Abnormal Lives (33 page)

Simone sat on the sofa where she had fallen to sleep the night before. Her eyes were swollen and blood red. It was three o'clock in the afternoon and the phone had been ringing off and on since six o'clock that morning. Some of the numbers on the caller ID she did not recognize; the ones she did were Jewel, Crystal, and Eugene. Jewel was not even Stefan's friend; Stefan and Crystal had not talked to each other in months. She hoped Eugene did not miss Stefan now; he should have seen him more than once a week. She didn't have one nice thing to say to any of them. She picked up the phone and slammed it down when they called. Unless they could conjure up some spell and bring Stefan back to life, to hell with them.

Simone thought back to her mother's words earlier that summer, about how Stefan was going to die behind what he had done to spite her. She snatched the phone off of the base and called her mother.

“Hello,” Tessa said, answering the phone on the first ring.

“I know you had something to do with the shit that happened to Stefan,” Simone snapped.

“Who the fuck is this?”

Simone knew her mother realized who she was and why she had called. She'd answered the phone too quickly not to know. Simone screamed into the phone. “Oh, bitch, you know who the fuck this is!”

“Look, Simone, you don't have to talk to me like that,” Tessa said. “I've been trying to get my life together—”

“Well, it's about to come to an end,” Simone spat.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

“How the hell you gonna call me out the blue and threaten me?”

“Don't play stupid with me,” Simone said. “I know what you did to Stefan.”

“What are you talking about?” Tessa asked. “I ain't seen Stefan since who knows when and haven't talked to either of you for months now.”

“Remember that bullshit you said about how Stefan spited you and how he was gonna die behind it?”

“Look, I know what happened to Stefan,” Tessa said. “And I meant to call you this morning to say I was sorry to hear about it, but I didn't do anything to that boy.”

“It seems funny to me that you said that shit and now he's dead.”

“What seems funny to me is, as many people as he's fucked over, he's just now being put to sleep,” Tessa said. “Seems like somebody would've done that shit way before now.”

“Bitch, fuck you,” Simone spat. “That's why I hate your ass.”

“Don't be mad at me,” Tessa said. “You know what he was and how he was; grow up.”

“I'll tell you what I do know.”

“What's that?” Tessa asked.

“That you're about to be keeping him company.”

Simone slammed down the phone. Snot and tears ran down her face.
If it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna make sure that bitch leaves this world in an untimely fashion.
She could use some of the money she was getting from Wayne to hire someone to rid the world of her mother.
Damn, the money.
With all that had happened, she'd forgotten to call Wayne and set up another time to pick up her money. She hoped that he had not changed his mind. If he had, oh well, she would sell it to the highest bidder. Hell, she might sell it even if he gave her the money. She'd never gotten a break so she damn sure wasn't about to give somebody else one.

Wayne sat back in his lounge chair in front of the pool at his Florida home where his wife and children resided. He watched his children splash water and take turns dunking each other back and forth in the pool. He looked over at the house, thinking of his wife in the kitchen preparing dinner. He had not felt that kind of happiness in years and he knew the happiness he felt being there was mutual. He wanted to be a family again. He was tired of using loose women to entertain himself. He had been with more women than most men will during their lifetimes, all different creeds and nationalities, all beautiful in their own way. But they all had one thing in common; they would do unimaginable things to get his money and that was only a good thing when it came to sex.

Simone made him realize that it was time to stop playing around. Although he was able to shut her up permanently, it had been a close call; one that took years off of his life. It was time for him to settle down. Nicole had stood by him through everything; if not as a wife, as a friend. She was the type of woman that he wanted in his life. Simone had made him realize that. He had grown tired of playing games with scandalous women. He planned to make love to his wife that night and afterward, he would tell her that he wanted to reconcile.

Wayne's cell phone rang and he looked down at the caller ID.
What the fuck?
Why was he getting a call from Simone's house? She was supposed to be dead. His guy had assured him that she was. There was no way she could be calling him.
My conscience must be fucking with me
, he thought. Wayne let the call go to voice mail. A few minutes later his phone beeped, alerting him of a new voice message. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath
to brace himself as he lifted the phone to his ear to listen to the message.

“Yeah, it's me,” Simone's voice echoed. “Just because I wasn't able to make it last night, don't get to thinking I don't want my money. You need to have it to me by tomorrow morning. If not, this DVD is as good as the media's and everyone will know how much fun you had getting it on with my cousin.”

Wayne became dizzy and every hair on his body was erect. He couldn't believe it; it was her. His guy had never lied to him before. Wayne needed further confirmation. He dialed Simone's number and waited to see who picked up.

“Hello,” Simone answered.

Wayne hung up the phone and called his guy.

He answered after a few rings. “Damn, Wayne, more work already? What you been into these days?”

“I thought you said you handled that for me.”

“And I did.”

“That's odd 'cause she just finished calling me.”

“Are you saying I'm a liar?”

“Naw, I'm saying the bitch still has air in her lungs.”

“Man, look, I went to the house. She was driving the car you described. It had the same license plate and everything. And she fit the description.”

