Broken (Endurance)

by Thomas, April

  Coretta laughed and hugged her daughter. "Honey what me and your father have took a lot of work. I can't tell you how many times I nearly walked out the door. It only worked because we placed our problems in God's hands. We prayed and worshiped together and found it within ourselves to work it out."

  "You and Dad had problems?" Makayla was surprised. She’d always seen her parents smiling and happy together; a very loving couple whom she’d long admired.

  "Well, yes, honey. He lost a lot when he walked away from his family to be with me. This was hard on him, but he loved me."

  "I didn't know."

  "Because you are our princess and we overprotected you. I see now that it didn't help. Look, don't allow the past to ruin what could be a great future. Don't let your ex win. That man would not want to see you happy."

  "But I don't know if that man--” Makayla pointed to the door Tamarius had exited, “--wants to marry me?"

  "I can see by the way he looks at you," Coretta replied. Truth was she already knew that Tamarius had spoken to Fa earlier about asking for Makayla's hand in marriage. Fa was happy to give his blessing to Tamarius.

  "I don't know. He's never been married and I have. I feel like… well like I’m damaged goods," Makayla mumbled.

  "Makayla, don't you ever say that. Do you think he feels that way about you?" Coretta questioned, looking into her daughter’s eyes.

  "I don't know. I can't speak for him." Makayla looked away. The truth was she didn't want to know. She didn't want to find out that he did see her as damaged goods. It was easier for her to accept the negative rather than the positive.

  "Kay, you know in your heart that man loves you."

  There was a tap at the door. "Come in," Makayla called out.

  Fa stepped in carrying her bag. "Feeling better, I see." He set her duffle bag on her bed.

  "Yeah, just hungry."

  "Let me go set the table." Coretta stood, gave her daughter an affectionate pat on the cheek and left the room.

  "So, Tamarius..."

  "Ah, Dad, I just finished talking to Mom about him." Makayla smiled, throwing herself back on a pillow.

  "Yes, but I’m your father, I need to know how you feel."

  “Daddy, everything is good. Don’t worry.”

  Fa sat next to his daughter. "Don't worry?” he snorted. “If he hurts you, I will run amuck. I will run up his back and break his neck," Fa said as Makayla burst out laughing.

  "Dinner is ready!" Coretta yelled.

  "Dad, can I go see Tia?"

  "I think you should eat first. Tia will be all right."

  Makayla reluctantly agreed. "I have to go brush the vomit off my teeth before I eat. I will be out soon."

  "Okay. Is that your only bag?" her father asked, getting up. Slightly confused by the limited amount of luggage they brought with them. Fa was hoping they would stay longer than a few short days.

  "We were rushing so we only packed what we needed. The rest of the stuff is on the jet if we need it," Makayla replied.

  “How long are you staying?” Fa questioned.

  “Well, I don’t know. We don’t want to get in the way. Tomorrow we can get a hotel room in Port of Spain.”

  "Nonsense. Stay here. We have plenty of room," Fa said before leaving the room.

  Makayla shook her head. No matter how hard she would try, she knew her father would not allow them to stay at a hotel. She grabbed her toothbrush and headed down the hall to the bathroom.

  Her parents lived in a four bedroom, one bathroom house. Her father and uncles had built this house from scratch with their bare hands. Makayla had many happy memories of her years spent in and around the house.

  When her father had moved the family to New York, he’d insisted on keeping the house as a summer getaway. Every year the whole family would return for the summer, giving them the best of two worlds. Later Makayla and Tia moved out and her parents then decided to retire and move back home to Arima, Trinidad.

  Makayla entered the dining room and was greeted by the happy and light conversation of her parents and boyfriend were engaged in. They were laughing and eating together as though they’d always known one another and Makayla happily joined in.

  After a great dinner and some pleasant chatting, Makayla went off to see her cousin. Tamarius had agreed to join her and she was grateful for the support.

  He agreed because he wanted to see if he could heal her.

  Makayla took a deep breath and hesitated a moment before opening the door and entering the room. Tamarius could feel the family’s love for Tia as it emanated from every corner of the room and he smiled. The room was almost identical to Makayla's, the only difference being the color. Tia’s room was a burst purple.

  Makayla smiled at him knowing what he was thinking. "Stop it," she whispered. She pulled a chair up to her cousin's bed and picked up her limp hand. Tia looked even worse than Makayla had imagined. Her cousin’s tiny body was battered and her face barely recognizable.

  Tamarius grabbed another chair from the far corner of the room and brought it to the opposite side of the bed.

  He looked over at Makayla who seemed to be lost in thought. "Kay, how do you feel about doing a healing on her?" he asked.

  Makayla looked at him. "Why didn't I think of that? Yeah, I just need to..."

  "When you’re ready," Tamarius said, already knowing she needed to balance her emotions in order to focus.

