It was William, Clara’s ex-husband and the same William who had caused him to sin by committing murder. Only his sin had ended up being committed against the wrong person. It was William he had tried to kill by filling the windshield-wiper fluid reservoir and the oil reservoir of his car with gasoline. He had even gone as far as coating the car in gasoline to ensure William didn’t walk away alive, but that wasn’t how it had played out. Instead of William being the one to get in his car, Clara’s best friend, Rita, had walked up to it. Angelo Sr. had been hiding too far away to stop her from getting in it, and when he’d seen Clara turn the corner with a cigarette in her mouth, he’d known it was already too late. Seconds later, the car had exploded, and he’d fled the scene, believing he had killed them both.
He wanted William dead because he felt that William was the one keeping Clara from building a bond with their son, and also that William was standing in the way of him reuniting the family he and Clara had made together. With William out of the way, Angelo Sr. would have the leeway he needed to try to rekindle what he and Clara had had so many years ago.
She was his first, and even at that time, she’d been the only woman he made love to. The opportunity to stray had presented itself on many occasions with the women in his congregation, but he had refused to commit the same sin of sexual immorality twice. If he lay down with another woman, she would be his wife first.
Repeatedly praying to God over it wasn’t working, and the only solution he could find was doing away with William for good. As the car had exploded, so had his heart, and for days after the accident, he hadn’t left the mortuary. Heartbroken from his crime, he’d gone to check his mailbox, and there he’d found love. Clara had made it out alive, and although she had had to hide for a while, she had promised to come back to be with him, and she had. Watching William help Clara into the backseat of his limo had been the last straw for them both, and their murders would be the only sin he was willing to commit twice.
“If you’re going to keep the money, I need you to produce me a body. I missed him in Atlanta because he was walking out of his lawyer’s office and I was too far for accuracy. Get him instead, and we’re even,” Angelo Sr. said as he watched Clara’s eyes flutter like she was trying to open them.
“I’ll do you one even better, big dog,” she said, barking, and he hung up the phone, not in the mood to listen to another one of her psychotic breaks.
Angelo Sr. dashed into the hallway and started screaming for the nurses to come to Clara’s room, but they were already headed in her direction. Her vital signs had been picked up over five minutes earlier on the machine they had been monitoring her with, and the nurses were waiting for her doctor to return before they walked in.
“She’s trying to open her eyes,” he yelled excitedly, and for the first time since his arrival, the nurse practitioner felt that he genuinely wanted what was best for his wife. She asked him to step out of the room as the doctors hovered over Clara, and she followed him out.
“I did find information on her in our cancer unit, but she hasn’t been a patient here in years. Her records were transferred to a hospital in Atlanta, but under the name of Clara Jones. Do you have a copy of your marriage certificate? We need to request that they send over her recent records, but we need your permission to request them.”
“You’re a hospital, for Pete’s sake, and this is an emergency situation. Can’t they send them over, anyway?” he said, exasperated.
Before the nurse practitioner could answer, he remembered the records he had watched the doctor hand William after each of her appointments as he’d safely hidden behind magazines and newspapers. She was a cash-only customer and had William listed as her medical power of attorney. There was no way the hospital in Atlanta would release anything to him. He decided that he needed to break into William’s house or the condo and retrieve the records himself.
“I’m sorry. I just love my wife and am freaking out over all of this. I have copies of her medical treatment records from the past six years outside in my truck.”
“You keep her medical records from the past six years in the car?” Something about the man in front of her wasn’t adding up.
“Of course I do,” he said with a smile. “Just in case something like this happens. I’ll be right back.” She watched him walk to the elevator, wondering if he’d really come back.
* * *
It took him seven days to return with the information after breaking into William’s house, but as it turned out, that was a waste of his time. The hospital already had what they needed by then. Clara had both eyes open when he returned and the electrolarynx in her hand.
“Who’s the crazy bitch you hired to kill me?” she asked through a series of struggling breaths.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, looking over his shoulder, as if expecting the police to come in and arrest him. Clara must have read his mind.
“No one knows you put a hit out on me but me, so stop looking for the police. I heard you on the phone. Funny thing about that is it was your voice that woke me up. If that isn’t irony, I don’t know what the fuck is.”
“Clara, I swear—”
“You swear what to who, demon seed? You called the psycho bitch from my room’s phone, and I heard your lying ass request a refund. Then the crazy bitch called back, asking to speak to big dog because the phone got hung up in her face. Apparently, her crazy ass got the front desk and asked to be transferred to my room. I told her you weren’t here, and she asked if I could take a message for her. She wants you to call her back so you can hear her new plan and who she was going to murder for you instead. She wanted you to know she is sorry that she couldn’t kill me and make it look like I died because my lungs failed. To hire a fruit cake like that to kill me, you have to be the dumbest motherfucka I know.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t mean to hire someone to kill me? Then tell me how this rare accident happened.”
“I was working at the—”
“Shut the fuck up!” she demanded.
Angelo Sr. rushed over to her bed, fell on his knees, begged her for forgiveness, and tried to explain why he had tried to have it done, but it didn’t matter now, because Clara knew she wouldn’t be released from the hospital. Death had finally wrapped her in its veil, and she was holding on to her painful life only to speak with Angelo one last time.
