Fallen Woman

by Stephie Walls

  I started to choke up. The lump in my throat was so large, I had a hard time breathing. I should have seen it. Being consumed by children isn’t a reason to not know your husband is involved with the mob.

  “My wife came from humble beginnings but pulled herself out, finishing Ivy League with a full scholarship and honors. She had zero familial support until she met her late husband. She’s a hard worker who insists on doing everything on her own. When I found out she was living in poverty, I was desperate to help her, but she insisted on earning her way.

  “Failing once again to recognize my friends might not have been the best place to seek relationship advice, I went to them. Max Roster, Holland Hank, Drake Ballard, Willum Santer, and I all sat around Holland’s house talking late into the night about the best way to offer her assistance. They’d all met her at the Literacy Gala and adored her. We all wanted a way to help her. Foolishly, we devised a contract of sorts. It was meant to protect Gianna, not end up hurting her. I thought if we laid ground rules for what I was going to propose to her for the group, it would eliminate any gray area. My friends knew I was in deep emotionally, and I thought they were trying to help me win her heart.”

  He stopped speaking for a moment. I didn’t know if he needed to collect his thoughts or his emotions, and it might have been a bit of both. I took a step closer to him, now holding his hand in both of mine. I wanted to ensure he felt my support standing here.

  “We all attend functions regularly where we are either hit on or flat out propositioned by women who have made landing a wealthy husband their career. Gianna fit in with the crowd we socialized with—she was well-educated and well-spoken, so having her on any one of our arms deterred those women and gave us company we felt safe with. She should have felt the same. No one was ever supposed to touch Gianna. Not intimately. Yes, they would escort her into and away from functions, but it was clear she was off limits to my friends. Our agreement made arrangements for her to buy clothes for each event at the expense of the man taking her out and rewarded her with five hundred dollars at the end of the evening for her time.

  “Things were going well as far as I knew. Gianna and I never went on a paid date. I didn’t accompany her on the outings with other men, nor did I arrange them. I simply provided her with a cell phone at my expense to be able to reach her. Months went by, and my friends talked of Gianna like she was one of our group and always had been. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago, the last time she went out with Holland Hanks, I became aware of a problem. The details of that night aren’t mine to share, but when Gianna confessed to me what had taken place, I took matters into my own hands.”

  I kept waiting for him to let me talk, to hand over the reins, but he kept going, so I waited stoically by his side, never taking my eyes from his face.

  “I should never have touched Holland Hanks—it was wrong, it was illegal, and apparently, I really did a number on his face. But if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. For Mr. Hanks to act as though it was unwarranted or insinuate he doesn’t know what spurred the attack is a lie. I do not regret defending my wife.”

  The moment he stopped speaking, the reporters started firing off questions faster than he could answer them. They wanted to know what Holland had done. Others insisted on calling it legalized prostitution. The insults flew as fast as the question did until one reporter finally stopped to address me.

  “What could you possibly have needed five hundred dollars per date for, Miss LeBron?” he asked in a horribly condescending voice—passing judgment before I’d spoken a word.

  “Her name is Mrs. Lane,” Jase responded coldly before allowing me to step up to the microphone.

  That was a question I knew I’d get. It wasn’t one I wanted to answer but felt I had to. “I’m not sure if any of you can imagine what it feels like to have failed—at life. To be a woman who’s fallen so far down you’ve lost sight of who you once were, but that’s where I was. I was trying to make it legitimately; I wanted to do it on my own. I didn’t want handouts. I was doing the best I could, but the truth is, even living in subsidized housing, I couldn’t make ends meet. Add having a chronically ill toddler to that equation, and five hundred dollars is a drop in the bucket.” I took a deep breath and admitted, “My youngest daughter has Chronic Lyme Disease, and her medical bills have far exceeded my ability to pay them. Faced with her needing treatment and not being able to provide it, as a parent, I made the choice I had to. I compromised who I was to ensure she was healthy. I’m ashamed of what I did, but I’d do it again to save my daughter.”

  “Is your marriage a gimmick to keep Mr. Lane from facing charges?” The reporters screamed their questions, making them appear more aggressive than they might have been in a one-on-one interview.

  I tried to make eye contact with the man who’d asked the question. “No, sir. It is not. I love Jase. He’s my best friend. And if you haven’t noticed, he’s still facing charges. The two of us getting married did not make that go away.”

  “What did Mr. Hanks do to you that sent Mr. Lane into such an uproar?” a random woman asked from the front of the crowd.

  “At this time, I’m not at liberty to discuss that.” I followed Hart’s instructions on how to evade a question, but I wouldn’t get away with it often.

  “Is your marriage to Mr. Lane a scam to get people to believe you’re really in love? Is this a publicity stunt to try to get Mr. Lane out of trouble?” I wondered if any of them were actively listening to anything being said, or if they were just preparing the question they wanted to ask. Having already answered the question, I was frustrated by their inability to pay attention.

