Deep Deception 2 (26 page)

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Authors: Tina Brooks McKinney

BOOK: Deep Deception 2
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So many emotions were flowing through me. I was confused as to what I was supposed to be doing. How could I ever forgive and forget his plan to kill me?
“Honey, shut the door. I really botched this whole thing. I can see it in your eyes. You are looking at me like I’m the enemy. If you give us all a chance, you will see for yourself how much we love you.”
I wanted to trust her. I needed to trust her because if I didn’t, then it would have meant everything was a lie and I refused to believe it, but something in the back of my head was warning me to tread lightly. I searched Mrs. Ramsey’s face and I saw her sincerity. She may have been guilty of withholding the truth from me, but I honestly believed she did it out of love. I was no longer afraid to leave my child in her care. I could feel her pain and her sincerity she had for me and my son. “I’m fine, but I would still like to go to my husband’s office to speak with him. I cannot allow something this big to go unaddressed. Please do not call him and let him know I’m coming. Will you please do that for me?” If she failed this little test, I would know not to trust any of them again.
“He will be fine. Go handle your business, but try to remember what I said, he does love you.” I wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, but I held on to the small hope it was me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
 
TILO ADAMS
 
I woke from another crazy-ass dream—soaked with sweat—but this time it wasn’t Victória standing over me with a gun pointed at my head, it was Moses. His face was fiery, his eyes sharp as laser beams aimed at my heart. When I woke from the dream, I was shaking so badly, I wasn’t even able to make it to the bathroom. I peed right in the bed and sank back onto the soiled sheets, too tired to get out of my own piss.
“This shit is getting old.” My voice was hoarse; it felt like I’d been screaming for a very long time. Almost like when you go to a sporting event and your favorite team is winning. My body was beaten down and broken. I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since the murders, and I wasn’t eating. Every time I forced myself to eat something I threw it up in a matter of hours.
“I can’t keep doing this to myself. I’ve got to find a way to deal with this shit and keep it moving, or I might as well roll over on my damn self.”
I’d been having this same conversation with myself for months, but nothing was changing. I thought things would get better for me once I left Atlanta behind but that wasn’t working. I was also beginning to believe no amount of money was worth this shit.
I’d much rather be broke and happy than wealthy and miserable any day.
“Get over it, bitch. It ain’t like you could give the shit back and things would magically go back to the way they were.” More and more I found myself talking aloud to myself, and sadly I was answering. The fact that I changed the face of an entire family and the inability to talk to anyone about it was slowly driving me insane.
“Fuck you. Why didn’t you think about this shit before you pulled the fucking trigger? There were other ways to handle it.”
“How? How the fuck do you steal money out of someone’s hand and get the fuck away? Oh, did I forget to mention they knew who the fuck you were?”
“Uh, we could have—”
“Bitch, please, you can’t even get the thought out of your mouth. That’s how stupid you sound right now. You and I both know that shit wouldn’t work. We had to shut the door on the investigation because the bureau wasn’t going to claim involvement. Killing them closed the investigation and you know it. There was no other way, trust and believe that.”
I leaned forward and placed my head in my hands, trying to calm the beating drum inside my head. Fragments of conversations would flicker in and out like tiny light bulbs in my head. I needed for the voices and the visions to stop. I knew that what I was feeling wasn’t right, but I didn’t know what to do about it.
“So what do you want to do about it? Go to some shrink and confess all of our sins? They’ll lock our asses up in a New York minute.” I started laughing. The irony of the statement was that I was in New York, and this was one city where it was okay to walk around talking to yourself because nobody cared. From what I’d seen on television, the people were so busy getting from place to place, they didn’t take time to see one another. This realization fueled me into getting up.
“I can be anyone I want to be in New York. Shit, I’m going fucking shopping.” I rose from the wet bed, my panties clinging to me like a second layer of skin. As I walked past the mirror, I avoided eye contact. Despite my new look, I didn’t enjoy looking at myself, not anymore. I turned on the shower, tossing my wet clothing in the trash. I had soiled so many clothes, shopping was not a want, it was a necessity because I was down to my last few pairs of panties. I turned on the water as hot as I could stand it and entered the shower, but no matter how hard I scrubbed, I could not undo my past.
