He stops inches away from his father and relaxes his fist, resting it at his side. Roman had better count his lucky stars that that punch didn’t connect.
“Mother, get your things. You’re leaving with us,” Ben orders, not taking his eyes of his crouching father.
Roman no longer looks like the powerful real estate tycoon who exudes control and command. He is a coward who made a foolish mistake. A weakling, brought down to size by the enraged mammoth of a man that towers over him that he calls son. Roman is no longer a titan. In this moment, he is a mere man.
Diana stalks away and Ben and Matt follow her. Roman falls to the floor in tears and I simply feel sorry for him.
I can’t look at the pictures Matt scattered on the table. I am too busy gathering my wits that had been scattered in the furor.
Walking over to Roman, I help him up from the ground. I can’t resist saying something to him.
“You brought this on yourself, you know?” I express, lowering him to a chair.
“I know. You warned me,” he agrees.
“I thought you sorted everything out. I thought you would’ve stopped seeing her,” I say.
“I did. I did. I told her that we had to stop seeing each other, but she said she wasn’t going down without a fight. I thought she meant that she would still fight for me and I couldn’t see why she possibly would. She’s got a boyfriend where she lives.” Roman shakes his head, swiping the tears away from his face.
“Never did I expect her to do this,” he explains in despair.
“Well, I…”
“You…knew about this?” Ben walks in on us and I nearly expire.
“Ben,” I say softly, too frightened to say anything else.
“You knew about the affair and you didn’t say anything?” he growls angrily at me and I quail with fear.
“Ben, let me explain,” I beg. I reach out to him and he steps back. “Ben,” I whisper, hurt.
“You deceitful…” Ben closes his eyes to choke back his anger. “How could you do this to my family, Sullivan?”
“Ben I wanted to tell you. I tried…”
“You didn’t try hard enough,” Ben refutes through gritted teeth.
Ben turns away from me and it’s like a door closing on my heart.
I fall to the ground, clutching his ankles, crying, begging, “Please, Ben. Don’t leave me.”
I don’t look up at him, but I feel his glare. He shakes from my hold and strides into the next room.
“We’re leaving,” I hear him say in the foyer.
“Isn’t Sullivan coming with us?” Diana asks confused, tears evident in her voice.
“I’ll explain in the car,” Ben relays.
“No! You will explain right this instant!” Diana demands in a loud voice, her voice quavering with emotion.
“Sullivan knew about the affair,” Ben answers her grimly.
I hear Diana’s surprised gasp and my heart twists in my chest.
“Let’s go, Mother,” Ben insists softer now. I hear Diana’s choked sobs and my own heart breaks. What have I done?
The door opens then shuts a moment later. I bury my face into the soft, white carpet and I weep uncontrollably, bitterly. So this is what it feels like to be broken up with? Now I know how my other exes must feel. I guess this is how Paul felt when I broke up with him.
Roman surrounds me, trying to soothe me, but to no avail. I’ve lost him. I messed up, and because of it, I’ve lost the one man that meant anything to me in a long while. I feel like I am in a nightmare and I pinch myself hard so I can wake up. The physical pain I feel from it only makes me cry more.
Roman helps me to his car as I am too weak to walk by myself. He insisted on taking me home after everything that had happened, saying that it was the least he could do.
Roman and I drive to my apartment in silence, with the exception of my almost silent cries. He pulls up to my building and stops me before I can get out.
“I’m sorry, Sullivan. I never meant for things to go down the way they did. God, if I had known it would’ve broken you two up…” he says rubbing violently at his forehead.
He sighs then says, “If I could turn back time I wouldn’t have let things get so far with that woman. Nothing pained me more than seeing the hurt I caused Diana and the pain in Ben’s eyes; to know I caused you, an innocent, hurt.”
His statement sheds a different light on how he feels about his son. He loves Ben. Might have a funny, even aloof, way of showing it, but he loves him. This warms my otherwise gloomy heart, though sadness is still present.
