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Aubrey Aubrey Taliaferro Marquis Marquis




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


It's over now

It's over now

I feel like I can make it

The storm is over now...

 

    The small church was filled with mourners as they walked in line to pay their respects to the coffin of Sandra Taliaferro.

      Some cried, while others held tissue over their faces as they passed by the woman's body. She had been all but thirty four years old the day it was decided that at that age; she was old enough to die. Family members wailed, shouting endearments of a life gone too soon.

   The solemn church choir she grew up singing in was filled with lifelong friends as they sang out praise in honor of their loved one. Tears were held back, while voices weren't, They sang loud enough to be heard around the block by corner boys who stood with their hands in their low riding jeans, heads bent in respect as they dealt to their rich customers.

If I walk alone

I'm not on my own

I feel like I can make it

The storm is over now

    In the front row sat a well-dressed man, owner of the driest eyes and most stoic expression out of everyone in the building. He sat with his hands clasped and forearms resting on his knees. An expensive watch ticked at his wrist, reflecting the light from the overhead lights.

   His eyes zoned in on the coffin holding Sandra.

    Anger filled him as he cursed the people who put her there.

   There she lied with her small body riddled with bullets-bullets meant for him-while he sat there watching her. He had always joked that when she sat through his funeral, he didn't want her crying while he was gone far away where he couldn't comfort her. Somehow, he never entertained the thought that he would outlive her. She was too good of a person, and he was nothing more than a generational gangster caught up in the only life that could accept him.  Dying young the way she did had been written in the books for him. This turn of events wasn't.

    Marquis blinked his burning eyes as he thought of the foolish decision which led them all here.

 

    He knew people had been looking for him with mal intent. He'd expected things to not end so well, so the last night Sandra had been alive, he had went to visit her for the last time. Marquis had thought the entire time that it would be he who would be left cold and bleeding, and her mourning the loss of her friend.

   It had only been a brief goodbye in the late night hours. He wanted to slip in and out, letting her know what was going on, letting her know that he loved and cared for her and didn't want to be hurt once she found out the news about him.

   She had cried, calling him idiotic for even talking up something like that into existence. They both knew that he only had to ways to go out in life-prison or dead-but for some reason, Sandra had seen Marquis as more than the man he knew he deserved to be. She saw him as having a chance at a normalcy he'd never experienced. She had always been the type to have hope and keep the faith even when all of the odds were placed against her. She had blessed Marquis with the kind of care he had loss with his mother when she died in his teen years, being a confidant for many years.

  The last he saw of her was her frame waving in the doorway as he drove away in his black Escalade, swallowing down the emotion that had gathered in his heart as he accepted his soon to be fate. All he could see was himself sitting at a red light, two streets away when he had heard the shots.

   By the time he had turned around and rushed to the house it was too late.

  Neighbors had fled their homes after recognizing just where the shots had been fired, hollering for someone to call 911 as they feared the worst for Sandra's small home.

   "Sandra! Someone help her!"

  "Where's Bre? Oh no, that baby was in there too! My God..."

   Marquis had entered the home before anyone else, praying for the first time in his life as his feet fell heavy towards her blood drenched carpet. He had found her standing just in front of her window, probably looking out after him when he was long gone. Her eyes were still open in shock from when she had seen the car roll up with no lights, and the windows lowering as guns had been drawn.

   The sound of a bedroom door slowly opening behind him drew his attention to the teen girl standing over him. He couldn't meet her eyes as she stared down at her mother and let out a blood curdling scream.

   Now he sat beside the same girl at her mother's funeral.

   Looking over, he checked on how Aubrey was holding up. He had known the girl her entire life. As a teenager, Sandra had been sent to live with an aunt who had money in another state. Her mother had hoped to get her out of the neighborhood, and for her to not become another girl caught up in the cycle of life there. She had been gone for an entire year, sending back letters to her mother letting her know of all the different things she got to experience and see.

  One day she had come back knocking on her mother's front door, belly protruding with her four month belly she could no longer hide from her aunt. She had been kicked out and set back right into the place she had been sent from; raising her daughter, Aubrey, as a single mother like so many before her.

