BFF's 2 (18 page)

With an attitude, I continued my search. Went to the basement then found myself back in Cedric's office. I stood in the doorway looking around. My eyes shifted to a mail tray on one of the shelves that I'd overlooked. Inside of the tray were envelopes that contained bills. But there were also four envelopes wrapped with a rubber band. The envelopes hadn't been opened, but there were letters inside. The letters came from the correctional facility where Paula Daniels was at. They were all addressed to him. Eager to see what she had written to him, I panicked as I tore open one of the letters. It was short, and according to her, she needed to speak to him about something important. She didn't say what it was until I read the next letter. That was when she got specific and wrote that it was imperative that she spoke to him about something with Jacoby. She stressed how sorry she was, apologized for trying to kill him, but said she felt as if he needed to know the truth.

I hurried to stuff the letters into my purse. Looked around for more of them, but didn't find any. Searched for a few minutes more then gave up. I left, feeling as if this situation would, eventually, turn ugly. Maybe Jacoby and I needed to get ahead of this and talk to Cedric? Seemed like Paula was eager to bust Jacoby out, and it was best that Cedric heard it from us, instead of her. I remained in the car in deep thought about what to do. And when my cell phone rang, I grabbed it from my purse and put the phone up to my ear.

“Hello,” I said.

“I have a question for you,” Cedric said in a serious tone.

My stomach twisted in a knot. I could feel a sheen of sweat forming on my forehead.

“Wha . . . what is it?”

“Why are you in my house?”

This time, my stomach hit the floor. I had no answer; my mouth was stuck.

“I have cameras in there,” he said. “Didn't want what happened to me before to happen again. I've seen you going through my things. And the only other question I have for you is why are those letters from Paula any concern of yours?”

I was cold busted. Couldn't think of a lie fast enough to get me out of this. I wasn't sure if my made-up explanation would suffice or not, but I went for it anyway.

“The truth is, I still love you, Cedric. A part of me regrets signing those divorce papers, and I could kick myself for doing so. I suspected that you were on the phone earlier with another woman and I was jealous. After you left my house, I attempted to follow you, but I lost you somewhere on the highway. I thought you would meet the woman here, so I came by to see what was up. You know how nosy I am, so I started looking around to see what I could find. Your relationship with Joy hurts me, and I didn't appreciate the letters I found from Paula. I hate her for what she tried to do to you, so I took the letters to dispose of them. You haven't been keeping in touch with her, have you? I truly hope not, Cedric, especially after what she did to you.”

There was a crisp silence over the phone. I hoped that Cedric believed me, but maybe I rambled on too long. I waited with bated breath to hear his response.

He cleared his throat. “Hell, no, I haven't been keeping in touch with her. I couldn't care less about what she has to say, and I have no intentions to read those dumb letters. If she continues to write them, I'm going to turn them over to the police. I already have some people involved who will make those letters stop. As for Joy, she's a nice woman. I don't want you having any regrets about our divorce, only because I do believe you made the right decision for both of us. So don't sweat it, baby. You know damn well that you can have a piece of me whenever you want it. All you have to do is say the word.”

Cedric laughed. So did I, feeling a bit relieved. Just a little, because I was still hoping like hell that the letters stopped.

Keith's big dick was so far up in me that I couldn't even think straight. I couldn't move and I was on the verge of a shaky orgasm. Make-up sex between us was always the best. This time around, I apologized for the incident with Evelyn. I made Keith feel as if I were on his side, but the truth was, I was caught in the middle.

I'd spoken to Evelyn and expressed how sorry I was about Keith's ill treatment. I tried to explain his position, and Evelyn insisted she understood. What I didn't tell her, though, was that I'd gone to see Bryson. I didn't find it necessary to tell her my thoughts about what I discovered during our conversation. That would only give her more ammunition, and I didn't want to stir her up.

What I wanted was more of Keith. He was now down below, sucking my well dry. My thighs were locked on his face and my eyes were squeezed tight. I could barely catch my breath, and I pounded his back, letting him know how spectacular his tongue tricks felt.

