Cupid Shot Me Read online

  CUPID

  SHOT

  ME

  Lacole Rose

  Copyright © 2015 by Lacole Rose

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Dedicated to my Lil Big Sis,

  Thanks to the amazing author, great friend, and sister: Leila Lacey (all of you buy her books.) Thanks for staying on me to write and being a dope role model. Hugs…and such.

  CUPID

  SHOT

  ME

  Lacole Rose

  CHAPTER 1

  The gathering was sparse. A few people mingled by the sparkling fruit punch chilled with various frozen fruits to cool the beverage. A miserable looking older couple lounged on a brown leather sofa by the food table picking at their carrot cakes. The few men in attendance congregated by the stained glass double doors that depicted various scenes from the bible, the sunlight shining through the red tinted mosaics of our savoir with the disciples and mother Mary casting an eerie glow across the men’s terrified faces.

  Sonia Hicks stood over the stove in the basement putting the finishing touches the mac and cheese before placing the dish in the oven. The turnout for Rebecca Boyd’s funeral was almost standing room only considering how as of late the only attendees where usually the pastor giving the last rights. Sometimes even he facilitated the home going via skype or the occasional homeless person off the street would saunter through the doors looking for a free meal and liven up the place with old war stories. Oh, and Sonia.

  Sonia never missed a service: be that Sunday morning worship, Wednesday afternoon bible study, Thursday evening choir practice, Friday night fun night for the teens or Saturday morning community service for the elderly. Sonia was a dedicated member of First and Last Baptist up on a hill of Jesus Christ Saints Revival Church on Third and Elm. She even had her own office in the basement of the church where she was over the food ministry, Pastor Watkins favorite outside of preaching. .

  The old stone building was her sanctuary: walking through the doors, the smell of turpentine from the freshly polished wooden pews, parallel lines on the thin red carpet from the vacuum and the smell of paper from the old bibles that lined the selves of the backs of each pew. Every Sunday without fail, you could hear the sounds of the Mighty Clouds of Joy being piped through the hidden speakers on a continuous loop. Something about familiarity brought peace even in these uncertain times.

  “How long did Rebecca last?”

  With a choked scream and greasy ladle in hand pointing in the direction in which the voice had come, Sonia turned to see her best friend, an amused Venice Coleman, sitting at one of the stools by the old mustard yellow refrigerator.

  “Seriously Vinny, you almost gave me heart attack. I thought you were-”

  “Girl please, if you haven’t been tagged by now you aren’t going to be. Besides what if I was on assignment to hook you up, how is that spoon going to stop my advances?” Venice said laughing. He hopped down from the stool onto five inch black leather stilts she called shoes. Even with the extra help from Louis Sonia was only 5’4, on a good day.

  “Don’t come any further. You know the rules of my kitchen,” Sonia said tossing her a hair net, “and wash your hands too. You can make the pasta salad.”

  Sighing, Venice donned the net carefully, tucking her two hundred dollar honey brown sewn in weave beneath and gingerly removing the glued on lashes dispensing them in the small plastic pouch she carried in her purse.

  “No sense in wasting good lashes if I’m playing souse chef today.” Venice answered at her friends puzzled look. “So tell me how Rebecca bit the dust? Flood, choked on grits, boulder fell on her car?” Venice asked from the sink.

  “You are so insensitive and choked on grits, is death by grits even possible? Anyway, none of the above. Sister Boyd fell down the cement stairs on her front porch. Lasted sixty days exactly. Word is she was trying to leave town. When she was found the car was running and a duffle bag was on the passenger side seat. Shame, Brother Lenard was on his way to propose too.”

  Venice let out a long whistle and shook her head, “Well I believe death was better than being shackled to Lenard Hamm for eternity. Yikes, I think the broad slipped on purpose.”

  “Venice! How you lost your mind, speaking of the dead that way?”

  “Have you lost your sight? You’ve seen Lenard, he looks like a black version of that thing from the Lord of the Rings movie. That’s one ring he can keep.”

  Laughing in spite of the serious conversation Sonia shook her head, tossing an oven mitt at her friends head. Removing the ‘I cook, what’s your super power’ apron, Sonia lifted the table partition that separated the kitchen from the eating area and headed to her office in the back.

  “I have to make a call, Matthew wasn’t feeling too good this morning. I want to see how he’s fairing and no…its’ just that stomach virus that’s been circulating the past few weeks. Relax!” Sonia said when a shocked expression appeared on her friends face. Venice’s hazel eyes held a hint of dread. Her salon arched brows nearly reached her hairline they were raised so high from hearing the news of Sonia’s sick brother Matthew.

  “Ok…ok. Tell him I said hello.” Venice whispered turning almost robotically back to sick where she was rinsing vegetables for the pasta salad.

  Sonia turned her back quickly on her friend, hoping the anxious tremor she felt in her heart didn’t reach her eyes. “Lord forgive me for lying in your house and protect my brother,” she silently prayed as she opened the door to her small cubby sized office adjacent to the ladies restroom.

