Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets Read online

  As I got closer I realized the kid they had on his knees with his hands folded behind his head was my so-called boyfriend Dior Jones. I was surprised to see him in my area since he lived near downtown Las Vegas and hung out a few miles away from South Las Vegas Boulevard and Azul Avenue.

  I stood there with tears running marathons down my cheeks. All those thoughts about him cheating went in one ear and out of the other. At that moment I couldn’t imagine not seeing him ever again. Going to jail was worse than dying. I could hear Dior talking shit to cops. He hated the cops and he hated jail. I stood aside, watching as the officer pulled him up from his knees, snatching his arms behind his back and placing the handcuffs on them.

  “Nooooooo!” I cried as the officer placed his hand on the back of his dreads and pushed him into the back of the police car. He managed to look back at me through the window. I knew he was going away for a long time but at that moment it felt like forever. I stood there as the car whisked him away into the busy traffic on South Las Vegas Boulevard.

  Witnessing Dior get arrested hurt like hell. We were supposed to go shopping later for our prom clothes and graduation outfits. I loved being his girlfriend. At seventeen years young, I knew he was the love of my life. We had been together since we were little kids. His mother was best friends with my mother.

  My day can’t get any worse, I thought to myself as I entered our apartment complex. When I walked into the house, like clockwork, my twenty-year-old sister Mercedes was arguing with her boyfriend inside of our living room. I rolled my eyes as I walked past.

  After my sister’s baby father got sent away to Henderson State Prison a few months ago, she started messing with this Kurt guy. Kurt was well known around the South M.L.K Boulevard complex. I knew from day one he would be trouble but Mercedes couldn’t see it. Whenever he would come around, I got bad vibes.

  I never would voice my opinion because I knew how my sister would act. Mercedes was the oldest and she did her best to set an example but she couldn’t. She got pregnant at the tender age of sixteen and dropped out of high school. She never worked because she always messed around with drug dealers.

  Nonetheless, when it came down to it, we didn’t judge her. My mother, she was the same way; she respected who we decided to bring home and how we chose to live our lives. Momma always said the best medicine was to allow us to experience our own growing pains. She could voice her opinion but these were our lives, so, she stayed out our business; especially Mercedes and Kurt’s toxic relationship.

  Kurt was very controlling and possessive. He never put his hands on her, but verbally his words cut like knives. Kurt would disrespect her and talk down to her like she wasn’t a human being. He would pull up on her and embarrass the hell out of her.

  “Yo, bitch! Come here now! You hear me fucking talking to you, Mercedes?” He stood in her face.

  “Please, Kurt, don’t do this in my mother’s house!”

  “I don't give a fuck who house this is. When I say do something, you do it!” he barked.

  “Kurt, I'm getting—”

  “Hey sis, is everything okay?” I interrupted her sentence to ask as I stood at the bottom of the stairs. I could hear them all the way outside so I know the neighbors heard them too.

  “Yeah I’m fine. Who was that, that got arrested out front?” she asked out of curiosity.

  “Dior.”

  “Don't stress, little sis. You know how Henderson cops do. He will be released in a few days.”

  “Did Mommy cook dinner?” I changed the subject. I hated to discuss any of my business around Kurt, especially about Dior.

  “Yeah, it is on the stove.”

  “ Is mommy upstairs ?”

  “ No, she went to pick up Mason from daycare. She'll be back soon.” Mercedes said as she glanced back at Kurt who was now sitting on the black leather sofa, rolling up a blunt.

  “Okay,” I said as I jetted up the steps. I acted as if I didn’t see Kurt sitting there. They argued all the time and as bad as I loved my sister I couldn’t stand him.

  I had enough drama for one day, I thought to myself as I went to my room and locked the door behind me. I lay comfortably in the middle of my bed crying. Dior getting arrested and the possibility of him going to jail for a few years was like a death sentence. When it came down to us, we were like Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Aside from his good looks, Dior was the man at school. Out of all of the high school boys Dior hands down was a fly ass nigga and he stayed low-key. I couldn't believe he got caught selling drugs.

