Pink Lips, page 12
They continued kissing when Talvin stretched his fingers under Evelyn’s soft cotton vest. He pulled it over her head, and then slowly removed his own T-shirt. She arched her back slightly as his lips delicately caressed her stomach. His chest was soft, and slightly rough from the sun. Talvin wasn’t the type to have bulging biceps, but he was perfectly toned, with a strong hold of her. Things became more intense and hot. They clumsily made their way to an empty room. Their sweaty bodies pressed against each other, and they became one person.
“That was good,” Evelyn moaned as she lay on top of Talvin.
“That shit was real good.” Talvin kissed her lips.
Although Evelyn was twenty years older than him, Talvin still wanted her. In his eyes she was as beautiful and graceful than all the other women his age, but the way she ran the streets alongside her husband made Talvin that much more attracted to her. He had fallen in love with her and he couldn’t stop even if it killed him.
“You think you can still handle that thing for me?” Evelyn asked, referring to Duke.
“Of course,” he said as he looked into her eyes.
“When?”
“When do you need me to do it?”
“Tonight,” she said as she bit his bottom lip.
“Then I will handle it tonight.”
Evelyn stretched her body on the comfortable bear skin rug that she and Talvin somehow ended their sex session on as he went to fetch something to wipe up with. She could still feel his fluids on the small patch of hair between her legs as she lay there on her stomach with a smile on her face. She knew that by the following day Duke would be dead and if she were lucky, so would Willow.
• • •
Everyone and everything Duke saw was in his way, a barrier between him and his destination, the emergency room. He was resolutely focused on getting to the hospital as quickly as possible. Every possible outcome was running through his mind: one moment he was convinced that Willow was at death’s door; the next he hopefully speculated that she had just a few scratches; or better still, it was not his Willow at all; a case of mistaken identity; his Willow was at home.
The hospital smelled like a synthetic clean death as he entered. The florescent lights glared on the tile floors as he spotted Willow waiting as she applied pressure to her wound. He witnessed many extremely sick people as he rushed over to her. Some were upset as they were bored. Those waiting were sad yet impatient and mad, all emotions across the board. The wait was great as it always was. Willow thought to herself, This is why they call us patients because we must be patient before anything ever gets done.
“Yo, the fuck are you doing out here?” he asked her as he stood over her.
“Waiting to be called.” She clenched her teeth, the pain becoming too much for her to bear.
Duke’s temper rose immediately at the sight of Willow’s pain. He couldn’t take seeing her hurt. For some reason, he could feel her pain, and as he watched small sweat beads roll down her forehead, he became furious. Duke turned around, his eyes looking for the nurses station. When he saw it, he headed over, and within seconds, he was in front of a nurse.
“Excuse me,” Duke said, the nurses at the station ignoring him. “Excuse me!” he yelled as he banged on the top of the counter for dramatics. The nurses, the waiters, and the people leaving all turned around and looked at him as the room stood still, nobody moving or saying a word as silence took over.
“My girl has been shot. I need y’all motherfuckers to get her to the back now. She’s bleeding, and she looks like she’s about to faint,” he said with a raised voice.
“Sir, we have an order to follow here and—”
“I don’t give a fuck about an order.”
“Calm down, sir, we will have her in the back as quick as we can.” The nurse pointed to the waiting chairs. “Now have a seat and be patient.”
Duke wanted to reach over and pull the woman up by her collar, but he saw the police in the waiting area, so he decided to be mild. He pulled his cell phone out as he looked over at Willow. He had to make a move quick. Her eyes were closed from the pain and if he had to call in one of his favors from the streets, that’s what he was going to do.
“I need some intel,” Duke said into the phone as he looked back at the nurse’s badge, “she’s a nurse at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital. Her name is Melissa, white chick, kind of short, thick, dark hair with dark eyes.”
“I found her,” the voice on the phone said. “What do you need to know?”
