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Published by Nathaniel Christian IV

Copyright 2017 Nathaniel Christian IV

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Thank you for downloading Thirsty. This free ebook remains the copyrighted property of the author. If you enjoyed this ebook, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. This free ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes.

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Thirsty is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Zariah loved him. Tahir claimed to love her. He was engaged, but she was not. Together, they freed each other’s sacred flesh from the agony of monotony, forming a communion that was entrenched in lust. If not for her best friend, Sauda (pronounced sa-ooh-da), Zariah would have Tahir all to herself. Instead, she settled for the distinction of being maid of honor at her confidant’s wedding. Two wretched souls lay.

It wasn’t always this way.

Once upon a time, Sauda Grace and Zariah Wright were as close as sisters. They raised in the same neighborhood, attended the same schools, same friends and both were scarred early on by the absence of a loving father.

Venting about love’s distorted illusion, the two grew up dreaming of their very own fairytale weddings, side-by-side in a dual ceremony. It was Zariah who had made the suggestion and Sauda who ostensibly agreed to the arrangement. Admiring her friend from afar, Sauda couldn’t help but to think that if only she was as outgoing and pretty as her best friend who she was older than by seventeen days, perhaps she could find love. Despite Sauda’s lack of self-confidence, she wowed at a petite, dark and tasty 5’7 to go with her shapely frame.

And when love delivered to Zariah, she would show up at Sauda’s place – excited about her new man – just to return a few months later in tears and Sauda would be there to comfort her. Clutching onto her sidekick, Sauda would kiss into Zariah’s sweet hair as a mother would to a daughter who had fallen off her bicycle and scraped her knee for the first time.

When Zariah lost her job and place, it was Sauda who dried her tears, offering her a rent-free deal until Zariah was able to get back onto her feet.

“That’s what sisters are for!” Sauda would say with a sincere smile. “I got you. I love you always, my dear friend. Don’t worry!”

Though Zariah could be bubbly and self-centered at times, short, with her gorgeous body and freckled brown face, Sauda accepted her as family and at times put Zariah ahead of her own career and everything else that was important to her. Zariah seemed to appreciate it, up until tragedy struck Sauda three summers ago when her mother became ill and passed away suddenly at fifty-seven.

Sauda was devastated. Inside of her shattered heart were the memories of growing up confused, dejected and fatherless. Her mother was the father that Sauda had never seen; he had abandoned her at birth. Once, she recalled seeing his ghostly figure during her childhood by the corner market where she used to live, but that’s all she remembered of him.

On the day of the funeral, Zariah appeared with an ill-advised man accompanying her. And when that man said “jump,” Zariah asked him, “How high?” And when he told her to pant like a dog, she panted. And on that day when he had seen enough of Sauda grieving over her mother’s wooden coffin and suggested to leave, Zariah left Sauda there to mourn all on her own.

As Sauda’s world had collapsed entirely, Zariah’s began to swell. In a stroke of luck, she had found herself a well-paying job and a cozy pad to move into under her new man. She became busy suddenly, ignoring Sauda’s attempt to talk as she was now the one who had fallen on hard times and needed help. Zariah, nowhere to be found, was afraid too much time in front of Sauda would jeopardize her shady relationship to Mr. Wonderful. Of course, Sauda noticed, but as usual, she let it roll down her back and defended Zariah whenever her friend’s name came up. Then, when Zariah would come crawling back to Sauda’s place after her new man had misused her, begging her friend to take her in yet again, Sauda agreed but not without giving her a piece of her mind. Things would be different this time around. Sauda would require that Zariah pay half of the expenses and gave her immoral friend a time window. After that, Zariah was on her own and would have to fend for herself.

What later followed was a fallout between the two as they severed their ties over the almighty dollar amongst other things. For the first time in their twenty years of friendship, Sauda and Zariah were angry at one another. Sauda believed that Zariah was getting over on her and Zariah thought that Sauda had been a sexless, hormonal, money-driven fiend.

After a hefty argument and a broken glass mirror that Sauda’s mother had once given her daughter as a housewarming gift, Sauda’s wrath got the better of her. In the pouring, wintry rain on a bitter cold evening when the air was in its teens, Sauda demanded Zariah to pack her things and leave. So, Zariah did, shacking over at a relative’s house that same night but not before reminding Sauda that someday she would be sorry for hastily shoving her friend out into the cold. She was right.

Weeks after their bumbling fiasco, the two reunited. Sauda called to apologize and to re-open the doors of her home to Zariah. Though the apology was convincing (and the invitation even more genuine), Zariah decided not to. Instead, she told Sauda that she would move back home to be closer to her mother. Though Zariah claimed all was forgiven, the devil was at work within her vindictive soul and she pondered revenge.

Then the day came when Sauda broke the news that she had met someone. Zariah was single and jealous; in her mind, Sauda was never as dazzling as she was. Zariah’s body was as dainty as a Hollywood celebrity, she believed, but all that changed the night she met Sauda’s lover, Tahir Williams. Sculpted, well over six-feet-tall, dark complexed with jet black hair and honey-hazel eyes, Zariah nearly fainted when she met Sauda’s beau who was a spitting image of Nigerian-American actor Gbenga Akinnagbe. Extending his hand for a polite shake, Zariah giggled nervously as Tahir introduced himself to her. His handshake was gentle but firm, the skin inside of his palm as warm as a summer’s night.

Later that night inside of her home, Zariah crashed onto her living room floor, green with envy. He’s so this and he’s so that and she began to wonder. Where did Sauda meet him? Does he have a brother or a cousin?

Alone to her thoughts, Zariah figured a cold shower would ease her fidgety mind. Hoping to rid her temptation, she scrubbed away the lust forming between her sodden legs. The devil had been busy with her since she laid eyes on Tahir; the thought of tasting his forbidden fruit was crippling to her. When all else failed, she cried herself to sleep in resentment and jealousy, complaining to her Lord and Savior.

