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Authors: Miasha

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“That won’t be necessary,” another voice said.

“Oh, that’s you, cousin?” the short, stocky guy asked. “My bad,” he continued as he looked me over one last time and then walked away.

“Thank you,” I said to the voice I had not matched with a face yet.

“No problem,” the voice responded. “I knew he wasn’t your type.”

I finally turned around and asked, “What’s my type?”

And damn it if my type wasn’t staring me right in the face. He was light brown like honey with slanted light brown eyes and a head full of sandy brown curly hair. He looked good as shit. He had a gorgeous smile that revealed two tiny dimples and some beautiful teeth. I just wanted to jump on his lap and start tonguing him down. But I kept my cool, though.

“You look like you’re into a good-looking guy who likes to have fun and spend money,” he said, flashing that killer smile.

“Bingo,” I said softly, unable to take my eyes off of him.

He smirked and introduced himself. “I’m Darrell.”

“Celess,” I replied.

“Dance with me,” he commanded.

And I did—all night, song after song. I thought I had fallen in love.

It had been three weeks since I’d been talking to my newfound friend Darrell and it had been at least that long since I’d heard from O. I called him almost every day and left messages on his phones. I wanted to make sure he was still paying my car note after the stunt Tariq pulled with my mortgage. He hadn’t returned any of my calls. He hadn’t even bothered to call me and check on me. I was heated.

“O, listen, if you got another girl or something just let me know. It’s cool, you do your thing, I’ll do mine. Just let me know what you’re going to do about my car, that’s all. You can fuck all the bitches you want. You can disappear for a month all you want. Just call me about my car, please!”

Ring! Ring!

Damn, I’m good, I thought, but it wasn’t O.

“Hello,” I answered the phone quick.

“Hey, sexy,” the voice greeted me.

I felt chills go up my spine. “What’s up?”

“I want to see you today,” Darrell said.

“Likewise,” I said.

“Let’s go down to the shore,” he said.

“The shore?”

“Yeah, we can chill at my beach house, maybe get something to eat, walk the boardwalk, see a movie…”

“I’m sold,” I said, smiling. I was into that romantic shit.

I hung up the phone with Darrell feeling giddier than a mothafucka. This dude is good, I remember thinking. Fuck O.

May

“T
INA!” I said, crying.

“What the hell is wrong?”

“O!”

“Celess, calm the fuck down and tell me what is going on,” Tina demanded.

I tried to stop crying and held back my tears.

“They kidnapped O,” I explained.

“Who? When? What happened?”

“I went to Delaware ’cause I ain’t hear from him in a minute, and when I was ringing his bell the young bull that always used to be with him came up to me and told me he was missing,” I quickly said in one breath.

“Well, when did this happen? I mean, do they know anything about who did it?” Tina sounded concerned.

“Whoever did it was close to him and been planning it for a while, ’cause they snatched him up on 95. He was making a major run to D.C.”

“How the hell they get ’im on 95?”

“He must have stopped at a rest stop, ’cause that’s where they found his car,” I explained. “All of the seats were cut open.”

“Yeah, they knew ’im and they knew exactly what it was hittin’ for. Anytime they know where his stash was,” Tina concluded.

“I know,” I said, sniffling. “And they got about forty thousand pounds and three hundred thou in cash.”

“Them pussies made sure they wouldn’t need ransom,” Tina said, as if she was in thought.

I started crying again. “That’s how I know they killed him.”

I guess it wasn’t “fuck O” after all, because I really got depressed after I found out about his kidnapping. It was weird that out of all the dudes I fucked with, I felt for O the most even though he was the one who brought me so much drama and treated me like shit sometimes. I didn’t realize how much I felt for him until that shit happened.

Tina arrived at my house on a Friday afternoon. She had come to offer moral support. I was still in my pajamas in the bed. I hadn’t been dressed since I last spoke to her on the phone five days before. I spent my days crying and thinking and crying some more. I couldn’t help but think about all the brutal and crazy things they might have done to O or where he could be or if he was alive somewhere hanging on to his life. The thoughts I was getting were driving me crazy. I wished I could have done something. I just kept imagining him somewhere getting tortured or somewhere dead. I couldn’t stop thinking or crying.

“You have to snap out of this, Celess,” Tina insisted. “Celess!” Tina sang as she waved her hand in front of my face. “You need to get in the shower, sweetie, and do something with yourself.”

She sat down on the couch next to me.

