“It looks just the same as I remember,” Peaches gushed. “My daddy used to have us out here sweeping the driveway and cutting the grass every Saturday. I helped my daddy plant those bushes over there.”
Peaches still hadn’t made a move to get out of the car.
“If you’ve changed your mind, that’s fine,” Angela said gently.
“No, I still wanna go. I just wanted to look at the house.”
Peaches finally pushed the car door open and they walked together toward the front door. She timidly pressed the doorbell.
“Who is it?” a woman’s melodic voice called out.
Peaches wrung her hands. “It’s Peaches.” Her voice was much smaller now.
Seconds later, the door opened and a woman dressed in a gray pantsuit peered at them through a screen door. She was tall and thick with stiff-looking hair that was obviously a weave. Angela could see the family resemblance. The wide cheekbones, the long neck, the full lips.
“Peaches? Is that really you?” The woman leaned out of the door and pulled Peaches into a bear hug. “Girl, let me look at you! You’re about as tall as I am! You look just like your mama!”
Angela introduced herself to Aunt Gina and explained that they had just dropped by to say hello.
“So you’re wearin’ your hair natural now,” Aunt Gina said, reaching out to touch it.
Peaches looked down at her hands.
“It looks nice on her, doesn’t it?” Angela said.
“I’m not into all that nappy hair stuff,” Aunt Gina said, turning up her nose. Her hair looked as if she’d snatched it off a store mannequin. “As far as I’m concerned, nappy hair needs a perm or a straightening comb.”
Angela glanced over at Peaches. The happy kid she’d bonded with all afternoon was about to retreat into her shell.
“Is Damon here?” Peaches asked, never directly looking at her aunt.
“Yep. His lazy butt is in the backyard cutting the grass.” The woman walked into the kitchen and opened a back door. “Damon, you got some company,” she yelled.
Aunt Gina waited a beat and was about to call out again, when a lanky teenager lumbered into the kitchen. When his eyes landed on Peaches, they lit up.
“Hey, sis!” he said, running over to embrace her.
Peaches took a step back to get a better look at him.
“How did you get taller than me?” Peaches playfully punched him in the shoulder, then hugged him again.
Damon laughed.
“That boy is only fourteen years old and he’s already eating me out of house and home.” Aunt Gina smiled and tucked a swatch of her weave behind her right ear. “I hope you’re not trying to move back in here. We barely have enough room as it is. I’m working at L.A. Unified now. But my check can only go so far.”
Peaches looked down at the floor. “I ain’t trying to come back.”
“So where you stayin’?” Damon asked. “We have to hang out sometime.” His voice had that too-deep baritone of a teenage boy on his way to becoming a man.
“Uh…I live with a family in L.A.”
“Where in L.A.?” Aunt Gina asked.
“Near Crenshaw and Washington,” Angela said.
“Crenshaw and Washington? Is it safe over there?”
Probably safer than being here with you,” Angela wanted to say.
“Damon, you need to finish getting that backyard done. Then I want you to sweep out the garage, mop the kitchen floor and clean the bathroom. And ladies, I hate to be rude, but I was on my way to a meeting at the church.”
Damon was hesitant to leave. “Will you call me?”
“I will,” Peaches promised. She hugged him again. “What’s your phone number?”
“I’ll give it to you,” Aunt Gina said before Damon could respond. “You need to get back to your chores.”
Damon reluctantly backed out of the room.
Angela threw her arm around Peaches’ shoulders. This time, Peaches didn’t flinch or pull away. “I guess we’ll be going then,” Angela said.
Aunt Gina darted across the room and opened the door. “Thanks for dropping by.”
They stepped across the threshold onto the porch and Aunt Gina followed them outside
Peaches finally made eye contact with her aunt for more than a split second. “Uh…can you give me Damon’s number?”
Aunt Gina scratched the back of her weave. “I don’t really know how to say this, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in contact with Damon.”
