“Mommy, they don’t like closed bags.” Trey’s voice was almost my undoing. It was an eerily familiar and loving soundtrack to my gruesome execution.
His voice played over and over, yet I still didn’t speak. I couldn’t make a sound; terror had frozen my vocal chords, capsized my lungs, and locked all my muscles. My worst nightmare had come true and the living hell of reality made my dream seem like a fairy tale in comparison. The bag rustled like someone’d hit or kicked it and I jumped as if I’d been shocked. Pain tore through my side as my skin was slashed open. I screamed. The snakes were . . .
“Mommy, where is the money?”
There were at least three different hisses. There was so much movement on either side of me and I screamed again as something slid across my chest and something else . . .
My arms were going numb beneath me. All the danger, the slithering and hissing, was getting closer and closer to my neck and shoulders. There was more movement around my feet. Fur brushed against my toes.
Snakes and cats? What the fuck? Who the fuck does something like this?
Hyperventilation set in when there was slithering across my neck and shoulders as well as in between my legs. Without my clothes I was vulnerable, exposed to every claw and strike. The cat hissed, or it could have been the snake as my shoulder was ripped open. Stress made my body heat rise. It turned the inside of that plastic bubble into a plastic hell as Trey’s voice resonated all around me.
“I took the money. I did.” I sobbed softly, afraid the cats would taunt the snakes and I’d get clawed or bitten again. “Invested it into my business and put the rest away. It’ll take me at least a day to withdraw it all from the different accounts.”
Gut-wrenching sobs shook me down to my soul. The bag was cut open and my chair was pulled up off the floor. My skin stung from where I was bitten or clawed and my arms felt like they’d been stomped on repeatedly.
“I luh you, Mommy. See you later.” Treys voice clicked off and the front door closed. There’s no telling how long I’d sat there, scared a snake or something would still be coiled up at my feet. Towanna was possibly dead. I had no idea which animal attacked me, if it was poisonous or anything. My nose started bleeding. The blood trickled down to my upper lip, tickling my face. My nose itched and it wasn’t one of those nice easy-to-ignore itches either. I squirmed uncomfortably, trying to lean my head so I could rub my nose across my shoulder. The chair rocked and hope swelled up in my chest, making me forget all about my injuries and the snakes.
Bending my wrist as far as I could I grabbed one of the rungs on the back of the chair and twisted. It yielded quietly and I almost shouted to the rooftop. This was the chair I’d half-assed put back together. I’d managed to twist both rungs off and was holding them behind my back when I realized I needed to let them bitches go in order to untie my hands. Excitement and trepidation coursed through my veins. Hopefully I could get out before they got back. With any luck they didn’t leave a watchdog or a guard out there.
I let the chair rungs slide down my hands slowly until they stopped moving. Giving up a silent prayer I let them go and they fell soundlessly. My chair must have been just on the edge of the area rug under the kitchen table.
After undoing my wrist, I yanked what I discovered was in fact a pillowcase off my head in a “swish moment.” That’s what I call it when you celebrate with yourself for doing something extraordinary. It could be catching your phone midair before it hits the floor, or tripping on stairs and keeping your balance. My celebration was short-lived as the familiar ocean of dread swept in and washed away my smile. Towanna wasn’t sitting beside me anymore. She was nowhere to be found. I pulled my clothes back on as best I could and I crept into the living room on wobbly legs. She protected me when I needed it, welcomed me and my kids into her home. It was my turn to return the favor and find and protect Towanna.
Chapter 6
Always Beware of the Jellyfish
The streetlights filtered in through the blinds in the living room, making yellow-orange slashes across the floor. The clock on the wall ticked like it was attached to an amplifier. Relieved there were no blood trails on the carpet, I looked for any other signs of Towanna as I made my way toward the main window. Her eyes followed me as I passed pictures of her with her family. The bright gold R for “Respect” winked at me at the bottom of the frame. It was her mother’s favorite song, Towanna told me. She and her brothers didn’t look anything like their father. They were all replicas of their mom; she was beautiful.