“You need to find a way to get in his house,” she continued. “He gotta have a stash at his crib. And find out where to send your car payments to before they come and repo that shit. You can get that new dude you got to pay the note. I don’t know who gonna pay the insurance.”

I just glanced up at her in disgust in between zoning out. Sometimes I wondered if she had a heart, or at least a conscience.

“Yup, I’m tellin’ you, you should go back down to Delaware and see if somebody has a key. Oooh, no, call up a locksmith and tell them you locked yourself out. They’ll make the key on the spot. You go in, find his stash, and roll out,” she explained.

“Tina, please just be quiet,” I finally said.

“Shit, it’s just a matter of time before one of his fake-ass friends think to do it,” she said, trying to justify herself.

“Maybe that’s true, but O is out there somewhere probably getting fucked up or shot up or just lying somewhere dead, and you…” I burst into tears again.

“Celess, I know you hurt and everything, but that’s the game. Shit, I saw my whole family murdered behind that shit,” Tina said with attitude. “After a while you just learn to suck shit up.”

Tina could play tough all she wanted, but I knew walking in and seeing her mom, dad, and older brother dead in pools of blood cut her deep. She was only ten. Can you imagine seeing something like that at ten? She swears it had no lasting impact on her, but I’m not sure. The fact that she pretends like she doesn’t care about anything or anybody is the result of seeing her murdered family’s bodies at ten years old, among other things.

“Tina, it’s easier said than done,” I said, ignoring her façade.

“Well, be like Nike and just do it, hah!” she said, giggling, with a huge smile on her face. She slapped my leg in a joking, playful way.

“What DVDs you got?”

I just gave Tina a blank look and felt sorry for her.

Tina’s visit ended as awkward as it began. I was still depressed, and she gave up trying to make me feel better.

 

It was a rainy Monday. I had been sitting in the house all morning contemplating what I was going to do about my car. I had the registration. It was in somebody named Carolyn Rodriguez’s name. It had her address, so I decided to go to her house.

A short, chubby Puerto Rican girl came to the door. “Who you?”

“I’m Celess, Omar’s friend,” I said, trying not to offend anybody.

“Mommy!
Una muchacha a la puerta. Una amiga de Omar,
” the girl yelled.

I waited at the door while a heavyset older-looking woman slowly walked down the stairs. She had long dark hair and a chubby face. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt that came past her knees and a pair of slippers.

“Come in, sit down,” Carolyn said with a heavy Puerto Rican accent.

I walked into the small row house. “Hi, I’m Celess, a friend of Omar’s,” I introduced myself as I took a seat on the black leather couch beside Carolyn.

“Yeah, I know who you are,” Carolyn said, looking me over. “Omar told me about ju. You one of the girls from Philly, right?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Which car you have?” she asked while motioning for her daughter to give her some papers from off the sixty-inch television in their tiny living room. “The Range Rover, the Escalade, or the Lexus?” she continued as she rummaged through the papers.

I was confused but I told her, “The Range Rover.”

“Right, right.”

“Here is all the papers for the Range Rover, where you can make you payments to and everything, okay?”

I took the pile of papers from Carolyn, but I stayed put on the sofa. I wanted to know more. It didn’t make sense for me to take a half-hour trip in the rain and go back with no information.

“Did they ever find O?” I asked carefully.

Carolyn looked at me, baffled. “Ju didn’t hear?”

“No, not really,” I answered.

“Marisol,
espera en la cocina,
” Carolyn said to her daughter.

The girl left the room and headed for the kitchen.

“The police came by here like a week ago because they found his car and it’s registered to my address.”

Tears started to gather in Carolyn’s eyes. She continued, “It was a robbery, they say, all of his seats was slashed and his trunk was open. They got his drugs and his money,” she whispered. “But they couldn’t find him.

“Then I got a call from a detective and he asked me all these questions about all the cars in my name. I told him Omar was my nephew. I raised him like my own, and when he asked me to put a car in my name as long as it’s not illegal, I say yes,” she spilled.

“Then like a day or two later the detective called back,” Carolyn began, with tears forming again. “And they told me his body was found on the side of the highway. They say a wild dog brought it up from the woods. A highway patrolman saw his remains hanging from the dog’s mouth.”

Carolyn started to cry a little.

“They put the gun in his mouth and blew the back of his brains out, then they dumped his body in the woods off the highway. The police say if they would have found his body a minute later the animals probably would have eaten it.”

