Dirty little secrets Page 6

  “That movie was crazy. Did you see how Denzel blasted that dude?” Patrick asked, all hyped.

  “Forget that. Did you see how Denzel put it down with that chick? He has got to be the sexiest man in the world—next to you, of course.” I laughed before giving Patrick a kiss.

  “Isn’t this special, my friend and my girl all hugged up together?” As Patrick and I stood in front of the car, for the first time in over three months Trey was standing in front of me. My hands began shaking, and Patrick pulled me closer.

  “Trey, I think it’s best that you leave. Now!” Patrick stood in front of me without the least bit of fear.

  “Or what, Patrick? Huh, what you gone do?” he continued, a smug look on his face. “You might think you got yourself a prime piece of pussy, but that’s my bitch you’re fucking. She will always be my bitch.”

  “Whatever, man, you keep holding on to those memories because that’s all you have left.” With those words, Trey snapped and swung his fist, barely missing Patrick’s jaw. I stepped back as Patrick and Trey went to blows.

  “Trey, please leave!” I screamed, hoping he’d realize he was fighting a losing battle. But they were in a full-blown fight. People were gathering around, wondering what the hell was going on. After Patrick landed two straight jabs, one in Trey’s stomach and the other under his chin, the fight seemed over. Trey was bent over in pain, looking defeated.

  “Take that, you bitch-ass motherfucker. You like pounding on women, but you can’t pound on no man. Don’t you ever bother Tyler again, or I swear I’ll kill you.” Patrick grabbed my hand to walk away, and Trey reached in the back of his pants and pulled out a gun.

  All I heard was people screaming, “He has a gun! He has a gun!” Everyone was ducking behind cars and running for cover. Patrick squeezed my hand tightly as if to tell me not to be afraid. But I was beyond afraid. Trey pointed the gun toward us.

  I didn’t want to die, and I felt the need to plead for my life. “Trey, don’t do this. Killing Patrick and me won’t change anything. I know you’re better than this.” The tears were rolling down my face as I prayed my words would make a difference. Trey stepped closer to us with the gun pointed steady in our direction. I was hoping that Patrick wouldn’t try to be a hero and get ahold of the gun.

  “All I ever wanted to do was love you, Tyler. You’re my life. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe I would have a girl like you. You can’t blame me for doing whatever I had to do to keep you. But you’ve moved on, and I can’t let you be happy without me.” My chest was thumping and I was becoming dizzy because I knew Trey was about to put a bullet in Patrick’s head and in mine. I heard police sirens in the distance, but they were too far away to make a difference. All it would take was a second for Trey to end our lives. He yanked the gun forward with intensity, as if he was about to pull the trigger. I knelt forward, still holding Patrick’s arm, knowing we were about to die together.

  “Tyler, I’ll love you forever. Remember this moment because my face will haunt you for the rest of your life.” Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. Patrick tried to use his body to cover me, but I moved forward and looked directly at Trey, as if I wanted to look my death in the face. Trey’s arm was raised, and the next thing I heard was what sounded like a large explosion. Everyone gasped in horror as Trey’s brains splashed across the concrete.

  I screamed, “Nooooooooooo!” as Trey’s body fell to the ground. I hated the way Trey had treated me, but never did I want him to die. But there he was, lying before me dead. As the police arrived and ran toward Trey’s dead body, I realized it could’ve been mine.

  Letting Go

  “I want to give a shout out to the class of 1998’s North Atlanta High School graduates, Lisa Duncan and Tyler Blake,” the DJ yelled over the mike. “It’s All About the Benjamins” was blaring from the speakers, and Lisa and I were grinding to the music at Club 112. I didn’t know how Lisa got Chris to announce that over the mike, especially since you’re supposed to be twenty-one to get in the club. But who cared? I was so psyched about being free from high school that I wanted to party all night long. With eyes closed, I was running my fingers through my hair, dancing in my own world, when I felt a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist. The arms felt so good that I didn’t even move them. I was in a zone and I slowly grinded in their embrace. My eyes were still closed when the soft lips kissed my neck and their sensual scent intoxicated me. Whoever was holding me felt so right. The kiss on my earlobe got me aroused, and the whisper in my ear ended the mystery.

