Authors: Evelyn Rosado
The purple night’s sky was dotted with stars and snowflakes coated the pavement. My throat tightened making it difficult to speak. I folded my arms and the tears poured. “Why didn’t you
want
me?”
“You’ve always been my baby girl. I always wanted you.”
“But you just left us. No goodbye. No notice. I mean, I’m your daughter and you just left. I needed you.” He came towards me to try to hug me, but I jerked away.
“I was scared to death. Your mother and I…we were young. I didn’t know how to be a man when things got tough.”
“Being young isn’t an excuse. Because mom stuck around. She was there. She’s younger than you and she stuck around. She was a mother to her child.” My teeth chattered.
“Tiny I was there. For nine years I was there. Then I got laid off at GM. I would come home blasted. I’d come home to you and see those pretty brown eyes. I couldn’t bear to let you down. I couldn’t let you go hungry. Then unemployment ran out. I couldn’t find work. I refused to let your mom get on food stamps or even get a job. Money got tight. There were times where I’d go hungry for days because we didn’t have enough money for three people to eat. I put you and your mother before me. And then the money ran out. I ran out of options.”
“It’s not about the money. It’s about a little girl needing her father and he wasn’t there.”
“I know. I know. I think about it everyday. I get sick to my stomach thinking about what I did. I’ll never be able to fix this and it kills me. It fucking kills me inside.” His voice was full of agony. “I was scared to death. How could I explain to a little girl who only cared about being a princess to her daddy that I didn’t have money to put food in her mouth? I just couldn’t do it.”
“And then fourteen years go by?” I started screaming again.
“It just…happened. What do you want me to say? I made bad choice after bad choice. I started hitting the bottle hard and dabbled in drugs. In and out of rehab. I didn’t know how to reconnect with you. What to say. How to say it. I couldn’t bear to show my face around you.” His hand flinched and he looked like he wanted to fall to his knees and sob. “I just couldn’t. I failed you.”
I cried so hard I became nauseous. “I failed you and your mother. I can’t call myself a man. Men aren’t supposed to abandon the people he cares for.” I stood silent. I let him pour his soul out to me. Years and years of it. “Did you really want to meet me or just want to hear me say those words?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. A part of me wants to hate you for everything you did. Another part wants to forgive you. I just don’t know what to think. What to feel.” I wiped my nose with my glove. “A part of me hates myself for even coming here.”
“Tiny, it’s okay to hate me.” His voice grew soft. “If you never forgive me, I’m okay with that. I’ll live with it. I have to. This isn’t about me. It’s about you. I am asking for forgiveness. I’m not the same person I was.”
“You just can’t walk into my life when you’re ready.”
“I understand that.”
“What if
I’m
not ready? All these years and I’m still not over it. I buried things so deep that I don’t think about it. But it affects me. Every guy I date, I think if I marry him, you won’t be there to walk his girl down the isle and give her away. You won’t be there to see his grandkids because you’re probably in some shitty motel with a bottle of vodka.
“I deserve that.”
“You’ve fucked up my life...forever” I had to forcibly calm myself down to stop myself from shaking. I gave one last look into his defeated eyes and got in my car and drove off. I left him there in the cold, alone, like he left me.
I slid the keycard into the slot and the red button flashed. I slid it again. Still red. I pounded my fist into the wall. I planted my forehead on the wall and watched as tears fell on to the carpet like the first few isolated drops of rain before a thunderstorm. “Get it together. You
knew
this was going to happen. You knew it,” I said.
Goosebumps dotted on the back of my neck. I didn’t want to talk about with Victor. I didn’t want to recount the embarrassment I felt earlier.
I inserted the card and it flashed green. I drew in a harsh, shaky breath and opened the door.
Victor stood in front of the window, overlooking the orange lights that dotted the buildings of midtown. “So how did it go?” He didn’t turn around as he spoke. I could hear ice cubes jangle in his glass. “I thought about you the entire time you were gone. I hope things went well.”
I brushed the tears off my cheeks with my palm. I rushed over to him and removed the glass from his hand drank its all of its contents. I exhaled deeply as the whiskey warmed my belly. I needed another. Disappointment appeared on his face. “Natasha, I’m sorry.”
I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face into my lips.
I could tell he wanted to speak again but I swallowed the breath from his lungs and sucked his tongue. All the emotion from being with Matt made me ravenous. I needed to take back control. I needed to be as far away as possible from the hurt I had just experienced.
