The Heart of Revenge Page 8

  “You realise that the only person who can help you right now with that forty thousand U.S. is Qwan, right?”

  “If you married him, it doesn’t mean him must pay for it either, ’cause him know mi don’t like him.”

  “What you have against Qwan? I can’t understand. Because you and him seldom ever talk, so how you hate him so much now?”

  “Mi just don't trust him.”

  Trust? I wondered, why would he even need to trust Qwan, I mean, if anything, it should be Qwan not trusting him. Qwan was the one with the money. Vance had nothing to lose and life to gain.

  “What you mean by trust?”

  “Is alright man, mi just don’t like the brother, leave it at that.”

  “What him do you?” Vance didn’t answer, “VANCE?”

  “What? ... Mi just don't like the brother, him move ...” Vance swallowed the tail of his words. I was a bit agitated.

  “WHAT HIM DO?” I’m not usually loud.

  Everyone was tensed, me waiting on Vance to answer was like waiting on him to empty the water out the sea with a teaspoon. It took forever.

  “WHAT HIM DO?” I repeated, breaking the still silence. Dad’s question came right behind mine

  “Is what him do Vance?” Vance turned facing Dad instead of me,

  “You don't notice anything about the brother?” Dad shook his head while saying,

  “No, is what?”

  “Well mi don't like how him look on mi then ... Like ...”

  “Like how?” Daddy asked

  “Like mi a woman.”

  I reflected on my wedding, getting married, what I was going through for Vance and if he really appreciated it or not. Was I doing the wrong thing? Should I go through with the marriage? What about what had happened lastnight? So many questions running through my head. I replied to Vance,

  “What’s wrong with you? You paranoid little boy?”

  “Lee mi older than you. And mi telling you, him not going to help mi, him not doing it, mi just know.”

  “Answer mi this, you want the help or not?” He answered by slowly nodding yes, I was trying to decipher if the slow nod. Was a reluctance or uncertainty? Or was it a big boldface lie? My mind was in a limbo about what to think of it. What would anyone make of that?

  “Don’t worry about me getting the money, don't I got it from him to help you out for three years now?”

  “Yeah,... but —-”

  “Just stop worry. I promise you, once we married, I’ll get the money, stop fret.”

  But honestly, deep down inside I knew this was not a certainty, good God, we are talking about forty thousand U.S. that his father would have to know about. I just didn't see this happening as smooth as I was trying to make it seem to Vance, but I just didn't want him to worry. If he had a short time left to live, at least he shouldn’t be spending it worrying.

  Mom said nothing. She placed her thumb over one of her eye and the following four fingers over her other eye, trying to fight the tears. I began sucking on my thumb without realising that I was. Mom may lose her only begotten son soon. She tried pulling herself together.

  “For heaven’s sake man Leelia! Is ulcer stomach you want catch like me? Take out your finger out your mouth. You twenty now.”

  Still sucking on my only comfort, I replied,

  “Not this argument again Mommy please ... and I’m not twenty yet.”

  “Qwan know you still sucking finger?”

  “Of course, but what him can do ’bout it? It’s not like him can stop it.”

  Though I was sucking my thumb the taste of Nathan’s dick was stronger in my mouth. I wondered if I had it on my breath, I wondered about kissing Qwan after I said ‘I do’, wondered if he would taste another man’s cock on my breath. Christ lord! What have I done? Heck! I was so stupid to ever thought that’s was the best way to get my revenge at Qwan. What the hell drive me to do something so horrible? I was angry at what Qwan did lastnight but what I did in the bathroom didn’t recover anything and it didn’t make anything better. I didn’t even feel better. I thought I would feel better hurting him back with jealousy. My revenge when I showed Qwan the pictures. Hurt him for what he did lastnight, but honestly, all I felt now was guilt, all I felt was remorse, all I felt was shame. I made a mistake. All I felt was worse.

  You know what, I got to go and brush my teeth. I looked if there were any dinner mints on the table. None was ever there. What was I thinking, this was not Qwan’s house.

  “Qwan need to put his foot down in the relationship and stop make you rule him.” Mom said while I puffed a breath out trying to smell it. I inhaled. Only the scent of the fry frittas and liver for breakfast in the air. I replied to Mom’s statement,

  “Really now?”

  “So what him say about your drinking?”

  I put my elbows on the table leaned my forehead in my hands, squeezing it, and did not answer Mom’s interrogation.