  “You just letting any old nigga run up on you?”

  “Nah, only one that I miss, like you, Patrick.” I turned around and faced him.

  “How did you know it was me?” he said, sounding surprised and happy that I wasn’t letting just anybody grind on me.

  “I didn’t at first, but then your voice gave you away.”

  “Oh, so you didn’t know who I was and you still allowed me to feel up on you like that?”

  “Yeah, shit, you had me in a zone. I was already vibing with the music, and when you touched me it felt so right. Anyway, how can you question me when I haven’t seen you in over six months?”

  After Trey killed himself, I had totally lost my mind. I couldn’t sleep or eat, and all I saw was his face. Patrick tried to console me, but I was inconsolable. Being close to him kept reminding me of that fateful night. Eventually he dropped out of school and disappeared, and we lost all contact. My parents had me see a therapist for a while, and eventually I somewhat pulled it together mentally. But when I tried to find Patrick, I hit a dead end. It was as if Patrick just vanished off the face of the earth. I knew I was the one who pushed him away, and I had no right to think that once my mind was stable he would still be right there waiting for me. But Patrick and I had been through so much together that it caused me to take his feelings for granted. Not once did I consider that he might’ve needed my support. But now here he was, standing in front of me. I stared at him for a good minute. With his tall, dark strong build, Patrick’s presence was always felt, but even more so now with his new bling-bling look. He was wearing a flashy Rolex watch and had two huge diamond studs in his ears. He was always a stylish dresser, but now he was immaculate.

  “Damn, Patrick, you looking good. I guess wherever you’ve been they’ve been treating you right.”

  “Not as good as if I had you.”

  “Funny, you seem to be doing just fine without me—not a card, a phone call, nothing,” I said, feeling genuinely disappointed. Patrick used to be my rock. I was attracted to how fly he was looking, but more than that, Patrick had the warmest smile I had ever seen.

  “Tyler, you know you’re the one who pushed me away. I couldn’t get you on the phone, and when I went to your house your father said you didn’t want to see me. I was devastated. There was nothing left for me here, so I bounced.”

  “I did come looking for you once I got my mind right, but you were nowhere to be found. Where have you been?”

  “I live in Chicago now.”

  “What you do in Chicago?”

  “A little bit of this, a little bit of that.” I glanced over Patrick again, checking out his gear. He looked like nothing but money. Young black man, doing this and that, looking like a million bucks, sounded like a pharmaceutical dealer to me. But no matter what his profession, Patrick still had the same gentle nature that attracted me to him in the first place.

  “So what brings you back to Atlanta?”

  “I had some business to take care of, but now that I ran into you hopefully it will also be pleasure.” Patrick smiled and I smiled back. I was happy to see him again, and I didn’t want him to leave. Patrick was supposed to be in and out of Atlanta quickly, but after our encounter he got a suite at the Four Seasons Hotel and I stayed with him. My best friend was finally back, and I started feeling complete again.

  The following weekend both of my parents were out of town, so I invited Patrick over for
dinner and a movie. In the middle of dessert, out of a clear blue sky, Patrick said, “Tyler, do you ever think about that night?”

  “What night is that?” I asked, knowing he was talking about Trey’s death but trying to avoid the conversation.

  “Tyler, you know what night I’m talking about,” he said, determined not to let it go.

  “Patrick, it’s so hard. It seemed like it took forever for me to get over it, which I still haven’t. Things are going so good for us. Do we have to ruin everything by discussing Trey?”

  “Tyler, we can’t move forward until we can address the past. That incident is what tore us apart in the first place.”

  “I know, but it’s just so hard. I can’t get the image out of my mind of Trey blowing his brains out.”

  “Do you blame me for what happened? Tell me the truth.”

  “Of course not, Patrick; if anything, I blame myself. I know it must have been devastating for Trey to know his ex-girlfriend and his close friend were involved. I can’t help but wonder if maybe I should’ve been more sensitive to his feelings.”

  “Tyler, that wasn’t your fault. Trey had issues that ran deeper than anyone realized; you can’t blame yourself,” Patrick said as he held my hand.