I yanked Victor’s dress shirt from out of his pants and ran my hands all over his chest, nearly gouging my fingernails into his skin. I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shirt – two buttons popped off from how bad I wanted his skin to be next to mine.
My breath was hard and jagged.
I swiped his belt buckle out of his pants loops and hurled it behind me. Glass broke on the floor.
He looked into my eyes and I knew my intense, savage expression startled him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” he said, “but I fucking love it.” I planted my hand on his firm ass and placed my lips on his nipple suckling and biting it. His cock stiffened in his boxers as I continued to suckle. I needed to see it. I craved to hold it. I ran my sweaty palm against his back. It was smooth and hot and hard. His muscles seemed to ripple to my touch. I felt every ridge of his spine as I traced my finger from his lower back up to his neck.
His hands ran through my hair, I pulled him closer to me, so close that I wanted us to submerge into each other. Our heartbeats pounded into each other’s. “I’m so glad I’m with you, Victor,” I said choking the tears back.
“Me too babe,” he said. His voice settled me. He looked at me with a tender expression as if to say I didn’t need to explain anything and that he was there for me.
My breaths came in short gasps as the tension mounted in between my legs. I desperately pulled his lips to mine again and we made our way to the bedroom, knocking over plants, picture frames, and books along the way. By the time we made it through the doorway, we were both naked. He stood at the edge of the bed and I stood in the doorway of the dimly lit room, my hands resting on my hips, waiting to devour him whole. He was fully erect. “You’re so beautiful,” he said marveling me from my toes to my full breasts.
I rushed over to him and hungrily took ahold of his body and pressed it against mine. Our mouths swallowed each other’s. Our hands feverishly groped each other, scraping, poking, prodding each other with pleasure. I grabbed the back of his neck and mashed my lips into his and then I grabbed his shaft and stroked it violently. His knees were buckling before me. Short breaths escaped his nostrils. He slid two fingers up and down my clit, my wetness drenching his hand and sending a rush of desire through my bones. I had enough with the foreplay. I pushed his chest, launching him onto the bed.
As I mounted him like an animal, our slippery bodies writhing on top of each other’s, I grabbed the base of his cock and submerged on to his dick.
We both cried out.
Every slick inch pulsated within me, stretching my walls. Breaths were lodged in my throat. I sunk my fingernails in his chest and his head sunk back into the pillow from the pleasure. “What about a condom?” he asked in disbelief, veins protruded in his neck.
“No condom,” I said barely forcing the words out. “I need to feel all of you.” I rode my hips back and forth on top, slowly grinding my walls around his hardness. “Every inch of you.” I couldn’t believe I broke my number one rule, but every other time we had sex, protected, the thought of him inside me without a condom echoed through my mind.
And the feeling lived up to everything I thought it would feel like. I looked down into his eyes, he returned my gaze, mirroring mine – savage-like. I felt closer to him and I know he felt it too.
My shivering thighs gripped his torso tightly, causing friction, as I rode his cock back and forth, shaking the bed with each rock of my hips.
Victor planted his palms on my ass, but I yanked his wrists off of me and threw them on my breasts. I wanted him to caress them, massage them, pinch them, suck them. And he did. He flicked my nipples with his fingers and then rubbed them in a circular motion, stiffening them further.
“Yeah, baby,” I groaned, moist words rolled from my tongue. “Just like that.” I straightened my arms and forcefully pressed one hand in his chest and my other hand caressed his face, his eyes closed from the sensation and my pussy became wetter from him plucking harder at my nipples.
My cries grew loud. And his were louder.
He started thrusting his back upwards, groaning louder with each massive thrust, filling me up with his cock. I tightened my pussy around his shaft and I felt the heat pour off of us, sweltering the room so much I swore the mirrors fogged up.
I rode him mercilessly, my hands still on his chest, pinning him to the soaked mattress, drenched from our hot fluids mixing. I knew he desperately craved to flip me over and pound my cunt until I screamed his name, but I squeezed my thighs harder, gripping him to where he couldn’t move a muscle.
Our skin glided against each other’s, squishing and writhing as I increased the pace of my riding. Our moans collided with the bed’s headboard banging against the wall. Veins in his forearm protruded as he braced his hands on my ass. I rocked harder and harder on his cock, his tender head swelling with each gyration of my hips. Rivers of sweat spilled from my brow on to his chest, which was tight and flexed, every muscling rippling tight.
