Sins of a Siren (2 page)

Damn! She looks just like Queen Latifah with her hair like that.
Trenda took the camcorder case off her shoulder, then removed her jacket. “I had a couple of job interviews.”

“It's almost nine. You must have had more than a couple of interviews.” Piper pointed her half-eaten fish stick at the camcorder bag. She brushed her silk-wrapped, neck-length hair out of her face. Her dark brown eyes scrutinized Trenda. “Did you audition for a job as a photographer?”

Piper, you my girl, but if you don't stop sweatin' me, I'm gonna strangle your ass,
Trenda thought as she searched for an alibi. She knew Piper wouldn't stop inquiring about her whereabouts until she received a satisfactory answer. “I was gonna take it to the camera shop over on South Charles but it got late on me. My light has been trippin'.”

Piper stuffed the rest of the fish stick in her mouth and swallowed it. “Let me have a look at it. I fixed my mom's camera when it had a similar problem.”

Oh shit! If her jealous ass finds out about me and Darius, I will have to kill her.
She placed the camcorder on the floor next to the caramel-colored sofa. “That's okay, hon. I called Sony and they told me to ship it to them since it's still under warranty.”

Disappointment filled Piper's voice and face as Trenda refused her help. “Oh…okay. I just wanted to help…”

Fuck! I don't wanna deal with her whinin' all damn night.
Trenda held her arms out and gave her a well-practiced fake smile. “Come here, baby.”

Even though she was a foot taller than Trenda, Piper sometimes
acted like a twenty-two-year-old infant. Her wealthy parents contributed to her spoiled behavior. They provided their only child with anything she wanted. They paid for her education, apartment and her new Range Rover. Piper looked into Trenda's green eyes as she accepted her hug. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you, too, boo-boo.”

Trenda felt Piper's hand slowly inch down her back and rest on her ass. “Mmmm, Trenda,” Piper moaned. “I get so wet thinking about you…Mmmm…”

Even though livin' here rent-free for the past year was cool, I'm definitely not gonna miss havin' to sex her big ass. Plus, it's gettin' harder and harder to hide the fact that I transport large amounts of dope up and down the East Coast.
Trenda slowly worked her way around Piper. As she hugged Piper from behind, Trenda let her hand slip down between the waistband of Piper's white sweatpants. “Mmmmm, I can feel you drippin'.”

Piper tossed her head back and rubbed on her gigantic breast. “Yesssssssss, rub my clit…mmmmmmm.”

Trenda stared up at the ceiling as she massaged and fingered Piper's fat, wet pussy.
Thanks to Darius's punk-ass, most of my regular customers don't fuck wit' me no more.
She inserted two fingers deep inside Piper's leaking pussy as she groaned with pleasure.
I've seen his stuck-up wife. Ain't no way he's gonna give up makin' me his sex slave when he has to go home to that cold bitch.

“Yesssssssss! Yesssssssss! Faster, baby,
faster!
” Piper moaned as Trenda continued to finger-fuck her.

Trenda added a third finger.
It's time for me to get outta Baltimore. Ain't shit here for me but trouble. Hell, I might as well be a ghost to my funny-style family.
She used her thumb to massage Piper's clit as she increased her finger-fucking speed.
And this is definitely the last time I'm gonna make this big bitch nut,
she thought as Piper screamed out in pleasure and saturated Trenda's fingers in warm orgasmic juice.

A
fter sending Piper off to bed satisfied, Trenda went into the bathroom, locked the door and stripped. She then turned on the hot water and added some pear-scented bubble bath. As she waited for the bathtub to fill, she examined her sexy frame in the large mirror mounted to the back of the bathroom door. She grinned at her reflection. Her firm breasts, dark brown suckable nipples, flat washboard stomach, small waist and wide hips had conquered many men
and
women. “Like I always say, ‘if you keep ya body tight, you'll keep ya money right.'”

Before entering the tub, Trenda turned off the lights. She loved bathing in complete darkness—if she bathed alone. A merry-go-round of thoughts on how to escape her plight filled her head. A bolt of lightning exploded outside the frosted bathroom window. The following deep bass note of thunder made the shelves in the medicine cabinet rattle. “Wherever I end up goin', it's damn sure gonna have better spring weather than here.”

