Secrets Part 2: Unmasked

By JoJo Mac

No friendship is ever perfect, no matter how it might appear. When hidden truths are revealed, relationships fall apart in sometimes violent, ugly ways. Natasha, Kylie, Keri, Amanda, and Melanie are five college friends who all decided to live in Florida. Everything was going great for each of them in both love and career until the unthinkable occurs.

Melanie kills Amanda and goes on the run. Natasha, Kylie, and Keri mourn the loss of their friend, shocked by Melanie’s horrific behavior. Soon, though, their mourning takes a backseat to their own personal turmoil, and the bond between friends continues to break. In the meantime, Melanie finds herself trapped in a web of deceit.

The saga continues in Secrets: Unmasked as these women’s true natures are revealed, for better or worse, and their friendship is rocked by deceit, jealousy, and murder.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Apr 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665704014

JoJo Mac

JoJo Mac is a singer, songwriter, and news presenter. She loves reading and doing crossword puzzles and is crazy good at Scrabble. She is an avid tennis player who lives in Philadelphia with her husband. She is also the author of Secrets: Mixed Up Moods and Deadly Attitudes.

Book preview

SECRETS PART 2

UNMASKED

JoJo Mac

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Copyright © 2021 JoJo Mac.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by

any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author

except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are

models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

CREDITS:

Editor: Shanna Morgan

Co-Editor: Andrea Jones

Proofreader: Reid ‘Diggy Brown’ Taylor

Cover Design: Joseph "Caesar’ Frei

Photographer: Maurice Cox

Cover Girl: Krystal Watson

ISBN: 978-1-6657-0400-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-0401-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021904619

Archway Publishing rev. date: 4/6/2021

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PREFACE

INTRODUCTION

Chapter 1     JERRY

Chapter 2     MELANIE

Chapter 3     MIGUEL

Chapter 4     KERI

Chapter 5     NATASHA

Chapter 6     KERI

Chapter 7     KYLIE

Chapter 8     THE FBI

Chapter 9     NATASHA

Chapter 10   HOLLYWOOD

Chapter 11   NATASHA

Chapter 12   MILES

Chapter 13   MELANIE

Chapter 14   MIGUEL

Chapter 15   KYLIE

Chapter 16   NATASHA

Chapter 17   MELANIE

Chapter 18   HOLLYWOOD

Chapter 19   KYLIE

Chapter 20   MILES

Chapter 21   MIGUEL

Chapter 22   MELANIE

Chapter 23   NATASHA

Chapter 24   MIGUEL

Chapter 25   ISABELLA

Chapter 26   KYLIE

Chapter 27   NATASHA

Chapter 28   MELANIE

Chapter 29   JERRY

Chapter 30   KYLIE

Chapter 31   MELANIE

Chapter 32   NATASHA

Chapter 33   TANYA

Chapter 34   JERRY

Chapter 35   MELANIE

Chapter 36   HOLLYWOOD

Chapter 37   JERRY

Chapter 38   TANYA

Chapter 39   NATASHA

Chapter 40   KYLIE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First, let me say a big ‘Thank You’ to all the family members, friends, fans and other supporters who purchased my first book Secrets: Mixed up Moods and Deadly Attitudes. You are greatly appreciated. I know you won’t be able to deny part two as it takes you further into the lives of these unpredictable characters.

Special thanks to my Editor, Shanna Morgan for taking the time out of her busy schedule to make sure I got it right. You did an awesome job, couldn’t have asked for more.

My Co-Editor Andrea Jones, thank you so much for your input. Both you and Shanna have been riding with me since the first book, being relentless in your support. Words are not enough to express how grateful I am.

I must say a special thank you to Reid Diggy Brown Taylor for the wonderful post-editing job. You have been one of my biggest media support for the first book. You understood each character in a way many people don’t. You got me. I know you have been waiting patiently for part two as well, but now the wait is over.

Thank you very much Joseph Caesar Frei for another impressive cover. I got loads of compliments on the cover art for part one. You always come through with flying colors

To all Radio Personnel who gave me promotional time for SECRETS: Mixed Up Moods and Deadly Attitudes. My friends Dr. Evelyn Richardson (Ev Rich), Bevin ‘Doctor B’ Walker, Meelo Medina, Anjahla ‘Selassie’ Bryant (Selassie). Thank you so very much for not just support for the book but the music as well.

To all my supporters, I am grateful to you for your interest in what I do. You could have bought any other book but you bought mine and for that I thank you. Don’t forget to go over to Amazon and give it a review, let me know what you think.