“Everything.” Duke walked over to Willow, listening to everything the voice told him. He tapped Willow as he hung up the phone. Her eyes sprang open and he leaned down and helped her up. “Come on, we’re going to the back.”
He let her weight fall on him as they made their way to the nurses station. The same nurse looked their way and smirked before turning her head to engage in the conversation she was having. Duke smiled at her arrogance, knowing that in a minute, she would be hitting the button to open up the doors in the back.
“I wonder what would happen if Justin was rushed here,” Duke said as the nurse looked his way quickly at the call of her son’s name. When the look of worry took over her eyes, Duke knew he had her exactly where he wanted her. “Would Justin have to wait like this if he showed up with the same gunshot wound? Maybe I should go to Grover Washington Jr. Elementary School in the morning and find out.”
“We have a bleeder,” the nurse called out as a facade.
“That’s what I thought,” Duke said as the nurse rolled a wheelchair around the nurses station to allow Duke to sit Willow in the seat.
Willow’s vision swam for a second before she felt a hand grip her arm.
“Please, just sit down,” Duke said to her, a worried expression on his face.
She angrily pulled her arm away, a scowl on her face as she placed her hand on the nurse’s thigh. “No!” she yelled, trying to shake away the dots in her vision. “I-I’m fine,” she said, stumbling over her words as it got harder to see.
A still moment passed before she felt the nurse tug on her arm again. “Please, miss,” she pleaded, and Willow didn’t have the strength to pull away. Her knees collapsed, and the next thing she knew, the world went black.
Willow was in a heavy black cloud. There was nothing to see and nothing to hear; just this heaviness in her whole body. It was so heavy that she couldn’t move. She couldn’t remember how to open her eyes. Then she started to hear noises. The buzz of machines and the clicking of feet near her, quiet talking. She lay still. She strained to hear and make sense of it all. She felt some light shining on her closed eyes—a pink glow. She struggled to open them. She was in a bright white place. Someone was bending over her. He said her name twice. She tried to remember how to talk. No words came, but she blinked hard. Again, he called her. Again, she tried to answer. Suddenly, Willow cleared her throat. She thought she was about to shout. But all that came out in a tiny whisper was, “What happened?”
Willow awoke fully as she leaned up in the hospital bed. All she could remember was the gun going off at Kail’s leisure. She snapped back into reality and realized she was in a hospital. She could make out Duke’s face next to her.
The doctor smiled. “Good, you’re awake; how are you feeling?”
With the little strength she had left, she replied, “I don’t know, weak.”
The doctor looked at Duke and motioned him to go outside with him. As she watched Duke walk out of the room, she got out of the bed as she walked over to the small mirror above the sink. Her wound was packed, a small needle was inside her arm secured by tape as if medicine, and fluids had been given to her. Her lips were bare, no pink on them at all, which made her feel naked. Willow couldn’t believe that Kail had shot her. Her mind was still in a state of shock and almost shut down every time she tried to process the thought. Her heart was telling her it wasn’t true, but her brain played it over in her head like a prosecutor wanting justice. Her heart was heavy as she leaned on the sink, tears rushing down her face at the fact that she couldn’t trust her one and only living relative.
“Your girlfriend is going to be okay,” the doctor said as he looked Duke in the eyes. “As long as she cleans the wound thoroughly, then it should heal nicely. I’m going to write a prescription for pain, have a nurse remove that IV from her arm, and she can leave.”
“Thank you, Doc.” Duke shook his hand before making his way back into the room.
“Let’s go.” Willow met him at the door.
“You gotta wait for the doctor.”
“Duke, you can wait. I’m leaving. I don’t like hospitals. Because this is a gunshot wound, it’s protocol for them to call the cops, and I sure as fuck don’t like them motherfuckers. So if you want to wait, that’s on you.” She pushed by him.
Duke obliged as they walked down the hallway. “So who shot you?”
“My sister,” she responded coldly.
“Word?”