“What makes Sauda so special? Why am I so undeserving?”

Unable to detach from her vivid imagination, Zariah pictured Sauda’s lover inside of her, prodding her canal down to its root.

Sauda was in love. Tahir did all of the right things: opened doors, pulled out chairs and sent flowers to his lover “just because” to show his appreciation. On Facebook and Instagram, Sauda posted photos and live videos, flaunting her new man. It brought life to her social media status as she never had a man as sweet as Tahir Williams. As mutual friends complimented with their congratulations, Zariah, without a knight and shining armor of her own, was left out in the cold.

Now, it was Zariah who was all alone and Sauda who was busy always, showing up to their nights out “glowing” and brooding with self-esteem and positivity as Zariah sucked down a martini and listened as Sauda spoke of how wonderful Tahir was. Rather than to congratulate, there was hate and shade in the way of snide remarks.

“Where is my sister?” Zariah would often joke, jealousy in her heart. “Since Tahir started coming around, you’re distant and hardly around. Are you that absent-minded to forget about me?”

Then one day, Sauda invited Zariah over to Tahir’s home to help celebrate a promotion he received at his job amongst family and friends. The kind gesture was a fatal mistake. Sauda’s friend showed up glistening, sporting dark shades, amber nails and the wickedest dress inside of her wardrobe. Figuring, maybe, Tahir Williams had a cousin or a brother, Zariah was at her best. Her idea, however, was a bust; the only relatives of Tahir’s there at this event were twice her age and Zariah was in no mood to be hit on by any old geezers. Instead, Zariah validated her inflated ego. After all, she didn’t come all this far, sporting her most stunning dress for nothing.

Flaunting her bodacious curves, when it came Zariah’s turn to congratulate Tahir with a hug, she gave him a zealous hug. Pressing her cleavage into him, she praised Tahir on a job well-done, although, she didn’t know what exactly he did for work in the first place.

“Congratulations,” she told him, squishing her tight breasts onto him as if he were her lover, distracting his faithful mind on the plumped shade of her toned body, spooning him. She might as well have asked, “How much do you want me?” is was that kind of hug and Tahir took the bait as a courteous gesture. Placing his huge arms around Zariah, he hugged her at the waist, his face coming close to Zariah’s before catching himself and awkwardly shoving Zariah aside. His eyes were as wide as a street lamp. Thankfully, Sauda had been preoccupied by burrowing guests that afternoon and was unaware of the deception.

At another event, Sauda’s 33rd birthday party, Zariah wore a different outfit, even more seductive than her last: a designer and sequin pencil skirt dress that bared her hairless arms. She had overdressed yet again, throwing attendees for a loop, including Sauda, who showed for her old-fashioned ice cream social in sweats and a ponytail. Zariah’s antics were successful, catching the attention of Tahir who couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. Gullible and naïve, it was hard for Sauda to envision Zariah commitment to stealing her man. As friends attempted to warn Sauda of the impending danger, she voided their concerns.

One day, on the clock at her job, Zariah spent her morning searching for Tahir through Facebook. Finding him, she sent a friend request and was quickly granted access to Tahir’s page where she saw pictures of Sauda and him together throughout his account. Smiling together, Tahir’s profile picture featured the two lovebirds posing in front of an orangey lake as a honey-golden sun rose behind them. In another photo, Tahir carried his enchantress across a sandy beach with Sauda’s gorgeous face busted into fits of laughter as her dirty soles dangled from her lover’s waistline. Tahir was more man than Zariah had ever known or seen. The next day, she messaged Sauda’s boyfriend to congratulate him “again” on his promotion (as if she didn’t make it to the party). It should’ve ended there, but it didn’t. Zariah continued messaging him through Facebook, asking odd questions -- anything to keep Tahir’s reply.

Then, well into their relationship (as most couples do at some point), Sauda and Tahir began to experience problems. Bad problems. Intimacy problems. Although the two had been intimate before in their relationship, Sauda, found it difficult to adjust to the needs of her devotee -- not because she didn’t want to -- she had always enjoyed a sexual relationship.

Sauda worked often with few days to herself throughout the week where she enjoyed resting, painting and sipping wine to quiet her aching heart. After all, she was still grieving the loss of her mother which at times, Zariah thought, depleted Sauda’s desire for romance. Sadly, Zariah was right, confronting Sauda with the idea that she was using Tahir as nothing more than a distraction from her crumbled and busy life. Sauda agreed, vowing to pull her act together “before something bad happens,” like Tahir getting fed up with her excuses over their lack of intimacy. What a blow that would be to lose such a good man that Sauda believed him to be.

That was all Zariah needed to hear. What followed was more private Facebook chats between her and Tahir, who by this time, had begun seeking advice from Zariah on how to better his relationship with Sauda. Back and forth the two talked as Zariah killed him with compliments about how lucky Sauda was to have to him and just how unlucky she had been in finding love. Zariah had painted the picture of Sauda as none other than a goodie-two-shoes, hell-bent on containing what was left of herself for marriage. In other words, Tahir had been played (she subtly eluded) and he was now stuck in the unfortunate position of waiting on Sauda to decide if she truly wanted him or not.

Hanging onto her every word, Tahir was left speechless. He thought that he and Sauda were doing well. Tahir knew all about Sauda’s mother’s passing and took to comforting her, hoping his love would be an addition to his woman’s life. Instead, according to Zariah, he had been suckered into a faulty, sexless relationship and was being used as a scapegoat to help Sauda grieve with her tremendous loss. Incensed by the deception, he became emotionally unavailable to Sauda as she had done to him at times.

