Authors: Mike Sanders
Thirsty (21 page)
He responded, “Am I ready? I
been
ready! I told you that last week,” he yelled into the phone.
“Okay listen, when I call you back I’ll be on the road and the only stop I’ll make will be to pick you up. If you ain’t ready, you just gonna have to meet me in Chicago.” I took a deep breath and stated, “I’ma take care of this situation
today
!”
“Ice, I’on’ know what you tryna prove, and I’on’ know why you ain’t just give a nigga directions so I can deal wit’ that bitch ass nigga. You know I’m heated about that. Just tell me where that nigga live in case somethin’ happen to you,” Monk stated with concern.
“Trust me on this. I got this, okay Just be ready to go when I hit you,” I replied while tying my hair back into a ponytail.
Monk was silent for a moment, then as if he realized he was fighting a lost cause, he sighed into the phone and reluctantly stated, “Aiight, sis. Well look, I promised Tan I’d see her before I leave so that’s probably where I’ll be when you hit me back.”
“Rock Hill? You still seein’ that girl?” I asked with surprise.
“I just need to take care of this one last thing wit’ her, then it’s a wrap,” he replied, then added, “Ice, be careful baby girl. Love ya.” “Love you too, Monk. See ya later.”
We ended the call on that note and I went to work.
Standing in the living room with my hands on my hips, I looked around with wrinkled eyebrows and wondered where I should start. Since the kitchen is where I’d stashed the rubber gloves, chemical mask, and multiple containers of Febreez, I decided I would start there first. Before putting in work, I pulled on the latex gloves and tied the mask around my face. I knew the chemical was a harmless disinfectant; however, as much as I was about to use would probably knock an elephant on his ass. So, I had to take precautions and try not to inhale it in excess.
I wiped down all of the appliances, cabinets, and even the sink and countertops. I scrubbed from top to bottom, making sure not to miss an inch. Sweat beaded up on my forehead as I moved about, but I continued to clean like a woman possessed. After putting all of the dishes in the dishwasher I walked around to inspect my work and made sure the kitchen was thoroughly spotless. Then I proceeded to the living room and commenced to clean just as diligently as I’d done the kitchen. I wiped down the leather furniture, the tables, lamps and even the remote just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.
Before I’d finished with the living room I had already gone through several containers of the cleaner and the strong scent was attacking my nose. I could even taste it in my throat through the mask. This didn’t deter me nor did it slow me down because as soon as I’d wiped away the last traces of the cleaner from the coffee table I headed down the hall to do the same to the bedroom. I was wiping the walls and light switches en route.
The bedroom was by far the most time consuming because there were more items and more area to clean, but I made sure to clean it just as thoroughly as I had done the other two rooms.
Once the first floor was immaculate, I headed to the second level and wiped down the wooden stair rail and the table that sat in the middle of the hall. By this time, a bitch was winded!
After double-checking to make sure everything was painstakingly unblemished, I was satisfied with my work and I knew J.T. would be pleased to see the house totally sanitized.
I had purposely left the bathroom for last because I needed to take one last shower before scrubbing that area also. My back was aching and both of my arms were damn near numb as I climbed into the shower and let the pulsating water from the spraying showerhead massage my fatigued body. While showering, I closed my eyes and let the past couple months of my life play out like a movie. While looking back on things I began to wonder if this was just my karma coming back to bite me in the ass. I knew I’d done some trifling things to a lot of people and I knew one day all of it would catch up with me, but I never imagined it to be so extreme. However, karma or not, I had a mission to accomplish and I was halfway finished with phase one. Once my shower was complete I wiped down the bathroom before getting dressed. My hair hang loosely down my back just the way J.T. liked it and I put on the skimpy Roberto Cavalli skirt he’d purchased for me a few weeks back. I had never worn the damn thing because I hadn’t had anywhere to where it to, but today was a special occasion and I had decided to go all out and I was going to look my best while doing so.
