Pink Lips (16 page)

“Your girlfriend is going to be okay,” the doctor said as he looked Duke in the eyes. “As long as she cleans the wound thoroughly, then it should heal nicely. I'm going to write a prescription for pain, have a nurse remove that IV from her arm, and she can leave.”

“Thank you, Doc.” Duke shook his hand before making his way back into the room.

“Let's go.” Willow met him at the door.

“You gotta wait for the doctor.”

“Duke, you can wait. I'm leaving. I don't like hospitals. Because this is a gunshot wound, it's protocol for them to call the cops, and I sure as fuck don't like them motherfuckers. So if you want to wait, that's on you.” She pushed by him.

Duke obliged as they walked down the hallway. “So who shot you?”

“My sister,” she responded coldly.

“Word?”

“Thank you for coming,” Willow said to him, changing the subject as they made it outside.

“Come to my place; let me take care of you.” Duke wrapped his arms around her gently. “I make some bomb-ass noodles.” He smiled.

“I don't eat that shit.” Willow grinned.

“We will find something for you to eat then.” Duke kissed her forehead. “Now wait here and let me go get my whip.”

Willow could see Duke's pearl-white Mercedes CLK 500 sitting on 22's pull up in front of the hospital as she adjusted the makeup on her face. The vibrations from his sound system shook
the foundation of the hospital as the beat echoed throughout her eardrum.

She walked to his whip as his eyes pierced through her body, undressing her a little more with each step she took. After entering the car, the smell of his cologne danced inside of her nostrils, making her love his scent even more.

The gold in his mouth glistened from the light that came on from her opening up the door. He was wearing Polo everything and his smile was therapeutic to her in some way. His smile always put her mind at ease.

“You feeling better?” He reached over and kissed her lips.

“Somewhat,” she told him as she continued to kiss his lips, “thank you for being here for me tonight; it meant a lot.”

“I love you.” He gazed at her. “I love the fuck outta you, shorty, and that's what you do for the people that you love.”

Willow sat with chills as each word rolled off of his tongue. She was scared of love. She had never had the chance to experience it the right way, and it was true what people said: you feared what you didn't know. Her heart melted in her chest, and flowed to her stomach as her pulse slowed down. “I love you, too,” she said as they drove into the night.

They pulled up to Duke's apartment building; neither of them wanted to get out. They were too caught up in their moment of love that they just sat there as Cupid's arrow shot into both of them repeatedly.

Duke was forgetting about Melee more and more. He loved her, but what he felt for Willow was way deeper, and each day that she stayed missing, made him love Willow more. He had forgotten how it felt to be connected to someone until now. He was in love, and as he looked into her big marble-like eyes, what he was feeling was real.

“Did you see that?” Willow asked Duke as she looked out the back window.

“Naw, I didn't see nothing, baby.” Duke closed his eyes and leaned his head back in his plush seat.

The sound of the pistol going off ripped through their ears as if they were right next to a fireworks display, listening to it go off, with no protection. The echo of the ear-splitting bang carried on for a good minute before Willow actually realized that they were being shot at.

A burning sensation hit her like a deer caught in headlights; it felt like something slit her throat. She panicked as she ran her fingers across her neck and blood gushed onto them.

She looked over at Duke and he was shaking while holding his side. His body was in shock and from the way blood oozed out of his mouth, she could tell he had been shot.

The bullets kept coming as Willow managed to open the door and get out. With her hand on her neck, catching the nonstop flow of blood, she fell onto the hard pavement of the street. Tears filled her eyes as she started to pant for air. Her arms felt heavy and she couldn't move no matter how hard she tried.

The barrage of bullets stopped and she could see a truck speed off down the road. She recognized the brand of the truck, but the sound of Duke choking on his own blood interrupted her from thinking straight.

Willow lay there with her shirt covered in blood unable to think. Her thoughts patronized her, so close to her grasping, until they escaped her mind.

