by Pinky Dior
“So who is she, Emilio?” Milan asked with curiosity.
“Don’t worry about it, Milan. Me and you are over,” Emilio said bluntly, as he got dressed with his back towards her.
“How are you just going to up and leave me like that for some bitch?” Milan asked coldly.
“First off, she isn’t a bitch,” Emilio corrected her. “Milan, I told you that I’m done with you and I’m feeling someone else, so please…” Emilio turned his back to her as he packed his bags.
Milan couldn’t believe he was packing up and moving out. Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t believe he was dissing her for some other bitch. “Damn, is she really worth it, Emilio, worth leaving me?” Milan cried as she ran up to Emilio and grabbed his arm. “Please, baby!” she begged.
Emilio stopped in his tracks and sighed as he turned around, holding his duffle bag over his shoulder. “Milan, you will never have what this girl has. She is a very beautiful, articulate person who is everything that I could ever want in a woman. She’s my dream girl.” Emilio smirked as he walked out the door.
“Well, whoever your dream girl is will be dead!” Milan threatened. She laughed hysterically, but then broke down in tears at the same time.
Ever since that day Emilio had left her, she’d been following him, and one day he led her to his dream girl: Mercedes Carter. Milan couldn’t believe he was cheating on her with Don Carter’s daughter. It made her sick to her stomach.
Milan had tried to kill Mercedes; once at the club, and once when she was with her boyfriend while they were in Harlem, but her mission had failed. One day she jumped in the Cadillac that Emilio let her use from time to time because she always depended on him for a ride. Emilio had another car, so he didn’t mind. Since he had left her, he felt bad and left her with the Cadillac.
Milan was sleeping. She was parked outside of Mercedes’s house. She opened up her eyes to see her walking down the stairs and into her Benz. She rubbed her hands together as a devilish smirk appeared across her face. She waited until Mercedes drove off and got towards the end of the street. Milan pulled out of the parking spot and followed Mercedes until she got on the highway.
Mercedes was switching in and out of lanes and so was Milan. Every lane Mercedes switched into, Milan was right behind her. Milan drove like a crazy woman with her nose flared up, sitting close to the steering wheel. She hated Mercedes because she was the one who stole her man from her, and left her with a broken heart. Milan noticed Mercedes was speeding up, and so did she. She pressed her foot down on the gas, trying to keep up, but she also kept one foot on the brake as well. Milan quickly lost control of the wheel as she tried to swerve, and keep herself from hitting the back of another vehicle.
“Shit!” Milan banged her hand on the steering wheel as she passed Mercedes’s car. She looked in her rearview mirror and noticed her getting off at the exit.
Milan was familiar with these highways and she knew a shortcut to get back onto the road where Mercedes was getting off. Milan got off at the next exit and saw Mercedes driving. She followed her, and several minutes later Mercedes was driving down a smooth path lined with trees. Milan backed up and parked in someone’s driveway, directly across from where Mercedes was, and she had her in full view. She grabbed her binoculars and saw Mercedes pulling in the back of the house. Milan waited for her to come out. A short time later, she saw Mercedes coming out with several duffle bags.
“Jackpot!” Milan smirked as she lowered the binoculars. “This is where ya daddy kept all of his shit at.” Milan couldn’t believe it. She knew Don Carter had a stash somewhere, but no one could ever find it. Well, she was the lucky one.
After Mercedes pulled off, Milan looked around before getting out of the car. She rushed across the street, ran towards the back of the house, and then kicked in the door. She walked in, examining the house, and noticed an open door that led downstairs to the basement. She headed down the wooden stairs and noticed that Mercedes had grabbed everything. Milan knew that this was Don’s stash house, because the downstairs was set up like a stash house. Milan banged her hand against the wall, heated. For the many years she had worked for Don, he never paid her enough. She wasn’t satisfied; she wanted all the money.
***
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mercedes lied as she rolled her eyes. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for her gun. It was on the nightstand next to the bed where she left it, far out of her reach.
