Homeless (17 page)

“I was hoping you'd say that.” Trina was trying to sound sexy. Walking toward Lonnie, she let the towel fall right before approaching him, and then pulled him in for a hug. “Let me show you how much your friendship means to me. How much I appreciate you looking out for me,” she whispered in his ear, licking it, then nuzzling up to him.

With the X-pill in his system, Lonnie was ready to go wild with her body. Grabbing her by the hips, he then used his hands to roam all over her curves. Using the moves he'd picked up from watching the porno, Lonnie was getting a positive response from Trina as she moaned and yelled out his name.

Trina wasn't a virgin in the sheets. She'd been cuddling up to niggas on a regular basis if the dollar amount was right. She wasn't a prostitute or a whore by any description of the word, but a hustler to make sure she and her dad at least ate. Only realizing she had herself to count on, fucking Lonnie was her way of making sure she could come back night after night.

“I told you it ain't no thang, but I'm willing to see what you workin' with,” Lonnie remixed a line he'd heard Kevin run on a girl at one of his last parties. With the X-pill in his blood, unlike how he was with Megan, Lonnie's manhood was at attention and poking Trina in the belly button. His reaction was different than it was the other day when he hid his erection. Lonnie was standing firm, cocky, and proud. “You see what tip he's on,” he said, referring to his dick. Taking Trina's hand, he placed it on top of him and moved his hand until she started jacking him. Lonnie then slid his finger inside of her wetness, going crazy over the feeling of her juiciness. He was about to cum just from them basically feeling on each other.

All the tension Trina was carrying around about her dad melted as she creamed on Lonnie's finger. For the first time in her young life, she actually felt a connection with a man other than her father. Damn near jumping in Lonnie's arms when she felt her body getting ready to erupt, Trina screamed his name as loud as she could and without control.

Out of breath, she leaned against the boy who'd just fingered her into an orgasm and tried gaining her composure. She was spent, but definitely ready to see what Lonnie's stroke game was about. Getting ready to open her mouth and ask, her phone rang and killed the whole mood.

“Hold on a second; it could be my dad,” Trina said, breaking away from him.

Watching her ass jiggle as she ran across the room, Lonnie wanted to run behind her and tackle her onto the couch. Never before had he wanted a woman so bad.

“What? Oh my God! I'll be there in a second,” Trina shouted out after listening to the caller. Dropping her phone in an absolute panic, she ran around Lonnie's apartment frantically. “My dad, Lonnie, oh my God, I'm so scared.” Trina tried gaining her composure while remembering where her clothes were at. “That was the nurse. They just had shift change, and she told me to come back. She said my dad's not taking to the medication and is somehow getting worse. Lonnie, he ain't walk up in that motherfucker sick for real, and now he's about to die. Oh my God,” she was screaming, crying, and hyperventilating.

The voices in Lonnie's head returned. Trina talking about her father's hospital experience sent him straight back into the past about his mom. Now in a dark place, Lonnie didn't care about busting a nut in Trina, but swallowing some more pills.

Leaving her in the middle of his living room with a look of hurt and question written all over her face, he went into his bedroom and slammed the door uncaringly. Lonnie was in search of where he'd hidden the pills. Finding the bag and swallowing two without paying attention to what they were, he fell on the bed angry.

Trina, on the other side of the door, felt crushed by Lonnie's display of insensitivity. She felt that he should've offered some encouraging words, even if he didn't believe in them or know any of the details. She was disappointed that he hadn't rushed to hold and caress her tenderly till she felt better, especially since he'd just been groping her body without restraint.

She stood frozen in disbelief and pain, not able to break her stare from the door. She thought the doorknob would twist and Lonnie would walk out, or even that she'd hear his voice explain why he'd dismissed her. Sadly, she was let down and left more confused than ever. Being that he'd lost a mother and claimed to have been a good guy, Trina felt bamboozled.

She was tempted to knock at the door herself or bust in and demand answers. Had the nurse not called saying her father's condition had worsened, that would've been her plan, and she wouldn't have hesitated for not even a second. However, as always, she put her father first, because doing anything else would've left her with a guilty conscience.

Trina rushed into the bathroom where her clothes were and quickly put them all back on. She didn't care about having a come-sticky coochie or even built-up sweat from the heavy make out session she'd just had with Lonnie. All she wanted to do was be out of his presence and apartment. She didn't know what his problem was and why'd he'd acted like an asshole out of nowhere; but she was mad as hell that he had.