“Are you sure it was a woman?”

“What do you mean, am I sure it was a woman? It had on a dress.” The guy paused for a moment to think; if it was a man, that would explain why he had given him so much trouble. “Man, what type of shit you into?”

“Just answer the question.”

“All I can tell you is my work is done.”

“Naw, man, you need to fix this or give me my money back.”

“All I'm going to say is this, I don't shit in the same place twice, and I damn sure don't hand out refunds.”

“This is bullshit.”

“It's no longer up for discussion, but call me if you have some work for me in the future.”

Wayne threw his phone on the ground and lay back in his lounge chair. He covered his face with his hands and screamed. His kids jumped out of the pool and approached him.

“What's the matter, Daddy?” they asked.

Wayne didn't answer; he continued to lie there with his hands over his face, trembling. There was no need to answer them. They would soon find out what had caused his anxiety and then they would be deaf to his words, forget his face, and deny he was their father. He could restore his reputation from the accusations of assault and rape. It was Simone's word against his. People would side with him, not because they knew his character, but because they liked what they saw of him on TV. But from this, there was no redemption. His fans would not forgive him for portraying himself to be an alpha male and then participating in a homosexual act. They would deny him his manhood. He was ruined.

Simone gritted her teeth.
Damn, I wish she'd stop calling.
Tessa was calling back for the tenth time. Simone did not want to miss Wayne's call due to her mother's compulsive behavior.

Simone picked up the phone. “What!” she shouted.

“Don't do nothing stupid, hear.”

“Whatever,” Simone said. “Stop ringing my damn phone.”

Paris made his way downstairs as Simone hung up the phone. “Simone, I need to talk to you.”

Simone shook her head. “I don't feel like it right now; maybe later.”

“It can't wait 'til later.”

“What is it then?”

Paris took a deep breath. “Did you tell Jana where—” Paris was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Simone rolled her eyes. “I swear, this better not be either one of those dumb asses that kept calling this morning.”

Simone walked over to the window and looked through the blinds. Detective Warner stood on the front porch with a black female officer by his side.

“Oh, it's the detective from last night,” Simone said. “Maybe he came to tell me that I can get my car back.”

Simone opened the door. “Yes,” she said, looking at the female officer's badge that read “Evans.”

“You're Simone Simmons, right?” Detective Warner asked.

Simone nodded. “Yeah, that's me.”

“Good,” Officer Evans said, grabbing Simone by her arm. “You're under arrest.”

Simone snatched away and ran toward the kitchen.

Officer Evans pinned Simone down and handcuffed her. “Evading the police is a felony.”

“You would think being charged with murder would be enough for her,” Detective Warner said.

“Murder,” Simone bellowed. “But I didn't kill anybody.”

Officer Evans grabbed Simone's arm to escort her to the police car. Simone bent her knees and collapsed onto the floor.

“Get up!” Officer Evans shouted.

Simone pressed herself against the floor.

Detective Warner laughed. “Well then, Evans, I guess we'll have to drag her.”

“Hold on!” Paris exclaimed, as he rushed to help Simone. “You can't do that!”

Detective Warner placed his hand on the gun strapped to his left side. “I can do anything I want to, boy.” Detective Warner looked at Paris and smirked. “Or should I say girl?”

Paris's skin became hot. His blood boiled. He wanted to beat Detective Warner. He wanted to smack him and watch the blubber on his big pink face tremble. He wanted to tell him that he hated his type; scared-ass criminals who hid behind the badge of the law and did their dirty work. But Detective Warner's eyes warned that he was a miserable, insecure, trigger-happy bastard and Paris valued his life.

Detective Warner and Officer Evans dragged Simone out of the house.

“Come get me, Paris!” Simone yelled. “Look under my mattress and get some money so you can bond me out!”

Paris ran upstairs and lifted up Simone's mattress. A stack of money lay in the center of the box spring, held together by a rubber band. Beside the money lay Paris's earrings and bracelet. Paris picked up the bracelet to make sure that it was his. He looked for his name engraved on the clasp and, sure enough, it was there.

That bitch
, he thought. How could she steal his jewelry? He had asked her if she'd seen his jewelry in Michael's room and she'd looked him in his face and said “no.” Maybe he was foolish to think better of her. Maybe he was stupid to take their friendship so seriously. Both of them were thieves but never once had he stolen from her. But she'd seized the opportunity when she saw something she wanted. Something she could've bought herself; the stack of money under her mattress was proof that she was not hard up for cash. Maybe she didn't think of him in the same way that he thought of her; as a friend.

Paris picked up the DVD underneath the stack of money that had “jackpot” written on it in big bold letters. Paris wondered why she had given the DVD such a name. He put the DVD inside Simone's DVD player and pressed
PLAY
. Paris grinned as he watched Stefan get it on with Wayne.

Well, he sure got the chance to live out one of my fantasies before he left this world,
Paris thought. Simone had given the DVD the proper name. Paris was sure he could get a lot of money for it. If Simone thought it was okay to steal from him, he had no problem returning the favor.