“Did he have a funeral?” I asked.

Carolyn wiped her eyes and yelled, “Marisol!
Da me el papel de el frigorífico.

The girl brought her mother an obituary and returned to the kitchen.

“This is from the funeral. It was Saturday. They cremated him. His wife held a small memorial in Claymont,” she informed me.

“Wife?” I blurted.

Carolyn schooled me. “Ju know what Omar was into, right? Ju know how he lived. He had lots of girls. You think you were the only one, you crazy. That’s why he bought so many cars and nice things, to keep all of you quiet, ju know that.”

I just listened. She was right. I did know what O was into, just not as much as I thought I knew. I could have never guessed he was married.

“What about his house, can anyone get inside?” I asked, thinking about Tina’s advice.

“Which one?”

“The one near here,” I said.

“Oh, no, the police went there already and cleaned it out. It’s boarded up now. He didn’t have a stash there anyways,” she said, hipped to my thoughts.

“No, he kept his stash in a safety box in one of them banks downtown. Only his wife has access to that. And he only stashed money here for me and my daughter, nothing for his girlfriends,” she concluded.

“I been getting calls from his udder girlfriends in Philly, but they not nice like you. They curse me out for telling them this stuff, for telling them the truth. But they need to hear it. They need to know that he’s gone and he’s not coming back and they need to find somebody else to take care of them.”

I listened to everything Carolyn said. I took heed too. I had gotten closure, and now it was time for me to move on.

“Thank you so much,” I said as I was walking out of the door.

“Ju welcome,” Carolyn said. “Oh, here, ju can have this.” She handed me Omar’s obituary.

I took it and thanked her again. I got into my truck and drove off. I didn’t cry. I actually felt better. At least I knew O had had a funeral and he was at peace.

June

I
was in desperate need of a vacation when Tina called to invite me to Cancún with her, Derrek, and Terry. I accepted without hesitating, and flew to Los Angeles on a Tuesday morning. That afternoon, Tina and I did some shopping on Rodeo for the trip. Derrek had given Tina a credit card with a $20,000 limit. We spent it in two hours. That’s not surprising on Rodeo, where one item can cost as much as 20 Gs. We bought two pairs of sandals from Christian Louboutin and three from Louis Vuitton. We bought Versace and Dior bathing suits. We bought a pair of sunglasses for just about every outfit. Tina bought a $600 Anna Sui jacket just for the plane. It was refreshing shopping like that. It put me right where I needed to be emotionally.

Terry was already in Mexico on business, closing a deal on some investment properties in Puerto Vallarta. We were to meet him in Cancún on Wednesday. We expected it to be hot and steamy, but when we arrived we were surprised by how beautiful it was. We checked in at the Moon Palace, a gorgeous, prestigious resort. It was like a fairy tale driving through the big iron gates and having our names checked at the entrance. The marble floors and high ceilings were luxurious.


Hola,
welcome to the Moon Palace,” a short, stocky Mexican man said as he gave us a cup half filled with red juice.

This was star treatment, I thought. We got our keys and caught a golf cart over to our suites. We had presidential suites. They were huge like houses. They had hammocks on the balconies that overlooked the pretty, tranquil ocean. It was like heaven. Terry wasn’t scheduled to arrive from Puerto Vallarta until that evening, so I had my suite all to myself. Tina and Derrek said they were going to take a nap for a while and meet up with me when Terry arrived around seven. The first thing I did was get into the Jacuzzi. It was so relaxing, something I very much needed.

Knock, knock.

“Who is it?” I yelled, not feeling like getting out of the warm, bubbly water.

“Bags,” the little Mexican voice yelled.

“Come in, please,” I yelled back.

Two short Mexican men entered my suite with a cart filled with my luggage. They unloaded the cart and placed my bags neatly along an empty wall in the foyer. I instructed them to take twenty dollars from my pants that I had lying on the floor and sent them on their way.

At a quarter to six, I heard the knob to my suite door turning. I sat up in the king-sized bed and looked toward the door. It was Terry.

“Heeey,” he said with a huge happy-to-see-you smile on his face.

He was carrying a black briefcase, and a sports jacket was draped across his arm. I jumped up and ran over to him to greet him with a big hug.

“Long time no see,” I whispered in his ear as we hugged each other tight.

I was not at all happy about seeing him, but it was the least I could do for his treating me to such a beautiful vacation.

Terry dropped his jacket to the floor and proceeded to put his briefcase in the safe.