Moving through the apartment swiftly, but while watching over her shoulder just in case Lonnie opened his bedroom door, a homeless Trina took something to eat out of the fridge and stuffed it into her backpack for later. She was starving and had already gotten put out of the hospital for eating her father's food, and she wasn't trying to go down that path again. Feeling her stomach churn, anxiety started building up about what the future held for her. The one thing she hoped would one day change was being homeless. It was obvious to her she wouldn't be on Lonnie's couch for the night. Because of that, she hoped she at least got to stay at the hospital until the sun rose. It was already too late for her to find a bed at any shelter within the city.

Getting ready to go in Lonnie's hoodie pocket for some money or some change, she heard Lonnie opening his bedroom door. Not wanting him to see her panic and figure out what she'd been doing, Trina quickly darted out of his front door and down the stairwell, almost tripping over her feet. One second longer to snoop and steal, Trina would've found the box cutter he sliced women's tongues out with. She also missed the chance to hear Lonnie apologize and tell her why he reacted the way he did.

Staying completely still in one spot for most of the night, he didn't make any loud sounds someone on the outside could hear. After Trina stormed out pissed at him, he shut his apartment down the way it would've been had she not needed a place to crash. The television stayed off because he was afraid to see a picture of himself pop up underneath the large bold word
“Wanted.”
The more Lonnie prayed, the more he swore he heard God tell him to shut up and suck it up. Left with his thoughts and the voices in his head, he now heard the last woman and her baby crying out for him to stop . . . and that's what drove him insane.

All the unmonitored dosages of pills Lonnie had been popping into his mouth like candy over the last few days had absorbed into his bloodstream in the worst possible way. The Xanax and Abilify pills he'd nicknamed the “Happy Pills” cheered his mood up from whatever depressive state he found himself sunken into. They also helped Lonnie sort out the voices. Mixing Tylenols, Motrins, and sometimes Snapbacks, Lonnie never thought twice about the daily dances he took with death. In his mind, he was soothing his misery.

Not only had his mind split into two totally different personalities, his irresponsible consumption had wrecked his immune system as well. Constantly high off drugs and not consuming much food, he wasn't even aware of his digestive system slowing down. Lonnie didn't notice the vices were the reason he seemed to be functioning normally. His body had gotten accustomed to getting fed a liquor diet of either beer or something heavy hitting if he had some money. The moment he stops, will be the moment he drops.

The X-pill and Adderall kept him energized and feeling euphoric; yet, the emotionally damaging Ecstasy pill was actually making his already-flawed mental condition worse. Whereas it made him feel good for a short amount of time, maybe even for a few hours, the long-term effects of overusing it is part of the reason why Lonnie kept having psychotic episodes.

Completely addicted and oblivious, he continued to feed himself the pills like they were helping him cope with life. The truth of the matter was that Lonnie was self-destructing and ruined his own life. Before giving into temptation from Kevin, the counted-out teen had risen. Yet now, he'd fallen to the wayside and was barely even a statistic. Not only was the world fighting against Lonnie, at least as it seemed to him, but now his body was attacking him from the inside as well. Similar to the cancer that killed his beloved mother, his pill habit was killing him.

* * *

Forty-eight hours had passed, and Lonnie was fresh out of pills and liquor. There were so many voices in his head each second of the day that he'd tried drugging himself into a coma so they'd stop. They kept telling him to kill again. They kept encouraging him to go out into the night with his box cutter and evil intent. Lonnie's hands were covered in blood with bodies. He was the Grim Reaper of the streets.

Walking out of his apartment building into the bright sun, he squinted his eyes at the daylight. Lonnie had been like a vampire, having been locked up in his apartment with the blinds closed. He'd isolated himself from the outside world and would've continued doing so if his pill stash and liquor supply would've withstood for a longer time.

All Lonnie did on his binge was pop pills, sip liquor, and roll the bag of blow around in his hand, tumbling around with the idea of breaking the seal. He also tried calling Trina a gang of times, but she did not answer. Lonnie knew he deserved the cold shoulder for how he played her when she got the call about her dad; however, he stopped giving a fuck about apologizing when he ran out of minutes. In such a short amount of time, Lonnie had spiraled down into the dumps and lost total control of his life.

Pulling the hood of his sweatshirt further over his head, Lonnie kept his head low as he walked toward the bus. Not having Kevin as a connect meant he had to score pills on his own. With his headphones nestled in his ear, he was oblivious to what everyone around him was whispering about. So much had gone on in the world while Lonnie was binging and telepathing himself into a different realm that was controlled by drugs. Two mutilated bodies of women had been discovered; and what had the whole nation looking at Detroit with a shaking head and sad eye was that a baby was found halfway dead a few feet from his dead mother.

