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The detectives only had a few more questions for me before they let me go. They did ask me if I would mind giving them a sample of my DNA to help with the investigation. I took that to mean to eliminate me as a suspect. "That’s no problem. Anything I can do it help you catch the guy." I was glad to be getting out of there.

I drove away mad as hell with Qianna, and wondered if I hadn’t made a mistake by getting her to kill Taye. I paid her to kill her. I didn’t say anything about bringing some guy along to rape her before they killed her. I thought about not paying her, but that would be the worse thing I could do. Just give Qianna what we agreed on, and be done with her.

How could she be that damn stupid? If they found a DNA match to the sperm sample they had, and they caught the guy, he could turn on her. And I was sure if it came down to it that Qianna would give me up, and testify that I’d paid her to kill Taye.

So the real question was: How could I be so stupid?

* * *

Chapter Twenty-three

Avonte

I guess I’ve always been attracted to girls. I remember having a crush on this girl in the third grade. Back then, I didn’t even know what a lesbian was. When I became a teenager and became aware of my sexual feelings, I was physically attracted to men, but I was turned on by women, too. When me and my friends were checking out the guys, I found myself checking out women too.

After my relationship with Amy began, I felt confused and unsure about whether or not I was a lesbian. I felt confused because I was still attracted to both men and women. When Amy didn’t come back to school sophomore year, I started dating Tyrone, and I thought that it was just a phase I was going through, and that’s all it was. But I still had those feelings. I just figured it was natural for me because of my involvement with Amy, and never gave in to those feelings. It was easy for the most part, because I never found myself in a situation where I was forced to confront those desires—until I met Qianna.

She finally called me on Friday afternoon with some excuse about leaving her cell in a friend’s car, and not being able to get in touch with them to get it back until just that moment.

Whatever.

What does that have to do with her calling me?

Absolutely nothing. But I truly didn’t care as long as she said she was on her way. I didn’t care where she’d been for those two days. She showed up here on Friday night, and she gave this junkie her fix.

Everything was right with the world until that Monday morning, after Qianna left. On the first Monday of every month at ten o’clock, a courier comes by to drop off my money from Tyrone. Ten o’clock came, no courier. I tried not to panic though. My first thought was that it was some kind of Jewish holiday I knew nothing about, and I would have my money the next day.

No biggie; it wasn’t like I was pressed for the money. When Qianna came back later that afternoon, we went out to dinner, did some shopping, and then we caught a movie. After which, we went back to my place and she ravaged my body, in ways I can’t even describe.

After she finished me off, Qianna got out of bed and went in the bathroom. Before long, I heard the water running for the shower. I got up and went in the bathroom, just as she stepped in the shower. Qianna pushed the door open, and I accepted her invitation. I felt her tender lips touch mine. Nibbling softly at first; then she got rough with it, tugging on my bottom lip and holding it between hers. She grabbed my breasts and squeezed them. She used her tongue to lick around my nipples. It was driving me crazy and my juices started flowing. As Qianna bit at my nipples, she used her fingers to stroke and caress my clit. "This feels so fuckin’ good!"

It didn’t take long before she was kneeling down between my legs. "You taste so damn good," she pulled back to say, as she gazed into my eyes as the water rained down on her head. I spread my legs wider and she parted my lips. Her tongue flickered back and forth across my button. When I got her just where I wanted her; "Oh shit!" I screamed.

By Tuesday afternoon I was tired of waiting, so I called Albert Weinstein, Tyrone’s lawyer, to see what was going on. His secretary advised me that Weinstein was in a meeting and couldn’t be disturbed, but she would give him the message and have him call me. When I asked her about the money, she said she didn’t know anything about it, and I would have to wait and speak with Weinstein about the matter.

Lying bitch.

Don’t shit go on in that office that she doesn’t know about. But instead of calling her on it, I said in my most lady-like tone, "Okay, well, thank you. I’ll just wait to hear from Mr. Weinstein."

It was late on Wednesday afternoon before Weinste

in finally called me back. "Good afternoon, Avonte. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you."

"It’s all right, Mr. Weinstein. Thank you for getting back to me."

"What can I do for you, my dear?"

"Well," I said, and took a deep breath. "It’s the first of the month, and I haven’t received my check from Tyrone yet."

There was silence for a second or two before Weinstein spoke, and when he did, all he said was, "I see."

I waited to see if he was going to saying anything more. When he didn’t, I did. "I was wondering if you could tell me why I haven’t received it yet."

Once again, there was silence for a second or two before Weinstein answered me. "The simple answer, my dear, is that Tyrone asked me not to make anymore maintenance payments to you, until he advised me otherwise."

"What did you say?" I asked, even though I heard what he said, and was just having problems believing what he said was what I heard.

"Tyrone was in the office two weeks ago, and he instructed me to discontinue making maintenance payments to you until he gave me instructions to the contrary."


Tags: Roy Glenn Crime