Sins of a Siren (29 page)

“Wassup, Jason?” Trenda asked as she walked behind the reservation desk and logged in. “Is it busy tonight?”

Jason adjusted his utility belt, straightened his cap and glanced into her eyes. “Hey, Mya! It's been kinda quiet tonight. I bet it's gonna be crazy next Sunday though.”

Trenda sat down behind the computer. “Why you say that?”

“Next Sunday is Easter. We usually get a big crowd of out-oftowners on that weekend.” He struggled with trying not to stare at her. “What are you gonna do for Easter? Are you going to spend time with family or go to church?”

She stared off into space for a moment.
Damn! Easter already? I bet Momma and the rest of those stuck-up church wives are still gettin' stuff ready for the church's Easter dinner. I sure am glad I ain't stuck in the middle of all those nosey women. I used to hate havin' Momma volunteer me every fuckin' Easter to help cook. And Momma tryin' to make me feel good tellin' me how much everybody loved my sweet potato pies. And havin' to deal with them hatin' old bitties cuttin' they eyes at me all damn day. So many times I was tempted to tell them bitches how many of their husbands had tried to get in my drawers…

Just like clockwork, as soon as the memories of her home life became too clear, too strong, she shut them off. She unbuttoned the three brass buttons on her navy-blue blazer and smoothed down her white shirt. “I dunno…I might just stay home and chill until I have to be back here.”

The keys on his belt jingled as he leaned back against the desk. “Yeah, it sucks that we have to work the holidays. But the time-and-a-half pay helps take some of the sting out of it.”

Lollie's copy of
Essence
magazine lay next to the keyboard. She gazed at the African-American actress on the cover standing knee-deep in some pretty blue water in a tropical paradise.
That's where I need to be…right there with nobody fuckin' wit' me. No hustlin', nobody
huntin' me, no worries, nobody to please. Just me doin' me for once. “
Nah, not all money is good money; sometimes I'd rather just have some ‘me' time.”

“I still can't believe how we met,” Lollie said while sitting across the table from Walter in Francis Ford Coppola's Café Zoetrope restaurant in San Francisco. They had become inseparable since Trenda, once again, had orchestrated another successful hookup. “It feels like I'm in a movie or something.”

Me neither; I can't believe I bounced out of one hot pussy into another so smoothly
! Walter thought as he admired Lollie's beauty. But it was more than just her hot sex and beauty; the chemistry between he and Lollie was magnificent. He returned her smile as his fingers walked across the table, past his half-eaten plate of
Linguine alla Vongole,
past her glass of 2006 vintage,
Sangiovese, Borgo di Colloredo, Molise
wine and took her hand in his. “I know…it's crazy as I-don't-know-what. That friend of yours deserves a serious ‘thank you.' This is the best blind date on record.”

She wiped back the lock of her hair that had covered half her face. “Yeah, Mya is a trip. She is one of the coolest females I know—with her freaky ass. I'm thinkin' about letting her move in with me until she can get her own place.”

A huge grin filled his face. “Hmmmmm! Now
that
sounds like a great idea! Two sexy birds in one tree!”

“Don't get any ideas, Mr. Secrease. Your ‘two-for-one' privileges have been suspended.” She took a sip of her wine. “Until further notice, or
maybe
until your next birthday, this is a one-on-one hook-up. If you can't hang with that, let me know so I can tear up our contract.”

They shared a chuckle as the waiter brought over a box for their leftover food and the check. “I was thinking of offering her an internship as a mortician. I'm not sure if she would be interested, but it would be good for her. I pay my interns well.”

“Are you serious? I bet she would love that!” Lollie gave him a mock evil look. “I hope you don't try and fuck your interns.”

Shaking his head, he laughed. “I'm sure I'll be too busy chasing you to worry about fucking the help.”

She gave him a grin. “Good answer.”

He took his wallet out of the inside pocket of his expensive black suit jacket. “Have you noticed anything odd about Mya?”

Lollie chewed her bottom lip while pondering his question. “She can be kinda distant at times…like she has a lot on her mind.”

“Yeah, that's what it is…distant. I noticed that myself. When it comes to sex, she's a whole different animal, but other than that, it's like she is always looking for something. Like something is missing in her world. Why do you think she's like that?”

Lollie began boxing up her food. “When I ask her what's on her mind, she always just says, ‘nothin'' and lets it go. It don't matter, though; she still my girl.”

He finished the last of his wine. “I agree; she is good people. But I still think there is a lot more to our green-eyed siren than she lets on.”

Under the table, before slipping her feet back into the purple pumps, which matched her tight purple dress, she rubbed her foot along his calf. “We can pick this topic up later; I get
real
horny after a good meal like this, baby. I hope you have a lot of dessert for me.”

This girl is insatiable! Thank you, Mya!
Grinning, he adjusted his purple tie, which matched her outfit. “Keep that talk up and you
won't make it back across the bridge tonight. I'll have your sexy ass locked up in a hotel over here.”