   Marquis had been a childhood friend who had slowly been climbing the ranks of the street when she returned. They had grown attached, becoming each other's closest thing to a best friend over the years. Aubrey had grown up with him being the only male figure around. Though he wasn't the best by the law's book, he had been nothing wrong in her eyes. She had seen how her mother loved and trusted him, and did the same.

   She sat with a broken heart and wet eyes. Many people gave their condolences as they passed by her on their way to view Sandra's body.

   Aubrey remained silently throughout the entire ceremony. She stood motionless as the pall bearers, one of which was Marquis, carried the casket to the hearse that had been paid for by Marquis along with most of the other things that went into burying Sandra.

   When they had gone to the grave site to say their last goodbyes, Aubrey had been the only one to stand by and watch as her mother was put into her final resting place.

   While the other guests had moved on to the home gathering, Marquis had stayed behind with a few of his armed men standing guard. Watching Aubrey from a distance, he scratched his head as he wondered how much she hated him now.

   The night of the shooting, she had looked on at Marquis with hate filled eyes that he more than deserved. He could read it through her silence-the blame she had placed on him for what had happened. He didn't know how to comfort her in a time like this, and had dealt with the silence she had given him for the past few days.

   He watched her closely as she took ginger steps toward the hole in the ground, and turned his head as she dropped to her knees and cried.

   Gripping the leather steering wheel beneath his hand, he waited for however long it took her to let it all out. When he heard the backseat of his car open and close, he started the engine and drove on with his men surrounding him.

oOo

  Aubrey hadn't slept in three days as she lied in her bed shaking viciously.

  Even though she remained in the house, she still felt that it was empty. She had been given many offers for a place to stay in the days following her mother's funeral, but had refused every last one of them.

   If she couldn't have her mother here to hold her, she would at least bask in the scent and memories left behind in their house.

   It seemed that as soon as the crime scene tape had been put up around the house, they were taken down. Aubrey knew what it all had meant, and didn't expect anything less.

   Just another instance of killing in the hood wasn't of much concern to the police or city.

  Sitting up slowly in the bed of her mother, she smacked her dry lips together as her body began to show signs of its thirst. Walking to the kitchen, she pulled out a plastic cup, and filled it to the brim with tap water. Downing it, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and went to fill it again. This time, she sipped on the drink as she leaned against the counter. It was dark in the house, shadows covering the walls around her.

    Her eyes floated to the window and broken glass that lied on their living room couch. Taking a sip, she shook her head. It had rained one day, and she had taken to time to tack up old blankets to keep the water out as much as she could.

   Looking further, her gaze landed on the dark smearing of blood she had tried her hardest to blot out. Aubrey had sat with a bowl of cold water and a towel as she dabbed the ground for hours at a time, ignoring the tired feeling in her muscles from the action. The results had left her with a reminder of the last bit of life her mother had left behind.

  Finishing her second cup of water, Aubrey slammed it down on the counter. She walked away slowly, eyes not letting the living room out of her sight until she was back inside of her mother's bedroom. Sighing, she fell back onto the fresh comforter set that was still made up from the last time Sandra had been home.

  With her face turned to the rotating ceiling fan,  Aubrey could hear her name being called faintly. Her heavy lids fluttered shut as she fell into a deep sleep for days with the sound of her mother's voice in her ear.

oOo

  Marquis gripped the bag of fast food breakfast in his hand as he stepped out of his car. He had caught word that Aubrey had shut herself off into her house, ignoring phone calls and knocks from the concerned neighbors who had helped to raise her. He had visited for the first time early that morning, but he too was met with no answer as he banged on the front door. He could hear the sound of an alarm clock going off from the inside, and had no idea that Aubrey had lied wide awake listening to the blaring sound.

  This time when he approached the front door, he found it unlocked and opened just ajar. Cardboard boxes were stacked on the front porch now. Pushing the door open, he followed the sounds of movement in a back bedroom.

   He found her taking down clothes hangers from her mother's closet, and folding the clothes into boxes. She moved fast, not acknowledging his presence, even though she had left the door open just for him. He took note of her jitteriness as she sorted through different items.