I left the shower feeling rejuvenated and eager to cast aside my demons once and for all. My biggest threat was Moses. Although I didn’t think he would come for me, I had to be certain.
“Rome, can you talk?” I was using another disposable phone, which I planned to throw away once I received confirmation.
“Yeah, what’s up?” His voice was low as if he were trying to keep our conversation on the down low.
I immediately got suspicious and paranoid. It was becoming increasingly difficult to determine which emotion reigned supreme in my head. “Motherfucker, are you tryin’ to play me?” I demanded.
“Hold up, what the hell are you talking about? I ain’t got time for no bullshit.” Rome snapped back with a fire I’d never heard in his voice when he spoke to me.
This little bitch didn’t know who he was fucking with, and if he didn’t recognize it, I had no problem with writing another chapter to his life—the ending. “Bullshit? I think you’d better check yourself, motherfucker. I’m not the one. Why the fuck were you whispering?” Infused with anger, I hated the fact that cities separated us instead of miles because I would have handled his ass.
“Because I was in a motherfucking elevator and I didn’t want everybody listening to my fucking conversation.”
Damn, instead of me checking him, he checked my ass. I struggled for something to say after he reminded me that he wasn’t sitting on his ass waiting for me to call. “What’s the deal with the package you were handling?” I decided not to mention Moses to him. He had reason to suspect my judgment now, and I didn’t want to put the nail in my own coffin.
“Uh—”
“What the fuck does that mean? Either you did or you didn’t. It’s a simple motherfucking question.” I was heated again.
“Look, shit is kind of crazy around here. The narcs and Feds are everywhere so I don’t really have an answer for you.”
“And, what are you telling me?” I tried hard to keep the rage I felt racing through my blood out of my voice.
“I got the stuff, but I’m trying to figure out how to deliver it,” he said with a laugh that could only be described as nervous.
“Pussy, take the shit yourself. I’m trying to get ghost and I need my money.” I was angry, but since I still needed his help, I was trying to play nice. But when he delivered my goods, I was gonna make sure he never rose his voice at any other motherfucker in life.
“Tilo, I—”
“Bitch, didn’t I tell you not to call me that anymore? Fuck, you trying to mess my shit up?” I was enraged and ready to do damage. I flung a vase from the table at the paneled mirror and glass rang out through the air. Tiny shards of glass and ceramic pieces from the vase stuck in my exposed arms. I dropped the phone, covering my face.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Rome had to be shouting because I could make out his voice clearly, even though the phone was still on the floor. Obviously, flinging the vase wasn’t the smartest move I’d made all day. Not only was I going to have to spend the next hour or so picking glass and shit from my body, I would have to pay for the horrible mess I’d made of my hotel room. I picked up the phone with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. I felt like a junkie needing a fix, but I didn’t know what I should be taking.
“It’s nothing,” I lied into the phone.
“Nothing, it sounded like the motherfucking cops were kicking in your damn door.”
“Why you got to throw salt on my plate, wishing the cops on me and shit?”
“Ain’t nobody wishing shit. I’m just telling you how the shit sounded to me.” He was huffing and puffing like he was big shit, which only fueled my irritation with him.
“Rome, if you want to get anywhere close to my Colombia connection, you’d better get me my money by the end of the week. I could probably find ten people who would like to make this connect if I wanted to, but I decided to offer it to you first. But it comes with a big price tag and time is of the essence. If you don’t sell the shit then you lose big time, because my ass is about to be dead for real and I’m taking my connect with me.”
“I’m gonna get the fucking money. Why you got to keep on threatening me and shit? I said I got you.”
In my mind, I could see his face. There was nothing like a grown-ass man pouting like a ten-year-old child. It was fucking sickening, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. “It wasn’t a threat.” I left the rest of the sentence unsaid. He knew.
“All right then,” he said as he hung up.
For a second or two I stared at the phone, unable to believe he had hung up on me. It was ballsy on his part because he never knew where I would be coming from. I could’ve been around the corner from him and he’d never know it.
 
