Page 77
Story: Killing Them Softly
"Why?"
"’Cause I needed a new look. Why you makin’ a big deal of this? I cut my fuckin’ hair. It’s no big deal."
Sometimes she can be so frustrating to deal with. She knows what I’m asking her, but she is determined to make me ask it. "Are you the woman that the police are looking for, Qianna?"
"Wait here. I wanna show you something."
Qianna got up and went in the back. When she came back, Qianna was carrying a manila envelope, and handed it to me. "What’s this?"
"Look and see."
I opened in the envelope, took out the contents, and began to read it. I knew right away that this was the information that Tyrone had gotten from the investigator he’d hired. "Where did you get this?" I asked, but I already knew. There was only one place that Qianna could have gotten it.
"Don’t worry about that. The less you know, the better it is for you. So don’t ask me shit you really don’t want to know the answer to."
"You killed them?"
Qianna looked at me and shook her head. "What I just say. Don’t ask me shit."
"But I’m asking anyway. Are you the woman the cops are looking for?"
"What you think, Avonte; that this shit just fell into my lap? Yes, I killed them."
"Oh my God." I dropped the papers on the coffee table, and buried my face in my hands.
"You should be thankin’ me. Now you don’t have to worry about that shit no more. You and me can go on livin’ like we been livin’. Shit, now that bad-ass house he threw you out of is all ours."
"What if they find you, Qianna? They have a description of you."
"You said it yourself. They lookin’ for some bitch with long black hair. That ain’t me," Qianna said, and ran her fingers through her hair.
"What about fingerprints?"
"I wiped the joint down before I left."
Once again, my head dropped into my hands and I began to cry. I was crying because I was responsible for their deaths. Responsible as if I did it myself. I may have been mad at Tyrone, mad as hell, but I didn’t want him dead.
"Look, Avonte," Qianna started, but I jerked away. "Oh, you don’t want me to touch you now?"
"I’m sorry."
I heard her cell ringing in the other room. She looked at me like she wanted to kill me, and stood up. Without saying another word, she went in the back to answer it.
While she was gone, I thought about getting up and leaving. I could hear her talking; more like arguing with whoever it was she was on the phone with, and it sounded like she would be on it for a while. I started to stick my head in the door and say, Hey, I gotta go, but that would only make her madder. And that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Qianna had already killed Tyrone and some woman he was with. I didn’t need her thinking that she had to worry about me rolling over on her.
So I sat there—like a good girl—and waited.
"Come here, Avonte," Qianna hollered from the other room. When I came into the room, Qianna was naked and laying across the bed. "Come here," she demanded, and I sat down on the bed next to her.
I didn’t know what else to do, and was too scared to do anything other than what she told me to. I sat there watching as she stood, legs spread and bent at the knees.
When she stepped in front of me, squeezing her nipples and rubbing her clit, I inhaled her scent and felt my self getting wet.
"You want this pussy; don’t even try to play like you don’t." Qianna turned quickly and jiggled her ass in my face. "I see it in your eyes, Avonte."
I wanted to say, "Fuck you, Qianna. I never want you to touch me again," but I didn’t say anything.
"’Cause I needed a new look. Why you makin’ a big deal of this? I cut my fuckin’ hair. It’s no big deal."
Sometimes she can be so frustrating to deal with. She knows what I’m asking her, but she is determined to make me ask it. "Are you the woman that the police are looking for, Qianna?"
"Wait here. I wanna show you something."
Qianna got up and went in the back. When she came back, Qianna was carrying a manila envelope, and handed it to me. "What’s this?"
"Look and see."
I opened in the envelope, took out the contents, and began to read it. I knew right away that this was the information that Tyrone had gotten from the investigator he’d hired. "Where did you get this?" I asked, but I already knew. There was only one place that Qianna could have gotten it.
"Don’t worry about that. The less you know, the better it is for you. So don’t ask me shit you really don’t want to know the answer to."
"You killed them?"
Qianna looked at me and shook her head. "What I just say. Don’t ask me shit."
"But I’m asking anyway. Are you the woman the cops are looking for?"
"What you think, Avonte; that this shit just fell into my lap? Yes, I killed them."
"Oh my God." I dropped the papers on the coffee table, and buried my face in my hands.
"You should be thankin’ me. Now you don’t have to worry about that shit no more. You and me can go on livin’ like we been livin’. Shit, now that bad-ass house he threw you out of is all ours."
"What if they find you, Qianna? They have a description of you."
"You said it yourself. They lookin’ for some bitch with long black hair. That ain’t me," Qianna said, and ran her fingers through her hair.
"What about fingerprints?"
"I wiped the joint down before I left."
Once again, my head dropped into my hands and I began to cry. I was crying because I was responsible for their deaths. Responsible as if I did it myself. I may have been mad at Tyrone, mad as hell, but I didn’t want him dead.
"Look, Avonte," Qianna started, but I jerked away. "Oh, you don’t want me to touch you now?"
"I’m sorry."
I heard her cell ringing in the other room. She looked at me like she wanted to kill me, and stood up. Without saying another word, she went in the back to answer it.
While she was gone, I thought about getting up and leaving. I could hear her talking; more like arguing with whoever it was she was on the phone with, and it sounded like she would be on it for a while. I started to stick my head in the door and say, Hey, I gotta go, but that would only make her madder. And that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Qianna had already killed Tyrone and some woman he was with. I didn’t need her thinking that she had to worry about me rolling over on her.
So I sat there—like a good girl—and waited.
"Come here, Avonte," Qianna hollered from the other room. When I came into the room, Qianna was naked and laying across the bed. "Come here," she demanded, and I sat down on the bed next to her.
I didn’t know what else to do, and was too scared to do anything other than what she told me to. I sat there watching as she stood, legs spread and bent at the knees.
When she stepped in front of me, squeezing her nipples and rubbing her clit, I inhaled her scent and felt my self getting wet.
"You want this pussy; don’t even try to play like you don’t." Qianna turned quickly and jiggled her ass in my face. "I see it in your eyes, Avonte."
I wanted to say, "Fuck you, Qianna. I never want you to touch me again," but I didn’t say anything.
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