Renee 3 Page 16
Roy nodded his head. Carmen wanted to go inside, but the conversation continued where she stood. Roy balanced himself by holding on to the frame of the door and taking light sips of the dark liquor. “Good. I hope they get that son of a bitch. They took my life away.”
Carmen turned away, unable to look the man in the face, let alone the eye. Her posture turned rigid and uneven. Uncomfortable, she asked, “Is Madison here?”
Roy finished off the remainder of the bottle, threw it out on the lawn, and disappeared inside the house. Wide open, the door swung on its hinges. When Carmen was unable to see him, she cautiously walked inside. An alarming smell hit her nose, forcing her attention on the four-day-old fruit flies swarming around. Carmen quickly closed the door behind her, applied her sunglasses to her eyes, and remained where she stood. She couldn’t do it. Looking Madison in the eye and stripping away the fake was one thing, but watching Roy crumble and break was something else. Roy reappeared with a bottle of scotch in one hand and vodka in the other. He walked around with them proudly. Making a turn into the living room, he flopped down on the couch, his feet bumping into one another.
“Excuse the mess,” he announced, and without a second passing after his apology, he knocked old containers, dishes, and napkins off the table. A combination of food and unfinished liquor smashed together and created a village known as a mess on the floorboards. “You can’t take a seat? It’s okay. There was once a time when your ass couldn’t have a seat because you were always pouncing around when you came to visit your sister.” Noticing he only had the bottles of liquor on the table and no cups, Roy shrugged his shoulders, popped the scotch open, and introduced his lips to the brim of the glass bottle. “Want some?” he asked. His arm stretched out, the bottle swaying from side to side.
Carmen heard his question but paid it no mind. Her eyes roamed around the home. Taking in all the details that remained from her childhood, added fixtures reminded her of what they’d replaced. The floors were now glazed brightly by a buffer. However, that did nothing to hide the deep scratch she put in the floor, the scratch Madison told Prue and Roy was her doing.
The view she had of the kitchen allowed her to discover that it had been remodeled with updated gadgets and colored walls. She searched for the pan Prue used to make her famous fried chicken. Her insides became wrecked when she didn’t immediately spot it but eased when its worn, faded outer shell peeked out from behind one of the other pans hanging over the kitchen island.
Carmen looked at the ceilings, then up at the windows. Home. This place read home and was where her best family-filled memories lay. Roy sat, looking around, occasionally drinking and falling victim to his memories. Eventually, Carmen stepped inside the living room, her black sneakers dodging the spoiled food soaked in liquor. Beside the fireplace, she took a seat and relaxed herself.
“She’s not here,” Roy finally answered.
Snapping her neck in his direction, Carmen remembered the question she asked long ago.
“But she won’t be coming back.” The taste of scotch began to bore him, so he switched to vodka. The instant a drop entered his system, his sight began to blur, and his reflexes slowed. Roy could handle a lot of alcohol, but everyone had a limit. Roy just wasn’t willing to recognize his.
“Why? What happened?” Carmen demanded to know. Her calmness was ripped away and now plagued with questions.
“She saw no use in seeking revenge against the people who took my family away. Therefore, without your mother and aunt around, I saw no use for keeping her in this family.”
Discomfort settled further inside Carmen’s bones. It wasn’t until this moment that Carmen understood her sister’s emotions. “How could you do that?” She forced out her words, soft and airless.
However, Roy heard nothing. He heard only the sound of the liquor swooshing back and forth the more he moved it around. “She’ll be okay. Looks like she found a friend in the girl next door when I sent her packing. Let Renee deal with her shit. It was ridiculous that she still had a room here anyway. We should have made it a playroom for Zeke’s kids when we had the chance,” Roy confessed, unaware of the information he divulged.
The saliva coating Carmen’s throat ran dry, and her concern for Madison withered away. “What did you say?”