     "I called a place that would come pick this stuff up today. They can give it to someone else who needs it." She spoke quickly.

   "Bre.."

   "I was going to ask Ms. Anderson if she knew anybody that could use some house stuff...furniture, y'know? Mama just bought her dresser a few months back. It's still in good shape." Walking past him, she dumped one of the drawers from said dresser onto the bed.

   Reaching forward, Marquis grabbed her by the shoulder, finally stopping her. Holding up the paper bag in his hand, he shook it. "Come eat."

   "I need to get this all packed up. They'll be here in an hour." She contested.

   "I'm telling you to come eat Bre. When's the last time you ate?" He asked her.

  Snatching her arm away, he saw the first sign of anger in Aubrey.

   Dropping the drawer on the ground, she just barely missed their feet. Grabbing the bag from his hands, she opened it and looked inside as she moved to the kitchen. Marquis clenched his fists together as he took a look around the room. He was surprised to see that Aubrey had managed to damn near clear the room.

   Aubrey sat at the small round dining table that had been enough for her and Sandra during their meals. She had been big on sitting together for a meal each day, and Aubrey now sat settled in her mother's old seat as she bit into the biscuit she held in one hand, and gripped a box of orange juice in the other.

   Marquis sat down across from her as she murmured out a thanks in between bites. He looked on as she scarfed down the first sandwich in seconds, and was glad that he had gone with his instinct in buying two as she reached into the bag and withdrew the other one.

  Tapping on the table, Aubrey chewed a mouthful. She and Marquis eyed each other. He giving her his apologies through his brown orbs as she accepted them with a nod of her head.

   "What's up?" She said.

   Shaking his head, Marquis looked away, seeing the blood stained carpet in the distance. Aubrey's own eyes travelled between him and the floor.

   "I got most of it up. It's not that easy." She pulled one leg up, bracing her shin against the table as she took another bite of her food.

   "Ms. Anderson said she's still got a bed open for you. You need to stop being so hard headed and go stay with her."

   "There's nothing for me there." She responded shaking her head.

   "Ain't shit for you here. You just gonna stay in the same place-"

   "Where my mama got shot up? Behind your ass?" She interrupted." This is my home Marquis. You got some nerve to come up in here talking about what happened and how I should be handling it, don't you?"

   Aubrey crumpled her wrapper up, tossing it into the bag.

   "I'm trying to look out for you Bre-"

  " Oh, really."

  Narrowing his eyes, he stood to his feet with a dry chuckle.

   "Yes, really. You wanna be a hard ass, then be."

  "You act as if I'm wrong for that."

   "You've been up in this house, not talking to nobody, not coming out the house."

   "My mama just died!" Aubrey nearly turned over the table as she jumped to her feet. "Or did you happen to forget? Cause it wasn't you, it wasn't that serious, right? I'll be whatever the hell I want to be right now. If you're just here to stand around and talk mess I'm not trying to hear, then you can bounce."

   When she stomped off to the bedroom and slammed the door, Marquis remained in his spot unable to move.

   Aubrey quickly opened the door, sticking her head out only to see him still there.

   "Leave!" Her eyes raged on as he turned and left out of the door, closing it softly behind him. She had never spoken to Marquis that way before in her life, and it pained her to. When she thought of what her life had fallen to in a matter of days because of him, she couldn't help but be driven to the kind of hate she began to feel.

  Wiping her eyes, Aubrey sucked up the tears pounding behind her eyes and continued on packing.

oOo

   From the top of the closet, Aubrey pulled down a footlocker that had been clasped closed by her mother's own handiwork with a lock. Sandra had made sure that Aubrey knew the combination in case of an emergency, and had kept her away from it for any other reason.

   Turning the dial, she slowly lifted the lid, unsure of what lied inside.

   The container was neatly packed with miscellaneous items. Flipping through birth certificates and other papers with important information, Aubrey came across a black gun and her heart began to beat fast. Lifting it carefully, she placed it far away from her, pointed in another direction.

   Next, she found rings and other odd jewelry she had never seen her mother wear before. She wondered where she would have gotten such lavish gifts from with her meager salary as a waitress.