My plan was simple: find out if these assholes were still around, and how many of them were in between Towanna, me, and the kids. Okay, so maybe that really wasn’t a plan. It was more of an outline, because I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d get to or past anyone, but it was a start.
I parted one of the blinds with shaky fingers. The sky was turning violet-blue and birds were just beginning to chirp here and there. I guessed I was expecting to see black SUVs and BMWs lining the driveway. Yet they must have rolled out pretty quick because there wasn’t a single car—
“Michelle? What the hell you doing out here?”
Jumping at the sound of my name I turned, excited and alarmed at the same time. Towanna was sitting up on the couch looking perfectly fine and confused as hell. I hobbled over, intent on giving her a hug.
“Towanna, I was worried as hell about you, woman. When I heard you get hit and then I got loose and you were gone . . .”
I stopped not five feet from her as my brain caught up with what I was seeing. We analyzed each other, both of us trying to sum up all of the events.
“How did you get out here, Towanna?” There was no point in even trying to hide the suspicion in my voice.
Her shoes were off and tucked side by side neatly beside the couch, there wasn’t even a visible bruise or scratch anywhere on her.
“Man, I just woke up on the couch out here and saw you over there lookin’ out the damn window and shit.” She shrugged. “Head hurts like a bitch though.”
“Why would you be out here all cozy on the damn couch, when you were just tied up in the kitchen with me, Towanna?”
“Man, what the hell you tryin’ to say?” Towanna threw her hands up in frustration and sat back, glowering at me.
It wasn’t like we just went through hell together and I was giving her the fifth degree. No, no, no. I went through hell and walked in on what looked like her taking a nap. Something was up, and it was making me want to throw furniture at her ass. Ten, nine, eight. I counted down to keep myself from trying to choke her ass out. I knew I was being irrational, especially since she could take me down with a wrist-grab. If she had anything to do with what I just went through, on my life, I’d make her pay. My insides shook as I paced the couch in front of her staring her down out the corner of my eye.
“Towanna, where the fuck are my kids? I’m not playing with you.”
“Man, Michelle—”
I was so over this shit. “Trey!” I shouted his name at the top of my lungs and headed for the stairs.
There was a noise behind me. It was a mixture between a war cry and a bloodcurdling howl. The full brunt of Towanna’s weight crashed into my back, knocking me off balance with the impact of a battering ram. She must have built up a ton of momentum, because I swear she collided with me in a thunderous crash. The sound ricocheted throughout the house. It left me dazed and knocked the breath out of my lungs. Pinned beneath her weight with my face pressed into the carpet, I could hear the kids crying for me from upstairs.
It was all over faster than a knife fight in a phone booth. Towanna didn’t seem to be moving. My gun had gone off when she knocked me down. I pulled myself from underneath her and she moaned softly.
“Anyone up there wit’ them I need to know about?” I asked, my voice breathless and shaky from fury and fear.
I kicked her when she didn’t answer, but she didn’t move. In the future I’d have to remember to be a better judge of people. Nobody’s willing
to help you for free. She probably knew about Rah’s money the entire time. I should have known better than to put my trust in someone in law enforcement. The world is full of jellyfish, and even though you think you’ll be able to see right through their fake asses, you still have to be careful. They’ll sting the hell out of your ass the second you let them get too close.
I stepped over her lying ass and I couldn’t even feel sorry for her. I’d lived with her for a year now and not once had she used “man,” “shit,” and “yo” more times than when she was obviously lying to me. I tsked at her like I couldn’t believe she’d killed her own partner and tried to play me for a damn fool.
No one would have ever believed what happened up in here. Not in a million years. It was time for me and the kids to make moves.
Chapter 7
Listen, Time Will Tell Every Time
The sky outside was fading from black into the soft blues of morning. It was almost five a.m. when Angelo crept in. I’d gone through his entire phone, e-mails, voicemails, texts, and all. Either he was overly cautious, or actually up to something, because everything was empty or deleted. His contact list didn’t even have real names. I’d searched for my number first and it was listed under Acts 5. Jimmy One Side was the only other number I knew because I’d called him a few times. He was under 2 Judges 16. The list went on and the more I scrolled the more creeped out I got. Angelo didn’t even own a Bible. He was raised Catholic but never went to Mass.