What just happened?
she kept asking herself as her vision grew blurry. Her eyes started playing tricks as her vision kept going in and out. She bellowed out a loud scream, which exhausted her body, and before she could do anything else, she blacked out.

The sounds of sirens awakened her as bright lights flashed inside her pupils. Willow was on a stretcher with pressure being applied to her throat. She looked around at the EMT and the paramedic asked her questions that she didn't respond to. She looked past them and there was Kail, standing at the back of the ambulance.

“Kail, what happened?” Willow asked as agonizing heat attacked her throat with each word she managed to speak.

“Don't talk,” Kail snapped while wiping her eyes.

The aides in the ambulance forced Willow to lie down as she tried to get up. The ambulance stopped and she didn't hear sirens anymore. She saw the doors open up from the outside as the aides started to pull the stretcher out of the ambulance. Her neck was still burning; it felt as though she was in a dream fighting to wake up. They rolled her inside of the back of the hospital.

Willow wanted to ask questions, but she lay there while they rolled her into an operating room. What happened to Duke crossed her mind while a group of nurses appeared around her. She tried to speak, but talking hurt, so she continued to lie there, gazing into the many lights that lined the ceiling. She felt a prick in her arm, she looked down, and there was an IV piercing her skin. A nurse told her to count to ten and by the time she got to five, her eyes closed and she drifted away in a deep sleep.

•  •  •

Junior walked through the front door of his parents' mansion as security nodded their heads at him in a speaking gesture. The air filled with a sweet, musky scent as he entered the room. A delightful combination of woodsy aftershave with a hint of clean perspiration could be smelled from a few feet away. It was intoxicating to the housekeepers as they found themselves inhaling deeply every chance they could when the young man walked past.

“It's done.” Junior walked onto the balcony where Evelyn was sitting, enjoying her morning coffee.

“That's good news.” She took a bite of the toast from the plate on a stainless silver tray. “Did he get both of them or just one of them?”

“Both of them from what he told me.” Junior sat across from her.

“So, Duke and Willow are finally done for.” She smiled as she stirred her coffee.

“Willow?” Rock asked as he stepped onto the balcony. He was wearing a silk pajama set.

“Just some girl that Duke was fooling around with so I had them both killed.” Evelyn smiled.

“How did she look?” Rock asked, looking at Junior.

“I told you she was just some—”

“Shut the hell up,” Rock said, cutting Evelyn off.

“I don't know, Pops; I didn't see her.” Junior's eyes went from his mother to his father. “Why y'all making them faces?”

“Is it her?” Rock asked Evelyn as he grabbed her face, his hands squeezing her mouth together with force. “Evelyn, I swear, you better tell me the truth now or your name will be on my list right after your father's.”

“Yes.” She slapped his hand away. “It is her.” She stood, her finger pressed into his forehead. “The little bitch isn't even supposed to be here. So, I finished what we started.”

“What we started?” Rock repeated, grabbing the tray and throwing it off the balcony. “It's what you and your sick-ass father started. You knew she was alive and you didn't tell me?” He started to walk off the balcony and into the bedroom. “That's low, even for you, Eve.”

“Who is this chick?” Junior asked.

“Your little sister,” Rock said as he walked away. “Go downstairs and get a car ready. I'm going to get dressed and then we can go.”

W
illow slowly lifted her heavy eyelids as the strong smell of antibacterial cleaner filled her nose. Her mouth was dry and she smacked her lips a few times to wet them. She was lying down, in a bed it seemed, and the room was bright. Light from the window reflecting off the eggshell-white walls made her want to close her eyes again.

She felt like she had slept for years, but her body was still tired. She heard the beeping of a machine and slowly turned her head toward the source of the noise. The muscles in her neck were stiff and sore. She saw Kail sitting in a chair by the window; she was sleeping, it appeared.

Goosebumps filled the skin of her arm as the cool air circulated in the room, hitting her from every direction. Squirming around from the uncomfortable feeling of the rigid bed, she tried to yelp out to get Kail's attention, but nothing would come out. The texture of the roof of her mouth felt chalk-like and speaking was futile.

