Wil
3
I let out a long, aggravated sigh as I watched two United States Deputy Marshals walk out of my office. They’d just drilled me for the past hour about my friend Jay, who had apparently escaped from prison. I eased my 290-pound frame back behind my desk and into my chair, waiting until both men disappeared onto the elevator before I picked up my phone. I dialed the only person who could possibly make sense of what the hell the deputies had just told me.
“Wil, what’s up?” Kyle, my best friend of more than thirty-five years, answered. There was a tentativeness to his voice that made me think he’d been expecting my call.
“Jay escaped from prison,” I told him. I was sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting to hear his reply. Kyle, Jay, our other friend Allen, and I had always been close, more like brothers than friends, but Kyle and Jay had a different kind of bond. I knew this news was going to hit him hard.
There was a slight pause on the line, which spoke volumes. Kyle wasn’t normally one to hold back his opinion. “Yeah, I know,” he finally responded. “The deputies raided my house about two hours ago. I’m still trying to calm Lisa down from the trauma of having all those men with guns seeing her naked.”
“Raided your house? What the fuck is going on?” I shouted. His wife being naked registered, but I didn’t want to touch that with a ten-foot pole. I did want to know why they felt the need to raid his house. I mean, couldn’t they have stopped by his office like they’d done to me? Or did they know something I didn’t?
“Jesus Christ, Kyle. You didn’t help him escape, did you?”
“Come on, Wil,” he growled angrily. “They raided my house because I’m the only one who has visited Jay regularly. I’m pretty sure I’m the prime suspect to have been his accomplice.” There was a hint of annoyance in his tone, and I understood the reason for it. He was sending me on a little bit of a guilt trip.
Kyle had been on my ass for the last year to go see Jay more often, especially since he’d pulled some strings to have him transferred to Danbury, Connecticut, closer to us. I’d gone a few times, but the truth was I hated all the bullshit I had to go through. The guards treated us visitors like we were the damn inmates. I wasn’t about to get into that “you don’t visit him enough” argument with Kyle again, so I ignored his comment. Besides, we had a much more important issue to discuss at the moment.
“You didn’t answer my question, and those deputies who left here made it very clear that they think he had help. So right now, I need to know it wasn’t you.”
“No, Wil, I didn’t help him . . . but I’m not saying I wouldn’t if he’d asked,” he replied in a dead serious tone that quite frankly scared the shit out of me.
“What the fuck are you saying? That’s aiding and abetting a fugitive! They lock people up for shit like that. You could lose your family, your business, and more importantly your freedom behind Jay’s bullshit.”
“Wil,” he said in a low, calm voice. “He’s been in prison for ten years, and we both know he’s innocent.”
“Do we?” I asked skeptically. I wanted to believe Jay was innocent, but I had my doubts.
“What do you mean, do we? Of course we do. He’s our best friend, remember? He wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“Look, Kyle, I’m just saying, none of us know what went on behind those closed doors, but you’ve seen the evidence. That girl Ashlee was beaten up, there was evidence of vaginal injuries, and she had his semen inside her. Who are we to say she was lying?”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Wil, Jay didn’t rape that woman. She set him up.” His voice rose with his anger.
“If you say so, man.” I really didn’t want to continue the conversation, and thankfully, I was given an out when I spotted a dark-suited figure headed toward my office.“Look, man, my director is headed this way. I’ll give you a shout after work.”
Malek Johnson, my boss of two years and fifteen years my junior, barely acknowledged my secretary as his short ass walked past her and into my office. Malek was one of those smooth-talking, brown-nosing Negroes who talked a good game to the white boys upstairs so that they thought he was a fucking genius, but he didn’t know shit. If it weren’t for me and the other department heads saving his ass all the time, he’d have been gone a long time ago.
“Everything all right, Wil? I heard you had a couple of cops come to see you.” He lifted an eyebrow in a fake gesture of concern, which made my stomach turn a little. Guess he was on a fishing expedition.
