UNPRETTY SECRETS Urban Fiction Teresa D. Patterson Joshua “Dream” Parker is keeping something inside. Once his world collides with Chancy Witherspoon, that “something” is threatened to be revealed when Joshua rejects Chancy’s romantic overtures. Will Joshua result to murder to protect his image? Stacia Watkins-Murray has to move back home with her mother, Grace Watkins, after her marriage to Michael Murray turns abusive. She hates the fact that she and her six year old twins are at her mother’s mercy. Grace Watkins has anything but grace when it comes to her daughter and grandchildren. Stacia and the twins have to experience Grace’s wrath until the day Stacia gets fed up. Which mother will be left standing? You will be amazed at the lengths some will go through to cover up their unpretty secrets. .
***ADVISORY*** This excerpt contains sexual content, adult language and situations that are not suitable for young readers. I recommend this for mature, adult audiences only. Read at your own risk.
Chapter One Joshua Parker attempted to tune out the noise of the boisterous clients in the hair salon where he worked as a stylist. His mind subdued, he just wanted to get through the day. He was in his own world; his own zone. Known as one of the best male hair stylists in St Pete., he could curl and flat iron hair with his eyes closed. He worked on a woman’s hair who sat in his stylist chair, paying careful attention to detail, even though he appeared to be distracted. The women of the salon had nicknamed him “Dream” because every woman dreamed of snagging a man as fine as Joshua. He stood six feet one, weighed a hundred and ninety pounds, and had a baby-smooth dark chocolate complexion, and honey colored bedroom eyes. His muscular physique indicated he participated in regular work outs at a gym. However, it wasn’t just the physical aspects of him that held the women’s interest. Joshua also worked every day that the salon was open, coming in early and often staying late to appease his clients. He was even-tempered, mildmannered, and always had a kind word for everyone. Joshua tried his best to avoid gossiping and talking behind people’s back. To sum things up, he came to work, gave it one hundred percent, did it with a pleasant attitude and minded his own business.
He went about the task of flat ironing the client’s hair as he daydreamed. The bells above the door sounded, signaling the arrival of a customer. When Joshua glanced up at the guy who’d just walked in, it startled him. He made the mistake of touching the hot iron to the lady’s scalp. “Shit,” she howled. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You burned me,” she yelled, turning around in the swivel chair to glare at him as if she wanted to fight. Under normal circumstances, Joshua would do everything in his power to pacify his customer, but his focus was on something else. “Ma’am, I am so sorry. Can you give me a minute to take care of something? I will be right back.” He didn’t wait to hear her response. Instead, he approached the new client who had taken a seat, crossed his legs and was staring at him with his lips pursed. Joshua recognized the, “What you gonna do now?” expression and hissed in the other man’s ear, “Outside. Now.” The guy offered no objections as he stood and went back out the door he’d just entered with Joshua in tow. Once outside the establishment, Joshua led the guy to the far end of the parking lot, away from prying eyes and bionic ears. His gaze darted left to right. He wanted to be certain no one would be able to eavesdrop on the conversation he was about to have. Once he’d determined the coast was clear, he shoved the guy in the chest, causing him to stagger a few steps backwards.
“How the fuck did you find out where I work, Chancy? Are you stalking me now?” He glared at the thinner, shorter guy, itching to slap the smug look off his face. “Man, please. Last time I heard, this was a free country. I can patronize any beauty shop I want to. So, I chose to come here. You got a problem with it?” Chancy placed his hand on his hip. “I know you do not want me to clown out here, so you better keep your hands to yourself,” he warned. Joshua tried to swallow down his anger, but he was still livid. He didn’t appreciate the stunt Chancy had pulled. “You’re just here to annoy me. Look, you showing up here will not make me change my mind about what I said the last time I saw you. I told you, what happened between us was a mistake. I was drunk and things got out of hand. It will never happen again.” He couldn’t even look Chancy in the eye as he spoke; a burning sense of shame washed over him. “I’m not that way,” he ended. “Oh really?” Chancy’s eyes flashed. “You weren’t denying being that way when you were digging off in my ass the other night, now were you?” He did an exaggerated neck roll, which further incensed Joshua. “As I recall, you enjoyed every minute of it. Now, don’t get beside yourself. You need to stop fronting. You can’t just tell me it’s over and stop answering my calls and texts. It doesn’t work that way, booboo.”