Concealed behind her fakery and phony well-wishes, Zariah’s flattery continued as she played both sides of the fence. A week after ratting out her best friend, Zariah’s messages and “polidicking” snowballed into daily good mornings. What soon followed was an invitation for Sauda and her flame to meet at Zariah’s place for wine. Her intention? To get another look at Tahir and to see if he was for real.

Behind the scenes as Tahir confided in her, the two formed somewhat of a friendship, promising to keep their conversations a secret. They had a lot in common, Zariah noticed, and she was curious to find out whether Sauda’s relationship was dumb luck or something that was meant to be. To safeguard her agenda, Zariah invited both her co-workers and neighbors to attend her gathering.

Fake as a cheap fuck, Zariah’s laughter filled the house that night. At times, she’d cut her jade eyes to the corner of her home where Tahir sat. Ironically, Sauda and Tahir had come in separate cars that evening, angry at one another for what they didn’t yet know; Zariah had purposely displaced them both.

Staring across a crowded room, Zariah watched as her crush stole the energy at her gathering. Charming and funny, she noticed her guests all captivated by his commanding aura. The way he said “hello” and the way he spoke so assuredly was one of a kind. All the women that evening adored him, circling his handsome frame as Sauda appeared gratified that her lover had been accepted. Yet, between them, the tension was still at its peak.

Spying him, sipping her fancy Chardonnay, Zariah’s heart plummeted as she leaked into her promiscuous thong beneath her classless outfit. Tahir would stare back at her often before pretending to look away and that’s when Zariah knew she had broken him.

Yes! Tahir had passed, giving her the green light to pursue him. In her book, he had dotted every “i” and crossed every “t.” Meanwhile, Sauda never saw what hit her. For that was the night, Zariah desired a slice of Sauda’s dark-flavored Nigerian pie and would move heaven and earth to get it. Hell, or high water, Zariah would have him. Crossing through rushing rivers, she would leave Sauda to drown knowing Tahir was on the other side…

Weeks after Zariah’s half-hearted event and after seven and a half months together, in tears, Sauda phoned Zariah late one evening to tell her friend that it was over; she and Tahir had split. Sobbing uncontrollably during their conversation, she pleaded with Zariah for advice and asked for her to reach out to her ex-lover who had refused attempts to answer her calls. Zariah agreed to reach out to Tahir, but not for the reasons Sauda thought…

On a Tuesday, Zariah invited Tahir over to her place after work for what she claimed was “important” regarding his lover, Sauda. Rather than to pass on that Sauda had been trying to contact him, Zariah had a message of her own.

“I am sorry for this,” Zariah played the role as Sauda’s apologist. “Sauda hasn’t been straight with you since day one.” Then she hugged him with fake tears drowning from her desperate eyes and continued her sabotaging ways. “Sauda is my best friend and I love her to pieces, but she is still trying to find her way in this world. One day she might overcome her demons, but not today. This whole relationship was a hoax, a sick fantasy. She never wanted you from the first place. If you asked me, Sauda never truly loved you from the start.”

Then Tahir told Zariah something she had longed to hear from him.

“It hurts my heart to hear that this whole thing was a fix,” he confided. “I should’ve listened to you. Sauda doesn’t deserve to have you as a friend. She’s so selfish. The truth is, Zariah, since we’ve began talking like this, I’ve always liked you and wondered how things would’ve been if we had dated instead of me and Sauda.”

Zariah concurred with a light kiss, purring against Sauda’s ex-lover.

“I feel the same way,” Zariah glared into him. “I’ve loved you from the day Sauda introduced us. Please forgive me. I tried to allow your relationship with Sauda to flourish, but she’s far too preoccupied elsewhere to care. She doesn’t want you, but I do and if I can’t have you, please don’t tell her that I ever told you all of this. I just hate to see such a great man go to waste.”

“That’s good to know and I agree.” Tahir smiled. “Sauda can’t know about this. It would kill her, moreso than the death of her own mother.”

“Please, let’s not talk about death!” Zariah laughed. “I promise this is between us.”

Moaning, groaning, punishing her raw, Zariah released all but a drip of her earthly nectar onto Tahir. An amazing spectacle this dark gentleman was, he could do no wrong to any part of her. Teasing, flirting, smashing into her well like a battering ram, there was no escape. Even if Zariah had wanted him to stop, her lips couldn’t verbalize a surrender; she had nothing left. Screaming together for their first time, it seemed as if their two bodies had been made for one another. Like a drug, they became addicted as Zariah opted to keep up her charade for as long as her howling insides could withstand. The thrill of Tahir not belonging to her made every back-arching orgasm worth it. For Tahir, Zariah was an assured and safe get away with no obligation and filled the void of Sauda’s fake love.

He would never have to play “life” with Zariah. They would never have to worry about bills, children, home repairs or the coming years. The only repairs Tahir was concerned about was repairing the pipe work to his mistress’ shuddering vagina.

Meanwhile, Sauda had taken apart her life, dissecting her shortcomings piece-by-piece, attempting to restore the love she had lost. Eventually finding her way, she phoned her best friend for advice on how to win back Tahir. Zariah, worse than the devil, advised Sauda to move on from her past transgressions, suggesting Tahir had likely moved on (it had only been two months since the couple last spoke).

Believing that her work was completed, Zariah plotted for a union with Tahir, anticipating a relationship for the ages. Tahir on the other hand, had other plans. Away from his mistress, in private, he missed Sauda and attempted to reunite with her. Excited about the possibility of rekindling their fractured relationship, Sauda phoned Zariah to share the news with her best friend. With her best poker face imitation, Zariah praised her, offering support and words of encouragement. Offline, she ripped Sauda to shreds and accused Tahir of playing the two against one another (the same treasonous act she committed).