As he stood holding her leather jacket, prepared to help her put it on, she stood and gave him a good look at the outline of her hard nipples, which stood at attention. She flashed him a lust-filled smirk. “I dare you.”

T
en minutes after watching Trenda enter the Waters Edge Hotel, King Gee tapped his soldier on the shoulder. “Time for you to go to work.”

Nuts took two last puffs off his blunt and tossed it to the ground. “A'ight, I'll holla at you when I'm done.”

As King Gee walked over to his Saab with the new convertible top, Nuts opened the red backpack sitting in the driver's seat. Inside, he removed two six-inch-long balloons, smiled and bounced them in his hand.
As soon as the gas in her gas tank eats through this balloon rubber, the Drano inside these balloons is gonna mix with the gas and blow her shit up!

Along with the balloons in the backpack, there was a black ski mask, tire iron and a bottle of motor oil. He drove over and backed in next to Trenda's car. He double-checked the Chevy pickup truck on the other side of Trenda's car and made sure it was unoccupied.

The spotlight twenty feet from his stolen vehicle didn't bother him at all. Leaving the Explorer running, Nuts, the pyromaniac, pulled on the ski mask, grabbed the tire backpack and walked over to the Honda. Using the tire iron, he popped open the fuel door, unscrewed the cap and opened the bottle of motor oil.
This will make sure these balloons slide all the way down the fill tube and into the gas.

The stuffed balloons were just barely slim enough to fit down through the fuel tank opening. But since Nuts had done this
numerous times, he was proficient at knowing just how much catalyst to use. He inspected the balloons and made sure they were tied tightly. Before putting them into the tank, he got the rush he was seeking; the danger of the rubber dissolving too quickly and him being blown the hell up. The thrill of getting away just in time was so exciting to him it made his dick hard.

“Here we go!” he said as he quickly slid both balloons down the oil-soaked filler tube, ran and jumped in the Explorer. Instead of speeding off right away, his sickness made him tempt fate and stall for a few unnecessary seconds before smashing down the accelerator and jetting out the parking lot.

With each passing second, Piper became more agitated. It took a Herculean effort for her to enter the bookstore without running over and slitting Darius's throat. She watched him while pretending to be browsing the books.

Over by the cookbook section, near the elevator that conveniently took patrons to the underground parking garage, she saw a sign on the elevator door:

Elevator temporarily out of service. Please use the stairway east of the store entrance to access the parking garage. Thank you for your patience.

Her eyes went from the sign to Darius, thirty feet away.
Looks like he is finally ready to leave.
She hitched her purse up on her shoulder.
I'll wait for him outside.

Outside the glass doors, she watched him walk over to the elevator and read the sign. A maniacal smile crossed her lips. “Yes! Bring your ass here!” She hurried her husky self over to the stairway, went inside and stood behind the door, in the blind spot of an unsuspecting victim. Since the bookstore was a couple of
hours away from closing, there weren't many people leaving. She gripped the wooden handle of her carving knife and used the end to shatter the lone light bulb, mounted on the wall behind the door. Other than the dim light emanating from the flight of stairs below her, the stairway was as silent and as dark as a tomb. Perfect.

Damn, there are some fine ass hoes out here!
Darius thought as he nodded at the security guard on his way out the bookstore. Five seagulls fought and squawked loudly over a scrap of food at the foot of a trashcan a few yards away from Darius. He stopped, stretched and sucked in a lungful of the Bay air.
One more day and this shit will be over! I am gonna fly back to Baltimore knowing Trenda is takin' a dirt-nap.

Tossing his empty cup of coffee in the trash, he headed for the stairs to the parking garage. He walked over, pushed the door open and entered the dark stairway. “Damn, it's dark as he—”

A demonic voice whispered behind him. “She's mine…” It got louder. “She is
mine
!”

Before he could react, he felt several thumps on the middle of his back. “What the fuck?”

“Trenda is mines, you motherfucker! Trenda is
mine
!” she yelled as she continued slamming the blade into his back with the fury of a devil.

Darius felt a sharp pain in his left underarm as the point of the blade found a piece of flesh unprotected by his bulletproof vest. “What the fuck…is wrong…with you?” he yelled as he scrambled for the pistol behind his back. With only six square feet of space to work with, and the blade of the knife getting closer and closer
to his neck and other exposed body parts, he knew he only had seconds to act.

If he moved too much, he would lose the protection of the vest. Obviously, she didn't know he was wearing it. She continued trying to open his back with the knife while yelling repeatedly that Trenda was hers. “I saw her sucking your ugly dick, you sonof-a-bitch!”

Finally, his hand found the rubberband-cover grip of the pistol. He pulled it, fell to the ground, rolled over on his back and scooted a few feet away from her. Even in that dim light he could see the saliva leaking from the corners of her mouth and the insanity in her eyes. He cocked the pistol. “Back off, fat bitch!”