Bible Thumpers

Chapter One

Michelle Goodlove had way too much to do. She needed to be moving around, and getting things done. And by moving around, she didn’t mean pacing back and forth in this tiny space. It seemed like that’s all she’d been doing for the longest. Even now, as she strode the length of the small room, her mind was racing faster than a hooker trying to escape church. While the to-do list seemed never-ending, she knew what she couldn’t do.

Michelle couldn’t keep wasting good energy on her good for nothing, soon-to-be ex husband, Damien. It was truly pointless. Besides, would sharing the money be that bad? Who cares if he uses his part of her multi-million dollar settlement to go whoring some more? That was no longer her concern. Michelle was finally able to admit to herself, the pure hatred she held for Damien was not healthy. It wasn’t doing anything but weighing her down.

Damn! She sighed glancing around. What was taking so long?

Sure, she’d dreamed of stabbing Damien in the eye with an extra long ice pick, then cutting off his dick, pureeing it in an industrial blender then serving it back to his ass, through a funnel, but that was the old Michelle. Thoughts like that hadn’t solved a thing. This she knew for sure.

But damn, it felt good to think about the many many ways she could exact revenge against Damien’s whorish behind. Michelle shook those enticing thoughts from her mind. This was a new day, she was a new woman, and she was ready to move on with her life.

She was sick and tired of waiting. She didn’t understand why she was still stuck in this place. If she wasn’t the good Christian woman she’d promised to be from this day forward, she’d yell until someone came to see about her.

Michelle closed her hazel eyes, clasped her hands together and tilted her head upward toward the ceiling.

God please forgive me for those impure thoughts I had about Damien. Lord, you know my heart, well, not the heart I have now, but the one I’m trying to achieve. And although I’d love to see those things happen to him good Lord, I know that is not your will. I’m still a work-in-progress, Please God, please help remove these pleasing, yet wrong, thoughts from my mind. Allow me to be more like your son Jesus Christ that I too might forgive those who’ve wronged me, in Jesus name, amen.

Ahh-hem! Are you finished?

The masculine voice interrupted her impromptu prayer. At the sound of Sergeant Levy’s voice, Michelle snapped her eyes open and her face twisted into a menacing frown.

Did it look like I was finished? she hissed at the correctional officer.

Well, I can stand here ‘til you’re done, but I’d think yo’ bougie ass would be ready to get up outta’ here, makes me no difference whether you go or stay! The officer said.

Michelle shot her a dirty look. Sergeant Levy was a short petite woman who mimicked a man. She wore her hair in a fade haircut, had broad shoulders, and had a pimp walk that made you think twice about her gender from behind.

In the 18 months she’d been behind bars, Michelle loathed all of the correctional officers. She wasn’t sure who she hated more, the ex husband she’d tried to kill, Raymond the inmate she thought she’d convinced to kill for her, or the dyke-like correctional officers who treated her like she was a common criminal.

If you don’t let me out of this damn cage, Michelle said through gritted teeth.

You gon’ do what? Sergeant Levy asked. She had the nerve to be hunching her shoulders and reaching for her baton like she was gonna try and do something with it. Whatchu gon’ do Goodlove? Sergeant Levy prodded.

They loved messing with her. If they weren’t calling her the church lady, they were intentionally calling her by her married last name, which they knew really got under her skin.

Michelle pulled in a deep rugged breath, then released it. She did a slow mental countdown, and forced herself to control her brewing anger.

When she realized the deal meant she’d actually get out of jail, she had been all too willing to go along with whatever they wanted. At first she thought it was a hoax, but it was far from that.

She was being released from jail today, and nothing would change that, not even this little nasty she-man who literally held the key to her freedom.

Chapter Two

You like it?

Yes Daddddy, right there! Charlotte grunted. She spread her legs wider, then wider, and pulled him in deeper.

Yes Dammit, put your back in it! Oh God! It’s so good, so good. You got some good stuff, she swore.

No! This Goodlove baby, Goodlove!