  Her question was alerted even more by the stacks of money that lied at the bottom of the large container.

  "What the hell?" She pulled out five, flipping through the green money. They had been known to live paycheck to paycheck, so her surprise was well placed.

  "Marquis..." She whispered to herself. It had to have been his drug money he would hand off to Sandra every now and then. Aubrey knew that her mother respected Marquis's hustle, but never wanted to see any of it when she was around him, which was hard to ask of him.  Somehow, she had managed to keep that side of Marquis to a minimum while she grew up, and the few times that Aubrey had seen him in his environment was whenever she was out with friends she knew her mother would curse her out for hanging with.

   He would always shoo her away when she happened upon him, telling her to not tell her mom of what she had seen. Though he couldn't promise Sandra much of anything, he made sure to keep Aubrey out of trouble to the extent of his abilities. Though they lived in a rough area, Aubrey had been exposed to the best that Sandra could manage.

    When Sandra saw how fast she accelerated through elementary school, she immediately looked to put her in reputable schools in the suburbs where Aubrey would receive a better funded education. The city had left the local schools to rot on their own, letting them go to waste as factories that turned out the highest dropout rates and most imprisoned before the age of twenty one. Aubrey's school life had been filled with many bus rides and walking just to go to a school she never felt a part of. Then when she would return home to her own neighborhood, she had to deal with the taunts of her friends and other kids.

   By fourteen she had beaten enough asses to get the point across that no matter where she spent her school days, she still was one of them, and with that warning out, things had fallen back to normal and there was a wordless agreement not to fuck with Aubrey Taliaferro.

   Once she had entered high school and had proven to be one of the top students in the state with her high test scores and athletic skills, she soon found a wedge in place with her life at home and life at school.  With a mother as determined as Sandra to not have her baby fall victim to the evils that lurked the streets, Aubrey did begin to see the differences that existed between her and the kids of her neighborhood and the distance that they all seemed to stay at.

   Slowly she had found herself retreating more. Studying hard, going to all of her practices to only get home late at night. While it had already been decided at school that she hadn't fit in with kids who had only seen the things that she experienced everyday of her life through tv, she had begun to come to the conclusion that even at home she would have to deal with the fact that she would never be fully looked at as the same as everyone else.

   Caught up in her thoughts, Aubrey heard the sound of knocking coming from the front door. Rising to her feet, she folded the last box in the room, and brought it out with her.

   "Coming!" She called to the men waiting on the other side. Opening the door, she began to point out what should be loaded as they moved the boxes to their white truck with a faded logo.

   "Is this all?" One of them called. His partner removed his hat, and rubbed away the sweat that dripped down his forehead in the late July heat.

   " I want to check one last time." Holding up her finger, Aubrey ran back inside, scanning the house for any more things that needed to go. As she looked in her mother's room, she came across a corner of a box jutting out from the bottom of the closet. She didn't remember sticking one in there, and as she tugged it out, she found it taped up and marked in her mother's handwriting.

 

   Aubrey smoothed her hands across the A.R. written large in red letters.

   "Hey, Lady!" A rough voice called. Turning to the door, she ran back out.

   "That's all." She said, rubbing her hands on her shirt. She faced off with the man for an awkward moment before he scoffed.

  "Well, you gonna pay me or what?" He asked with his hand held out.

  "Just a second." She said again as he sucked his teeth. He looked around the house, and for the first time caught sight of the living room.

  "Crazy bitch." He said beneath his breath.

   Aubrey emerged once again, money in hand as she handed it to him. He eyed it, counting what was there.

  "You have a good day." Tipping his hat, he left out with more than what was necessary in his hand. Sticking a few bills into his own pocket, he hoped up into the passenger seat of the van as the pair drove off down the street.

   Rushing back, Aubrey stood over the taped box that had caught her attention.

   She had never seen it before, and could tell that maybe she wasn't supposed to.

   Immediately she went to work on peeling off the tape, ripping it off quickly. Flipping back its flaps, Aubrey's hands stopped moving at what she saw.

