Crime of Passion (Marcus Douglas 1)
l you're thinking about is getting through with what you gotta do and get paid so you can get high.”
“So how'd he get the car?”
“One of his clients gave him that car. But when her husband finally missed it, she told him it was stolen.”
“How'd he—find out?” Garrett asked staring out the sliding door at Misty and Chocolate again.
“She called Rasheed and told him. I could ask them to stop if they're distracting you.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. How do you know all this?”
“Rasheed told me.”
“Like you and him were pretty close?”
“We talked.”
“Just talked?”
“We started getting high together,” Porsche said, repositioning herself on the couch. “Rasheed came by here one night looking for Desireé. I was getting high; I asked if he wanted a hit. It was on from there.”
“Did Desireé know that he got high?”
“No.”
“What else did y'all talk about?”
“Just bullshit at first. We didn't do a lot of talking, like I said, I was smoking pretty heavy those days. But this one particular night, I was in the pool waiting on my guy to bring my package and Rasheed came by. He had just left Desireé's house. He told me how much he hated Roland watching. He said it was funny at first, watching Roland play with that limp dick. But now, Roland was getting demanding about it. Telling him how he wanted him to fuck her. Like he was directing a porno flick or something,” Porsche laughed.
“He ever do you like that?”
“No. He would just sit there quietly and he'd never stay long. Like I said he preferred watching men with her.”
“The reason I ask is he may have been filming the whole thing, making his own movies.”
“If he was, I didn't know about it and Desireé never mentioned anything like that.”
“Maybe she didn't know.” Garrett glanced out the door and then back at Porsche. “So now you and Rasheed are getting high together.”
“We were having sex, too. That night he came by and I was in the pool, he got in with me. We were talking, and one thing led to another.”
“I guess Desireé didn't know about that either.”
“Not unless he told her.”
“Excuse me,” Simone said as she came into the living room. “Porsche, do you know if we have any clean towels?”
“Are there any clean towels in the linen closet?” Porsche asked politely.
“No, I already looked,” Simone replied walking closer to the couch.
“Then what does that tell you?”
“That there are no clean towels,” Simone answered quietly as her chin touched her chest.
“Don't ask questions you already know the answer to. And always think before you open your mouth. Knowing what to say and what not to say, will make your company more desirable and therefore requested on a regular basis,” Porsche instructed. Simone left the room and Porsche turned her attention to Garrett. “I'm sorry for the interruption.”
“Okay, so you and him are getting high and having sex. Y'all get together often?”