My breasts bobbed harder and more violently with each forceful thrust of my hips.
The sensation was mounting. It vibrated deeply within soul. In blinding desire, I rocked forward and Victor thrusted upwards, stretching my pussy, pulsating my walls with his rock hardness.
I could feel his nails tearing through my skin on my ass. The pain was blinding almost but the sensation from his cock spearing through me made the pain subside.
“OhmyfuckinggodNatasha!” he screamed. I couldn’t believe how much in control I was. Our rhythm became violent; the bed frame squeaked and the clock on the wall fell onto the floor. The glass cracked and the battery flew out of the back.
We both cried out uncontrollably.
I felt myself ready to break into a million pieces. I leaned down to kiss him, swirling the sweetness of his moist mouth as my pussy began to quake.
“Fuck!” I shrieked in to his ear. “I’m gonna come so hard. Come with me Victor!”
I quickly rose and flung my head back, my mouth expelling joyous cries as my thighs shattered and my pussy vibrated shooting webs of pleasure though me, scouring every inch of my body – inside and out.
Victor groans monstrously as his orgasm wasn’t far behind. I still rode his cock furiously, another wave of pleasure was seconds away from blinding me. He came. He vibrating cock spilled his seed into my walls. I felt closer to him. The feeling of him coating my pussy with his stickiness drove me up the ceiling into another violent orgasm. I rocked his cock back and forth until my legs seized and cramped from the motion. I collapsed on top of his sweaty chest and he wrapped one arm around my throbbing back and his free hand wiped the strands of dripping wet hair from my face.
I was shaking, but not from the immense pleasure.
“Babe, are you okay?” he asked. I nodded slightly. “It’s about earlier?” I nodded again.
“Can we not talk about it?” I asked. My voice was tender and shaky.
“Anything for you. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”
“Good.” With both arms, I reached under his back and held him tightly. “I’m glad you’re here next to me right now.”
It was the only place I wanted to be.
On the news broadcast the next morning, one more woman came forward. During the interview her face was hidden and her voice was distorted. My stomach turned as she began to describe the alleged altercation with Victor. I shut the television off.
That was when the flashbulbs started.
One cameraman followed us as we went to grab bagels that morning. It grew to three after we left the gym. Then three grew to seven. Then seven morphed into a mob of paparazzi.
They were blinding. I had to wear sunglasses everywhere I went. For coffee – sunglasses. To the market – sunglasses.
Despite trying to avoid the newscasts and the blogs, I couldn’t resist looking at the pictures. I looked like a vampire. My skin was pale and vapid. I didn’t feel stressed out, but I looked it. Maybe it was photoshopped.
I wouldn’t that attention on my worst enemies – if I had them. I was sure after the dust settled, I’d have more than I could handle. Most of them paparazzi.
To keep from firing back at the nasty comments on the blogs and ruining my afternoon, I texted my cousin Gabby.
She responded immediately.
“Hey! It’s Tiny
.
”
“Hey cuz
.
I miss u so muuuuch!”
“Hey old chap!!! You’re back in town?”
“Yea. A few dayz now.”
“And you didn’t let me know u were comin?”
“I wanted to surprise everybody
!
”
“What a surprise!”
“I called ur mom. She gave me ur # but I lost it.”
“That doesn’t surprise me either.”
“Come over. U have 2 see my place. It’s fuckin awesome. I’m home now. Come over.”
“Text me the addy.”
“39 Main. Apt 25B. Crown Oak.”
“I’ll tell the doorman to buzz u in. Just go to the front desk.”
“Doorman? Wow. Big timer.”
“
”
“See u in a bit.”
***
Every time I would come to Crown Oak, I would look at the deluxe high-rise apartments and adore them. I would look at them and envy whoever lived there - usually twenty-something hipsters who siphoned their parent’s trust fund by the hour. Men with skin tight jeans and oversized beards and girls who adored the 1950’s with funny glasses and red lipstick rued the day in the town.
I loved the quaint and quirky boutiques and trendy bars and cafes, but I hated going there. I felt like I didn’t belong there – I wasn’t trendy in the slightest.
My shoes weren’t designer and my car, well I used it to get from point A to point B. Everything in the town was about what company you worked for, what particular designer your eyeglass were, what band you saw last night that was so cool that only you’ve heard of them and how that supposedly made you cooler than everyone else.
