Renee 3 Read online

  The sound of a large thump and the quietness that followed hummed throughout the hall and turned Jared around, leading him downstairs to the hotel’s lobby. The lobby appeared more crowded than before, including the presence of security, which was entering the building just as Jared fled the scene.

  The uniformed man reentered his post he had abandoned for a half hour. His partner was out ill, so the responsibility fell all on him, and it was the perfect time to earn some money without having to share it. He sat in his seat and turned the cameras operating throughout the hotel back on. His excuse for the delay was unthought of, but the $5,000 he made would help him come up with something.

  * * *

  Blood and membrane slid down the walls, seeped inside the crevices of the floors, and ruined the couch’s cushions. Dry air swarmed the room from out the open window, and the hole in the door caused the air to circulate and shoved the stench of blood and feces inside Carmen’s nostrils. Waste released from Zeke’s bowels after his death.

  Slowly Carmen breathed in and out, her limbs never moving from where she stood the moment Zeke hit the floor and his life ended. His blood looked finger painted on her face and arms and sprayed on her clothing. She didn’t scream, not once. Not even an hour after his death did she utter a word or think one thought. Instead, she remained in shock, her eyes blinking at a calm rate.

  Carmen had separated herself from the pain she felt in her cramped neck while frozen. Pain swept along the side of her neck when she finally moved it. Reality was disclosing itself. The lost world she ran to was drifting away and appearing further and further away the more she fought for it. She saw directly through the hole the bullet had left behind, the room across the hall in clear view.

  No one has come. No one had peeked from behind doors or peepholes to answer to curiosity. An hour had passed, and no police invaded her room and questioned the event. He had a silencer, Carmen finally noticed. She looked around and didn’t stop until she saw the luggage her cousin was returning to her. It was ruined, dark blood spots on its leather. She was cursed. Anyone who hung around Carmen for more than a day was tugged inside her fight and removed before they could fight back.

  She told her legs to move. However, the signals she was sending did not reach their destination. So she tried once more. Her feet moving in small steps felt like she was walking for the first time. A tingly sensation associated with falling asleep took over. Carmen fought against it and walked over to the luggage. She collapsed, landing on her knees, pain radiating through her body and forcing her silent. Her mouth agape, tears eased from her tear ducts. And like rain, more followed and created a rainstorm. It was not going to end. Nothing would end unless she surrendered, and that was something she couldn’t do. She knew that submission meant she agreed to dying and losing a battle that she started. Although she couldn’t throw up the white flag, she also could not continue like this.

  Her cousin’s body commanded her sight, and she wondered what he wanted to speak with her about. Earlier, he called her to say he’d return her things, and when he did, they needed to speak. They agreed to meet at her hotel, the same hotel he told Jared to meet him at. His plan was to speak with Carmen regarding erasing Dane, and then go downstairs, where his meeting with Jared would take place. There they’d make out a blueprint as to how they would carry out his revenge.

  Zeke’s cell phone was halfway out of his pocket. Carmen took it and swallowed the urge to throw up. A slather of blood sat on the front of the phone. She rubbed off as much as she could on a clean article of her cousin’s clothing. She needed to make sure whoever was responsible for this was who she had in mind. Zeke had enemies outside of her own. First, she searched through his call log, then his text messages. That’s when she saw the conversations Zeke held with Dane and Calloway and, lastly, Jared. He worked with them, and, with what she could tie together, things went wrong because, the day he saved her, they discovered they were family.

  The phone slid out of her hand, and Carmen’s head tumbled forward. She couldn’t do this anymore. Her last attempt at help now lay beside her. Her protection was gone. She grabbed the coat closet doorknob and pulled herself up. She walked inside the bathroom and rummaged inside her makeup bag. A variety of pills sat next to her eye shadow, mascara, and lipsticks. Some were meant for sleeping, depression, and the pain Carmen’s body had been under due to the stress she had experienced throughout the last few weeks. Medication was a need and never far from her side.