“Hush. Save the begging for forgiveness for judgment day, you false prophet. I’m not going to ruin Angelo Jr.’s life more than we already have. Your little secret will die with me, but please get in contact with him and make him come and see me.”
“Why should I believe you when you’ve still been sneaking away to go see William?” The confidence had returned to his voice, and the anger too. He prepared himself for the lie he thought she would tell, but she took another route.
“Sneaking to go see my husband? The man I left you and our son for the first time and the same man who could afford to save my life without stealing from his congregation to do it? You are officially the dumbest motherfucka I know. Tell my son to come and see me before my next call is to the police.”
“I’ll reach out to him, but I can’t promise you he will come.”
“Well, you better make sure he does. I’m ready to check into that upper room the old folks used to talk about. I’m fighting until I see him.”
“Don’t say that. Let’s pray.”
“You won’t be praying over me, Lucifer. And why shouldn’t I be truthful? Hell, if I don’t die soon, you will kill me, anyway. That crazy bitch did a damn good job of shortening my time, but God said I had something I needed to make right first, and it doesn’t have shit to do with you, Azazel.” She pressed the button on the side of her bed to put herself in a seated position before she continued. “When I came back, I really hoped things would work out between us. I tried hard to fall in love with you again, Lord knows I did, but it wasn’t there. I g
uess you know that I’ve been using William for more than money to pay for my hospital treatments?”
He nodded his head, acknowledging that he did know this.
She went on. “Well, I was still in love with him but didn’t realize it until after I said, ‘I do,’ to you. Do you know that nasty muthafucka married our goddaughter? He’s walking around Atlanta with Rita’s baby girl, as if he wasn’t one of the people that used to change her diapers.” She laughed and shook her head. “When I found that out, it broke my heart in two. I’m sure you were planning to kill him next, but you don’t have to. Once I talk to Angelo and tell him the truth about my past, which he has been working so hard to find out, William will be doing life in jail for Rita’s murder.”
He shot his eyes up at her and wondered if he should confess to his wrongdoings but decided against it.
“I know William didn’t kill her,” she said. “There was gasoline leaking from his car, and when I threw my cigarette down, thinking it was water on the ground, the motherfucker blew up. You’re the only person that knows the truth about it too. Let that pedophile rot in jail for breaking my heart twice, and don’t worry about Junior. Once I’m gone to glory, he won’t have to work another day in his life. Now get your ass out of my room, Bishop. Take this as our last goodbye. Like you said, I’m going to rest in peace again.”
“I never wanted it to end this way.”
“And you never wanted us to begin the way we did, either. Now leave, and please get you some pussy besides mine. I took your virginity, but there’s a lot better than this worn-out pin cushion I got. You already headed to hell. Might as well get you a good nut first.”
Angelo Sr. walked over to her and kissed her lips one last time, and to his surprise, she didn’t try to stop him.
* * *
William got in his car and held his heart. He was sure Meagan had just broken it. He needed to talk to someone, and the only person he wanted to talk to was missing in action. He called the hospital that her driver had told him he dropped her off at.
“Can I be transferred to Clara Jones’s room, please?” he said when someone answered.
After a brief delay, the woman on the other end asked him to hold while she transferred him. He let out a sigh of relief and then realized someone was trying to reach him on the other line. He picked up. It was Meagan.
“Is everything okay at the house? I really want to come back home,” she said.
“I got the window fixed, but the alarm company won’t come out until the morning.” Remembering he had Clara possibly waiting on the other line, he put Meagan on hold.
“Hello . . . sir? Are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“There was no answer in Ms. Jones’s room. You may want to try back in the morning. She might be asleep.”
William had forgotten that it was close to two in the morning and thanked the lady for her time. He switched back to the call with Meagan.
“Stay the fuck there, like I told you to, until everything is okay at home, understand me?” He knew he needed some time to figure things out and to drive to Savannah to check on Clara in person. Meagan remaining at the hotel would provide just that.
He didn’t feel safe at the house, either, and decided to get himself a hotel room for the night, which was a smart move, because Devin was on his tail. He pulled into the hotel, gave the valet his keys, and then vanished through the doors.
* * *
“I’m going in,” Devin said, unbuckling his seat belt.
“Hell nah! They have cameras everywhere. If you’re going to do this now, you’ll have to play it smart. Let’s call it a night. We’ll get that bitch in the morning,” J. Seed instructed as he followed the valet to see where he had parked William’s car before they drove off. He promised Devin they’d be back by six in the morning.
An hour later Devin lay on J. Seed’s couch, his mind whirling with thoughts of Meagan. He wondered if she had made it to her hotel safely and if she was okay. He sent her a text but got no answer. He called her number and got her voicemail. He knew he was making a stupid move, but he wanted her to know that everything would be all right. He left a message.
“I know you’re mad at me, so you’re sending me to voicemail, and I don’t blame you. I’m sorry she hit you, and I’m even sorrier that I took you there. I wasn’t thinking straight. Tomorrow I’m getting rid of all my problems, starting with your husband. He’s standing in our way, and I know after I do it, you might hate me or even tell the police, but I got to do what I feel in my heart. However the shit turns out, just know that a nigga loves you and only you. Good night, baby.”
