Us (18 page)

Chapter
26 – Elle

I couldn't remember a time I'd been so fired up to see Chris. I loved my girl and all, but I was used to seeing or talking to her every day. When I saw her car, the switch flipped and all I wanted to do was drag her ass into the bathroom stall so I could hug her and jump up and down like an idiot. When I burst into the store and found her checking out the dollar items up front, I did just that. It was like we were at Eight Oh Eight again and I was dragging her outside after my first "run in" with J on the dance floor.
She didn't ask any questions as I pulled her into the bathroom, and then into the handicapped stall.

I threw my arms around her, something we didn't do much. "Oh my God I missed you," I said while fighting back tears.

"Fuck, bitch, I missed you more." She was wiping her eyes as I crushed her against me. "I love you, but you're choking me."

"Sorry. So much has happened and I've wished every moment that I could call you and tell you. Or better, that you were there with me. No, fuck that. You don't need to be up in my drama, but damn if I didn't need your fucking support a time or three."

"Shit, what's been going on?"

I pulled away from her and sighed. "Not much that I can tell you about just yet."

"Really? Nothing? Not even some hot sex stories cuz I know you've been with J."

"Fuck. Let's shop. I actually need shit. I'll tell you what I can along the way."

"Let me clean my face up. You've made me a crier like your ass." I laughed at her. I was still a crier it seemed, but for very different reasons than before.

We wandered around the store filling up the cart. I encouraged her to put shit in it
because J gave me a wad of cash to get whatever I needed, and what I needed was my friend to buy herself some beauty products or a pair of shoes. I filled her in on José and Monterrey. I told her my schooling was cut short, or never began, but that the how and why of it would have to wait. For now, I was back in Missouri and J was handling business with the MC.

"Shit's still hot around the MC, ain't it? That's why some dude was knocking on my door at seven this morning?"

"Fuckin A. That's P, the prospect, and yes, that is why he was knocking on your door incognito style. But he was told not to knock until nine."

"Seven, nine, it's all single digits. You know the day doesn't start until double digits."

"Damn, girl, I know, but this was the only way we could see each other. J's at the Starbucks and the prospect is outside waiting in the van."

Chris stopped pushing the cart. "You mean he's with you?"

"He won't let me out of his sight 'til shit's handled."

"Damn," she whispered. "That bad?" I nodded. "And you still came to see me?"

"Of course. Woman, I missed you. I missed you every fucking day. So much shit kept happening and all I could think was that I needed someone without a dick to talk about it with. Being here with you, even if I can't talk about everything, is better than not seeing you at all. When I say I love you, I fucking mean it." I smiled at her and added, "Bitch."

We were standing in the shampoo isle, and I think she was about to cry again.

"Let's keep moving before you need to wash your face again. I need fucking underwear that a hoe hasn't worn before."

Chris looked at me like I was crazy, though it was J who was crazy if he thought I was going to wear skanky panties.

"Tell me about your life. I know you got something going on with a guy. You ready to spill?"

Chris smiled like a teenage girl crushing on Justin
Bieber. I knew there was some guy at her house when I called from my apartment, and I also knew he wasn't a one-night-stand. I had my suspicions about who she was seeing, but I kept them to myself. It was her call if she was ready to talk about it or not.

"Yes, there is a guy, and he is unlike any man I've met. We kicked it for weeks before he put any moves on me. And it was a month before we fucked. Damn, and I don't think it was even fucking. That boy made sweet love to me!" She was giddy.

"Fuck, girl. That's so rockin'! Wait, you didn't tell him where you were going, did you?"

"Just that I was having a girls' night and I'd see him tomorrow."

Eh... I wanted her to say that she didn't tell him anything, but if things were as she said they were I guess I understood. I told J more shit than I'd told any man. I'd shared more than just my heart with him. I shared my past, my stories, my fuck-ups, my sad times, my happy ones, and everything in between. Shit, I think the man knew my damn menstrual cycle, which reminded me I needed tampons.

"Keep talking and roll the cart to the next isle. Aunt Flo needs her supplies."

"Gotchya."

We strolled through the rest of the store, filling the cart to capacity. She continued to gush about her mystery man, but I didn't push for any more than what she was willing to tell me. Why his identity was a secret was something I didn't understand. I respected her choice though. If she wasn't ready for whatever reason to tell me, I wasn't going to force her.

We were in the back of the store looking at patio furniture by the stock room, patio furniture neither of us needed, when the world went black.

Fucking A.

Not again.

Chapter
27 – Chris

Mother fucker.

It's all I could think as I sat on a twin bed with Elle's head in my lap. I'd been through some shit in my life. My mom had six kids, all with black men—except my sperm donor. I was the only white one, something that fucked with me for most of my childhood in St. Louis. We lived in the hood, and my sisters and brothers fit in. I didn't.

Throw in my mom's string of shitty boyfriends and the fact that I was alive was a miracle. Not all my siblings had been so lucky. Now here I was, locked in a mother fucking back room with no windows. Elle said her shit was deep, but I didn't know her ass was in this deep. I understood what she meant by wanting me by her side, but at the same time
not wanting me there due to the danger she was in. I couldn't help thinking that there was no one else I'd rather be locked in a room with.

