Read The Stalker Chronicles Online

Authors: Electa Rome Parks

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Urban Life, #African American

The Stalker Chronicles (9 page)

BOOK: The Stalker Chronicles
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Chapter 17
Dre'
“Game shot,” Xavier screamed as he extended his arm, expertly arched his right wrist, sent the basketball, which was suspended in air for a few seconds, and then hit nothing but net. “Booyah!” he exclaimed, doing a mini dance around the humid gym, causing a few people to look in our direction with amusement.
“Luck,” I ventured, taking a seat on the third step up from the floor in the bleachers. I needed a few minutes to catch my breath; I wasn't working out like I should, and it was showing.
“Bullshit, man,” Xavier said, taking a seat nearby and reaching for his black gym bag to retrieve bottled water. “That was known as skills. Serious skills, son. Something you wouldn't know if it bit you in the ass.”
“You are making a lot of noise for a man who is up by only one game.”
“Now, now, don't hate. I have to admit you gave me a run for my money. You almost had me, but everybody knows almost doesn't count,” Xavier said.
Xavier took a big gulp of water and reclined against the back of the bleachers, looking at the people who milled around, wiping sweat from his face and neck.
I walked a couple of steps up, grabbed my bag, which contained water and a white towel. I proceeded to wipe sweat away and then quenched my thirst as well.
We were silent as we watched the action at the lower end of the court.
“Man, thanks again for coming out to speak with the teams today,” I said.
“Not a problem. It was my pleasure. You know I love doing events like this, especially in this neighborhood. This is where you and I grew up. This place made us the men we are today.”
“Do you ever think about all the ones we lost along the way?”
“Some didn't even live to see twenty-one, others are in prison, and some just let the streets beat them down, and now they are strung out on drugs or worse.”
“Poverty and lack of hope are the two bitches of the hood.”
“There are those like us who made the decision to get out, do better, become something, and give back,” Xavier said.
“Those are the ones I want to reach. The ones who realize there is a better life outside this neighborhood.”
“And you will. One kid at a time.”
Xavier had spent most of the morning talking with various boys' basketball teams, with boys between the ages of nine and eighteen. Now, most had left for a huge tournament on the other side of town. I volunteered at least once a month at the recreation center that we used to hang out at as young boys, back in the day. Back then, this was my home away from home. Now this was my way of giving back, along with generous donations. Xavier and I had finished up a few one-on-one games. We were tied until that last game shifted the score in Xavier's favor.
“Man, the way they were holding on to your every word, you would've thought we had a major league player up in this joint.” I laughed and took another swig of water and pressed the plastic bottle against my forehead.
“Don't hate,” Xavier said, finishing up the last drops of his bottled water.
“I'm not. Man, you had me all amped up and excited, had me wanting to be a damn writer.”
“Man, you stupid. Stupid, I tell you.”
“No, seriously, I believe these kids can only aspire to what they see. Unfortunately, you know as well as I do that most of them see drug dealers, pimps, hustlers, and wannabe rappers as their idols on a daily basis. That's what they know. I figure if I can bring in people from different professions, they can see that they can become and be anything they want to. After all, we have a black man in the White House.”
“Speak it.”
“I think a few of the boys are interested in starting an investment firm,” I said with a real sense of pride in my voice.
“For real?”
“I'm serious. You know I talk to them all the time about finances and how it's never too early to start investing money and obtaining wealth. Who knows? Maybe you were talking to future stockbrokers or even writers.”
“That's cool. I'm proud of the difference you are making in these boys' lives, and I am seriously thinking about joining One Hundred Black Men of America with you,” Xavier said.
“Me too, man. I can't explain the feeling I feel when I know I've reached one of them. You can almost see the lightbulb go off in their heads. One Hundred Black Men is a great organization that gives back to the community with solid results.”
“Back in the day, who would have thought we'd be here—instilling some knowledge and wisdom?”
We laughed.
“Of course, there are the knuckleheads who won't listen. You know, the wannabe thugs and gangbangers. Not a word you said reached them, and it doesn't matter how much I talk with them. Some are simply made out of a bad cloth. They don't get it and never will,” I said.
“Yeah, and they'll wind up in prison or dead by age twenty-one. A lost generation of young men is what we are seeing today, and that's a damn shame.”
“But mostly, these are good kids growing up in difficult surroundings and circumstances. They can't control where they are born or what they are born into, but we know it doesn't matter where you're from but where you're going.”
“I feel you, because there but for the grace of God go us,” Xavier said.
“You ready for another round?” I asked.
“You ready to get that ass spanked again?”
“Who's going to do it?” I asked, standing up.
“Please, earlier I was just warming up. You ain't seen nothing yet.” Xavier walked over, picked up the nearest basketball, and started shooting. Some shots he made; others bounced off the wall or the rim of the basketball net. “Dre', you will never guess who I ran into yesterday.”
