When Somebody Loves You Back Read online

  Circling his hands on opposite sides of his mouth, Michael stared at her from his deck, then yelled, “Are you okay, Fancy?”

  “Oh my God,” Fancy moaned repeatedly. Shaking her head, she dragged herself onto the deck’s floor, then flopped to her knees. Weakly her hand wavered in the air. Not soliciting Michael’s help but for him to stay away. He’d helped her relationship enough.

  “I’ll be right over!” Michael yelled, disappearing through his back patio door.

  Michael Baines, regardless of the circumstances, was the last person Fancy wanted in Darius’s house again. Michael, one of the best real estate brokers in California, had helped her become a millionaire and although she’d never fucked him—not because she hadn’t considered lately—Darius wasn’t convinced. What Darius was was insecure in attempting to keep her away from every man except himself.

  Fancy wanted to yell back, but her syllables were muffled. “No, Michael. I’ll be all right.” What if Darius came home and started more unnecessary bullshit? Her plan was to leave before Darius arrived, but she was in too much pain to go anywhere.

  “Feels like I’m gonna die.” Dragging one foot after the other, Fancy crawled to the bathroom, hoisted herself up, and sat on the toilet. She ignored the constant ringing of the doorbell, her breasts touching her thighs, until her legs became numb. Well, she couldn’t stay on the toilet forever and truly didn’t want to die there. Wiping herself, Fancy looked at the tissue. Tiny bloody lumps and slimy pink mucus stained the tissue.

  “Oh my God!” Her eyes closed. Opened. Turning to inspect the toilet, she saw a thin line of clumps of blood trailing the white porcelain bowl to the bottom. Fancy balled her fists, clamped her arms to her side, and squeezed her legs together, trying to hold in the contents.

  Plop. Plop. Plop.

  “God, no. Please, stop my baby from falling.”

  Tears poured one stream after another as the clumps kept splashing. Fancy’s entire body tensed.

  Pulling up her purple silk panties, Fancy grabbed the red and white bottle, faintly shaking it. Unscrewing the top, she thought, Good, I have four more aspirins to take away the pain.

  Filling a small mouthwash cup with water, Fancy swallowed two pills. When the second round of blows struck, she hurried to the phone and dialed medical emergency. Continuing to ignore the doorbell, Fancy placed the phone next to her ear and said, “Hello. Hello.”

  “Bitch, you still up in my man’s house!”

  This time, pissed off and in pain, Fancy cried, “Ashlee, why? I haven’t done anything to you.”

  Karma had a way of wreaking revenge. Fancy hadn’t done anything to Ashlee, but she had shown up at Byron’s sister’s house a few years ago pretending to be a Realtor. That was before Fancy had gotten her license and before she discovered the woman was his sister, not his wife. Byron’s sister was nice, invited her in, and when the woman’s water bag broke, she’d pleaded with Fancy to stay with her. But Fancy couldn’t, she had to escape before Byron saw her there. Scared, Fancy had deserted a pregnant woman in labor, and Byron had shown up before she’d driven away.

  “Since you keep answering the damn phone, the phone I used to answer, give Darius a message from me. Tell Darius his son, I mean our son, is—”

  Fancy hung up. “That bitch is c-r-a-z-y. Desperate and deranged. I see why Darius put her pathetic ass out. But she can have him!” Deniably, Fancy understood Ashlee’s irrational behavior. Momentarily Fancy forgot about her pain, clenching the red and white bottle until an almost paralyzing fiery sensation darted up her spine, burning.

  “Oh, shit!” Fancy yelled. “Oh, God, why me?”

  Frantically, she peeped inside her panties. More blood flowed. Returning to the bathroom, thoroughly wiping one final time, she flushed the toilet, put on two panty liners, and a torn but clean pair of underwear. Fancy changed her clothes, grabbed her purse, tossed the bottle inside, then hopped in the new platinum S-type Jaguar Darius had bought her as a wedding or make-up gift. The huge red bow was neatly attached to the top. Backing out the driveway, Fancy stopped within inches of rolling over Michael.

  Fancy pressed the button to lower her window. “I’m going to the hospital. I’ll be okay.”

  “Not the way you’re leaning over that steering wheel. Like it or not, I’m taking you. Get out.” Michael helped Fancy into the passenger seat, snatched the bow off, tossing it on the lawn.