“Yeah, two U.S. Marshals wanted to ask me a few questions about an old high school buddy who escaped from prison yesterday.” I laughed, trying my best to keep the mood light, in spite of the seriousness of the situation. Just the fact that I knew someone who had escaped from prison was embarrassing as hell. I swear I could see Malek’s smug ass suppressing a smirk. “But it’s nothing,” I told him. “They just wanted to know if he’d made contact with me.”
“And has he?” Malek asked sternly as he settled into the chair across from my desk.
“No, and I don’t think he will.”
“Good.” He nodded, folding his hands in front of him. “Have you taken a look at our stock price today?” I tried to read his facial expression and his body language, but he was impenetrable.
I shook my head. “Not since the merger rumors.”
There were a few rumors floating around about a possible merger or a buyout, but I had tried not to pay attention to it. Some type of shift was definitely in the air at the pharmaceutical company, but whether the change would be for good or for worse, I wasn’t sure. I just knew I couldn’t get side-tracked from what I was supposed to be doing. The best thing for me to do, the best thing for any of us to do, was to just keep doing our jobs and doing them well. That way, if a merger did happen, there was a chance we could remain employed.
“It’s no longer rumor,” Malek said. “The VP told me about it a week ago, and CNBC reported it today. Stock’s up almost ten bucks and climbing. A company guy like you probably made out well on your profit-sharing alone.”
“I’m sure I’ve done all right.” I smiled, because he was right. I’d held onto every share I’d been given or bought since the day I walked in the door twenty-five years ago.
“And I’m sure you’ll continue to do all right, but there are a few people around here that won’t.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I was relieved that it seemed the bad news wasn’t directed at me. Either way, I didn’t want to jinx my apparent good luck, so I kept my mouth shut.
Malek continued, “Wil, I need you to do something for me.”
Even though I wanted him to think I was cool, calm, and collected, inside I was starting to become tense. Given the topic we were discussing, I could imagine several things he would ask me to do, and none of them were good.
“Sure, what’s up?” I shrugged.
His eyes were cast downward. That was not a good sign. It’s never a good thing when a man can’t look another man in the eyes. Finally, he made eye contact.
“Like I told you before, the merger is going to happen. At least that’s what they are calling it; but ultimately, we’re being taken over. It’s their CEO who’s going to run things, which means his people. Upper management is going crazy trying to look lean so they keep their jobs.” He looked out through my glass wall at several employees, the ones that I supervised, seated in their cubicles.
Dear Lord, if this man was in here to do what I thought he was about to do . . .
“What are you trying to say, Malek? Am I out of a job?”
He turned to me and shook his head. “No, but some of your people are going to have to go. I know you’ve been with the company a while. Some of your employees have been working with you just as long. Which is what makes this so difficult.”
I swallowed hard, trying not to throw up. My stomach was doing so many flips.
“I need you to cut thirty percent of your staff.”
“What?” I said in shock as I stood to my feet. I’ll be honest and admit that a part of me was overjoyed it wasn’t me being axed, but to have to deliver bad news to half of my employees—that was asking a lot.
“You can’t be serious,” I protested. “We barely get things done with the staff we have.”
“Well, figure it out, ’cause I’m serious as hell,” he replied, his tone all business and no sympathy.
“When do I have to do this?” I was beside myself.
“Tomorrow. Severance packages are being worked up as we speak, but we want all their IDs and computer passwords by tomorrow, end of day.” He stood up from his chair. “I’m sorry, Wil. I know it’s tough. Hell, it was tough for me just to come in here and ask you to do it, but our hands are tied.”
I looked out at my employees. Some of those guys were like family. I’d been to their homes for barbecues, they’d been to mine; I’d gone to lunch with them, and they’d shared some of their personal problems. A couple of them even looked to me as a friend. I couldn’t do this to them.
“Malek,” I said to my boss as he was headed to the door. “I can’t do this.” I pointed to the window. “I can’t do that to them.”
He looked at me with not even a hint of compassion in his eyes. “It’s part of your job, Wil, and if you can’t do it, then we can find somebody who can, if you know what I mean.”