The straps on my Prada sandals were wrapped around my leg, all the way up my calf and my freshly pedicured toes were looking oh so sexy with my toe ring sparkling. I applied a slight shadow of eyeliner to my eyes and a thin layer of gloss coated my luscious lips as I stood before the mirror, admiring my exotic beauty in the reflection. I looked like the “old Justice,” the Justice before Sapphire was beaten; the Justice before my life had been threatened.
I grabbed my handbag with my “baby” in it and walked with confidence to the living room to watch television. The leather clung to the backs of my thighs as the skirt rose while I took a seat on the sofa. I then used a handkerchief to click on the television with the remote. I wanted to be the first thing J.T. would see when he stepped up in the house. I calmly sat there and watched an episode of the
Young and the Restless.
.
While watching television I vaguely thought about how long it had been since I’d been able to sit down and enjoy my favorite soap without wondering and worrying about what the day would bring. Since my mind was worry free today, I was able to enjoy Victor Newman doing his thing. White, black, or green, no matter what the race, any man with that much power makes my panties wet.
I sat through two soap operas and an episode of
Maury Povich
with a trifling chick who was trying to find out which of the six men onstage was her baby’s daddy. I watched as Maury sounded like a scratched CD as he spat out “You are
not
the father” six times consecutively.
“Ooooh, nasty heifer,” I muttered as the six men celebrated while the girl ran backstage crying with flailing arms.
Halfway through the episode of
Maury
I heard J.T.’s truck pulling up in the driveway. I sat there calmly and continued to watch television as I heard the engine die, then moments later, his truck door closed. I heard his key enter the front door, and then his voice echoed from the doorway.
“Damn, that shit strong!”
He had his nose turned up because of the loud smell of Febreez, which had hit him as soon as he’d opened the door.
“Hey, what’s up, baby,” he spoke as he closed the door behind him. When he walked in I noticed he was carrying a small surplus bag.
“Hey, Daddy,” I smiled as I spoke to that snake!
“Daaaamn, you lookin’ sexy as shit.”
He walked over and took my hand, urging me to stand and slowly twirl around so he could check me out. I obliged with a wide, fake ass smile plastered on my face.
“You like?” I teased as I modeled for him.
“I
love,”
he replied. His baldhead was shining and his pearly whites gleamed as he stood there admiring me with wanting eyes. Then he wrinkled his eyebrows for a second and asked, “Why that air freshener so loud? Lemme find out you been up in here blazin’ without me,” he laughed.
“No, I haven’t been smoking. I just felt like cleaning up.”
I sat back on the sofa and pretended like I was watching the rest of Maury.
“I’ll be back down in a few. I think I wanna take you out this evening. ’Cause you look too damn good to be stuck up in here today. How that sound?” He was headed for the stairs as he spoke.
I smiled, “That’ll be a nice change. I need a drink anyway.”
I watched as he ascended the stairs with the bag in his hand just as I hoped he’d do.
“Think about where you wanna go, and let me know,” his voice was fading as he neared the top of the staircase.
I yelled back, “Okay, baby!”
I was already sliding my “baby” from my purse as I answered him.
Moments after he’d climbed the stairs I heard his office door shut. That was my cue to move!
As I neared the door to his office I could hear the familiar melodious sound of his money counting machine as it rhythmically spit out bill after bill. I was hoping that I’d rocked him to sleep enough so that he’d be totally oblivious to what was about to happen. I was also hoping and praying that he had gotten so comfortable as to have left the door unlocked. He knew I’d never bothered him while he was in this office because I was aware of the fact that this was his private space. But today
his
space was about to become
mine
as well.
When I was directly in front of the large oak door I stood there and silently prayed my nerves would allow me to carry out my task. A million and one emotions began to well up in me all at once. So suddenly, it felt as if they were colliding and toppling over one another. I tried with all the restraint I could muster up to hold back the tears, which were fighting to be released, but it was to no avail because my eyes lost the battle and the water sprang free. Droplets of the eye water stained my blouse and a few drops hit the carpet at my feet. Mascara streaked down my chiseled cheekbones as the tears flowed freely.
