Page 70

Tyrone grabbed me and demanded to know who I was, and who sent me. "Avonte sent you, didn’t she? You’re the bitch she’s fucking, aren’t you?" he started shaking me.
"I don’t know who you talkin’ ’bout! Take your mutha fuckin’ hands off me!" I yelled, and tried to get free.
"Who sent you?"
Tyrone reached back and slapped the fuck outta me. He hit me so hard that I fell to the floor. I got up and tried to run, but he grabbed me and hit me again. I swung at him and scratched his face. "You fucking bitch."
Tyrone came at me and I ran. While Tyrone chased me around the living room, that bitch Laurie, sipped her drink and did another line.
I ran into the kitchen looking for something to throw at him. I picked up the bottle of wine we were drinking, and threw it at him, but I missed and he kept comin’. Then I threw a frying pan at him, but he ducked. The only thing that saved me was that he was off balance when he did that. He slipped on the wine and hit the floor hard.
I grabbed a knife from the counter and dove on top of him. I pushed the knife into his chest as hard as I could. "I got your bitch."
I went back into the living room. Laurie was still powdering her nose, like nothin’ else was goin’ on around her. I went to the credenza and got my knife from my purse.
"Where’s Tyrone?" Laurie asked when she finally looked up.
"He’s on the floor in the kitchen," I said, and walked around behind her.
"What’s he doing on the floor?" her dumb-ass asked, and laughed a little.
"Waitin’ for you." I grabbed a handful of her hair, and slid my blade across her throat.
I got dressed as fast as I could, and looked around the house to see if I could find whatever he had on Avonte. I found what I was looking for on the desk in his office.
It was in a large manila envelope, and it had a lot of pictures of Avonte with me, and then there were two shots of her and Devin having dinner at some restaurant. There was also a written report of the places that Avonte and I had gone together, and the same for Devin.
Whoever made this report knew everything about Devin, but they didn’t know much about me, other than my first name. All they had on me was bad pictures of us eating, shopping, and getting in and out of her car. I took the envelope and got outta there.
Then I wiped down everything that I thought I might have touched. Then I thought about the bottle of wine I threw at Tyrone. If the cops got even a partial print off a piece of that broken glass, I’d be fucked. I went in the kitchen and picked up every piece I could find, and then got a broom to sweep up.
I left there walking, and called a cab to pick me up at the first place I got to. From there, I got a room at a motel and laid low for a couple of days; and hoped I had dodged another bid.
After a couple of days in that room, I was gettin’ bored and lonely. I needed to get out, see some people, maybe even get some dick.
And if I was gonna try and get some dick, I might as well try to get with Devin. I knew if I called him, he would probably hang up on me. So, I caught a cab and went to a bar that wasn’t too far from where he worked, to see if he was there.
When I got there, the first person I saw was Devin. He was at a table close to the bar talking to some white guy. I had started walking toward them when I got the feeling that I knew the white boy he was with. I stopped dead in my tracks when I realized that he was the white boy that I saw that night, coming out of Devin’s house.
I couldn’t be sure if he saw me and Cutie that night, and I was in no mood to find out. The last thing I needed was for him to recognize me. I started to go to the bar, but when I turned to walk away, I heard Devin call me.
"Shit."
I turned around and Devin was waving me over to their table.
"Shit," I mumbled, and went to the table.
Both men stood up when I got to the table. "What are you doing here, Qianna?"
"Maybe I was lookin’ for you."
"Winston, this is my friend Qianna," Devin said, and I waved to him.
"Nice to meet you, Qianna," Winston said, and we all sat down. It didn’t seem like the white boy recognized me. I wondered if Devin even suspected that this boy was fuckin’ his wife.
"Can I talk to you for a minute, Devin?"
"Sure. I was just getting ready get out of here anyway. Winston, I’ll see you in the morning."