  My mind was going crazy just thinking about him. Closing the blinds, I decided to take a nap so I could be well rested for the questions I was going to face tomorrow at school. Liberty High wasn't that big so I knew rumors got around quickly. A few minutes later I fell fast asleep.

  I was having a crazy dream until I was being woken up to my sister Porsha standing at the door. She came strolling into my room with my nephew Mason on her hip. Damn, I should have locked the door the first time I got up to pee a little while ago, I thought to myself as I sat upright in the bed. I yawned while stretching my body left to right.

  “Tiffany! I need you.” Porsha yelled.

  “Porsha, what time is it?” I asked in between yawns.

  “It’s almost ten o'clock. You've been sleep since you got home from school. I hope you not pregnant.”

  “Wow, why would you say that and what do you want?” I asked. I hated when I slept too long. I figured I must have been exhausted to sleep eight hours straight. Truthfully, I was still hurting and all I wanted to do was sleep the night away.

  “I need you to watch him for me.”

  “No! I am not watching Mason! Don’t bring him in here,” I complained.

  “Mercedes is downstairs arguing with Kurt again, Mommy is trying to sleep, and I have to work in the morning. I am going to bed. Here,” she said as she pushed into my arms.

  “Why can’t you take Mason downstairs with her?”

  “Because Mercedes told me to put Mason in her bed but soon as I laid him down, he woke up. He just wants someone to lay next to him until he falls asleep.”

  “Well, you take him. I’m about to go outside!”

  “No you not, Tiffany. Now take him. I am going to take a shower. Plus, he needs his diaper changed.”

  “He is four years old! He still wearing diapers?”

  “They’re Pull Ups. He wets himself at night! I will pay you twenty bucks when I get paid,” she said as she stripped him out of his clothes to change him. “I know you not complaining. Are those my Coach sneakers sitting on the floor?” she said as she pointed to her brand new sneakers I had stolen out of her closet.

  “Okay.” I took Mason out of her arms, laying him beside me.

  “What they arguing about now?”

  “Girl, I don’t know. You know how jealous Kurt can be sometimes. Mercedes was supposed to go out to some party tonight and he came here popping shit. Than in the midst of all that her baby daddy called the phone and now he’s going off.”

  “As usual. I wish he would just leave.” I rolled my eyes while shaking my head as I watched her disappear into the hallway.

  I put my headphones back into my ears, logging into my Facebook and MySpace accounts to lurk on people pages. Ten minutes later my eyes became restless. After posting a status about what happened to Dior, I got tons of likes and comments. Once I was satisfied with the attention I was receiving from my friends online, I logged out of my apps. I closed my eyelids, joining Mason who was sleeping so peacefully.

  I jumped out of my sleep when I heard my sister and Kurt arguing loudly, yet again.

  “I told you, Mercedes, if I can’t have you then nobody can.”

  “Please Kurt! I have a son!”

  “No, you killed our babies.”

  “No, wait, Kurt—”

  Pow!

  Quickly, I grabbed Mason and ran into the closet. As I was entering the closet I heard two more gunshots, causing me to jump. Like a ton
of bricks, I heard my sister’s body fall to the floor.

  POW…POW…POW!

  I heard three more gunshots coming from down the hall where my mother’s room was. I sat him down on the carpeted floor, tossing clothes on top of him. Once he was fully covered, I swiftly separated both the clothes that hung on the pole to prevent Kurt from seeing me. I stood up against the wall behind the rack of clothes on the opposite side of the walk-in closet.

  My heart was beating erratically each second. My body was shaking badly from my nervousness. I was hoping and praying that Mason didn’t wake up and start crying because Kurt was now standing inside of my room. If he found us he would surely kill both of us.

  I rubbed my fingertips on the cross that was hanging from my neck. I closed my eyes and whispered for God to save me. Momentarily, my prayers were being answered. I let out a loud sigh when I heard his footsteps leave my room. I knew not to dare come out because he had already killed my mother and my two sisters. I couldn’t believe it. I cried silently, as I thought about my family.