She'd been my guardian angel from the first night we met. How could two people meet under such fucked up circumstances and not be bonded? I owed her my life—literally. She
saved me from God knows what those dudes were going to do to me. They may not have killed me, but they'd of killed a piece of me. The piece that had managed to fight off two grown men when she was barely a teenager. The small piece that still believed there was good left in the world. Up until I met Elle, I thought there was good out there somewhere, but I didn't know where it was. It wasn't in St. Louis. I knew that for sure. I'd gotten out and moved to a smaller city where there was a MAC counter and a chance to be unknown. Had she not saved me, I'd probably be as fucked up as my mother.

I'd missed my girl more than I imagined. When she pulled us in
to the bathroom stall, I thanked whatever God there was because I felt the tears coming as soon as I saw her. I needed her just as much as she needed me. I thought I did, at least. I had wanted to tell her about Dylan so many times as we wandered around Target, but didn't. Not after the Shemar Moore incident. I wasn't sure how she'd feel about it. Hopefully fine since she had J, but no need to put a damper on our reunion. I was happy just strolling the store with her. I was about to ask her about the ring on her finger. Yeah, I noticed it. I was giving her time to tell me before I busted her out, and her time was just about up.

Fuck.

I was so happy.

A
nd then this shit happened.

Two mother
fuckers bum rushed us in the fucking patio furniture section, knocking Elle over the head and slapping their hand over my mouth as they drug us out the back door. I tried to fight, but by the time I realized what was happening we were in a van driving away. There was another guy waiting for us when we were shoved into the vehicle. One guy drove while the other two tied us up. Again, I tried to fight, but when a gun is pushed up against your forehead you give up the fight pretty quick. The feel of cold metal on my forehead is one I'd be just dandy to never feel again.

Mother
fuckers.

I didn't even scream. I just tried to take notice of everything possible. We drove for at least
three hours, maybe more. From what I could see out of the window, we were headed to St. Louis of all places. One more reason to never go there again, well, if we got out of this room.

I got up, and gently laid Elle's head on the pillow.
The room was small with only the twin bed, a small wooden night stand, and a dresser full of sheets. Nothing I could use to make a weapon, unless I was going to try and get one of the legs off the night stand. I thought about it for a second, seriously contemplating if it was possible. I took everything off and turned it upside down, inspected every inch, but it seemed an unlikely plan. The table was solid as fuck. This wasn't Goodwill furniture like I was used to.

I suppose I could strangle someone with a sheet. Who the fuck was I kidding? I'd have to take his ass down to even get the sheet around his neck, and although I'd been in my fair share of street fights growing up, I'd never had a gun pointed at my forehead.

Fuck.

That wasn't exactly true.

I'd seen guns, they just weren't pointed directly at me. Maybe the person sitting next to me...

So it was a no go on weapons.

Mother fucker! I wanted to scream, though I wasn't sure if it would bring more harm than good.

I looked over at my guardian angel still passed out on the bed.

"Think, Chris. Think. What are your options?" I ran through the scene at Target out loud, the drive here, being untied and thrown in this room, and finally to the here and now hoping it would give me some clarity on what to do.

It didn't.

I was locked in a backroom at a fancy ass house with chandeliers and shit, and I had no mother fucking options.

This was some bull
shit.

The longer I paced, the angrier I became. I wasn't some helpless damsel in distress. I'd lived
through enough shit for two lifetimes. Fuck, maybe three. There was no way I was going down in a back room of a mansion at the hands of three motherfuckers in suits flashing guns in my face.

No way.

I'd fight. I'd use my fists. I'd go down swinging. I'd fight until I took my last breath.

I was amped the fuck up when I heard Elle start to wake up.

Chapter
28 – Elle

I woke up in a twin sized bed with blue crochet grandma blankets on it, Chris sitting next to me looking angry as all hell.

"What the
?" My head started pounding as soon as I sat up.

"Steady, chica. Take a minute."

I lay back down and looked at a freshly painted ceiling. Where was I again? I remembered Target
and Chris. We were hugging and gushing like school girls about how much we missed one another.

Patio furniture.

I remember patio furniture and Chris eyeing my ring. I knew I was going to have to tell her about it. I wanted to. I wasn't holding out, but there was so much to tell, so much
not
to tell, and I temporarily forgot about the ring. I was happy just being there with her. I could've cried remembering how much I missed her and how great it was to be with her again if it wasn't for my head.

Fuck.

I sat back up, moving slower this time. My head was still throbbing, but it was bearable. There were no windows in the room, as if it was specifically made as an interior room, explicitly made to hold someone captive. I eyed the room, looking around at my options. There was a night stand turned upside down and a dresser. Besides the bed and those two items, the room was empty. Why was the night stand upside down? I got off the bed slowly and went to inspect it.