  “Ahh sah, the one thing you take from your worthless father, is the worst thing, him drinking.”

  My eyes were changing. My gray eyes were getting red.

  “Nothing’s wrong with a little vodka ... At least it’s always there to wash away my problems.”

  “Same thing, you sound just like him too, same thing him would say.”

  My voice had aggression inside it when I said,

  “I’m nothing like Dad!”

  And would never be. I’m like my beautiful Mom.

  “Qwan need to start bust your ass when you doing foolishness, like drinking, him too soft.”

  Dad was ignoring the argument or at least it looked like he was trying to. Mom had a playful tone in her voice about Qwan busting my ass. My face had a horrible frown under my hand. I blew my breath upward to my nose again. Tested my breath. Mom continued,

  “Vance wash your hands and come take some picture for mi please.”

  “Alright Mom.” Vance was gazing at the sofa. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, then asked aloud,

  “Is who trouble mi bag mi left in the settee?” Everyone looked towards the sofa.

  “Why?” Mom curiously asked.

  “Mi have some things in it for the club ... And mi hope nobody don't trouble them nor the ice cream mi left in the fridge that mi buy for the little youths.”

  HYC, that’s all Vance seemed to talk about. As the Vice President for the club, and from what I saw, he probably put in four times as much as anyone in the club and ten times more than their lazy president, whom Vance did everything for.

  “What things?” Mom was curious as to what was in the bag. We all knew she wasn’t particularly fond of Vance always spending his money, sometimes all his money on the youths in the youth club.

  “Mi buy some notebooks and do twelve HYC cap to give away at meeting Sunday.”

  “You deaf to stop use your little money on that club. All of them little thieving boys and force-ripe little gal that mi see going to meeting not turning out to nothing good.” That was the loudest Mom’s soft voice spoke all day. Vance walked over to the fridge, opened the freezer door, looked at the box of ice cream, opened it and instantly asked in shock, at the top of his voice,

  “Is who eat out the ice cream so?”

  He looked into the ice-cream box again, then said with unbending certainty, “Is Pinky!”

  “Why everything everybody love blame Pinky?” Daddy asked. “Pinky don't trouble nothing man. If a pin move in here everybody jump on the girl name.”

  Vance’s muddy hand snatched the box out the fridge in one brisk haul, opened it wide and tilted it to Daddy, so he could see into it.

  “Daddy look, look here, who else in the house would’ve do the ice-cream so awful? Look how she walla-walla inna it like she’s a hog. Kill mi dead, is gwabaliscious Pinky do it.”

  “Can be anybody else,” Daddy re-adjusted in the chair, scratched his knee, pulling the leg of his pants up and down to expose his cream and blue diamond socks. “Good gracious man! You acting like nobody els
e don’t have mouth and belly in the house.”

  “Daddy you seeing what mi showing you?”

  “Of course mi seeing, after mi not Ray Charles.”

  “You see how the hole them deep that dig down in the ice-cream? Is Pinky alone deal with ice-cream like so, so bad ... Everybody else just skim the top and scoop it up, but when she go in it, mi don't know why she have to massa-claw and dig-dig it up so much for. Look how the ice-cream look sawka-sawka.” Vance was one slow to anger but obviously his frustration was swelling into it. He continued, “A bet that if mi pee-pee in one soda bottle now and leave it to cool in the fridge Pinky drink it off before daylight. Bet?”

  Mom fanned her hand at Vance and said,

  “Lock up the box and put back the cream in the fridge man. What you gone do, send Pinky go prison for it? You never see her go in there, so you can’t blame her.” She stopped talking, turned her back to him then added, “What if somebody in the house eat little of the ice-cream? Hsst.”

  “Is little that?” Wide-eyed, Vance had a look of complete and utter shock. His expression changed to one of ah-ah!-I-figured-it-out, as he asked, “So is you eat it out then Mommy, and you playing genial?”

  “Lord, you must be Frighten-Friday for the little children them and they not going nowhere in life. Hsst.”

  “How you can say that? You don’t even know one of them and you judging the youths.”

  “Mi don’t have to know none of them. All of them is criminal, all the smallest one wearing Clarks, you know in my time police use to harass street boys wearing Clarks, or natty dread.”

  “Times change. Fashion is not a crime now.”

  “Hsst. You wasting your time and your money with all them board-head children and you don't have anything for yourself yet. Help yourself. That’s what you must do with your money.”