  Unsuccessfully she tried to step one foot out of the car but doubled over in pain. The pain in Fancy’s stomach left her no choice but to stay in the car. Driving along the freeway, zooming in and out of lanes, Michael arrived at the nearest hospital parking at the entrance.

  Sliding her feet as Fancy entered the main lobby, she heard, “Fancy?”

  Turning to witness the familiar voice, she saw Jada. “I can’t talk right now. Would you please tell Darius where I am?” Fancy said, leaning on Michael.

  “She doesn’t have to.”

  Looking to her opposite side, Fancy saw Darius. Weakly she stretched her arms out to him. “Help me. I feel like I’m dying.”

  Swatting her hands away, Darius said, “So you decided to do it, huh? What’d I tell you? I hope you die, too.”

  “Darius, please,” Fancy begged. “Listen—”

  “What for? You with who you wanna be with. Stay with that nigga. All you bitches are just alike.”

  “Darius Jones!” Jada yelled, then sternly said, “You will not treat Fancy like your father treated me. Apologize right this minute.”

  Looking at Darryl, then at his mother, Darius replied, “Williams. My last name is Williams. Besides what do you care? I went to the restroom for two minutes and you and everybody else thought I’d left. Well, this time I am leaving.” Then he stumped out of the lobby.

  Michael ushered Fancy toward emergency, saying, “Let him go. He’s not man enough for you. You can do a lot better, if you know what I mean.”

  Silence was best. Fancy couldn’t believe, not knowing her condition, Darius abandoned her. “Oh my God! He thinks I’m having an abortion,” Fancy cried, entering the emergency room filled with more people than seats. She could hardly breathe.

  “This is ridiculous,” Fancy mumbled, leaving Michael. Managing her way to the front of the line, she walked up to the triage nurse and placed her medical card on the counter.

  Without looking up the nurse said, “Wait your turn. I’ll be with you after I’ve helped the people in front of—”

  Another clump of blood pushed through Fancy’s vaginal canal. She collapsed to the floor. Her eyes fluttered, then shut. She couldn’t move.

  The nurse jumped up, staring over the counter, and yelled, “Oh my gosh! Patient down! I need a doctor over here quick! Patient down! Hurry!”

  A few minutes later, Fancy lay on the gurney with Michael trailing behind the assistants rushing her through the hallway.

  “Sir, you’ll have to wait in the lobby,” the assistant said to Michael.

  “No, please.” Reaching her arms toward Michael, Fancy said, “I’m scared. I want you to stay with me.”

  Moments later, Fancy was in a private room with a doctor sticking his fingers inside her pussy. After poking inside and pressing on her abdomen, he removed his bloody rubber gloves, tossing them into the trash bin marked contaminated.

  “Well, your abortion process is under way. It won’t take much longer.”

  Michael’s brows rose, widening his eyes. “Abortion?”

  Shaking her head, Fancy replied, “Doctor, what are you saying? Am I having a miscarriage?”

  “Well, from the way you’re bleeding, and I’ve seen this before, your abortion pills are working. This is perfectly normal. Who’s your doctor? Have you inserted the vaginal tablets yet?”

  “Please tell me you’re confused,” Fancy said, peeping under the sheet looking down at the fresh circle of blood on the blue pad underneath her butt. “Oh my God. Don’t just stand there. Do something. Help me! Save my baby!”

 
Michael extended his hand for comfort. “Calm down. Let the doctor do his job.”

  “Stop stressing yourself out, Mrs. Taylor. Lots of women take the abortion pill and then when it’s too late, wish they hadn’t. What type of work do you do?”

  “You have got to be insane. Okay, maybe your question is to help me in some sadistic kind of way. Maybe you really are a doctor. Look, I own a real estate firm and sell homes to celebrities and businesspeople with more money than time. I hate wasting my time. In fact I want you to stop wasting my time and quit lying or taking ‘educated guesses’ with me.” Fancy glanced at the blood again, then continued. “Save my baby!”

  Shaking his head, the doctor looked up at Michael and asked, “Are you her husband?”

  “No, please don’t say that. He’s my neighbor. All I care about right now is saving my baby. That and I have to be in my best friend’s wedding.”

