Demi Karrine Outlaw

She was flawless, perfection, she was the epitome of class and grace. She stood all of five foot-three inches tall with her heels giving her an extra four and a half inches to about five-nine. Her …

Source: Demi Karrine Outlaw

Sleeping with the Enemy (copyright 2016)

 

A personal note from the author:

 I’ll admit, I have started and stopped putting pen to paper many times when it comes to this book out of fear. Fear that once I have opened Pandora’s Box there will be no turning back. All of [my] our deepest, darkest most intimate secrets will be on display for all to see. But you see, the problem with keeping secrets is eventually they begin to eat away at you leaving behind nothing but a pile of secrets and lies. So that when you are dead and gone your tombstone will read “Here lies Harlem, a pile of bones, lies and secrets she kept.” So before that happens, this is my story, our story. A collection and series of events that would intertwine the lives of several people who otherwise never would have crossed paths. These are our truths.

*This is just the preempt to “Sleeping with the Enemy” Simply a glimpse into what is to come. Any resemblance to those persons living or deceased are strictly coincidental*

Enjoy!

HB

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Broken Silence

A large part of me wanted to call her, talk to her, hear her side of the story. Find out what kinds of bullshit he’d been feeding her, then there was a small part that couldn’t bring myself to admit that what was happening was real. The desperation and hurt in her voice was familiar and I felt for her. I replayed her messages over and over until I couldn’t stomach anymore of the self-inflicted torture.

I guess he thought I’d never find out, about all the women, the lies, the infidelity, the betrayal. But like most men he got comfortable, got sloppy and undoubtedly got his ass busted.

From the beginning the relationship was a game of cat and mouse, I played hard to get mainly because he just wasn’t my type, but after months of a never-ending chase I gave in and decided there was something I liked about him. It wasn’t that he was overally fine or that he was swagged out like Victor Newman from Young and the Restless (as a matter of fact he was none of those things) that finally made me give in, it was the fact that he never asked anything of me and accepted me flaws and all. In knowing that, I relaxed my standards and allowed myself to feel. I just knew that this would be the one. After a short time I settled into my relationship and made one big mistake, I became complacent, I got too relaxed and let my guards down. One of the biggest mistakes a woman can make in any relationship is believing that she is exempt from being betrayed by her man.
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Black Mail~Part Two

“Are you out of your mind?! You and that nigga both crazy! Ya’ll belong together!” Chelsey was livid on the other end of the phone as I explained my plan to her. “You can’t just go around ruining people’s lives like that. Let that shit go, Malcolm is all talk and no action. Fuck him!” While my best friend knew just about everything there was to know about me there were still some things that I’d kept between me and GOD, or so I’d assumed. I still hadn’t figured out what it was Malcolm had heard and to be completely honest I was scared shitless. My tainted past was nothing short of a low-budget hood film complete with sex, money, and rappers (lots of them). “Earth to Chloe! Hello!” Chelsey’s nagging voice snapped me out of my daydream. “Girl please, I’m not about to sit back and allow this clown to run me into the ground doing Lord knows what with and for him. I am not his hoe. He had me nervous for a minute but he seems to have forgotten who I used to be!” I was feeling myself at that point and ready for war. Malcolm wasn’t the only person who had life altering information, only difference between his and mine was that the shit I knew would put his ass under the jail. His exposure would only make my stock go through the rough, my skills are nothing short of amazing. My only preservation was I didn’t want to push him to make my private life public to my employer. I lived life with no regrets but that’s a line I couldn’t let get crossed, I had to protect my livelihood.

I didn’t give a rats ass if people in this who sleeping with who of a town saw his personal montage of photos of me or videos of me and HIM, but my job was something different. I had worked hard and was not going to let this asshole ruin it. His little plan involved hurting me emotionally, mine did the same only it would damage much more than his feelings and ego. I had taken the gloves off and knew that if this plan fell through I’d be finished, but a girl like me loves a good game of Russian Roulette.

“So what you gonna do Clo? You gonna let him use you? Treat you like a low life whore till he gets tired or let this shit go!?” Damn Chelsey and her 21 questions! “Neither! I’ma make his ass miserable just for thinking he was going to blackmail me. Let the games begin.” Just as I said that someone knocked on my door. “Gotta go Chels.” I said without waiting for a response before hanging up.

“So you wanna talk? Let’s talk.”

~To Be Continued~

*Writer’s note: I know my readers are like hurry up, but I have to build suspense. Part 3 which will be the final part will be posted on Monday. Until then…….Blessings B

Black Mail~Part One

I stood in the middle of my kitchen floor humiliated and degraded. My face was red and soaked with tears and I was dripping wet with sweat yet my skin was cold and I had the shakes. How did it come to this? Was my past finally catching up with me? Was I going to have to pay for all those years of wrong doing I thought I had made right? It was 2am and I was too exhausted and ill to try to find the answers to any of those questions. I sat down on my couch and read the text messages over and over, “This is how this is going to work. For all those years of keeping me a prisoner of guilt I’m going to make you my BITCH. You gonna be compliant with all that ask until I am satisfied you have suffered enough. Should you give me any resistance I will expose you and all your dirty little secrets.”  I had to laugh a little to myself, “This nigga couldn’t possibly be serious! This shit only happens when Victor Newman is involved, NOT in real life! WHO blackmails someone?” Finally I laid down hoping sleep was in my future and that I would soon wake up from this nightmare. As soon as I closed my eyes the events of a few hours prior replayed over and over like a bad porno. I could feel the chunks rise up in my throat and before I knew it I had thrown up everything but my memories. I looked in the mirror and quickly become disgusted with the reflection that stared back at me, probably because I had seen her before. She was someone I thought I buried long ago, a skeleton that had been buried deep in my closet.

In reality she was very much still a part of me, the only difference was that I worked so hard to become nothing like her or even someone who remotely resembled her. Who was “she” you ask? Let’s just say she is a young woman with a charted past and a lot of secrets, secrets that could not only ruin her life but the lives of many others should they come out. I laughed to myself as images of certain people in uncompromising positions flooded my mind. I wasn’t proud of the shit I’d done by any means, but the truth of it all was that I HAD in fact done them and now this nigga was going to “expose” me or at least that’s what he thought. While I had put my past far behind me, it wasn’t beneath me to take a step back and do what I had to do to protect myself and the reputation I was working so hard to build. “Expose me? Yeah ok we gone see who gets exposed when I get done. Fuck me and I will surely fuck you back.” The laugh I released after I said that was so wicked and laced with anger that it scared me.

 

~To Be Continued~