Nympho (17 page)

I couldn't grunt, let alone talk; my words weren't audible. All I could do was jerk around as Rico untied a felt bag and dumped it on top of my body. Crickets, blood worms, and spiders were moving in all directions across my skin. He knew I hated creepy crawlers because I had mentioned it to him when we were in Annapolis. I spotted a jumping cricket while we were there and had a royal fit, begging him to protect me.

“Well if you'll excuse me, I'm late for a bachelor party that's already started to
jump
off. Everyone's gonna see how you went from having the tightest pussy in D.C. to the loosest, puta! You're a star waiting to be discovered. Can Rico have your autograph? He loves your work. FYI, a little birdie told me to remind you that snitches always do end up in ditches,” he said, taking off my engagement ring and laying it up on my chest. “Don't get anymore stupid than you already are. Me cago en tu madre,” he added, walking over to the radio in my room.

Rico found a station with classical music and turned it all the way up. Then he walked back over to the bed and executed his last step of madness—securing a chastity belt to my body. I struggled as best I could, but it was in vain. The whole belt required four locks and loco Rico locked every one. Once he was done, Rico left me all alone in bondage—literally.

Hours passed. I wiggled my wrists in every direction possible, but all the twine did was dig into them. They felt raw and battered. I heard a noise under the bed. To my surprise, my sister's dog appeared and licked me in the face. Any other time, I'd be mad as hell. This time I was glad to see her because she was the one that chased the crickets away, most of them scattering when she approached. She sat next to me like I deserved her loyalty, proving that a dog can be a woman's best friend.

 

I heard my sister's voice calling her dog. I fought to speak but still couldn't.

The dog barked and pressed her nose against the screen in the open window.

“Where are you?” Angela called. The dog barked again. “Did that mean, evil Leslie hurt mommy's baby?” Miss Lady barked once more. “Should I report her for cruelty to animals?” The dog stopped barking as if she understood the question. “I'm going to get you out of there. I'm sorry you got left behind. If I die trying, I'm going to rescue my little wittle poopsie,” she said as if she were speaking to an infant.

“Do you think she's home?” I heard someone ask Angela.

“I think so—that's her car in the driveway.”

“Well let's find a way in,” said a man's voice.

“As I told you both, she made it clear she didn't want to see us. I still can't believe how rude she was to me and my family. I don't care about the other things I left, but Miss Lady can't stay here with that insane girl. At first I was scared to come back for her but then I thought about it. Leslie is very unstable and may kill her or something out of spite. You both spoiled Leslie growing up, that's the problem. She's probably pretending she's not home.”

“Nonsense,” my mother commented. I finally recognized her voice. “If I were a spare key, where would I be? I raised you girls to think ahead.”

I heard my mother searching under flower pots, mats, and whatever she could get her hands on to lift or inspect. Somehow, she managed to find my spare key. Like it or not, I heard the door knob turn. The threesome followed the noise of my sister's barking dog. When they reached my room, they all screamed. What could I do but accept that we were reunited while I was in a very compromising position, to say the least. After ten plus years, this is how it all went down.

“L
ook at her. Should we call the police? What should we do, Charles?” my mother asked, standing over top of me. She even looked up my nose and poked on my collarbone like a physician.

“For God's sake, Charlotte, stop prodding and probing her like she's an anomaly and let's get her out of this mess so we can get to the bottom of this. Obviously, that's what we should do!” my father responded with impatience in his voice. My father looked away from my direction, obviously embarrassed that I was nearly nude.

“You don't have any respect for yourself do you? How could you dare be naked in front of your own father? I told you they were coming here. What kind of pervert are you?” Angela ranted while petting Miss Lady.

I hurled many expletives Angela's way, but she was unaware because my mouth was still bound by Rico's contraption.

“Get smart again, and I won't take it off!” she snapped. I guess she sensed that I was not paying her compliments. She ripped the device off as hard as she could, obviously hoping to deliver as much pain as possible.