“Baby, you are the motherfucking man! My man, so keep doing that shit, only how you can do it!”

I loved to stroke his ego. Seeing him smile always made me feel good. His tongue snaked in and out of my folds. He tickled my pearl then turned me over to tackle my goodness from behind. I kicked, screamed and begged for him to keep at, so I'd come again. Within minutes, my request was honored. I was spent; he was too. He crawled next to me in bed and lay flat on his back while taking deep breaths. While staring at the ceiling, he rubbed his chest.

“Did I tell you how much I love you today?” he said.

I turned sideways and rubbed my hand on his chest. “No, you didn't tell me, but you sure did show me.”

Keith massaged my ass when I laid my leg across his. “I did, didn't I? But I'm gon' need for you to calm your hot self down. Just so you know, you are wearing my ass out.”

“Good. And when I get finished with this shower, I'm going to wear you out some more. So get ready.”

I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom to take a shower. I thought Keith was going to join me, but he didn't. With him not being in the shower with me, I took my time and indulged in a lengthy one. I shaved my legs and trimmed my toenails. It took me about an hour to get finished, and after I was done, I opened the door and could hear Keith downstairs talking. Better yet, yelling at somebody. I was so sure that Evelyn had shown back up, but as I jetted down the stairs, I saw Keith standing in the living room with Bryson. Their argument was pretty intense. I'd never seen them go at it like this before. They stood face to face with each other, talking shit.

“I'll say it again,” Keith hissed. “Watch your mouth or I will drop your punk ass on the floor.”

Bryson folded his arms across his buffed chest and a smirk appeared on his face. “Do what you must, little brother. The floor is all yours.”

I quickly ran over and squeezed my short self in between them. “Whatever is going on here, it doesn't need to be settled with a fistfight. I know the two of you can do better than this, so calm down and chill.”

Keith ignored me and inched forward, squeezing me more. “It can be settled when he gives our mother her money back. If not, I will handle you myself.”

Bryson stepped forward and I eased out of the way. “I will give the money back when I choose to. This really ain't your damn business, and I'm getting tired of your threats.”

“Maybe so. But here's a promise.”

Keith reached out and slammed his fist right at Bryson's jaw. The blow sent him staggering backward, and he tripped over the table behind him and fell hard.

“How was that for a promise?” Keith said. “If you don't give the money back, another one of those punches will be coming your way.”

Bryson tightened his fist and charged toward Keith like a raging mad bull. He wound up slamming Keith on the floor and they went at it tough. So tough that I had to scramble out of the way.

“Stop it,” I yelled to get their attention. “Or else I'll call the police!”

My police threat fell on deaf ears and frightened no one. They kept at it and were pounding the hell out of each other. Keith was getting the best of Bryson, but then all of a sudden, the tables turned. He punched Keith in his mouth and I witnessed my man's blood splatter. I rushed in and started hitting Bryson on the back of his head to distract him so Keith could get the upper hand again. My interference distracted Bryson, but it didn't halt his punches. The next one he delivered landed right at my face, particularly at my right eye that throbbed and felt as if it had been knocked from the socket. I backed away and held my face. Keith lost it. But as he charged at Bryson, he sent Keith backing up with a hard blow to his stomach that dropped him to one knee.

“Now what, motherfucker?” Spit flew from Bryson's mouth and his chest heaved in and out. He pounded it hard then looked at me. “You dyke-ass bitch, stay the hell out of family affairs.”

I was stunned by Bryson's actions, and I couldn't hold back all that was inside of me. My man was hurt and so was I.

“Screw you, you grimy, down-low-ass nigga. How in the hell you gon' call me a dyke, and yo' ass out there fucking men? Or should I say, allowing them to fuck you?”

The direction of Bryson's eyes shot over to Keith. His eyes, however, were locked on me. I could tell he was waiting for me to say more, but I fell back on the couch and held my eye.

Keith took deep breaths then addressed Bryson. “Get the hell out of here. Now! And don't you ever come back!”

