Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets (3 page)

     I was a seventeen-year-old, Las Vegas girl with a go-getter mindset. I knew at a very young age I deserved every-fucking-thing. Seriously. I stood at five feet even, with shoulder-length black hair, a butter cream complexion, and an attitude like I knew it all. I was one hundred and fifteen pounds, perky breast , and a round ass. My best attribute was my confidence. I was confident with myself which made everything appear ten times better.

I took a deep breath, thinking about how I ended up in this predicament. I squeezed my eyes tightly as the salty tears burned them. I couldn't think of one negative thing or a reason anyone would want to harm me or my family.

     “Mercedes,” I whispered, half sad, half angry.

      My sister Mercedes was the reason I was inside of the closet fearing for my life. She brought danger into our home. Kurt warned her if she were to ever try to leave him, he would kill her and us too.

        Mercedes was the oldest so my mother put a lot of pressure on her. Mercedes never had a childhood because she had to take care of Porsha and myself. When my mother was heavily into the streets, Mercedes was like a mother to us. She was the spitting image of my mother with a milk chocolate skin tone, Coke bottle shape, and thick, natural shoulder-length hair. She was the loudest to only be four-foot-eleven. She even talked and walked like my mother.

      Mercedes always hung around nothing but bad bitches and trill ass niggas. She never had beef with anyone. Everyone loved my sister. When she had Mason no one judged her. He was the cutest white-looking baby with sandy-colored, curly hair. He had so many play aunts and uncles.

     Orlando, her baby father from Arizona, was nothing but trouble just like all of the guys Mercedes dated, but he treated her good. A year after Mason was born he got locked up, having to serve eight years and leaving my sister to be a single mother. She was really trying to get her shit together, until she met Kurt.

     I could see why my sister liked Kurt so much. He was a well-known drug dealer throughout the Las Vegas streets, so money was never an issue. He resembled Chicago rapper Li’l Dirk. He wore expensive chains and dressed in designer clothes.  He met Mercedes through my mother when he was hustling for my mom. They were close at first until he started messing with Mercedes behind my mother’s back than she popped up pregnant a few months later. Kurt never knew because she ended the pregnancy.

    For some reason she felt like Orlando would come home from jail and stop fucking up. They would be a family and Kurt was something she could hold down for the time being. He took good care of Mason. He played the father role well but Kurt was abusive and she was good at hiding it.

       Kurt stood at a solid six-foot-two. He was big weight-wise, dark-skinned, and ugly—almost like a gorilla. I knew my sister had to be desperate to date someone his size. He was overprotective when it came down to Mercedes’ whereabouts. He didn’t like her hanging out too late and he didn’t like any of her girlfriends.

      He was the type of nigga that would pop up on her unexpectedly and unannounced. He would fight any dude that ever tried to holla at Mercedes or, for that matter, even look her way. He didn’t really like Mercedes spending time with us either.

      When she had gotten pregnant a second time but Kurt found out. He tried so hard to get her to move out of my mother’s house but she wasn’t having that. So Mercedes snuck off and got an abortion. She hated killing another innocent baby but she couldn’t be tied down with Kurt for the next eighteen years. Once she did that Kurt did a 360. Mercedes seemed happy fifty percent of the time but she never complained.

Mercedes loved Las Vegas. If it wasn't for Mason, she would always be out there. The nightlife was perfect for her, and she had the type of personality that was very addictive. She was lots of fun and Kurt hated that. He was very insecure and every time she had to go to work or just wanted to hang out he would trip. I guess she never took his threats seriously or thought they would be  the death of her, literally.

     Strangely, the room became very hot and smoky. That's when I heard the smoke alarm going off. Then a few seconds later, Kurt’s 250-pound body fell. He had shot himself. I sat there crying, holding my four-year-old nephew in my arms. I needed to get out of this house and quick.  Wrapping Mason up in a blanket, I crawled my way through the smoke-filled hallways. With my nephew in my arms I trembled down a few steps, landing beside Mercedes’ dead body.

      My lungs filled up with smoke, making it hard to breathe. I saw the front door but it seemed like it was too impossible to reach. I felt my body slipping away as I kept trying to fight my way through the hot flames but it was just too hot.

         I was afraid. I had never been this close to fire before. Water and fire were two things I had always been afraid of. That’s when I heard my nephew, who was now crying in my arms. I saw my sister laying dead. I didn't know what to do at the moment. Once I gained my composure I lifted Mason back up. I stood at the bottom of the stairs staring down at Mercedes’ fragile lifeless body resting on the hard wooden floor.

     I stood there for a moment thinking maybe I didn’t deserve to live this life. Everyone was dead and I somehow managed to still be alive.  Maybe I didn’t deserve to be protected. I wanted to die along with my mother and two sisters. Hearing Mason’s cries made me come to my senses.

     I looked up and the front door was now covered in hot flames. The living room was on fire. The dining room across from it was on fire. The entire upstairs was now on fire. What was I going to do without my mother? I didn’t have a clue on how to raise a baby by myself.

       I was supposed to be with my boyfriend Dior fucking him until the sun came up or out on Azul avenue with my girls December and Paige drinking and smoking pot. But there I was, collapsed on the kitchen floor with my crying nephew in my arms. I couldn't make it to the back door. The fire got closer and much hotter. I closed my eyes and everything else after that went black.

                                    
{2}
                

        I woke up to a man carrying me in his arms. I didn’t know how long I was unconscious but with the house still on fire I knew it had not been long. I was in so much pain and my body was burning. I was so thankful for this man who came and saved me.

     When he brought me into the house, he laid me on the couch and sat next to me. I started to panic when I didn’t see Mason. I tried to talk but my throat ached. I tried to stand up but my body was too sore.