“Oh really?” Joshua snarled clenching and unclenching his fist. “Yes, really,” he said with conviction, not backing down from the cold glare in Joshua’s eyes. “It’s not over until I say so. If you don’t want everyone and their mamas to know how you really get down, I suggest you be at my place tonight at eight o’clock…sharp, or else. Oh, and bring the KY Jelly. It’s going down.” He pursed his lips, gave Joshua the once-over, snapped his fingers and strutted off. Joshua’s eyes burned as he watched Chancy leave. He envisioned picking up a brick and hurling it into the back of Chancy’s head. It was a good thing there were no loose bricks in his sight. He’d probably burst Chancy’s head open like an overripe tomato. Damn. I can’t believe this dick-in-the-booty loving nigga is really trying to blackmail my ass, Joshua thought. How the hell did he find out where I work? He stood outside for a while, just inhaling and exhaling, attempting to calm his nerves. Finally, after about ten minutes, he went back inside the salon to finish his customer’s hair. His mood had sunk even lower. Can this day get any worse? He thought. Of course it could.
Joshua ended up giving the client a discount on her hair style because she wouldn’t shut up about him burning her. By the time he’d finished, he wanted to stuff a lace front wig down her throat or shove a hot comb up her ass. He let out an audible breath of relief when she finally left the salon. Between Chancy’s threats and the woman’s complaints, Joshua had about all he could take for one day. If any of the other stylists noticed Joshua was having a rough day, no one mentioned it. They kept their focus on their own clients because it was a very busy day. No one else wanted to make the mistake of burning their customer too and losing out on money. Vanessa Hugabook, the owner of St. Pete’s Sadity Hair Salon, walked in and everyone groaned. Once again, the time to collect the booth fees had arrived. “I don’t know what y’all tripping for,” Vanessa said. “Y’all know I’m going to ask about my money. Closed mouths don’t get fed.” “More like closed legs,” Georgetta Flanagan mumbled as Vanessa disappeared in the back room. “And that hoe always got hers open,” she cracked causing everyone in the salon to erupt in laughter. “She just need her money so she can go to the next male revue and stuff it down some stripper’s gstring.”
“Did I hear someone say stripper?” Vanessa asked returning. “Is there a male revue closer than Miami? I don’t want to drive that far just to see some dick slanging.” “I’m sure you’ll find a stripper who’ll be more than happy to let you bounce up on his dick and make it worth the trip,” Georgetta said. “What are you insinuating?” Vanessa asked, batting her eyelashes and feigning innocence. “You know I ain’t insinuating nothing. I’m telling the damn truth.” Georgetta wasn’t one to hold back her words for fear of offending anyone. She really was one of those types of women who had an “I-don’t-give-a-shit” attitude. She said whatever she wanted to, and she didn’t bite her tongue, either. “So, what happened at the last show?” Even though she gave Vanessa hell about staying in the strip clubs, she couldn’t wait to hear the latest gossip about what when on. “Oooooooo girl, girl, girl!" Vanessa’s face became animated as she prepared to tell everyone the juicy gossip. “Dream, you may want to cover your ears when I talk about this,” she told Joshua then turned back to the ladies. “I know y’all remember The Real Housewives of Atlanta, right?” “Hell yes. That’s my show,” Georgetta said. “I can’t wait until next season to see what my girl, Nene will be up to.”
“Anyway,” Vanessa interrupted. “Do y’all remember the episode when Phaedra hired that male stripper for Kandi’s birthday party?” “Are you talking ‘bout the one who could put his own ding-a-ling in his mouth?” Georgetta’s client asked and Vanessa nodded. “That’s the one. Girl, he was at Whiskey North last night. He showed out. I thought they were exaggerating about him being able to suck his own thing—but he sure can. Watching him do that just did something to me!” Georgetta frowned. “Ugg. I think that’s nasty as hell. How you gonna try to kiss somebody after you done sucked ya own dick?” Everyone within earshot burst into laughter. “I don’t think I’d want to see that.” She gave an exaggerated shiver and shook her head. “I had no problem looking,” Vanessa said. “I even got exclusive footage on videotape,” she teased. “You sure you don’t want to see?” “I sure do,” Georgetta’s client said. “Let me make sure I got the right video,” Vanessa said as she sifted through the videos on her cell phone. “I wouldn’t want y’all to see any of my personal ones by mistake.” She giggled. Georgetta rolled her eyes. “We don’t wanna see that amateur porn either.”
“I see you got jokes. An amateur I am not,” Vanessa bragged. “Anyway, here’s the footage I caught,” she told the customer, handing her the iPhone so she could view it. “Oh my word,” the lady exclaimed as her eyes widened. “He actually is sucking on his own— uhhhhh weeee!!!! And is that whip cream?” Georgetta couldn’t help craning her neck to catch a sneak peek. Even her bottom lip dropped. “I see you looking on the sly,” Vanessa said. “Thought it was nasty?” “It is nasty. But I can admit, it’s fascinating to see somebody do that. Shoot, I ain’t gonna even lie. Well, damn!” Her customer forgotten, she focused her full attention to the male stripper in the video. “Wow. He is really flexible. How the hell does he do that?”