The underlying threat did not go unnoticed. As much as I didn’t want to see my team out of work, I had to look out for number one first, so I was quick to say, “If that’s what you want me to do, then I’ll do it.”
The corners of his mouth raised, and then he said, “Thought so.”
Allen
4
“I don’t understand. I thought he was up for parole. Why would he do something stupid like this?” I asked Kyle, who’d picked me up from the subway and drove me home just to have this conversation. He informed me that one of my best friends, Jay Crawford, had escaped from prison and was on the run with a $20,000 bounty on his head.
“That seems to be the million-dollar question, Al,” Kyle replied, pulling up in front of my house. His face was tense, like he was carrying the weight of the world. “I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid and get himself killed.”
“Tell me about it.” I sighed, genuinely concerned. Jay had always been a wild card, even as a kid. “You, Wil, and Jay are the only family I have left, other than Cassie.”
Kyle and I sat in his car silently, each of us lost in thoughts of our fugitive friend, until I reached for the door handle and he grabbed my wrist.
“Hey, there’s still a chance the marshals might be contacting you like they did to me and Wil. You be careful. These guys have orders to shoot first and ask questions later.” He gave me the sternest of looks.
“I will, but I doubt I’m even on their radar,” I told him, and he nodded his agreement. The only reason we could both be so confident was because, unlike him and Wil, I’d never gone to see Jay in prison or spoken to him on the phone. I’d wanted to. Hell, twice I even drove down to North Carolina, where he spent his first three years incarcerated, but I just couldn’t bring myself to see the closest person I had to a brother locked up like that. I did, however, give Kyle money to put in his commissary every month and a gift package every holiday, but nothing was ever in my name or official.
“Oh, and Al, if by chance Jay tries to contact you, tell him to stay away from my house and my office if he doesn’t want to get caught. Wil’s too. They’ve got people watching us.”
I nodded then stepped out of the car, heading up the walkway. I hadn’t gone five feet before Kyle beeped his horn, rolling down his window with a goofy grin on his face. “Hey, on a happier note, how are things in paradise?”
“Everything’s great. Couldn’t be better.” I was now grinning too. Kyle and Wil were always teasing me about my eight-month marriage. Cassie and I were the butt of every newlywed joke you could imagine. “Cassie’s home. Why don’t you come on in? I’ll throw a couple of steaks on the grill and we can throw back some cold ones like the old days.”
“Wish I could, but Lisa’s been on the warpath ever since the marshals showed up at the house. I spend any time away from her and she’ll think I’m conspiring with Jay. I’m going to take her and the girls out to the Melting Pot for dinner, see if I can get her off my back. Besides, don’t nobody wanna be around you and Cassie with all that over-the-top kissy-face shit y’all be doing,” He laughed, joking about how affectionate we were in public.
“What’s the matter? You jealous?” I asked with a smirk.
“Damn right I’m jealous.” He shook his head, looking disgusted. No man loved his wife more than Kyle loved Lisa, but my friend was an ass man, and no one had an ass like my wife. Fuck, nobody had a body like Cassie, period, that we knew personally. She was one of those women that had really big tits, a tiny waist, and shapely oversized hips that almost looked cartoonish, like Jessica Rabbit. Not to be bragging on the missus, but when she walked in the room, she turned heads—men and women.
“She’s still sucking your dick without being prompted, isn’t she?” he asked.
“Of course. She loves giving me head.”
“Well, brother, you better enjoy that shit while you can, ’cause I’m here to tell you, it’s not gonna last forever.” There was no hiding the jealousy in his tone. “My wife ain’t sucked my dick without being encouraged in fifteen years, unless it was my birthday, our anniversary, or she’s pissed me the fuck off real bad.”
“Stop hating, Kyle.” I laughed.
“I’m not hating, Al. I’ve been married twenty years. I’m just predicting your future. You’re no different than the rest of us, and neither is your wife.”
