Her Sweetest Revenge 3 Page 15

  Now that she broke it down that way, it made sense to me. How they knew each other had nothing to do with me, so I decided to dismiss it.

  I turned to Rochelle. “Maybe Monica is right.”

  “Girl, I guess,” Rochelle replied. “Who gives a fuck anyway?”

  “Exactly.” I laughed.

  “Turn UP!” I yelled. I was ready to continue my fun.

  The night turned out to be great. We did everything we came out to do. It was times like these that I missed the most. I even thought for a brief moment about Charlene. In my own way I missed her. Before her greed for money and power changed our friendship, we had fun together, and tonight just brought those thoughts back. Now I questioned if I had regrets about killing her. That question didn’t linger long, though, because the reality was it was me or her, and me dying was not an option.

  Chapter 36

  “I am in for the rest of the night. I just picked up everything I needed from the store.”

  I was on the phone with Rochelle. It felt good to have her call my cell so we could just chat about our day or whatever we had going on. I missed that so much.

  “You lucky. I am heading straight home as soon as I get out of here. Wynita is already at my house with Tiny. Girl, she cooked and everything.”

  “That’s good. I know Hood gone enjoy his meal. It’s been a minute since I made him dinner. Lately all we’ve been doing is going out to some restaurant or having the chef come by. But not tonight. My baby gone taste my home cooking.” I beamed into the phone.

  To be honest, I was also looking forward to cooking my own food. I could not wait to start.

  “What all are you making, Hazel?” Rochelle joked, calling me the name of the maid that used to come on television way before our time.

  “T-bone steaks, loaded baked potatoes, and broccoli. For dessert, I’m making a peach cobbler, oh, and French vanilla Blue Bell ice cream.” My own stomach growled after naming off the menu.

  “Damn, Mya, I think I’m comin’ over there when I get off. That whole menu sounds like it’s going to be bomb.”

  “I know. I can’t wait myself. Anyway, I got to get all this stuff put away so that I can get dinner started. I’ll call you later on.”

  “A’ight bet.”

  I slid a twelve-pack of Heineken beer that I picked up for Hood into the fridge. I opened the freezer side and put the Blue Bell ice cream inside. I could not wait to get a taste. It was my favorite vanilla ice cream from a container. Just as I closed the freezer door, my cell started ringing again. Had it been anyone other than someone close to me, I would have ignored it, but it was Monica. I always answered for family.

  “What’s up, chic?” I greeted.

  The distress sound of Monica’s voice was clear. I could tell she was crying and my heart dropped. “Mya, Rich flipped out on me today.”

  “What?” I screamed. “What the fuck happened?”

  “I came home from school and he started in on me about quitting again. We had been talking about it lately but I had not made up my mind. Ever since that conversation you and I had, I started going to class more often. Well, today he wanted an answer about when I was going to stop completely. Finally, I just told him that I wasn’t going to quit and that made him furious. I had never seen him that way. The next thing I knew he slapped me, dragged me, and threw me up against the wall in the den. I fought him back. I was kicking and screaming. When I wouldn’t stop screaming, he dragged me upstairs, threw me in one of the guest rooms, and locked me inside. I didn’t know what to do.”

  Monica continued to cry, but I could tell she was trying to conceal it. It was almost like she was having a whispered cry. I sat on the phone in complete awe. I could not believe that I was hearing what she was saying. But in actuality, I was not surprised. I knew that bastard was a woman beater and I had tried to warn my naïve sister. Being angry was an understatement.

  “Where’s Rich at now?” I knew he was around somewhere; her whispers were a dead giveaway.

  “He downstairs in the kitchen fixing me lunch. He came up about twenty minutes ago apologizing and to let me out of the room. I told him I was hungry and so he went downstairs to fix me something. As soon as he was out of sight, I grabbed my phone to call you.”

  All of a sudden I thought about my niece. If he had touched her in front of Imani, he was dead for sure. “Where is Imani?” I screamed so hard my phone vibrated.

