Sweet Little Lies (27 page)

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Authors: Bianca Sloane

BOOK: Sweet Little Lies
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“Now, I’m not about to go to jail for killing you, although I would be doing the world a favor, and
no one
would miss you for one fucking minute,” Mark said, his voice quivering with quiet rage. “But I want you out of my house now, and don’t you ever,
ever
come back.” The phone rang, but he ignored it, tightening his grip around her thick, fleshy neck. Finally, he pushed Geneva against the wall as the phone continued to ring. She rubbed her neck, trying to catch her breath.

The only reason Mark decided to answer the phone was because he thought it might be Kelly, an associate, or even one of the partners. He went to answer it, but for some reason, the bedroom phone was off its base, so he had to go to the living room to answer it. He hesitated, not wanting to leave Geneva alone in the bedroom but afraid she would make some kind of noise so whoever was on the other end would hear.

“Stay here,” he said before he darted into the living room to grab the phone. It turned out to be their cleaning lady needing to change her schedule because she had to go out of town for a few days for her mother’s funeral.

Since Mark had left the room, he didn’t see Geneva pull a condom out of her purse, unwrap it, roll it between her fingers, and drop it into the bed sheets.

By the time Mark made it back to the bedroom, he had no idea Geneva had sealed his fate.

Grabbing Geneva by the wrist, he dragged her to the front door. He stopped and looked at her. “You’ll be hearing from me on Monday. And don’t fucking call me before then.”

“Take your hands off me.” Geneva winced. “That hurts.”

“I don’t really give a shit.” He opened the door and shoved Geneva through it. “You don’t call me before Monday,” he repeated as he slammed the door and locked it. He leaned back against the door, his breath coming in scared, angry gusts.

This was almost over. He was almost through with this nightmare.

Sickened at the thought that Geneva had even an inch of her body on the bed he shared with Kelly, Mark rushed into the bedroom and stripped the bed, not noticing the condom. He dropped the sheets next to the hamper and then went to the linen closet to pull out a fresh set. He hurried to make the bed, sweat seeping down his back and chest. He stood back, satisfied, and then jumped in the shower. He dressed, grabbed his keys and briefcase, and went down to his car.

Final Hours…

H
e thought about Kelly, how much he loved and needed her. Mark pulled into his office garage and turned off the ignition. He sat with his eyes closed for moment. He hoped Geneva would rot in hell for everything she’d done. No, he’d make
sure
she rotted in hell. Mark pursed his lips together, opened his eyes, then got out of the car. He made his way up to his office and sat down at his desk. He picked up his office phone and dialed.

“Hey, brother.”

“She came to the house this morning. I almost killed her.”

“Damn,” Tim paused. “But you didn’t, right?”

Mark let out a bitter laugh. “I said almost. Don’t think I didn’t want to, though.”

“What now?” Tim asked.

“I got her man. I got her. I got all the evidence I need to get rid of her forever. I got her to admit to trying to kill Kelly, threatening my son, extorting money from me all this time…I’ve got all that evidence, man. She only has one choice. Give me custody, take a huge paycheck, and disappear, or spend the rest of her life in jail.”

“What about Kelly?”

Mark let out a long sigh as he swiveled in his chair to look out his window at the Chicago skyline. “I just keep hoping she’ll understand once I tell her the whole story, that she won’t leave me, that’ll she’ll accept my son…” His voice trailed off. “You know all this time, I’ve been trying to keep her safe, keep M.J. safe…”

“I’m surprised you haven’t cracked up by now, the tightrope you’ve been walkin’,” Tim said.

Mark shook his head. “Yeah, well…I’m telling Kelly tomorrow. I’d give anything in the world not to have to tell her about Geneva, but I have to.”

“Like you said, it’ll be over soon. And man, I know Kelly loves you, she’ll understand. And maybe now I’ll finally get to meet her.”

“I couldn’t put you in the position of knowing what you know and having to pretend in front of her.”

“I know, I know. And it’s alright. You’ve done what you had to for all this time, and like you said, you’re almost free.”

Mark sighed again and got lost in the view out his window. “Yeah. Yeah. Alright, man. I’ll let you know.”