Joshua’s mind whirled. He had blocked the women’s squeals, laughter and giggles out as his thoughts turned to Chancy and his threats. He’d surmised the threats weren’t idle due to the fact Chancy had found his place of employment. He hated the fact he’d let himself get carried away a few days prior. He’d acted out of character and now he was afraid his indiscretion would come back to haunt him.
He’d never anticipated hooking up with another man, even though he had entertained the thought from time to time. However, he’d never acted on his impulses until the infamous day in question. He’d actually met Chancy on Craigslist, of all places. Curiosity had gotten the best of him, and he’d gone online to search the personal ads, looking for men who were interested in other men. One ad had captured his his attention right away: Do You Want To Stir Your Peanut Butter In My Jelly? Bottom looking for straight male to turn on and out. If you’re a straight male looking to try a different experience, I’m your guy. Very discreet. No strings attached. He’d been captivated by that ad and had gotten the nerve to contact the person after some hesitation. Now, he regretted ever responding to the advertisement—ever going online and searching Craigslist, for that matter. If only he could turn back the hands of time. Chancy had seemed to be an alright guy. His proclamation of being “discreet” and the “no strings attached” had been bogus. As soon as Joshua stopped returning his calls and texts, Chancy had reacted like a scorned little bitch. He’d left several
texts threatening to expose Joshua for being a “down low” brother if he didn’t stop ignoring him. Joshua hadn’t been worried about the idle threats. Chancy didn’t know anything about him, except for the small amount of information he’d shared. He didn’t know where Joshua lived or worked. The first couple of times they’d met up in a neutral location at a club called the Rare Olive just to get a vibe on each other. The conversation had an easy flow, and neither was uncomfortable in the other’s presence. Once they’d established that they were indeed vibing, Joshua agreed to go to Chancy’s place just for drinks and conversation. Once there, Chancy played the gracious host and offered him a seat. He sat down on the creamcolored, leather love seat and surveyed the apartment. The place looked immaculate, with contemporary decorations which included a matching cream-colored sofa, glass-topped coffee table, a stereo system and a 42-inch plasma television. A bookshelf filled with a variety of Dean Koontz novels caught his eye. He wasn’t big on reading, but even he could appreciate such a prolific author as Dean Koontz. “If you’re hungry, I cooked lasagna and garlic bread. It’s fresh out the over if you want any.” Joshua declined. “I’ll just take the drink,” he said. Chancy headed to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Hennessy, a 2 liter of Coke and a
glass filled with ice cubes. He sat it on the table in front of Joshua. “Just help yourself. I don’t know how strong you like your drink,” Chancy said taking a seat on the opposite side of the room on the couch. Joshua poured himself a drink from the bottle and added a small amount of Coke to chase it. He took a swallow and tried to relax. He drummed the fingers of his vacant hand on his left thigh. Chancy cleared his throat and spoke. “You responded to my ad, so what’s up?” he asked. “I clearly stated what I was looking for. Now you’re here, and I need to be sure we are on the same page. Do you want to hook up or not?” Joshua took another swallow of his drink and nodded. “I’m not one hundred percent sure though. I’ve never done…you know. I’ve never—” “-fucked a man before,” Chancy finished his sentence. “No, I haven’t. Because, I’m not gay,” he added. “You’ve never done anything with another male? Not even engage in oral sex?” Chancy asked. “No. Nothing. I’m new to this. That’s why…I don’t know. This might not be a good idea. I think I made a mistake coming here. I can’t do this.” He placed his glass on the table and stood up.
“Oh, don’t get scared now. I won’t bite you… unless you want me to. But, I will suck you until you run dry. That’s a promise.” Joshua’s eyes bugged as he stared across the room at the feminine-looking dude. He didn’t drink often and Joshua had made his drinks strong. The alcohol had gone straight to his loins. He found himself getting uninhibited “Is that so?” he asked, sitting back down. “Um hmm. I’ll give you the best blow job you’ve ever received. I can deep-throat your dick without gagging, and I promise to swallow every single drop of you, with your super-fine ass.” Chancy piled on the flattery and flirted with Joshua with no shame. Joshua ate it up. He hadn’t met a woman that bad and bold. He found himself letting down his guard because it was just the two of them. No one he knew would ever find out he was sitting in another man’s living room, contemplating having sex with him. He became curious and wanted to find out what Chancy was working with. He’d heard that gay men had the best oral skills. “Before I agree to do anything, you have to promise me something,” Joshua told Chancy. “What, Big Daddy? I’m all ears,” Chancy said. He sat on the couch with his legs crossed. He wore skin tight white skinny jeans, and a silk white button-down shirt, with a colorful scarf tied around
his neck. He had the shirt opened, exposing his bare chest. “This can never get out. Whatever goes on behind these walls, stays behind these walls,” Joshua insisted. “I don’t need anybody to know except the two of us. Understand?” “I’m down with that. I know you so-called straight men don’t want nobody all up in y’all business. Whatever we do up in here, is our business,” Chancy emphasized. “I’m serious, man. If I do this, I don’t want anyone to know. You have to keep it to yourself.” “It’s all good, Sexy Chocolate. I’m one hundred percent in agreement. What we do will stay between just us. Now, do you want to keep talking or do you want to get down to business? I’m ready to show you I have no gag reflex.” “Is that even possible?” “I can show you better than I can tell you. Now, let me see those delicious goodies you got. My throat is parched, and I need some cream to soothe it.” It didn’t take too much coaxing for Joshua to unzip his pants and pull out his prized possession. Chancy immediately sashayed over, kneeled between his legs and suctioned his dick with overeager, extra moist lips.