  Jase stepped up to take over, but I held up my hand to stop him. “The truth is, regardless of what I say, you’re going to believe what you want, but nothing about mine and Jase’s relationship is a scam. We’ve been very close for quite some time, and I love him. Whether he was loaded or broke, that wouldn’t change our relationship—only our address.”

  As the questions continued, Jase stood firmly next to me and answered the majority of those fired at us. I managed to keep my tears at bay; they weren’t of sadness but rather frustration. I needed to escape this nightmare and hoped Hart would end it sooner rather than later.

  Ten minutes passed, and when the questions got beyond appropriate, he put a stop to it and ushered Jase and me back inside where we were met with a fresh pot of coffee. We waited for the last reporter to leave before making our way home. I was exhausted—the emotional overload had taken a toll on me. But when I looked at Jase, he seemed pumped.

  “What’s got you so excited?” I asked through a yawn.

  “We get to talk to the kids when we get home.”

  Somewhere in the chaos of the afternoon, I’d forgotten about the adoption, but Jase hadn’t. My guess was it’s how he got through that horrible browbeating by the press that resulted in zero resolution.

  I didn’t respond other than to squeeze his hand. There was little doubt in my mind the kids would be elated, but it would mean the world to them that he’d asked.

  ~~~

  The kids had been ecstatic and couldn’t wait to change their last name. I was thrilled, but at the same time, a tiny piece of me died inside. I knew Ryan didn’t reside in my children’s last name, but they were constant reminders of him, and regardless of how things ended, I’d loved him beyond measure. There was no one left to provide them with glimpses of the wonderful man their father had been, and while their last name was only a word, it wasn’t something I’d ever thought I’d give away. But there I was, smiling through the last little bit of grief Ryan still held in my life.

  With the kids on board, the decision had been made. It was one I was happy with, and I couldn’t wait for us all to legally be a family. Once we had the kids in bed, we retreated to the sanctity of our room. Jase could sense something was off, but instead of probing, he threw me a T-shirt and a pair of his boxers like he used to do—covering me in everything
him. After I had changed, I crawled into bed next to my husband and curled into his side.

  The moment his arms went around my body, the dam I’d been trying to hold back came flooding open. He couldn’t stop my heart from breaking or right the wrongs I’d made. He didn’t try to dry my eyes or pretend he could fix the place we were in. But his embrace told me silently he would just keep loving me, through it all. It’d only get worse—this was by no means over—but no matter what we faced, he wouldn’t leave me.

  I hadn’t cried over Ryan in years, but part of this emotional river was the last little bit of him I’d held onto. I had been unwilling to relinquish his memory. I’d never thought I’d find a better love, nothing deeper, warmer. I promised him I’d hold steadfast to what we had when the few people who had shown up for his funeral had left. I stood there, willing him to get out of that box, to walk up behind me and grab our children. We needed one more embrace, one final I love you. Something to remember him with. Somehow now, I believed by letting go of his last name I was letting go of him. I was ready to move on—I just hadn’t realized how painful it would be, even years later.

  I’d loved him. I’d landed in a black hole because of him. He risked us, our kids, and me making poor decisions, and in the end, he lost. But all those things led me to exactly where I am. Tied up in the arms of a man who took me, broken, carrying a ton of baggage, and loved me despite how far I’d fallen.

  He loved me in spite of myself.

  I fell asleep crying on his chest in the safest place I’d ever been.

  We woke to more bad news in the morning. When Jase called Hart to tell him to file the adoption paperwork, he let him know Holland was doing his own interview with one of the local news stations. It would be aired at six tonight. My stomach turned, and I went running to the bathroom to expel my breakfast. I felt like I was living a nightmare. No one should have to go through the public humiliation I did with Ryan, but to face it twice just seemed grossly unfair.

  The knock on the door dragged me out of my pity party. As I held on to the porcelain, the knock came again.

  “Babe, are you okay?” He worried about how I was handling all this.

  “Yeah. I’ll be out in a second.” I wiped my mouth with a tissue and flushed before I opened the door to find a distraught Jase staring back at me.

  I brushed my teeth as he talked. “I don’t think you should watch the interview tonight. Hart and I can handle things from here on out.”

  I spun around so fast I almost knocked him over. “What? Why?” I said with a mouthful of toothpaste.

  “It’s getting to you too much. You don’t need the stress. I created this. I’ll fix it.”

  I spat in the sink and rinsed my mouth before answering, pointing my toothbrush at him as I spoke. “No way. We’re in this together. If I hadn’t come into your life, you wouldn’t be facing any of this. You and your friends would still be tight, you wouldn’t be missing work, you wouldn’t be dealing with my demons. We’re in this together! That’s what you said, Jase. Everyone else be damned. Those were your words. You’re not pushing me aside the first time it gets hard. I’m tougher than you think.”

  He studied my face, and I knew he wanted to argue. Instead, he nodded and conceded. “Okay, but if it gets to be too much, promise me you’ll tell me? I’ve dealt with people like Holland before—I can deal with him, too.”

  “I know you can, but you don’t have to.”

  He placed a kiss on my forehead and pushed back to see my eyes. “I love you, Gia. More and more every day.”

  Those words meant more to me than anything he could’ve ever bought or done. Those words coming from his mouth were a commitment of monumental proportion. I cherished them.

  The day seemed to go by at a snail’s pace, but as six o’clock approached, I wished time would slow down. The interview came careening at us faster than we could comprehend the trash Holland was spewing.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. My jaw hung open. Jase stormed around the room, throwing things and cussing more with every word he uttered. I was glad the kids were asleep—they didn’t need to see this.

  “Gianna and I met through Jase Lane. I did indeed pay for her time to help her out, but she developed an unhealthy interest in me romantically, and I wasn’t able to break it off with her. I thought we could keep things on a friendship level, but she kept pushing for more. When I finally told her no, she apparently went running to Jase with a lie about how things ended. I could never consider a girl like Gianna LeBron as a potential mate—that would be social suicide.”

  I wanted to punch the smug look off his face. He thought he was going to get off scot-free. He was convinced I didn’t have anything on him. I couldn’t prove what he’d done because I wasn’t conscious. If he’d been within arm’s reach, I’d break my fist trying to rearrange the features on his ugly mug. I’d never felt this sort of rage toward anyone.

  “Jase has always had a jealous streak a mile wide. I couldn’t help she wanted me first and settled for him. As friends, I had hoped we could look past that and maintain our ties. His attack was proof he needs help for his temper. He might want to analyze what his motivation for his action was. If it was that woman, he should reconsider. She’s not worth the trouble.”

  The TV continued to blare on and on. I wondered how long this crap would go on. Surely there was a limit on the lies they would allow him to tell. It was only a thirty-minute program, and the station seemed to have devoted the entire segment to Holland Hanks.

  Jase ranted and raved around the room. I had no idea what all he’d broken or how he even knew so many curse words. It finally took me yelling at him to get his attention. “Jase!”

  He stopped pacing and jerked his head in my direction. “What?” He didn’t mean to snap at me, and I wasn’t about to get my feelings hurt over it.

  “I need the car keys.” I held my hand out, waiting for him to hand them over.

  “What? Where are you going?”

  “You’re going to have to trust me on this one, Jase.” He dropped the keys into my hand.

  “Are you going to kill Holland?” His brow furrowed, and I couldn’t help but look at him like he’d lost his mind. His asinine question didn’t warrant a response. “The kids need their mom. You won’t do them any good in jail.”

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Gia, where are you going?” He was insistent on an answer.

  I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck to bring his mouth to mine. I kissed him tenderly, then passionately. When we broke free, I gave him one last peck. “Trust me, Jase. It’s time for me to come to your rescue.”

  I didn’t wait for his response before I trotted down the stairs, determined to end this once and for all. When I got in the car and started it, I paused, wishing I had one more day with Miss Pearl. She’d tell me I was doing the right thing—she’d give me the courage I desperately needed.