To my Cover Girl, the beautiful Krystal of Krystal’s Décor; you make the cover pop just the way I intended. Thank you for letting me show you off to the world baby girl.

Also shout out to Maurice Cox for taking that beautiful photo of Krystal for the cover.

Glenford Morgan, thank you so very much for that beautiful Author photo at the back of the book. You always get it right no matter the angle.

To anyone who I may have forgotten, know that you are appreciated as well.

To the love of my life, my husband, Winston Byia Solomon, I love you to the moon and beyond. You are the quiet force behind all I do; you mend my wings when they are broken and make them shiny and new. I could never ask for more support from you because that which you give is more than I need. You give, asking for nothing in return. Thanks for the love and for believing in me in such a profound way.

Most importantly, thanks to the Almighty God for being the driver in this, my life. Without this powerful, all-important force beside, behind and in front of me the journey that brought me to this place in my life could have played out in many other ways, but here I am basking in your generosity. Thank you for the knowledge as I continue to yearn for more wisdom and continued guidance.

PREFACE

I’ve always had a burning desire to write a book. I even started writing other books before I finally sat down long enough to write one in its entirety. My first, Secrets: Mixed up Moods and Deadly Attitudes, part one to this book.

As a young girl I would read books all the time. My first adult book was a Mills and Boone novel. My mother would read them and I would secretly read them later. I don’t think she really wanted me reading anything so grown up but as long as I was reading, I assumed it was good enough for her. I was hooked on reading; therefore, it easily became one of my favorite hobbies. I remember I would have to keep my dictionary close by because of the numerous multisyllabic words I would encounter. That made me adamant not to be a sesquipedalian. I would leave that to the Philosophy Professors. I wanted to write my stories in a way everyone would understand without needing a college degree.

Truth be told, I just love writing, but on the other hand this could all be a product of me not being able to sit more than ten minutes without doing something with my brain and hands.

This story, a continuation from the first book is fiction. Just plain old storytelling with just enough suspense to keep the reader interested. However, the stories within the story are synonymous with everyday life, and, therefore are relatable on many levels.

To get the full effect of this story it would be wise to read part one, Secrets: Mixed up Moods and Deadly Attitudes, ahead of reading this one.

I do hope you find Secrets enjoyable enough to be curious about future works.

The Author

INTRODUCTION

College friends, who had as good a relationship as anyone, found themselves questioning who they really were inside. They were all successful in their own rights and their accolades speak to their achievements. They were all beautiful, the kind of women other women wanted to be but also the kind of women people would not expect to have so many afflictions.

It has been four years since Melanie killed Amanda and went on the lam. It left behind a conundrum of heartache, disbelief and pain; the kind of pain that no one recovers from. Neither they nor their friendship could ever be the same again.

Natasha, Kylie and Keri tried to pick up the pieces and move on but it was far from easy. The friendship between them got stretched to its limits, not only by Melanie’s unforgivable act, but by the many trials and tribulations that followed; each one tearing at the fiber holding what remained of the friendship; leaving each woman in a place they never dreamed.

What effect would these issues have on their individual relationships with their spouses? How have they changed in four years and would anyone be able to really trust again? What role did money, lust and jealousy play?

All these questions will be answered as the Secrets saga continues.

Chapter 1

JERRY

How many times I got to tell you? I did not kill that girl; I had nothing to do with that shit.

We know that, Jerry. We know you did not kill anyone. What we want to know is how you ended up with the gun that killed Amanda Davis.

It has been four years since Melanie killed Amanda and ran off to only God knows where. That bitch took my fucking gun without my fucking knowledge, and now I am in deep behind her shit. But I am lucky that they already know that she is the killer. Otherwise I would get fucked up the ass without the comfort of Vaseline. I was in love with that girl; I was planning on making her my wife until she killed her own damn friend over some mo’fuckers who didn’t give a fuck about her. If she had asked for the gun, I know I would have said no. She knew it too; that is why she stole it. But that’s some foul shit that she put it back in my stash after making it dirty. Now here I am, sitting in an interrogation room with mo’fuckers breathing down my neck. And where the fuck is that lawyer?

It’s so fucking ironic that the lawyer I got is one that Melanie was always bragging about. She was constantly telling me that if I got into some shit, he would be the one to call as he was considered one of the best if not the best defense attorneys in south Florida. I guess now is my chance to find out for real.