I could hear him laughing as he pulled out of the driveway, and I made my way to the house feeling good about my current situation—at least the sexual part. The rest of it, well, that was something I needed to talk to my wife about.
“Cassie,” I called out when I entered the house. I was home early, and I was actually a little surprised she wasn’t laid out on the sofa watching Maury, Steve Wilkos, or Jerry Springer. My wife loved herself some trash TV.
With no sign of her on the first floor, I went directly to our bedroom on the second floor. I entered just as the master bedroom shower stopped. The idea of Cassie being naked behind that door sent half the blood in my body straight to my groin.
I’d met Cassie a little less than four years ago, when she was working at the Library on Liberty Boulevard. She was this exotically beautiful biracial woman who really seemed to have her shit together, not just a pretty face with a dynamite body. I was so impressed that I’d gone to see her almost every day after work, and eventually we started going out for some very expensive dinners. Despite our sixteen-year age difference, she’d won my heart right away, and I pursued her like I’d done for no other woman. Not that she reciprocated my desire. For the first year, she made it very clear we weren’t dating, although we did hook up a few times after a late night of partying. For the most part, it was more like we were hanging out and I had to pay. Not that I minded. Just being around her made me feel special; that is, until other guys started showing up and making their presence felt. Some of them were like me, hopelessly in love with the finest woman they’d ever seen, while others were just straight up players after her body.
After a year, I finally worked up the courage to ask her where things were going between us. That’s when she gave me the “I love you like a brother” speech and dropped the bomb on my head that she was moving in with some thug from Hollis, Queens. Well, to say I was devastated is an understatement, but that didn’t stop me from continuing to visit her at work. What stopped me from seeing her was when her boyfriend’s jealousy got out of hand. I tried to ignore him, but eventually an altercation ensued. I would have loved to call it a fight, but he whipped my ass so bad it would have been unfair to him to call it anything other than a massacre. I didn’t get in one punch.
Needless to say, that was the last time I saw Cassie, until she showed up at my doorstep two years later, beaten half to death. She wouldn’t let me take her to the hospital or call the police. It took me almost two months to nurse her back to health, but she finally recovered, telling everyone she could that I had saved her life. On Valentine’s Day of that year, she slipped into my bed, told me she loved me, and then asked me to marry her. I accepted, on one condition: that she stopped working at the Library and went back to school. She reluctantly agreed, and neither of us had regretted that decision—until today.
“Allen.” The sound of Cassie’s voice, along with the warm jasmine-scented steam flowing out of the bathroom and seducing my nostrils, snapped me out of my memories of our early years.
Cassie stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in an oversized white towel with her head wrapped in another towel. She reached up with her right hand and removed the towel covering her head, shaking out her dark, shoulder-length hair. At that moment, she looked like she could have been on a
Sports Illustrated
photo shoot. Every time I saw my wife, I was still stunned by her exotic beauty, as if I were seeing her for the first time.
“I wasn’t expecting you home so early,” she said.
“I’m sure you weren’t, but I wanted to surprise you.”
She took a step into my personal space, kissing me with those succulent lips of hers. She slid her tongue into my mouth, and I could taste mint. As much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t resist. I kissed her back, enjoying the sensation for a minute before I pulled back to speak my mind.
“Yeah, I wanted to surprise you the same way I was surprised when I went to take my boss out to lunch this afternoon and my debit card didn’t work.”
“Oh, shit.” Her eyes opened wide as she took a step back, her body language screaming her guilt.
I may have acted like everything was fine for Kyle, but I’d come home to deal with what was becoming a constant problem.
“Allen . . .” she started.
“Yes.
Oh, shit
is right. Pretty fucking embarrassing, huh?” I snapped sarcastically, raising my voice just enough to hold her attention.
If there was one thing I hated, it was confrontation, especially with Cassie because I really did love her. But this time she’d left me no choice.
“So I called the bank to see what the problem was. You know what they told me?” I studied her face, and her expression revealed that she definitely did know. “They told me that I didn’t have any money on my card because my beautiful wife—oh, and they mentioned how beautiful you were continually—withdrew five thousand dollars from my checking account.”