“Hang in. I love you, man,” Tim said.

He smiled. “Yeah, brother. Me too.”

Mark replaced the receiver and tried to concentrate on getting in a few hours of work, not knowing they’d be his last.

Sealed Fate…

M
ark pulled into his parking space at home. He just wanted to wrap himself around Kelly and hold on to her for dear life before everything changed. He just needed tonight with her.

He rode the elevator up and turned the key in the lock. His heart stopped when he opened the door and saw the pile of suitcases and garbage bags and a condom on top of everything.

What the hell had Geneva done?

He dropped his keys and ran to the kitchen where Kelly was standing, drinking a glass of wine, her hazel eyes rimmed in red, her beautiful face swollen from crying.

“Baby, it’s not what you think—”

“Don’t bother, Mark,” Kelly said calmly as she picked up her wine glass. “I already know. You’ve been fucking some skank behind my back.”

“It’s not like that, baby. Just let me explain.”

Kelly looked up at him. “Don’t. Don’t say one goddamned word. You can tell everything to my lawyer.” Her voice was ice cold.

“Kelly, please look at me.” Her response was to take a long swallow from her wine glass. She put the glass back down and looked at him.

“As you can see, I’ve already packed your things. I would appreciate it if you get out of my house. Now.”

He was getting desperate and felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Baby, this is our house—”

“The minute you brought your dirty business into our bedroom, this stopped being
our
house. Now leave.”

He shook his head. “Not until you let me explain.”

Mark took a step toward Kelly, when she grabbed a knife out of the holder on the counter next to the wine bottle. Mark stopped short and held his hands up. He wanted to cry for what he was making her do and struggled to keep the tears inside.

He swallowed, and his own tears began their inevitable slide downward. “I never wanted this to happen. I was terrified this would happen,” he whispered.

She set the knife down on the table, her hand still on the handle. She placed her other hand over her eyes and started to cry again. Mark licked his lips and took a few steps toward her, hoping he could convince her to come into the living room. He had to get through to her.

He took a few more tentative steps toward her. She heard him or sensed him, because her eyes flew open, and she turned.

“Mark, just leave me the hell alone!” she screamed as she swung around, the knife still in her hand.

Mark gasped as he realized what had happened. He felt his insides rip apart, and it felt like…water…draining…draining out of him…

She stabbed me. Oh, God, she stabbed me. Oh, Kelly. Kelly.

“Kelly,” he whispered.

He kept his eyes on hers, as if that would keep him here, keep him with her. Kelly tried to pull the knife out, but that only made it worse, and he grunted. He looked up at her, saw her tears, felt his own unbearable pain. She was trying to pull the knife out, but it wasn’t working. Finally, the knife came free, and he stumbled backwards. He struggled to stay standing, but his legs started to give way. He could barely hear her yelling out to him, her words garbled, like they had fallen underwater.

Desperately he clutched for the marble countertop. He missed and continued to slide away from Kelly. He felt the heel of his shoe land on a piece of the glass Kelly had slammed down. He skidded across the floor on that shard, knocking over the bottle of wine Kelly had set down earlier. The impact of the bottle shattering against the tile gave a faint echo, like it was coming from a far away room. He slammed back against the pantry door, and his head clunked on the doorknob. He slid down, clutching his stomach.

So much blood…so much blood…

He felt Kelly stroke his head and face. It felt so good. So soft. He could have stayed there forever. She was talking. He could only barely make out the words, see her mouth moving. He heard her run into the living room. He grunted softly and stared unseeing at the kitchen counter. The darkness was coming. He heard her talking some more and then felt her hand squeeze his. With all the strength he had left, he squeezed back. He continued to hear her talk but couldn’t understand what she was saying. She was stroking his face and…her voice…it was so…quiet. She smiled at him. He smiled back faintly.

“I love you, Kelly,” he whispered. “I’ll always love you.”

Mark closed his eyes.

One More Piece Of Business…

K
elly’s eyes popped open.

She was on a bus back to Chicago, and it was now pulling into Union Station. It was ten p.m., and she’d been dozing. New Orleans had taken everything she had mentally, physically, spiritually, and she didn’t want to run anymore. She couldn’t.