  Before the door could click behind her she removed the constricting support hose and body shaper beneath her black jersey dress and shimmied into some black slacks, silk burnt orange blouse and her fuzzy slippers, giving her aching feet a rest from those three inch heels Venice insisted she wear.

  Unlike Venice, Sonia preferred gym shoes, jeans and graphic tees to heels dresses and mac makeup. At 5’7” and size sixteen weighing almost two hundred and ten pounds, Sonia chose comfort over fashion and lip gloss over fake lashes. Besides her smooth chocolate skin didn’t have a blemish and her natural close cropped hair had a natural curl and was low maintenance. Her only vice was earrings, she never left home without all three of the tiny pierced holes adorned with jewelry.

  Sonia sat heavily at the cushioned black faux leather chair at her desk and took a few deep breaths. Her hand shook as she reached for the cordless phone to call her brother. Sending up one more prayer of protection she dialed his number and held her breath. After five rings with no response and several attempts later she cried in her hands and hoped for the best all at the same time, even when her heart knew the truth. Her brother was dead.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Cain Fletcher paced outside of the grocery store debating on whether to approach Sonia today or never. He’d been alternating between sitting, rocking, doing some version of a rain dance, playing shadow basketball for the past twenty minutes, anything to keep him from having to approach Sonia. The whole pep talk he’d given himself on the fifteen minute ride from his house in Hyde Park, Ohio a suburb of Cincinnati was just a
memory. Fear had taken over and the logic of the accidental meeting he had spent three hours conjuring up the night before seemed ludicrous.

  If you don’t hurry she’ll be done shopping and you’ll miss the opportunity. Cain thought to himself. And just as he had predicted, Sonia was exiting the store with a cart stacked with reusable bags.

  Damn, he swore to himself. How stalker-ish would it be for a strange man to walk up to a woman in a parking lot alone at night and say “Hey, you’re my soul mate you wanna get married over lunch? I only have twenty four days left.”

  “Time to put on the big boy draws. Man up!” Cain said aloud when he noticed Sonia struggling to hand the cart and unlock the trunk of her car.

  “Excuse me, you need a hand?” Cain asked. A friendly smile or what he hoped was a friendly smile on his café au lait face.

  “No, now back up before I mace you!” Sonia screamed, getting the attention of bystanders heading into the store.

  “Hey ma’am. You ok?” one of the teenage boys in a group of five asked from the window of a suv. The young man on the passenger side looked ready to pounce at any moment.

  Sonia ran a cursory glance of the man standing four feet away from her, his shoulder length dread locks hung loose at his shoulders, a tiny gap separated his two front teeth, a well groomed goatee surrounded thick lips and his black eyes held no threat. He stood causally with his hands in the pockets of his dark denim jeans which caused his muscled shoulders to bow inward in his black tee shirt.

  “No I’m fine gentleman. Thank you so much for asking.” She replied to the diver. With another bitter stare cast in Cain’s direction and nod at Sonia the young man drove off.

  Blowing a sigh of relief, more for her benefit than his, Cain didn’t at one moment feel threatened by the boys. He was more afraid of Sonia at this point. She could end his life quicker than a group of wanna be thugs.

  “Thanks, that whole scenario could have went south rather quickly. So again ma’am, do you need any help?” he asked again taking a step back to give her space and put her mind at ease. Sonia still had her finger of the trigger of the mace though it rested at her hip, the other hand held the cart.

  “No…no thanks.” She stammered. The stranger nodded and walked away. Leaving behind an odd presence.

  “Wait,” Sonia said, then frowned wondering how her voice box projected words without her permission. “I could use an extra hand, the wind is making this simple task rather cumbersome today. Is that offer still on the table?” She chuckled. There it goes it she thought. Speaking when her brain is telling her to shut up and drive off, with or without the groceries for the homeless shelter. ‘You know better’ she berated herself, but the goofy smile never left her face.

  Smiling with relief Cain replied “Sure. That was open invitation. Whenever you need me I’ll be here.”

  Sonia frowned slightly but didn’t respond and just handed the man her keys and moved aside. Realizing a second later how dangerous this encounter was, she didn’t even know his name.

  “Cain. Cain Fletcher.” He answered her silent musings with an out stretched hand. It was then that Sonia noticed the tattoo on the back his hand. Love over everything. The over was displayed by the line and the word everything below. The tattoo was surrounded by angel wings flanked either side.

  Sonia’s pulse leaped twenty beats and she snatched the remaining bags from the cart and dashed for the driver’s side door. Sonia peeled away from the packed parking lot, her tires leaving skid marks in their wake. Her truck slamming shut with the sheer speed of her escape as Cain stood perplexed with two bags in his hands. His foot anchored on the bottom rung of the shopping cart to halt its’ steam roll down the parking lot into someone’s car and once again all eyes on him.

  On the walk to his pick-up truck he realized his fatal mistake. Never pronounce love to a stranger, be that verbally, telepathically or in written word. Cain stared at the tattoo on the back of his right hand and sighed as the clock on the dashboard read seven o’ clock pm, bringing with it another day down and another day closer to meeting his maker. The timer on his iPhone wailed and vibrated on the passenger seat to drum home another passing day.