“I don’t care what that bitch says she wants!” Zariah reprimanded Tahir one day at her home after another punishing session. “You two are finished! Tell your old girlfriend that you don’t want anything to do with her.”

Three months later during the summer months, Tahir and Sauda became engaged and Zariah was enraged. Days later, Sauda asked her confidant and close friend to be the maid of honor at her wedding. Zariah bitterly agreed.

Feeling betrayed, she contemplated for the perfect ending to her best friend’s life but quickly thought against it – no – she wouldn’t go that far, not over a man. Instead, Zariah decided that fucking her best friend’s “soon-to-be” would suffice. Sauda could have whatever was left, afterwards. Tahir was no better, promising Sauda to be the man she had dreamed of while slaying Zariah’s filthy soul.

“How could you do this to us?” Zariah chastised him. “I’ve waited my entire life for a man like you and you go running off to marry my best friend who never wanted you from the start? You must be a brand-new fool to not want this pussy, boy. Sauda could never love you the same as I could! I can offer you so much more.”

“Woman,” Tahir told her, “I’ve had just about all that you could offer to me.”

Weeks before a scandalous wedding would happen in Greece, the secret lovers were back together underneath Zariah’s sheets. Tahir said his goodbyes the only way he knew how, breaking Zariah’s back, goring her lathered well to orgasmic bliss. Then, to his mistress’s despair, he used his tongue to tickle at her sprinkling juices as sap flowed from her tree of life. Riving from the pleasuring pain, the toes on Zariah’s left foot curled against her will as she cried out another loud tune; her soul exhuming itself from her body. One last time, she tried to revive her crooked trickery.

“Leave her!” Zariah demanded of him as tears fell from her lonely eyes. “Come start a new life with me,” she commanded. “Ever since I knew your name, I’ve loved you – I’ll always love you. I hate that you’re marrying Sauda and not me.”

“We’ve been here before.” Tahir reprised. “You know how I feel about this.”

“You said you loved me,” she complained. “How could you say that and not mean it?”

“I say a lot of things that I don’t mean sometimes.” He answered back.

“Then why are you marrying my best friend if love is just meaningless to you?”

“Of course, I love her!” Tahir shouted, lifting himself from inside of her. “Are you crazy, woman? I love Sauda with all my heart which is why this must come to an end before the wedding in a few weeks.”

“What about me?” She asked. “Where do I fit into all of this?”

“Zariah, you are the most incredible specimen I’ve ever had,” he complimented, “better than my fiancé. Unfortunately, as a wife, you do not compare. If it were not for that, I would already be married to you. Sauda can never know of this,” Tahir warned. “Tonight, once I leave from here, things must go back to the way they were. You are my future wife’s best friend, confidant and maid of honor. Nothing more, nothing less. Sauda doesn’t need you as her enemy. Please don’t make this hard on us both.”

“I hate that you’re doing this.” She cried. “Why are you so cold?”

“Woman, why are you so thirsty?” He asked. “Is it not enough that we’ve shared the same bed? How could you be so thirsty and selfish to think of yourself when there’s a wedding in less than two weeks?”

“Thirsty?” She asked. “I’ve only been thirsty for you. No one else!”

“What else is new? Soon, I’ll marry my precious Sauda and you and I will no longer be. Our union must come to an end, tonight.”

“Then I shall tell Sauda!” Zariah threatened. “It’s the right thing to do. She should know about us and what we’ve been doing.”

“No! Woman you can’t do that!” Tahir panicked. “The truth about us would bury her! I am begging you! What will it take for you to keep your mouth closed about this? How much?”

“What I want, money can’t afford. I’ve been your secret long enough. Sauda should’ve known about this from the beginning.”

“Ho, where was your heart in the beginning? Suddenly now you’re so brazen and bold. What do you want besides my love? I’ve entertained you long enough!”

“My wish you can’t afford and you’re no better than me! We both take part in this!”

“I accept that.” Tahir responded. “Please, allow me to pay you to keep this between us.”

“I am not after any of your money. I have a problem that is much bigger than anything you could ever provide for me. I am sick. I’ve fallen ill and need your help.”

“Sick?” Tahir laughed, raising his devilish brow. “Ho, you couldn’t spell sick if your life depended on it. “What are these games you speak of?”

“I am too, sick!” She yelled in anger. “I’ll prove it. I’ll spell it for you.”

“Well then, make it quick!” Tahir demanded, snapping his finger. “I need time to myself to figure out how to break the news of our affair to Sauda.”

“H-I-V.” Zariah spelled. “That’s how you spell sick. Now, who’s the thirsty ho?”

Vile with guilt, Tahir sat on the floor of his apartment, a shell of himself. A week had passed since Zariah disturbed him with the possibility of his infection. Since then, he had broken all contact with her. Ill from his worries, it was the first time Tahir cried in a long time. Hoping to cleanse Zariah’s poisoned flesh from his soul, he tried attending worship alongside Sauda – a first – considering that Tahir had little to no spiritual identity.

One uncanny Sunday morning at church, Tahir broke down onto Sauda, soaking her lap with tears as a congregation of mourners poured over him for support. Seeing Tahir weak always upset Sauda and she had no choice but to join him in an uncontrollable sob; she loved him unconditionally with every fiber in her being and couldn’t imagine living without him.

Later that same day, when asked about his sudden outburst at church, Tahir told Sauda that he had been doing some thinking lately and decided that he didn’t deserve her. This both confused and upset Sauda as she felt that she and Tahir were made for one another. And if that was the case, why did Tahir seek to reconcile their fractured relationship after their separated? Questions loomed inside of her wandering mind. Needless to say, Sauda bypassed her suspicions and comforted him, reassuring Tahir that he was her protector and savior.