He hadn’t lied; it was the best blowjob Joshua had ever received. His head rolled back as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations. He was so tipsy, he didn’t even think about the fact that another man was sucking his penis. The sounds Chancy made let him know he truly enjoyed what he was doing. That made Joshua’s dick grow harder and longer. He, indeed, swallowed every ounce of cum Joshua squirted. “Mmmmm,” Chancy purred, licking his lips as he stood. “You are working with a monster. I’d sure love to feel that inside me.” “No. I’m good with just getting some head.” Joshua pulled his underwear and pants back up. “I’m not interested in doing nothing else, especially not that,” he said as he zipped his jeans. “If that’s what you wish. But I must let you know my boy-pussy is da bomb,” Chancy bragged. “You don’t mind if I light a joint, do you?” “No, go ahead,” Joshua said. He watched Chancy switch his hips as he headed out of the room. About a minute later, he heard him calling him. “Big Daddy, come in here where you can get more comfortable.” Joshua knew if he followed Chancy into his bedroom, there’d be no turning back. He debated on whether or not to walk out the door. Did he really want to get it on with a man?
Ever since he’d reach puberty, he’d been curious about other men. He knew it wasn’t a normal curiosity, but he’d been too ashamed to explore it. He knew no one in his family would understand. He came from a family of hard men. All of his brothers and his dad were sport’s fanatics. One even played for the Tampa Bay Bucs. He couldn’t dare open his mouth and tell any of them that he might be gay. Over the years, he’d just kept it to himself and learned to hide his attraction to other men. The curiosity had crept up on him again in recent months. He’d tried to fight it, but it had led him to Craigslist searching for a man to hook up with. Now, it was the moment of truth and he had to make a decision. He got up and took a step toward the front door, but he turned and let his feet lead him to the bedroom. When he entered, he found Chancy stretched out in a king-sized bed, on top of red satin sheets, wearing a white thong. He smoked a blunt, blowing smoke rings into the air in a casual fashion. “Want a hit?” he asked, extending the joint toward Joshua. Joshua wasn’t much of a smoker, but he figured he needed something to help him do what he was about to get into. Getting buzzed might loosen him up, so he took the joint and gave it a deep pull. He took a few more puffs then gave it back to Chancy.
“Come sit down. You don’t have to be scared. I already told you I don’t bite,” Chancy teased, patting the bed. Joshua sat on the edge of the bed. “I want to do it,” he blurted out. “I know you do. I could tell from the moment I looked into your sexy bedroom eyes, that you were ‘bout it. You’re one of those men who think he’s confused, but you’re really not. You know exactly what you want, and it’s this.” Chancy got off the bed and stood facing Joshua. In a bold move, he then placed Joshua’s hands on his ass. “Touch it, squeeze it, just get a whole hand full of this juicy ass.” Joshua found himself doing exactly that. He palmed Chancy’s ass, which he had to admit was very nice and plump. He massaged it in circular motions. “Go ‘head and smack it, if you want to,” Chancy encouraged, turning around. From the back angle, Joshua could convince himself that Chancy was a woman. He had a feminine shape, possessing wide hips, a fat ass and a slim waist. He leaned forward and grasped the sides of Chancy’s white g-string, pulling them down. He stood up, unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor.
