Renee Page 4

  Page tapped her fingers on the table and waited for him to enter the room. She was so anxious to see him, she didn’t trust what she’d do when he entered. She yearned to touch him, yearned to feel his succulent lips against hers, and wanted nothing more than to stare in his eyes and hold his hand, but she knew this couldn’t happen. Touching of any kind was not allowed, so instead there would be nothing but lust and pure temptation once he sat across from her.

  Page looked around the room at all the inmates with their loved ones. She caught a few sneaking feels, while others were heavily engaged in conversation. She bit down on the inside of her lip in order to hold back tears. She didn’t know how she was doing it, didn’t know how she was waking up every day and functioning without him by her side. She missed him and wanted him home. This man was her air; she needed him to live. And she felt drawn to him like a vampire to blood. Page turned away from the inmates and their families and was greeted by Curtis and his infectious smile.

  “Baby girl,” his baritone voice boomed. Curtis stood in front of her in his orange jumpsuit, with a smile so bright, it brought out his mocha-colored skin.

  “Daddy!”

  Page shot up and went to hug her father. She stopped in her tracks when she remembered she couldn’t. The guards looked at her, and immediately her heart broke. Her eyes met the floor. Curtis noticed her change in attitude, and his smile widened.

  “Baby girl, don’t let them get you down. In a month these motherfuckers will have no say over what I do.” Curtis stood there, confident and unaffected by his inability to have physical contact with his daughter.

  Page nodded her head, and they both sat down. As he got comfortable in his seat, Page noticed how much his appearance had changed. His hair was now sprinkled with gray, and all the weight that he lost had been replaced with muscle. He even had a twinkle in his eye, which let the world know he wasn’t allowing prison to bring him down. Although she was proud to see him in such good shape, it sadden her that her disappearance for eight months had had little effect on his life. Curtis sat with his hands folded on the table and his body leaned forward.

  “How’s my little girl doing? You’re looking more and more like your mama. We sure as hell made a pretty girl.”

  Page blushed. She liked it when her father called her his little girl and complimented her. Words like that proved she was irreplaceable.

  “I’m good. One more year and I’ll have my bachelor’s. Not to mention, I’m maintaining my four-point-o GPA.” Page smiled, but seconds later, the smile began to dissolve. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you. It’s just that . . .”

  Curtis put his hand up, signaling for her to stop speaking. “You got your head in them books. Keep doing what you’re doing to get that diploma, and don’t worry about coming to see me. We don’t need another beautiful airhead in this world.”

  Page ran her hand along the side of her short haircut, pleased with the fact that he had noticed her beauty.

  He went on. “You’re on the right track. You must get your brains from your sister. You know she always did good in school.”

  Page sat back in her seat. Her body tensed up as rage surged through her. The mere mention of her sister sent her flying off the handle, but she contained herself and didn’t say or do anything. Instead, she listened to him speak.

  “She’s one smart girl, the smartest girl I have ever known. And, boy, oh boy, was she beautiful.” Curtis licked his lips.

  Curtis pictured his stepdaughter Renee exactly how she looked when he’d last seen her. Her hazel eyes, smooth skin, and pouty lips were embedded in his mind. She was his forbidden fruit, the reason he was in prison. But still, he couldn’t help but want her. Renee was all the motivation he needed to survive his bid.

  Almost every night, Curtis dreamed about Renee: the sound of her voice, the way her tears would roll down her cheeks and he’d lick them up. He craved her body and knew the best was yet to come. Years had passed, and she was no longer a teenager but a grown woman. Curtis had to see how she’d turned out. He wanted to find her and continue what he’d started. Renee was his, and he wanted to remind her of that. He had loved many women in his day, but none had made him feel the way she did. He didn’t know what it was, but she had cast a spell on him, and he was forever hers. Curtis had one month left in prison, and he wanted Renee’s face to be the first one he saw when he got out.

  He stared off into space now, thinking about the innocent young girl’s body and the fact that he had taken her virginity. It was a moment he’d cherish forever.

  Suddenly, he snapped out of his thoughts, and a hint of madness filled his eyes. Within a second, Curtis had gone from being cool, calm, and collected to desperate. “Have you heard anything? Do you know where Renee is?”

  He was so desperate to hear Page’s answer, he didn’t notice the menacing glare she gave him. Page was seeing red. In a snap of a finger, their conversation had gone from being about her to being about Renee, the story of her life. She cocked her head to the right and imagined herself losing it. For as long as she could remember, she had wondered what it was about Renee that drove people crazy, especially her father. What was it that Renee had that she didn’t? Whatever it was, why couldn’t she get it?

  In a trance, Page stared at her father, the man she would die and bear children for all in one breath. In that moment, her heart broke. After all these years of her visiting him, loving him, and being on his team, even when his own wife wasn’t, he still chose Renee over her. He chose the very person who had landed him in this hellhole, then had run away.

  “Page!” Curtis’s voice was loud, and his fist banged down on the table. The sound bounced off the walls.

  All eyes were on them in an instant, and Curtis looked like a crazy animal waiting for his raw meat to be thrown to him. At that moment, Page realized how much he truly loved Renee.