  “She is with Ma. She stayed the night over there.” Monica’s voice was trembling. That punk-ass nigga had some nerve doing this to her.

  “I’m on my way.”

  I hung up before she could say anything else. I didn’t need words. I almost picked up the phone to dial Hood but I decided against it. He was dealing with a lot on his end. I would go get my sister on my own because I was not scared of Rich. I would blow his punk ass away in one minute flat. I headed to Hood’s man cave where he kept all of his heat locked up. I reached for the piece that would make my point if need be, a sawed-off shotgun. I rubbed my fingers over the metal, admiring its stability and security. Grabbing the keys to the Range Rover, I headed out of the door. I guess Hood’s steak dinner would be put on hold.

  I raced top speed to Monica’s crib. I had all types of thoughts running through my mind. Why had I given in so easily to Monica moving in with Rich? It was my fault. I should have just forbade it and made her hate me. But no, I wanted to give her a chance to be an adult, and now look what was happening. Pulling into their long driveway, I threw my Range into park, turned off the ignition, grabbed my gun, and walked top speed up to the door.

  Not caring if the whole neighborhood heard me, I banged on the door like I was Five-O. I was sure someone would call the cops on me. I had my shotgun in full view. The door swung open and Monica was standing behind it instead of Rich.

  Rage flooded me. The left side of her face was swollen along with her top lip. It was even worse than I had imagined or she had described. I was ready to pop a cap in Rich for sure.

  “Tell him to get his punk ass out here right now!”

  The entire time Monica had her eyes on my left hand where the shotgun was. She knew what I was capable of.

  “He’s not here. I think he was eavesdropping when I was talking on the phone with you.” She didn’t take her eyes off of the gun.

  The fact that he was gone disappointed me, but it probably was best for him. “Get your shit!” I didn’t mean to scream at her, but I was heated as fuck. I stepped inside the house as if I owned it. My vision was clouded by the tears forming in my eyes. I blinked several times trying to clear them. Now was not the time. I need to get Monica out of here for good.

  “Okay.”

  Monica finally took her eyes off the gun, turned and headed down the huge hallway at top speed until she reached the stairs. I followed her with my gun in tow, ready for anything. At the edge of the staircase there were two Prada bags. I reached down and grabbed them both.

  “Hey,” I said to get her attention. Monica turned on the steps and faced me. “I’m going to take these out to your Charger.”

  “Cool.” Monica turned back around and started racing back up the stairs.

  Before going to Monica’s car, I walked over to my truck and laid the shotgun on the front seat, because tugging the gun and the bags were too heavy. Afterward, I walked over the car and started loading the bags inside. Just as I was about to close the trunk, I heard Monica scream. I raced back inside the house and up the stairs.

  “Leave me alone,” Monica screamed.

  “Monica,” I screamed out her name.

  I was halfway up the stairs when I remembered that my gun was outside in my car. I ran back down the stairs to retrieve it. Monica was no longer screaming and the silence bothered me, so I ran faster.

  By the time I made it upstairs, Rich was standing in their bedroom in front of Monica holding her back. She was trying to break free but his grip was tight. He only glanced in my direction because he was more focused on
containing Monica.

  “She ain’t leaving, so why don’t you just go home. We were just having a little family disagreement.”

  “Bitch-ass boy, you betta get your hands off my sister and I mean now!” I yelled as I put the shotgun to the back of his head. He froze. “I told you about hitting on my sister.”

  “Mya, wait.” Monica glued her eyes to the gun again. “Mya, please listen to me . . . don’t do this. He ain’t worth it,” she begged.

  With my finger on the trigger, my thoughts were telling me to ignore her and shoot him. I could feel Rich shaking. He was scared and that gave me pleasure.

  “Look, I love her. I just lost my head for a minute. But I can promise you, on my life, it will not ever happen again.”

  He was such a punk. I could see why he liked to push women around.