“Oh, really? What’s in the bag right there?” Milan asked. “Pass it here!” Milan demanded.
Mercedes slowly bent down, grabbed the bag off the bed, and tossed it at Milan. Milan bent down carefully, still pointing the gun at Mercedes. Mercedes tried to reach and get the gun, but Milan caught her and cocked back the gun.
“Bitch, don’t you think about touching that gun!” Milan barked, as she looked through the duffle bag, examining how much money was in there. She smiled in euphoria, thinking about what she would do with the bag of money. “That’s what I’m talking about!” Milan got up and threw the bag over her shoulder, still with the gun pointed at Mercedes.
“You got what you want!” Mercedes yelled.
“Nah.” Milan shook her head from side to side, pursing her lips together. “I want you…I want you dead!” she said through clenched teeth, with her eyes glistening, engulfed with tears that threatened to escape her eyes.
Mercedes didn’t know Milan like that, but she was her father’s people.
“I want you to die just like you killed Emilio!” Milan screamed as she shook the gun. “Yeah, I knew it was you who killed Emilio. I’m the one who called the cops on you bitch! I followed you. I’ve been following you. That was me in the black Cadillac shooting at you and your man that day at the club and all of that. I followed you and you didn’t even know. I didn’t know you were the little bitch he was screwing. I hated you ever since I found out it was you; I just kept it on the low. I wanted you dead! I didn’t know you had killed Emilio until I saw him come out in a body bag, you coldhearted bitch!” Milan screamed.
“He killed my father!” Mercedes clenched her teeth tightly together. “So he deserved to die!” Mercedes said without any remorse. Although she had once fallen in love with Emilio, she still had no remorse for killing him.
“Yeah, just like your little Spanish boyfriend, he deserved to die!” Milan chuckled, trying to intimidate Mercedes by pressing her buttons. “It’s only right if I kill you and put you with your people: your father, your uncle, and Chino.” Milan smirked.
Mercedes wanted to smack that smirk right off her face. She was lucky Milan had the gun in her hand or it would have been over for her. “Do what you have to do,” Mercedes said nonchalantly, with a shrug of the shoulder, not caring.
“You’re a smart bitch, Mercedes Carter,” Milan cooed, followed with a chuckle.
Mercedes watched her body movements, waiting for the right time to knock the gun out of her hand. Mercedes charged at Milan as she tried to shoot, but she missed her and shot at the wall. Both of them fell to the ground as they struggled for the gun on the floor. Milan tried to pull Mercedes’s feet as she struggled, and grabbed the gun, which was a couple of feet away from her. Mercedes kicked Milan in the nose, causing her head to snap back quickly and causing her to let go of her foot. She grabbed the gun and quickly got to her feet, looking down on Milan as she pointed the gun at her. Milan was on the floor, lying on her side and holding her bloody nose. She looked at her hand, which was filled with blood, and started laughing.
“You should have killed me when you had the chance to kill me, bitch!”
Mercedes didn’t even give Milan a chance to speak. She had a mean mug on her face as she lit up her body with bullets, emptying the clip. Mercedes studied the floor as she found all the shell casings and picked them up off the floor. She quickly placed her shirt over her body, then grabbed her bags and dipped out of the hotel. She went through the back exit and ran around to the front, hopped
in her car, and dipped. Mercedes wiped down the gun, pulled over, threw it in a trash bin in the alley and kept it moving. Mercedes couldn’t stay at that hotel. She had to drive around a while, trying to get her thoughts together. Mercedes was lucky that the hotel cameras weren’t working at the moment.
Mercedes didn’t want to go back to her mother’s house, because she would ask her too many questions. However, she decided it would be best to stay there anyway until shit settled down. Mercedes sat in her car, recalculating everything she’d been through, from losing Chino to losing her father, uncle, her maid, Claudia, and her best friend, Candy. She couldn’t believe that she was only eighteen and this was her third body in less than a year.