  “I know; that’s what my therapist said, but it’s hard not to feel some sort of guilt,” I said, playing with the ice cream that was now melted.

  “Honestly, for a while I felt some responsibility for what happened to Trey. Then one day I had to admit the truth to myself. When Trey had that gun, it could’ve just as easily been us lying there dead. Trey was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode. Instead of blaming ourselves and letting that dark cloud continue to linger above us, we need to count our blessings and thank God that we’re alive and able to go on with our lives.”

  “Baby, I knew that was true, but I needed to hear it from you.”

  I gave Patrick a hug, relieved that we had finally discussed that night and our unresolved feelings. After getting over that emotional hurdle, Patrick’s and my relationship began to prosper.

  “So, baby girl, what you wanna do today?” Patrick and I had gone to every fancy restaurant, seen every movie, and shopped nonstop. I didn’t know what was left, besides making love. The funny thing was that as close as Patrick and I were, we had never made love. It didn’t seem to bother him, but he was a man and I’m sure he had needs.

  “How about we go to the park and have a picnic?”

  “A picnic? You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, what’s wrong with a picnic?”

  “I have a better idea. Why don’t you go to the dresser, open the top drawer, and look inside the box?” I gave Patrick a quizzical look but followed his directions. When I opened the drawer, I found a Tiffany and Company box along with an envelope. I opened the box first.

  “Patrick, you got this for me? I can’t believe it. It’s the most beautiful bracelet I’ve ever seen.” The tennis bracelet had over forty huge diamonds that were clear and flawless. It was stunning. I looked back at him, still shaking my head in disbelief.

  “Why don’t you open the envelope?” Patrick prodded. I had momentarily forgotten about it because I was so caught up in the iced-out bracelet. I opened the envelope and saw a first-class ticket to Chicago dated for next Friday.

  “Will you come, please?” Patrick was now standing next to me, and he held my hand as he asked me the question.

  “How can I say no after you just gave me this unbelievable gift?”

  “I don’t want you to come because of the bracelet; I want you to come for me.” The sincerity in his voice moved me.

  “Of course I’ll come, and not for the bracelet but for you.”

  After Patrick left, I missed him immediately. We so enjoyed each other’s company, and I was looking forward to visiting him in Chicago.

  Because of all the time I spent with Patrick during his visit, I barely had a moment to hang out with Lisa. We decided to meet for lunch since I knew I would be going out of town in a few days. “What’s up, stranger?” Lisa said when she sat down at our table in the Cheesecake Factory.

  “Girl, what is good? I like your braids; when did you get them done?” I asked, checking out her micros.

  “Tawana did them a week ago.”

  “Damn, she has gotten good. Your shit look tight.”

  “Thank you,” Lisa said, posing to give me side views. “But enough about my hair, girl; I thought you had run off and gotten married to Patrick. I haven’t seen you since you ran into him at the club. That was so crazy.”

  “Wasn’t it? I thought Patrick had disappeared from my life forever, and then to see him again while we were celebrating our graduation was almost too good to be true. He just left the other day and I already miss him. I can’t wait to go to Chicago so we can be together again.” As I continued to go on about Patrick, I noticed that Lisa couldn’t take her eyes off my wrist.

  “Tyler, where did you get that bracelet from?” she said, holding my arm and examining the diamonds. “Is it real?”

  “It’s very real. Patrick gave it to me before he left. Isn’t it beautiful?” I said smiling.

  “Beautiful is putting it lightly. You always get everything, Tyler; it isn’t fair,” Lisa said, slumping back in her seat. “Why is your life so perfect?”

  “Lisa, my life is far from perfect. Let’s not forget I witnessed my ex-boyfriend killing himself.” Lisa rolled her eyes as if it that incident wasn’t a big deal.

  “Besides that, you have it all. You live in a big house, drive a convertible BMW, have the best clothes, and now you have a boyfriend who is loaded. Why couldn’t that be my life?” I didn’t know how to take what Lisa was saying. Yes, her house was modest compared to mine, and she drove a used car, not a brand-new one like mine, but we were so close, I never gave it much thought. But it was obvious that Lisa did, and I felt bad.