  “I know it won’t, because you better stay away from her. Keep your distance, or the next time this shotgun will go BOOM!” I yelled and pushed the shotgun into the back of his skull, making him jump forward with fright. I almost laughed at how scared he was. The only reason I didn’t shoot him was because of Monica. I knew that deep down she cared for him.

  “Get the rest of you and Imani’s stuff and let’s go!”

  Monica grabbed two huge Burberry suitcases on wheels. She had three Burberry carry-on bags to go with that. She put one of the bags on top of a suitcase and I grabbed the other two and leveled them in both my hands.

  Monica led the way as we exited her room, but she stopped abruptly and reached into her front right pocket. She pulled out keys to the truck that Rich had given her and to the house. She turned to face him and tossed them at him. He stepped back to keep the keys from hitting him.

  We made it to the top of the stairs before Rich finally found the courage to come out of the room.

  “Come on, Monica, baby,” he begged, sounding like a wounded puppy. “You know I love you. You, me, and Imani are a family.”

  I wanted to throw raw stinking onions at him. Monica paused at the edge of the staircase and slowly turned and looked up at Rich. Without saying one word, she turned back around, placed her hands on her suitcase handles, and walked away.

  I was proud of her. I turned to Rich with my face screwed up like I smelled something foul. I had a few words for him. “Stay the fuck away from my sister.” I hoped he listened.

  Chapter 37

  I put Monica up at the Hilton Hotel downtown. I had to keep her out of sight from Hood. Had he gotten a glimpse of her swollen face, it would have been over for Rich, and as much as I wanted to see his ass on a platter, I knew Monica would not want that and might even resent us for it. Her face didn’t take long to heal because I had taken her to the doctor and gotten her the proper medicine.

  To keep Ma from seeing her and bringing Imani home, we told her that Monica had the stomach flu. Of course, she wanted to rush right over and take care of Monica, but we convinced her that it would be better if she didn’t come around because we didn’t want her to get sick and risk Imani catching it. Thankfully, it worked. But now that the swelling had gone down, Monica ached to see Imani. So I told Ma bring Imani and her things to my house.

  Ma arrived right around the time that I told her we would be back from the store. Imani attacked Monica when she made it inside the house. Monica soaked up all the kisses she received from her only daughter.

  “Hey,” Ma spoke as she came into the kitchen and set down some Kroger bags. She had stopped by the store and picked up a few items that I needed for this special strawberry smoothie that Monica was always bugging me about making.

  “Hey,” Monica and I said in unison.

  Ma had been wearing a smile from the time I opened the door and let her and Imani inside the house. Now that smile had faded. Her cheeks flushed red and her mouth was now tight around the edges. Imani climbed down from Monica’s lap and started playing with the colorful rhinestone bracelet she had on her tiny arm.

  With one stride, Ma moved across the kitchen to the table where Monica sat looking like a child who was in grave trouble. I could see the movement in Monica’s esophagus as she swallowed what I assumed to be a throat full of nervousness.

  “So he hit you again, huh? And don’t lie to me.” Ma was stern. The look on her face measured both anger and disappointment.

  Instead of answering, Monica nodded yes.

  Ma turned and looked at me for a brief second, then back at Monica. “You knew about this. Why you didn’t say something?”

  “I begged her to wait a couple of days,” Monica threw in.

  “Why wait? You may as well tell me. There ain’t much you can hide from me and I won’t find out.”

  “I just needed some time to myself to think.”

  “Well, I know you ain’t going back. Heck no, you can forget about that. So he can just kiss your ass.”

  “She’s going be staying here with me for a while,” I confirmed.

  “I don’t know why you thought it was okay to stay with that bum for so long. But you betta stay away from him because I’m very close to telling your dad. He should not have to be in the dark about this. The only reason he doesn’t know is because I don’t want him to risk his parole. However, this is the last straw. Anything else goes down with Rich and it’s a wrap. Bastard thinks he can put his hands on you.” Ma was emotional. But I knew exactly how she felt.

  “You don’t have to worry, Ma. It’s over. I promise you that.” Monica was a kid again when she spoke. Reality had set in.

