Pacino always said my method of sex wasn’t normal and a disgrace to the male population. I found more pleasure in pleasing a woman than my own release. Something about the way their bodies contorted. The purrs and kitten sounds they made. Eyes rolled to the back of their heads. Toes curling and speech becoming unable to be understood.
That’s what fed my lust and turned me on.
“Amell.” The sound of tiny feet running against the slick, dirty floor sounded right after the high pitch voice yelled my name. Taking in the diner that I frequented two to three times a week, I nodded to the faces I knew and observed the ones that I didn’t.
“Guess what, Amell? I wear black and you wear black.”
Glancing down at the hands tugging on my black denim jeans, I smiled at the little chocolate toddler bouncing on his tippy toes ready for me to hoist him up in the air.
Grabbing JD under his arms, I tossed him in the air making him giggle and squeal. Once he had enough I held my right hand out like it was a claw and began tickling his belly. “Who told you to dress like me?”
“Ma…Mommy…I can’t breathe.” He wiggled in my arms, drool running down his cheek as he tried to control himself.
“Pacino is waiting in the back for you. Come on, JD.” Nesha reached out for her son but JD clung to my neck tighter.
“I got him, Nesha. Where is his bag? I’m going to take him with me for the rest of the day and bring him back to you tomorrow after he gets out of daycare.” Rightfully so O’Nesha had the right to tell me otherwise than what I just said but I knew she wouldn’t fight me on it. She never fought me on keeping her son.
Sighing, she rubbed her brow and looked at JD. The bags under her eyes and dry looking hair told me all I needed to know. She was tired. Too tired but wanted pride to keep her from getting a good night’s rest.
“Pooh, you wanna stay the night with Uncle Amell?” Rubbing his back, she leaned down until her nose rubbed up against him. “Mama will see you tomorrow, okay?”
Kissing her on the cheek, he nodded. “Okay, Mommy. I stay with Uncle Amell and see you tomorrow. I love you.”
“I’m going to the back to get his things. Thank you again, Amell.” I gave her a look that made her smile. “Right, you hate being thanked for doing things like this.” Her eyes rolled playfully, that dimple in her left cheek poking out. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll be over in a minute to take your order.”
I blamed myself for O’Nesha’s spiraled life. She went from having dreams and goals of being a pediatric nurse to working in the local diner and going to the community college. After Odom got arrested and sentenced to fifteen years in prison for Mr. Ryan’s death, Nesha was sent to a girls group home where she stayed until she was eighteen. Once she got out I looked out for her as much as I could.
Gave her money for school and tried to help her make the payments on an apartment. There was only so much that I could do with me being in high school at the time, but I never stopped helping. Her brother was gone, she had no family, and the last thing I wanted was for her to get caught up like the other girls she hung out with.
Things were going good for her. She was taking classes at Broward College and working at a hair salon on the side. Then, her world crumbled down a year and a half later when Odom committed suicide after being transferred to Raiford Maximum Security Prison. Nesha nor anyone else knew why he did it. His lawyer had even said that he might have gotten out early for good behavior.
A week after he passed, I received a letter from Odom that was postdated the day he killed himself. What he wrote made me hate myself and everyone involved in Odom’s mistreatment going back to the social workers when he was a teenager to the warden of the prison.
A young boy in a grown man’s prison is fresh meat. Not just to pick on and bully but also assault for those who had perverted and wicked minds. Odom stated that he fought so much that his knuckles were busted, and he could barely see out of his eyes. He was preyed on and they got to him. No matter how much he fought. No matter how many times he asked to be placed in solitary confinement, he fought until the assaults became too much that he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror.
He questioned life and why God made him suffer. He questioned everything and in the same sentence, he asked me to take care of O’Nesha. Protect her how he failed.
That letter was given to me over six years ago and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t read it. Odom’s fate was my fault. If I hadn’t stepped in and killed Mr. Ryan, he’d be out here bonding with his sister and nephew. If I didn’t step in where I wasn’t asked O’Nesha wouldn’t be dealing with depression and anxiety.
Me trying to help them did the opposite, and in return, the burden became a badge I wore every day. Odom had to fight Mr. Ryan and then go to a much worse place and fight grown men. I avenged his death. Down to the first social worker ever assigned to him to the guards who turned a cheek when he was being attacked. I left the warden untouched, though. Something in my gut told me to hold on him but, in the meantime, I made sure that he felt my pain by going after his family instead.
That was my first killing spree, but I made sure not to be reckless or careless. I planned my attacks. Spaced them out. Slaughtered when they least expected it.
I made sure Odom’s death wasn’t in vain.
“Where are you headed when you leave here?” Pacino asked, placing a manila folder in front of me.
“Probably take JD to the mall. Wear him out a little bit. What about you?”
One person that surprised me by their growth was Pacino. He never strayed too far from the streets and even tried to be as vicious as me…he tried. It was because of him that Mitch and I started putting our money into stocks and buying plots of land. He and his father, Mr. Luciano, handled all of our business affairs, cleaning our money, and making sure that we would always be financially taken care of.
“Gotta go with my pops to Boynton. He’s into yachts all of a sudden and wants to purchase one.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “That old ass man is worse than you when it comes to investments.”
I started to speak but stopped seeing Nesha approach the table with JD’s bag. When she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, I leaned in closer to make sure my eyes were seeing things correctly. To anyone else, it looked like I was about to kiss her.
“Ouch,” she hissed at the feel of me rubbing my thumb against the black and purple bruises on her neck. Pacino shaking his head made her drop hers in shame.
This wasn’t the first time we seen Nesha with bruises. Pacino and I went toe to toe with Big JD on many occasions behind him putting his hands on her. If it was up to me he would’ve been dead but every time I pulled out my pistol to end his life she screamed and begged for me not to. O’Nesha knew I felt guilty behind Odom’s death and how her life turned out, so she used that to her advantage in keeping her abusive baby daddy alive. Jeremy Davis Sr. had only so many sunsets before it was lights out.
“Thank you again. Y’all have fun. Bye, my sweet boy.” I could see the emotional battle behind those pretty eyes, but I refused to babysit someone who refused my help.
Once she walked off, Pacino slid a long rectangle box my way. “Don’t open that until you get home and keep it away from the kid. Hit me up in the morning.”