Heat stung Angela’s cheeks. “Why not?”
“I know what you been doing,” Aunt Gina said, lowering her voice to a sinister level. “One of my church members said she saw you out on Long Beach Boulevard in Compton prostituting yourself. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to do. Is it true?”
Peaches turned away, her eyes saturated with shame.
“No, it’s not,” Angela said, before Peaches could respond.
Angela wanted to yell what Loretha had told them over breakfast at Denny’s. Peaches is not a prostitute. She’s a sexually exploited child. But she knew this callous woman wouldn’t get it.
“Let’s go.” Angela protectively wrapped her arm around Peaches as Aunt Gina trailed after them down the driveway.
“Sister Miller told me she saw it with her own eyes. My brother would turn over in his grave if he knew his only daughter was out there turning tricks.”
Angela wanted to cover Peaches’ ears. She also wanted to punch Aunt Gina in the mouth.
“Go to the car,” Angela told Peaches in a stern voice.
Peaches obediently ran off.
Angela turned back to Aunt Gina. “Maybe Peaches wouldn’t be in the situation she’s in if she’d gotten some support from you rather than criticism after she was gang raped.”
Aunt Gina pressed her hand flat against her chest. “Don’t you dare try to blame that girl’s bad choices on me! Peaches was always fast. I pray for that child every day.”
“You need to pray for your damn self!”
Aunt Gina recoiled, her back hunching like a snake ready to strike. “How dare you talk to me like that. You don’t even—”
“Hypocrites like you make me sick!”
Angela stalked down the driveway.
“You okay?” she asked, back in the car with Peaches.
The girl responded with a curt nod.
As Angela pulled away from the curb, she felt like kicking herself. They’d had a great day. Peaches had started opening up to her. No telling what kind of damage this visit had done.
“What kinda music you like?” Peaches asked five minutes later. She was smiling again, having buried her hurt, covering it up with a thick pretend shield.
“R&B and gospel. What about you?”
“I like everything, but I love me some Rihanna.” She gave the radio knob a spin, stopping when she came to a Kanye West song.
It didn’t seem right to just ignore her aunt’s cruelness.
“Peaches, your aunt was wrong to—”
“It don’t matter,” Peaches said cutting her off. “Like Gerald told me, I don’t need no family anyway.”
Chapter 53
Day Three: 9:30 p.m.
Brianna lay in bed determined to plot her way out of this bad dream. Maybe she should fake another asthma attack. One so bad they had to rush her to the hospital. But she didn’t trust these evil people. If they thought she was really sick, they would probably just let her die.
She wondered when Kaylee was coming back. She had only talked to her once since coming to the new house. Poor Kaylee was no doubt doing everything they told her to do. Brianna could tell that Kaylee wasn’t strong like she was. Probably because she wasn’t raised in the church.
Brianna refused to stop believing that her Uncle Dre was coming to get her. She’d once overheard her mother and grandmother talking about her uncle being in prison. He would probably get some of his prison friends to help him rescue her. When they busted i
nto the house, she wanted them to shoot both Clint and Freda right in the heart. She didn’t care if thinking like that wasn’t being a good Christian. Like her grandmamma always said, some people just got the devil in ’em.
There was a hard knock on the door, then it flung open. “You hungry, girl?”
Shantel stepped into the room. As far as Brianna was concerned, she was just a mini version of Freda. Her Uncle Dre should shoot her too. She flashed back to Shantel having sex with that nasty man and wanted to throw up. She really wanted to tell Shantel to get the hell away from her, but she was so hungry. Maybe if she ate some food, she could think better.
“Yeah,” Brianna said, sitting up.
“Then c’mon. This ain’t no restaurant. Ain’t nobody gonna serve you.”
Brianna stood up. She’d forgotten that she was still wearing the short skirt they made her put on for her date. She wished she had something to cover up her legs. The house was so cold.