Like the wicked drama-fiend she was, Zariah looked to ruin things between the two. Each passing day since she and Tahir had discontinued their enraptured affair, Zariah sent frightening text messages to Tahir’s cell phone, threatening to reveal their secret to Sauda. In one message, Zariah wrote that she was “glad I passed on the gift that keeps on giving” and that she “hopes your first baby is born with the virus too!”

Infuriated by her inflammatory blackmail, Tahir had his ex-mistress’s cellular, house and work phone numbers all blocked by his service provider. Unable to reach him by phone, Zariah attacked him through email, cranking the heat with more insidious tactics. “Why are you hiding from me you little bitch?” One email read. “I hope you die, Tahir! If what I gave you doesn’t kill you, then this will! Rest assured or rest in peace. Stop hiding from me, you little bitch.”

Contrary to her falsehood, Zariah maintained her artificial friendship to Sauda, hell bent on avenging her discarded ego. Often, she teetered between afflicting psychological torture on Tahir by showing up to his place of work or following him to Sauda’s place, pretending that her run-ins were innocent and coincidental.

One night, Zariah showed up unexpectedly at Sauda’s home when Tahir was there. Over wine, she patronized and hurled jokes directed at Tahir in front of his future wife. Tahir had no choice but to accept the satanic humor, staring a hole through Zariah, wishing he had the nerve to kill her.

“You two are so lucky to have one another,” Zariah complimented, laughing devilishly into Tahir’s manic face. “You know, Tahir,” she continued. “I wish all men were like you. Wouldn’t you agree, Sauda? If every man was like Tahir, no woman on this earth would ever have to worry about infidelity or catching HIV because her man is out there exposing himself to the world.”

Then, as Sauda excused herself to use the bathroom, Zariah rushed over to Tahir, springing herself into his sturdy lap with her hair flashing into his tired face.

“So, have you told her?” Zariah asked. “Does she know about us, yet?”

“Bitch, you are the devil!” Tahir growled. “No wonder there’s a place called hell. It’s for people like you!”

“Easy, now.” Zariah grinned, stroking her nylon-covered soles across his leg. “You’ll be there someday, too, after I tell Sauda that she’s a part of our special family, now. What do you think?”

“FUCK you!” Tahir shoved her off of him. “I am warning you right now, if you ruin this for me, I am gonna fuckin’ kill you. You hear me?”

“Sure, you will,” Zariah winked, taking a sip from her glass. “Sure, sure, sure.”

Before Zariah could tease or make another snide remark, Tahir grabbed his ex-mistress by the blouse and pulled her in close to him.

“Try me!” He dared. “If you say anything to my fiancé about us…you’re going to be sorry!”

“Fuck you, Tahir!” She yelled back beneath her breathe, pulling herself away from his death grip and menacing scowl. “You broke my heart, now I am going to break yours! As soon as I tell Sauda that you gave her this virus she’s going to hate you for the rest of your life!”

“Bitch, you don’t have no virus!” He bucked from his chair. “Stop saying that!”

“Yes, I do, and I can prove it!” Zariah leaned over from her chair, kissing Tahir’s face.

“I can’t do this!” Tahir skipped from his chair as he made his way toward the door. “Tell Sauda I’ll call her later.”

“Yeah! Go ahead! Run…run you little bitch!” Zariah chased her adversary to the door, fussing at the back of his head. “Run, like the little coward that you are!”

Tahir had never once thought about killing someone before that day until Zariah showed up unexpectedly at Sauda’s place to “congratulate” Sauda on her engagement. By corresponding and subsequently sleeping with Zariah, he had placed himself in a tight spot. She had all the evidence she needed to convict him of his crimes as soon as she was ready. Between texts, private Facebook messages and dozens of work emails, Zariah could press the button on their relationship anytime she felt like it. As the harassment continued, Tahir succumbed to the notion that if he did not reveal to Sauda the truth about his infidelities, Zariah would. He preferred Sauda hear of his falsities from him than by Zariah or any other means.

The day before he set out to reveal the truth to Sauda, he sent an email to Zariah’s phone to call away the dogs.

“You won,” Tahir texted her between solemn pause. “I am going to meet up with Sauda tomorrow and break the news about everything. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Good!” She replied back instantly. “Be sure to tell her how much of a bastard you are!”

“I will,” Tahir responded, “and don’t forget what we talked about at Sauda’s…”

“Refresh my memory…”

“Don’t play games Zariah. I’ll break you in half!”

“You mean like old times?” She teased. “I am touching myself, keep it up!”

On a Thursday after work, Tahir picked up Sauda from her residence and drove her over to a lake and walking trail not far from Sauda’s home. A mile into their walk, holding hands and as Sauda happily chattered on about arrangements for their upcoming wedding, Tahir broke the news to her about his extracurricular activities.

Sauda could barely stand on her feet, the agony of Tahir’s disloyalty. She wanted to slap the daylights out of him but couldn’t; she was so weak. Instead, she sat on the grass at the same lake the two once posed beneath a glowing orange sun as Tahir took a seat next to her. Broken and unresponsive by her partner’s confession, Sauda stared ahead at the lake in front of her, littered with questions. Tahir had not yet mentioned that the culprit of his cheating was with her best friend, Zariah, and that she could possibly be infected by the human immunodeficiency virus known as HIV. Seeing his woman stumble onto her knees, Tahir thought against telling her.

“Why?” Sauda asked. “Was I not woman enough for you?”

“My love,” Tahir gestured, “please, you are all the woman in this world a man could want.”

“Don’t call me that!” She sniffled. “My heart cannot take it!”

“I was in a dark place at that time. I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Who was it? I would like to know, now. Tell me…”

“I cannot.”

“What do you mean you cannot? Who is this woman?”