Reluctantly, I’d given up and set his phone back on the stand by the door. I prayed Angelo hadn’t gone through my texts. Hopefully Big hadn’t tried to call or anything while he was out with my phone. It would have been easy to cover up the text he sent earlier if that shit ain’t come from “Big Daddy.”
It took everything I had not to get up and go off on his ass. He’d gone straight to the bathroom and gotten in the shower. Suspect. When he finally decided to ease his ass up in the bed I pretended to be sleep. As expected, Angelo wrapped his frigid limbs around me, tryin’ to steal my body heat. He started grindin’ on my ass and I rolled my eyes to myself. I knew he ain’t think he was about to hump all up on me after he’d been who knew where.
“Where’d you go? You never stay out this late,” I quietly grilled him.
“Nowhere for you to be worried about. I had to take care of some things.”
He nuzzled my neck and I brushed him off.
“We can’t right now, think my cycle’s about to start. I got cramps.”
“Want me to go get the towel?” He winked at me, and I just rolled my eyes and rolled over. No, I didn’t want him to go get no damn towel. I don’t know how much time passed before he finally fell asleep. But it was the only thing ticking down in my head with the clock on the mantel piece in front of the bed as I waited. I slid out of the bed and found his pants. This fool had the pocket mentality of a five-year-old. It took me four tries to find my phone among the clutter of a pocket knife, casino token, zip ties, screws, a slip of paper that listed every poisonous plant in Florida and its side effects, and spare gun clip.
Add a dump truck, Yoo-hoo cap, and a lucky dinosaur and I got two kids . . .
He shifted in his sleep and I flattened myself out on the floor, not even taking a breath. I was on straight-up ninja assassin mode trying to get to that damn phone.
I went into the kitchen and checked my texts, e-mails, and incoming and outgoing calls. Thankfully there was nothing there from Big Daddy, and Sir’Tavius had sent thousands of outfits that he wanted me to consider for my next public appearance. I did a double take as a new messages came through.
* * *
Desivita, picking you up at eight p.m. Wear a nice skirt or dress and heels. We are going to an audition. I will meet you downstairs. Don
* * *
Des Call Time 8 a.m. check your e-mail for directions Do Not Be Late
It was cool outside and felt more like early spring instead of late fall. Since all they were going to do was take me out of my clothes and throw me in wardrobe, I just threw on a sweatshirt with some jeans and my winged high-top Adidas. Angelo threw on an instant attitude at having to be up so soon after getting his “sneaking around doing what the fuck ever” self in the bed. I’d told him to give me the keys. I didn’t need him chauffeuring me all over the place. As a matter of fact it was time I got a car of my own anyway. It would be easier for me to deal with Michelle, among other things, without my real-life stunt double following me around. Angelo acted all kinds of insulted, offered to get me a driver and whatever kind of car I wanted. He wasn’t fooling anyone though; he was paranoid about who or what I’d do if I could get around without him and it was obvious. We didn’t speak the rest of the way to the set.
The set was a warehouse beside a boat marina that they’d transformed into several scenes. We passed through a club dance floor, next to a back alley that looked like it was plucked right up from outside with manhole covers and a dumpster. There were swarms of actors, extras, and stagehands all over the place.
“My Queen Midas has graced us with her golden glemmied presence. You will win me a Globe and an Emmy? You will Glemmy my movie?”
I could only nod yes at this mountain of a woman who reminded me of an Amazonian warrior goddess. I immediately regretted not studying my script, because she looked like she had a bull-whip or a cattle prod hidden somewhere to torture disobedient actors. And she’d enjoy it, too.
“Don’t feel special, newbie, she says that shit to everyone,” Sadira called out.