Maybe I was jealous because I wanted to be in the ‘in crowd’.
Or maybe not.
I just didn’t like the smell of pretentiousness in the air.
I grinned and bear’ed it as I found a place to park and walked to the front desk of the apartment.
A girl whose eyes were too big for her head glared into her tablet and didn’t bother to look up at me. She clearly knew I was there. It wasn’t a huge lobby to begin with.
I tapped my fingernails against the large, wooden desk. The bitch’s head still didn’t lift up. Her fingers kept scrolling through whatever trashy blog she was reading. I cleared my throat.
“May I help you?” She clearly sounded as if I interrupted her. And she still didn’t bother to look at me. The metallic blue hue of the screen consumed her face, giving her skin an evil robotic look.
“I’m here to see Gabby Donovan,” I said. “I’m Natasha Yancey.
She let go of her tablet and clicked her mouse on her computer a few times. She waived her fingers away at me. “It’s Gabriela Donovan.” She gave me a look.
“Thank you. You’re very helpful.” I said rolling my eyes.
Praying I didn’t get into an incident with security, I walked up to Gabby’s door and knocked. The walls muted the loud music which poured through. She swung open the door and greeted me with huge hug and a peck on the cheek.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said as we were engaged in a hug.
“It’s so good to see you too,” I said hugging tighter.
She and I were the tightest. Best of friends. We told each other everything.
Then she up and left for LA.
“Come in and sit down.” She was always the prettiest girl in the room. It was her that I learned how men when in the presence of a charming feminine presence – baby, teenager or grown woman – can be wrapped around your finger and have them gooey as silly putty. I wasn’t as shocked to see how beautiful she’d become. And tall – a few inches below Amazonian. Her big, gray eyes, enveloped by her long, flowing dark hair.
“Nice place you have here,” I said looking around.
Her apartment was ridiculous. It was stylish and modern. The balcony had a view of the city that was amazing. I looked out of the windows and was taken aback by the sights. “You should see it at night. So beautiful.” I sat down on the black leather couch. The price tag was probably more than two or three months rent. It had clean lines and fixed cushions. It rested on stainless steel legs which I was hesitant to sit on, but it was very comfy. A sixty inch plasma flat screen television adorned the wall in front of me played music videos. It was on mute.
Lavish vases and huge art prints covered each wall. They didn’t look like ones you would find at IKEA. I couldn’t take my eyes of one abstract piece. It was a deep blue, with dashed of red and strokes of purple. “Oh that one?” I broke out of my trance. “That’s from Aoki Kumatra. Great artist. Good guy too. He did that piece for me.”
“Wow. Impressive. I didn’t know you were into art.”
“I’m not.” She pulled the cork off a bottle of white wine and handed me a glass. “He and I just dated for a while. He’s gonna be huge one day. Trust me.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.” I took a sip. The wine was incredible.
“Really? Why?” She plopped down on the couch next to me, smiling.
“Honestly?”
“Please.”
“One day we were gonna be roommates, looking at apartments together. Then poof, you were gone.”
“But you know I wanted to move to west. I talked about it all the time.”
“You just up and left.”
She took a long sip and turned and faced me. “You know about all the issues I had here. I just needed out. Anywhere but here. I wanted to just run away and not look back.” She looked down at the glass as she swirled it in her hands. It seemed at that moment she acknowledged how she isolated herself and the guilt bubbled over.
“You were just gone.”
“I guess things were moving so fast I never got a chance to stop and see how it would affect everyone.”
“Uhh, you think? That Saturday, I went over to Andy’s house to see if you wanted to grab a coffee and I’ll never forget the look he had on his face. It looked like he got robbed.”
“I guess I didn’t leave under the right circumstances. I packed a bag and went down to the bus station at like two in the morning. Andy was out like a light. I left a note for him and that was that.”
“You literally left like a thief in the night. I thought it was something I did wrong. You were like my best friend.” She placed a hand on top of mine.
“I was scared Tiny. LA just kept calling me.”
Before she headed west, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, with ambitions of making it big modeling or being an actress, I never saw some so sure they were going to make it. She spoke about going to Los Angeles for months on end and none of us believed her. She had four-hundred dollars in her pocket and smile that wouldn’t quit. No one could tell her she wasn’t going to make it in Hollywood.
“You were gone so long, me and mom thought you were dead. I knew you weren’t speaking to your mom, so I knew she didn’t know. Nobody knew.”