  “Lisa, you have a great life. You’re smart, pretty, and your parents adore you.” I always admired the dedication Lisa’s parents had for her. Her mother was a schoolteacher and always encouraged Lisa to do her best, and her father was an accountant. No, her parents didn’t have a lot of money, and sometimes Lisa would complain about what a strict budget her family was on, but I knew from watching my parents’ marriage that it took more than money to make you happy.

  “That’s easy for the girl that has it all to say.”

  “Lisa, stop it. One day we’ll both be rich, and it will be our own money. Wait and see. Until then, we’ll have fun spending everyone else’s money, starting with Patrick’s. After lunch, which is my treat, of course, let’s go to Lenox Mall. You can pick out whatever outfit you want. Within reason, of course,” I added. I hoped that a trip to the mall would ease her discontentment. For the first time in a very long time I was happy, and I wanted to share that with Lisa.

  The following weekend when I visited Patrick in Chicago I decided we would take it all the way. He booked a premier suite at the Ritz-Carlton. When I realized it had convenient indoor access to the exclusive Michigan Avenue shops, I was ecstatic. I spent my day at the Carlton Club spa and then did a little shopping. That evening I met Patrick at the Greenhouse for drinks. I wore a fitted white Dolce & Gabbana pantsuit, with my hair up and a few cascading curls framing my face. After a few drinks, admiring the view of the city and listening to the beautiful “My Funny Valentine” coming from the piano, I was ready to go to our suite and make passionate love.

  By the time we reached the thirtieth floor, we were basically undressed. Luckily Patrick had managed to take out the room key, and when he opened the door we began a long lingering kiss that lasted until we reached the king-size bed. He fingered my nipples, and then his warm mouth kissed my breast. I moaned with ecstasy while caressing his manhood. He started going down on me, and I screamed with pure pleasure. Then he stopped and marveled at my beauty before we made love. We made love for a long time before becoming exhausted and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Patrick’s strong m
uscular body next to mine made me feel so loved. The next morning when I opened my eyes, Patrick had already ordered breakfast. I ate a couple of strawberries before going into the marble bathroom to take a shower. As soon as I walked in, I saw that Patrick had already prepared a bath for me. He also had a mimosa on the table next to the bathtub. He remembered it was my favorite drink in the morning. After I lounged in the Jacuzzi for a while, I joined Patrick in bed and we made love once again.

  Looking out at the Chicago skyline and the lakefront view, I was relieved that Patrick and I were compatible sexually because now we had a chance at a serious relationship. At the same time, he knew so much about my past, I was afraid it would cause problems in the future. You should never, ever date a guy who was your best friend and knows all of your secrets. Patrick never believed in us. I guess he shouldn’t have, because although I loved him, I wasn’t in love with Patrick and he knew it. He was older and ready to settle down and have a family. Although I was young and having fun, I never wanted to be locked down and have a baby with someone in the pharmaceutical business. What type of life is that? I had bigger goals and ambitions in life. Patrick was someone who was intriguing to me at the moment. I loved driving around in his brand new red 500 SL in front of my friends. He was the first guy to give me a thousand here and two thousand there just to go shopping, and that was big to me. I felt like I was balling. Here I was, still a teenager, and this guy was treating me like a princess. All my friends were envious of me, and I loved it.

  “Oh, fuck, if I throw up one more time, I’m going to die,” I screamed out loud on my way to the bathroom. Being sick had already caused me to skip my classes at Spelman, and with exams coming up I couldn’t afford to miss anymore. I had been extremely nauseated for a week, and a red flag was waving steady. I purchased a pregnancy test, and of course I was pregnant.

  “I can’t believe this shit,” I kept saying, walking back and forth in my room. I simply wasn’t about to have Patrick’s baby. I flipped through the yellow pages and made an appointment to have an abortion. I knew Patrick would be devastated because he was twenty-six and had no children. He wanted a baby more than anything in this world, but it wasn’t going to be with me. As much as I loved Patrick, I knew having a baby with him would never work. For one, although he never discussed it with me, I knew Patrick was involved in illegal activities. How else could he explain his endless money without having any sort of known job? With Patrick there were too many risks that he could end up in jail or, God forbid, dead. That wasn’t the life I wanted for our child.