PROLOGUE

PRESENT DAY

“You ain’t nothing but a nasty bitch!” Drake yelled at his girl on the phone like she stole from him. “I knew you was a whore when I got with you…just thought I could change you. Even then your pussy stank more than necessary for a chick claiming she just showered.”

The cellphone was smashed against Karen Jester’s ear so hard that her temple throbbed as she took each insult to the heart, causing her to feel worse than she already had. Pressed in the corner of an old raggedy elevator as it rocked slowly downward, toward the deepest level of the building, she was devastated.

Just an hour earlier she’d been caught in an unsavory position and was doing her best to plead her case but he was digging in that ass with no chill. “You not even letting me talk, bay.”

“Bitch, don’t call me bay!”

Frustrated, her head drooped backwards and when the elevator dinged and the doors opened, she was surprised at the silence. With the exception of two cars—hers and a candy apple red Acura TLX, the garage was somewhat desolate.

“I know you don’t believe me, Drake,” she pleaded, as her long brown legs stretched toward her ride. Possessing the body of a dancer, even the simple act of walking was done with extreme sexuality. “I haven’t given you much of a reason to trust me. Just know that it only happened once and it won’t ever again.”

“You fucked up, Karen. You don’t get to ask for forgiveness.”

She felt gut punched.

What did he want if it wasn’t for her to beg?

Removing the keys from her blue Fendi purse, she deactivated the alarm to her banged out, old ass grey Ford Fiesta—that had been in so many accidents the passenger side door wouldn’t open without a push and a tug. “I’m never gonna give up on you.” She eased inside and tossed her purse in the passenger seat, the contents falling everywhere. “If you not in my life I don’t want to live. I’m telling you the…”

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean,” he said cutting her off. “The way I feel I’m liable to press the barrel to your scalp and do the honors myself. I ain’t wit’ the mental games no more.”

She closed the door and exhaled. Hands resting on the steering wheel she said, “But it’s true. Maybe if you hadn’t fucked that other bitch this wouldn’t—”

“Don’t turn your shit around on me! You said you forgave, so we started a clean slate. I’m never gonna…”

His voice trailed off because her attention was suddenly kidnapped. Leaning in, she looked ahead and saw the glow from the radio illuminate the silhouettes of two women sitting in the Acura in front of her vehicle. There was tension between them— she was certain. Their bodies moved aggressively and the car rocked slightly. She couldn’t make out their faces but when she placed the phone down, despite Drake talking, she could hear the faint sound of them arguing.

“You there, bitch?” He yelled from the handset.

With eyes still glued on the Acura, she placed the phone against her ear again. “Yes…but I think something’s happening,” she whispered.

“You just realizing that shit? Or have you forgotten that I caught you topping my brother off? In our apartment at that? You know that nigga been wanting to smash from…”

The handset drifted from her ear as she focused on the women in the red car again. When she blinked a few times she could now see that each was holding a weapon pointed at the other.

Suddenly a bright light mixed with the sound of gunfire lit up the vehicle, shattering the window. Glass flew everywhere, crashing onto the concrete. Shivering, Karen screamed and placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her cry. Slowly she picked up the phone and said, “I have to call you back.” She hung up before he could respond.

Carefully she pushed her door open and slowly extended a leg out, followed by the other. She could hear her own heartbeat in her eardrums due to the deafening silence. Leaving her door ajar in case she had to double back, she crept toward the Acura to investigate.

“What am I doing?” she said to herself. “God…please help me.”

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