“The girl next door. She seemed to have gotten in good with her. I saw her going into her house the night I kicked her out. Her name is Renee. Zeke was doing business with her. She was a friend of your aunt’s.” The weight of Roy’s head was now increasing, and his neck strength was weakening. Gone were his strong presence and small indications that he was inebriated. His posture was now slouching, and his head drowned in the soft couch.
“How does she look?” Carmen screamed. This couldn’t be happening. Her secret, the card she pulled to hurt Renee, could not have been back to haunt her. It would have been too big of a coincidence that Renee was Prue’s neighbor.
Roy’s eyes were now closed and easing into sleep. Yet before he gave himself over fully to rest, he told her, “Like you.” It was the perfect ending to Roy’s days of drinking and lack of sleep. Since his son’s death, no peace was delivered to him, and drinking was his only comfort. He fell asleep, and before he fully had the chance to rest his body, the sounds of a car starting up sounded outside.
Carmen jumped out of her seat and rushed out the door. A dark vehicle turned out of Renee’s driveway and sped off, the silhouette of two heads in the front seats heading toward the city.
Chapter 28
“So this is the infamous strip club?” Renee asked. She looked at the club Madison was recently fired from through the tinted window of her automobile. “You couldn’t have picked a better spot to shake your ass?”
The question was offensive and unneeded, but stationed outside the building and looking at it, Madison understood why it was asked. It wasn’t how it used to be. Back in the day, it used to be better. After management changed and Madison was hired, the club obtained its fifteen minutes of fame due to celebrity sightings and the club’s elaborate decor, but eventually, the club’s time in the limelight ended. The once-hot place to be was becoming old and predictable. Now Madison’s place of employment was a run-down building sitting on a street whose value had plummeted.
Madison looked at herself in the rearview mirror and saw that the young girl who started out in that place was gone. She detected a wrinkle or two forming and the sadness in her eyes begging for happiness. It was then that Madison asked herself, what am I doing? When will I grow up? Depressed by that realization, Madison reminded herself that this was not the time for her to self-analyze, so she put on a brave face and faced Renee. Trying to lighten up her mood, she replayed in her head what Renee had asked, and laughed.
“Shut up. Back in the day, I made this place popping.”
Renee chuckled, the laughter a temporary relief from Madison’s reality. Renee looked at the club, then back at Madison. “Why are we here? Are you having second thoughts?” she asked.
Madison tried to be strong, tried to appear unbothered. “No,” she lied.
“You’re lying.” Renee smirked. “You don’t want to do this. It will take a lot more than someone terrorizing you for you to set out to harm them, now won’t it?”
Madison felt Renee’s stare relax on the side of her face and numb her skin.
“You don’t have to be what you think you should be.” Listening to Madison talk and replaying conversations they’d had, Renee had already labeled her personally. The more Madison hurt, the more she tried to toughen up. However, with each attempt, she fell short of what she aimed to feel and tried to accomplish. Madison’s heart went unprotected, and she tried to build a solid wall around it, but no brick stood tall. It only sat up straight for a second, then fell into pieces. Madison’s anger was diluted by love and peace. She wanted to be angry, wanted payback, but she couldn’t go through with it.
Looking at Madison, Renee could see that negative, vindictive actions were not
her style. It seemed right at the time, only because the idea of being disrespected never sat right with Madison, but when it came down to it, her heart got the best of her.
“Would you think any less of me if I told you that you are right, and not only was I having second thoughts, but third and fourth thoughts?” Madison asked. Her question was drenched in emotion, yet her face held none. Madison wished she could stand by anger toward her coworkers, but her soul fought against such things after a certain amount of time. Madison had her moments when she was strong, but then her conscience would take over, and the need for peace would lead her to turn a blind eye.
The club was never their destination. They were supposed to be driving to Madison’s home, where she would pack her belongings and stay with Renee temporarily. With Renee and Julian back together, moving back to Manhattan was a go. His absence was the only thing keeping Renee from reentering her old home, which had yet to sell. It held years of misery, but it was home and Long Island a stranger.