“Who is she?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Who-is-the-woman, Tahir?” Sauda demanded. “I’ll strangle her until she’s blue in the face! Is it someone I know? Someone from the party last year? Co-worker? Tell me, damn it!”

“Sauda, no, I cannot. I am sorry.”

“Sorry?” She asked. “You’re right. You are sorry. Please, take me home. Right now, I can’t stand to look at your dirty face.”

Shortly after his confession, Sauda handed her engagement ring back to Tahir, ending their plans for a wedding. Tahir pocketed the ring, offering Sauda his hand to help her up the grassy knoll where they sat but she refused. Instead, Sauda helped herself onto her feet, opened her own car door and sat speechless on the way back to her home. As Tahir dropped Sauda off in front of her place, she departed without a goodbye, leaving him to swim in a sea of his haunted thoughts.

That night, Tahir laid alone inside of his bedroom with Sauda on his mind. He cried, ashamed of himself for allying with Zariah. How could he be so stupid, he thought, to believe Zariah and all her lies? She had ruined him, as promised and humiliated Tahir every chance she could get – blackmailing him with success – just as he once feared she would if things had ever gone south. He hated himself for succumbing to Zariah’s rabid flesh, Tahir and notified her of his failed engagement to Sauda.

“I did it,” Tahir texted from his work phone, “it’s over… are you happy now?”

Waiting over an hour for a response, Zariah finally replied.

“I know. She’s over here now. Can’t get rid of the poor girl! There’s still more to tell!”

“No! Please, Zariah! Let it be. Sauda’s been through enough.”

“Not yet, she hasn’t. This will really kill her, don’t you think?”

“I’m on the way over, she should hear it from me.”

“You can’t come here! You’re not supposed to know where I live, silly! Remember?”

“What does it matter? I’ve already lost her…or have you been bluffing this entire time?”

“No, Sauda’s pissed. I’ve never seen her like this...”

“I can’t take this shit anymore. I’m on the way! This has to stop.”

“Nooooo!” Zariah responded. “Let me. You’re a man, you think with your penis and not your heart! Let me work her over for a little while, first.”

“Fuck you, Zariah. You’re not going to win this time.”

“Wait, let me call you when she leaves from here…”

“Already in the car…”

“No! What are you doing? Don’t come here!”

More than a half-hour later, Tahir responds to Zariah’s last text.

“Walking to the door.”

Later that night, unsure of how to reveal his secret to Sauda, Tahir hesitated before knocking at Zariah’s apartment door, sheepishly, as if not to alert Sauda that he was on the other side. Zariah answered immediately, slipping between the door crack wearing a t-shirt, shorts and her hair knotted into a ponytail beneath a silk wrap.

Looking down at her petite and plumped frame, it was easy to see just how Tahir had fallen for her. Barefaced, Zariah was prettier without a touch of makeup, a tease to him -- exactly how he had got himself into trouble in the first place – but not on this night. She was ugly as a goat to him with the horns of Satan. The fingers on Tahir’s hands curled into a tight fist as he contemplated tossing Zariah through the paned glass across from her apartment door.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Zariah yelled with a whisper. “I told you not to come!”

“Where’s Sauda?” Tahir asked.

“She’s in the backroom lying down. She didn’t want to be alone tonight, alright?”

“Let me in, Zariah. I want to talk to her, right now. I am not doing this anymore.”

“No! You can’t!” Zariah held out her arms. “Please, just go before she wakes up!”

“What do you care? Look, let me in! I am tired of you threatening me with this bullshit. I’m going to tell her the truth. It’s the least I can do at this point.”

Sliding across the tile in her cozy socks, Zariah blocked Tahir from entering her apartment.

“Alright, Goddamn it! Enough! I’m not going to tell Sauda anything. I only said I would so that you would keep sleeping with me but obviously that didn’t work. And keep your fucking voice down before she hears us!”

“Ohhhh, so now you care about your friend?” Tahir raised his voice even louder. “Huh? You weren’t saying all this before when you wanted a piece of me. What about the H-I-V? Was that all fake too?”

“Ok!” Zariah swatted at him. “I made that up, too! Alright, I am jealous, Tahir, damn. Is that what you want to hear? Sauda was getting married. Everybody is finding love but me. I was afraid I might lose her, too! You don’t know what that’s like to feel like everybody is making moves in their lives but you. Now, please, will you just go away?”

Tahir looked up and down at Zariah as if she was three feet tall.

“Woman, move out of my way!”

“Nooooo!” Zariah grabbed onto his huge forearm, attempting to yank Tahir backwards. “Stop! Don’t go in there, Tahir, I said Sauda is sleeping. She doesn’t want to talk to you!”

Then, as the door swung open and the bitter feud between Tahir and Zariah continued, their atrocious quarrel was interrupted by the sight of Sauda, standing on the other side of her best friend’s apartment door with a butcher knife clasped inside of her hand. Abreast of their betrayal, the audacity of their flagrant and sheer deceit washed over her. In an instant, she had become a woman scorned; burned by both her lover and best friend.

Fire fell from her eyes, pain as well as confusion speared her tired heart. Once upon a time in her forsaken life, she felt lost without the wherewithal of a loving father. Through Tahir, Sauda presumed, she had found within him a man that loved her despite her flaws. Tahir, would be nothing like her adulterous father who abandoned her before she would have the opportunity to formally introduce herself.

And then there was Zariah, her best friend; sister. Sauda had first met Zariah as a child. Together, they broke bread, combining their crumbs with one another in a world known for its cruelty to women (especially women of color). When Zariah was nineteen and in desperate need of a car and turned to dancing in a shithole nightclub, it was Sauda who convinced her mother to loan Zariah the $3500 needed to go toward her first down payment. Zariah’s first car, a used 2004 Nissan Maxima, has long been repossessed as Sauda’s mother’s credit tanked when Zariah defaulted on the payments. Before her untimely death, Sauda’s mother warned her daughter of Zariah’s egregious personality. Trusting her best friend over the advice of her terminally ill mother, Sauda would live to regret not heeding her mother’s wisdom. Her mother is now gone and Sauda, once again, is alone.