  My mother had tried to change to be a good example for us. She stopped hustling when my nephew Mason was born. It was almost like he was the son she never had.

  Momma would sit in church in the same clothes she had been clubbing all night in. She was raised up in the church and even when she got caught up into the streets my grandmother never turned her back on her. Momma would be drunk, high, and wearing the smell of sex as her perfume in church, but the pastor never judged her or singled her out. He never approached her trying to pressure the word of God into her brains. Until that one day.

  Whatever that pastor said to my mother that day made her come home and cut her hair into a cute Halle Berry haircut. She removed her gold tooth, her big gold earrings, and took all of her trashy clothes out of her closet. She put on nice stylish clothes and pearls and studs. She stopped rocking outfits that my sisters and I wore.

  She didn’t change completely, but she had made some necessary adjustments to her life. She stopped hustling and started working at a local grocery store bagging groceries. She got her GED and things were starting to get better. We weren't seeing the amount of money we were before but we were good.

  At twenty-one years old Mercedes worked at The hard rock hotel and Casino a local bar in downtown Las Vegas strip. She was getting her shit together. Porsha was in college studying to become a nurse. She was nineteen years old. One thing I could say about Porsha was that she always was a good girl. Momma said out of her three active teenagers, Porsha was her favorite. Porsha felt it was her duty to make Momma proud, stay away from bad boys, get good grades, and help out with the bills. Unlike myself or Mercedes, she came straight home and stayed away from that street lifestyle.

  I was a seventeen-year-old, Las Vegas girl with a go-getter mindset. I knew at a very young age I deserved every-fucking-thing. Seriously. I stood at five feet even, with shoulder-length black hair, a butter cream complexion, and an attitude like I knew it all. I was one hundred and fifteen pounds, perky breast , and a round ass. My best attribute was my confidence. I was confident with myself which made everything appear ten times better.

  I took a deep breath, thinking about how I ended up in this predicament. I squeezed my eyes tightly as the salty tears burned them. I couldn't think of one negative thing or a reason anyone would want to harm me or my family.

  “Mercedes,” I whispered, half sad, half angry.

  My sister Mercedes was the reason I was inside of the closet fearing for my life. She brought danger into our home. Kurt warned her if she were to ever try to leave him, he would kill her and us too.

  Mercedes was the oldest so my mother put a lot of pressure on her. Mercedes never had a childhood because she had to take care of Porsha and myself. When my mother was heavily into the streets, Mercedes was like a mother to us. She was the spitting image of my mother with a milk chocolate skin tone, Coke bottle shape, and thick, natural shoulder-length hair. She was the loudest to only be four-foot-eleven. She even talked and walked like my mother.

  Mercedes always hung around nothing but bad bitches and trill ass niggas. She never had beef with anyone. Everyone loved my sister. When she had Mason no one judged her. He was the cutest white-looking baby with sandy-colored, curly hair. He had so many play aunts and uncles.

  Orlando, her baby father from Arizona, was nothing but trouble just like all of the guys Mercedes dated, but he treated her good. A year after Mason was born he got locked up, having to serve eight years and leaving my sister to be a single mother. She was really trying to get her shit together, until she met Kurt.

  I could see why my sister liked Kurt so much. He was a well-known drug dealer throughout the Las Vegas streets, so money was never an issue. He resembled Chicago rapper Li’l Dirk. He wore expensive chains and dressed in designer clothes. He met Mercedes through my mother when he was hustling for my mom. They were close at first until he started messing with Mercedes behind my mother’s back than she popped up pregnant a few months later. Kurt never knew because she ended the pregnancy.

  For some reason she felt like Orlando would come home from jail and stop fucking up. They would be a family and Kurt was something she could hold down for the time being. He took good care of Mason. He played the father role well but Kurt was abusive and she was good at hiding it.

  Kurt stood at a solid six-foot-two. He was big weight-wise, dark-skinned, and ugly—almost like a gorilla. I knew my sister had to be desperate to date someone his size. He was overprotective when it came down to Mercedes’ whereabouts. He didn’t like her hanging out too late and he didn’t like any of her girlfriends.