  “Bookend! Keep it down!” the guard shouted.

  Curtis was breathing heavily, but after hearing the guard yell out to him and seeing the attention he was drawing, he slowly began to calm down. He couldn’t let his visit end without getting an answer.

  Page was broken inside, but she hid it. “Never let them see you sweat” was her motto. She smiled and shook her head.

  “No, Daddy, there’s still no word.” She leaned forward, pretend sadness filling her eyes, her hand inches away from his. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s dead.”

  Page never thought she’d say this, but she took joy in seeing the pained expression wash over her father’s face. It was the highlight of her visit. When he thought of Renee, he needed to associate her with pain. It would make it a lot easier for him to let go. For the remainder of the visit, they didn’t bring Renee up again. They talked about small, meaningless things. It was obvious the thought of Renee being dead had crushed Curtis. That was exactly what Page wanted her to be, dead in his eyes.

  During their talk, Page continued to play her position as the supportive, loving daughter that she was. She knew he loved her. Now all she had to do was turn that fatherly love into a romantic one, and the thought of Renee being dead into a reality.

  Chapter 7

  With a face full of tears, Page sped down the highway at eighty miles per hour, with total disregard for her life and the lives of others. Her nerves were shot, and her emotions were at an all-time high. Even with Renee out of sight, she still held the key to Curtis’s heart.

  That bitch isn’t even his biological daughter, and still he wants her ass! What the fuck ever happened to blood coming first?

  Page’s hands shook violently, making it almost impossible for her to retain a firm grip on the steering wheel. Images of Curtis flashed before her, and her body temperature rose. She wanted him, needed him, and craved him. She imagined reaching her sexual peak when he entered her. This was a game of pleasure, a scavenger hunt for the ultimate orgasm, and Curtis was the key to instant gratification.

  Page licked her lips. She imagined how sweet he ta
sted, and pictured her nails penetrating his back and her screaming out in ecstasy. Page’s dream was to bed her father and become his world. She’d slept with many men, only to picture her father’s face on theirs. Her sex was psychotic, and there were rules to her sexcapades. If they wanted to play, they had to allow her to call them Curtis and dominate the whole experience.

  Page went into a trance whenever she had sex. In her mind, the man she was with was Curtis. She became so lost in the fantasy that she could actually smell his scent and would beg for more. On countless occasions, when she came off her high and was reminded that the men she allowed in her temple were not Curtis, she would lose it. While on top of the men, she’d spit in their face, and the moment she saw them about to react, she’d grab the box cutter from under her pillow and hold it to their neck.

  There was always fear etched in the eyes of those men. Naked and on top of them, she’d hold the blade so close to their neck that trickles of blood would stain the white cotton sheets and darken the soft multicolored blankets. The moment they did, she was ready for another round.

  “Fuck me,” she would whisper in their ears, all while pressing the blade farther into their neck. Beneath her, each and every man trembled. A few would sweat, one cried, but the majority of them obliged.

  Page refused to accept reality. She refused to believe that once again, her dream of being with Curtis was simply that, a dream. As she thought now of Curtis and how she yearned to be with him, Renee’s face flashed before her eyes, and she slammed down on the brakes. Her body flew toward the windshield, and when she thought she was seconds away from kissing it, her seat belt slammed her back into her seat.

  “Ahhh!” she screamed. “I’m tired of this bitch! I want her motherfuckin’ head! I want her dead!”

  Page’s face was beet red, and fresh tears graced her cheeks. She looked like a warrior, with her smeared mascara racing down her cheeks. Like a trained boxer, she punched the steering wheel, trying her best to let out all her frustration. The horn honked with each blow, and people driving by would slow down a little to watch her tantrum, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was winning the heart of a man who was in love with her sister.

  Eventually, Page exhausted herself and took deep breaths. She sat, wide-eyed, and stared out the window. Punches eventually turned into slaps, which reverted to punches.

  Why can’t it be me? Why couldn’t he have picked me?

  As she fought to catch her breath, Page’s memory ran away with her.

  Page’s eyes shot open. She had had a bad dream, and was too frightened to fall back asleep. At the age of six, she found comfort in her favorite blanket, so she frantically searched her bed for it. On the floor, it lay in a pool of its own fabric. Page snatched it up and held it against her chest.

  “I want Daddy,” she said aloud.

  Curtis was the only person who could make all her bad dreams go away. He would come into her room and tell her countless stories until the nightmare was pushed out of her head and replaced with fairy tales.

  On the verge of searching for her father, Page realized that her bladder was full and decided to take a detour to the bathroom. While rubbing her eyes and walking out of the bathroom, she saw her father slip into Renee’s room. She rubbed her eyes again, trying to get rid of the sleepiness that tried to conquer her. She slowly walked over to her sister’s door. Curiosity got the best of her, so she placed her ear against the door and listened carefully.

  Page heard what sounded like muffled whimpering and her father constantly repeating, “You’re so beautiful, so beautiful.”