Shopping normally made me feel good, and shopping with money in my pocket should have restored my soul. However, the voices in my head continued to fuck with me, and I wasn’t able to determine which voices were real. I stopped at my favorite store to shop for some underwear. I liked Macy’s selection much better than the highly publicized Victoria’s Secret. To me the silk felt richer, and I enjoyed wearing underwear that caressed my skin. I held up a panty set and rubbed the crotch over my lips. As I rubbed the pink panties over my mouth, I thought of Victória. My mouth watered as I sniffed the panties.
“You smell so good, baby,” I muttered as I continued to sniff them, lost in a pussy-laden fantasy. Good pussy was like a large lobster soaked in butter. After you cracked the shell and pulled out the meat, your tongue was in for a treat. I sniffed again and sighed.
“You know what I want, I’m gonna suck on your fat clit until I get it.” I was enjoying my personal vision so much I forgot I was in full view of everyone in the crowded store. I could smell her fresh scent and it was driving me nuts. I rubbed the panties over my chest, causing my nipples to peak against my blue tank top.
“Damn, baby, why you want to tease me? Stop playing.” I urgently needed release. I felt like I’d been holding my nut in for years instead of a few months.
“Oh, you want me to take you home? Is that what you want? Victória, why didn’t you tell me?” I rushed to the doors of the store with one thought on my mind, busting a humongous nut. It had started to rain as I got outside, but I didn’t care. I was on a mission.
“Excuse me, miss?” I felt a slight tug on my arm.
“What the fuck?” I snatched my arm back and dusted it off. The pink panties were still entwined in my other hand, practically dripping with spit and perspiration.
“I’m going to need for you to return to the store,” the buff security guard said.
My trance was broken. I looked around and I didn’t recognize where I was. “Huh?” I had obviously walked out a different door than the one I came in because I had no clue where I was.
“I need you to return to the store,” the guard repeated and grabbed my arm again.
I misunderstood his intentions. “I’m lost, could you help me find my way back to the New Yorker Hotel?” I was in the beginning of a panic attack, and I needed to get back to my room so I could get myself together.
The guard was leading me deeper into the store; it felt like everyone was watching me.
“Hey, what is going on? I thought you were going to give me directions.” I couldn’t hear Victória anymore, and I wanted to get back to that happy place where she was whispering in my ear. I needed to find that place.
“... shoplifting. Are you going to add resisting arrest, too?”
Hold the fuck up. This beefy motherfucker finally has my attention. Does he even know who he is fucking with? Hell, I could pay his salary. I don’t need to shoplift.
“What did you just say?” I had no idea what this man was talking about, but if he touched me again, he was going to be really sorry.
“I need to see your receipt for your purchase today.”
I pulled back, suddenly conscious of where I was and what was going on. “What purchase?” I couldn’t remember buying anything, but if he needed a receipt, surely I had one in my purse.
“If you grant me permission to check your purse, we can typically handle this without calling the police.”
Police? He had my full attention now. The last thing I needed was having the police all up in my shit. Even though my identification was legit, there were some gaps in my life that I wasn’t prepared to account for. I handed over my purse for inspection. After a few seconds the guard passed it back to me.
“What is going on? Is this the way the store handles its shoppers?” I was about to get black on his ass. Especially since he’d searched my purse and didn’t find anything stolen.
“No, it’s not, but we also don’t expect our customers to steal.” He was looking down on me, and it was getting on my fucking nerves.
“I don’t need to steal shit. I didn’t see anything in this bitch that I wanted.” I got up, ready to leave, but he stood blocking the door.
“Did you pay for that?”
Once again I had no idea what he was talking about, but I followed his line of vision to my hand that was still clutching the pink panties.
“Motherfucker.” The panties. I’d forgotten all about the talking panties.
“Excuse me? Are you all right?” He put the bass in his voice, but I also detected a little compassion.
I had to climb out of this shit in a hurry. “I am so sorry. I never intended to walk out of the store. I mean who goes to the store and steals fucking panties, especially if they have a purse full of money. I didn’t even realize I still had them.” I tried to hand him the panties but he refused to take them. When I looked, I understood why. The panties were damp and hanging limply from my fingers. They were no longer pretty; they felt soiled.

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