I’ve lost Ben.
Tears rush down my face in the dark car and I swat at them violently.
“Please don’t cry, angel,” Roman begs, squeezing my knee.
But I can’t help it. The well breaks inside me and all my sadness pour out as he embraces me. I’ve lost Ben.
I was thankful that Rachel was locked off with Ryan when I got in. My legs felt weak as I trudged to my room. I needed the reprieve from people for a while.
As I lay in bed, I curl around one of my pillows to try to garner as much comfort as I can. I miss him.
I don’t know what possesses me, but I draw for my BlackBerry and type a text to Ben.
Please forgive me, Ben. I’m sorry. P.S. I’m home.
I didn’t expect him to text back and upon reading his message, I wish he didn’t.
I don’t give a fuck.
His response hurts me deeply. If he didn’t respond it meant that he was still too raw to talk and with a good night’s rest he might turn around. A text would mean even greater hope of a turn around, if it were a nicer one. This message, though, communicates just as it said: he doesn’t give a fuck.
Burying my face into my pillow, I scream, tears drowning it. An agonized groan escapes my lips and all I feel like doing is jumping off the roof. Death comes bidden in my mind as anything would be better than this. Anything.
CHAPTER 24
After two and a half hours of sleep, my eyes burst painfully open at 6a.m. My eyes are too swollen and my head is on fire and in too much pain. I feel like I was hit by a bus, which would be a welcomed occurrence right now as the pain of losing Ben still lingers.
I sit up in bed for another half an hour clutching my pillow to me, and although I don’t make a sound, tears course down my face like waterfalls.
Without conscious effort, I replay the events of last night in my head. A knot grips my chest and I let out a groaning shudder. I’ve lost Ben.
Strolling in, Rachel sing-songs, “Wakey, wakey. Eggs and bake…” She halts and gasps when she sees my face. “Lilah, what’s wrong?” She rushes over to me and mashes me to her. Once again the dam breaks and I fall apart in her embrace.
Through gasps and tears, I tell her what happened. I cry even harder when she starts crying with me.
“Oh, honey,” she whispers as she wipes her face. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I thought…”
“There’s…nothing…to…say,” I say between heaving breaths. “We’re…done.” Truth be told, I sound like a blubbering idiot.
“Lilah, I’m here for you, okay?” Rachel rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder and stares lovingly and concernedly at me. “I’ll go make you some French Vanilla coffee and get that fluffy robe.”
I don’t know if French Vanilla coffee and a fluffy robe is gonna to work this time. As a matter of fact, I’m sure it won’t work, but, I nod anyway. It’s worth a try.
Rachel heads for the door then stops staring back at me. “You’ll get through this, Delilah. You’re a fighter.” She leaves and I am once again left with my thoughts.
I am in no shape to go to class, much less to leave the house. I text Lizzie, telling her that I am feeling out of sorts and would be missing classes today. She responds by saying:
I’ve got u sweetie.
I send a similar message to Janelle and she sends a similar reply:
I got you, ma.
I
sigh, a painful ache forming in my chest. This is Day one without Ben and it feels like the end of my life.
Day two is the same. I stay in my dark room crying. I don’t eat…can’t eat. My lips are chapped and my hair is mucky. I look ghastly and smell like hot garbage.
Rachel gets home and runs me a bath. She bathes me while I cry, cooing to me that it’s going to be okay. After she washes and combs my hair, she dries me, dresses me and makes me sit up in bed. I feel like a baby again as she feeds me chicken soup and then rocks me to sleep.
Day two…just as bad as Day one.
Day Three saw no change. I woke up from a horrible nightmare in the wee hours of the morning. In the dream, two men were standing over me, thrust in dark shadows, grabbing at me, one more familiar than the other. Then, a door was kicked open but I couldn’t see who came in. Bright light enveloped me and I heard gunshots, which jolted me awake. Confused, I’d started crying again until I fell asleep.
I spent the rest of the day like I did on Day two. Day three…depressed mode.