“Ouch! Are you crazy, snatching that ball from out of my mouth like that, bitch?”

“Mother, Father—I told you. Did you hear what that girl said? She called me a bitch!” Angela said, trying to report me like a seven-year-old a tattletale. My parents had disappeared to find something to free my arms and legs. With a glaring look, she turned toward me, crossing her arms around her dog tightly, almost squeezing her to death. “How about a thank you?”

“Fat chance, Angela. You're just as flighty as you can be. And your dog is a much better relative than you'll ever be,” I told her. She puffed her jaws with air and stormed out of the room.

“What do I do?” Mom asked, walking around to look at my father.

“Hold your hands steady,” my father replied. “With this arthritis, I can't do it. And someone needs to put something over her. I don't enjoy seeing my daughter indecent!”

“Well, if we get her out of this mess, maybe she can put some clothes on,” my mother snapped. She cut through the duct tape and freed my legs. I shook them and smiled with relief. “Now what?” she asked, turning to my father again.

“Use this box cutter to cut the rope around her wrist. Be careful, Charlotte. You must be particularly careful.”

“Let Angela do it. I'm afraid I might miss.”

“Angela, would you?” my father asked.

“Hell no. Let the bitch stay like this for all I care.”

“Oh, you girls. I swear. It's just like when you were children all over again,” Mom said.

“Yeah, Angela might break a nail. She can't do it anyway. What does she know about using a box cutter up in L.A., with her fu fu, shi shi crowd.” I laughed, using reverse psychology.

“I can to do it,” she exclaimed, snatching the box cutter from my mother. In ten seconds flat. My wrists were free. I grinned. “I am not touching the chastity belt though. Hell no!”

“Leslie, aren't you glad to see us? Where are our hugs and kisses?” my father commented, ignoring Angela.

I grabbed my robe from the chaise lounge, threw it on, and ran over to my father and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. I left my mother hanging as she turned her cheek, expecting me to greet her.

“Won't you tell us what happened? Should we call the police?” dad asked.

“No more questions, please. I wouldn't want to bore you with all the silly details. This is embarrassing enough.”

“Freak. You always were weird,” Angela taunted.

I ignored her and ran to my closet to find some fresh clothes. I didn't want to waste time before indulging in an invigorating shower and treating my skin to some sweet smelling Bath and Body Works Pleasures pearberry shower gel, so I cut it short. My mother was following me around like a shadow, but I all but pushed her out of the way and headed for soap and water. I turned on the water, lathered up, and rinsed the bugs and Rico's cum from my skin. I hopped out of the shower, dried off, then threw on my robe and pulled the belt tight.

“Maybe you ought to learn how to please your man so he can stop killing his liver, one bottle of liquor at a time,” I told Angela as I bolted past her.

My parents wanted to know why I abandoned the family, but I didn't have time to delve into issues they should've figured out by the time I reached my seventeenth birthday.

“Gotta go . . . gotta go,” I mumbled, slinging my purse on my shoulder and grabbing my keys out of a dish on my dresser.

“Should we wait here?” my mother asked.

“Whatever's clever,” I said, running down the steps.

“Where are you going?” she called after me.

“Out!”

“When's this wedding you didn't bother to invite us to?” my father shouted.

I paused, looked up at him and said, “Soon. Gotta go . . . gotta go . . . gotta go!”

I felt as if I were the one having the press conference as Angela claimed she was planning. Although my family continued shooting questions toward me, I put my family woes on the back shelf of my mind and squealed tires, eager to break up Rico's shindig. Rico might have scared me a bit, but he didn't make me back down. I put up my dukes and decided to go toe-to-toe, neck and neck, blow for blow, letting him know that if he wouldn't stop, neither would my alter ego, Innocence.

“W
oo wee! That's a freak right there. If I ever found a dime piece like that, I'd take care of business!” Rico shouted.

