Killing Them Softly (17 page)

Winston began frantically pulling the clothes from his body. When he was naked and standing in front of me, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughin’, ’cause his dick was so small. "Lay down on the bed," I instructed, and picked up his belt and tie.

"What are you gonna do?" Winston asked, but he got his ass on that bed.

"I’m gonna fuck the shit outta you," I promised, and crawled on top of him. I thought about suckin’ his little pink dick, but what would be the point in that. I used his tie and belt to tie him to the bed. Then I got up and got his shirt. I ripped it, and used the pieces to tie up his legs.

Now that I had him spread eagle on the bed, I got my purse and took out my knife.

"What you gonna do with that knife?" he needed to know when I came and sat on the bed.

"It’s to make sure that you’re a good boy, and give me what I want." I ran my hand up and down his little dick a few times, and that seemed to satisfy his need to know as I got on top of him.

"Oh, I promise to be good, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you want."

"You promise?" I asked softly, and slid myself down on his little dick.

"Anything," he promised, and began to move. I rode him for a while just to see how, or I should say if, I could feel him, and then I rolled off. "What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?"

I moved the knife along his leg and close to his dick. I grabbed it by the head, and held the knife to it. "You were fuckin’ Devin’s wife, weren’t you, white boy?"

"I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about," he protested. "Be careful with that thing."

"Don’t lie to me. You were fuckin’ Devin’s wife, weren’t you?"

"I think this has gone on long enough. I think you need to untie me right now."

"I don’t think so."

I took my knife and made a small cut on the head of his dick. "Ouch!" he screamed. "That shit hurt! Untie me right now, you fucking bitch."

"Not ’til you tell me the truth."

"What truth?"

"That you were fuckin’ Devin’s wife," I said and cut him again.

"Ouch!" Winston screamed.

He jerked and pulled on his bonds, but he couldn’t get loose. "Listen, white boy, I’m ’bout to cut this little mutha fucka off if don’t start tellin’ me the truth."

"If I tell you, will you untie me?"

"As long as you tell me the truth."

"All right then. Yes, I was fuckin’ her. I would go over there at night when Devin left, and fuck her. Now you untie me right now."

"You were there the night she got killed, weren’t you?"

"How do you know that?"

"Answer me!" I yelled, and made another motion toward his dick.

"Yes, okay, yes. I was there, but I didn’t kill her."

"Devin said she takes sleeping pills and she would be asleep when he left the house at night. What was she doin’; fakin’ him out with the pills?"

White boy looked away from me and didn’t say anything. "Answer me!" I screamed, and cut him again.

"Okay!—She wasn’t faking. She didn’t even know I was there."

‘What are you sayin’?" I asked with a frown on my face.

"I would fuck her after she passed out. But I didn’t kill her."

"That shit is disgusting, white boy." All I could think about was my mama’s drunk-ass man rapin’ me. Taking advantage of her while she was defenseless, and couldn’t do shit to stop his ass.

"Whatever; just untie me."

"I don’t think so. Sick mutha fuckas like you don’t deserve to breathe." I cut off his dick, and then I cut his throat. I got dressed, and once again, had to wipe down the room before I left. I took the stairs down and thought,
There’s a lot of sick mutha fuckas in the world.

After three hours of waiting, Detective Jensen finally told me that for the most part, my alibi checked out, and that I was free to go. "If you can think of anything that could be help, please give me call."

Before I left, Jensen promised that she would call me and let me know how things were proceeding with her investigation. That was three days ago, and I hadn’t heard anything from her, so I decided to give her a call.

"This is Detective Jensen," she answered.

"Good afternoon, Detective Jensen. This is Avonte Petrocelli."

"Yes, Mrs. Petrocelli. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I hadn’t heard from you, so I was just wondering if you had found my husband’s killer."

"I’m sorry to say that we haven’t made an arrest yet. But I assure you that we are doing everything we can. Mr. Petrocelli was last seen at bar called Shooters. Are you familiar with the place?"

"Yes, it’s not far from the house."

"He was seen there on the night of the murder with two women. The woman he was found with, Laurie Springs, and an unidentified black woman. Witnesses describe her as being about five eight, dark complexion with long, straight black hair. Do you know if he knew anybody that matches that description?"

My breath got short. "Not that I know of. Do you think she killed him?"

"At this point, I’d just like to talk to her."

"I understand."

"I’ve gotta go, Mrs. Petrocelli, but I promise, I will let you know if anything changes."

"Thank you, detective," I said, and she hung up the phone.

