Renee Read online

  “Is your father home?” Sheila questioned.

  “My father’s dead, but if you’re talking about that bastard you call your husband, he’s not here.”

  With an open palm and stretched-out fingers, Sheila slapped Renee on the right side of her face. Her finger pointed in Renee’s face as she told her, “You’re going to learn to respect Curtis. Do you hear me!”

  Renee kept her head in the direction her mother’s slap had taken it in and didn’t respond.

  Sheila grabbed Renee’s chin and turned her face to her. “Do you hear me!”

  Still no response.

  Sheila moved her hands to her daughter’s cheeks and squeezed them forward until Renee’s lips resembled a duck. “Do you hear me . . . ?” Sheila squeezed until her fingers hurt and Renee’s cheeks reddened.

  Unable to bear any more, Renee strained her mouth to utter, “Yes.” Then she snatched her face away from Sheila’s grasp and tried rubbing away the pain.

  Sheila looked behind her and waved over at the red car. A bald-headed man dressed in slacks and a Hawaiian button-down shirt got out from the driver’s seat and strolled across the street.

  “Now, you stay here and be on the lookout for Curtis,” Sheila instructed Renee.

  “You said when you come back, I could go out. It’s already nine o’clock, and I’m supposed to be home by ten,” Renee explained with an attitude.

  “Then I guess that means you’re not going out,” her mother hissed.

  Hawaiian shirt stepped next to Sheila. He looked Renee over. His eyes trailed down her body and didn’t reach her feet before Sheila snatched his hand and pulled him inside.

  Renee crashed down on a porch step and covered her face with her hands. “I hate her,” she said as she wept.

  Julian pulled her into his arms. “Don’t forget the plan. Keep doing your thing in school so we can get a scholarship to college and get the fuck outta here.”

  In between sobs Renee managed to push out, “Go to the park. Don’t wait for me. I took enough of your time. I have to stay here, not you.”

  “If you stay, I stay.”

  The blaring sound of cars honking their horn behind her brought Renee back to reality. She looked up at the green light and made her motorcycle roar. She sped down the street and popped a wheelie. She couldn’t believe she had seen her mother. She took her anger out on the road, doing eighty while weaving in and out of traffic. She didn’t know where she was going. All she knew was that she had to get away before she did something she wouldn’t regret.

  * * *

  Page saw Renee sitting outside, watching her house. She had no idea who she was or what she wanted, so she stood to the side of her bedroom window and looked at the stranger on the bike. She stepped farther from the window and hid behind her curtains when she thought the biker had caught her looking. Her first instinct was to whip out her switchblade, head out to the street, and take the biker out with one clean cut across the throat. But something told her to stand there and examine the biker. For all she knew, it could simply be someone admiring her mother’s flowers.

  They got a lot of that when people walked and drove by the house in the summer, but for some reason, this person didn’t seem like a citizen admiring the flora. Page thought that perhaps it was Janae, or someone Janae had hired to watch the house, in hopes of spotting Renee. She shrugged it off. Janae could do whatever she pleased, but the second she stepped out of bounds and brought danger Page’s way, it would be her life on the line. Minutes later she watched the biker speed off and pop a wheelie. Just then her mother, Sheila, and her mother’s boyfriend entered the house, having noticed nothing.

  As a child, Page was anything but normal. She was not your average little girl who desired to play with Barbie dolls and pretended to have tea parties. Instead, she was obsessed with sharp objects and intrigued by what they could do. When she was eight, she’d adopted the habit of playing with knives. She was fascinated with how they could cut through almost anything. She loved the fact that if used properly, knives caused humans to die and to suffer slow deaths, unlike guns, which could automatically put a person out of their misery.

  In her backyard, when no one was watching, Page would gather ants and, one by one, cut off their small heads. She had always heard never to feed rice to birds, but whenever they landed in her yard, she would give it to them. She hoped they would die while in her presence. If they did, she would cut off their wings and legs.

