by Untamed
I pulled my Dolce & Gabbana shades on top of my head and leaned forward. Although what he proposed was enticing, could I really do it? Could I leave Pooch, run away with Terrence, and let go of the fears that he called me out on? I wanted to, and more than anything, I needed to. Terrence leaned forward, staring at me as if he were waiting for me to grant him permission to breathe.
“Terrence, I—” I began. Suddenly, to our surprise, I was snatched up by my arm.
“What the fuck?” Terrence yelled, jumping up to see the culprit.
“What the fuck are you doing here with him?” Pooch yelled.
Stunned, I couldn’t answer him. It was only one o’clock in the afternoon. This nigga said he’d be home around six. What the hell? How did he find me?
“Get your hands off her!” Terrence yelled as he pulled me out of Pooch’s grasp and protectively stood in front of me. “Who the fuck do you think you are, grabbing on her like that?” Terrence asked, boldly getting up in Pooch’s face.
Oh God! I was terrified! They stood toe to fucking toe as if this were one of those highly anticipated fights, like the Mayweather and Pacquiao bout. Barely an inch separated them, and both had hatred in their eyes. A mixture of adrenaline and anger coursed through their veins so that their muscles bulged out of control. With their jaws locked tight, the only thing the other one was waiting for was for someone to make a move. I looked at the parking lot, and Pooch’s still-running SUV was parked directly behind my Mercedes with the driver’s side door wide open. From the passenger side, Big Cal watched.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay the fuck away from my girl?” Pooch asked, staring intensely at Terrence.
“Since when do I ever listen to you? We have children. We’re enjoying time with our kids. Regardless of how you feel or what you think, she’s bound to me for life. Not by one but two of my seeds!”
Pooch let out a sinister laugh. He stepped back an inch and clapped his hands together. His nose flared. “And them kids is the only reason you still breathing, bitch. I suggest if you want to continue making them happy, you stay away from her.”
Terrence sucked his teeth slowly and deliberately and cut his eyes at Pooch. “Nigga, please. If you wanna do something, let’s get to it. I don’t give a fuck about that shit you talkin’ right now.”
“Oh yeah?” Pooch said real cocky-like.
“Oh yeah.” Terrence nodded.
Deathly afraid of the situation, I forced myself between them. “Pooch, listen, please. He just mad right now. He don’t mean it.”
“Fall back, li’l mama,” Terrence said, trying to pull me back but never taking his gaze off Pooch.
Pulling my arm away, I forced Pooch to look into my eyes by grabbing his chin and pulling his face down so that we locked eyes. “Please, Pooch. For me.” I turned to face Terrence. “Let it go. You’ve got the kids to think about, please,” I pleaded as sweat and tears rolled down my face.
Reluctantly, they both eased up and fell back.
“Get my daughter, and get your ass in my truck, right now,” Pooch peered at me and demanded, pointing his finger in my face.
“Trinity—” Terrence began.
I put my hand up. “Don’t. Just take Brit and Terry, please.”
He nodded as I scooped up Princess and hightailed it to Pooch’s truck. “Final warning, muthafucka,” I heard Pooch issue to Terrence, and by the time I locked Princess in the car seat, Pooch was at the truck.
“Big Cal, get out and drive her Mercedes. Give him the fuckin’ keys, Trinity,” he demanded, and I obeyed.
I was about to get in the passenger side when Pooch yanked me by the arm, dragged me to the back, and pushed me in the seat next to Princess! “Get your fuckin’ triflin’ ass back there with the baby,” he said, seething.
“Pooch—”
“Shut up,” he screamed, causing me to jump and Princess to cry.
He slammed the door and jumped into the driver’s seat, and we pulled off with a screech. Except for a phone call Pooch made, which was to ask his sister if she was home, we rode in silence all the way to the house. He didn’t say shit to me, not a word. I refused to make eye contact through the rearview mirror, so I sat there with my head down.
“Get out of the car,” Pooch sneered once we got home. He turned to Big Cal and threw him his keys.
“Princess is still in the car,” I said to him.