"There's nothing. I've already looked everywhere. We could attempt to rip the legs off, but the thing's solid as fuck. There're sheets in the dresser, but I could only strangle someone if
it was one person and you were able to hold them down, which in your condition seems unlikely."

"Fuck. You already looked at everything?" I questioned her.

"You know if there was a shank to be made, I'd have made it already. There's nothing but us." Her voice was tight, like she was struggling to keep it together. I held my head in my hand willing it to stop pounding.

Shit. I squeezed my eyes shut. We were fucked. Totally fucked.

"I'm not dying in some back room, girl. I've been through too much, survived too much shit to die in a mother fucking back room of some suit's fancy ass mansion," Chris informed me, standing up and pacing the room.

"Tell me what happened. I remember looking at patio furniture and that's it. What happened in the fucking patio furniture section?"

"They jacked our asses, that's what happened. You got knocked over the head, and I was drug outta there. They shoved us in a van and tied us up. I think we're close to St. Louis. We drove for hours. Girl, what the fuck is going on? You gotta give me something. I told you, I'm not fucking dying here."

Shit, she was right. I owed her some information. I'd already gotten her abducted, all because I missed her and wanted to see he
r. I was selfish and knew this was my fault. I put my best friend at risk. The only person besides J who knew the REAL Elle was locked in a room with nothing to fight with. How could I have done this to her? What kind of person was I? Was this the life I'd chosen? Shit. I was fucking hyperventilating.

"Easy, girl." Chris ran to my side, sitting down next to me on the bed. "
Deep breaths." I followed her instructions and breathed in and out slowly and deeply, making every attempt to calm myself. This was no time for a panic attack. I wasn't reliving Shemar Moore's bathroom floor again. I wouldn't. I refused to be that girl.

So I told her everything.

J, MM, Burns, all the shit that went down in Mexico, Fernie and Isabel, coming home, and wanting to see her. She already knew some of it from before I left, but the Mexico shit had her speechless. It was a lot to drop on a person all at once, and if we had time I would've told her piece by piece. Time wasn't on our side, though.

"How long have we been here? How long have I been out?"

Chris folded her hands in her lap and stared at them like they held some magic answers. "We were in the van for three or four hours. We've been in this room at least three. I—I didn't know if you'd wake up."

I took her hands in mine, and the fact that we weren't touchy feely girls startled her. She looked up at me, the anger in her eyes turning to remorse.

"Hey, I did this. I brought you into my fucked up world, just like I did Fernie. You wouldn't be here if I hadn't set this up." I paused, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. "I'm sorry," I said barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." I looked at Chris, confusion coating my face. How could she not hate me? How could she not hate the fact that I'd not only gotten myself into this situation, but I'd brought her down with  me?
We'd both been through so much in our short lives, and she was right, I wasn't going to die in this room. That didn't make me feel any less guilty.

"I love him. I fucking love a man and promised to stand by his side. I never intended for you to be in this shit with me. I knew what I was risking, but I was selfish and wanted to see you. Why? What's wrong with me?" The tears flowed freely of their own accord, as if I was no longer in control. My emotions
took over and I was at their mercy.

"Elle, there's nothing wrong with you. And yes, you chose one hell of a guy to fall in love with, but there's nothing wrong with that either. I get it. Your story—God, it's one helluva story, but I get why you did it. If someone loved me the way J loved you, I'd walk into fire for him. You saved my life once. I owe you. If we die, we die together. I never said thank you for saving my life, for killing so those guys wouldn't rape me. I'll walk into fire with you. Fuck, I'll lead the way, but stop feeling guilty. I missed you too. I could've said no. I may not have known your whole story, but I knew you were in deep shit. I didn't care. I wanted to see you too. You're all I have."

"You have a man." She did. I remember her talking about him like she'd found her own version of J.

"What's up with the ring?"

"Are you trying to dodge my question or get my mind off this fucked up shit?"

She laughed. We knew each other too well. "Both."

I took a deep breath, preparing myself to explain the ring. It seemed so weird. Here we were, in the most unlikely of circumstances, and I was about to tell her about a fucking ring?

Fuck it.

I took her distraction, wiped my eyes, and spilled my guts.

"It belonged to J's grandmother. His Gramps mad
e it and gave it to her when he proposed. J was going to give it to me the night at the drug house."

"Oops, I shot you instead," Chris joked.

I laughed through a few stray tears. "Yeah, pretty much."

"I'm sorry, girl. That was harsh. I'm straight with ole boy. I know he loves you and is looking for us. Keep going."

"Fuck. I never even thought of that. He has to have realized we're gone. He must be going crazy."

My heart sped up in my chest like I was running a marathon, not sitting on a bed
barely moving. J must be out of his mind. I promised not to take long. We weren't even in Target an hour. If the roles were reversed, I'd have pulled all my hair out by now. God, I bet J's shoulder was black and blue, Gramps was probably black and blue by now.

"Pull it together. There's nothing we can do this second. So he had the ring that night. He obviously gave it to you at some point. Tell me about it. Fuck, tell me anything."

She was right. J was looking for me, and there was nothing to do but wait, so I told her how he presented me the ring.