“Do you have a condom?” he asked. “Yes, I do, but let me get you nice and hard again, Big Daddy. Then I’m gonna give you the ride of your life.” Chancy sank to his knees and sucked Joshua off again until the veins in his dick pulsed. Chancy out-freaked the freakiest woman he’d ever had sex with. The boy got buck-wild. When Joshua finally slipped the head of his dick into Chancy’s’s tight chute, he moaned like a little bitch and almost came on the spot. Chancy had to back off of him and let him catch his bearings. When he slid in it again, he paced himself. Something overcame him and he just went ham, banging into Chancy’s backend, sliding in as far as he could go and slamming it to the hilt. Chancy took it like a pro. “That’s it, Big Daddy. Fuck me in my ass. Fuck this tight ass. Get that nut,” Chancy encouraged. His moans filled the room as he clutched the satin sheets in his hands. He threw his ass back and tooted it up to take everything Joshua gave him. Joshua grabbed Chancy by the hips and sped up the strokes. He could hear his nuts slapping against Chancy’s ass as he pumped into him. He roared as his hot semen erupted into the Magnum. Chancy screamed as he climaxed at the same time. Both men fell onto the bed, exhausted. Joshua rolled away from Chancy’s sweat-drenched body like he’d been burned by a hot potato. He hoped he
wasn’t going to ask him to snuggle and cuddle with him. He experienced a deep self-loathing knowing he had just enjoyed having sex with another man. Thinking about what he’d allowed to happen made him lose his temporary high. He crashed back into reality with a thud. “Man, I can’t ever do no shit like that again,” he said, hurrying to pull his boxers and pants on. “That’s what they all say,” Chancy said, raising a brow as he stared at Joshua. He seemed to be purring like a satisfied Cheshire cat. “I’m serious. I’m not gay. I was just curious about how it would be,” Joshua explained. “That’s all.” “Um hmm.” Chancy gave him a knowing glance. “Now that you’ve had your first piece, you’ll be back for more.” “No, I won’t be back. Let’s just get that clear.” Joshua was fully dressed, and he turned to face Chancy. “Look, you’re a cool dude and all, but let’s leave this right here. I was curious about something. I tried it. I’m done.” Chancy clucked. “The down low brothers are always in such denial—at first.” “Man, I’m not down low. I like fucking women,” Joshua insisted.
“You liked fucking this boy-pussy too. No, correction: you loved fucking this boy-pussy. Now go on back to living your fake life, fucking women when you know you crave boy-pussy. You will never be happy until you come out of the closet, boo.” Chancy relit the joint he’d placed on the nightstand. He took a puff and inhaled. “So, when can I see you again?” Joshua gave him an incredulous look. “Didn’t you hear anything I just said? I’m not going to fuck you again.” “We’ll see, boo,” Chancy said, He exhaled the marijuana smoke with a smug smile. *** Joshua snapped out of his reverie when he heard the ladies in the saloon whooping and hollering. He looked up to see that some of them had gathered around Vanessa to look at the recorded stripper-thon she’d attended. “Oh my God,” one woman exclaimed. “He got way too much penis in the crotch area.” “The bigger the better. Bring it on,” another woman said. “I’d ride out on that. Vanessa, let me know where the next show is gonna be ‘cause I gots to see that one. He is fine.” “They’re all fine girl,” Vanessa said. “I love me some strippers. I don’t care what nobody think or say; they just excite me.”
Joshua’s mind switched back to Chancy. He’d meet him at eight, and he’d give him a beat down. However, it wouldn’t be the type of beat down Chancy would be hoping for.
Chapter Two “Welcome to St. Pete’s Sadity Hair Salon, where we cater to the bougie bitches, the wannabe-bougie bitches and the never-gonna-be-bougie bitches. We can hook up your hairdo, but we can’t do a damn thing about your funky ass attitude,” Georgetta said, putting away her supplies and getting ready to clean her station. She was mad because her last client had stiffed her on a hairdo. She’d worked on the woman’s head for over two hours, trying to please her. In the end, the woman turned up her nose and said she still didn’t like the hairstyle. “That bitch does that almost every time she come in here to get her hair done,” Georgetta complained. “I’m not fucking with her ass no more. She can get another hairstylist because I’m not in the business of doing work for free. Wasn’t nothing wrong with that hair style or the fifty other ones I tried either.” “I thought the first wrap you did was cute on her,” Vanessa said. She was sitting at one of the empty stations in a shrivel chair eating Church’s chicken. The aroma of fried chicken floated in the air. She had turned on the stereo and Mary J. Blige’s latest, Enough Cryin had her grooving in the seat. “That hoe just broke and needed a new do for the club tonight. That’s all. Can you believe she’d rather sit in the dark and go without running water, because she wanna perpetrate and front in that