My hands started shaking, because I knew from the description that the woman they were looking for was Qianna.

I hadn’t spoken to her since that night she said she had something that she needed to take care of. Normally, I’d have been losing my mind about not hearing from her. But I’ve been so consumed with Tyrone’s death, making arrangements for his funeral, and with being a suspect in his murder, that I haven’t really had a chance to think about it.

I started to call her cell, but hung up the phone quickly. Suppose the cops had my phone tapped, and were just waiting for me to lead them to Qianna? If the police tie her to me, they are gonna think that Qianna killed Tyrone for me.

I tried to calm myself down because I knew I was trippin’, and I had to think about what to do. I didn’t know for sure if she really killed him or not, but I had to find out. I got up and got ready to leave the apartment.

But suppose they’re outside waiting for me to lead them to her?

"Stop it, girl, you trippin’," I told myself, and grabbed my keys.

I never knew where Qianna lived, probably because she never told me. So I decided to look for her the only other place I knew her to be.

Just in case somebody was following me, I left the apartment walking quickly, like I was late for something. I got on the subway and took the train to the Times Square station. I got off the train, ran up the stairs, and tried to lose myself in the crowd. When I got outside, I hopped in a cab and gave the driver Angel’s address. As we drove away, I sat in the backseat and felt foolish.

When we got to the building, I stood outside and looked around for a while, before I went inside. I was about to ring the bell when the door opened. Angel looked startled at first, but then she smiled when she saw me standing there. "Hello, Avonte."

"Hi, Angel."

"Come in," she said, and stepped aside. Qianna was right about one thing, Angel was a cutie. "Why don’t you have a seat?"

"Thank you." Angel came and sat down next to me. "I don’t mean to bother you."

"You’re not bothering me," Angel said, and touched my hand. I looked at her eyes; those angel eyes. "I was just on my way out, so I was surprised to see you standing there; that’s all."

"I know, and I’m sorry to just show up here like this, but I need to talk to Qianna. Have you seen her?"

"I thought you came to see me." Angel pulled her hand back slowly and looked away. "Qianna’s in the back."

She looked disappointed that I was there to see Qianna and not her. I thought about how Qianna would talk about Cutie, and the things she could do with her strap.

"Angel," I said, and touched her hand.

She turned and looked at me.

"It’s important that I talk to Qianna right now, and you’re on your way out. Maybe we could get together another time."

Angel stood up and went in the back without saying anything. When she came back, she handed me a piece of paper and sat down next to me. "When you’ve had enough of Qianna, and her shit, call me."

"I’ll do that," I promised, and quickly got something to write my cell number on, and handed it to her.

She looked at the number and smiled at me with those angel eyes. Angel kissed me on the cheek. "Like I said, Qianna’s in the back. She’ll be out in a minute," she said and left.

When I looked up, Qianna was standing in the doorway. She had cut her hair short and dyed it auburn. "It ain’t like I’m not glad to see you, but, what you doin’ here?"

"I needed to talk to you." I stood up and went to her.

Qianna held me by the back of my neck and kissed me. It makes me wet every time she does that.

"Yeah, but this is Cutie’s spot. You can’t just show up like this."

"I know that, and I apologized to Angel for just showing up like this, but I need to talk to you."

"You need to talk or you need something else?" Qianna asked, and smiled.

"No." I stepped away from her and sat down. I clasped my fingers together, and took a deep breath. "I really need to talk to you."

"What wrong now?" Qianna sat down next to me.

"Tyrone is dead."

"I’m sorry to hear that. Now he can’t cutoff your money. Now you can have it all. You should be happy."

Truth be told, I hadn’t really given
that
much thought either, but she was right. Unless he was lying to me, Weinstein didn’t know why Tyrone cutoff the money, and to my knowledge, I was still in his will. I could come out of this on my feet, if I didn’t go to jail. "The police questioned me about the murder."

"What did you tell them?"

"The truth. That I was home alone, on the phone talking to my parents."

"They buy that?"

"I told you, it was the truth."

"That don’t mean nothin’. If the cops wanna pin something on you, ain’t shit you can do to stop them."

"They said they were looking for an unidentified black woman about five eight, dark complexion with long, straight black hair," I said, and ran my hand through Qianna’s hair.

"What else they say?"

"That he was last seen at a bar called Shooters. You know, the place I told you that he wanted me to meet him at that night. He was there with two women. The housekeeper found Tyrone and one of the women dead the next morning. They were both naked."

"They say anything else?"

"That’s all the detective told me."

"Good."

I ran my fingers through her hair again. "Why’d you cut it?"