  She popped the cap off three bottles and littered them on the bathroom sink. They mixed and matched, and the glass of water she’d never finished the night before stood tall. She scooped up a handful of pills and stuffed them in her mouth. These pills once temporarily helped her, but now she needed them to work permanently. Emptying her warm, stale glass of water, she sat on the bathroom tile floor. With her back and head against the wall, arms hugging her knees pushed against her chest, she waited for death.

  Chapter 23

  The Next Morning, 5:30 a.m.

  Astonished, grateful, proud, nervous, intrigued, scared, and confused were all the emotions pooled into one ball of feelings welling inside of Renee. Renee and Madison spoke for the remainder of the night, and still, the conversation carried on as each woman threw out past and current life events. The two went back and forth sharing experiences, some of which were presented for the world to see and some that were locked in boxes buried beneath the earth. This was a time of growth.

  Madison managed to get Renee to speak openly and without regret. Renee’s change of emotions showed on her face. The happy, sad, angry, and nonchalant reactions showed with every story she told. The connection was odd. A stranger she had just met hours ago seemed to be turning into her best friend and peeling away years of hardened layers all in one sitting. How their lives mirrored one another’s led to a direct understanding on both ends. Both women were in need of family, and although they were in the same city, they’d never crossed paths until this day. Renee’s relationship with Page and Carmen held no weight in comparison to the communication she and her older sister were now developing.

  Listening to Madison express herself and even give advice showed Renee that she never knew how to be a big sister. Her playing the role never worked. Renee’s life went incomplete for years because of lessons she never learned from Madison. Now that Madison was here, she wondered, had the four sisters been in each other’s lives from the beginning, would life as a family have been happier?

  Renee was not the only one who had learned Madison was nothing like Carmen. Hearing Renee speak and watching her listen to what came out of her mouth showed Madison that she was by far a different species from Carmen. Renee took an interest in what Madison had to say, and when it was her time to speak, she spoke honestly. Madison received no indication that Renee was self-absorbed or a menace to their family. She was just like her: wounded in the line of fire known as their bloodline and seeking to heal the best way she knew how by pushing through.

  Madison didn’t want to admit it—in fact, she probably never would—but being disowned a second time around would have made her an orphan. The pain of that fact would have torn away at her insides and caused life to wither away. Renee appearing at Prue’s home was a godsend. Their one-man-band of a family had just become two.

  Mexican takeout containers, wine glasses, and a diverse collection of snacks covered the living room table. After a while, tiredness was winning as the women fought to stay awake. In order not to conk out, they sat silent for a minute. Renee’s head lay back on the fluffy couch pillow, and Madison’s eyes closed and then opened when she felt herself going under. After thirty seconds of falling asleep, Madison’s eyes popped open and landed on the Christmas tree.

  “You do know it’s March, right?”

  Renee looked at her, drowsiness fogging her brain. Madison nodded toward the tree, and when she saw Renee looking in the tree’s direction, she laughed at her months of neglecting to take it down. A half-smile mad
e its way on Renee’s face when she looked back at her sister.

  “Oh shit. I’m one of those people who keeps decorations up for so long that by the time they take them down, the holiday is right around the corner again.” The two laughed, Renee’s discovery of a new characteristic entertaining and embarrassing. She sat up. Looking at the tree again gave her words to say. “I guess you can say I became a different person when I moved here.”

  Madison closed one of her eyes while keeping the other open. “What are you talking about?”

  “When I lived in Manhattan, all of my decorations went up and came down in a fair amount of time. Things were never one hundred percent happy for me, but at times life was at least bearable, and then new problems came up. When I learned about Julian, I just shut down and checked out. I had nothing left in me and, on countless occasions, contemplated suicide. I been through some shit, but that was just soul-shattering.” Renee leaned over, resting her folded hands on her knees.