  ~~~

  It was after eleven when I finally left the police station, and by the time I got home, Jase was frantic. I hadn’t taken my phone, but even if I had, talking to him wouldn’t have been an option. As soon as I walked in the door, he rushed me and virtually tackled me.

  “Jesus Christ, Gianna, where the fuck have you been?”

  I hated when he used my full name. I knew instantly how unhappy or serious he was.

  “At the police station. How are the kids?”

  “The kids are fine. What were you doing at the police station?”

  I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long drink while he waited for an answer. “Pressing charges against Holland.”

  His eyes went wide as saucers. “We agreed we’d find another way out of this, Gia. Why would you do that?”

  “Because he didn’t believe I would. He either didn’t believe I’d gone to the hospital the next morning to have the rape kit done, or he didn’t think I had the courage to come forward. He t
hinks he can bully you and humiliate us because he believes I’m too weak to fight. And, baby, that pisses me off.”

  I watched his face, waiting for a response, but when he didn’t say anything, I just shrugged.

  “There are only two things in this world that will cause me to come unglued. My kids,” I held up one finger, “and my husband.” I showed him the second finger. “If anyone ever tries to hurt one of them, I’ll fight to the death before I willingly let them be taken down.”

  His lips crashed mine in an angry, passionate kiss. It was painful and harsh, but it told me Jase was ready to fight and finally saw me as an equal. His partner.

  “Did you call Hart? Does he have any idea what you’ve done?” he asked when he finished punishing my mouth.

  “No. But I’m sure he will when he sees the news tomorrow night?” I felt justified in my eye-for-an-eye mentality. I was empowered by this asshole trying to push me down. No more. I was done being beaten by society and mother nature.

  “Oh, God. Gia, baby, what did you do?” He had no clue what to do with me at that moment. He’d never seen this side of me. The fighter he’d seen was the one who was competing to live. This girl was fighting to win. And it felt good.

  “I may or may not have stopped by the television station and asked if they had a reporter who’d like to accompany me to the station with exclusive, full disclosure in the Hanks and Lane case. When the group finally understood who I was and what I was asking for, I had my pick. I chose Leslie Bayne—the anchor for the ten o’clock news with channel four.”