“So how was the flight?” he asked, walking away from me.

“It was good, quiet,” I replied.

“What do you think of this resort? Precious, huh?” he asked, looking at me with a grin.

“It’s amazing. I can’t thank you enough,” I said, sounding like a little girl.

“Nothing but the best for you,” he said.

I just smiled and returned to the bed. It had been a while since I’d last seen Terry—five months, to be exact—but nothing had changed. He was still old, still balding, still just plain unattractive.

“You know, I’m thinking about getting a house out here in Mexico. I’ve been down here for two weeks and I love it. And it’s not far from my brother at all. L.A. is right across the border.”

Terry had taken off his black loafers and walked over to the bed barefoot. He was wearing a white short-sleeved button-down-collar shirt, opened to reveal a white wife beater. He had on some black slacks, which he took off almost immediately.

“I missed you,” he said as he slid onto the bed, positioning his back against the headboard.

“I told Tina to bring you to my brother’s to stay for good,” he said, still smiling.

I just blushed. “I have a lot going on in Philly, I can’t just pack up and leave.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now. Who knows, you may change your mind about leaving Philly,” he said with a grin.

Terry got comfortable and motioned for me to suck his dick. I started stroking his manhood and pumping myself up to get into it. I licked the tip a little to tease him. Then he pushed my head down, forcing his dick into my mouth. He began to really get aroused. He started taking my clothes off slowly. I felt the bulge in my panties growing. I had to think about my old fling James to make that happen. The best sex I ever had was with him. Terry started moaning and groaning. He was a girl trapped in a man’s body, I swear.

“Come here, get on top,” Terry said as he came out of his boxers.

I lifted my head up and sat on my knees. I took off my panties and started stroking my dick. Terry turned over on his stomach. I put some spit on my hand and rubbed it in on my dick to make the entrance easy. I slid in. Terry immediately started moaning. I started pumping up and down, in and out. Terry was excited. I had to rub on his dick to keep mine hard. Eventually he sat up on his knees, and we were going at it doggy style. I was beating his dick rapidly and pounding him from the back. I felt him getting ready to explode and I knew if I didn’t get mine before he got his I would miss my chance of busting a nut, so I thought about James real hard and stroked Terry’s dick uncontrollably.

“Oooh!” Terry blurted out as he came all over my hand.

I followed right behind him and it felt good.

Terry was a real freak. He started licking his cum off my hand. The next thing I knew, he was hard again and wanted more. This time he was satisfied with me sticking a dildo up his butt until he came. Lucky thing, because it was no way I would have been able to get up again so soon.

The next day came quick. Tina called me early in the morning to go to the spa with her.

“This hot-stone massage is the bomb.” Tina squealed.

“I know, I needed this like crazy,” I said. “I wish we could have gotten a full-body.”

“Yeah, right. And take these towels from around our waists and let our dicks just hang out, huh?” Tina asked, not looking for an answer.

I frowned up my face at Tina and put my finger to my mouth, instructing her to shut up in front of the women who were massaging us. She laughed and reminded me that they didn’t speak or understand English.

“So, did Terry get plunged last night?” she asked with a devilish grin.

I rolled my eyes at her and ignored her sarcasm.

“Well, all I know is Derrek tore my back out something nice in that suite,” she bragged. “I’m surprised yall didn’t hear me.”

“We were too busy making our own noise.”

“Yeah, I heard you was packin’,” Tina teased me.

“Fuck you, Tina,” I told her.

“Anytime,” she said as she closed her eyes and smiled. She took a deep breath and said, “Isn’t this a long way from home?”

I knew what Tina meant, and she was not talking about miles.

“Damn sure is,” I agreed.

“I remember when I didn’t have shit. Not a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of,” Tina recalled.

“After those dealers killed my mom and them, and I had to live with my grandmom, I didn’t know what was going to happen with me. I just went buck-wild.

“Started skipping school and smoking weed,” she continued. “Then I got locked up for driving a stolen car. I was only thirteen. I was scared as shit. The judge told my grandmom it was up to her. She looked me in my face and said, ‘The minute you start acting up again, I’m turning you in. The first day you skip school, I’m calling the judge.’ I knew she wasn’t going to turn me in for real, though, ’cause she wasn’t tryna lose that check.