  Madison opened both eyes. Renee’s words acted as coffee and woke her up. To hear her say it was “soul-shattering” stole her attention. Growing up, she always believed that when something was broken, it was repairable. Like if a vase fell and broke in two pieces, it was possible to mend it. But if it was shattered, there was no going back. The pieces were too small.

  “And then the anger kicked in, an anger I never felt before, when Dane and Metro ostracized me. Everything hitting me at once, knocking me down, and not giving me the chance to breathe and get back up made me feel like shit. I always considered myself broken, but having all that fuckery happen at once made me feel like nothing. I was dead inside, and the only thing that kept me alive was the anger and revenge.” Renee looked at Madison. “That scares the shit out of me.” Tears welled in Renee’s eyes. “To have such negativity be the reason you’re functioning. What does that say about me?”

  Renee was no angel, but after years of pain and growing numb to any emotion, she decided to retire. It was after that decision had been made that she finally felt alive again, tasted happiness, and wanted no part of a world she spent most of her life in. This was, of course, months before finding out about Julian’s infidelity. So when bad times entered and she fell deeper into depression, it scared her to have recently experienced happiness. Instead of latching on to that to get through the hard times, she fell back into old habits.

  Madison removed herself from her position on the loveseat and joined Renee on the larger couch. “It says that you were hurting. It says that you reverted to the negativity simply because you didn’t want to feel the pain. And instead of going through it, you chose to go around it. It also says that because you acknowledge how you acted, you will never do it again.” Madison’s sentence flew out of her mouth like a speech written and practiced days prior. It came out effortlessly and from a genuine place. It came out so effortlessly because it was something she told herself every day and wished someone had told her. Madison always wished for someone to be there for her and make sense out of the confusion, but now that she sat with Renee and took notice of her troubles, she no longer wanted to be helped. She wanted to be the one who helped.

  Renee wiped her tears away. “Is that how you felt all those years? Angry and living off pain during a life you knew was not meant for you?”

  Shock waves shot through Madison’s veins, and uneasiness ran in. She never mentioned feeling as if her life as a stripper was not meant for her. She never offered an opinion on the occupation at all. She only stated facts and voiced why she was there. Yet hearing Renee conclude from her life story that it was not meant for her, a hard life or not, was a reality check that she really didn’t belong where she put herself. Madison being a stripper was an exact example of trying to force a square into a circle.

  “Yes,” Madison answered. “That’s exactly how I felt, just a walking host of anger, looking for anything to help me ignore it, but the only problem is that it’s back.” Madison tried to force a smile, a failed attempt at concealing what she felt was not as bad as it really was. The drowning feelings of abandonment were back, and although Renee cut off the bulk of the pain, it was still there, and Madison feared its return.

  “Do you want it to leave?” Renee asked.

  Madison smiled. “What kind of question is that?”

  “Then stop stripping.”

  Madison shook her head. “You’re judging me now too? You haven’t known me for a total of twenty-four hours, and you too have something to say?”

  “You said you want that feeling to leave. You claim you want to put it to rest, yet you’re still doing what you ran to to help you escape. Now, if it helped you in any way, let me know now, and I’ll never speak on your occupation again.” Renee waited, waited for a positive to stripping she knew would never come, and it didn’t.

  “I can’t leave right away,” Madison admitted. “I have to do what I have to do until I can get myself together. Money does not grow on trees. Trust me, I know, because every day I look out my window hoping.”

  Renee giggled. Laughter truly was good for the soul. “Don’t worry about that. Your sister got you.” They used the word “sister” from time to time when referring to one another, and because it was used prematurely in their relationship, it struck them both stiff whenever their ears heard the word.

  “I’ma have to get used to that. Renee… my sister.” Madison’s words trailed off while she tried to get used to the sentence. Birds chirping interrupted their conversation.

  “What is that? I heard it all night but waved it off, thinking the wine had me tripping. Now I know it’s not that,” Renee said.