  There were newspapers and magazines neatly organized inside.

Our very own homegrown success

  At Home with Russo

 

  Sandra had a load of clippings hidden away. Some of them were recent, and others dated back as far as ten years. As Aubrey began to check them out, she started to notice one thing that they all had in common. In some way, shape, or form the name Antonio Russo appeared somewhere.

  Her mom had some obsession with this guy?

  Aubrey chuckled as she began to skim through the entire book marked pages until she fell upon a picture of the man in question.

   In her hands was some charming young man, decked out in an expensive suit as he posed for a picture in a casual manner.

  "Who's the white dude?"  Aubrey read the caption below his picture and saw the name of Antonio once again. She began to associate the name with the black and white picture above. Closing the book, she tossed it to the side. Whatever her mother had been up to with her stalking of this guy, she couldn't figure out.

  When Aubrey came across dated notebook paper folded into perfect squares, she was met with an answer. Opening the pieces of paper, she began to read the scratchy handwriting that started with Dear Sandra.

   She soon realized that what she held was in fact a love letter written to her mother. She stopped reading it, suddenly feeling like she was intruding in on something. Sandra had never brought home men, in fact, the only man who had really visited the house had been Marquis, and she had never known them to be more than friends.

   Her love life was obviously something she had wanted to keep private, but with the lack of stories of love from her mother from her youth had left Aubrey with no perception of that emotion at all. She had heard of sex and crushes from other girls, and was never too much interested in the matter. Now she sat here curious of what her mother had experienced.

   There had never been talk of Aubrey's gather growing up, so that had never posed as an issue for as far as Sandra could tell. Aubrey chucked her missing father up to being in prison, dead, or a no show, so she never saw the need to push it any further.

   Reading the letter, Aubrey found herself amused as the guy who wrote this seemed to enamored with her mother's eyes, her laugh, and every other little thing she did. When she got to the bottom, she read the name Tony and thought nothing of it.

  Looking back into the box, she saw that there were dozens more just like it waiting for her.

 

   Opening them up one by one, she finally began to notice the signature never changed.

   Tony

  Tony

 Tony

   The letters became explicit, describing her mother in words that were precious between young lovers. Aubrey flipped through all of them.

   "Tony...Tony...Tony..." She said aloud. Grabbing a magazine, she flipped back to a marked page and re read Antonio Russo's name.

    "No way..." She said with a smile. Her mother had kept tabs on an old boyfriend. Bursting out in laughter, she suddenly wished that Sandra was here so that she could tease her for the crush she could never let go of.

    An envelope fell from the stack of papers Aubrey held, catching her eye. As she began to calm down, she reached for it, seeing that it was different from the other letters. On it was a heading addressed to this Antonio guy, this time from her mother.

   Her laughter died down as she turned it over, seeing that it had been sealed and stamped, but never sent. A somber mood fell in the room as Aubrey began to feel a draft in the house. Goosebumps covered her arms as she fingered the seal, not sure if the sudden feeling washing over her was a sign to leave the envelope intact.

  Read it.

  A voice said to her.

  Open it. You need to see it.

  On their own accord, her fingers slid beneath the seal, breaking it. Her heart beat in her throat, making her uncomfortable as she pulled out the pink stationary paper. She could smell a faint scent on the paper, and held it to her nose inhaling her mother's favorite perfume. For as long as she could remember, Sandra had always smelled like it.

Dear Antonio,

I know that it has been a long time since we had last spoken, I hope you haven't forgotten about me...the way things were left have never sat right with me...I miss you some days that it physically hurts...What I'm writing to you about... our daughter...I hope you understand.

 

   Aubrey took in each line piece by piece, reading it multiple times. The most memorable thing that stayed behind for her was the words "our daughter."   Aubrey's fingers went limp, letting the paper float down to her feet.

  A knot formed in her stomach, making the breakfast she had eaten twist and turn.

 

   Scooting backwards until she came into contact with the foot of the bed, Aubrey drew her knees into her as her eyes began to water. With a shaky hand, she drew a magazine to her, looking down at the smile of the man who was her other half.






Chapter End Notes:

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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.