“Who?” I asked, grabbing the ball and shooting a few times.
“Guess.”
“Man, I don't know. Pilar?”
“Oh, you got jokes today.”
“What? You didn't want to see Pilar? Afraid she would kidnap you and carve her name on your chest with a blade?”
“Man, that shit is not funny.”
“I'm not laughing. You were the one chained to a hotel bed while she whipped your ass with a mini whip. That's not cool. That's demented.”
I looked at Xavier and tried to maintain a straight face. He stared back, silently daring me to start laughing.
“I arrived at your hotel to rescue your ass, thinking I'm going to have to fight myself out of a bad situation, and there you are, wrapped up in a sheet, looking like black Jesus. And then I see the whelp marks where old girl fucked you up like Kunta Kinte. No, that shit is not funny.” I then proceeded to laugh so hard, my stomach hurt.
“Fuck you, man,” Xavier said.
When I finally recovered, I said, “Xavier, I can laugh at it now because you survived. You survived stronger and wiser.”
“Very true.”
We pumped fists, then continued to take turns shooting back and forth.
“I ran into Kendall and her new husband.”
That made me pause. “I bet that shit was awkward as hell. Damn, it couldn't have been me.”
“Tell me about it,” Xavier said.
“So what's up? What did she say? Better question, what did
you
say?”
“Once I recovered from the shock of seeing her standing there, looking beautiful, I wasn't sure what to say.”
I laughed. “Mr. Writer was at a loss for words. That's a first.”
“I thought she was a figment of my imagination. Man, she took my breath away, and when she leaned in to hug me, I almost forgot old dude was standing there.”
“Hugs? I'm surprised she didn't slap the spit out of your mouth.”
“To be honest, me, too. I still feel guilty over how our relationship ended, and I still think of her at times.”
“I bet you do. A man always wants what he can't have, and now that another man is stroking that, well, I'm sure it is killing you to think about what you could have had.”
“I don't need you to attempt to read my feelings like some amateur psychologist.”
“Call it what you must, but you know it was killing you to see her with mister,” I said as I threw the ball at him.
“Dude was staring me down, giving me the once-over.”
“Damn.”
“Tried to downplay my profession and give me the virtues of a surgeon.”
“Damn,” I said, biting my balled-up fist. “Ouch.”
“Yeah, he was an arrogant son of a bitch. He definitely seemed like the controlling type who would have Kendall on lockdown.”
“Maybe, but that's not your concern anymore.”
“I realize that, but you don't know how badly I wanted to kick his pompous ass.”
“Man, who are you talking to? The public gets to see the articulate, poised, well-spoken author. I know the side that can get downright grimy and dirty.”
“Damn straight.”
“How did this little meeting end?”
“I kept my cool and tried to persuade Kendall to meet me for lunch.”
“In front of her husband?”
“No, fool. He had walked off by then to answer a phone call.”
“What's the point of lunch? It's a done deal, man. Just learn to lie in the bed you made.”
“Like I said, I feel guilty. It's almost like I need to apologize and right my wrongs from the past before I can move forward.”
“I feel you. However, I honestly don't know if you'll ever get that opportunity with Kendall. I always warned you about fucking around on that sweet thing.”
“You did, but my other head spoke louder while Pilar was whispering in my ear.”
“My advice is to leave that happily married woman alone and move on with your life. That's real talk. Anything other than that is asking for trouble.”
“Too late. Kendall looked me up on Facebook, e-mailed my in-box, and we are meeting for lunch next week.”
“Damn! Playa, playa!”
“No, it's not even like that. I just want to make sure she's happy, apologize, and leave on a cordial note.”
“Sure, you keep telling yourself that, because I know the deal. I know you. Don't get bit in the ass again, Xavier.”
Chapter 18
Pilar
Afterward, after sexing with Michael, I always felt safe and sound, in a real good place. That was how I felt now, in a good, safe place. That was something I had always placed a huge premium on as an adult. No one could hurt or punish me, or make me do vile, disgusting acts that I didn't want to. Those days were long gone—forever.
Mama was dead, hopefully rotting in hell for all eternity, but sometimes I heard her in my head, and lately, it was more and more. She came when I wanted to sleep or when I was focusing on a task at hand. Mama always came with the same relentless chatter. It consumed my head to capacity, and I would feel as if it would burst.
That man doesn't want you except for one thing. He doesn't love you. How could he? Look at yourself. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Why don't you do something to that damn hair?
You are one ugly creature. No one would ever guess I gave birth to you. How many pounds have you gained?
I know I taught you better. You always get paid. Nothing in life is free. Your pussy is as good as an American Express black card. How could you let him climb on top of you and stick his dick inside you without him showing you the money? You are disgusting. All that sweating and moaning and groaning. You sounded like barnyard animals.
You are damaged goods, girl. Don't any normal, decent man want you.
She would do that high-pitched cackle I always hated. I would place my hands over my ears in an attempt to block out her insistent chatter, or hit my forehead over and over with my fist until she shut the hell up.
 