However, she had one more thing to do before she turned herself in.

The station was empty, and Kelly kept blinking her eyes to try and wake herself up and get her bearings. She stepped out into the crisp night air and looked around for a cab. She saw one on the opposite side of the street, ran over, and got inside.

“The Harlem exit off the Kennedy. I’ll tell you where to go from there,” she instructed.

Kelly leaned back against the seat cushions. She hoped her car was where she left it and, if it was, that a swarm of cops wasn’t all over it. She rolled down the window a little and let the rush of cool wind wash over her. It rejuvenated her a bit, and she took several deep breaths to steel herself for the task ahead. She thought about Mark and what she and Geneva had done to him. He had tried so hard to get her to listen, but she just didn’t want to hear the sound of his voice. How would she have reacted if he’d been able to tell her the whole story that day? Kelly put her head down and looked at her hands, which were clenched together in her lap.

She would never know. The only thing she knew for sure was that Mark would still be alive.

The cabbie got off at Harlem, and she told him which way to turn until he reached the street where she’d left her car. Miraculously, it was still there. She said a silent ‘thank you’ and dug into her wallet to get money for the fare. That three thousand dollars Patric had wired her was dwindling fast. She scrounged in her purse for her keys before she got in her car, looked around to make sure no one was around, opened the door, and got in. She looked out the windows to see if a throng of police was jumping out to grab her.

There were none.

She let out a slow breath and started the car.

The Two Mrs. Monroes…

G
eneva rolled over and looked at the clock. It was a little after midnight. She sat up and heard it again.

Who in the hell was ringing her doorbell at this hour?

Groaning, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and shoved her feet into her red house shoes. Whoever it was must have been leaning on the doorbell. Before she went to the door, she went to the closet, pulled out her .22, and tucked it into the elastic waistband of her silky blue pajama bottoms.

“Damn, just a minute,” Geneva grumbled to herself. She looked out the window next to the front door but couldn’t see anyone. She shrugged, turned away from the door, pulling the gun out of her pants. The doorbell rang again, and this time, she yanked the door open, stunned at who was on the other side.

Kelly rushed through the doorway. Geneva was so startled, the gun slipped out of her hand and into the potted plant next to the front door.

“So, finally, we meet,” Kelly said, slamming the door behind her.

Geneva put her hand on her hip, thinking about how fun it would be to blow this bitch’s brains out.


“What the hell are you doing here? Don’t think I won’t call the police on your ass.”

“Shut up. I’m doing the talking. And I wish you would call the police. I
know
they would be
very
interested to know what I know about you.”

Geneva narrowed her eyes. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Kelly snorted. “Well, I could start with how you raped my husband, stalked him, bullied him into marrying you, extorted money from him, threatened to kill your son, tried to kill me…” She stopped. “Should I keep going, or have you heard enough?”

“You know I can’t wait for you to go to jail so you can be somebody’s bitch.”

Kelly chuckled. “Well, you’d know all about being somebody’s prison bitch, wouldn’t you?”

“Heifah, I don’t have time for this. I’m calling the police.” Geneva turned, and Kelly ran after her, flinging her around until they were face-to-face.

“I may have stabbed Mark, but you all but put the knife in my hand. You didn’t have sex with Mark that day. You came to the house, and you made sure I would find that condom you dropped into the bed. What were you planning, Geneva, huh? What, did you think that Mark was going to leave me for you?” Kelly laughed. “Please. He couldn’t
stand
you.”

“So what if we didn’t have sex that day? It didn’t mean you was supposed to kill him. What the fuck is wrong with you? You crazy?”

“Oh, my God.” Kelly shook her head. “You really thought he would leave me, didn’t you? That I would find that condom, assume he was having an affair, throw him out, and he would come running to you.” She dropped her head in her hands. “Ugh…you stupid, stupid woman.”

“It would have worked, too, if you hadn’t…” Geneva’s eyes welled up, and it hit Kelly; in her own twisted way, Geneva did love Mark. Geneva wiped a tear away before looking back up at Kelly. With a huge grunt and flaring nostrils, Geneva pushed Kelly, and she fell to the floor. Before she could recover, Geneva was in front of her again.

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