“Thank you for coming,” Willow said to him, changing the subject as they made it outside.
“Come to my place; let me take care of you.” Duke wrapped his arms around her gently. “I make some bomb-ass noodles.” He smiled.
“I don’t eat that shit.” Willow grinned.
“We will find something for you to eat then.” Duke kissed her forehead. “Now wait here and let me go get my whip.”
Willow could see Duke’s pearl-white Mercedes CLK 500 sitting on 22’s pull up in front of the hospital as she adjusted the makeup on her face. The vibrations from his sound system shook the foundation of the hospital as the beat echoed throughout her eardrum.
She walked to his whip as his eyes pierced through her body, undressing her a little more with each step she took. After entering the car, the smell of his cologne danced inside of her nostrils, making her love his scent even more.
The gold in his mouth glistened from the light that came on from her opening up the door. He was wearing Polo everything and his smile was therapeutic to her in some way. His smile always put her mind at ease.
“You feeling better?” He reached over and kissed her lips.
“Somewhat,” she told him as she continued to kiss his lips, “thank you for being here for me tonight; it meant a lot.”
“I love you.” He gazed at her. “I love the fuck outta you, shorty, and that’s what you do for the people that you love.”
Willow sat with chills as each word rolled off of his tongue. She was scared of love. She had never had the chance to experience it the right way, and it was true what people said: you feared what you didn’t know. Her heart melted in her chest, and flowed to her stomach as her pulse slowed down. “I love you, too,” she said as they drove into the night.
They pulled up to Duke’s apartment building; neither of them wanted to get out. They were too caught up in their moment of love that they just sat there as Cupid’s arrow shot into both of them repeatedly.
Duke was forgetting about Melee more and more. He loved her, but what he felt for Willow was way deeper, and each day that she stayed missing, made him love Willow more. He had forgotten how it felt to be connected to someone until now. He was in love, and as he looked into her big marble-like eyes, what he was feeling was real.
“Did you see that?” Willow asked Duke as she looked out the back window.
“Naw, I didn’t see nothing, baby.” Duke closed his eyes and leaned his head back in his plush seat.
The sound of the pistol going off ripped through their ears as if they were right next to a fireworks display, listening to it go off, with no protection. The echo of the ear-splitting bang carried on for a good minute before Willow actually realized that they were being shot at.
A burning sensation hit her like a deer caught in headlights; it felt like something slit her throat. She panicked as she ran her fingers across her neck and blood gushed onto them.
She looked over at Duke and he was shaking while holding his side. His body was in shock and from the way blood oozed out of his mouth, she could tell he had been shot.
The bullets kept coming as Willow managed to open the door and get out. With her hand on her neck, catching the nonstop flow of blood, she fell onto the hard pavement of the street. Tears filled her eyes as she started to pant for air. Her arms felt heavy and she couldn’t move no matter how hard she tried.
The barrage of bullets stopped and she could see a truck speed off down the road. She recognized the brand of the truck, but the sound of Duke choking on his own blood interrupted her from thinking straight.
Willow lay there with her shirt covered in blood unable to think. Her thoughts patronized her, so close to her grasping, until they escaped her mind.
What just happened? she kept asking herself as her vision grew blurry. Her eyes started playing tricks as her vision kept going in and out. She bellowed out a loud scream, which exhausted her body, and before she could do anything else, she blacked out.
The sounds of sirens awakened her as bright lights flashed inside her pupils. Willow was on a stretcher with pressure being applied to her throat. She looked around at the EMT and the paramedic asked her questions that she didn’t respond to. She looked past them and there was Kail, standing at the back of the ambulance.
“Kail, what happened?” Willow asked as agonizing heat attacked her throat with each word she managed to speak.
“Don’t talk,” Kail snapped while wiping her eyes.