Had Lonnie been in his right mind and not concentrating so hard on how the three dollars he had left from the ten he'd stolen would buy him enough liquor to last him for another binge, he would've seen the woman on the bus that noticed his face from the picture the news put up with the story it ran. A working woman with kids herself, she paid attention to crimes of that nature because she often traveled alone. When she snapped a picture of him on her phone, posting it on her Facebook site with the question, “Is this the guy?” Lonnie was completely oblivious that she'd done it and that he was smiling. In his mind, he'd figured out a winning plan on how to spend the ten and sell the blow.

* * *

The blocks Lonnie walked to the trap house looked a lot different in the light of day than it did at night. Still halfway deserted, there were a lot more hustlers and bums out, lurking for come ups. Lonnie walked with his hands stuffed in his pocket wrapped around his trusty weapon. He didn't think anyone would try him, but knew he had it in him to kill, if need be.

Finding his way back to the trap house without a problem, Lonnie was thankful the old homeless man from the store put him on to it. Walking up to the door, he knocked and was let in just like he was before.

“What up? Whatchu' looking to cop?” the hustler asked Lonnie, ready to make the sell and put the druggie out. The few trappers of the house had a Madden competition going on, and he wasn't trying to miss a play. There were three of them total, and they'd been taking turns serving custos at the door while two stayed and played.

“Hey, I need some pills, but all I got is this bag of blow. You think I can exchange it?” Lonnie asked. Having gone over the question a million times in a million different ways, he felt confident about the way he intended on getting rid of the bag and getting the pills until the words were actually said to the trapper.

“What in the fuck? Say, word? Yo, nigga, step the fuck up outta here. This ain't no motherfuckin' Walmart. We ain't selling drugs with receipts. Get the hell on till you come up with some cash,” the trap star clowned Lonnie, then collared him up and pushed him out the door.

Lonnie stumbled on his feet and fell to the ground. The trap star laughed before slamming the door and retreating back to the living room with his friends. Unfortunately, the fall didn't knock Lonnie's sense into him. It actually made him more determined to get the money for his habit by any means necessary. Climbing off the ground, he walked around from the trap house, then around the neighborhood aimlessly. He was trying to think and plot about everything he could do to come up on a few dollars. Needing twenty dollars to at least stay tucked away for a few days, he was willing to settle for ten. Lonnie wasn't going home empty-handed, for sure. He'd promised himself that before walking out the door.

Lonnie thought about busting out a car window, but didn't because none of the cars looked to be worth the twenty he wanted to at least think there was that type of cash in them. Then he figured the people around the hood were hard up like him and not going to leave money laying around. At that moment, Lonnie's eyes lit up like a lightbulb really had gone off in his head. He got the idea to rob somebody. Since most people carry their life savings with them everywhere they go, he cursed himself for not thinking about the idea sooner.

Lonnie chose to tuck himself away near the in-house restaurant the bum had gone to for a burger. He remembered there was a lot of traffic going in and out of their door in the nighttime and was giddy over the thought of how daytime's food traffic would be. He could barely contain himself when he saw the house was slapping with customers. Lonnie wished he was a burglar, 'cause he started thinking about how much money had to be in that house with them doing business in drones the way he was seeing.

Lonnie watched the people for who looked to be alone. He wanted an easy target, someone that couldn't put up much of a fight but didn't look like they were spending their last. He needed a person on foot. After casing the spot for about thirty minutes, he finally saw a young girl walk away alone. Coming toward him, she was too caught up in her delicious burger to notice Lonnie lurking by the corner for her.

As soon as the woman hit the corner, she stopped and looked both ways to see if a car was coming before she crossed. She was cleared to go from the left; then two nibbles of the burger in and a glance toward her right, the woman choked on the remnants of burger going down her throat. She tried spitting the burger patty, and toppings out to the ground, but Lonnie had her mouth covered with his hand and was slow walking her up the block. There was an alleyway a few feet away he'd planned on eventually robbing her at.

Kicking, twisting, and flinging her arms, the young girl wasn't trying to get away from Lonnie, but get his hands off her mouth. She was panicking and having an anxiety attack, about to choke on the mouthful of food she couldn't swallow or spit out. Each step Lonnie took without letting her go, the more she felt her life slipping away. Getting marched into the alley, not knowing what the crazed man was about to do to her, the woman hated she hadn't listened to her grandmother.