I was standing in the breezeway near the living room where Trey and his boys were having his bachelor party. When Rico detained me against my will, I don't think he realized how cocky he was. He was so sure I wouldn't get loose in time to stop him from showing the tape that he told me they were partying at Scott's place. I remembered who Scott was and where he lived, so I knew exactly where to go. When I arrived at my destination and rang the bell, one of the men attending the party thought I was a stripper coming to pop my coochie and let me in. Before I stepped through the door I held my left index finger to my mouth, then winked, leading him to believe my strip act was a big surprise. It was a big surprise—just not the one he was expecting! I knew I had to work fast so he couldn't clarify anything.

“They got some freaky,
freaky
freaks in D.C. Try any club, the workplace, bars . . . you didn't know? Where have you been?” another voice said as I eavesdropped.

“Hook a brother up then—please, playboy!” Rico responded.

“Find your own play, bama. Freaks are a dime a dozen in Chocolate City. All you gotta do is put out a few bucks for a drink and pretend you may be that needle in a haystack who's gonna stick around. Ain't no man in the D.C. area gonna settle down and spend no lifetime with these materialistic, shallow bitches.”

“Harlem, Atlanta, Detroit, Miami Beach—they're all the same. You can't trust 'em no more than you can chunk 'em, my brother,” another said. “The best thing to do is keep them nasty hos on the call and hit it list. The only thing they're good for is getting their brains fucked out. If you start catching feelings for any of these broads out here, you'll be short. My boy at my job is paying some broad a grand every paycheck and she didn't even have to work when they were married. Now that's some expensive pussy for your ass,” a third agreed.

“Damn! This bitch is bad though. Listen to the way she's slurping on that thang while those dudes got her role playing in some cop shit. Any freak who takes care of a man in the bedroom like that is worth the extra money and trouble. What I'm looking at doesn't come along every day. Say what you want but that right there is up there with that girl who wrote that book about sleeping with cats in the music industry.” Rico snapped his fingers. “Ya'll know who I'm talking about. What's her name again?” he asked.

“Superhead. The one that wrote
Confessions of a Video Vixen,
” someone replied.

“Yeah, that's it. Look how much she was supposedly getting paid to take care of brothas. The freak on the tape is about to turn around real soon. This is my favorite flick. The good part is coming. I don't think this ho is acting, either. Wait until you see her pretty face. She's a one of a kind beauty,” Rico said.

I searched through my twisted mind to find a way to make my spiel fly. Before I could think it over, Innocence began to move her lips with confidence. I took a deep breath and busted into the room as the men alternated between bashing women and watching the tape. I stood directly in front of the TV screen to block the picture.

“You're momma wasn't no glassmaker, dear,” one of the men shouted.

Without wasting time I quickly found the bottom of the DVD player and ended the show. I ejected the DVD and dropped it in my large purse.

“My number one pet peeve is a hypocrite. Trey, what has come over you? I thought we made it clear that there would be no making love, and obviously watching booty tapes isn't appropriate either.”

“How did you find us?” Rico asked, looking as if I could've knocked him over with a feather. “We were just trying to have a little fun—no harm done. We don't even have strippers or anything. It's just the boys, beer, and a few pizzas. Let us watch the tape, master,” Rico said, recovering quickly from his apparent shock.

“Don't worry about how I found you. Watch your mouth, Rico,” I answered.

I know what he was really wondering was how I managed to escape his bizarre obstacle course and put up my dukes to stand up to his psycho ass. We communicated nonverbally as I squinted my eyes and stared at him like he hadn't shaken my nerves one tiny bit.

“If you're the Christian you say, you shouldn't be lusting over other women—that's ungodly, and I don't appreciate your friends proving to be bad influences. Do you hear me, Trey? Say something.”

Trey stood there holding his palms upward as if he were going to provide an explanation. I knew I planned to cut him off as soon as he started speaking in order to shift the blame without suspicion.