  The doctor was now shaking his head again. “Mrs. Taylor, you don’t realize how serious this is. You can’t just take abortion pills and then pretend you didn’t want to terminate your pregnancy.”

  “What do you keep talkin’ about? I took four aspirins. Aspirins! Two yesterday and two today. Give me my purse, Michael. I’ll show you.”

  Michael handed Fancy her purse.

  “Whatever you say, Mrs. Taylor. Maybe you don’t want your husband to know the truth. Let me reassure you. He doesn’t have access to your confidential records. So if you don’t tell him, or your friend standing here doesn’t tell him, he’ll never know.”

  “Here,” Fancy said, handing the red and white bottle to the doctor.

  Removing the top, the doctor shook the two remaining pills into his palm. Flipping them over, he showed them to Fancy. “See here? Just as I thought. RU. Abortion pills. You’ve stopped your pregnancy. But how did you get these? Only a doctor can administer these.”

  “I didn’t get them!”

  “Okay, calm down. Now back to your health. I have patients waiting. We can’t keep you against your will, but my professional recommendation is that you check yourself in and let us take care of you. You’ll probably get discharged tomorrow or the next day at the latest. However, if you leave, please let me be clear. You have stopped your pregnancy. If you choose not to complete the abortion process, there is a high risk of fetal deformities, you could miscarry, you could experience severe bleeding, or you could die. Oh yeah, and I strongly recommend you see a professional psychiatrist immediately upon your release. We can provide referrals if you’d like.”

  “Naw.” Shaking her head, Fancy said, “I’m not crazy. I don’t know what happened, but I do know Darius gave me those pills. It’s best I stay here.” She closed her eyes in disbelief.

  How could she be so stupid?

  CHAPTER 17

  Candice

  Everyone in Hollywood was a star.

  Los Angeles. The land of milk and honeys, where women knew how to pay the rent by sweet-talking, fucking, or charming a man. In Southern California, everything had a price, and to yield a return on an investment was like winning the Mega lottery. The average person’s looks could easily win a Mr. or Miss Universe contest, and visitors got whiplash from lusting over the abundance of booty and bodybuilders dressed in thongs on Venice Beach or the ladies of the night strolling along Sunset Boulevard.

  Northern California, where Candice once lived, was the complete opposite. The average Bay Area migrant was overweight and the women were underlaid and underpaid, upholding that equal rights crap. Cohabiting women foolishly split the bills: restaurant and household. The beaches were dried up, the weather was too chilly most of the time, especially during summer, and the men were blander than seasonless chicken.

  L.A. The land of opportunities and opportunists. Every second, good or bad, someone was taken advantage of, and it was a matter of when, not if, she’d get hers. Until then, Candice’s motto was that of the majority of the county’s residents, vagabonds, and transients, “Do unto others before they do unto you.” When had she become such a devious diva that at her best friend’s weakest moment she’d prey? Candice had more than enough money, and in L.A. money could buy a stunt double.

  The night was young yet old. Warm and cold-blooded. Darius deserved every bad thing that could happen to him, Candice thought, after listening to how he degraded Fancy in front of all of them and left Ashlee stranded at that hotel in Beverly Hills.

  En route to Jada’s via Darius’s house, darkness visited around 6:00 p.m. A lot had transpired since sunrise, with very few sprinkles of sunshine in between. Candice’s visual of Wellington’s dick lying in a chop shop waiting to be stripped was gloomy. Exactly what were the doctors cutting? How could she get a copy of Wellington’s report?

  Honk, honk.

  It only took one driver to start a band of horn blowers. Most of the working-class people surrounding her in rush-hour traffic were impatiently in transit from their nine-to-fives to their postwork destinations. Home. A bar. Happy hour. Preschool. A second job. Eight-plus hours of routine servitude, without gratitude. Oblivious of their surroundings, they probably hadn’t noticed anything new along the way. Rat-racing to earn a dollar or a dime that was already spent.

  Having money had its advantages. No two days were the same in Candice’s life. One day in Dallas. The next in Los Angeles. Tomorrow she’d be back in Dallas. Every day she had to look over her shoulder, never forgetting her motto.

  Darryl had eagerly escorted Jada home. At Jada’s request, Candice had agreed to give them a few hours alone. Hopefully her girlfriend would go on and get her some dick. Life was what it was and the reality was Jada could benefit from a couple of big orgasms.