Bryson stood for a moment, looking as if he wanted to say something or as if he wanted to apologize. Instead, he rushed off and swung the door open. He left, leaving it wide open.

Keith limped over to me while holding his side. “Why did you say that to him?” he asked. “Do you know something that I don't?”

I was about to tell him that my words had slipped, and I said them to upset Bryson. But then I decided against it. “I don't know if it's true or not, but Evelyn said—”

“To hell with what Evelyn said,” Keith shouted. He shouted so loudly that my whole body shook.

“You're right,” I hurried to say. “But please go talk to your brother. He has all the answers you're looking for.”

Sweat was on the thick wrinkles that lined Keith's forehead. The mean mug was locked there, even when he rubbed my face and bent over to kiss my swollen eye. “Put some ice on that. I'm leaving to go find Bryson. I'll be back later.”

Before I could say anything, he jetted.

 

 

I was so worried about Keith being gone. Hours had passed, and I kept calling his cell phone, but he wouldn't answer. My eye was bloodshot red, and by tomorrow it would be worse. I lay across the bed, wondering where my man was and if he was okay. I now regretted what I'd said to Bryson. Keith seemed very concerned about it, and that was the only thing that probably caused him to leave. If something happened to him again, because of me, I would never forgive myself.

 

 

I wasn't sure what time it was, but when I woke up, Keith sat on the bed next to me. He touched my face and apologized for what Bryson had done.

“You don't have to apologize,” I said, slowly sitting up. “It wasn't your fault.” I looked at the gloom expression on his face, knowing that he had caught up with Bryson. “So, how did it go? Did you talk to him?”

Keith nodded. “I did.”

“And?”

“And I don't know what to believe. He told me about your visit. I was surprised to hear that you went to go see him, without saying anything to me.”

“I wanted to, but I didn't want to confront you with something that may not have been true.”

“Regardless, you should have said something to me. In not doing so, it makes me feel as if I can't trust you. I don't like secrets, Trina. I thought you learned your lesson about keeping them.”

“I have, but this situation was different. With Evelyn being the source who provided the information, I wasn't sure how to handle things. That's why I went to go see Bryson, so that he could defend what she'd said.”

Keith fell back on the bed and lay flat on his back. He put his hands behind his head and gazed at the spinning ceiling fan. “After speaking to him,” he said, “what's your take on the matter? What conclusion did you come to?”

I lay silent for a while then slightly shrugged. I didn't want to say what I thought for real. I could tell Keith was hurt; I didn't want to hurt him anymore.

“The truth, Trina. I want the truth.”

“Based on how I was when I tried to hide my preference from everyone, I have to be honest and say that I believe Bryson is on the down low. I'm not a hundred percent sure, but Evelyn was paid a substantial amount of money to keep her mouth shut. If you mother is missing some money, maybe that's the money Bryson gave to Evelyn.”

“He has a gambling problem, and he's always taking money from the family stash. Just not that much. Either way, you didn't believe him when he told you he wasn't involved with men?”

“No. Unfortunately, I didn't.”

Keith lay silent for a minute, and then he got off the bed. He opened the bathroom door then turned to face me. “Just so you know, I didn't believe him either.”

Keith shut the door behind him, after he went into the bathroom. I shook my head, upset that there seemed to be no end to the drama.

I was sitting on the couch, eating buttery popcorn and watching
Scandal.
I was so into it that I barely heard the knocks on my door. Whoever it was they were going to stay out there because, number one, the person didn't buzz me, and number two,
Scandal
was too good to be interrupted. I ignored the knocks then heard Bryson's voice, loud and clear.

“Open the door! You and I got ourselves a little problem !”

I rolled my eyes and continued to chomp on my popcorn. “Go away, Bryson! I'm busy.”