“But I’m here now. And as a token of my misdeeds…”
“Token of your misdeeds? When did you start speaking like that?”
“Doesn’t matter. But I want to make it up to you.”
“You’ll need a lot of time for that.
“I know, but can I at least start by taking you out tonight. Sushi first and then V.I.P. over at Dream tonight. It just opened up. I know the owner. I can get us a private table, free food and drinks.”
“I kinda already have plans tonight.”
“Well break them. This is me, Tiny. I’m back. How long has it been?”
“Too long.”
“Exactly. So let’s do it up. We can catch up. I can tell you about LA and Paris. And you can tell me about all the boys you dated. Because I know you lost your mind once you went to college.”
“Paris?”
She nodded and her face spilled with joy. “OMG the crepes will make you go mad.” She shook my shoulders. “You can’t say no.” She got down on her knees and grabbed ahold of my leg. “Please, pretty please?”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll go.”
“I didn’t even have to tickle you this time.”
***
The amaretto sours were starting to speak to me in a way I didn’t expect. I always had to tread lightly when I drank with Gabby. I always went past my limit with her. There would be hell to pay when I woke up in the morning.
Sitting with Gabby in VIP reminded me why I hated clubs. The last time I went to a club was when I was with Gabby. We were seventeen and we snuck in. She got us fake ID’s, but they were so poorly made the bouncer wouldn’t let us in. That was until Gabby flashed her boobs to him.
We sat in the upper level of the venue, overlooking the dance floor. Alternating flashes of dark and neon lights decorated the scene. It was kind of enchanting looking at a bunch of sweaty bodies, gyrating to the hypnotic rhythms of thumping bass lines. The collective wail of the club-goers as they sung along with the most popular lyric in the song was jungle like.
But it still made me feel icky. I was comfortable in the plush, air conditioned area we sat in. I didn’t dress to match the occasion. I wore jeans, heels and a cute top. Gabby wore a black dress that showed a lot of leg and a lot of cleavage.
I felt safe from the pack of wolves below who were frothing at the mouth to tear female flesh with their bicuspids. I could smell the cheap cologne from all the way up top. Cologne shower indeed. Five sprays on the neck. One on the chest. Two on each armpit. Three on their crotch – if they got lucky (but actually wouldn’t be). The empty of the bottle on their shirt. How could a girl not be seduced by that?
Men who sat at the other tables adjacent to us in the VIP flooded our table with glasses of champagne. I guess they were intimidated to strike up a conversation. Gabby, though a couple of years older, she still was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. Though it was obvious the fast living of being in that environment lifestyle has taken a toll on her. Her big, gray eyes which were always starry and able to make you melt, now looked muted and worn. Like they had seen too much. Things she wished she hadn’t seen and prayed to never see again.
Gabby left for LA an unpicked apple tree and returned, limbs split, branches bare, and roots rotten.
I wanted to ask her about that huge purple elephant that sat in the corner of her apartment, next to the television – how she was able to afford the place – but I didn’t want to pry. I hadn’t seen her in years and the last thing I wanted to do was rub her the wrong way.
She told me about all the parties with celebrities, being flown to Paris and Milan for fashion shows, but she also told me about her battle with drugs that had her career go south quick.
“So, why did you leave LA? How could you leave a place like that and come back to this cold ass place?”
“LA isn’t like you think. Not all palm trees and sandy beaches. I needed to be back around my loved ones.”
“You didn’t have friends out there?”
“If you want to call them that. I thought that’s what they were.” She sniffled and flicked her nose with her finger. “C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom,” she said getting up, pulling my wrist. I nearly tripped following her.
The ladies restroom was spotless – absolutely different from what I expected. Nightclub bathrooms were usually rest havens for germs, fungus, STDs, influenza; a living breathing petri dish. I usually held it until I got home.
The usually suspects were all there: the girl on her phone in tears, screaming slurred words into her phone to her ex-boyfriend on the other end, the girl in front of the mirror re-doing her eyeliner for the hundredth time that night, the ridiculously drunk girl on the floor hunched over in the corner who had been in the bathroom for an hour because she’s too drunk to stand up. And a new one - the girl in the bathroom stall doing cocaine, sniffing her brains out.
I looked at Gabby like she was insane.
“Really?” I asked. Gabby was always a drinker, maybe a cigarette or two – only when she drank and a joint every now and again if she was feeling funky, but never the hard stuff.