  Makayla relaxed then nodded at Tamarius. They began with a prayer, asking God for protection and blessings. They gently picked up Tia's hands and instantly Tamarius and Makayla began to send healing energy through Tia's entire body, healing fractures and internal injuries.

  Within minutes, Tia sat straight up in bed, screaming out Makayla's name. Tamarius and Makayla broke their focus and quickly jumped to tend to Tia.

  "Tia, it’s me. Tia!" Makayla called out, wiping the sweat away from her cousin’s forehead. Her heart swelled with hope as she hugged her. "Tamarius, go get her some cool water, please."

  "Sure." He rushed out of the room.

  "Kay," Tia whispered.

  Makayla pulled away and looked into her cousin’s eyes. "Hey, sweetie, you’re awake and talking."

  "Why did you come?" Tia asked.

  "For you, honey. You’re like my sister. Why wouldn't I be here?" Makayla smiled.

  "Leave, please you can't be here, Kay,” Tia whispered through trembling lips. Her eyes were wide with terror as she scanned the room and returned her gaze to Makayla. “It's too dangerous. You have to leave.” Her hoarse whisper rose to a shrill, almost hysterical cry as she took a fierce grip of Makayla’s arms. “Please leave."

  "What are you saying, Tia?" Makayla struggled against the painful grip.

  "They are after you. You’re in danger." Tia stared wide-eyed at Makayla before collapsing back on the bed.

  "What did she mean?" Tamarius asked, his tone stern and strong.

  Makayla jumped at the sound of his voice. "Nothing, she's delusional."

  Tamarius swept a suspicious gaze over Makayla and Tia. He walked around the bed and set the glass of water on the nightstand. He looked down at Tia, steadily scrutinizing the girl’s beaten features. "How is she feeling?"

  "Well, she is talking."

  "I know," Tamarius said, glaring at her.

  Makayla knew he’d overheard, but didn't know how much. "Tamarius, she just came out of a coma." She walked around the bed and came to stand beside him, stopping short of touching him. "Let’s go outside. She needs her rest." She slid her hand over his and gently led him out of the room.

  They walked out onto the back patio where there was a small pool and a set of steel pan drums.

  "Look, I heard what she said. What does she mean, you’re in danger?" He pulled her close to him.

  "I honestly don't know," Makayla replied. "We need to go to that orphanage first thing in the morning."

  "I think you should stay here and watch over your cousin."

  "I ne
ed to go, Tamarius. I have to know what happened to her. The only way I will know is if I go there." Makayla wrapped her arms around him, gently caressing his back. Through her fingertips she sent him soft electric vibrations of warm loving energy. She new it always drove him wild.

  "I know what you’re trying to do," he said

  "Yeah? Is it working?" Makayla smiled as her fingers continued to work across his back.

  "I don't want you getting hurt. Please just stay here and let me go check it out first," Tamarius argued.

  Makayla leaned her head on his chest. She knew he would do his best to keep her away from the orphanage. While he held her in his arms and murmured vague reassurances and soothing words in her ears, she devised a plan. She would have to slip out of the house when everyone was asleep. With the orphanage only a block away, she could easily walk there.

  "Okay, you win. I'll stay here and watch over Tia." Makayla pulled away and folded her arms across her chest in a show of frustration. "I'm tired and it's late anyway." She offered him a quick hug and kissed him goodnight.

  Tamarius watched her walk away and chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief. "I'm not falling for that one," he muttered under his breath.

  Maxwell

  Cressida flipped through the papers in her file as she waited for her client to enter. It took a lot for her to be in the interrogation room that morning and the only thing that kept her going was the reoccurring images of Maxwell's beautiful body lying naked next to her after they’d made wild love.

  Cressida was jolted from her thoughts when the door to the interrogation room opened and two guards walked Blake Carter in, slamming him down in a solid metal chair that had been bolted to the floor. Cressida looked across at her client and steeled herself to remain professional despite the disgust she felt at his presence.

  I'm going to need another dose of Maxwell after this, she thought.

  Blake ignored the guards and concentrated on Cressida. He nodded at her and smiled wanting to remark on the unprofessional look of disdain on her face. He’d requested her specifically and Charleston had had no choice but to abide to his demands. Pleased with himself, Blake took in Cressida’s shapely legs and the tight curve of her rear. He assessed and appraised every curve as if she were a piece of meat and he was starved. His tongue snaked out to lick his famished lips. He straightened himself in the chair and set his cuffed hands on the table.

  "Mr. Carter..." Cressida said.

  "Please, call me Blake."

  "Mr. Carter, I will be representing you in court..."

  "As I requested." He grinned with heartfelt pleasure and anticipation of the shock he knew would follow.

  "What?" Cressida said, shocked by what she just heard.

  "I personally and specifically requested you, Cressida. Oh, dear. Daddy didn't tell you?" His laughter echoed in the small room.

  "Tell me what?"