He ignored me. “Take Princess to my sister’s house and chill out until I call you,” Pooch commanded Big Cal, who looked at me with sorrowful eyes, got in the SUV, and dipped with my baby.
Now I was officially scared shitless. Pooch unlocked the door, grabbed my arm, pulled me all the way to his office in the king suite, and threw me down on the sofa. Perched on the edge of his desk, he calmly pulled out a Cuban cigar, clipped the end, lit it, and pulled a drag from it. He folded his arms and eyed me suspiciously before he pulled another drag. I didn’t know what to do, so I sat there just staring at him in fear.
He put the cigar between his index and middle finger and pointed it at me. “Do you know how many bitches would love to be in your shoes? Hmm? Do you?”
I only nodded.
“Do you know how good I am to you, Trinity?” he asked, puffing on his cigar.
“Yes,” I said weakly.
He laughed evilly. “I don’t think you do, so let me break it down for you. I may not be sentimental and shit, but I’m loyal. I give you everything your heart wants and desires. I’ve treated you well. Right?” he asked tensely, but I didn’t answer. “Right?” he exclaimed, looking at me with an intense expression on his face.
I nodded.
“So when I say something, I expect it to be followed. I told you to stay away from him. Now I come back in town early to surprise my lady, but I get a phone call from one of my dudes that you two are up at the park, looking mighty fuckin’ cozy, having a nice li’l family picnic together. This cat knows you and Terrence, but I still don’t fuckin’ believe this shit, because you would never do some shit like that behind my back. Never.
“But as sure as the sun is shining this afternoon, I roll up to see your car and his, and I look over and see this nigga rapping in yo’ ear like y’all a fuckin’ couple and shit,” he said with another sinister laugh. “This shit is so funny to me because a couple of weeks ago, some chickenhead broad told me she saw you in the Compound grindin’ like a muthafucka on Terrence, and I thought the silly ho was lying on you just to get next to me. I didn’t even confront yo’ ass wit’ it, because that’s how much confidence I had in you,” he said, pointing his finger at me.
My nerves went from being frazzled to straight shot! I started trembling, and I swore I was going to pass out. Here I was guilty as fuck of everything I’d been accused of, and I had no idea where this little interrogation session was going. It would be different if he’d yell at me and get it over with, but this shit? This shit was cryptic.
He pulled once more on his cigar before putting it in the ashtray and walking over to me. He looked at me sideways, then slowly paced back and forth in front of me. He stopped directly in front of me and gripped my chin so that I was looking directly into his eyes.
“With all this information, I’m going to ask you this, Trinity, and I’m going to ask you this . . . one . . . time,” he growled. His eyes burned with anger, and his jaw was so tight it bulged out on both sides. “Are you fuckin’ wit’ that nigga Terrence on me? Hmm?”
I shook my head. “No, Pooch, I . . . I would never—” I stuttered nervously.
Before I could finish, my face was met with a backhand slap. Instantly, I grabbed my face because it felt as if it split in half. Tears of fear and pain poured from my eyes.
He grabbed me by my face, squeezed it, and bent down so we were nose to nose. “Don’t. You. Lie. To. Me! Don’t you ever fuckin’ lie to me,” he screamed, holding my face.
“Pooch, please,” I begged in a whisper, my voice stolen by fear.
“We gonna try this sh
it again,” he said. I tried to pry his hand free, but it was firmly affixed to my face. Every vein in his neck and arms bulged. If I didn’t know better, I would swear he was geeked up. But no drugs were needed. His rage was pure, and the inferno burned from a betrayal felt deep within. “Was you up in the Compound dancing wit’ that nigga? Are you fuckin’ wit that nigga, huh, Trinity? Huh?”
Figuring it was better to tell a partial truth, I nodded. “I dance . . . I danced with him, but that’s it,” I stuttered. I also figured it was best to admit to the less-offensive crime.
He let me go, started rubbing his head with both hands, and paced back and forth with hard footsteps again. I didn’t know what to say or do. My face felt like it was virtually on fire, and I felt the swelling increasing under my eye. This nigga literally was flipping the fuck out! I was ready to bolt for the door when he started hitting himself on the forehead and talking to himself.
