deja since primary school. She remembered, during her travels, having to translate to some White Europeans that “rowdog” meant BFF.
“BFF?” the woman had asked.
“Best friends forever,” Michelle had replied. “BFF is what White girls in the States call each other. We call our best friends our rowdogs.”
“Why?”
The woman, who’d never been to the States, was truly baffled, of course, and just being curious.
“It comes from men on death row in prison,” Michelle explained. “They’re in this thing together until they die, so they’re rowdogs. I don’t know why we call our close friends ‘dogs’; it’s just something we do.”
The three friends were true rowdogs, having lost their cherries at the same party, fought the same girls, and shared each other’s deepest secrets. And each was just as attractive but in totally different ways.
Michelle had missed Deja’s excitement. “Yeah, girl, it’s good to hear you, too. I’ve got so much to tell you and Nikky. You won’t believe everything that’s happened since I had to leave. Can you meet with me today?”
“Shit, girl, what’s up with that? Asking me some shit ‘can I meet with you today.’ You’re sounding all proper and shit. Hella yeah, we’re getting together right now. Where’re you at?”
“How about I come to you? I have a car and can be over real quick.”
“You have a car already?” Deja replied. “Get your butt here now. We’re kicking it at Nikky’s mom’s house, spending time with Nikky’s sister, Lil Taye.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in thirty minutes. You want me to bring anything?”
“No, are you crazy? Bring your skinny butt over here and don’t stop for anything. It is still skinny, right? Damn, girl, I don’t care what size your butt is. Just get over here.”
“You got it.”
*
Three years ago, Michelle left as a naïve college girl and experienced a world of change. Though she was the same person on the inside, she now had a hardness and a resolve, a drive and an edgy determination that wasn’t there when she last saw her friends.
I hope this works. I really need them to still love me.
A tumble of excitement, joy, and anxiety swirled inside Michelle’s stomach as she rang the doorbell.
Deja slammed the door back, and before Michelle could say anything, she jumped out on the porch and wrapped Michelle in a bear hug. “Goddammit, girl, I haven’t seen you for over three years, and look what you’ve already done.” Deja wiped away tears and running mascara with her fingertips. “You’ve messed up my makeup. I got snot running out my nose from crying. I’m acting like some shit-brained bride who found her husband screwing some church sister.”
Michelle started to say something, but with Deja dancing her around in a circle, words were impossible.
“You’re lucky you didn’t mess up my hair; I’d be all pissed for that. I got it done just yesterday. Goddamn, it’s good to see you!”
Happy tears had welled up from Deja’s outburst, until Michelle saw Nikky standing inside the door. Nikky always held back her emotions. Deja’s tears meant little; she cried when she saw a cute puppy. But tears in Nikky’s eyes? Any remaining reserve dissolved, and Michelle cried and hugged her two friends as if life itself were in the balance.
Three long years of misery broke free.
“Oh God, I’ve missed you two so much!” Michelle choked out, then squeaked over and over. “I love you.” All three women hugged and cried and sniffed. Then they blew their noses and hugged some more.
Finally, Deja broke off. “Where has your butt been? No, let me look at you first, then tell me where you’ve been.” She stepped back, wiping her eyes and nose on some toilet paper. “Damn, girl, it’s sooo good to see you.”
Michelle hugged them again, then pointed over to the couch. “Let’s sit, and I’ll tell you all about it. Nikky, do you have an A&W, or some of that crack tea your momma makes?”
They strolled into the living room, where Nikky’s little sister, Taye, followed.
“Oh my God, look at who grew up!” Michelle said. “You are so pretty. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”
“Hey, Michelle, when did you get back?” Taye did a quick spin and laughed. “Yep, all grown up and in my senior year.”
“So how’s school?” Michelle asked, deftly avoiding Taye’s question on when she’d gotten back,
“It’s fine. My grades are okay. I’m thinking about going to community college next year but I don’t really know yet. Nikky, hey, I’m gonna take off. Let you guys talk about old times and boring stuff.”
“Come here, give me a hug before you go.” Michelle cupped Taye’s face. “As pretty as you are, I know you’re breaking hearts everywhere. Just don’t be giving it away too easy. Remember, they’re all dogs.”
“That’s also why I’m leaving. I don’t need a bunch of sex advice from you guys.” Taye hugged Michelle, waved to everyone, then left.
The three friends moved into the kitchen, poured glasses of the best sweet tea in the hood, and sat down at the kitchen table. They passed around a roll of toilet paper, blowing their noses and cleaning streaked mascara.
After one last blow, Michelle said, “You guys act like you didn’t know if I was dead or alive.”
“At times, you could’ve been either, for all we knew,” Deja said. “You almost never called. Your emails were just as bad. We’d get a few for a couple months, then nothing for a long time.”
“I always told you, before I left, when I’d be offline.”
“So? You think that was enough? You’d be gone for all those months. And Christ, girl, when we finally got an email from you, you didn’t say anything except you were all right and learning some serious shit. What’s up wi
th that?”
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be in touch more,” Michelle said. “It was so hard being away.”
“What the hell were you learning for so long? Are you a college girl now, too good for us regular sisters?”
“Jesus, girlfriend, let her talk,” Nikky said.
“Yeah, all right. I’m just so excited, I almost peed myself. Wait. Don’t say anything important till I get back. I need to pee.” Deja went into the bathroom around the corner and left the door open a crack so she could talk.
Like yawning, when one went, everyone had to. After turns in the bathroom, three happy friends sat in the kitchen to chat and catch up on the missing years.
“Ladies,” Michelle said, “we have a lot of important things to cover today. I know it’s been a long time, and I hate to dump a bunch of shit on you all at once, but there’s some stuff you need to know. Thing is, we have to be where nobody can hear what we’re saying, and Nikky, your mom might come home in the middle of things.”
“All right,” Deja said, “we’re just chilling for the rest of the day. We can head over to my apartment and talk there.”
“This is some real private stuff. How about we go to my crib? I’m hungry, and I want to drive through In-N-Out on Washington. It’s on the way. You guys hungry?”
“You already have a crib?” Nikky asked. “How long have you been back?”
“Too long. I wanted to come over earlier, but honestly, I didn’t have a real choice. I’ll explain everything at my place.”
Three: Old Beginnings
SITTING ON THE small side patio of her rented cottage, Michelle tossed the remaining pieces of her burger into the trash bag lying on the glass-top table. “That was good,” she said. “Some people say Fat Burger is the best, but I like In-N-Out better.”
“Yeah, they’re good enough,” Deja said, “but let me tell you who has some jammin’ burgers that’ll surprise you.”
“Who?” Nikky and Michelle asked in unison, then they looked at each other and laughed. Three years apart and it seemed like both forever and no time at all had passed.
“Now don’t laugh,” Deja said. “T‑Bone’s Ribs is where.”
“They’re a rib joint. What do they know about burgers?” Nikky asked.
Sister's Revenge: Action Adventure Assassin Pulp Thriller Book #1 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Assassin) Page 1