Just the thought of how easily the man beyond that door had come into my life and turned it upside down made me really grasp the concept of what could happen when a man catches you at a vulnerable stage. I witnessed first hand how a woman’s mind could really get twisted. After taking a deep breath I reached for the cold knob and was thoroughly surprised to find it unlocked. I paused for a minute to muster up the courage I needed. Then with a trembling hand, I twisted the brass knob and hurriedly pushed the heavy door ajar just in time to witness J.T.’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets as he looked up from his desk where he sat.
His words were cut short when he saw the pistol I was holding and then he noticed the tears that were streaming down my cheeks.
J.T. was seated at his desk in front of the computer with a stack of money in each hand. There was another stack neatly piled on the desk and the counting machine was full, still spitting out money. I looked towards the closet where the safe was located and saw that the closet was open.
“Justice, what the fuck you doin’?” J.T. attempted to gain back some sense of control once the initial shock had worn off.
“Shut up, J.T.! Don’t move or I swear I’ll shoot!” I was still crying with trembling lips and my tongue ring wouldn’t stop clacking.
J.T. started slowly backing away from the desk as he cut his eyes towards the safe for a split second.
I screamed, “Didn’t I say don’t move!? Matter of fact, drop that money and put yo’ hands flat on the desk.”
J.T. hesitated.
“Do it!” I screamed again as I sniffled and wiped a few tears from my eyes. I was standing on the opposite side of his desk and couldn’t see all the way inside the closet, but I needed to know if the safe was open. I eased around the desk and moved slowly towards the closet while keeping my eyes on J.T. the whole time.
“Justice, just put the gun down so we can talk,” J.T. stated calmly.
I ignored him and kept the pistol aimed at him as I neared the closet.
“Justice, just tell me what all this is about! What the hell’s goin’ on?” J.T. was trying to talk his way out of the situation he had suddenly found himself in. He tried to change tactics, “Baby, you know I love you. Why you actin’ like—”
“
Love
!?” I asked, cutting him off. “Nigga, you ‘on’ know nothin’ about
love
! If fuckin’ my life up was
lovin’
me, then I’m gettin’ ready to
love
the hell outta you!”
I aimed the .380 at his head. Tears were still streaming down my cheeks.
J.T. must have realized that his denial was getting him nowhere because I saw the change in his facial expression and his body language as he let out an exasperated sigh. His charade was up and he knew it. He could no longer act as if he had no idea why I had a gun aimed at his face, so he started trying to plead his case.
“Justice, I swear all this shit was just a misunderstanding. I mean, when I realized it had gotten outta hand it was too late.” He looked as if he had tears in his eyes. “I never wanted this shit to go this far. I wanted to protect you, Justice. Why do you think I moved you in here with me?”
I was shaking my head, trying to keep my composure but he sounded
so
sincere!
“Baby, I knew them niggas was tryin’ to get at you, that’s why I had you here so they wouldn’t find you. Justice, I never wanted you or anybody else to get hurt. You gotta believe me. Baby, I swear it’s the truth.”
J.T. was now shedding tears. I had never seen this man show any type of emotion before, yet now here he was crying with a genuinely sincere look in his eyes. I couldn’t take it. The emotions that were flooding my soul all came rising to the surface at once. More tears streamed down cheeks and nervous convulsions had my entire body trembling. I was confused and didn’t know
what
to believe at this point.
“Just, just shut up, J.T.! Shut up!” I screamed, while trying to regain my composure.
I told myself that regardless if what he was saying was true or not, the fact remained that he’d put me and Monk in danger and had played puppet-master with my life. Once I gathered a little composure, I stepped closer to the closet and out of the corner of my eye I saw that the safe’s door was indeed open. Then I made the mistake of taking my eyes off of J.T. for a split second and it was then when all hell broke loose!
J.T. jumped up from the chair and lunged in my direction.
I flinched as I screamed, “Noooooooo!” If he was to get a hold of me I’d probably end up dead, so nervous reflexes had my finger squeezing the trigger as he threw his body at me.
How many times I pulled that trigger became a mystery to me because everything had happened so fast. It all seemed like a blur. I must have squeezed it more times than I could’ve imagined because when the ordeal had ended the gun was empty and I knew for a fact that the clip had been fully loaded.