She prowled toward us like a wanton alley cat. Angelo’s scent, shit any man’s scent probably, grabbed her attention within a ten-mile radius. It took all the refinement and etiquette training I had not to whoop her ass right then and there as she basically eye-fucked my fiancé. Angelo tensed beside me before letting my hand go and that almost sent me over the edge. I rolled my eyes behind her back as we fake hugged one another.
“The two of you need to go get into hair and makeup. Your first scene is dirty dancing and a boat chase,” the director called out as she went to speak to a cameraman.
Angelo had all but vanished into thin air by the time I turned around, and I wasn’t about to ask Sadira any damn questions. Sir’Tavius showed up just in time and we almost broke our necks simultaneously. The cause was about six feet three inches in bright yellow swimming trunks. His nomadic desert skin was oiled up and down, covering every muscle, divot, and dip. I didn’t even know I was holdin’ my breath until his large, bushy, barely tamed ponytail was out of sight and I exhaled.
“Uh, two questions. What the hell was the director talking about dirty dancing for, and who was that?”
“Bye, girl, because I see you ain’t read ya script. A: twerkin’; and B: Kai, your stupafine costar, the one you lockin’ lips with on the speedboat.” Sir’Tavius gave me an “I love you, bitch, but I’m so jealous I hate you” twisted glare.
Oh wow. The twerkin’, strippin’, dancing, whatever they want me to do won’t be a problem, but um, Kai and that body, oh, my damn. Did Angelo read my script and know about this kiss? He couldn’t have.
My nerves were all over the place while I looked around for Angelo, who was still nowhere to be found. We were in such a rush I’d left my purse in the car, and my phone and my pills, everything was out there.
“What’s the matter, Desi? You lookin’ a little flustered, boo,” Sir’Tavius asked, patting my arm.
“Nothing, I just need to calm down. Too much stress and it’s too early to drink.”
He nodded like he understood and took off, leaving me stranded.
“We’ll be ready for you on set in an hour, Des.”
The director sailed past with that announcement as Sir’Tavius reappeared, pulling me into my dressing room. He looked like he had a mouthful of feathers and was gonna burst if he didn’t get to tell someone something and fast.
“Girl, I got you some happy pills.” He handed me two long, oval-shaped pills.
“What are th
ey?”
He looked down at his hand and then back up at me without blinking. I took them, swallowing those things without water like we used to do back in the day. I quickly dressed in a red cocktail dress and sat myself down. Sir’Tavius quietly worked on my hair and makeup while I watched in the mirror. Even with all the surgery, movie makeup still made me look like a completely different, different person. Michelle would never recognize me like this. Never in a million years.
“That’s better; now you look you an actress. Um, is everything going okay? You ain’t goin’ over your lines or doing vocal exercises. Things all right with you and the boo?” His hands stilled in my hair and he locked eyes with me in the mirror.
I wanted a real friend outside of Big. Someone I could tell about Paris’s and Angelo’s funny ways.
“It’s all right, he might be cheatin’ he might not. Life will go on.”
“Karma kicks ass. Oh, and you ain’t get those from me. I stole them bitches from Sadira’s purse.”
“What the hell? You gave me somethin’ her crazy ass takes?” I swiveled around and glared at him. “What if she saw you?”
“Pssst, please, she too busy fuckin’ your man to seesaw anythang but that dang-a-lang.”
“Too busy doin’ what?”
I was up out that seat and dressing room so fast it’s a wonder I ain’t create a spark and combust from all the spritz in my hair. I planted a tight-lipped smile that said “go to hell” on my face as I marched past faces I didn’t know. They all knew me and spoke or nodded in greeting.
“The director and everyone’s down there; you’re going the wrong way,” someone pointed out.
I just nodded and kept going. The opposite of where everyone was meant I was going exactly the right way. If I’d have been thinking, I might have asked Sir’Tavius exactly where he’d seen them and why he’d waited so damn long to say something. Maybe he was waiting to see if I knew or wanted to know first; that’s how some folk do. They feel you out before they give you dirt, because all they’re really worried about is being held responsible if you have a complete meltdown after you find out.
Baby Momma Saga, Part 2 Page 6