The knife pulsated in Sauda’s hand to the rhythm of her heartbeat. The sweet, compassionate and gentle soul she was known for had left the building. With her hair pulled into a loose pigtail, she glowered into her adversaries with a malevolent pout. Her world had been taken from her by the two traitors standing before her. In Sauda’s perverse mind, for that, they deserved to be put to death.

“My sister?” Sauda’s voice chimed innocently as her palm tightened around the wooden handle of the piercing blade. “Are you kidding me right now? HIV?”

“Sauda!” Zariah panicked, holding up her hands in surrendering fashion as she backed herself against her apartment wall. “Wait a second…put the knife down. Let’s us explain everything.”

“Please, Sauda…” Tahir seconded, “not like this. Nobody needs to die, now, come on.”

“I’ve already weighed my options,” Sauda told him as she began to pace slowly across the living room floor toward Zariah. “This bitch is going to die!”

Blazing at full speed with the knife extended, Sauda charged at Zariah with malicious intent as her best friend shrieked in fear like an injured pig. Moving in swiftly, Tahir tackled his ex-lover, pinning her onto the floor before yelling to Zariah to call the police. As Zariah attempted to rush past the cluster on her living room floor, Sauda extended her lower leg, causing her former friend to stumble onto all fours.

“Get off me!” Sauda screamed through her teeth, ramming the sharp tip of her knife into Tahir’s ear canal. With the overwhelming pain forcing him to nurture his severed ear, Sauda shoved her ex-lover from atop her, rushed onto her feet and continued her pursuit of Zariah who headed for the cordless telephone inside of her bedroom.

As Zariah rounded the corner, she darted into the master bedroom and with all her strength attempted to block Sauda from entering. Her tiny frame, however, proved to be no match for Sauda’s rage. Through a small crack in the bedroom door, Sauda began shoving the pointed edge of her knife through the door’s slit, forcing Zariah to dance away in terror from the eleven-inch blade.

“Sauda, stop!” Zariah cried in guilt-ridden fear “Please, stop!”

Her cries fell on deaf ears as the blade of Sauda’s knife continued to slip between the door jamb as Zariah struggled to close her bedroom door. As Zariah whined for a reprieve, Sauda dropped to her knees and began shoving the blade toward Zariah’s lower extremities. After several misses, Sauda finally connected with a poke into her ex-friend’s patella (knee cap), causing her prey to stumble away from the door.

“Ow!” Zariah hollered in pain, releasing her position from behind the bedroom door. “You’re hurting me, Sauda! Stop! Please! I am begging you!”

With Sauda still on all fours, she spiked the tip of her edged weapon into the top of Zariah’s foot, forcing her to spill backward onto her queen-sized mattress in agonizing pain. It was the same bed that Sauda’s ex-best friend and ex-lover once lay. On the bed, Sauda planned to penetrate her best friend with the jagged slant of the kitchen knife. Fighting frantically, Zariah struggled to restrain Sauda who began ramming the knife into her upper thigh area.

“Help!” Zariah screamed for her life. “Sauda, stop it! Please, I don’t want to die!”

Out in the living room area, although Tahir had managed to gather his bearings, the puncture to his ear canal caused him to fall over as his equilibrium was compromised. As the right side of his head was covered in blood and with no other choice, he crawled across the hall to Zariah’s neighbor and beat on the door.

“Please, help us!” He sat with his back pressed against the door, damn near out of breath. “My fiancé is killing my friend!”

Now, isn’t that some shit? Sauda thought to herself. “Friend?” As if she wasn’t already beside herself in anger, hearing Tahir’s voice pushed her from atop the cliff. Quickly, before someone intervened, she gored Zariah’s calf and climbed off her to lock the door to the master bedroom. Zariah howled in contempt of her superficial wounds.

“Don’t cry now!” Sauda kindly patted Zariah at the bottom of her socked foot.

“Sauda, please!” Zariah cried. Overcome with pain and trauma in the center of her chest, she could barely let out a decent cry. Her voice wheezed between exhausted breaths. “I didn’t want to be alone! I am sorry for what I did. Please, don’t kill me!”

“I thought you were my sister?” Sauda cried. “How could you?”

“I know…” Zariah draped her forearm over her face as she sobbed. “I know…”

“After everything we’ve been through, you’re going to make me do this?” Sauda asked.

“Please…” Zariah moaned. “I am begging you…”

“I am too far gone,” Sauda told her. “I can’t stop now… I just… can’t.”

“Yes, you can!”

“NO, I CAN’T!”

“You can! Just…stop hurting me… You’re hurting me, Sauda.”

“Not the way you hurt me, dear friend.”

Sauda kissed her best friend across the lips in an affectionate gesture and plunged her knife through Zariah’s left breast, rupturing her heart. And with her last ounce of strength, Zariah reached for Sauda, grabbing into her hair as if to thwart the attack as Sauda pumped the stainless-steel blade into her best friend’s torso, repeatedly. The sand in Zariah’s hourglass had run its course as her body seized and she gagged up dark blood.

“I hate you!” Sauda wailed, resting as she admired her work. “Look what you made me do! We were supposed to be sisters, Zariah. Sisters! You were my best friend. I can’t let you get away with what you did to me. I am sorry. I just can’t!”

Then, as police officers rushed passed a beaten Tahir across the hall as he was attended to by medical personnel, they were able to safely make entry into Zariah’s bedroom where the bloody massacre had taken place. As officers forced their way in, Sauda stood frozen (almost trance like) in time as she looked on at Zariah’s lifeless body.