Jerry, don’t make it harder on you, brother. The black cop said with his fucking face so close to mine I could taste the burger he had for lunch.

Listen, man, I ha…

Don’t say another word, Jerry! interrupted that lawyer mo’fucker; took him long enough.

Miguel Cruz walked into the interrogation room with the other cop, an old white mo’fucker who looked like he was long past his expiration date. He and the black cop were taking turns trying to fuck with me. Okay, so I know I had a few guns when they raided my place. But they are all clean, and they already know who left dirt on that one piece. I have never killed anyone.

I stood up and greeted Miguel with a handshake. He took a seat and immediately told the two cops that he wanted to speak with me privately before they asked me any more questions. I was already pleased with his mode of operation, and based on what Melanie told me, I knew I had the right guy. There was just something about him that immediately told me he is a winner.

I met him once before, when he ran into Melanie and me at a restaurant all the way in New York. He was there with a sexy little Latino girl, and there was no doubt he was smashing her. He had pulled Melanie aside and had a brief conversation with her. When she got back to where I was, she told me he was begging her not to tell his wife. So while he may be a good lawyer, he is a cheating mo’fucking husband.

The cops left us in the room, and Miquel wasted no time getting to the point. So, you had a total of twenty-two guns, of which eight are illegal. And one of the legal ones is the gun that killed Amanda Davis. How did you get yourself in some mess like that?

I sat up in the chair, but before I could say anything, he said, Don’t answer that.

He asked me a few more questions, and I gave him the simplest answers, the truth. The last question, however, was written on a pad. He pushed the pad in front of me, and on it was the question, Can you help them find Melanie? My answer was, I think so.

He stood up from the chair and told me to sit tight; he would have me out on bail real soon. He walked toward the door, and it opened. He stood by the door talking to the same two damned cops for a while. Then came back in and told me they would be taking me to a cell, but he would be back to get me after court the following morning. Dude sounded really confident, like he ran the damned city.

They took me to a holding cell. There was another dude there, but he was knocked out and sleeping on the narrow-ass bench on the other side of where I was sitting. There was a surprisingly clean toilet in a corner.

I spent the entire night thinking about how I got myself into this colossal mess. When I was seeing Melanie four years ago, I was really into her and even fell in love with her. I had big plans, and she was included in all of them. Before I met her I was smashing out backs all over the city. But something about her made me feel satisfied, like she was enough.

I saw a lot of her, but it was never an everyday thing. She wanted to take it slow because she had been hurt before. Or so she said.

When I found out that she had killed her friend over that preacher dude, it fucked me up in ways I could not fathom. I understood then that it was just more than her getting hurt that made her want to take it slow. She had more than her share of men to navigate.

When she asked me to help her get travel documents, I knew something big was up. But I had not seen the news. I did not realize that I was transporting a wanted killer. By the time I saw it on the news, she was long gone. What was I going to do, run to the police? I was more worried about her than mad; even though my head was fucked up.

It took me awhile to get pass Melanie. She was not your regular chick; she was about making life happen, and her enthusiasm was through the roof. So when I heard she killed her best friend over the preacher dude, the first feeling I got was pure jealousy. For one, I thought I was the only man she was seeing, and was more than happy to make her the only woman in my life. But she had me fooled.

I went back to my old ways with the women. I knew in my heart that I could not settle down with any of the three I was juggling, a Jamaican, a Latina and a Nigerian. I had real feelings for Michelle, the Jamaican girl. Michelle was beautiful and intelligent, like I like them, but she was chronically jealous and there was a whole lot of craziness behind it. That turned out be the reason for a lot of our fights and also happened to be the reason I was locked up.

I was in the shower when I got a text. My phone was in the kitchen, but Michelle somehow heard it from the bedroom, where she was watching television, and decided it was her place to check my phone. It was Marissa, the Latina and she had a sexy photo of herself in bed with the accompanying text, Hey, big Daddy, I am keeping your pussy warm. And if that was not enough, she also sent a text that she enjoyed the trip to Cancun, from where we had returned only days before. It was only for a weekend and I told Michelle I was there on business.

All hell broke loose, and Michelle started breaking shit in my house, just trashing the fucking place. Of the three women I was fucking, Michelle was the only one who knew about my guns. She would not calm down, so I asked her to leave. When she refused and kept breaking things, I literally lifted her ass and put her out the door. I guess that made her even madder because she called the fucking cops on me and told them I had a room full of guns. When they showed up with a search warrant, there was nothing I could do but get out of the way.