This was the first time she’d been let out of the bedroom, except for going to the bathroom. Kym was right. This place really was much nicer than the other house. The couches and furniture appeared to be new. The kitchen was well-kept. But just like the other place, the windows were blacked out. She spotted containers of Chinese takeout on the table.
“The paper plates are over there,” Shantel said, sitting down.
Brianna took a seat across from her and dished out some fried rice onto a plate. She tried to chew but her jaw was too sore.
Shantel got up from the table and poured an amber liquid into a short glass.
“Here,” she said. “This will make you feel better.”
Brianna took a whiff and knew it was alcohol. “I’m not drinking that.”
“Fine. I was just tryin’ to help you feel better. I don’t care if your face never stops hurtin’.”
“I wanna go home,” Brianna pleaded.
“I already told you, you’re not going nowhere. I didn’t want to be here at first either. But this is better than being at a lot of places. At least we get to go shopping sometimes and eat what we want.”
Shopping? Maybe that was her way out. If they took her to a mall, she could scream and yell and get somebody to rescue her.
“I wanna go shopping,” Brianna said.
“You can’t go shopping unless you start going on some dates first and make some money. They ain’t takin’ care of you for free.”
“I told you I’m not going on no date!” Brianna exploded. “And stop calling it a date. You’re a prostitute. You can be one if you want to, but I’m never gonna be one!”
“Go back to your room!” Shantel yelled, snatching Brianna’s plate of fried rice from the table. “Freda told me to be nice to you and try to get you to act right. But you crazy!”
“You’re the crazy one if you think you can just kidnap somebody off the street. You’re going to jail.”
“You don’t get it,” Shantel spat, “nobody don’t care about ho’s. That’s what I am and that’s what you’re gonna be too. You know how many girls Shep has kidnapped? Tons of them. And nobody has ever come lookin’ for ’em because nobody cares about ’em. Even if the police pick us up, we can turn around and go right back to Shep. And because we’re juveniles the most we can get is six months. And that ain’t no time.”
“Why do you wanna do this?” Brianna cried. “Why don’t you just get a job?”
“I can make more money in one day on the Internet than I can make in two weeks working a square job. So as far as I’m concerned, I’m just a smart businesswoman.”
Brianna stood up and swept the containers of food onto the floor.
“You must’a lost your mind,” Shantel screamed. She swung at Brianna, but Brianna saw the punch coming, grabbed Shantel’s arm and hurled her to the floor.
Brianna dashed for the kitchen door. To her surprise it opened easily. But on the other side, there was another door, a heavy metal one with two deadbolt locks. She tugged on the door, but it wouldn’t budge.
Shantel yelled from the floor. “I already told you, you can’t get out of here. Why you so hardheaded?”
“You have to let me go!” Brianna screamed. “If you let me go, my mother will pay you. I swear.”
“I don’t need your money,” Shantel said. “I’m a businesswoman.”
“You’re not a businesswoman!” Brianna fired back. “Where’s your house and your car, Ms. Businesswoman? You can’t even leave the house when you want. You’re just a slave, but you’re too stupid to know it.”
“You just wait until Freda get back and I tell her how you been actin’,” Shantel shouted at her. “I hope they give you to Demonic. And if they do, you’re gonna wish you was dead.”
Day Four Missing
* * *
“Once a ‘Romeo Pimp’ has gained a victim’s trust, he systematically breaks down her resistance, support systems, and self-esteem. Victims are coerced into submission through gang rape, confinement, beatings, torture, cutting, tattooing, burning, branding, being deprived of basic needs, and threats of murder.”
—The State of Human Trafficking in California
California Department of Justice
Chapter 54
Day Four: 1:30 a.m.
It was thirty minutes before closing time at City Stars and Dre was more nervous than he’d ever been in his life.
He was sitting behind the wheel of Mossy’s van, parked half a block away from the club. Apache was in the back section of the van. Bobby and Terrell were holding it down inside, while Mossy was waiting for them at the spot where they planned to take Clint after kidnapping him.