  “Twenty-three more days and twenty two more nights tell death comes a knocking.” Cain sang in a mock country twang as he reached for his phone to shut off the timer. As he leaned over the seat he spied a piece of paper stashed in the one of the grocery bags Sonia had left behind.

  Yelping and a fist pump Tiger Woods would appreciate, Cain drove from the parking lot with lifted spirits and thankful for his good fortune. He’d get to see Sonia again and thanks to her faux paus, sooner than later.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Breathe woman, calm down. Tell what me what happened?” Venice asked from her kitchen with a hint of anger in her voice. Not because Sonia had popped up unannounced, the two did that to each on a regular basis, but because Sonia knew it was romance and candlelight night at the Coleman residence and Venice and the love her life Jason were about to attempt position number seventeen in the position a day book.

  Finally calming her nerves enough to actually take in her surroundings she noticed the ensemble Venice donned or lack thereof.

  “Oops!” Sonia said meekly, covering her hand over her mouth.

  “Baby, what’s the hold up? Titan can only take so much hand to hand combat.” Jason yelled from their first floor bedroom suite.

  “Eww,” Sonia said grabbing her jacket and shaking her head at Venice like a church mother scolding a wayward child during communion. “You go handle Titan, I’ll call you later.”

  She reached to give Venice a hug but retreated not wanting to get of the body oil that adorned her body through the see through black lace teddy to get on her clothes.

  “Hefta, next time just act like you ain’t home, I’m going to need Jesus, Budda and a lobotomy to rid myself of this image” Sonia reprimanded.

  “Well, this should just solidify our friendship. Take it to another level if you will.” Venice said laughing embracing Sonia in a tight sisterly hug.

  “I hate you,” Sonia said blandly but hugged her back. “Now I have to walk around all greasy and smelling like peaches and cream body oil. If this stains my shirt we are no longer on speaking terms. And for all that is holy don’t tell anyone I hugged your half naked behind.”

  “Too late.” Venice said smugly as she showed Sonia her latest Tweet.

  “You know you’re loved when your BFF doesn’t mind embracing your oily nude body. #SoniaAndVeniceBesties”

  “Have I mentioned I hate you?” Sonia asked dryly but not upset being used to her antics. “You didn’t have to add the picture of us together in Miami Beach though.” She said laughing.

  “Baby.” Jason whined from the back room like a two year old who wanted candy but the mother said no.

  “Sorry Jason, I’m leaving. Enjoy your evening of debauchery.” She said to Venice who gave a demure curtsey as Sonia left the kitchen any chef would kill for and headed for the door.

  “That’s ok Sonia, I would come out to say hello but my baby left me chained to the bed.” Jason voiced from the candle lit bedroom in the back off to the right of dining room.

  Sonia screamed playfully heading for the door at a quicker pace. “You two need a filter I swear!” she yelled at the door before slamming it behind her.

  *****

  Sonia walked into her apartment later that evening still shaking her head at her friend’s shenanigans, yet silently praying she found a soul mate of her own before her time was cut short and she was tagged. Which then brought her thoughts back to the man at the grocery store. Cain! Sonia never understood why the name Cain was so popular anyway. He was a murderer in The Bible, the first person to ever commit the crime in the entire exist of mankind.

  That’s like naming your child Hitler or Gangues, hardly terms of endearment. He was easy on the eyes however Sonia mused as she deposited the six reusable Trader Joe bags on the counter and floor of her sm
all corner kitchen.

  Removing her wedge sneakers, leaving them on the thick tan carpet of her living area, she padded in her socked feet the master bedroom to put her dying, two percent battery life cell phone on the charger and texted Venice she had made it home, a ritual they had started a little over nine years ago when they were juniors in college and lived in separate dorms across campus from one another.

  Sonia was surprised when her smartphone buzzed on her side table by her bed, expecting Venice to be otherwise engaged to respond to a text.

  “Thanks love, giving Titan a rest. I think I wore the lil fella out. Looks like an overcooked string bean lol.” Venice text read with a smirking emoji used as the period.

  Instead of replying Sonia laughed and put a mental note to remind Venice about her oversharing nature and walked back to kitchen to store the groceries until Saturday for the Church’s annual neighborhood cookout.

  Of course Sonia had been put in charge over the food but she didn’t mind, cooking was a passion of hers and she loved sharing her gift of tickling the taste buds with as many people as she could.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘Where is it? I know I bought extra flour and bar-b-que sauce for the ribs…’ Sonia thought as she rummaged through the bags littering the kitchen floor. Then it donned on her she had left the grocery store in such a mad rush she’d forgotten a couple of her bags. She sighed heavily pulling out a pen and pad from the drawer, surveying what she’d have to replace before the cookout tomorrow.

  A soft knock on the door halted her musings. Spying the apple shaped clock over her stainless steel fridge, the little hand being between the eleven and twelve made her pulse race.

  “Am I out of time already? I can’t be! I can’t be!” Sonia said aloud nearly hyperventilating, making deep indentions in the thick carpet with her pacing.