  “Mi suppose to die Christmas, What mi need to have? ... House?”

  Mom went as silent as a gray wall.

  Vance looked down the hallway, marched towards Pinky’s room, hands still muddy, angered. He chewed on his lips and grumbled from a place in his heart where hurtful words come first, foolish action second and regret comes after.

  “Watch mi and the one Pinky!”

  CHAPTER 12

  Before I Touch it

  by: Vybz

  I had her open in the warehouse. Her scent best described as - sexified.

  “You smell so good. I could just ... could just ... Just ... Eat you.”

  And I would. Nastily. Sloppily. Wet and noisy. You like that?

  Her soft peachy color panty tightly squeezed her fleshy vagina into a mouth-watering plump. Her panty was made of a see-through sheer material. At the front was a peach mesh and running up the front was a thin white lace. Victoria Secret written in white straight around in the thin elastic waistband. From the manner in which her panty was straining and buffed high, it looked as if she had stuffed Blue Mountain in her panty. I could see her luscious chocolate mountain of flesh clearly through her peach mesh and lace. No hair. My face alighted. A clean, well-shaved pussy. The tip of my cock was wet. It was steel stiff, hard enough to be used as a bat and break someone’s leg. Her luring scent lingered and flavoured between her crotch with a pure irresistible eroticism that kept pulling my face and tongue closer, and closer, down into her captivating crotch, between her legs, my face, so close, my nose, so close, if I barely breathe, she will feel the tingles in my breath, breathing on her trembling inner thighs, sending shivers through her whole body. I took a long, deep, satisfying inhale, the whiff, perfectly fresh, mouth-wateringly suckable, my pink tongue muscled up and stiff, ready, dying to taste her well-kept pussy. Slide my wet tongue inside her warm waiting slit. Lick her, lick her in-between. Kiss on it. Suck on her sweet sugary pussy till she cums in my mouth.

  It had no smell of sweat - yet. Intoxicated by the ambience of her lovely scent, I noisily sniffed in her scent again, greedily pushing my nose against her, held my breath, trying to keep her marvellousness inside me, breathed out harshly, pouring my hot breath out like a dragon. It steamed out my nose and pattered insensitively against her legs, she quivered, just slightly quivered. I lightly blew a soft breath on her, between her thighs. She quivered hard. I stretched the head of my pink, stiff, pointed, tongue towards her, towards her thigh, licked the spot, the spot just below the foot of her panty, on the inner side of her thigh, flicked it fluidly, slithered it freely on her thigh, my lips clasped around the flesh of her thigh, just barely licking and sucking so close to her sweetest spot. She went fucking mad, the feeling of me passionately sucking close to her pussy was sending her up the wall. She grabbed my head. Both hands. Terrified, can’t withstand to ever having me touch her right now. She’s too aroused. Too turned on. Too horny. Wanting me to touch her, suck her, but can’t stand it, her legs can’t stand straight, she can't stand another touch. I had to touch her, I had to suck. I squeezed her breasts, wholesomely sucked up the flesh of her thigh into my gifted mouth. Wetting the light baby hair on her inner thigh with my sloppy mouth. The wet spot became more sensitive than the rest of her thigh, she could feel where it was wet, it felt cooler, more tingly, more sensitive, making her legs jitter. Imagine the feeling she must be feeling if her whole body is shaking, so hard, so hard, whenever my breath blows onto the wet spot on her thigh. She tried not to shake, but she can’t, she feels my every breath on the wet spot of her sensitive inner thigh, she shook like crazy. The baby hair on her leg stood stiff, I sucked up her thigh again, wetting her thigh. My warm mouth, wetting the light baby hair on her skin. Blew on it softly. My mouth went closer to her pussy, sucked her thigh up in my mouth, all the way up, mid-way my tongue, the brim of my lip curled backward, bracing against the elastic of her panty’s leg, lightly touching the crevice of her thigh and sacred flesh, deep-sucking her, so suckingly, my cheeks sunk into two deep dimples, my tongue working smoothly, making flowy waves over her skin as I tongue kissed her thigh, closing my eyes, humming in horny delight into her flesh, the vibration of my base voice humming into her thigh sent thrills up her pussy and twisted her spine. She rose her hips, held my head steady and tried to feed her pussy into my face, my mouth, force her pussy down on my warm lengthy tongue, sit on it, ride it. Her juices drizzled down, seeping to the edges of her horny orifice, wetting the walls of her soft pink lips.

