“Chester, I didn’t come over here to start any trouble. I just came to pick up my friend,” I said, my eyes scanning the room further. There were at least half a dozen empty beer bottles and a half-empty Jack Daniels bottle on one of the two end tables by the black leather sofa.
“Me and Desiree had a little run-in and both of us got loose, see. That’s all. Everything is fine now. It’s all good. You can go on back home,” Chester informed me, following me as I started walking through the house. I found Desiree in the kitchen at the table, holding her head. Her long, thick reddish-brown hair was askew, and her white silk blouse was missing a sleeve. The sleeve, balled up on the table in front of Desiree, had been ripped out of its socket. Even with two black eyes and a busted lip, Desiree was a beautiful woman. Next to my five-feet-eight-inch frame, she almost looked like a dwarf at five-three. She was so petite, she could still fit into preteen dresses. Dark purple bruises dotted her lemon yellow skin. With the exception of her slightly protruding teeth and a nose that was too large for her small, heart-shaped face, she was flawless. She could have had any man she wanted. But she had chosen Chester.
“Desiree, are you ready?” I asked, rushing over to her, forcing myself to remain calm. The last thing I wanted Chester to know was that I was scared. Underneath bangs that almost covered Desiree’s eyes were even more bruises. I realized that when I brushed her hair back to kiss her clammy forehead. She flinched as soon as my puckered lips touched her. She looked at Chester before responding, as if seeking his approval.
“Baby, Carmen is taking me to her apartment,” Desiree said meekly, offering a half smile. Blood oozed from a crack on her bottom lip. She cleared her throat and licked her lip dry.
“Now listen, y’all,” Chester began slowly. His beer bottle slipped from his hand, and more glass ended up on the floor. He hopped over the broken glass and rushed over and stood between Desiree and me. “I—we—Desiree, you don’t want to leave me now, do you, sugar?”
Desiree tightened her lips into a thin line and stared hopelessly at me, her eyes shining like new dimes.
“Desiree, what do you want to do?” I asked, getting impatient. Once when I had interfered in an altercation between Desiree and Chester, they had both ended up mad at me! Recalling that, I chose my words carefully. “I really don’t want to be up in here in the first place,” I admitted, glancing toward the door. I rubbed my neck and took a few deep breaths; then I turned to face Desiree. Her head was swiveling like a barber’s chair. She stared from Chester to me and back with her mouth open.
“Carmen, don’t you leave here without me,” Desiree croaked. With her eyes still on Chester, she rose slowly and started walking toward me, limping all the way. I grabbed her arm and led her into the living room.
“Come on now, y’all,” Chester pleaded. “Let’s have a drink and straighten out this mess. What the hell.” We ignored him. I didn’t realize how close he was behind me until he grabbed me by my ponytail and spun me around. “Don’t y’all hear me talkin’?” He blinked hard and glared at me, his hot gaze searing my face. Then, a look of complete despair crossed his face, but he still had a grip on my hair.
“Chester Sheffield, you get your hands off me,” I ordered, pinching, then slapping his hand. He jumped back and grimaced like I had stuck a burning match to his flesh.
He sucked in his breath and threw up his hands and grinned. It was a desperate move for a desperate man. “Look, y’all. I’m sorry—”
“Desiree is leaving with me,” I announced firmly, my words cracking like a whip. I don’t remember everything that happened during those next few tense moments. Chester started shaking his head and waving his hands. Then he reached for Desiree. I don’t know if he was trying to grab her to hug her or hit her, and I never found out, because Desiree’s small fist sucker punched Chester’s jaw and chin. He was just as stunned as I was. With wide eyes, he massaged his battered face.
With a look of complete exasperation, he weaved toward Desiree. “I done had enough of this mess,” he said, calmly reaching for Desiree again. I don’t know why, but I jumped in front of her. I was the one Chester grabbed. I can honestly say that I didn’t know what he planned to do to me, but I covered my head with my hands and closed my eyes. I remember Chester and me falling to the floor, knocking over the coffee table. But I don’t remember picking up the five-pound steel weight that fell off the table. I just remember bringing it down across Chester’s head with all the strength I had. For a few seconds, everything went black, and I stood up. Desiree gasped and dropped to her knees, shaking Chester’s shoulder. There was a huge, mean bruise on his forehead where I had hit him. Thick, dark blood squirted out and cascaded down the sides of his sweaty face. For a few moments that felt like an eternity, Desiree and I stood straight and stiff, like we had been frozen in time. Her eyes were stretched open so wide they looked like saucers. Finally, she let out a weak gasp and dropped to her knees to Chester’s side again.
“Oh shit…oh shit…oh shit,” Desiree chanted, shaking Chester harder this time. “Chester, baby, are you all right?” He moaned for a few seconds and then he stopped. The house was now as quiet as a tomb, and suddenly it felt like one. My T-shirt was soaking wet with my sweat and plastered to my body like a shroud. I could hear my watch ticking. We were several yards from the kitchen, but I could even hear the water dripping in the sink. Chester’s twitching feet were the only things moving. Desiree stood up and staggered over to me, folding, then unfolding her arms. With her bruises, wild hair, and one-sleeved blouse, she looked like she was made up for Halloween.
Chester had pulled my hair so hard, the rubber band that had held my ponytail together had broken. Now my wiry hair looked as unruly as Desiree’s.
“Let’s go,” I said. “Let’s get out of here before he comes to.”
“He’s dead,” Desiree said gently, shaking her head and hugging her chest. The whites of her eyes were red. Blue veins that I had never noticed before ran the length of her neck on both sides. “Carmen, you just killed Chester.”
I fainted.
When I came to, seconds later, I was lying belly-up on top of Chester. Desiree grabbed my arm and pulled me up.
“What did you say?” I managed. I had to leave my mouth open to keep from choking on my own tongue.
“You…killed…Chester,” Desiree whispered, clutching my arm as I stumbled, to keep me from falling again.
Once I was firmly on my feet, I couldn’t move. My entire body had shut down. When I was able to, I moved so close to Desiree, I leaned against her. Somehow, she managed to lead me to the sofa, where she eased me down and propped me up with a pillow like a corpse.
“Girl, you have really fucked us up this time,” she told me in a detached voice, standing over me with her arms folded like a guard.
I couldn’t even look at her face. I kept my eyes on my trembling hands as I spoke. “Desiree, it’s time for you to help me now,” I told her.
CHAPTER 3
“Put that telephone down. Who are you calling?” I yelled at Desiree.
“We have to get help for Chester,” Desiree hollered, then lowered her voice to a whimper. “I’m calling the police.” Her eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of the sockets as she gripped the back of the sofa with one hand. I knocked the telephone out of her hand and it landed on the floor between Chester’s feet.
“Get out of the way,” I yelled. I pushed Desiree to the side and leaned over Chester. A pool of blood had formed around his head and shoulders. The pool was getting wider by the second, saturating all of his hair in front and seeping into his ears and nose. His lips looked like they had been smeared with the same plum-colored lipstick Desiree had on. “Chester, get up,” I managed, wringing my hands so hard they became numb. “Chester, I am not playing with you. Get up, please,” I begged, not touching him. I hopped out of the way to keep from getting his blood on my flimsy house shoes. I looked down at the floor, squinting