Miguel got me out on bond the following day as promised. But before that could happen, a deal was made for me to give them all the information I possessed that could lead them to Melanie. I guess it was kind of a blessing in disguise that they found the gun in my house that Melanie used to kill Amanda. It became a bargaining chip, my deal breaker. Or dare I say my get-out-of-jail card? But that in no way meant Melanie was off the hook: she did some real dirt. I can’t lie, though.

That girl was fire in the bed. No wonder I fell in love with her ass, literally. I’m all fucked up and still get a hard-on for that bitch, and it has been four fucking years.

When it hit me that Melanie was not coming back from wherever the fuck she went, I seriously considered settling down with Michelle. I mean, the girl can cook; she takes care of the house; she knows how to treat her man; and let’s not forget about the sex; she is wild and loves to try new things. All that shit is right up my alley; in actuality. I have a girl who is well rounded in every sense of the word, including her body. You can play poker on her ass. She behaved like she was done some bad shit by some other dude that she had not fully gotten over.

I kept telling myself that I was done with her, but I got the feeling she is not done with me as well. Beneath it all I know she loves me, and I love her too. But she put me in fucking jail with her craziness. I could have gone down for a number of years. I wanted her, but what would she do the next time around? Even though I got my money up to where I probably wouldn’t have to deal coke or weed again, the fact remains that I couldn’t just pull myself out without helping some of my dudes up, so one way or the other, I was still involved. What if one day she calls the cops again when she gets hot under the collar and gets me locked up for good? I am very confused about this girl and whether I should stay with her, but I love her.

It’s always a woman; I stay weak to a woman, maybe it’s because I love my own mother so much and always have an immense amount of respect for all women, but I show special love to the sistas. I love all kinds of women but I find that I stick closer to black women, the strength, the power, which is what turns me on most about them. They are fire but when they love you they go hard for you. When you hear most black women say they ride or die they mean that shit all the way down to the die part. Black women can be fearless as fuck, only thing though, as I happen to find out, they will throw your ass in jail the moment you fuck with their hearts and run behind the police car screaming shit like Keep that mothafucka locked up, but the minute the car is out of sight they start running around trying to get you out. I never could figure them out but maybe they are not to be figured out. My boy Steve Harvey came pretty close though with that book Act like a Lady, Think like a Man. But, if he for one moment thinks he has women figured out he has another thing coming. He probably knows it too.

Ever since I was in high school I found out how much I loved pussy and was fucking some of those old women, my mom’s friends, my best friend’s mama and a couple more old girls that wasn’t connected to anyone who knew me. One lady was damn near sixty, she came by the house to drop off something for my mom and when I told her mom was not home she insisted on waiting. I had known this woman since I was in fucking diapers but that didn’t stop her from coming on to me like I was a grown ass man and when that bitch held on to my dick it fucked up my head, both of them mo’fuckers, and I dicked her ass down right there on my mama’s couch. She started giving me a lot of money and shit and I kept fucking her, but at her house. That is really how I got started in the drug business and eventually into guns and shit. I used most of the money she was giving me to buy weed and I would sell the shit in school but I never got caught. By the time I graduated I had more than one hundred thousand dollars stashed away. About a third of that was extra cash I saved from my allowances from my golden girls. Old pussies have been good for my life.

I never caught feelings for any of those women because I was not really into older women but at the time they were relevant to me and I was relevant to them. For the most part they have a fine mo’fucker like me putting it on them whenever they want it and I know they enjoyed it because even though I was young I never felt like I had anything to prove, I just made mad, sick love to them until they shiver. Some of those women were no slouch though, they gave as well as they got. One bitch even liked it leaning against the wall with her leg up on the dresser and when that happened she roared like a fucking lion. It was a good thing she lived in the suburbs. She was about sixty but you could not tell by the way she fucked, or even by her body because she was always at the gym and the pussy was as tight as her body. She was my favorite and she gave me more money than anyone else did. I concentrated on pleasing the women, not the other way around and those older women loved it that I was an unselfish lover but my tight body oldie was the one who really taught me how to please a woman.

As I got older and they got ‘older’, I knew it had to stop but I kept it up for years until I met Melanie. I was ready to have babies with that bitch. I wanted her in my life so badly that I probably would have ran away with her if she had told me what she was up to. It really broke my heart that she never once got in touch with me. I felt discarded, but even worse it fucked me up that she did not trust me enough to talk to me and tell me the truth. Yet with all that fucked up hurting feeling I still get a hard-on for her. Melanie fucked up my brain with the best sex I ever had in my life and the thing about it was she didn’t even realize it herself how good she was; with all that there was still so much more to her that she did not tap into that was so obvious to me. Like her trying so hard to come off confident but what I saw was someone vulnerable. She was driven but I had the feeling it was not so much about money but about accomplishment.