“But Leslie—I . . .”

“We're about to start a new chapter of our lives tomorrow, and I refuse to allow you to hold on to a bachelor mentality. The man I'm marrying is one with the cloth and he shouldn't be afraid to admit that he is. I'm not trying to put our business out in the street, but you think it's wrong to even lust after me. Since that's the case, this can't be right either,” I reminded Trey. “There's no excuse and don't give me some shit about men being men. I'm not the one to tolerate that sexist mess. Stop acting like women would be in search of you from foreign countries just because you're such a lover boy—there's no mambo party going on in your pants. In fact, you're practically dead from the waist down. I practically have to beg to get some from you. Now put that in your pan and fry it!” I continued shaking my finger like a newly wed wife, standing directly in Trey's space.

His boys snickered as I chided him in front of them. Trey dropped his head as if I were stripping him of his manhood, layer by layer. I knew I was and I enjoyed humiliating him in front of the perfect audience.

One man I didn't know started booing, laughing, and whispering like Trey was a punk. I knew I had embarrassed my fi-ancée and didn't give a shit. A grown man should've been giving his woman some dick. I'm sure each of them was taking care of business with their freaks of the week.

I pulled Trey to the privacy of an empty corner and convinced him to gather his things then immediately booked a hotel room. I didn't want anyone to know where we were until it was time to show up at church, especially Rico. He kissed my lips and threw up his hands as he exited the scene of my close call.

“Just because he's got to leave doesn't mean we have to. How about leaving us the flick,” someone said.

“Get one of your freaks to make your very own,” I answered, smirking. I added, “A freak in D.C. is a dime a dozen, right? Furthermore, every one of you old heads needs to grow up and stop picking up young hoppers in clubs. One of these days they're going to mistake you for someone's old ass grandfather who can't give up the game even if there are more of you than there are of them. By the time you settle down you'll need penis pumps.”

“Damn! Sister girl don't play. I don't think we'll be seeing too much of Trey anymore!” a man shouted.

“Ya damn skippie!” I answered.

“Who knows,” Rico commented. “We may be seeing Leslie and Trey more than we all think.”

I ignored Rico's jab and left the party with the evidence that I was the unknown, unofficial porn star who was doing all sorts of things with those officers.

I had two rooms reserved for Trey and I. I started to give him the information and tell him that I'd meet him, but I changed my mind. I couldn't take a chance he'd take any detours. There was no way that Trey could come home with me in case my family decided to remain on the premises. Instead, I had him follow me to check in. After he found a Discovery Channel documentary on sharks, I felt confident he'd stay entertained while I packed my slip, shoes, jewelry, veil and everything else I needed for my big day.

Thankfully, my family was not at my place when I returned. They left a note on the fridge that read:
WE WILL BE BACK. THERE'S NO FOOD FOR US TO EAT. WE HAVE YOUR SPARE KEY.
Thank goodness it was almost time to put the whole scandalous ordeal behind me because I was beginning to feel the weight of so much pressure. In my left hand, I carried my bat for protection, and put my mace on my key ring, just in case I needed to take a nigga down in the dark.

It almost slipped my mind, but when I was leaving my house I called Tanya and did my best to convince her that Rico was lying to ruin our friendship over what happened before. She didn't answer at home, and her cell phone went straight to voicemail. I found this to be odd, given that I should've heard from my maid of honor the night before my wedding. After all, she did say she didn't want Rico to come between us. No one is all good or all bad. Although I had done my fair share of stabbing her in the back, I did decide that something would be missing if my girl didn't show to participate in my wedding, so I left her a message. I knew there was a reason for everything, and I would soon find out what it was. In less than twenty-four hours, everything would be a wrap. It was a good thing because Leslie didn't know how much more she could take of the mess Innocence got her wrapped up in. And by the way, I won't mention how I escaped from my chastity belt. It wasn't pretty . . . but I did.