"I needed a new look."

"Why?"

"’Cause I needed a new look. Why you makin’ a big deal of this? I cut my fuckin’ hair. It’s no big deal."

Sometimes she can be so frustrating to deal with. She knows what I’m asking her, but she is determined to make me ask it. "Are you the woman that the police are looking for, Qianna?"

"Wait here. I wanna show you something."

Qianna got up and went in the back. When she came back, Qianna was carrying a manila envelope, and handed it to me. "What’s this?"

"Look and see."

I opened in the envelope, took out the contents, and began to read it. I knew right away that this was the information that Tyrone had gotten from the investigator he’d hired. "Where did you get this?" I asked, but I already knew. There was only one place that Qianna could have gotten it.

"Don’t worry about that. The less you know, the better it is for you. So don’t ask me shit you really don’t want to know the answer to."

"You killed them?"

Qianna looked at me and shook her head. "What I just say. Don’t ask me shit."

"But I’m asking anyway. Are you the woman the cops are looking for?"

"What you think, Avonte; that this shit just fell into my lap? Yes, I killed them."

"Oh my God." I dropped the papers on the coffee table, and buried my face in my hands.

"You should be thankin’ me. Now you don’t have to worry about that shit no more. You and me can go on livin’ like we been livin’. Shit, now that bad-ass house he threw you out of is all ours."

"What if they find you, Qianna? They have a description of you."

"You said it yourself. They lookin’ for some bitch with long black hair. That ain’t me," Qianna said, and ran her fingers through her hair.

"What about fingerprints?"

"I wiped the joint down before I left."

Once again, my head dropped into my hands and I began to cry. I was crying because I was responsible for their deaths. Responsible as if I did it myself. I may have been mad at Tyrone, mad as hell, but I didn’t want him dead.

"Look, Avonte," Qianna started, but I jerked away. "Oh, you don’t want me to touch you now?"

"I’m sorry."

I heard her cell ringing in the other room. She looked at me like she wanted to kill me, and stood up. Without saying another word, she went in the back to answer it.

While she was gone, I thought about getting up and leaving. I could hear her talking; more like arguing with whoever it was she was on the phone with, and it sounded like she would be on it for a while. I started to stick my head in the door and say,
Hey, I gotta go
, but that would only make her madder. And that was the last thing I wanted to do.

Qianna had already killed Tyrone and some woman he was with. I didn’t need her thinking that she had to worry about me rolling over on her.

So I sat there—like a good girl—and waited.

"Come here, Avonte," Qianna hollered from the other room. When I came into the room, Qianna was naked and laying across the bed. "Come here," she demanded, and I sat down on the bed next to her.

I didn’t know what else to do, and was too scared to do anything other than what she told me to. I sat there watching as she stood, legs spread and bent at the knees.

When she stepped in front of me, squeezing her nipples and rubbing her clit, I inhaled her scent and felt my self getting wet.

"You want this pussy; don’t even try to play like you don’t." Qianna turned quickly and jiggled her ass in my face. "I see it in your eyes, Avonte."

I wanted to say, "Fuck you, Qianna. I never want you to touch me again," but I didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t.

As hard as I tried to speak, no words would come out of my mouth.

"Stand up."

Once again, I did what she asked of me. Qianna unbuttoned my blouse and unhooked my bra. She pressed her body against mine. In spite of everything, I was weak for her, and there was nothing I could do about it.

All I could do was shake my head. The sight of her large brown nipples took what little resistance I had. Qianna took one into her hand and squeezed it, as the other hand made a trail down to her clit.

"Take them pants off so I can taste you."

I took them off and lay down on my back. Qianna crawled above me on her hands and knees. She kissed me all over, and I wanted her to stop. But before I could protest, she kissed me hard and sucked my tongue. She tried to be rough, but Qianna’s lips and tongue were so soft.

My clit was throbbing by the time she moved on to suck my neck. Then without using her hands, she took my nipple into her mouth and bit it harder than I liked, but even that shit felt good.

Qianna shoved my legs apart, and slid her body between my thighs. She attacked my clit and sucked it. I could feel it swelling.

Qianna was moving from my swollen clit to sucking my drenched lips. I used one hand to play with my nipples as the other held her head in place.

She used her fingers to pull my lips apart and sucked me from my clit to my ass. My juices ran down my cheeks, and she greedily sucked harder. Qianna shoved her fingers deeper into my warmth, and I could feel my walls contract and tighten around her fingers. No matter how scared I was of her now, Qianna still turned me the fuck on.