  “Well, Ma, have you ate? ’Cause I’m about to cook these T-bones if you want to sit and eat with us.”

  It was time to change the conversation. Since we were all together, we might as well eat and have a few laughs before we were all separated again by the other parts of our lives that always seemed to be pulling us apart.

  “No, I’ve been running around all day. I stopped at Wendy’s and ordered some nuggets and fries for Imani around lunchtime. So hook me up.”

  “All right, I’m going to grill these steaks and sauté some veggies,” I said as I heated up the griddle and prepared to throw the already marinated steaks on.

  Then all of sudden Ma started smiling.

  “Okay, now spill it, what you smiling for?” Monica asked. I turned to see her all white teeth. Something was brewing.

  “I guess it’s okay if I say something now. I wanted to wait until everything was settled but I swear I can’t hold it any longer.”

  “Please, Ma, just tell us.” She knew I was impatient. I wished she would just get to the point and skip all the verbiage.

  “When I leave here today, your dad and I are going to look at rings.”

  She stopped talking but her grin was even bigger now. Monica looked at me and I understood why we were lost.

  “Okay, you looking at rings and . . . ?” Monica said.

  “Dang! Do I have to spell it out to you two? We are going to look at rings because we have decided to renew our wedding vows. The other night, your dad took me out to dinner, then the waiter brought me out an apple crisp cinnamon pie with French vanilla ice cream with a ring on top and your dad asked me to marry him again.”

  “He did what?” Monica jumped up with excitement.

  “Yep, he sure did.”

  Ma’s grin never swayed. I was sure her jaws hurt. But I understood how she felt because tears were running down my flushed cheeks. After all they had been through, I knew their relationship was going to be all right. Monica and I wrapped Ma in a big hug.

  Finally, we sat down to eat. While eating our steaks, we started to plan the vow renewal. Monica and I had all these fabulous ideas of how we wanted it. But Ma made it clear that she wanted to keep things simple. Their first wedding had been huge. This time around, Ma wanted it to be about her and her man. She wanted him to enjoy her and her him. No questions asked. While we were totally disappointed, we wanted to respect her wishes.

  After dinner Ma hugged us both good-bye, told us she loved us, and headed out. We ha
d enjoyed ourselves. But Imani was becoming restless. She had eaten her dinner, gotten full, and now she was ready to rumble.

  “SpongeBob,” she started to chant. “Watch SpongeBob,” she continued.

  We knew exactly what that meant. She was ready to watch one of her favorite shows. I got up and washed her hands and face.

  “All right, let’s go in the den and turn on SpongeBob.”

  “Okay.” She smiled and looked at Monica. “Be back, Mommy.”

  “Go ahead.” Monica smiled.

  I reached for Imani’s hand and we skipped off to the den, where I turned on SpongeBob. She could watch that stuff for hours and you would not hear a peep out of her.

  When I went back to the kitchen, I found Monica loading the dishwasher. I was glad she was doing that because I was too full to move. Until I noticed Monica wiping away tears. She was in her feelings again. This situation with Rich was not easy for her.

  “What’s wrong, Monica?”

  “Nothing, you know, same old thing. I was just thinking about what’s going on with my situation. But I’m cool, though.”

  But I didn’t want her to think about it. I wanted her to just move on. I knew that thinking only brought on the pain. “Monica, you can’t be thinking about—” She held up her hand and stopped me.

  “Mya, you can’t protect me from everything. I know you love me and you want to, but you just can’t. I’m a grown woman now, not some child.” She looked at me hard before she took her hands and dried the wet tears that were covering her skin. She sniffed back pain.

  “Let me say this.” Her voice was almost a plea.

  “Okay, go ahead.”

  “I knew that Rich was trying to control me from day one, just from the small things he did. But once I moved in with him, he promised he would do better. I had my doubts but I liked him so much and I really wanted to try. He acted as if he was a family man and I wanted that for Imani. I wanted her to have a father like we had. I know you remember what it was like before Dad went to jail.”