That morning, the three had agreed that Madison should move in. She had no employment, and her and Renee’s needs to get to know one another were high. Moving Madison into her own space would have been an easy and fast transition, but it wasn’t something Renee wanted. She wanted to get to know the only family member she had left. Things were moving fast, but life was short, and Renee refused to miss out on it any longer. So they jumped inside the car and rushed to Madison’s, where she’d pack her belongings, starting tonight.
But instead of being surrounded by boxes, Madison sat looking at the club she forced Renee to drive to. Her second thoughts appeared out of nowhere, but it had to be done. She thought the building’s presence would help dictate whether getting revenge was right.
Renee shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t.” Renee knew that although they both lived lives parents taught their children to steer clear of, her occupation was the reason almost all her humanity had been sucked out of her. Madison, on the other hand, still held on to what the girls at the club tried to terminate, and therefore she cared what people thought. “You talk a good game, but I understand that some people are not meant to sit in the stands, let alone play the game.”
They were one of those pair of sisters who were opposites. There would be times when the youngest would act as the oldest, and the eldest would sit back and follow her lead. Renee started the car, preparing to leave the club behind.
“Why can’t I do it? Why can’t I be like you?” Madison looked at her sister. When she found out she was fired, she dared Renee to prove the clout she held by helping her handle her strip club enemies. And now here she was backing away from a challenge she put out.
Renee pulled her car out of its spot and laughed. Never had anyone told her they wanted to have her personality. “That’s funny, because I wish I were like you.” Renee wished she could move on from issues without reacting to each one like Madison had chosen to do, but before she tried achieving that goal, she had to do one more thing: a favor to Madison.
Without the heart to seek revenge, but instead wanting to move on with life and do what was right, Renee wanted to be Madison, and that alone was an accomplishment. Never would it be a reality, because Renee didn’t let go of things, and that included Madison’s torment from her coworkers.
* * *
Renee dropped Madison at her soon-to-be ex-home and took the long way back to Long Island, the landmarks and smell of New York restaurants a rejuvenating experience. Over an hour later, she pulled into her driveway, where she sat and acknowledged her home’s elegance and lack of comfort. This place wasn’t for her. She couldn’t build on a foundation that held no history. She had to go home. Entering the quiet environment, she sought out the only familiarity those bricks contained. Renee locked eyes on the body lost in cotton sheets and blankets hibernating and regaining energy in her bed.
Like a lion zeroing in on its prey, Renee approached Julian slowly and with ease, her movement thought out and with the grace of a ballerina. Quietly and without disturbance, she pulled herself onto her large, high bed, her knees sinking into the mattress and shaking her balance. Renee’s head lowered and lips parted, her teeth grabbing hold of the comforter. With rough, powerful tugs, she tore it from his body.
Julian’s position in the bed did not alter. Instead, he remained in a deep sleep, unaware of his surroundings. Now on top of him, Renee had her prey under her claws and pinned to the bed. Her hands traveled over her hometown and visited her favorite locations. The slow movements erupting from his body meshed with hers. His eyes remained shut; however, his physique participated in the love affair and grew more intense with every touch of her lips and feel of her breath cooling off the internal temperature after every kiss.
* * *
Renee had never stepped foot inside of a strip club. It was never a thought that ran through her head, or a spur-of-the-moment entertainment activity she set out to accomplish. It was just a place she knew was there, but saw no need to indulge herself in. It was a place that lost souls inhabited and money controlled. It was a stale, neon-colored, music-filled room on which attention was placed during the weekends then forgotten about once life rolled back around on Monday. Renee would have never gone there, but for her sister, she’d go once.