“I’m a good nigga. I try to be. Them niggas be saying don’t put all yo’ trust in no broad. That’s what they be tellin’ me, and I be like nah, not my babe. Not my Trinity. Shit. Not my Trinity. She’s loyal. This is my ride or die bitch here. I shoulda known something was going on. She getting all jazzy more and more. Coppin’ an attitude wit’ me when she normally wouldn’t. Even the sex, it’s been good, but something just was never quite right about it to me. She don’t have the same emotion as before,” he said to himself while continuing his antics.
“Pooch,” I said barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, baby. I am.”
It was as if my words brought him to the realization that I was still in the room with him. Suddenly, he turned and looked at me. Disbelief and malice danced in his eyes, and in that split second, I knew that malice had won. “Sorry,” he huffed. He turned his back to me and popped his neck to one side. “Oh, you’re gonna be sorry,” he said angrily.
Before I could react, he was on me so fast and had slapped my other cheek with his open palm and sent me falling across the sofa. “Please, Pooch, stop!” I screamed.
He snatched me up by the throat and pressed his forehead deep into mine. He was so enraged, spit flew out of his mouth. “The next muthafuckin’ time I catch you wit’ that nigga, I will kill you! Do you fuckin’ hear me, li’l mama? That is what he calls you, right? Li’l mama?”
Gagging and coughing, I replied, “Yes.”
He let go of my throat and punched me in the mouth. “You gon’ learn to respect me!”
The snot, tears, and sweat that were already rolling down my face mixed with the blood that now trickled down the side of my mouth. I held my bleeding mouth as panic settled in. I tried to move away from him, but he grabbed me by the hem of my dress and snatched me back, his hand finding its way around my throat again. My neck felt hot, and the pressure from his hands felt as if it was crushing me.
“Is this my pussy?” he asked. I nodded since I couldn’t speak from his hands being wrapped around my throat. Then he let my throat go. “That’s right, and you gon’ prove it to me,” he said, unbuckling his pants.
I shook my head fearfully and put my hands up. “No, Pooch, please!” I screamed, trying to scoot back out of reach, but it was no use.
He balled up his fist and raised his hand as if he was going to strike me. “Make one more muthafuckin’ move and I will kill you!”
I stopped moving.
His pants dropped to the floor, and he yanked down his boxers and stroked his dick twice, ready to take back what was stolen from him. Still feeling as though I could plead my way out of this, I begged him to stop, but he pulled me by my knees and threw my legs apart. Then he ripped my thong off. Hocking a glob of spit, he launched it on his dick, smeared it, and rammed it into my dry pussy. Although I yelped in pain, he held his hand over my mouth and kept pumping out of control like the madman he was.
“I told you that you gon’ learn to respect me!” he panted huskily as he raped me on the sofa. “Fuckin’ bitch! This is my pussy! Mine!” With a hard jolt, he released inside of me.
Without another word, he stood up and pulled up his shorts. Then he walked in the bathroom to wash off and came back to where I was curled up in the fetal position on the sofa. He walked over to me and knelt down. Though I was fearful, I dared not move, but he only kissed my forehead. “I love you, Trinity,” he said, stroking my face and hair. “I love you . . . to death.”
His declaration shot a cold tingle down my spine as the severity of the last statement took root in my soul. I could do nothing but stare at him as silent tears rolled down my face. My face and body hurt from all of the violation, but worst yet, my soul felt empty on the inside.
As he stroked my face, his voice fell into a soft, soothing tone. “See what you made me do? I never wanted to do you like this. You’re my babe,” he said and kissed my swollen lips. “Now this is what I want you to do. Call Terrence and tell him to keep his kids for a couple of days. Then go to the bathroom, clean yourself up, draw a nice, warm bath, and soak. I’ll come in, dry you off, and put you to bed so you can rest. It’s been a long day for you, but I had to teach you a lesson. I think you get it now. I hope so. I love you, and from now on, you’re going to do what?” he asked as if he were speaking to a child.
“Remember that shit,” I answered hoarsely.
He smiled. “Good. I have to go call Big Cal and have him bring Princess home. I’ll watch the baby for you while you get yourself together.” And with that, he walked out.