  "I guess there is a lot Daddy dearest wouldn't want his baby girl to know." Blake laughed

  Annoyed, Cressida struggled to maintain her cool as she realized her father had lied to her. What else had he lied about? she wondered. "As your attorney, I need you to be completely honest with me." Cressida stared into Blake’s eyes with all the intensity she could muster. "Is it true? Did you in fact commit these crimes?"

  Blake leaned back in his chair with a smug smirk on his face. He stared back at Cressida. His body language said it all. Blake Carter was as guilty as sin. He then leaned forward, resting his shackled hands on the cold metal table. "I remember a scared little girl... and, a very protective mother," he growled.

  A vision of that night made its way to Cressida’s mind with startling speed. She could hear her mother’s screams and see her as she fought off the attacker who had broken into their home.

  She knew this vile man sitting before her was the attacker, no matter how many times her father tried to convince her otherwise. Cressida took a deep breath and a firm control of her nerves. She needed to get this interview over with. "Is that a yes or a no?" she asked, looking at her watch.

  "Somewhere you need to be?" Blake asked with a slow sly smile.

  "Answer the question!" Cressida yelled, losing her temper.

  "Mmm, feisty. Okay, little lady. These charges are bull,” he said in a calm voice that promised of a violent storm to come. “They’re just trying to pin cold cases on me. Not one of them can prove that I did any of these!" Losing his temper, he shouted out his last words, accentuating them with a firm pounding of his fists on the metal table.

  "So original." Unimpressed, Cressida chuckled and glanced at her manicure.

  "I'm telling the truth," Blake yelled.

  "Sir, the forensic team found DNA on each and every one of the victims." Cressida pulled out the forensic reports and held it up to him.

  "It ain't mine. It ain't mine. When that test comes back, you will see. Those stupid bastards don't know what the hell they’re doing. They’re just trying to pin cases on me so they can just close the book. Meanwhile the real killer is out there."

  Cressida took a closer look at his case file. The DNA results had not come back yet. She was convinced this would be an easy case, the only obstacle being Blake claiming insanity. Apparently he was many things, but not insane. Cressida flipped through the case files, quickly scanning through the paragraphs of police statements.

  "You were convinced that I’ve done it, uh? Open closed case, you thought." Blake laughed. "Now you're confused, right?"

  "I don't understand how you can find any of this funny, Mr. Carter. You are looking at some very serious charges. If you are found guilty, you will get a death sentence and we all know not all dogs go to heaven," Cressida retorted.

  "Roof, roof." Blake laughed. "See everyone is so convinced they got the right man, when the results come back... I will be a free man." He continued with his grating laugh.

  Cressida shuddered to think he would be let out in the world, but he was right about the tests. If they came back and his DNA didn’t match what had been found at the crime scenes, they would have to let him go. Cressida knew he had committed those crimes and couldn’t shake the sense of wrong that accompanied the thought of Blake Carter going free. Surely there was something she was missing. There had to be something else that would help send him away for life.

  No matter how it bothered her, she forced herself to accept the role she had in this case. She was on the defendant’s side of the fence with this case, not the prosecutor’s. At that very moment, she would have given her career to be on the prosecutor’s side, working diligently to put him away for life.

  "I'm finished." Cressida slammed her folders closed and nodded at the two police officers.

  They walked forward and each grabbed a hold of Blake's arms, yanking him up and out of his chair

  Busy putting her files away, Cressida glanced up to see him glaring at her.

  "I will be seeing you soon," he said.

  "Look. Mr. Carter, there is a lot more involved in this case besides DNA. They can still implicate you in these crimes. You may get out for a short time, but everything done in the dark will come to light," Cressida growled. She grabbed her things and walked out of the room. She felt so much rage boiling up inside of her and she had so many questions and so many people she needed to talk to. She pulled out her cell phone and called her secretary to set up a meeting with the prosecuting attorney for the Blake Carter case.

  When she reached her car, she got in and simply sat there for a while as she tried to assimilate what had just happened. Her father had lied to her about taking the case. The thought clung to her and fostered a growing frustration. "That bastard knew from the very beginning," Cressida grumbled as she started her car and drove off.

  ***

  Maxwell looked at his watch. He and Cressida had agreed to meet for lunch and, she was already twenty minutes late. He sat in her office reading the morning newspaper and drinking a bottle of water.

  Cressida's secretary had been busy all mor
ning accepting calls and sending faxes. When Cressida had called in what seemed to be a very rushed and angry tone, it completely slipped her mind to tell her that Maxwell was waiting for her.

  He had taken care of his business meetings early that morning and was free for the rest of the day, and while he didn’t mind waiting, he repeatedly glanced at his watch, a habit, he thought. Forty-five minutes later he heard the office door burst open. Cressida stomped through the door and headed to her desk where she broke down and wept.

  Maxwell sat up and folded the newspaper, flopping it down on the coffee table as he stood. Cressida was unaware of his presence and he hesitated a moment, sensing he was violating her space. But when her shoulders shook with pain and grief, he came to her side and wrapped his arms around her.