  She heard Renee’s bed squeaking, so she placed her hand on the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open a tiny bit. Through the crack, she could see her father positioned between her sister’s thin, trembling legs. A rainbow-colored sock was stuffed in her mouth, and with one hand, he held both her hands over her head while he forced her legs open with his knees and free hand.

  The moonlight hit Renee’s face, and Page could see her tears as clear as day. One by one, they fell from her cheeks and onto the carpeted floor. Page didn’t see the pain and the cry for help that seeped from Renee’s eyes. All she saw was her father’s contorted face. His eyes frequently rolled to the back of his head, and his mouth was agape. However, it was more than her father’s erotic facial expressions that made Page believe he was in heaven. It was his heavy breathing and focused demeanor that confirmed her assumptions.

  Back then, Page didn’t know what her young body was feeling, but watching her father have sex with her half sister made her want in. She wanted her father to caress her, to kiss her, and become one with her as he was with Renee. She wanted to make him happy.

  After that night, Page would listen to Curtis rape Renee and, once in a blue moon, have sex with her mother. It seemed that he had a thing for everyone in the house except her, and it was starting to piss her off. With each day and year that passed, her hatred for her mother and her sister grew. They had what she wanted. Page was Daddy’s little girl, and she wanted to show him how much she loved him, but he never gave her the chance, no matter how much she flaunted her sexuality.

  Once she was old enough to understand the art of seduction, Page started dressing and behaving provocatively around her father. She’d bend over, ever so slowly, to give him a show. She’d leave her bedroom door wide open when undressing. Her antics got her no attention. All Curtis ever told her was to put some baggier clothes on and to close her bedroom door when she was changing. Curtis just wasn’t interested, and Page didn’t understand why.

  She was living in a house with women she hated, and she was suffocating. Depression clung to her and wouldn’t let go. In Page’s mind, her mother was no better than Renee; they both were slutty, weak women who had something neither deserved. The only pleasure Page received while living in that house was from her mother degrading Renee. It was entertaining to see her mother verbally abuse her sister. In fact, it was entertainment at its finest. She’d listen to Renee cry almost every night, while locked up in her room, praying to God, asking Him why her mother hated her so much and calling out for her father. She probably hoped that if she called out for him enough, he’d magically appear and take her away from everything that hurt.

  To hear Renee sounding so weak made Page stronger, and she thrived on that. The only thing she couldn’t shake was her mother’s love for her. Sheila had never hid the fact that Page was her favorite. She gave her the world, and it made Page nauseous. She could deal with receiving the material things, but the talks and the maternal affection were where she drew the line. She would never like a woman who slept with her man.

  Page had managed to convince herself that Curtis needed time and would soon come around and realize that although she was young, she was the woman for him. Page’s dreams were shattered when Curtis was arrested and sentenced to ten years for raping a minor. Renee had pressed charges and had had him torn from their home. That was when things really got bad. Not only did Sheila continue to verbally abuse Renee, but from time to time, she would also beat her.

  Renee was a prisoner within her own home. A month after she graduated from high school, she disappeared. No one knew where she went, and honestly, no one cared. Sheila didn’t even bother to file a missing person’s report. The way she saw it, Renee was a thorn in her side that had finally been removed.

  Page was pleased with Renee’s disappearance, and she was ecstatic when Sheila came waltzing in with her new boyfriend, who was twenty years younger than her. In Page’s mind, now that Renee was MIA and her cheating heifer of a mother had a boyfriend, Curtis was sure to run right into her arms. All Page had to do was stand by her man while he was incarcerated and wait for him to return home and kick Sheila to the curb. Everything was unfolding nicely without her even having to do anything, or so she thought.

  Page couldn’t stop the tears from falling from her eyes as she sat in her car. They were like track runners racing for the finish line. She hadn’t known how
obsessed Curtis was with Renee until today. The look in his eyes had verified that he’d do everything in his power to find her once he was released, but Page wouldn’t and couldn’t allow that. She wiped her tears away and looked into space, murder a recurrent thought. After throwing out the idea to Curtis that Renee could be dead, and after seeing his reaction, she knew what she had to do. The only thing that could stop his love for Renee was death.

  She had to find Renee and kill her before Curtis got out of prison. He wouldn’t rest until Renee was in his arms, and this would demolish Page’s mind, body, and soul. Brokenhearted and lonely, Page would soon become riven with hate, and this she couldn’t allow. She had to make her dream come true, and she had only one month to get rid of the one person standing in her way. One month to put her one and only sister underground.

  Page gazed in the rearview mirror and saw that she looked a mess. She dug in her purse and pulled out tissues and cosmetics. After dapping her eyes and reapplying her makeup, she stared at herself in the mirror.

  “Stop crying, bitch,” she said aloud. “We have a cunt to kill and a man to get.”

  She smiled at herself in the rearview mirror.

  “That’s my girl,” she said happily to her reflection. “It’s crunch time, baby. No more tears. And for now, fuck killing Janae. We have to get to Renee before she does.”

  Chapter 8

  “She doesn’t know. I haven’t told her.”

  Crouched down, hidden behind the wall that separated the living room from the dining room, Renee listened to a tearful Sheila’s discussion with her friend Ms. Pam.

  “Sheila, how could you not have told the child?”