“Baby girl, you are safe. The little boy is upstairs with my mother. She has him. He is safe. You guys have to call the police and let the ambulance take you to the nearest hospital,” he said as he tried to comfort me.

    “No, please. They will take him away. I will be eighteen in six months, on December 25,” I whispered as more tears rolled down my cheeks.

   “I won’t let them take you away but you have to go to a hospital.” The man stated as he started at me.

   “Oh, no…I can’t go. I can't let them take my nephew away! I am only seventeen. Please don’t let your mother bring him outside! Please don’t let child protective services take us!” I begged.

“Calm down sweetheart, my name is Black. What is your name and the little boy ?”

“My name is Tiffany and my nephew name is Mason. He's for years old.”

      Black was in his mother’s backyard cooking on the grill when he heard the gunshots. He was headed back inside when he smelled smoke and turned around when he heard a baby crying. He jumped over the fence and save us.

    “Who did this to you?” he asked.

    “My sister! My sister’s boyfriend!” I said to him.

    “Who is he?”

    “It doesn’t matter. He’s dead. He killed my mother and my two sisters, then set the house on fire before killing himself.”

   “Okay, baby girl, come with me.” He helped me up off the couch. 

    “Thank you so much! What is your name again?” I looked up to see the most beautiful man standing above me.

    “My name is Demetrius James but call me Black.” His deep voice sent chills down my spine. His smile was warming and I clung to him with my arms wrapped around him.  Black carried me in his strong muscular arms down the hallway that led to the kitchen where a small room with a teen size bed inside. He laid me down gently onto the bed.

    “Here is a clean shirt and pants,” Black said to me as he handed me a pink button down pajama shirt with white stripes and matching bottoms. I nervously pulled off my t-shirt and sweatpants, tossing them onto the hardwood floor.

   “Thank you Black for saving my life,” I whispered as tears filled my eyelids once again.

“You’re welcome, baby girl. Get some sleep. You need your rest. You had a long night,” he said as he pulled the covers back, allowing me to get inside.

    “Can you turn the TV on? I don't want to sleep in the dark,” I politely asked him.

    “Sure,” he answered as he made his way over to the nightstand to retrieve the remote that was sitting beside the small alarm clock. Automatically when he turned the TV on the breaking news was all over the screen. I sat upright in the middle of the bed, giving the news reporter my undivided attention.

“
Acting Clark County Detective Carolyn A. Riccardo announced tonight that a fire took place at 950 Seven Hills Drive following the murders of Josette McKinsey, 39; and her daughters, Porsha McKinsey, 19; and Mercedes McKinsey 21, all of Henderson.

On June 5, 2011 Kurt Capers went to Mercedes McKinsey’s Seven Hills Drive  home in Henderson to reconcile with her, which resulted in a physical altercation between the two. It has been reported that the couple suffered numerous domestic violence cases before.. Capers used a 9 mm handgun to kill the victims and then set the house on fire, according to Deputy Chief Assistant Prosecutor Ronald Muhammad.”

“Tiffany Nicole  McKinsey, Josette McKinsey’s 17-year-old daughter, according to an anonymous   source, She survived the ordeal by hiding in a closet. She saved her 4-year-old nephew by grabbing him and running from the burning house. Police are still trying to locate the survived victim. Kurt Capers, was very dangerous man and ruthlessly snuffed out the lives of three innocent people and then torched the house in an attempt to cover up his crime by taking his own life. This is a senseless and brutal crime and I pray the family gets justice and peace
,” the news anchor stated before the news returned back to its regular programing.

“I am sorry this happened to you. I think it's best we keep the TV off for a while,” Black said before walking out of the room.

       Losing my mother and my sisters all in one night was the worst thing that could have happened to me. If it wasn’t for Black stopping by to see his mother that night, I wouldn’t have been alive. My nephew wouldn’t have survived. We both would have died in that fire and for that I owed him my life in return.

      As promised, my nephew was safe. He didn’t suffer any burns; just a little smoke in his lungs. Since Black’s mother Donna was a retired nurse she was able to nurse Mason back to health but he would have asthma.

      For the next few days after my family died, I refused to come out of my room at Black’s mother’s house. The pain was almost unbearable. I was full of rage. All of the memories we built and our pictures were forever gone. I was angry because Kurt killed my family and at the fact I now had to take care of myself and Mason alone.  

   With everything that happened I couldn’t go back to school. Instead Black went down to the school and picked up my diploma. The only ones who knew where I was staying were my girls Paige and December. All hopes for moving to Cali and attending UCLA in the fall went out the window.

     I couldn't believe my life changed for the worst. Every night I had nightmares about that night. I kept hearing Kurt screaming at my sister and then setting the house on fire. I would wake up drenched in sweat.  I became paranoid and very afraid of everything.

      Every time someone knocked on the front door I would get scared. I would think it was the police, or child protective services coming to take us away.  I couldn’t risk losing someone else that I loved.

      Immediately, I wanted love and affection. I was tired of the crying game. The tears weren’t going to bring my mother and my sisters back. I missed Dior and I wanted Dior there by my side to make my days that turned into nights feel safe. I needed him to take away the hurt and pain.

      I was heartbroken to the core. While I was grieving the loss of my mother and sisters, somehow I began to notice Black. When Black came around I felt like I had something to look forward to. Besides, he was there for me every step of the way helping me heal.

         Black owned the hottest nightclub in downtown Las Vegas. Black Diamonds was upscale and lavish. Only celebrities partied there. Black Diamonds catered to the hood celebrities too but we will get back to that later. Black used to hustle in the streets of Las Vegas and Henderson. He was born and raised in Jersey City, New Jersey. Once he reached a few millions he moved out here. He was twenty-five years old when he retired from the drug game.

    When you’re in those streets, they own you and you have to give up something in order to walk away.