He hung up the phone and got a sick feeling in his stomach. It was the bitch in him from playing Mama to his siblings whenever their mother was too stressed out to handle all seven of them. His intuition was trying to tell him something, and he chose to ignore it, but it wouldn’t turn off. It was telling him to get his ass off that couch, head over to Meagan, and have her erase his message, but if this was the way the cards were supposed to play out, then so be it. If he ever believed in anything, it was love, and that was exactly what he had for Meagan. Nothing mattered but her, not even the baby growing in Tesha’s stomach, one that carried his DNA. He was sure it was his child. That was why he didn’t mind giving her the abortion money after signing his contract and depositing his check.
“What’s this for?” Tesha asked as she stared at the stack of money he had placed on her nightstand.
“The money to go handle that tomorrow.”
“Handle what?”
“That,” he answered and nodded at her stomach.
“Big badass, famous Diablo scared to use his words, but he’s supposed to be a rapper. Nigga, please. You fuck me raw almost every fucking day and nut in me like you’re saying you hope I get pregnant, and now you stroll up in my place, talking about, ‘Handle that.’ Handle what, you sissy bitch? Say it if you mean it.” She climbed out of bed and stood in his face. “Say it, Devin. What do you want me to do with that money?”
“I want you to cut the rest of my ties to you the right way, so I don’t have to pay to have it done the wrong way.”
She slapped him.
“Who is this bitch? And don’t say there ain’t one. You’ve never talked that shit to me. That new pussy has you tripping. I’m the bitch that split that burger and fries with you because you couldn’t afford to feed us. It was me reading you the fucking dictionary because your dumbass struggles with pronunciations but wants to be the biggest rapper alive.”
“Why do y’all hoes always do that shit?”
“I ain’t no ho.”
“Me and a few niggas I know from around the way beg to differ. You want to debate it?”
Her silence gave him his answer, and once it became awkward, she asked, “What am I doing?”
“You throwing shit in my face that you accepted while we were together. You think I’ve forgotten how you rode for me, because I’m calling it quits with you? Hell nah, I haven’t forgotten shit you did with or for me, and I appreciate that shit from my heart, but let’s be real. I ain’t forgotten about them niggas I caught you with, either, or the lies you told so you could creep with them because my ass was broke and they had a few dollars. Answer this for me. Why is it that now that I have finally made, it means that I’m supposed to stay stuck with you because you were there during the struggle, and when you let my struggle force you to break bad on me at least once a week? I don’t owe you shit but that abortion money.”
He escorted himself out of her house, and she followed behind, calling him every foul name she could think of. If he had been any other dude from their neighborhood, she would have been slapped for half the shit she said, but he wasn’t them, and the truth was, he loved her too. She was second on the list, and first place was becoming available, and he wouldn’t let anything or anyone stand in his way of being with Meagan. Tesha had to go, and so did the baby she was carrying.
After
he drove off, leaving Tesha standing in the middle of the street, crying, she began blowing his cell phone up. He read a few of her text messages, one in which she confessed to be fucking with a “real man” on the side, and the one where she lied about being pregnant by someone else. But after she threatened to tell the police about all the robberies she knew he had committed over the years with his boy J. Seed, he tossed the cell out of the car window on Interstate 75 heading south. Vowing to crush her soul was what made him walk into her job with Meagan on his arm.
Meagan, that was all he wanted, and after getting signed, he knew she was all he needed. Her husband, the suspicious-ass limo driver, and anyone else who thought they could cause her pain would die by his hands.
He forced himself to fall asleep on J. Seed’s couch, at peace with the decision he had made.
* * *
Meagan saw her messages and missed calls from Devin, but he was dead to her at the moment. His immature decision-making had gotten her hit in the face. There was nothing he could say right then that would allow her to forgive him for it.
She wanted to go back home and lie in her bed, but William had killed that possibility, and now she was alone in her hotel room. The strawberries had sat out for too long and had gone bad, but both bottles of champagne were still there to keep her company. After drinking a bottle by herself, she called her secretary, Stacey.
“Hello. Are you busy?” she said when Stacey picked up on the fourth ring.
“No. I was sleeping. Is there something wrong, Mrs. Tolliver? It’s late, and I don’t think you’ve ever called me outside business hours,” her secretary said, turning on her bedside light, feeling slightly irritated by the call.
She hated Meagan. There wasn’t a nice way to put it, and she had earned the right to. Meagan made her the fall guy, the one who took the blame for every mistake Meagan made. If she didn’t get one of her models a gig, it was Stacey’s fault. Royalty checks sent out late? That was Stacey’s fault too. And if William beat her ass and sent her to the office with shades on her face, Stacey caught the attitude for his abuse too. However, her employer paid her a very nice salary to be that fall guy, and for that alone, she had reported to work every day for the past five years with a smile on her face. But Meagan calling her house phone at three in the morning was more than a surprise: it was as rare as a confirmed UFO sighting.
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