Chapter Thirteen
New feelings
After Mercedes left, Maria spent her time cleaning the house and listening to Cuban music. Later that night, she sat on the chair, staring in the mirror, admiring her beautiful face, which was now burned on one side. She hadn’t looked in the mirror since the day that she woke up in the hospital. She feared that she would grow to hate herself, so she pretended as if she was perfectly fine. Maria caressed the burned skin and a tear crept down the side of her face slowly. Maria felt as if she wasn’t beautiful anymore, because people always stared at her when she went out. That’s why she always stayed cooped up in the house.
Maria decided to go out to a little Cuban restaurant down in Spanish Harlem she had once heard of. She got in the shower, washing her body with Dove soap and then washing her hair as well. Maria stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel off the back of the door, wrapping it around her body. After emerging from the bathroom, Maria walked over to the closet and smiled at the expensive designer clothing that she had there. She pulled out a knee-length, cream-colored, silk strapless stress that showed off her back. Maria generously applied lotion to her body, before slipping into the dress. She moved her hips from side to side, as she squeezed into the dress.
Maria turned around, smiling, feeling herself all over again. She brushed down her hair so that it covered the side of her face, partially hiding her burn scar. Applying a cute golden glitter lip-gloss to her lips, Maria looked in the mirror with confidence as she ran her hands down the sides of her hips. She eased into her cream-colored, four-inch heels, and then grabbed her white clutch. Picking up the keys to one of her deceased husband’s cars, his Range Rover, she headed out to Spanish Harlem. It felt good to finally get out and enjoy her life as she used to do. Maria parked the car, hopped out, and walked into the Cuban restaurant and bar.
Soft Cuban music filled the bar. Maria looked around, feeling as if she was back at home again. The bar was filled with a lot of Cubans, Spanish people, and a few blacks. Maria sat at the bar and heard a familiar Cuban song come on, mixed with a little meringue. She bobbed her head to the music, and moved her shoulders to the rhythm of the beat. Maria told the bartender she wanted a Corona. Maria usually didn’t drink, but ever since her husband had died, she would drink on occasion. Maria watched as the bartender popped the top of the beer and carefully slid it across the table.
“Thank you.” She smiled and held the Corona up to her lips. Maria didn’t notice a man walk over in her direction, until he took a seat next to her.
“My man, can I have two Coronas please?” he told the bartender.
Maria looked over at him, sipped on her Corona, and turned her head away, looking in the opposite direction. He nodded his head as he returned with two Coronas in his hand and placed them down on the table.
“Thanks, man,” he thanked the bartender as he sipped on the Corona. “I see you jamming over there,” he smirked.
Maria looked over and saw the guy staring at her. “Yes. I love Cuban music.” Maria smiled. “It’s like music to my soul.”
“It’s beautiful music. Are you Cuban?”
“Of course I am.” Maria took his question offensively. “Don’t I look Cuban?”
“Well, yeah, I mean, you do, but you also look Puerto Rican.”
“Don’t disrespect me,” Maria joked as she laughed. “Straight up Cubana,” she sang the words as they rolled off her tongue, sounding seductive.
“Okay, okay, that’s what’s up.” He threw up his hands. “Ain’t nothing wrong with a Cuban woman. I actually think they are the most beautiful women that God created on this earth.” He winked at her as he gulped down the rest of his Corona. He had Maria blushing. She hadn’t felt like this since she met her husband.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t get your name.”
“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.” She smiled. “My name is Maria.”
“I’m Carlton.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Carlton.” Maria smiled as she extended her hand to shake his. He grabbed her hand and kissed it, without taking his eyes off hers.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you.”
Chills ran down her spine as she pulled her hand back and smiled. Maria wasn’t really into black men, but Carlton wasn’t a bad-looking, black man. He was brown-skinned with light brown eyes, a short fade filled with waves, and his gear was on point.
