The Best Revenge is Your Paper

By Kendra Rainey

Two girls from completely different backgrounds are forced into each other’s lives when they both lose their parents at a young age. September, the sassy grey-eyed BBW and Hazel a Cuban girl who isn’t afraid to say what’s on her mind become inseparable.

Life at the Girl’s Home in Dallas was rough and poverty stricken, especially without any one to trust. They were tired of being bullied at school, wearing dingy clothes and hand-me-downs. But, there was no way out.

Until they meet two brothers Makavelli & Kanaan from New York at school. They both had their hands on a little cash, time, and brain power to help them escape from the home.

Falling in love young wasn’t exactly what September and Hazel needed but it was the come up that brought them closer. After the guys run out of their money, the girls are forced to work minimum wage jobs that doesn’t add up to the lifestyle that they dreamed of. The girls had bigger plans.

After Makavelli and Kanaan get caught up in the streets, they are forced to fend for themselves completely. September takes on a job as the driver for the money truck that picks up the money. Hazel, takes on a job as a call center representative for one of the most prestigious credit card companies in the world. They both become a force to be reckoned with as their fingers get an itch for criminal activity in the worst way.

Will greed tear the girls apart? Will love resurface and change plans? How far will this life of committing crimes last? Stay tuned and find out why the best revenge is your paper….

• Language: English
• Publisher: Royalty Publishing House
• Release date: Feb 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781648405693

Book preview

Prologue

September 11, 1986 at 12:30 a.m.

Dallas, Texas- Baylor Medical Center of Dallas…

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"P ush, push, push! " the doctor yelled as Marion grabbed a hold of the hospital bed. It had been thirteen hours of hard, excruciating labor.

Okay. Keep pushing, Marion, the baby is almost out the womb. As the head pierced the birth canal, it felt like a watermelon bursting out from the inside of her. After the head was out of the womb, the doctor removed the child the rest of the way as Marion pushed for the last time and fell back as a sign of relief.

The doctor cut the cord and placed the baby into the incubator as the nurses weighed her and wiped her off. She was 5 pounds and 3 ounces.

Now that the labor was over, the doctor pulled the placenta cord gently with one hand, while pressing and kneading her uterus with the other as he exerted downward pressure on the top of Marion’s uterus, asking Marion to push at the appropriate time.

Finally, after delivering the placenta, the doctor brought the baby girl over to her smiling.

I don’t want to see her. Marion pushed the doctor’s arm away from her, as the doctor attempted to place the baby on her chest.

Are you sure? You know after you sign those papers that she goes into the system, the doctor suggested.

Get the fuck out of here, BITCH! Marion yelled in anguish, as all the doctors and nurses quickly exited the room.

Marion cried a stream of tears as she realized her baby was finally here. Even though her baby girl was healthy without any health issues, she didn’t want to hold her or see her, but it was second nature for a mother to become attached immediately. She just pushed her out as if she was nothing.

A few hours had passed and the nurse walked back in. Clearing her throat to wake Marion, she checked her arms and noticed the marks left from needles.

How long have you been using? she asked, patting her arms where she could see the track marks.

None of your got damn business, bitch! Marion spat, snatching her arm away from the nurse.

I don’t care about you calling me names. I’m here to do my job, and it’s to protect that beautiful, healthy little girl that you just gave birth to, she explained.

I wouldn’t hurt her, she replied in anguish.

I just need to know a couple of things and I’ll do my best to get you out of here in a couple of days.

A couple of days?

Yes, a couple of days, she spat. You just had a baby and you lost a great amount of blood. You severely need a blood transfusion.

What?

Look, we are going to need your cooperation for the next few days while you are here. Please refrain from using any derogatory words towards staff. We are here to help you, but that’s only if you allow us to. It’s either you let us help you or you die in these streets.

Marion rolled her eyes as the nurse checked her blood pressure. So many thoughts were running through her head as she watched the nurse check her vitals.

I was supposed to be here.

Huh? the nurse inquired.

I was raped when I was thirteen. I had dreams just like you, Ms. Lady, to become a nurse and save people’s lives. My dream was taken from me.

I’m sorry to hear that.

I’m twenty now and this is the first time my baby has made it. Been pregnant six times and now that I finally went almost full term with this baby, I don’t want her.

Why after all this time and so many pregnancies?

Because I was raped again. My pimp sold me to a white man and he knew I hated white people.

Come on, Marion, she is still your blood. Are you telling me that this beautiful baby is not enough for you to stop what you are doing?

I can’t, she cried. I can barely take care of myself.

I understand that, but what if I could find you all the resources? What if I could get you a place to stay? Would you then consider this?

Marion nodded her head as she held on to the nurse’s hand. You’re my angel, she stated, with tears falling heavily.

I’m just here to help. I see something in you even through all of that nonsense that you were speaking earlier.

Funny, you are the only one who even came back to help me, Marion replied.

I came back because you need help, and that baby girl needs a mother. I wouldn’t want my baby to go into the system, but if you are not capable of raising her then that is different.

You think I want to hurt my baby? I love her, that’s why I’m letting her go, Marion explained.

Let me help you. I think you can change your life, Marion.

I’m willing to do what I need to do.

I brought you these papers, this is just to give her a name, the nurse suggested, placing the paper into her hands with a pen.

I’ll give you a few seconds.

September, Marion stated under her breath but loud enough for the nurse to hear.