Carefully, officers surrounded Sauda, removing the knife from her hand, (which she freely released) placed her into custody and removed her from the premises. Sauda was covered from head to toe in her friend’s blood. As police led her away, her face was fixed in a blank stare. The only time her eyes moved was to acknowledge Tahir who was still being treated in the hallway by medical personnel.

“I loved you.” Sauda’s lips motioned as Tahir grimaced with shame, shaking his head. He could barely keep his head upright as blood oozed from the large hole on the side of his head.

“I know,” his lips signaled back to her.

Two weeks after Zariah’s ruthless slaying, an army of mourners came out in droves to lay to rest the energetic and promiscuous thirty-three-year-old. Initially, rumors churned amongst Zariah’s family and friends that her death was domestic related as investigators remained tight-lipped about the details pertinent to her case. Then, as information surrounding Zariah’s death became evident, as expected, support for Tahir diminished, leaving him to drown in his infamy and disgust. He would go into hiding for a while, ashamed of his own malicious infidelities until the public shaming and branding associated with his selfishness got the better of him.

As Sauda’s story circulated through social media outlets: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Reddit, Sauda’s brutal action was glorified as “heroic revenge.” Tahir, on the other hand, broke under the duress of trauma and public outcry (calling for his head) until eventually he lost his will to go on with his pathetic life. Months after his tragic love triangle, he mysteriously disappeared, quitting his job and spiking all contact through social media.

Destitute and at her wits end, exhausting every penny she had once saved only to have a decent lawyer to stand on, there was hardly any fight left in Sauda by the conclusion of her trial. At her sentencing a year later, she apologized inside of a crammed courtroom for murdering her best friend. Shortly thereafter, she undid her virtuous feat by later saying in a written speech she had prepared for the court that her only regret was allowing Tahir to walk away with his life.

By then, the presiding judge had had enough, interrupting Sauda’s tearful, half-hearted apology and handed down the maximum sentence allowed for such a case involving a crime of passion; Sauda was sentenced to life without parole.

“I cannot begin to explain how difficult this case has been for me on a personal level,” the judge spoke matter-of-factly into her microphone prior to handing down her penalty, blotting her eyes with tears. “I mean, here is a woman, just like me, a Christian-like, God-fearing woman. She was hoping to find love (like I once was) and she thought she found it in this man until she found out that the two most important people in her life...I get choked up just thinking about it. Yet, at the same time, Sauda, the law is still the law. If you had never grabbed the knife, this would’ve been a much different conversation than the one we’re having today. I am sorry for what’s happen to you and even more sorry to Zariah Wright’s family for this senseless and brutal crime. Forgive me, court.”

Standing there in her navy-blue prison attire, makeup less, donning a pair of cheap reading glasses and with her hair pulled back into a wild bun, Sauda’s lips curled over into a dreadful cry as she wailed onto her forearm at her lifetime sentence. As the packed courtroom gasped, some cried, and some showed little to no emotion toward Sauda as her knees crumbled. Seconds later, two burly sheriff’s deputies removed Sauda along with her cracked spirit from the courtroom and down through a narrow hallway where her earsplitting screams were still heard. Her life was over. Months after her conviction, Sauda’s outward supporters continued to pour into her with letters of hope and well wishes. For that, she was grateful. It was also through her letters that she later learned that Tahir, in his culpable exile, sick from the hounding pressure of harassment, had taken his own life.

Sauda didn’t care to know the gruesome details of Tahir’s death, however and gently folded the note before placing it beneath her mattress. That evening, she set aside her plethora of letters (promising to finish the rest of them the following morning) and began penning about a gruesome entry inside of her prison diary she entitled, Thirsty. <end>


To my beautiful wife. Thank you for believing in me throughout this entire journey. Our love for one another keeps us bonded. It was the spirit that drew me to you and continues to keep me grounded and humble.

To my mother, for instilling the importance of education in me at an early age and for never giving up on me.

Last but not least, thank you to all of my fans and supporters for continuing to download my works and helping me strive to be better.

Get to know the author

Born in Washington, D.C., Nathaniel began journaling early throughout his teenage years before discovering his passion for writing. Thus far, Nathaniel has self-published several titles under both the non-fiction and creative-fiction genres.

His most accomplished story, Stroke of Luck, is a tear-jerking account about his wife's battle to overcome a cryptogenic ischemic stroke. The book was widely praised and went viral, eventually earning the newlywed couple a segment on WJLAs Good Morning Washington, News Channel 8. Since the exposure, Nathaniel and his wife, together, volunteer their free time to speak publicly about their story, hoping to raise awareness of the onset of stroke in young adults.

Other eBooks by Nathaniel Christian IV

Engaged and soon to wed, author Nathaniel Christian IV narrates his fiancé’s struggle to regain her quality of life after suffering a brain-stem stroke just six months before their big day.

Stroke of Luck (Nonfiction)

The young lives of two best friends are forever changed when money comes between them in this urban drama taking place on the streets of Southern California in 1990.

Little Brother (Urban fiction)

The author confronts the subject of violence against police officers in this rigorous tale involving the unsolved murder of Police Officer Damien Howell.

The Colors of Howell (Fiction)

A 30's something, dark-haired, phenom commands readers attention as she describes her journey to an earth shattering "O" in this exciting erotica fantasy by author Nathaniel Christian IV

P#ssy, Prose & Satin (Adult literature)

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Thank you for reading Thirsty. I hope you enjoyed reading this eBook as much as I enjoyed taking the time to write it. Now is an excellent time to join my free newsletter for the chance to cash in on giveaways or other promotional opportunities in the near future. Don’t miss out! Thank you for your support!

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