She washed up, dried off, put on her red satin robe and exited the bathroom. As she crossed the living room, she noticed that her camcorder bag was no longer next to the sofa.
What the fuck?
Panic leaked from her pores as she scanned the living room. No sign of the camera bag. Down the hallway, she saw light coming from Piper's room.
Oh shit! I hope that girl didn't—

Trenda quickly and quietly made her way to Piper's bedroom door. She peeked into the room and saw the camcorder on top of the TV and herself on Piper's TV screen, sucking Darius's dick.

She peeked further into the room and saw Piper standing next to the bed naked and staring at the TV with tears running down her face and dripping from her chin. She also held a long, brass, pointy letter opener in her clenched fist. Trenda attempted to tiptoe to her room.
I gots to get the hell outta here and let that girl cool down!

Before Trenda could leave, Piper spotted her and paused the tape, freezing Darius in his uniform right before he pushed Trenda to the floor. She glanced at the doorway and into Trenda's eyes. “I
knew
I shouldn't have trusted a ghetto hoochie like you! I let you move in with me and give you my heart and
this
is how you thank me?” Piper yelled, shivering with anger.

“Hold up,” Trenda said as she watched Piper take a step toward her. “There's a reason I had to make that tape. Besides, what the hell are you doin' lookin' at my stuff without my permission?”

Piper glared at her. “I called myself surprising you by fixing your camcorder while you were bathing, you ungrateful bitch!”

Although Trenda's affluent family was from Randallstown, Trenda preferred to hang out in the inner city areas of West Baltimore. She, along with her two older brothers, was raised in a very religious home. Her father was the minister of his own church and her mother reinforced his preaching at home as a full-time housewife. The constant pressure of being under her family's moral and religious thumb drove her desire for freedom.

Once she reached the age of seventeen, as her mother tried to beat her with a belt after finding a book of matches in her backpack, Trenda slapped her and ran out of the door in her Catholic school uniform. That was the last time she'd seen or heard from her family. That was nearly ten years ago.

Trenda glanced down at Piper's right hand, which held the letter opener. She looked back into her face. “Why don't you calm down so we can talk this shit out?”

Piper grimaced and wiped the tears off of her face as she quickened her pace around the bed. “Fuck you! I'm not going to listen to
any
of your bullshit lies!”

Trenda had to think and move quickly; Piper was a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than she was. “Piper, back up off me,” Trenda said as she pulled Piper's bedroom door closed and took a few steps backward, into the hallway.

“Bring your ass here, you fucking cunt!” Piper screamed as she yanked the door open.

Trenda ran into the living room as the door rattled on its hinges after slamming against the bedroom wall. “Owww!” Trenda yelled after banging her shin against the coffee table. She stood behind the sofa as Piper charged down the hallway. She desperately wanted to check her wounded shin, but dared not take her eyes off her angry roommate. “I'm warnin' you, Piper. Leave me the fuck alone!”

Piper kicked the coffee table out of her way, leaned over the sofa and lashed out with the letter opener. She barely missed Trenda's face, but she did leave a deep gash on her right shoulder. “I'm going to cut your fucking eyes out!”

Trenda braved a peek at her shoulder as she ran toward the kitchen. A small, dark stain formed on the shoulder of her red satin robe. The circular kitchen table provided even less of a barrier than did the sofa.
I gotta stop this crazy bitch!

Piper ran into the kitchen gasping for breath. For a second, the sight of her reminded Trenda of a sweaty, naked and insane female walrus. Aware that she had Trenda trapped, Piper gave her a maniacal grin. “I've got your ass now!”

Trenda frantically sought an escape route, but found none. As Piper lifted the letter opener over her head, Trenda spotted the eighteen-inch-tall peppermill on the table. Piper lunged over the table at her.

In a quick, adrenaline-fueled movement, Trenda grasped the solid walnut peppermill, leaned to her left and clubbed Piper on the side of her head. As Piper yelped with pain, she managed to drag the letter opener across Trenda's right cheek.
That bitch cut my face!
Trenda bared her teeth against the pain and brained Piper twice more on the back of the head with the peppermill.