She started gushing desperately, “Don’t be mad at me, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have called you. Let me make it up to you, please.” Cassie took hold of my wrists, placing them on her hips so the towel she had wrapped around her fell to the ground. My eyes traveled up and down her nakedness, resting on her most distinctive feature.
My wife’s smooth, almond-colored body was not just beautiful and sexy; it was a flawless canvas that had appeared on the covers of both
Maxim
and
Ink
magazines because of the bright green serpent tattoo that wrapped around her right leg then made its way up her thigh and across her ass and back, over her left shoulder, stopping on her left breast as the head of a cobra. Her right breast was tattooed with a bright red apple.
I’m not really a tattoo guy; it’s just not my thing, but her snake was like nothing I’d ever seen before, and even when I was mad, the damn thing seemed to hypnotize me. I couldn’t help but stare as she reached between my legs and began unbuckling my belt.
“No, no, no, I’m not going to let you do this. I know what you’re trying to do, and we are not going to deal with this in the bedroom. I’m not going to allow it,” I said, forcing myself to resist what my body wanted so badly.
“Not going to allow what?” She laughed, sliding to her knees as she held my erect penis in her soft hands.
“Stop. I mean it, Cassie,” I protested weakly, placing my hand on her forehead. My palm barely made contact with her head, communicating just how conflicted I was about really wanting her to stop.
“So what are you saying? You’re not going to allow me to suck your dick?” She shook her head at me pitifully, not giving me a chance to react before my penis was completely engulfed in her mouth. At that point, all I could do was let out a moan.
Less than five minutes later, I was laid out on the bed with my pants around my ankles, moaning like a little boy as my wife worked to bring me to orgasm. I opened my eyes and looked down. It just so happened to be the same time Cassie was looking up at me. The sensual look in her eyes as I watched her firecracker red lips molest the head of my dick sent electric shocks throughout my body. How had I ended up with such a stunningly beautiful, bright woman, who was great in bed and great at giving head? It was a question I’d asked myself a million times.
“Oh God.” My chest was heaving as I threw my head back and looked up to the heavens. Call it blasphemy if you want, but I had to thank God as my body exploded in pleasure.
“Mmmm,” Cassie moaned as she kissed and licked her way up my belly and to my chest. Once she made it past my neck and chin, she pressed her lips against mine, then pulled back and said, “You’re not still mad at me, are you?”
Until she brought it up, I’d honestly forgotten that I’d come home to confront her. Cassie’s head game was just that good. “I don’t know what I am. Why would you take my money?”
“Allen, please, I’m sorry about your lunch, but I didn’t take your money. I took our money.” She tried to kiss me, but I resisted. “But if it will make things better between us, I’ll put every nickel back in the account,” she said sadly.
“No.” I was so damn frustrated. She made me so weak with almost no effort on her part. “I want you to tell me why you stole my money.”
“Stole? Is that what you call it when a wife takes money out of a joint account to try and better herself? Stealing?” She glared at me angrily. It was a look I almost never saw from her. She was usually a pretty agreeable person, which made for a peaceful home. But not now. Now she was pissed. She walked over to the dresser and brought back an envelope. “Here.”
“What’s this?” I asked, opening the envelope.
“It’s a cashier’s check for five thousand dollars made out to York College. They have a special program I got accepted to for people like me, who are misplaced in the workforce. I was trying to surprise you. I wasn’t going to bring it up until tonight, because I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to make you proud. You did say you’d pay for me to go to school and further my education, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.” My shoulders sagged with regret. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.
“Well, don’t worry about it. I don’t need you to pay for me to go to school. I can get my old job back anytime I want. I thought you were different, Allen.” On that note, she walked out of the room, making me feel like a horse’s ass. All I could do was jump up with the check in my hand, following after her, begging.
“Baby, baby, please, please! I’m sorry. You can have the money. You can have all my money.”