  Page was a lonely child. She never desired to play with other kids, because she found comfort in being alone with her thoughts. As she got older, she would place razor blades in her mouth and carry them almost everywhere she went. Her parents never noticed her odd behavior. They were too busy putting Renee through hell to notice that their baby girl was disturbed.

  Now Page walked downstairs to the kitchen, where her mother and her boyfriend, Lincoln, who was twenty years younger than Sheila and was known for his multicolored wardrobe, were cooking. She stood in the doorway and watched the two interact with each other. Neither was aware that they were being watched. Sheila was stirring what smelled like spaghetti sauce, while Lincoln held her from behind. His hands were rubbing her sides and were on the verge of exploring her whole body.

  Why can’t it always be like this? She stays with her young-ass, multicolored boyfriend, while I get the one thing I have always wanted, Curtis. A man who can care for me, love me, please me, and who I can build a relationship and life with. Why must she be so stingy? Having her cake and eating it too.

  Page nodded. She couldn’t agree more with the voice in her head. She couldn’t stand her mother and the fact that she was married to Curtis. For hours, she would listen to her mother’s moans whenever Curtis found the time to please her. On several occasions, it had nearly driven her crazy and had made her want to slice her mother’s throat. Now that Sheila was being greedy and was holding on to two men, Page couldn’t wait for Curtis to be released, so that he could come home and kick her to the curb.

  Page rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. The buffed wood floors squeaked beneath her feet. As soon as her back was turned, Lincoln turned around. His eyes lustfully scanned her body.

  “Going somewhere, Page?” he said.

  Page could have kicked herself a thousand times for allowing herself to be seen by Lincoln. She turned around but didn’t speak.

  “Hey, baby. How you doing? You’re home early from work today.” Sheila had a big smile on her face.

  She turned Lincoln’s face in her direction and fed him spaghetti sauce. The sight alone made Page want to vomit, so she didn’t bother to speak. Instead, she just walked away and headed to the front porch to get some fresh air and watch the world go by. The sound of basketballs bouncing and girls jumping double Dutch blocks away, at the nearby park, filled her ears.

  As much as people believed that Brooklyn was nothing but the hood, Page knew the truth. It was nights like this one that actually made her appreciate life. The breeze pushed the strands of hair out of her face, and the sound of bouncing basketballs actually soothed her.

  I wish Curtis was here to share this moment with me. All would have been well if that bitch had kept her fucking mouth shut. Running around, screaming rape, when she knew she wanted it.

  Page listened to the voice in her head talk about Renee. It was obvious the voice was hurt and needed to vent. Lost in her thoughts, Page didn’t hear Lincoln come out of her house and step onto the porch. Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt hands wrapping around her thin waist. Instantly, she jumped and turned around.

  “What the fuck you doing?” Page’s words slid off her tongue like venom.

  Given her appearance, she could easily be mistaken for a lady, but once she opened her mouth, the term ladylike quickly went out the window.

  “Damn, girl. My bad. I couldn’t help myself,” Lincoln said with a smile.

  Page rolled her eyes and turned back in the direction she was previously facing. She hadn�
��t liked Lincoln since the first day she met him. She despised everything about him, from how he dressed to how he thought he was so damn slick. The dude was nothing but a clown in her eyes, and her skin crawled when she thought about what he and Sheila did in the privacy of her mother’s bedroom.

  “Damn, girl. You got one hell of a body.”

  Lincoln looked over every nook and cranny of Page’s slim frame. She had the stature of a model, with her thin waist and long legs, but the assets of a video girl, with her protruding behind and well-developed breasts. His eyes dropped to her backside.

  “You got nothing on your sister, but you’ll do,” Lincoln blurted out.

  Page turned around and was face-to-face with Lincoln, their noses nearly touching. Her jaw was locked on the razor blade she held in her mouth, like a pit bull’s jaw locked on its victim, making it nearly impossible for someone to loosen its grip. While staring Lincoln in the eyes, Page felt an unfamiliar taste in her mouth. Blood. In all her years of playing with razor blades, she’d never cut herself until now.