  He was the type of nigga that would pop up on her unexpectedly and unannounced. He would fight any dude that ever tried to holla at Mercedes or, for that matter, even look her way. He didn’t really like Mercedes spending time with us either.

  When she had gotten pregnant a second time but Kurt found out. He tried so hard to get her to move out of my mother’s house but she wasn’t having that. So Mercedes snuck off and got an abortion. She hated killing another innocent baby but she couldn’t be tied down with Kurt for the next eighteen years. Once she did that Kurt did a 360. Mercedes seemed happy fifty percent of the time but she never complained.

  Mercedes loved Las Vegas. If it wasn't for Mason, she would always be out there. The nightlife was perfect for her, and she had the type of personality that was very addictive. She was lots of fun and Kurt hated that. He was very insecure and every time she had to go to work or just wanted to hang out he would trip. I guess she never took his threats seriously or thought they would be the death of her, literally.

  Strangely, the room became very hot and smoky. That's when I heard the smoke alarm going off. Then a few seconds later, Kurt’s 250-pound body fell. He had shot himself. I sat there crying, holding my four-year-old nephew in my arms. I needed to get out of this house and quick. Wrapping Mason up in a blanket, I crawled my way through the smoke-filled hallways. With my nephew in my arms I trembled down a few steps, landing beside Mercedes’ dead body.

  My lungs filled up with smoke, making it hard to breathe. I saw the front door but it seemed like it was too impossible to reach. I felt my body slipping away as I kept trying to fight my way through the hot flames but it was just too hot.

  I was afraid. I had never been this close to fire before. Water and fire were two things I had always been afraid of. That’s when I heard my nephew, who was now crying in my arms. I saw my sister laying dead. I didn't know what to do at the moment. Once I gained my composure I lifted Mason back up. I stood at the bottom of the stairs staring down at Mercedes’ fragile lifeless body resting on the hard wooden floor.

  I stood there for a moment thinking maybe I didn’t deserve to live this life. Everyone was dead and I somehow managed to still be alive. Maybe I didn’t deserve to be protected. I wanted to die along with my mother and two sisters. Hearing Mason’s cries made me come to my senses.

  I looked up and the fron
t door was now covered in hot flames. The living room was on fire. The dining room across from it was on fire. The entire upstairs was now on fire. What was I going to do without my mother? I didn’t have a clue on how to raise a baby by myself.

  I was supposed to be with my boyfriend Dior fucking him until the sun came up or out on Azul avenue with my girls December and Paige drinking and smoking pot. But there I was, collapsed on the kitchen floor with my crying nephew in my arms. I couldn't make it to the back door. The fire got closer and much hotter. I closed my eyes and everything else after that went black.

  {2}

  I woke up to a man carrying me in his arms. I didn’t know how long I was unconscious but with the house still on fire I knew it had not been long. I was in so much pain and my body was burning. I was so thankful for this man who came and saved me.

  When he brought me into the house, he laid me on the couch and sat next to me. I started to panic when I didn’t see Mason. I tried to talk but my throat ached. I tried to stand up but my body was too sore.

  “Baby girl, you are safe. The little boy is upstairs with my mother. She has him. He is safe. You guys have to call the police and let the ambulance take you to the nearest hospital,” he said as he tried to comfort me.

  “No, please. They will take him away. I will be eighteen in six months, on December 25,” I whispered as more tears rolled down my cheeks.

  “I won’t let them take you away but you have to go to a hospital.” The man stated as he started at me.

  “Oh, no…I can’t go. I can't let them take my nephew away! I am only seventeen. Please don’t let your mother bring him outside! Please don’t let child protective services take us!” I begged.

  “Calm down sweetheart, my name is Black. What is your name and the little boy ?”

  “My name is Tiffany and my nephew name is Mason. He's for years old.”

  Black was in his mother’s backyard cooking on the grill when he heard the gunshots. He was headed back inside when he smelled smoke and turned around when he heard a baby crying. He jumped over the fence and save us.