Mercedes she’s driving? She’ll let her damn electric and water get cut off just so she can stunt around in that shit. Tryna impress other people who don’t matter any damn way. She is so stupid. After today, I’m so through with her.” She glanced toward Joshua who was spraying Windex on his mirror and wiping it down with paper towels. “Dream, you been mighty quiet today. You alright over there?” she called to him. “Yeah, I’m good,” Joshua said. “I just got a headache.” He went back to cleaning his work area. “Um hmm,” Georgetta said under her breath as soon as he turned his back. She squinted her eyes and curled her lip. Probably more like a dick ache she thought. With yo’ nasty ass. Unbeknownst to Joshua, Georgetta had overheard the exchange between him and the gay guy who’d come into the salon earlier. For some reason, she always ended up in the wrong place at the right time. In this instance, she’d run out of moisturizing shampoo and had to go get another container out of her trunk. She’d parked around the back of the building because the lot had been full of customers earlier. When she’d gone to her car, she’d overheard angry raised voices. Being the nosey person that she was, she had to find out who was arguing. She’d tip-toed to the edge of the building and peered around the corner. She saw Joshua and the
gay dude engaged in a heated discussion. Since she was no more than five feet away from them, she’d heard each and every word. Her ears had been burning when she’d gone back inside with the shampoo. She glanced at Joshua again who took extreme care and paid attention to detail as he cleaned his clippers. Now she knew why Joshua never talked about any women, why he didn’t have a girlfriend and why he’d flat out turned her down when she’d tried to get with him. An evil chuckle escaped her as she swept up hair off the floor of the salon. Joshua “the Dream” Parker was now caught up in a nightmare. She wondered if he was going to show up at dude’s house at eight o’clock. She shook her head and sighed. She was still pissed off about being rejected by him. She’d convinced herself that he was just stuck up, but now she knew the truth. She stopped sweeping and gave Joshua a heated look that he missed because he had bent over to get the full garbage bag out of the trash can. She watched him with a sinking heart as he walked out the door to take the trash to the dumpster. What a waste of a fine ass nigga, she thought. The things I would do to him if he’d just give me a chance. But no. He’d rather be fucking a man.
“I’m about to head out y’all,” Vanessa told them. “Stacia, don’t forget to set the alarm since you’ll probably be the last one leaving tonight. See y’all next week when it’s time to collect my dough,” she said. Stacia nodded at Vanessa and went back to braiding her client’s hair. She would be there all night and that was fine with her. She couldn’t stand her living situation at the moment. She just needed to have patience. With only eight hundred dollars in her checking account, she couldn’t really afford to move from her mother’s house just yet. She would try to give it another two months and save every cent she made, but it was getting harder and harder to put up with her mother’s rage. This morning had been a prime example. She’d left the twins alone long enough to go take a shower and when she’d returned, her mother was giving her the look. “Stacia, I was kind enough to let you bring your ass back here and to bring your little bastards with you. But I’m not going to tolerate them fucking up my shit,” she snapped, holding out a tube of red lipstick. “That little trifling bitch wrote on my damn wall with this lipstick. What are you going to do about it?” “I’ll clean it up, Mama. I’m sorry.” Stacia began to tremble inside with fear. Once Grace got crunk up, there would be no stopping her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized again.
“Yes, that you are,” Grace spat, her eyes slanting. “You’re a sorry piece of shit.” Her right hand came up and she proceeded to repeatedly slap Stacia in her face until she was satisfied she’d gotten her point across. “Don’t let it happen again. Keep your little monsters in line,” she hissed. “I shouldn’t have to look after them. They’re yours, not mine.” “Okay, Mama. I will,” Stacia sobbed, holding her stinging jaw. “I’m sorry.” “Get out of my sight before I go upside your head again,” Grace growled. Stacia rushed into the bedroom that she shared with her children. She hurriedly wiped away the tears so they wouldn’t see them. However, they could pick up on the feeling that something was wrong. Both of them went over to their mother and gave her a hug. “Is grandma mad again?” Titianna asked. “She’s always mad,” Terry said. “Mama, why do Grandma hate us? What did we do?” When Stacia stared down into her children’s sad faces, she couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks. She didn’t know why Grace Watkins hated her children, but she did know why her mother hated her.
“That one’s a little too tight.” The customer’s voice broke into Stacia’s reverie. “Excuse me?” she asked. “I said that braid you just finished doing is too tight. It feels like it’s pulling at my brain. The other ones aren’t that tight. Could you do it over, please?” “Oh, I’m sorry ma’am. No problem.” She busied herself taking the braid out and rebraiding it. She knew she needed to snap out of it and pay attention to what she was doing. She didn’t want any customer’s complaints. She wanted them to be satisfied with her work so they’d return. She was still establishing her clientele, being new at St. Pete’s Sadity. So far, she only had a handful of customers, but she was able to make it because she only braided hair. They were willing to pay the prices she’d set because she charged a little less than braiders at competing salons in the area. Stacia stared into space with vacant eyes as she continued to braid the woman’s hair. She was so unhappy. Except for the twins, her life had no joy. She and the twins had to be at her mother’s mercy because of her worthless husband, Michael. When she thought of him, a burning rage overtook her entire being. She wished more than anything that Michael Murray would die a slow death, drop straight down and burst the bottom out of hell. He was the devil incarnate, and she hated
him with a passion. She hated him—almost as much as she hated her mother.