  “What did you just say? Don’t compare me to that bitch. It’s the other way around. She has nothing on me.”

  Page’s words were deadly. If spit had flown out while she spoke, Lincoln was sure it would’ve hit his skin and burned right through him like acid. He held his hands out in front of him, showing that he surrendered.

  “Wow, little mama. My bad. No offense. It’s just that I always had a thing for your sister. When she bounced, it damn near broke my heart.”

  Page gave him such a nasty look that if she willed it, it seemed as if Lincoln would turn to stone. “How the hell do you know her, anyway?”

  Lincoln lowered his arms, happy that she seemed to have cooled off a bit. “I know her from high school. We used to kick it every now and then.”

  Kick it? This Gummi Bear–looking motherfucker is lying. As much as I can’t stand the bitch, I have to admit that she has style. I know for a fact that she wouldn’t be caught dead messing with this motherfucker. He just isn’t her type.

  “You and my sister used to kick it? Stop lying. That bitch would not have given you the time of day to wash her drawers, let alone chill with you. And as much as I can’t wait to put that chick six feet under, I know she had some class and standards.”

  Page’s hands were now on her hips, with all her weight on her right leg. If it was gum in her mouth instead of that blade, she would have looked like a straight-up chicken head.

  Lincoln had an uneasy look on his face. He didn’t like being disrespected. Yeah, he dressed a little different, and he wasn’t your everyday guy that girls flocked to, but he was real. He actually did used to talk to Renee. They had never moved to the next level and become girlfriend and boyfriend, but they’d definitely been friends.

  Lincoln had been an outsider in high school, and for some reason, he and Renee had become cool. He hadn’t been a part of her, Julian, and Slice’s clique, but he had formed a bond with them. From time to time, he’d hung out with Renee and just chilled. She’d accepted him, and that was all Lincoln ever wanted from someone.

  It bothered him to hear Page butcher him right to his face, but what he found really interesting was her calling her own flesh and blood out of her name twice. She had even said that she couldn’t wait to kill Renee. He didn’t know what that was about, but he was going to find out.

  “Fine, li’l mama. Your sister never even said two words to me. But, damn, you ain’t got to call a brother out like that. Can’t blame a brother for dreaming.”

  Page smirked. I knew his ass was lying. He probably couldn’t land Renee, so he’s settled for the next best thing, my mother. Sick fuck. He’d do anything to get laid, even if it means running game on a woman nearly twenty years older than him, whose husband is locked up.

  “You didn’t even have to admit it. I see right through you.” Page walked over to a corner of the porch and played with the flowers in the pots. “Why are you out here, anyway? Shouldn’t my mother be teaching your young ass your ABC’s or something?” Page pulled a sunflower out of a pot and threw it off the porch.

  “Come on now, P. Your mother ain’t that much older than me. Besides, it ain’t even that serious. We just hanging. I know about your pops being on lock. I’m just here keeping your moms company till he comes home.”

  Page looked at him and rolled her eyes, but Lincoln was telling her the truth.

  He and Sheila had met one at a hole-in-the-wall bar in the city. Lincoln was drinking his life away that night, after finding out his girlfriend, Electra, had been cheating on him throughout their entire relationship. He felt stupid for actually having believed she was the one. When her lover had been offered a job out of state, she’d broken it off with Lincoln, telling him she was in love with the guy and was leaving with him. Hearing those words had hurt Lincoln so bad, he thought he would be better off if she had reached in his chest and ripped his heart out. At least that would hurt less. He went to the bar and told himself he’d drink till he couldn’t drink any more.

  After his third drink, he laid eyes on Sheila. She was sitting in a corner by herself, staring at him. Lincoln looked around the bar. He was sure she was making goo-goo eyes at someone else, because love sure wasn’t in the cards for him. When she walked over to his table, it was clear she wanted him. Her hair was cut in a bob, her makeup was perfect, and her body was calling him.