Chapter 2

MELANIE

I thought I was getting used to the Jamaican heat but this bitch is about to floor my ass. It doesn’t help that I am in the kitchen making another one of those ital stew meals for Hollywood. I can’t believe I came here to Jamaica to be a fucking housewife. Yes, I said housewife. Hollywood and I got married a couple years ago so I am now Mrs. Rodney Fontaine.

I was sporting some serious dread locks as well; I didn’t even look like my former self anymore. When I ran off to Jamaica four years before I was about a size nine, now the woman looking back at me when I look in the mirror lately is no more than a size six. I like it though, I feel sexy and my clothes fit a lot better now.

I became friends with a woman name Precious; her husband is a police officer, how absurd. Here I am running from the law and my best and only friend is married to the law.

No one is the wiser about my true reason for being in Jamaica. It is not unusual for free spirited Americans to move to the island. The locals believe I moved here because I fell in love with the place and decided to make it permanent because I fell in love with Hollywood. I ran with that.

I finished making dinner, cleaned up the kitchen and went directly to the master suite where I immersed myself into the Jacuzzi that Hollywood had installed in the huge master bathroom after we got married. How lucky for me that all the luxuries that I was seeking by being with all those men is right here at my disposal. Who would have thought that a fugitive like me would be living such a privileged life on a beautiful island? Knowing it could have gone way left.

I sat with my eyes closed just enjoying the moment, I must have drifted off because I did not hear Hollywood come into the bathroom, I only felt him coming into the tub and when his leg brushed against my thigh, my pussy did a couple of cartwheels. I reached up and touched his dick gently as he lowered himself into the water. It got harder instantly and I could see the veins popping out. He was ready and at the rate my pussy was jumping there was no doubt I was ready as well. He positioned himself and I wasted no time getting on that dick that was just calling my name.

My pussy was a bit sore from the beating that he gave it before he left the house earlier that morning. He did not move much, he made me do all the work but it was work I did not mind in the least as his fat dick impaled my inside. He pulled my face to his and used his tongue to open my lips and we kissed passionately. I could not help thinking that maybe all of this was just too good to be true. A beautiful home, sweet steady dick from a man whom I was sure adores me. He broke my chain of thought when he eased me off the dick and gently turned me over. I raised my ass in the air a bit and he slowly entered me from behind. He was in no hurry as he slowly grinds inside me and I could feel my juices flowing on to the tip of his dick, I guess some of that was water but it felt good as I wine up my ass and press back into him. His strokes escalated and his body trembled as he unloaded what I summed up to be no less than twins. I did not come and he knew it, so after gathering his breath he sat me on the edge of the tub, opened my pussy gently with his fingers and when his tongue landed on my clit, I immediately squirted on his tongue; he never missed a beat and licked me dry before pulling me back gently into the water. We washed off, grabbed our towels and went directly to the kitchen where we gobbled up the ital stew that was still warm.

The following day Hollywood left the house early for the airport. He has a driver who takes him everywhere. He was going to the United States on business. Before he left he woke me up to say goodbye.

"Robin, Robin!’

I could hear him in my sleep and immediately opened my eyes.

I have to go babes, get up and give me a hug, he said with outstretched arms.

I sat up and he pulled me off the bed and drew me close to him. He did not care if I had morning breath. He gave me a deep lingering kiss before he slowly pulled his lips away from mine pulling on my bottom lip as he did so.

He grabbed his duffle bag and hurried to the door and as he exited he looked back and said, See you in a few days Mrs. Fontaine, I love you

I love you too honey, see you in a few days. I was missing him already.

Recently he asked me to travel with him but I came up with yet another excuse, this time I told him that I could not find my passport, then called myself coming clean by telling him that the real reason I did not want to go back to America was because I was wanted for embezzlement. I told him some grand story about how I used the money I stole while working at a bank to open my salon. I cried as I explained to him my fear of going to jail. At first he was pissed but after I laid some of this sweet pussy on him he was very forgiving. Funny thing is the tears were real and the fear of going to jail was even more profound.

