Lela's phone rang again.
She hurriedly switched it to vibrate so she could get back to her conversation with the man she considered her boyfriend. She didn't even bother to check to see who was calling. No more interruptions. This was not turning into one of their typical conversations.
"So what are you trying to say?" she asked. There was a near quiver in her tone. She could feel her eyes welling up despite her best efforts to prevent it.
Devon partially curled his lip. He was trying to find the best way possible to break things off. He knew it would be difficult despite the fact he had practiced it in his head the previous evening. He even stood in front of the bedroom mirror making sure he got everything just right. Down from his hand movements to his facial expressions. Probably should have worked on the lip curl though. That was a dead giveaway that he was getting frustrated.
"Look..." he reached down and grabbed her hand. It just seemed an appropriate measure of reassurance to cushion the blow. Afterall, they were in his apartment. He wasn't trying to have her snap and then start breaking some of his valuables. "I don't know how much longer my company's going to have me here anyway. I told you that early on. That's why I didn't want to getoo attached."
Ortega Textiles was not relocating Devon anywhere. They brought him to Mexico from the states with the full intention of him moving up in the ranks of the company. It was their hope that his American influence and eagerness from having freshly graduated would be a step to revitalize the company. Devon was very much aware of that as well. He actually liked living in Mexico. However, he wasn't about to tell Lela that. It just seemed like a convenient out.
She brushed her silky black mane behind her ears once more. Just in time to catch her phone vibrating. She stole a glance at the caller id this time. UNKNOWN. Just what she figured. It could wait. She was still trying to understand what had changed between her and Devon. Calling him her boyfriend may not have been quite an accurate description, but they were definitely exclusive. At least she was. And that was in spite of the fact that she was constantly getting bombarded with offers due to her job as an exotic dancer.
Devon was a different than any other guy that had approached her. First and foremost was he was making an honest living. He did not come at her with an average pick up line making it seem like he was just interested in getting under her skirt. He actually treated her like a lady. He was was one of the few guys she gave her real name to. One of the few guys she introduced to her three-year-old son. All because she was confident that they could have a future together. Something she gathered in just their three short months of dating.
"I can't do this," Lela uttered, pulling her hand away, "I need to leave....I..." she put the strap of her Chanel purse over her shoulder without ever making eye contact with Devon "...I need to leave."
He remained silent. Maybe this was the best resolution. She was leaving on her own accord without him having to go into any more details. They could always hash out the rest over the phone if necessary. Or possibly even e-mail. Whatever the case, he graciously watched her curvaceous frame leave while he continued to say nothing. She didn't slam the door so that was a good sign. Still, he couldn't help but think that maybe he owed her more.
Devon released a long sigh. The lip curled again. He really should have let her know that it really had nothing to do with her occupation contrary to what she may have thought. Also in spit of what his boys back home tried to convince him. Devon had always had a penchant for exotic dancers so of course it wasn't going to change just because he was in Monterey. In fact, it increased exponentially when he got to Mexico where the quality was much better than that of St. Louis.
Just as he heard the purring of her engine start up, Devon realized it wouldn't kill him to give her more clarification. He darted out the door with enough time to see the Toyota turn the corner. He reached for his phone to call her when he was confronted by two scuffy teenagers. By the looks of their clothes and their rugged appearance, they were definitely in the wrong neighborhood.
Devon prepared to cordially greet them, but he never had a the chance to speak. The stockier of the two caught Devon with a right cross to the face that knocked him to his knees. He was on the sidewalk on all fours tasting his own blood, wondering what had just happened. That's when the other drew his Glock and fired three point blank shots to Devon's skull.
His lifeless body fell quickly to become one with the pavement.
Lela was able to hold back the tears long enough until she cleared the corner from Devon's house. That way if he did happen to come outside to see her leaving, he still would not have seen anything. Her phone rang with the UNKNOWN caller-id popping up once more. There was nothing for it to interrupt this time so she answered.
"Collect call from La Mesa Prison," said the voice on the other end. "Will you accept the charges?"
"Yes," Lela cautiously replied.
"Hola, Mami," came the scratchy familiar voice. Lela was frozen, unable to speak. The caller easily sensed it. He expected it. "Surprised to hear from me?...I told you no one will have you but me. Don't ever doubt me."