“I remember I left school early one day to go over this girl’s house. I was walking under the bridge by myself and this old head pulled up to me and asked was I working. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about so I just kept walking. I went to cross the street and he pulled up in front of me, blocking my path. He jumped out of that little red car and grabbed me. I remember fighting him, but he was big.”

I had heard this story a million times before, but it never stopped me from listening. Sometimes I thought Tina needed to tell her story in order to maintain her sanity. She’d been through a lot in her short life, which could be why she turned out like she did. Me, I had no excuses for being “confused,” as my mom called it. I had both of my parents until they divorced when I was eight. I went to church every Sunday faithfully. I wasn’t molested or raped. Growing up, I didn’t even know anybody who was gay, male or female. I had what people would call a normal life.

Tina went on, “I was a little boy. He was a grown man.” Then she began sniffling as if she was going to cry, but instead she wiped her eyes and smiled.

“But that’s what got me where I am today, living the life. Just think, if I never got raped I would have never been gay. I would have been on the other end of the stick. Bitches would have been taking my money.”

 

After our relaxing hours at the spa we had brunch on the beach. Afterward Tina and I did our daily exercise, and we all got dressed. Derrek and Terry rented motor scooters and took us into the city. We went to a theater and saw a play called
La Casa de Amor.
Ironically, it was about a Mexican madam who ran a popular and prosperous whorehouse. It was in Spanish, but the English translation was provided through a set of headphones given to audience members who requested them. We enjoyed it a lot. It reminded me of a soap opera.

Following the play, Derrek and Terry took us to a fine restaurant on the coast. It was a beautiful outdoor spot. The sun was setting on the horizon while we were being served our entrées, and suddenly but briefly Terry looked like a god. I felt so attracted to him. The setting was so romantic I couldn’t help but feel the way I did. We ate grilled lobster tails and Spanish rice. Terry had Chardonnay, but the rest of us drank Zinfandel. Violins and flutes played while we ate. Some of the couples were dancing. It was just beautiful.

That night the four of us went to a private party in Guatemala. It was far from Cancún so we got rid of the scooters and took a helicopter over. A luxury sedan was waiting for us upon our landing. When we arrived at the party, I could not believe my eyes. Tina acted like she was used to the whole thing, but you would have thought I was seeing earth for the first time. I was in awe. We pulled up in front of a huge mansion with stone walls like a castle. There were valet parkers outside relieving men and women of their Bentleys, Rolls-Royces, and Aston Martins. Limos and Lincolns were pulling up and dropping people off. It looked like something from a movie. We walked up a lighted concrete path that led us to tall wooden double doors.

Tina and I were probably the only black people there, but it’s what you wear that determines whether or not you fit in. And we definitely looked the part. Tina had on a black Donna Karan dress that was knee-length in the front but had a tail in the back that slightly brushed the floor. It had a slit down the front, exposing her cleavage, and her back was out. She was kind of chubby, but she wore the shit out of that dress. I wore a red Balenciaga silk-chiffon dress. It flared from my waist to my knees and was fitted at the top. It had rhinestone spaghetti straps. It was simple but very elegant. Both Tina and I were draped in diamonds, as were most of the women there.

“José!” Terry sang.

A thin, dark-complexioned Mexican man hugged Terry. They kissed each other on both cheeks.

“José, this is my beautiful date Celess, and my brother’s beautiful date Tina,” Terry introduced us.

We spoke and extended our hands. José kissed both our hands and then looked us over.

“Beautiful is an understatement, my friend. And to think I thought you guys were fags,” José said with a laugh.

Tina and I kept our composures, as did Terry and Derrek. We all just chuckled.

Terry patted José on the shoulder and said, “This guy is a billionaire and still chooses to do stand-up.”

We chuckled again. José then excused himself and disappeared into the crowd. Terry and Derrek led Tina and me over to a sitting area toward the back of the house. We walked past four big rooms, which were set up like a restaurant. There were waiters and waitresses serving the guests.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Terry asked.

“Oh, words cannot say,” I said with a smile stretching across my face.

We all sat down to have drinks and talk. I couldn’t lie: I was having the best time in my life. I actually felt like a million dollars. No Range Rovers, house payment, or shopping spree could compare to the treatment I was getting in Mexico.

“This house is huge, isn’t it?” Derrek said as he lit a cigarette.

“Yeah, but where is the living room, dining room, and kitchen?” I asked.

“On the lower level, where the main entrance is,” Terry jumped in.

“I thought those big wooden double doors were the main entrance,” I carried on.

BOOK: Secret Society
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