  Imagine the feeling.

  And then I realised I hadn’t even touched her pussy yet.

  CHAPTER 13

  A Clean Heart, Muddy Hands and Who Breed

  by: Vance Lexings

  You ever hear ’bout vex? Jah know, is because you don’t know how it hurt mi bad. Just burning mi and eating up mi brain, if mi don’t tackle Pinky ’bout how she dig-up the ice-cream, mi can't cool off. And how she one manage to eat off almost half of the three gallon cream? Her belly must cut her today. Mi mind can’t settle down. Not even wash mi don’t wash off mi hands, is straight to Pinky room mi march, elbowed her door three times, three loud bangs, ‘BOOP! BOOP! BOOP!’ like mi a landlord and she owe mi seven months’ rent. A little of the mud flashed from my hand, splashed onto her white door. She didn’t open the door quickly. I couldn’t wait, before it was opened I yelled through the closed door,

  “WANGA GUT Pinky! You awful eeh gal! ...” Mommy hates when I use the Patois word, ‘nyam’ instead of the English word, ‘eat’, as if it is not just a Jamaican word for eat, or as if it is a badword, but to how mi head on fire, is that word mi use to tell Pinky mi mind, ‘nyam’. Mi keep on cursing, “You one sit down and nyam off nearly gallon and a half of the cream, mi hope is so-so fart you fart up yourself in the wedding later. Pure fart.” Mi don’t like wish bad on people, but Pinky really got on the tip of mi nerves, God know. Mi continue to tell her anything that came to my mouth, “Mi hope you don’t stop fart till you batty bust! SPLIT UP INNA TWO! You too craven man!”

  The door still wasn’t opened and I could swear I heard her laughing away inside. I elbowed the door again, one knock, ‘BOOP!’ pure
mud fly on the door. Mi start to curse again, “You love your belly too much. You not going to stop nyam out people things out the fridge till you nyam poison. Watch if mi not going to set rat poison with icing ontop inside there for you. Make it bang your rass belly.” I loved Pinky but right now I just had to tell her what was on my mind and how I felt. It really hurt mi star, because mi done plan everything for the youth club and Pinky not even look like is taste she taste little of the ice-cream is wad she wad her rass belly with the cream. I continued to fume, “A bet once mi pretty up the rat poison you thief it out. And nyam it off. Watch if you not going to swell up and stretch out.”

  Pinky didn’t sound peaceful when she yelled back from inside her room,

  "You! You mustn’t call nobody craven, who craven like you? And when you going to no little party or nine night you walk with your pickle-pepper in hitch up inside of your back-pocket. Just waiting on the people them free food.” I heard a break of silence then she belled out as if angry,"You must stop walk with pickle pepper in your back pocket man!”

  She stepped on my corn, I grew angry, shouted loud “CRAVEN GAL! You too craven for gal.”

  It’s not wicked mi wicked why mi calling mi sister craven, but anybody who swallow down one small nail in their food when they eating, don’t deserve to pass it out easy, they deserve to pee-pee it out and have pure problem to pee-pee it out, because is just raw-chaw cravenness that. Pinky never chewing her food properly yet, just cut and swallow. Yes, Pinky swallow one small nail in her food already.

  “You see when mi nyam out nothing?” She swung the door open, looked at me, spoke slower and dipped her voice a little lower, asking “You not getting ready? ... You come to mi room with your mud-up hands and beating down people door like the house burning down. The house a burn down?” A smirk stretched her lips towards her ears. I could sense that she was guilty. She almost wanted to laugh, I could see the muscles flinching at the corner of her lips in her big red face, fighting to hold back her giggles, she smiled while saying, “Mi can nyam all the ice-cream mi feel like, mi not farting down nowhere, after mi not lactose-intolerant or have weak bowels.” It sounded funny, but mi never laugh. Mi vex till mi want bust. She couldn’t hold down the laugh anymore, she burst out into a big hell of a down-town laugh, with one hand patting her thigh. From that gesture, nobody can’t tell me is not Pinky nyam out the ice cream, all if God come off the cross today and tell mi is not Pinky, mi still won’t believe. She too terrible man, mi eyes beaming anger into hers, red like blood and she still laughing and said. “And even if mi belly take mi today, whole heap a toilet tissue in the bathroom, so what? Mi not afraid of running belly.”