“You awake? How do you feel?” Kail asked her as she woke up in the chair.

Before Willow could attempt to answer, she felt something surge from her gut and into her throat. The last thing she ate, peaches and oatmeal, unfortunately, came spewing out, covering the sheets beneath her. Her body was reacting to the anesthetic from the surgery and vomiting was one of the side effects.

“Give. . .me. . .some. . .water,” Willow managed to say after tossing the vomit-filled sheets onto the floor beside her. Her body was weak and with every move, she discovered a new source of pain.

“Should I get a nurse?” Kail asked her as she handed her a cup with room temperature water.

“No,” Willow told her as she gargled with the water, wetting every ounce of her mouth. “It's normal to do that.”

“You sure you okay?” Kail asked as she examined her up and down with her eyes.

“Yes, I'm fine,” she answered in a phlegmatic manner.

Willow was upset with Kail for shooting her. She didn't know how to react to her being there. She didn't know if Kail was responsible for her being in a hospital bed again for the second time within twenty-four hours. She was happy to have someone by her side, but Willow was in no mood to trust.

“So, who did this?” Kail asked in a serious tone.

“I don't know. I was going to ask you since you're trigger happy these days,” she answered, trying to replay the whole scenario over in her head while her blood boiled.

“Whoever it was, I know they were after Duke.” Kail sat on the edge of the bed. “I didn't do this and I didn't mean to shoot you earlier, Willow. You are my only family.”

“Duke,” Willow whispered softly as her priorities came back to her. “Where is he? Is he okay?”

“He's in ICU.” Kail adjusted her hair from in front of her shoulders. “Dude was shot three times and it's shocking that he's breathing at all.”

A single drop of grief welled up from the corner of Willow's eye and suddenly, the dam broke. Hot torrents of grief coursed down her face; her racking sobs were quiet but loud in their own right.
She sat there in the bed crying to herself with her hands covering her face.

“What the fuck,” Willow moaned between cries.

“It happens in this line of work,” Kail told her as she got up. “I'mma go get a nurse, but you sit in here and get yourself together, bitch.” Kail left the room.

Willow sat in a sheltered room where her thoughts roamed around with only thoughts of Duke dying. She froze in fear, and shivered in disbelief. The cold air sang around her and silence ate her surroundings. The sigh of her loneliness was with each breath she exhaled. The moment she felt a tickle upon her pale, ice-cold cheeks, she knew it was just the beginning of it all. Her eyes were screaming for justice with each translucent trickle of emotions.

Knocks on the door interrupted her grieving. The knocks grew louder and louder, waking her up from the pity party she was hosting. Two men walked inside; one was slightly taller than the one following close behind him. As the door closed Willow's heart started to beat fast.

The man appeared to be really tall from afar, but as he got closer, she could see that he was an average six-feet-something; he appeared taller because he had a menacing look about him, the kind of look that made one feel insignificant with just a twitch of his eyebrow.

His narrow temples were dusted with a light gray, but the rest of his head displayed a full, bushy, jet-black mane. His face was rigid and rough with experience—life experience, crime experience, street experience. He had that kind of face that suggested he might be a dirty businessman, a criminal on the inside. His face was underscored by his steely dark eyes; they were as cold as a tombstone in the middle of a dead January night.

There were no crow's feet around his eyes; she could tell he had never laughed at a joke in his life, the really serious type. His stocky frame was hidden beneath his high-end suit. The blazer was perfect for his arms and he looked nicer than most guys wearing the exact same suit. His tie was purple and his appearance was strong.

“You've grown up,” Rock admired his daughter's beauty while keeping his distance.

“Who are you?” Willow asked, her throat still dry.

“I'm your father, and this is your big brother.” Rock stepped a little closer. “I can't believe you're alive.”

“I don't know you,” Willow said, looking past them as Kail entered the room and closed the door.

“Who the fuck are y'all?” Kail asked as she pulled her gun out.