Piper's eyes rolled up, revealing the whites, before she collapsed onto the table. Trenda held the peppermill in midair, ready to bash her again, but Piper went limp and rolled off the table, striking her head on the linoleum floor.

Trenda panted as she stared down at the fallen big woman. Piper didn't appear to be breathing. Trenda held the peppermill high as she tapped the side of Piper's head with her toe. She didn't respond.
Oh shit! I gotta get the fuck outta here
. The imagined sound of a jail cell door slamming made Trenda move. Having already spent an unbearable six months in a Philadelphia jail for a parole violation, she had no desire to spend the next twenty-five-years-to-life in the Gray Bar Motel.

She shoved the table out of the way and sprinted to her room.
Where are my goddamned sweats?
She tore off her robe and dug through her dresser drawers. Failing to find a pair of sweats, she removed the damp jeans and sweatshirt she'd worn earlier from the hamper and pulled them over her naked body, before slipping her bare feet back into her soggy black boots.

No matter how fast Trenda tried to move, it felt as if she was running out of time. She snatched open her closet door and grabbed her “Travelin' Bag”—a black-and-white Reebok gym bag, which
held two sets of sweats, socks, underwear, tennis shoes, two sets of fake driver's licenses and one thousand dollars in cash. Her hustling lifestyle taught her to be ready to run at anytime, from anywhere.

She sensed the sand in her mental hourglass running out. “Think, don't panic,
think!
” Trenda said as she grabbed her cell phone charger and tossed it in her bag. Next, she picked up her New York Yankees cap and Reebok bag and ran out of the room. “Keys! Where are my fuckin' car keys?”

Trenda spotted them on the floor next to the coffee table that Piper had kicked askew. She slapped the cap on her head and scooped up her keys. Before fleeing the apartment, she went to the kitchen and checked on Piper.
It looks like she moved
. Trenda cautiously got on one knee and examined her.

She then placed her hand by Piper's nose and mouth and felt a weak, warm breath escaping.
At least her crazy-ass ain't dead, but she looks kinda fucked up.
The small flow of blood from Piper's ear was a bit disconcerting.

Trenda got to her feet and went to the wall-mounted yellow telephone.
I don't need a murder on my head
. She picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1. After hearing the dispatcher answer, she let the phone receiver fall to the floor, knowing they would send a patrol car out to investigate.
Time to get the hell out!
Grabbing her bag, keys and purse she fled the apartment.

“C
'mon now, Griff! I know you can give me more than two grand. My car ain't but a year old,” Trenda said to the heavy, dark, thick-glasses-wearing man in front of her. He ran a junkyard in Chestertown where—for the right price—he could make unwanted vehicles disappear, no questions asked.

“How you get that cut on ya pretty face?”

She touched her wound and in the light cast by his dim yard lights, found blood on her fingertip. “I ran into Freddy Krueger. Look, I ain't got time to socialize. How much you gonna give me for it?” A dull throbbing pain reminded her of her shoulder injury.

He ran his hand over the hood. “You gotta remember, there ain't a big demand for Isuzu parts around here.” He looked from the cut, into her green eyes. “Now, if it was somethin' like a Benz, I could break you off a little mo' change.”

She checked her watch as they stood in the light rain, in front of the trailer Griff lived in, which sat in the back of his messy junkyard. Her instincts told her she had to get going. She then focused on him. “I been bringin' you customers for years. Two grand is the best you can do?”

He grinned and stared at her large breasts. “Well, maybe if you spend the night, we can figure out a way for you to earn a few mo' ends.”

I wouldn't fuck you wit' somebody else's pussy
. She snatched the wad of cash out of his dirty hands and stuffed it in her pocket. “Fuck it, but you gotta drop me off on North Charles Street.”

He grinned. “I'll have my man Julio take this piece of shit out back and gut it. I'll put what's left in the car crusher.” He pulled a half-smoked cigar out of the pocket of his greasy overalls and fired it up. He was so busy looking at Trenda he didn't notice the tall, skinny crackhead that stood at the entrance to the junkyard watching them. “Tim, didn't I tell you to stop hangin' around here wit' ya beggin' ass?”