Chapter Three Joshua’s anger increased as he drove toward Chancy’s place. His foot hit the accelerator as he thought of ways to beat Chancy senseless in order to make him keep his mouth shut. When he realized he’d been driving twenty miles over the speed limit, he let up off the pedal and slowed the vehicle down. He had to remind himself that the Gulfport PD didn’t play. They’d ticket your ass for driving five miles over the designated limit and getting pulled over was the last thing he needed. Looking through his review mirror, he breathed a sigh of relief. No cops. In less than three minutes, he’d entered St. Pete’s city limits, where the cops were more lax on speeding drivers. He still didn’t want a ticket, though. He exhaled and tried to contain the rage as he pulled up in front of Chancy’s house. He couldn’t believe the nerve of Chancy to try and blackmail him into having sex with him again. He wondered how the dude had found out where he worked. Thinking about Chancy showing up at St. Pete’s Sadity only further infuriated him. “What kind of slimy motherfucker are you?” he asked as soon as Chancy answered his knock. “Well, hello to you too, Big Daddy.” Chancy blew him a kiss and opened the door wider so he could come inside. He made sure to stand in the
way so Joshua had to brush up against him to get past. Joshua entered, frowning at Chancy in disgust. He didn’t know what he’d seen in the guy in the first place. Thinking back on the night they’d had sex made his his stomach churn. “I see you came and you’re on time, too,” Chancy said. “I’m impressed. I thought I was gonna have to let everybody in on your little secret. That’s why I just love Facebook.” “What? Are you serious? What exactly was you going to put on Facebook about me? Man, don’t you know that I have family, friends and business clients on there? Nigga, you better not ever put nothing out about me on Facebook. I’ll fuck you up.” Joshua could feel his temperature rising. He had to count to ten to try and calm down. Meanwhile, Chancy walked over to the leather couch and sat down. “You might as well have a seat and calm down. I fixed you a drink, too. So, let’s just relax, relate, release,” he said, giving Joshua a teasing wink. Joshua let out the deep breath he’d been holding in. He sat down on the love seat on the opposite side of the room. “Man, what the fuck do you want from me?” he asked, snatching up the glass of Hennessy Chancy
had poured. He downed it in a few gulps. His nerves were stretched near the breaking point. He figured drinking would take off the edge. He was wrong. “Would you like another drink?” Chancy asked. “Yeah,” he said. “How the hell did you find out where I work?” he wondered aloud. “Well, I pride myself on getting to know the men I allow to fuck me. Unbeknownst to you, while I rode your dick, I spotted your wallet on the corner of the bed.” He shrugged. “It must have fallen out your pocket when you took off your slacks. So, while I bounced up and down on your meat, driving you insane with pleasure, I grabbed the wallet and glanced at your driver’s license.” He smiled with pride. “I have a telegraphic memory so the address was immediately embedded in my brain. With that information, I found out everything I needed to know. Mr. Joshua Emmanuel Parker, I knew you’d be back in my bed—one way or another.” He stood up. “Let me get you some more ice.” He headed to the kitchen as Joshua stared at him dumbfounded. “I just can’t believe this shit,” he muttered under his breath. He should have been more careful. He’d been caught up in the moment and hadn’t considered Chancy might do something so sneaky and underhanded. “I need to use the bathroom,” Joshua managed to say.
“Go ahead. I hope you’ll be ready for me when you come out. This time, I want you to service me.” “What the hell do you mean?” Joshua called. He couldn’t mean what he thought. Chancy reentered the room with the ice. “What I’m saying is that I enjoy getting my dick sucked just as much as you do.” He didn’t miss the look of disgust Joshua tossed his way. “Ain’t no need to curl your lip at me. It is what it is. Now, go ahead and do what you need to in there and come on back. I’ll be ready for you to return the favor I gave you the other night.” Today, Chancy only wore a red no-fly string men’s bikini and fluffy bedroom slippers. His hair was permed, and he’d slicked it back with styling gel. He resembled a ghetto, hood rat chick on Section 8. There was nothing attractive about him at the moment. “You like what you see?” Chancy smiled at him and struck a seductive pose. Joshua turned his back and hurried into the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, Joshua leaned back against the closed door. He wanted to punch a hole in the wall, smash the mirror or turn over something. He was livid. How dare that motherfucker try me like that? I’m not sucking no other man’s dick. He got me fucked up.