The old wise woman who ran the at-home restaurant had just warned her granddaughter about wandering the neighborhood alone, day or night. The young girl might've only kept up with her Facebook feed, but her grandmother watched the news religiously and knew there was a serial killer at large. Had she known her family member was in the horrible predicament she found herself, she would've been out of the kitchen from mixing up her special seasoning that kept folks coming back to her hood business.

“Calm yo' ass down,” Lonnie said to the girl in a cold, raspy voice.

Once in the alleyway, he'd seen the back door of an abandoned house either open or completely off the hinges. He knew for sure it was empty because the curtains that once kept the family's private life in was now hanging out of the open window—those that weren't busted out. Lonnie, walking backward, dragged the girl in by her face, a few times stumbling over his own feet.

“I said calm ya' fucking ass down before you make shit worse for yourself,” Lonnie warned.

The girl didn't listen. She figured if she was going to die, she was going to fight one helluva fight doing so. She reached her hand back and clawed his face with her acrylic nails, feeling small pieces of skin underneath her nails. Then she tried her hardest to pry his fingers back from off her mouth.

Lonnie, desperate for the pills to feed his addiction, had grown tired of tussling with the woman. He might've gotten off on the woman tussling if it was in the middle in the night and he was fresh off pills, but his high had already spiraled down. Lonnie simply was ready to get the attack over and get back to the pill house. Without wasting another second, he tightened the grip on her mouth and used his other hand to snap her neck. The sound of it popping sent shivers down his spine.

Lonnie let the girl fall to the floor—if not dead, within the last breaths of her life. He hadn't intended on killing the woman, only robbing her. But her spunk had worked against her. With another murder under his belt, Lonnie felt invincible.

Reaching for the box cutter, he only sliced the girl's lips left from left to right. He left her tongue intact and in place in her mouth. Unlike the other murders where he crept off in the middle of the night, this murder had taken place in broad daylight with people out and about within the community. Whenever he did leave from the abandoned house, reality would be waiting on him.

Leaning over the girl, Lonnie searched her pockets but didn't find a thing. He'd done all that for her not to have a dollar or even fifteen cents! He wished he had an X-pill to get him horny so he could've at least had sex with the girl and got some form of satisfaction. Not walking away empty-handed, Lonnie took her cell phone and school identification. He knew he could at least get a few dollars for the cell phone. He was ready to give it away for free, if free meant a couple of dollars.

So close, yet so far from feeding his addiction, Lonnie ran out of the abandoned house and all the way to the liquor store where he'd met the bum at. It was a neutral place for him to sell the phone and maybe even the bag of coke.

The bum who'd been struggling in the worse way trying to fight off his past addiction was happy to see Lonnie running up. Liquor is what helped the bum stay clean. He knew the young boy was good for at least a shot, although he was going to push his luck for a whole bottle. Or at least another burger from his wife's in-home restaurant. The bum knew he had a chance to clean up his life and go home one day; otherwise, the woman would've gotten a divorce years go. It's that thought that keeps the bum functioning off liquor and not the crack rock he loved to love.

“If it's not my favorite young friend. What's good, partner?” the bum asked Lonnie as he approached, glad to have some company. As long as the bum kept someone around him to talk to, he didn't fall victim to the white powder floating around that would kill him.

“Nothing but some more problems, O. G.,” Lonnie responded. “I need your help with something else, and I'll give you a little taste of the come up if you can help me,” Lonnie cut into the homeless man, feeling pressed for time and frantic for some pills.

The bum didn't wait to say yes. Before even hearing what Lonnie's plan was to come up, the bum was already plotting on how he could take a few dollars over to his wife. She cursed him out each and every time he came around with crumbled-up cash looking for some food, yet always gave him a meal. That's another reason the bum was so quick to say yes. He wanted a reason to visit his wife.

Lonnie pulled the bag of blow and the cell phone from his pocket, but dropped something else he didn't pay attention to. “Who can I sell these to?”

Seeing the blow made the bum's dick hard. The high he'd been hiding from was now right in front of his face. Lonnie was dangling the bag back and forth in front of the bum, hypnotizing him with the thought of what it tasted like. Looking down, trying not to give into temptation, the bum saw what he'd seen fall out of the Lonnie's pocket and went down to pick it up. He wasn't trying to be slick on any level, simply trying to do anything other than take ten steps backward.