  Parking in his driveway, Candice got excited using her duplicate key to enter Darius’s home. This time she didn’t have to hurry. Fancy was admitted to the hospital. Darius was on his way to the airport. Ashlee was in Dallas. Candice would have at least eighteen hours before her departure back to Texas.

  “Now, where does Mr. Lover store his recording devices?” Candice scanned the baseboards, ceilings, tried following the direction of the infrared beam. She was clueless.

  What about fingerprints? Candice shook her head. Gloves. She hadn’t bother with those. She wasn’t a burglar. She was their diehard friend to the end. Carefully she placed her laptop on the living room table, plugged in the cord, pressed the Power button, tossed the ten memory cards from Jada’s house next to the laptop, then went upstairs.

  Twisting a knob to a closed door, she found the room locked. Jiggle. Wiggle. She’d figure out how to manipulate the latch later. Entering the weight room, Candice doubted much action had taken place there. Never know. She replaced the blue memory card, then shut the door. Not saving the best for last, she went to Darius’s bedroom next. Candice paused in the doorway, then entered. “My God. What happened here?”

  Nasty bloodstains on the toilet seat, broken glass on the floor. Removing her hidden camera, Candice slid out the memory card, placing it in her pocket. Easing a new card into the camera, she pushed the device into its hiding place.

  “Oh yes. Another button. Should I? I wouldn’t be a great detective if I didn’t.” Her finger curled, applying pressure. Candice listened to objects moving.

  This time the three mirrors in Darius’s bedroom rotated halfway, then stopped. She peeped inside. Shallow breaths barely inflated her lungs. She couldn’t believe there was a room inside his bedroom. “Who would think of all this?” Turning sideways, she stepped inside the well-lit area. There were twelve TV screens monitoring outdoors and every room in the house, and…bingo! The tapes she’d been looking for.

  “Hot damn! I’m good!”

  Eager to see what was on them, Candice sat on the edge of the burgundy computer chair pressing buttons.

  “So that’s what Ashlee was doing. She’s crazy. Okay, Fancy can’t decide if she wants to masturbate or not. Darius!” Candice replayed the tape several times. “No, he did not shove Fancy like that. What if he’s responsible f
or Fancy losing the baby? If his mama saw this, she’d, she’d make excuses for his reckless behavior. That was Darius’s problem. He’s gotten away with everything, including murder.”

  Realizing she’d gone too far, Candice had second thoughts on exposing Jada and Darius. Exhaling, she said, “This could turn out all bad. Hell, all of us could end up behind bars.” A lot of emotional events had happened in their lives. But Candice could change the names, maybe alter the scenes—a little. What if Jada was spying on her?

  “I wonder what would happen if I…” Curious, Candice flipped a red switch.

  Zurp. Zurp. The monitors shut down. The mirror doors slammed, then locked. Power off. Lights out.

  Alone, Candice sat wishing she was by the bay window.

  CHAPTER 18

  Ashlee

  Was the dick that good?

  Emotionally, Ashlee had multiple orgasms, absorbing Darius’s sexual energy. Whenever she replayed their last intimate moment, she came again. Darius’s presence sensuously overwhelmed her. His body was so strong, perfectly shaped, and irresistibly sexy. What made her love him? Laying her head against Darius’s chest made Ashlee believe Darius cared for her too. His fingers strummed her strands of hair musically, reassuring his feelings. Instantly she’d dozed off. Dream. Fantasy? Fairy tale. Myth?

  Nervous, lonely, and back in Dallas, she found the melodies embedded in her memory. Ashlee sat in a rocking chair with little Darius in her arms. “You light up my life, you…” She paused, then exhaled, watching her son. “Not this again,” she complained, watching his sniffles escalate. His lips opened wide for her to see his fluttering tonsils.

  “Waaa! Waaa!”

  “Hush, baby, please,” she sang. “You give me strength to carry, baby, please, Mommy’s here.”

  “Waaa! Waaa!”

  Standing, Ashlee laid his head on her shoulder, pacing in his room. Light blue walls, accented with Spiderman borders, and a crib filled with dozens of stuffed animals. Little Darius no longer slept in his room at night. Her bed was his bed but not during the day.