The Black Market by Kiki Swinson

Author:Kiki Swinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-09-11T16:00:00+00:00

29

PARANOIA AT ITS FINEST

I sat on the floor of my living room for another thirty minutes trying to process what just happened. It was clear that Terrell was lying dead on my living room floor, but the part I couldn’t come to grips with was how I was going to clean this shit up. Was I supposed to call the cops and let them take a statement and risk getting my freedom taken from me? Fuck no! I couldn’t let that happen. Not today. Not ever!

I finally got off the floor and dragged myself to the bathroom. I tried to avoid looking at my face when I passed by the bathroom mirror, but I couldn’t. I had to see what a mess I made. “Oh my God!” were the only words I could utter. Seeing all the blood drying on my face, my hair all over my head, and the blue, black, and purple welts and marks on my neck looked horrible. And that’s when it hit me, and a floodgate of tears poured down my face as I examined the condition of my face and neck. I had to wonder what kind of man could do this to a woman? Who would hurt a woman to this degree? And for what? Because she doesn’t want to fuck you or be with you? Life is that fucked up for you?

While I stood there trying to figure out what to do, I decided that if nothing else, I needed to call Jillian and have her come over. She’d help me make the right choice. Thank God she answered on the first ring. “Hello,” she said, sounding groggy.

“I need you to come over my house right now,” I said with urgency.

“What’s wrong? Are you all right?” she asked.

“Jillian, I can’t talk over the phone. So, please come over here right now.”

“Mind if I bring Edmund? ’Cause I’m at his house.”

“No, you gotta come alone. And you gotta come now.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now,” she assured me.

Seconds after I got off the phone, I stripped down to nothing and hopped into the shower. I knew I needed to at least have myself cleaned up before Jillian got here. So, I showered for at least ten minutes and washed my hair. It seemed like moments after I got out of the shower and slipped on a T-shirt and a pair of boy shorts, my doorbell was ringing. I rushed to the front door and opened it slowly.

“What are you doing? Open the door,” she said like she was getting agitated.

“Whatever you do, please don’t scream when you come in here,” I begged her quietly while I continued to pull the door open slowly.

“Girl, move,” she said, and then she pushed her way by me. She took a total of five steps before she stopped in her tracks and gasped. “Oh my God! What the fuck! Is that Terrell? And is he dead?” she whispered while she tried to process what she was looking at.

“Yes, he’s dead,” I whispered, waving my hand to get her to lower her voice.

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