 
“Wow, that was good,” Michael stated, already beginning to slip into a semi-after-sex mode.
I smiled and snuggled closer, resting my head on his chest. Michael was light skinned, athletically built, intelligent, just the type of man women wanted to be with.
“You are always so intense when we have sex,” he said, smoothing down my hair and sighing. “That's what I love about you.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. That and how mysterious you are.”
“I'm not mysterious, Michael,” I stated, relaxing to his touch. If I were a cat, I would have purred.
“Yes, you are, Pilar. Hell, you know everything there is to know about me, and I know very little about you except for the basics.”
“You know the most important things,” I said, reaching for his semi-erect dick.
“That I do.” He laughed, rolling back on top of me and pinning my hands above my head.
Bitch, you need to have him pay you if you are going to constantly let him go up inside you
, Mama screamed.
He's a greedy little bastard.
I frantically shook my head to clear my thoughts.
“What's wrong, baby? Michael asked, spreading my legs farther apart with his knees. ”Are you still having those headaches you mentioned?”
“No, I'm fine. I'm just thinking about how good we are together. Don't you think?”
He grunted as he slowly entered me again. He slid in easily and expertly; I had lost count of how many times we had gone at it.
“Michael? Did you hear me?” I asked.
“Hmmm. Yeah, baby. Whatever you say. Damn, you have some good stuff,” he grunted.
“Do you think they suspect anything at work?”
“Like what?”
“That we are seeing each other?”
By now, he was slowly thrusting in and out of me, with his large hands wrapped around my neck.
“Shhh. Move with me.”
“Answer my question,” I demanded.
“No, we are discreet. They don't know I'm banging you every chance I get.” He laughed.
I frowned. “I hope I'm more than that to you. I don't want to be your jump-off.”
“Baby, shhh. You're going to make me lose this nut that's coming.”
I looked up at him and tried my best to get out from underneath him. Michael, in turn, struggled to prevent my escape. Nothing was going to stop him from nutting.
“Shit, Pilar. Stop acting so crazy all the damn time. Of course I care for you, or I wouldn't spend so much time with you. You even have a key to my home, and I don't randomly give those out.”
“You care for me, but do you love me?”
“Baby, right now all I can offer is that I care for you.”
I pondered his response for a few seconds. “Do you think you could love me down the line?”
Michael pinched the tip of my nose and appeared to be deep in thought. “I think so. You are so damn adorable, except for when you are asking too many damn questions.”
I smiled.
He smiled. “Now, where were we? Oh yeah, I was getting lost in your good loving,” he stated, nuzzling into my neck and sending quivers up and down my arms.
“Are you seeing Linda, the entertainment reporter from work?” I asked out of the clear blue.
He froze for a brief second. No one else would have caught it, but I did.
“Well, are you?”
“Why on earth would you ask me that?”
“I've heard rumors.” I didn't mention that I had seen her with my own eyes entering his home on more than one occasion.
“Well, there you go. Since when do you listen to office rumors? Writers love to fabricate the smallest truth.”
“I hope you aren't lying, Michael, because I couldn't handle a lie. I have to be your one and only. That's the only way we can be together. If I'm not, then ...”
With that, Michael bit down on my exposed right nipple. “I hear you loud and clear. You have nothing to worry your pretty little head about. Now, can we please finish what we started before you give me blue balls?”
“Sure, on one condition,” I said seriously, with a straight face.
“What's that?” he asked curiously.
“I want you to fuck me hard, because I need to feel every inch of you.”
“I think I can handle that request.”
Michael did just that; he gave all of himself. He made me feel every delicious inch; I couldn't tell where he began and I left off, because he was so deep inside.
Michael wrapped his hands around my neck again and squeezed, lightly at first. Then he applied more pressure. Just as my oxygen level was being cut off, I felt a tremendous orgasm coming on. Michael sensed it, too, because his eyes rolled back in his head and I could tell he was gone—to another level of ecstasy.
He squeezed again, and I came. I came so hard, it scared me. Rivers flowed. Lightning flashed. Right before I joined Michael and saw ecstasy, I whispered, “I love you, Xavier.”
Michael was so far gone that he didn't hear me or perhaps didn't even care.
BOOK: The Stalker Chronicles
10.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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