Then gon’ put your name in it, that’s what it’s made for, you betta’ work it boy! Work that damn Goodlove! Charlotte screamed as her body exploded in sheer ecstasy.

When Damien finally tumbled off of her, they both had to struggle to catch their breath.

Sshit girl, you sure know how to make a man feel good, he huffed.

That’s you boo, she said.

Damien eased up and cradled his head on one arm. That last 45, baby, he kissed her silken skin. That was all you baby, all you! He chided.

Charlotte looked up at the ceiling as she allowed the smile to linger on her lips.

Damien lay down on his back and started staring off to the ceiling as well. He had quite a bit to think about, but this was not the time. He told himself he’d try to do right by Charlotte this time if it killed him, and although trying to do so nearly had, lately, he’d been pushing forward with the promise he’d made himself.

You still hungry Daddy? Charlotte asked.

I told you I ate at the church, he said.

She shoved him playfully. Ain’t no body talking about no food up in here, she giggled.

Damien’s eyebrow elevated a bit. Was she serious?

When Charlotte’s chubby hand clamped on to him, Damien felt awkward about his limpness.

Uh, he just put in some hulleva work, he muttered.

That ain’t never stopped us before, Charlotte sang. She began to massage his muscle, like she was kneading dough.

As she worked him over with her magnificent hand job, Damien couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. It seemed lately, Charlotte’s sexual appetite had grown with a vengeance.

I wanna make sure you ain’t wanting for nothing, she said. Her fingers clamped and unclamped around his flesh as she spoke.

You more than enough woman for me, said Damien.

Yeah, well I wanna work you overtime, that way, if you slip up, you ain’t got no energy to give nobody any of my Goodlove! she said.

Damien hadn’t realized he could slip up. What was she saying?

You think I don’t see how them skinny lil’ skanks be all lusting over you in service? she asked.

He felt lucky when she continued talking instead of waiting for him to answer. He had noticed them too. Hell, he’d prayed and prayed and so far, so good.

I hate having to fight for my man, Charlotte said.

The problem was, the more she talked, the tighter she yanked and jerked on him. Damien couldn’t even focus on getting hard if he wanted to. He was silently praying she wouldn’t ruin things for them both by dislocating his muscle.

Them lil skanks think I don’t know what they thinking when they see us together? Charlotte asked. "Hmmm, I can read their minds. What the hell is he doing with her of all people?"

Ah, babe, Damien tried to say.

But Charlotte was in the zone. She had clamped on for the ride and was taking him with her whether he wanted to go or not.

They waiting for the minute I turn my back, so they could throw they damn panties all up in your face! Umph, that’s if the hefas even wearing any!

Damn Charlotte, it don’t come off! he finally screamed.

Oh, baby, I’m sorry, she reached over and kissed his cheek.

Shit, that ain’t what you been tugging on, Damien said.

Charlotte smiled the eased down to kiss him where she hurt him.

Now that was more like it, he thought. But as Charlotte was making up for the pain she caused, Damien’s mind couldn’t help but go over the changes that had occurred with her.

In the beginning he loved her confidence. He loved the fact that she had this I don’t give a damn attitude. But here lately, traces of the old Charlotte seemed hard to find. Now all she ever talked about was the other women, who wanted her man, and what she needed to do to fight off the competition.

Damien knew himself, and he knew the minute he smelled fear in a woman, that’s the minute he started looking elsewhere for a new challenge.

But he loved Charlotte. That’s what he reminded himself as she worked. Or at least he used to love the old confident Charlotte. This new woman who was insecure, worried about the new skinny women at church, and everything else, was foreign to him. Then, he didn’t even want to think about the baby scare. He thought for sure that would be the end of them, but as it turned out, neither she nor his ex Jazzlyn were pregnant after all.

Damien didn’t want or need anymore kids. He kept saying he was gonna go get snipped, but he chickened out each time he drummed up enough courage.

Charolotte’s words stayed on his brain like they had been tattooed there.

…that way, if you slip up, you ain’t got no energy to give nobody any of my Goodlove.