Huh? the nurse asked, turning around after closing the door back.

I would like to name her September. She does have the same birthday as my late mother.

Wow… then September it is. That is a beautiful name, the nurse said as she smiled. By the way, I’m Violet, she replied.

Thank you, Violet, Marion stated as she smiled back.

Two days passed. Marion received her blood transfusion and began to feel better. She still hadn’t made it to see her daughter in the NICU.

Violet promised to bring back all the necessary paperwork for Marion to go to rehab and find a better place to go, so she could be able to raise her daughter.

Marion walked to the front reception desk, asking for Violet the next day.

Sorry, ma’am, she’s off today and tomorrow, the nurse stated, picking up the phone as it rang continuously.

Can I assist you with anything else? she asked Marion rudely.

With her gown open completely in the back, exposing her buttocks and sanitary pad, she rolled her eyes and walked back into the room.

Marion sat on the edge of the hospital bed, thinking about her life as another nurse walked in and placed her discharge papers on the bed.

Can I have a pair of panties and pads please? Marion asked.

Sure, it’s some in the cabinet, and please don’t grab them all.

I won’t, Marion snapped, watching the nurse leave as she shut the door.

Marion opened the closet and her eyes grew big at all the supplies in the cabinet. There were gloves, condoms, boxes of pads, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, etcetera in the closet.

Rubbing her hands with delight, she began to stuff her suitcase immediately. After she was done, she sat down to eat her last meal from the hospital. Marion was thinking of the inevitable. She didn’t know what to do and where to go.

In two days, Violet would come back to work her shift and help her, but would September be gone by then? The instant rush of feeling another needle in her system embalmed with heroin, sent a rush through her spine. It was already too many days away and she was feening like crazy.

The door opened as Dameon entered. Marion swallowed her spit as she looked up to see him, with nothing but fear in her eyes. Her heart was pulsating and beating fast as he walked near her bed, grabbing her by her throat.

Bitch, why the fuck did you lie? he asked, choking her as he pulled her into the air.

Marion’s legs were dangling into the air, depriving her of from oxygen as she began to slowly lose consciousness.

Stop… she tried to scream. Stop, Dameon, she tried to blurt out. She couldn’t utter a word as she turned purple and faded away slowly.

Dameon was her long-time pimp since she was fifteen years old, and she never went against him. This time was no different; she didn’t betray him. She was at a small hospital in Dallas. When they found out that she was a drug addict and was suffering from preeclampsia, they placed her in an ambulance where they headed to Baylor Medical Center where she could be watched.

She was so sick after giving birth that she had no way to get in touch with him. Her first move when she got out was to get help, but it was a little too late. She didn’t think he would have found her.

Violet opened the door in her regular attire. Put her down, oh my God! she yelled as he released Marion from the chokehold before pushing Violet into the wall, causing her to fall and hit the back of her head as she fell on the floor and he ran out quickly.

When she woke up, she was being examined by her colleagues, and was on a stretcher.

Are you okay, Violet? one of the nurses asked, patting her back.

Yes, I just have a really bad headache. Is Marion okay? she asked, removing herself from the bed.

The nurses looked at each other as they began to speak. She didn’t make it, Violet. That man choked her to death, they both explained.

Oh, my God, she cried. I should have come earlier today. I could have prevented this.

You can’t blame yourself for this, one of the nurses tried to assure her.

Violent walked out of the room and ran to the NICU until she stopped in front of the window, staring at September sleeping peacefully.

Dear God, please watch over this baby girl, Violet cried, kneeling to the floor as she held both of her hands in prayer form.

One

Growing Up September…

Growing up, we had it so hard. I was raised by the nurse who saved my life. She was my guardian angel for sure. I appreciated everything that she did for me, knowing that she was struggling herself with three kids.

We ate Ramen noodles almost every single day. Violet worked so hard as a nurse at the hospital that her husband divorced her. He was a sad piece of shit anyway. He was upset that she adopted me; it was all that I heard. They fussed and screamed for years at each other, all the way until I was twelve years old.

Violet had three sons already, which meant that I added to the equation. It was Suge, Michael, and Levert. Suge was the oldest and the nicest one to me; he treated me like a sister. Michael and Levert couldn’t care less about me, and they hated my guts.

I learned early how to cook from Violet. She made sure that I knew how. It was just so hard because the welfare office didn’t want to give her any food stamps because of her nursing income. We literally recycled clothes and shoes. Her income went on a car note, mortgage, and household bills. We didn’t have anything.

Sometimes, I felt so alone when I went to school. My brothers played football so they were extremely popular because of the games they won for the school. The coaches kept them in so much fresh gear that it was insane. Meanwhile, my clothes were dingy.

I already brought attention to myself just by being a big girl. I suffered daily from being picked on and bullied. I wanted to be a cheerleader. I wanted to dance.

I sat alone at lunch. I never even had a dollar for the vending machine. I swear I wanted to crawl under a rug and die.

But I began to sneak into the auditorium and eat my lunch behind the curtains. Everyone would laugh at me during school. They talked about my clothes, weight, hair, and my eyes. Kids were the cruelest. Sad part about it was this was just middle school. I still had more crazy years of torture.

I began to have a flare for math. I loved math so much that I took AP Math classes and Science. I was great at both subjects. It was the only thing I possessed that kept me sane.

I begin to study all types of careers in my computer class.