“So what’s a lovely lady like you doing here alone?”
“I just needed to get out.”
“I see you’re married,” he said, eyeing her diamond wedding ring.
Maria quickly hid her ring as she placed her hand on her lap. “Yeah, I was, but he’s deceased.” Maria held back the tears. She turned away as she felt them welling up in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It’s okay. You aren’t the bastard who killed him!” Maria said coldly.
“So did you grow up in the city, or—”
Maria cut him off. “No, I was born and raised in Cuba,” Maria said proudly. “I moved here when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter,” Maria reminisced.
“Oh, how old is she now?” he asked.
“She’s eighteen, but acts like she’s grown as hell.” Maria smiled, knowing she loved the hell out of her daughter.
“I bet she’s as beautiful as you.”
“Yes, matter of fact, she looks just like me.” Maria changed the subject. “So since you’re asking all the questions, it’s my turn now.”
“Go ahead. I have the whole night to listen to you.” He grabbed the other Corona and took small sips.
“Where were you born and what do you do for a living?”
“I was born and raised in Boston, but I moved out here, because I just loved the love people gave to me every time I came out here,” he said truthfully. “And right now, I’m not really working. I’m just trying to start up my own business.”
“That’s good. What kind of business?” Maria asked, but she didn’t let him answer. “A legitimate business or illegal?” Maria smirked as she finished the last sips of her Corona and placed it on the table, waiting for his response.
“It’s legitimate. Everything I do is legitimate,” he informed her. “What about you, what do you do?”
“Nothing,” Maria said, embarrassed. “I just sit home.”
“And why is a beautiful woman like you cooped up in the house?” he questioned, as he noticed her starting to get teary-eyed.
“I’m sorry.” Maria fanned her eyes as she looked up, trying not to let her tears come out. “I just get real emotional.”
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Maria didn’t want to tell him too much about her about her so soon, knowing she didn’t even really know him. However, she didn’t think he would harm her, so she continued talking. “Long story, but I almost died. I got trapped in a house that was on fire, but luckily they came in enough time to save me.” Maria sniffled, wiping away her tears. He noticed as she turned her head that her hair moved from her face, exposing her partially burnt face.
“You’re still beautiful to me,” he said, as he caressed her face.
Maria jumped back at his touch and smiled. “Thanks, Carl.” Maria smiled. He made her feel better
. “I’m sorry, can I call you Carl?” she apologized and let out a little chuckle.
“Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “You can call me anything you like.”
“Well, Carl, would you like to come over for dinner?” Maria asked. “Oh, wait… never mind; you’re a businessman, I don’t want to take you away from your work.”
“I will make an exception for you,” Carlton said.
Maria heard another one of her favorite Cuban songs come on. “Oh my God, this is my song!” she exclaimed.
“Would you like to dance with me?” he asked, hoping she’d say yes.
“Sure, why not? I can show you some moves.”
Maria got up and walked across the dance floor. She turned around and started dancing, as she pointed her finger at him to come onto the floor. Carlton smiled as he gulped down the rest of his Corona. He slammed it down on the bar and walked across the dance floor.
Maria turned around as she grinded her body against his, grabbing a whole grip of her hair. He gently grabbed her hips as he went along with the motions of them and to the beat of the music. Maria showed him a couple of dance moves on the dance floor as all eyes watched her. She still had her dance moves from way back, and she still had the body of a goddess.
As the Cuban music filled the bar, Maria closed her eyes and continuously danced. She reminisced about when she was dancing in the bar with Don. Her memories had taken over that moment, and after they were done dancing, Maria didn’t notice she had a crowd watching her. She smiled, covering her mouth in embarrassment as everybody applauded her. She eased off the dance floor with Carlton by her side, laughing.
“Damn, you can dance your ass off!” he exclaimed. “Seemed to me like you were in your own world.” They laughed in unison.
“Thank you,” Maria snickered. “Like I said, it’s like music to my soul.”