Still trembling with fear, I looked down and saw J.T. lying at my feet where he had fallen. I could see the blood oozing from his body and spreading out into a pool around him. My blouse and skirt had splotches of his blood on it as did my legs. The sight of J.T.’s motionless, bloody body made me jolt with sudden anguish. I knew I’d killed him because I could smell the foul odor of his loose bowels mixing with the scent of the Febreez, which was pouring into the room. The contents of my stomach began rising in my throat but I choked back the vomit with my hand over my mouth. That acrid smell would be one I’d
never
forget, one that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
For what seemed like an eternity, I stood there mock still in the same spot with the gun in my hand, arms at my side and J.T.’s corpse at my feet. It would be later when I would realize that I’d momentarily been in shock.
When I finally came to my senses I ran back out of the office and headed downstairs to the kitchen, careful as not to leave any prints as I grabbed a trash bag. Then it was back up to the office while carefully avoiding the blood on the floor as I reentered. Hastily, I began filling the trash bag with the money from the desk and the counting machine. Then I walked over to the closet and looked inside the large safe. What I saw was unbelievable.
There was more money, and an assortment of platinum jewelry along with several guns. With trembling hands and wet eyes, I filled the bag with money and jewelry and left the guns behind, because I had no use for them. Once the last bill had been stuffed inside the bag I stepped around J.T.s body. His hand twitched and it caused me to scream out with fright! Live nerves still had his fingers twitching as I clutched the trash bag to my chest and ran out of that office. I gripped the knob with the bottom of my blouse and hurriedly pulled the door closed behind me.
When that office door was closed, separating me from J.T.’s lifeless body, part of me wanted to run back inside that room and try to save that man’s life. I stood there staring at that closed door, having visions of J.T. with that sincere look in his eyes and those tears rolling down his face.
I thought,
What if he was telling the truth? What if he was only trying to get the gun away from me so that we could talk like civilized adults?
Tears of confusion mixed with fear fell in droves onto the carpet as my mind flipped like a gymnast.
Justice, he’s dead! He’s dead! There’s nothing you can do but put as many miles as possible between you and this house!
rationality screamed through my head as I slowly backed away from the door with weak
,
wobbly legs.
My next stop inside the house was the bedroom where the rest of the jewelry, including Mark’s was stashed. I picked up the wooden box and dropped it inside the garbage bag along with the rest of the money and jewelry. When I was sure I hadn’t missed anything I took a few minutes to clean myself up and change clothes. I made sure to cover all possible tracks. No prints? Check! No blood on me? Check! No signs of me ever being there? Double-check!
When everything was good to go I exited the house, lugging the trash bag behind me. I locked J.T.’s front door with a handkerchief and couldn’t bring myself to look back as I opened my car door and tossed the bag into the backseat. I pulled out of J.T.’s driveway the same way I’d pulled in several weeks earlier; with tears in my eyes and a trunk full of clothes! Instead of being a chick on the run for her life, I was now on the run for my freedom.
When I got onto the highway I dialed my brother’s number with trembling fingers and spoke with a shaky voice as I told him I was ready to go home. I was so scared and so paranoid it felt as if everyone on the road was staring at me like they knew exactly what I’d just done. My conscious was
already
killing me softly.
I kept trying to remind myself that I’d gotten away clean, but I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. I knew the only people who could link me with what I’d just done were Red and Joy. But all Red knew about me was my first name and what kind of car I drove. And not even the car could be traced back to me because it was in Sapphire’s name. However, Joy knew a whole lot more. But unbeknownst to me at that time, Joy wouldn’t be talking to anyone ever again unless it was during a séance.
I tried to force myself to relax by taking deep breaths and holding them for a few seconds before exhaling. After a few minutes of this I was finally halfway calm enough to almost concentrate on the road as I put in Keysha Cole’s CD and slipped my Chanel shades over my puffy, bloodshot eyes.
“Two more stops, Justice, Rock Hill and Chicago. It’s almost over,” I kept repeating to myself as I rode down 1-77, heading towards South Carolina to meet my brother.