“Man, what the fuck did I do? Why didn’t I just stay in the closet? This is a fucked up situation,” he said aloud as he looked at himself in the mirror. “Big Daddy, I’m waiting,” he heard Chancy call. “There’s some Vaseline in the medicine cabinet that you can use. I need your lips soft, baby,” he taunted. All of a sudden, Joshua saw red. He turned the knob on the door and opened to head back into the living room. His eyes landed on the terry cloth bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. Without being aware of doing so, he grabbed the belt of the robe and pulled it free. He coiled each end tightly around both his hands, leaving it slack in the middle. When he entered the living room he saw Chancy bent over putting a CD into the CD slot on the high-tech stereo system. “That’s what’s up,” Chancy said, when the music blared out of the speakers. “Baby, I’ma be your motivation,” he sang. Excited, he began swaying his narrow hips and snapping his fingers to the tempo, oblivious to the fact Joshua had crept up behind him. Joshua approached Chancy and wrapped the belt around his neck. Joshua applied pressure which cut off Chancy’s scream. He pulled tighter and tighter as Chancy struggled to breathe. The other man began clawing at the belt in desperation, trying
to remove it, but Joshua pulled even tighter making escape impossible. “You think you gonna expose me? Huh nigga?” Joshua hissed in Chancy’s ear as he continued to struggle and try to get away. “That’s not gonna happen. This is my life. I’ll tell people about my sexuality when and if I’m ready to tell. It’s not up to you, you fucking punk.” Chancy’s eyes bulged as the oxygen supply to his brain was s being cut off. Knowing that he would die soon, he began to fight with the strength he had left. An intense struggle ensued. The men fell onto the coffee table, causing it to crash to the floor, breaking the glass. During the struggle, Joshua lost his grip on the belt. His main thought was that Chancy would do something to protect himself since he’d attacked first. Panic set in. He couldn’t let that happen. He knew he’d have to finish what he’d started. He hurried and wrapped the belt back around Chancy’s throat. Before he could tightened it again, Chancy grabbed a wooden statue and managed to bust him in the head with it. Enraged, he began to sling Chancy’s slim body all over the place. He slammed him into the wall, then against the front door, still choking him. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry,” Chancy managed to rasp. The terror mirrored in his eyes indicated he didn’t want his life to end.
Joshua considered releasing his hold, but he’d gone too far to quit. His thoughts were on his life, his career and his family. No one could ever find out about his one indiscretion. No one ever would. He pulled on the belt with all of his strength. The light seeped out of Chancy's eyes, and his body went limp. Joshua released his hold, and Chancy slid to the floor, deader than a corpse in the morgue. When the rage subsided and reality set in, Joshua appeared to be dazed and confused. He looked around and blinked several times. Stunned, for a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. Everything rushed back, causing him to gasp at the enormity of the situation. He looked down at his trembling hands in horror. When it dawned on him what had happened, he wanted to scream. “Oh my God. What did I do? What did I do?” The fog in his mind cleared, and he remembered everything. He stood in Chancy’s apartment. Chancy was a gay dude he’d met on the internet. They’d hooked up and had sex a few days ago. Now, Chancy lay dead on his living room floor. He’d actually killed someone. He’d murdered Chancy with his bare hands, and now he didn’t know what to do. He covered his mouth with both hands to keep the sound in.
“I gotta do something.” He began to pace the floor. “I didn’t mean to kill him. Things just got out of hand, and I lost control. I didn’t mean to kill him. I didn’t mean to kill him.” He repeated it over and over until he caught himself. He realized he was tripping and needed to get it together. He couldn’t go to prison for murder. He just couldn’t. His entire life would be over if he let that happen. Watching all those episodes of Snapped and Forensic Files set him into motion. He had to clear away all traces of evidence that could prove he’d been in Chancy’s apartment. He started with the glass he’d drunk the Hennessy from. He hurried into the kitchen and washed it in the sink. He used the dish towel to wipe down the sink and counter top. He went back into the room and stared around. He wondered if anything else could lead back to him. He stared at the broken glass from the tabletop. His eyes honed in on the belt of the bathrobe still wound around Chancy’s neck. He forced himself to turn Chancy over and unraveled it. He tucked it into his pocket. He’d dispose of it somewhere because his DNA might be on it. He was about to leave when he remembered something. The wooden statue. He had to get that, too. His blood and DNA would be all over it. He scooped it up tossing it into the plastic bag Chancy had taken the Hennessy out of.
When he was sure he’d cleaned up everything and wiped down all the doorknobs he’d touched, he headed out with the statue tucked under his arm. He used his shirt to open the door. He glanced at Chancy’s unmoving body one last time with regret and closed the door behind him, being sure to wipe the knob free of his prints.