I got back to watching
Scandal,
and minutes later, I heard a loud thud. The second thud was louder, and the third one caused the whole door to break off the hinges and come crashing down. I jumped and sent the bowl of popcorn flying at Bryson, when he rushed in. He resembled a madman in a horror movie. Sweat ran down his face, his teeth ground and his shirt was ripped. There was also a long scar on the side of his face. I quickly moved out of the way and jumped on top of the couch. I lifted my foot to keep him away from me and threatened to kick.

“Bitch, didn't I tell you to keep your motherfucking mouth shut!”

I played clueless. “I didn't say a word to anyone. What are you talking about?”

My eyes shifted toward the doorway. If I could just make it to the door and run to the elevator, security would see me. Then someone would be able to help me. But if I couldn't make it to the doorway, there would be no way out of this.

I took my chances and jumped over the couch. I sprinted toward the door, but this was one time I hated my hair was long. Bryson grabbed my hair from behind, yanking it so hard that I fell backward. He straddled the top of me, and all I remembered seeing was him raising his fist and slamming it into my face. After that, I saw darkness, but felt numerous blows being delivered to my body. Blows that made my insides burn and hurt—hurt so bad that I seriously wanted to die.

 

 

I didn't know what day it was, how many hours had gone by or where I was at. For a while, I thought I was dead because of the numerous white lights that flashed before me. The last things I could picture in my mind were Bryson's angry face and his powerful fists. That was all, until somebody shook my shoulder and kept calling my name. I cracked my eyes open and everything in front of me was a blur. I could hear a voice, and the person in front of me looked to be a doctor.

“Next of kin,” he said. “Any family members? If so, who would you like for me to reach out to?”

The doctor showed me a piece of paper and pen. He placed it on the table in front of me and I began to write. The person's name and number I wrote was Trina's. Underneath her name, I scribbled the word, sister. After that, my eyes shut again.

 

 

I woke up, hearing a bunch of chatter. My vision was still blurred when I opened my eyes. I could barely focus. I blinked and saw Trina standing next to me. She squeezed my hand with hers and kept calling my name. I wasn't sure if I was dreaming. Trina wasn't smiling and a deeply concerned look was on her face. She called my name again. This time, I nodded to let her know that I'd heard her.

“Can you hear me?”

I nodded again and spilled a soft, “Yes.”

She released a deep breath. “Thank God. Thank you, Jesus.” Apparently, she'd been praying for me. I opened my mouth to speak again, but it hurt so badly because of the tube in my mouth. With that, I stayed silent.

“Don't worry,” Trina said. “You're going to be fine.”

A slow tear dripped from the corner of my eye. My whole body was hurting. I tried to move around, but couldn't. Tried to move my arms, couldn't do that either. Attempted to move my toes, but no luck. I closed my eyes and had flashbacks of Bryson beating the shit out of me. This time, I didn't have to exaggerate like I did when Cedric attacked me. This was real. Everything that I played out in my head was real. Bryson tried to kill me. I wondered, who stopped him? Thought about if he was in jail. Hopefully he was, but I seriously didn't know.

What I did know was that he'd found out what I'd told Trina, only, about his down-low status. I had only shared that information with her. I begged her not to say anything. I knew that if she did, it would come to this. It was evident that she didn't care. It probably pleased her heart to see me laid up like this. She and Kayla always wanted to see me at my lowest point. Well, this was it. I hoped she was happy, even though she didn't look as if she was.

I opened my eyes and stared at Trina. This time, she displayed a forced grin. For some reason, I could feel her squeezing my hand again, but I couldn't feel much else but a severe headache. It was difficult for me to speak, but I had to ask her a question. I needed to know something, and I wanted to make her feel horrible for betraying me.

I stretched my mouth and mumbled to her. “Why?”

Trina inched closer so she could hear me. “Why what? What did you say?”

“Why did you tell Bryson what I'd told you? I begged you not to . . . to say anything. You promised me that you wouldn't. Why, Trina? Did you want him to kill me?”

A fast tear fell down Trina's face. She couldn't even respond. After a few minutes, she whispered that she was sorry.

Yeah, I was sorry too. Sorry that, eventually, she'd have to pay for running her big mouth.