Day four had me puking my guts out. I answered no calls but Rachel’s. I answered none of the knocks from Mrs. Wade; neither had Rachel let her in when she asked to come in to check on me because she hadn’t seen me in so long.
Not even my Come on get happy playlist could dissolve my sadness. I was in an abyss, a chasm of sadness, and it would take a miracle to get me out.
Ben hadn’t even tried to contact me. Simone had sent me a text on Tuesday saying “the tyrant is back” and I cried because I was responsible for that. I couldn’t even tell her that we broke up. I told her some lie that Fields was riding his ass and she no more than believed my fabrication. She hadn’t texted me back since then. Simone is a great friend, but he was her boss. I couldn’t risk her getting fired, and in the same breath, I wondered how he hadn’t fired her yet.
Day four…sucked ass!
I wake up on Day five feeling rested. It’s after 10 and Rae has already gone to work. The sound of my stomach rumbling signals that I have gotten my appetite back.
Reaching for my phone, I check to see if I have any missed calls and sure enough, there are a few from Rachel. I decide to call her back.
“Hey, Rae,” I greet her, my voice now smoother than it had been the past five days.
“Get your butt out of bed,” she orders with no preamble.
“I’m up, I’m up.”
“We’re doing lunch. So get your shit together.”
“Rae,” I start to protest.
“I said, get your shit together, we’re going for lunch. I don’t care if you come out looking like a fucking hobo, we’re doing lunch,” she insists. “I hate to fucking see you slumped up in that apartment, Lilah. You’re driving yourself crazy and I don’t want to see you go down that road again.”
I sigh. I know the road she’s speaking of and she is right. It does no good for me to slouch around, but I don’t know if I am ready to see the outside world yet.
“Rae,” I start to protest again.
“I swear to fucking God, Lilah. I will kick your ass if you don’t shower, throw on something nice and get out of that fucking house to have lunch with me!” Rachel promises. “Get ready and I’m not going to call again. Meet me at Joélles.” She hangs up before I can say another word. And even I know Rachel is not to be trifled with.
I get up unwillingly and pad to the bathroom. It is Day five and so far I haven't made any progress. I need to get on with it already. I need to move on, hard as it might be.
Day five…positive strides.
Morty, the daytime doorman holds the door open for me and I smile at him as I exit. I breathe in the cool crisp air of the late morning appreciatively as I haven’t had fresh air for the past five days. Then, stridently, I start walking.
I was eager to get out of the house after I’d gotten out of the shower. I’d been holed up in that apartment ever since Ben and I broke up and it was nothing short of hell.
I missed Ben with every fiber of my being and with every breath I took, the pain of knowing I’d lost him grew harder and harder to bear. It took immense restraint not to cut myself or opt for my usual quick fix of a constant high; anything to dull this emotional anguish I was in.
When you feel this much emotional pain inside, you hurt yourself just so you can feel physical pain, because that much you can handle.
I knew – and Rachel knew – if I didn’t get out of the apartment soon, that I’d eventually jet to old habits to dull my emotional distress. No one wanted to see me strung out again or attempting suicide. Besides, that would ruin any chance – any hope – I had of ever getting back together with Ben. As long as I was alive, there was hope. There was a chance, no matter how small. At least, that’s what I thought as I took that shower.
I was glad Rachel invited me for lunch. Because of the breakup, we hadn’t had much Rae and me time. She’s been taking exceptional care of me. She basically bitch slapped me over the phone and I’m not one to call Rachel’s bluff.
I’m unbelievably early though and somehow I feel like I’ve forgotten someth…money! Crap!
Searching my purse, I turn immediately to go back to the apartment, but my way is blocked by a man in black boots and black jeans. I trail my eyes up the rest of his clothing: black t-shirt, black leather jacket. My eyes stop at his lips and a terrifying chill creeps up my body.
A cunning, predatory smile parts his lips, the same smile he had just before he raped me, just before I shot him.