After a few minutes, I sat up and limped across the room to get my cell phone. My hands were trembling as I pressed number one on my phone.
“Trinity!” Terrence yelled. “Is everything okay? Are you all right?”
“Terrence,” I said, trying to speak clearly.
“What’s wrong? What did he do to you?” he asked frantically.
“Nothing,” I whispered. “Keep the kids a couple of days. I’ll call you when you can bring them over. I have to go now.”
“No! Hell no! Did he put his fucking hands on you? I’ll kill his ass! I put that on my muthafucking life,” he screamed into the phone.
“Please,” I whispered weakly. “Let it go. Just take care of Brit and Terry. Tell them I love them and I’ll see them in a couple of days. Please,” I begged.
“Baby—” he said, now sad and frustrated.
“I have to go,” I cut him off. I hung up and turned off my cell phone. I walked to the door and swung it open to find Pooch standing there.
“Good job,” he said as he walked past me back into his office.
I turned to look at him as he sat behind his desk and finished his cigar. Realizing that I was dismissed from his presence, I slowly turned to leave his king’s suite.
“‘I’m easy like Sunday morning.’” I whimpered Lionel Ritchie’s song as I limped down the hall.
No matter how much I loved Terrence, I couldn’t be with him. Pooch had proven how lethal he could be, and he warned he’d be worse if I violated his trust again. I wasn’t going to because I had to live for my kids. But one thing was for certain, I hated Pooch. I hated him with all my heart.
Chapter Four
LaMeka
I still can’t believe I nearly died. My mind replayed the events after Tony tried to choke the life out of me that night. I was rushed from the shelter to the hospital, where I was treated and held for two days. Pastor Gaines stayed by my side the entire time. He even got in contact with my mom, and surprisingly she came. That was the most I could ever remember her being concerned about me. She said that Misha had confessed the entire story to her about what happened, and she wanted to make sure I was okay. I almost busted Misha out about Joe, but it wasn’t the time for that shit. Besides, regardless of what Misha did to me, Joe was still a bastard of a man to fuck with a baby. Furthermore, he was even lower to sleep with his girlfriend’s daughter. So instead, I listened to my mom and remained happy that she was even around, because God knows I needed someone to be.
I couldn’t bear the thought of my frien
ds knowing where I was, so I didn’t bother to tell any of them, and I asked my mom not to tell either. However, to ensure I kept my job, Pastor Gaines did stop by the day care, and they completely understood my situation.
For the first time in my life, I broke down and told my mom and Pastor Gaines all the hell I’d been going through with Tony. Much to my surprise, my mom was extremely supportive and offered to be there for me. I was shocked to hear that my mom had put Joe out for good. She actually admitted with Misha being away, she had a lot of time to reflect on the hell she’d put us through growing up. She confessed it was the same way her mom treated her, and even though she vowed not to do the same, somewhere along the way, that’s just what she had done. She vowed to be a better mother starting with kicking Joe out and helping me in any way possible. She’d offered to let me move in, but I needed to take it one step at a time. I didn’t trust her, Misha, or Tony. Hell, the shit they took me through was enough to make me not trust my own damn self.
However, Pastor Gaines was truly a blessing to me. Once I was released from the hospital, I stayed at the shelter for a couple of days before he was able to get me into a transitional house. Due to Tony Jr.’s autism, I was informed that I’d be able to stay there for one year rent free. Ain’t God good? I even met with the counselors from the shelter to get therapy for my ordeal. At first I was nervous, but Pastor Gaines was there to help me.
“Pastor Gaines!” I said, opening the door and motioning for him to come inside. “Come in. What brings you by?”
“Hello, LaMeka. I was just checking on you to see how you’ve settled in and to see if you were going to the counseling group meeting,” he quizzed me.
“Well, everything is coming along here at the house. I’m so appreciative of everyone at the shelter and at the church who has donated clothing and furniture for us. It has truly been a blessing for my sons and me. I saw Mr. Smith the other day, and I thanked him for fixing my driver’s side window,” I told him.
“Good. I’m glad everything is coming along for you, but you still haven’t told me whether you’re going to the group session.”