Over the years I tried to forgive myself for taking my best friend’s life but it was as though forgiving myself would be like telling myself that what I did was acceptable. I wondered sometimes about the other girls, Natasha, Keri and Kylie and whether they had forgiven me, but every time I think about it I end up asking myself if I even deserve it. Why should they forgive me? What I did to Amanda was heartless and selfish. I’d hurt so many people who did nothing to me, neither Amanda’s grandmother, her mother nor had her brothers ever hurt a hair on my head. I carried out the murder of my best friend, I never thought for a moment about the consequences. I had already told myself I would never get caught; I had crossed all my T’s and dotted all my I’s. I have had many sleepless nights and had terrible dreams about Amanda coming back with blood running down her face and in every one of those dreams she repeated the same question, one word. Why?

Lately, I have been having those nightmares more often and I consistently get this overwhelming feeling of looming doom. I have been vigilant at checking the internet to see if and what they were saying about the case, but there was nothing there to tell me that they were actively pursuing me. Oh, I saw stories about me on social media. I created a fake page so I could follow what was going on with the police and me. It’s no longer just the police, the FBI got involved the moment they realized that I had taken off.

My life in Jamaica with Hollywood puts me in the midst of the elite more often than I wished for, but no one knew who I was outside of what Hollywood or I divulged.

I made myself into a homebody out of fear of being recognized. I was living in paranoia to the extent that I could not fully enjoy the fabulous lifestyle provided by my husband. I don’t know if I truly have the right to call him husband because he did not marry Melanie…..he married Robin. I don’t even know who this Robin Goodison is. What I told myself is that the only Robin I know is a bird and birds are free, so the name couldn’t be any more perfect.

It’s ironic how lightly I am using the term husband when it was the desire to have Michael Langston for my husband that was the catalyst that drove me to murdering my best friend.

I have been faithful to Hollywood and I am pretty sure he has been faithful to me as well; at least that’s what I choose to believe. There was no sense in trying to find out things that would make me fucking miserable, when I knew there wasn’t anywhere else to go. I do not go through his phone or his pockets and since he finally decided to start using the computer and got himself a laptop I have never gone through that either. I’m only human so I would lie if I said I didn’t wonder about it sometimes but when I think about it the first question I would ask myself is whether Hollywood would have chosen me if the circumstances were different. I inserted myself into his life without giving him much of a say. I was in his home for quite some time before he even touched me on a sexual level. When he finally did I chalked it up to the fact that I was present, not because he desired me so much. I know he loves me now but it was not instantaneous and that does not alter the fact that it was by default.

While Hollywood was gone Precious called a couple times to find out if I wanted to go out to some party but I found yet another excuse to stay out of the public’s eyes. Precious is the wife of Hollywood’s friend and I like her a lot but I simply cannot get caught sleeping. It’s a small fucking world we live in and I want to see the outside of it for a long time, not locked up behind bars. Oh, how I longed to go dancing and having a good time out on the town but I knew what was good for my ass should I fuck up and get recognized. To be perfectly honest that is the only setback to living a fulfilling life on the island. Hollywood suggested many times that I start a business and for every time that he mentioned it I have another reason why I shouldn’t but deep down I really wished I could. I loved running my own business, I loved being an entrepreneur. There is nothing like having your own.

Living in the lap of luxury in Jamaica should be ever exciting. I should be attending social events and hosting some of them as well instead of locking myself inside.

What made me think that I could kill someone and just keep going about business as usual? I really thought that I could get away with killing Amanda but apparently I did not think it through. Now here I am living in my own brand of prison, a beautiful mansion filled with the best furnishings and paintings money can buy, yet I feel imprisoned by my own fear and burgeoning guilt. I realized that I could have had this life with Hollywood without killing Amanda. I had Hollywood’s number for a couple of years before I killed Amanda. I think I called a couple of times after I had first gotten it but I was not thinking of him in that way. I didn’t even remember him being so hot and sexy and so fucking rich or maybe I would have set my sights on him instead of that no-good-hypocritical-scum of the earth-dirty ass preacher Michael Langston. He is the fucking root of all my problems. Well, okay he is not totally responsible for it but he played a big part in it by fucking with me and my fucking friend, getting her pregnant.

Thinking about Amanda having a baby in her stomach when I killed her never really crossed my mind. I totally forgot that I did not just kill Amanda; I killed the baby she was carrying as well. It hadn’t bothered me all these years.

I suddenly felt like I was about to faint. I sat on the sofa in the family room and cried until I fell asleep. I woke up no more than