It’s Rick.
All color evaporates from my body and it goes cold with fear.
“You look even more beautiful up close,” he purrs, a sound that slithers through me causing me to shiver in repulsion. But another thought dawns on me: “up close”? What the fuck?
“Yes, up close,” he says as though I had voiced my concern aloud. Had I? My brain has so checked out, I don’t know if I had spoken or not.
“I’ve been watching you for years now,” he confesses as if people aren’t milling by us.
My eyes all but bug out of my head at his revelation. Years?!
“Yes, my sweet. I’ve been watching for too long, it’s time I step out from the sidelines, or in this case, the dark.” He takes a step toward me and twirls a lock of my hair between his fingers. I’m frozen.
“I have been watching that apartment of yours for the past week, wondering when you’d make an appearance. I almost lost patience waiting on you, but you delivered. And I must say that you look even more beautiful with dark hair. The dirty blonde look was never your natural color. I will take complete joy in running my fingers through it.”
He inches even closer to me and runs his hand down my arm. I am so revolted by this man; this man that I trusted with my secrets. This man who took said secrets and trapped me in an abusive relationship under the guise of love, breaking me in the process. This man who raped me, knowing my aversion to the act. This man who took everything that was innocent about me back then and twisted it into something dark, dismal and unlovable.
Why can someone not see that I am in danger? City of brotherly love my ass!
“It was you,” I say, remembering the person I saw that night I ran from my apartment, away from Ben. “It was you.”
He chuckles, but he makes no attempt to correct me if I’m wrong. It was him.
“And your friend, Dylan, will think twice before he ever tries to hurt you again.” I almost expire at his revelation. “Well, he won’t be thinking ever again.” He smiles as though he is proud of himself – which he probably is – and I feel myself go weak and woozy. Oh my God!
I have to get away from this man, this monster! Trepidation fills me and I move to run, but he halts me.
“You’re going to get in the van, Delilah.” He jerks his head to the black, heavily tinted SUV dawdling at the curb, the same one I kept seeing these past few weeks. Had it been following me since I left the apartment?
“You’re not going to cause a scene. If you so muc
h as resist, I’ll shoot you and then I’ll find little Miss Rae and off her too.” He shifts his jacket revealing his revolver. “And if you think I won’t do it, try me.” He tugs me closer to him and he digs the gun into my side. “It has a silencer.”
Hot and cold fear runs through my body and the light-headed feeling swarms me once more. I wish I would pass out, maybe then I could get some help. Before I can even put my plans in motion, Rick tucks the gun back inside his waist and scoops me in his arms. Thankfully, because I’m not sure I could have made the short walk to the SUV.
Rick plants a deep, revolting kiss on my lips and cheers and whistles break out around us. Oh now they choose to pay attention?
He whisks me into the SUV and it immediately starts moving when Rick shuts the door.
There is a privacy window up and I wonder if my screams would cause the driver to pull over and help me.
I highly doubt it.
“What are you going to do?” I ask shakily, my voice too soft.
“Oh, she speaks!” Rick exclaims. “What am I going to do? Well…” He pulls me in closer and his next words pour over me like gasoline. “I’m going to finish what I started.”
The privacy screen starts to slowly roll down and my fear turns to shock as all my suspicions come crashing down on me.
“Oh, Delilah, have you met my friend…Ryan Baylor?”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing this novel took courage and lots of it. I ended up getting it from some of the most amazing people I have ever met. Without them this book would not have been released.
To those who read this novel in its infancy, when it was just thoughts thrown on paper, when it was called Her Impassioned Plea – Melissa, Angelique and Petagaye (my lifelong friends) – thank you. You ladies saw what this could be, but never in a million years did I think I could release this. You had so much faith even in my mediocre writing and I appreciate your support, love and critique.
To Elle, who forced my hand to make this my next release, thank you for believing in this story. Thank you for loving the characters and thank you for being annoying. Without your persistence, this novel would still be on the back burner.
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