And to imagine, all this time he was struggling to be good, while all along he had a pass to slip up, and he didn’t even know it.

Good Lord, girl! he yelled.

Look at the mess you don’ made, Charlotte said, smiling wickedly.

Hmm, you ain’t seen nothing yet, Damien said as he tried to steady his breathing.

Thoughts of that slip up danced all around in his head.

Chapter Three

Barry Goodlove hated being married with a passion. As a matter of fact, the newlywed couldn’t remember a single appealing thing that made him want to even marry this woman who had completely changed damn near overnight.

Boy did she front! In the beginning she was this meek and quiet woman who seemed to live a privileged life, as the daughter of one of Houston’s most renowned men of God. But after being married for almost a year, Barry was convinced she was the devil reincarnated.

What was it about her that he thought he couldn’t live without? From the outside everyone thought theirs was the perfect marriage. Some people had gone as far as to ask when they were starting a family.

Did you hear me?

It wasn’t until Amy used the broom she was sweeping with to jab him hard in the ribs, that he realized she had been talking to him. But he should’ve known, the way her face resembled a menacing monster more than the lovely face she was known for having.

Ooouch! Barry jumped from the sharp pain that bolted through his body. Wha’s wrong with you? He grabbed his right side and doubled over in pain.

I told your ass to go get dressed and you sittin’ over there staring off into space like you dumb, blind, and deaf, Amy hissed. Without missing a beat, she went back to sweeping the spotless floor. As she turned her back to sweep at nothing visible on the pristine floor, she uttered another threat under her breath.

Now let me look up and you still sitting over there like you didn’t hear me for the fifth time! She moved the broom over each spot at least four times before moving again. Shit don’t make no sense, sometimes you remind me more of a special needs kid than a grown ass man, can’t even think for own damn yourself, can’t move unless I tell you, umph, ain’t not tellin’ what your life would be like without me! Oughta’ be glad I finally rescued your dumb behind from that crazy skank who tried to steal you from me.

As if another thought suddenly entered her mind, Amy stopped sweeping and threw her hand onto her hip.

Wait til my daddy’s investigator finds her retarded ass. I know damn well she was behind the wheel of that car that hit me and took off like a coward. Her other hand gripped the broom with such force, her knuckles started changing colors.

And I swear’fo’ God, if I find out you and that tramp been in cahoots! Amy’s blood had started boiling at the mere thought. She didn’t understand how the police couldn’t find that freak Sissy and question her about the hit and run accident that had left Amy hospitalized for more than a week.

When she didn’t hear any response from Barry, she spun on her heels, prepared to pounce on him, but he was gone.

Hm, that’s what the hell I thought, Amy said. She was pleased to no end that he understood that when she made a threat, he’d better move his ass because he knew, coming from her, it was really a promise.

Back in the bathroom, Barry lift his shirt in the mirror and looked at the black and blue bruise that had already formed where Amy hit him with the broom.

What is her problem?

He trembled when he touched the bruise. It hurt. He couldn’t explain Amy’s rage. If she wasn’t throwing something at him, she was yelling at the top of her lungs. She seemed angry all the time, and he struggled trying to avoid doing anything that might set her off.

Barry!

He jumped.

I’m ready to go, c’mon out of there!

Barry forgot what he was supposed to be doing in the bathroom.

Here I come, he yelled back as he scrambled to pull himself together. He knew if he took too long to open the door, she’d simply burst her way in. Then things would get ugly for certain, and that was the last thing he needed.

Barry! Don’t make me come in there! she warned.

Before she could hurl another threat his way, he quickly opened the door and cast his eyes downward.

What the hell took you so long? I hope you wasn’t in there jacking off or anything like that, she hissed.

Ignoring her as best he could, Barry walked over toward their bed and slipped on his loafers.

These days, when she looked at him she never saw anything she liked and she wasn’t afraid to tell him so. What happened to the love? Barry remembered when Amy was very caring, she used to be so patient and kind, but it was all a front.

You’re so pathetic,