The aides in the ambulance forced Willow to lie down as she tried to get up. The ambulance stopped and she didn’t hear sirens anymore. She saw the doors open up from the outside as the aides started to pull the stretcher out of the ambulance. Her neck was still burning; it felt as though she was in a dream fighting to wake up. They rolled her inside of the back of the hospital.
Willow wanted to ask questions, but she lay there while they rolled her into an operating room. What happened to Duke crossed her mind while a group of nurses appeared around her. She tried to speak, but talking hurt, so she continued to lie there, gazing into the many lights that lined the ceiling. She felt a prick in her arm, she looked down, and there was an IV piercing her skin. A nurse told her to count to ten and by the time she got to five, her eyes closed and she drifted away in a deep sleep.
• • •
Junior walked through the front door of his parents’ mansion as security nodded their heads at him in a speaking gesture. The air filled with a sweet, musky scent as he entered the room. A delightful combination of woodsy aftershave with a hint of clean perspiration could be smelled from a few feet away. It was intoxicating to the housekeepers as they found themselves inhaling deeply every chance they could when the young man walked past.
“It’s done.” Junior walked onto the balcony where Evelyn was sitting, enjoying her morning coffee.
“That’s good news.” She took a bite of the toast from the plate on a stainless silver tray. “Did he get both of them or just one of them?”
“Both of them from what he told me.” Junior sat across from her.
“So, Duke and Willow are finally done for.” She smiled as she stirred her coffee.
“Willow?” Rock asked as he stepped onto the balcony. He was wearing a silk pajama set.
“Just some girl that Duke was fooling around with so I had them both killed.” Evelyn smiled.
“How did she look?” Rock asked, looking at Junior.
“I told you she was just some—”
“Shut the hell up,” Rock said, cutting Evelyn off.
“I don’t know, Pops; I didn’t see her.” Junior’s eyes went from his mother to his father. “Why y’all making them faces?”
“Is it her?” Rock asked Evelyn as he grabbed her face, his hands squeezing her mouth together with force. “Evelyn, I swear, you better tell me the truth now or your name will be on my list right after your father’s.”
“Yes.” She slapped his hand away. “It is her.” She stood, her finger pressed into his forehead. “The little bitch isn’t even supposed to be here. So, I finished what we started.”
“What we started?” Rock repeated, grabbing the tray and throwing it off the balcony. “It’s what you and your sick-ass father started. You knew she was alive and you didn’t tell me?” He started to walk off the balcony and into the bedroom. “That’s low, even for you, Eve.”
“Who is this chick?” Junior asked.
“Your little sister,” Rock said as he walked away. “Go downstairs and get a car ready. I’m going to get dressed and then we can go.”
Sixteen
Willow slowly lifted her heavy eyelids as the strong smell of antibacterial cleaner filled her nose. Her mouth was dry and she smacked her lips a few times to wet them. She was lying down, in a bed it seemed, and the room was bright. Light from the window reflecting off the eggshell-white walls made her want to close her eyes again.
She felt like she had slept for years, but her body was still tired. She heard the beeping of a machine and slowly turned her head toward the source of the noise. The muscles in her neck were stiff and sore. She saw Kail sitting in a chair by the window; she was sleeping, it appeared.
Goosebumps filled the skin of her arm as the cool air circulated in the room, hitting her from every direction. Squirming around from the uncomfortable feeling of the rigid bed, she tried to yelp out to get Kail’s attention, but nothing would come out. The texture of the roof of her mouth felt chalk-like and speaking was futile.
“You awake? How do you feel?” Kail asked her as she woke up in the chair.
Before Willow could attempt to answer, she felt something surge from her gut and into her throat. The last thing she ate, peaches and oatmeal, unfortunately, came spewing out, covering the sheets beneath her. Her body was reacting to the anesthetic from the surgery and vomiting was one of the side effects.
“Give. . .me. . .some. . .water,” Willow managed to say after tossing the vomit-filled sheets onto the floor beside her. Her body was weak and with every move, she discovered a new source of pain.