  He knew she was an older woman by the few visible wrinkles displayed on her face and the mature look in her eyes, but Lincoln wasn’t going to let her slip through his fingers. There was something very familiar about her. That night they flirted and drank together, and before they knew it, they were in her bed, having sex. The next morning, when they got up, Sheila decided to lay all her cards on the table.

  “Listen, I’ma level with you. I’m not looking for a relationship. My husband is in jail, and I just need someone to fool around with until he comes home. Are you cool with that? Because if not, it was fun and the door is that way.”

  Sheila’s French-manicured finger pointed toward the door, and Lincoln was shocked. He was used to young girls, so when this grown, mature woman, who knew what she wanted and had no problem expressing it, laid it all out for him, he was ecstatic.

  “No strings attached? We’re just kicking it until your husband gets out?”

  “No strings attached. This is nothing but a good time. And when my husband comes home, you go on about your business and continue doing what you were doing before you met me.”

  This was a no-brainer for Lincoln; the last thing he wanted to do was get into another relationship. A woman who told him he could screw her whenever he wanted without being in a committed relationship was his type of woman. It wasn’t until he came back to the house the following week that he discovered she was Renee and Page’s mother. It made sense why he was attracted to her: she looked like Renee.

  “Besides, I told her I needed some air. But enough about Sheila. What’s up with all the hostility toward Renee?” Lincoln told Page now as they stood on the porch. “Let me guess. Everybody thinks you’re the ugly sister?” Lincoln laughed at his assumption.

  “Please. Like I said earlier, chick ain’t got nothing on me.”

  Yet again Page was reminded of the pedestal she believed Renee was put on. A pedestal she wanted to chop her down from. Renee got touched by Curtis and ignored by their mother, and now she was loved by losers like Lincoln. Wherever she’s hiding, I have to find her before Janae does. I have to be the one who ends her life.

  “If she has nothing on you, what’s with all the anger?” Lincoln raised one eyebrow.

  “It’s a long story. Actually, it’s none of your business.” Page brushed past Lincoln and made her way into the house.

  He watched as she walked up the stairs and vanished into the darkness.

  Oh, trust me, it is my business, he thought.

  Lincoln hadn’t been lying when he told Page that he had a thing for Renee. The love that Lincoln had
for Renee was the love that Steve Urkel had for Laura. It was everlasting and entailed an ongoing friendship, whether Renee knew about it or not. The day that Renee vanished, Lincoln was actually heartbroken. Even though he had never been as close to her as she was to Julian and Slice, he appreciated that she had decent conversations and hung out with him whenever she saw fit. Being the friendless and lonely individual that he was, he was forever in Renee’s debt because of the attention she had shown him.

  Lincoln couldn’t shake the eerie feeling in the pit of his stomach that something wasn’t right with Page. Sure, there were sibling rivalries, but the evil look on Page’s face when she had spoken about Renee revealed that she harbored more than everyday anger toward her sister. This was not a case of Renee having been spoiled more than Page or having taken Page’s clothes without asking. Pure hate had been written all over Page’s face and had echoed in her words.

  Lincoln was determined to find out how deep Page’s hate for her sister actually ran and, more importantly, if she would really kill Renee. When he gathered enough information against Page, he’d find Renee and hand it over to her. No one knew where Renee was, but Lincoln knew where to start. High school, a time when he had had no one, could have been a nightmare for Lincoln, but Renee’s friendship had made it bearable for him. That alone had earned Renee his loyalty. He’d never known how to thank her. Now he did.

  A sly smile spread across his face.

  Thank God I don’t believe in burning bridges, he thought as he walked back into the house.

  Chapter 10

  The twenty minutes Renee rode around New York City after leaving her mother’s house felt like forever. Seeing her mother had reignited the fire that burned within her and then transformed it into an inferno. Her heart had told her to show Sheila no mercy and run her over, rip her soul from her body, just as she had done to her child. However, the pesky humane part within Renee, the part that had kept her mother alive all these years, the part she figured she’d inherited from her father, had told her that she should keep riding and that Sheila’s time would soon come. Renee allowed the wind to navigate and lead her to a run-down, hole-in-the-wall bar in the Village.