In boots and a ski jacket, Renee’s attire weighed her down and forced her to stand out in a room where clothing was minimal and easily removable. Yet she walked across the room, which flashed with color and reeked of lust, toward the bar, with the bottom of her boots adding to the bass the speakers let out. Insecure, questionable looks given to her from employees were motivating. Her covered body acquired the attention of customers whose vision was normally cast on flesh in bits and pieces of fabric. The strippers danced in slow motion, and their facial expressions hardened as she walked by. No man complained about the lack of movement given by the women, because they, too, were lost in the trance of the beauty walking by. Each low-eyed scowl Renee received was dropped in her memory bank, a sleek smile etching itself across the left corner of her lips. Madison had no friendships here. The ivory to her ebony had left, leaving no one for Renee to overlook.
Renee took the seat of a man at the bar who got up. He was marching hand in hand with a towering dancer with high cheekbones. The name “Ms. Russia” was stitched across the bottom of her shorts. They walked toward a metal door in the back of the club. A clean napkin sat beside a half-drunken beer, and Renee used it to wipe down her seat. She watched the bartender give head bobs to customers surrounding the bar and maneuver from man to woman, woman to man in that exact equation before turning to her. The shock in his eyes and decrease in his steps told her hello before his mouth ever got the chance. The sweat leaking from the beer bottle fell on his hand and woke him up, alerting him of the gentleman two seats down from Renee, who put in his order nearly five minutes ago. He delivered the beer, collected the cash, and ignored the rest of the men determined for a drink.
“Jordan,” Russell whispered.
The day he stopped working for Renee appeared in his thoughts, and he skimmed through every possibility as to why she would be here. His break from the illegal life was a smooth and painless one. It was a life he could no longer commit to. It was a phase in his youth he saw his way through, so when he sat down with Renee and explained this to her, the woman who literally took him off the street and gave him work when his abusive father kicked him out understood.
The desperation his brown eyes were lined with when Julian introduced him to her was unforgettable. He was 14 and naive to it all. Renee did nothing to fully contaminate his mind, except to make him her lookout when dirty deeds were done and occasionally deliver packages. He was no solider, not a killer or beast who could survive in the streets. He was a kid and still a kid when he made his exit at the age of 20. So when Russell asked to sever all ties and leave on good terms, Renee respected that and wished him luck in his new life.
For some time after Russell’s departure, things were good for him. He sav
ed the money he made from Renee and enrolled in college. After graduating, he put his energy into becoming a sports agent, which made life not only remarkable, but unmanageable. The money this young man was making and the attention he was receiving from gold-digging women whose goal was to slide next to his athletic clientele pushed him into a world of sex. The lifestyles of the rich and famous destroyed him more than Renee’s business could have ever done. The partying stole his attention, and he focused on the fast women lost in his pants. Business was no longer being handled, and bills were no longer paid. He was relapsing into poverty. It wasn’t long before Russell was blacklisted and found himself bartending for one of the married women he lusted after. That was years ago, and although he was kicked out of the glitz and glam, he held on to the sex and screwed every woman who came his way. The only difference now was the women he slept with were no longer groupies, but drunks.
“How are you, Russell?”
Russell swallowed, wishing she had asked anything except for that. How could he tell the person who helped him up when he was down that life took him to new heights after leaving her, and that the power of the pussy led him back down lower than where he’d started? The glass a stripper slammed on the counter while rushing to the stage gave him a reason to divert his attention from Renee. He grabbed the glass and proceeded to work.
“I’m good. I’m good,” he stuttered, his back turned. He finally took orders. Renee nodded her head and looked over his appearance, his skinny exterior telling her otherwise. The lies he told fell on well-informed ears.
“Then you have the energy to do one more job for me.”
The lights cut off, and an alarm screamed. Red beacon lights lit the room, and a number of individuals, men and women, flocked toward the stage. There was one night per week when special shows out of the norm were performed, and no one wanted to miss them. Only a few people remained at the bar, their minds in a world of their own and eyes randomly checking for the show to start. Russell served his last drink and took a second to himself. He welcomed the erotic shows the club scheduled, because while they took place, he could breathe.