  Madison stood and retrieved her phone from the pocket of her coat hanging on the coat rack. “It’s a text. Every time I heard it, I said I was gonna check it and never did.” Madison’s phone lit up for her to see a total of ten text messages waiting for a reply and several missed calls. The first few were Nancy telling Madison to hurry back because the club’s dancers were being reckless with their mouths. That was three hours ago.

  These bitches done lost their motherfuckin’ minds. All our shit we left here is gone. We have nothing. No vanity table, costumes, or customers. They wiped our asses out. We’re motherfuckin’ blacklisted. I don’t know how they did this.

  Madison, fuck this place! I know a good three spots that would love to have us in their joints. Fuckin’ Stacy got our asses and got our asses good. I don’t know what the fuck happened when I was off, but no one wants anything to do with us, not even our boss. Ain’t that some shit? You saved his business, and he’s throwing your ass out in the cold. By the way, he told me to tell you since your stank ass don’t wanna work, stay the fuck out.

  Fuck this! I ain’t going out like this. I’ma tear this motherfucker out before I leave. I’ma be like that dude from Breaking Bad. They’re going to remember my name.

  Madison, call, write. Fuck, send a motherfuckin’ smoke signal. I’m heading home now. Fuckin’ Kirkman threw my ass out, but not before I tore up the DJ booth. That pussy-ass motherfucker, why did I give him the na-na in the first place?

  The texts stopped, and the time stamp showed they resumed a half-hour later.

  We’re blacklisted, Madison, and I’m talking about all over. We can’t get work even if we worked for free. Damn! I’m screwed.

  The remainder of the texts consisted only of Nancy telling Madison to write back and freaking out about being out of work. Nancy had words with the girls, but the small spats did nothing to take matters this far. She found her way into Madison’s problems because she was her friend, and a friend of Madison’s was an enemy of Stacy’s. Deciding whether to leave that lifestyle literally came at the perfect time. However, it bothered Madison that her friend lost employment because of her loyalty. Madison told herself one day she would get them back and, now that they got her and her friend fired, she’d handle things. Ignoring and playing things cool could no longer happen. She exited the texts, smirked, and placed her fingers on her chin, repressin
g her anger and maintaining her sanity.

  “How much weight do you really carry?” Madison asked Renee. It was happening, the anger she and Renee just talked about, the need for revenge festering and attempting to fall out by any means necessary.

  “What?”

  “You’re the queen, right? Is it really true, or just a myth?”

  Renee didn’t know where this conversation was heading, but Madison’s tone and questions sat uncomfortably and disrespectfully with Renee.

  “Do you want to find out?” This came out as more of a threat than a question. Madison was new in Renee’s life, but no matter how much they clicked, Renee would never make the same mistake she made with Carmen. One strike and you’re out, Renee thought.

  Madison smiled and flopped down beside Renee. “Yes. Why don’t you show me?”

  * * *

  A key inched inside the lock, quiet and with ease. This key had never been used or approved. Its existence was not known. But it was here now, and its use was mandatory. A light click echoed throughout the house, warning carefully listening ears that an uninvited guest was present. However, the warning was missed, along with the creaks the floors gave off. Slacks falling over the back of shoes brushed the panels, and a shine glowing in the morning sun pulsated through the living room blinds. Footsteps stopped, and someone observed his surroundings, strolling from room to room on the first floor. Making his way back to the foot of the stairwell, he saw duffle bags and locked luggage snuggled against the first step. A piece of denim peeking through a small, unzipped portion of a duffle bag informed the intruder it had recently been tampered with.

  The cushioned stairs took the form of the size tens. No squeaks were made against the house’s foundation. Instead, it contained the noise and kept up the morning peace. Reaching the second floor, sounds of water drowned the ears of the invader. Rooms fell behind the intruder, his head peeking inside the opened doors and ignoring the closed ones. This uninvited guest followed the sound of dripping bathwater. His pace slowed just a little but increased when the shower water spilled out louder. The golden doorknob granted access to the royal quarters.