“Man, we need to get this show on the road,” Apache said from the back of the van. “After that sick-ass video of little shorty, I think we should just fire on the place and ask questions later.”
“Please shut up.” Dre was finding it hard to sit still.
Apache abided by Dre’s request for all of thirty seconds. “How much longer we gotta wait?”
Dre ignored him. D’wan and Gus should have been there by now. If they didn’t get there soon, the club would be closed. Where the hell were they?
Dre fired off a text to Gus.
Dre: u comin?
Gus: almst thre
Five minutes later, he watched Gus park his Tundra and walk into City Stars. D’wan pulled up on his Harley a short time later.
“It’s about time,” Dre said to himself.
He drove the van to the mouth of the alley behind the club. It was all out of his control now. He prayed everything went down the way they’d planned.
For the next eighteen minutes, Apache and Dre waited in silence. Dre’s fingers alternately tightened and released around the steering wheel. What was taking so long?
Then Apache started humming and tapping out a beat on the back of Dre’s seat. “Can we get some music or something?” he asked.
“Will you please shut up?” Dre replied, more than annoyed. “We need to be alert so—”
The buzz of his smartphone stopped him mid-sentence. He picked it up and read the text.
Gus: bout 2 go down
“It’s time!” Dre started up the van. “Open the door!”
Apache did as instructed as the van crawled down the alley. Dre stopped just past the back door of the club, engine running.
“I don’t know why you didn’t let me go inside where the action is,” Apache complained.
“Shut up!” Dre snapped. “When we get this fool, you’re going to get plenty of action. Just be ready to slam that door shut as soon as everybody jumps in.”
Exactly five minutes later, Bobby and Terrell busted through the back door of the club and into the alley. They tossed a squirming Clint into the van and hopped in with him.
Dre hit the gas before Apache had time to close the door.
Chapter 55
Day Four: 1:45 a.m.
Brianna was rolled into a ball on the bed, listening to Kym and Tameka joke about the johns they’d s
erviced that night. She could barely keep her eyes open, but was too afraid of what might happen to her if she let herself fall asleep.
“The first guy smelled like puke,” Tameka complained, twisting her lips. “I couldn’t wait until he was done.”
Kym laughed. “You lucky he only lasted two minutes.”
Tameka joined in the laughter. “More like a minute and thirty seconds.”
“Hey, peeps!” Brianna heard a man calling out from kitchen. “Anybody awake up in this mug? Daddy’s home!”
“Yuck!” Kym grabbed her clothes from the bed. “I hate him.” She dashed out of the room and down the hallway.”
Brianna hopped off the bed, frightened by the ashen look on Tameka’s face.
“What’s the matter? Who’s that?” Brianna asked.
“It’s Darnell,” Tameka whispered. “He’s ugly and stinky and got rotten teeth. He works for The Shepherd. He thinks he can just come up in here and have sex with us anytime he wants. Freda already told him about that. But she ain’t here.”
Tameka looked around the room as if she was searching for a place to hide. She dashed into the closet and closed the door.
Before Brianna could follow her, a man burst into the room.
“Where’s everybody at? Is this any way to welcome Darnell home?”
A man with the face of a canine stared hungrily at Brianna. His hair was uncombed and he smelled like he lived on the streets. Brianna wanted to run, but her body was suddenly immobilized.
“You must be the new girl,” Darnell said, stepping further into the room. “Come over here so Daddy can get a look at you.”
Brianna started to tremble. The fact that Kym and Tameka were scared of what this man might do made Brianna doubly terrified.
“I said come here!” Darnell shouted.
Brianna still didn’t move.
Darnell stepped closer and held both of her arms up high. He turned her around and started running his hands all over her rear end. Brianna tried to pull away, repulsed by the man’s touch.
“Whoooo weeeee! This is some real tender meat right here,” he said, slapping her on the rear end. “Daddy can’t wait to test drive you.”
Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2) Page 20
