“If you wanna come home, I won’t be mad at you. I know these bitches tried to make you testify against me.”
“She’s got a home,” Loretha hissed.
“I still love you, Peaches.” Gerald winked, blew her a kiss and walked off down the hallway.
Loretha gritted her teeth. “That piece of low-life scum.”
Peaches craned her neck and watched Gerald as he strolled down the corridor.
“At least he ain’t mad.” She reached up, patted her hair and smiled. “He said my hair was pretty.”
Loretha closed her eyes and shook her head. “Lord, give me strength.”
* * *
After leaving the courthouse, Loretha and Peaches returned to Harmony House. Angela went to her car to make some calls and arrived thirty minutes later. She found Loretha in her office, gazing out of the window.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sad,” Angela said, stepping into the office and closing the door behind her.
It took a while before Loretha responded.
“This has been a pretty sucky day,” she began, her voice low and raspy. “And not just because Peaches failed to testify against her pimp. I just got the news that one of my girls is HIV positive.” She picked up a piece of paper from her desk and handed it to Angela. “And about ten minutes ago, Anamaria handed me this.”
Ms. Loreeta—
i’m going back to my Daddy. he sorry for what he did. he not going to beet me no more. Thank U for helping me.
Lotta Luv, Peaches
Angela fell onto the couch across from Loretha’s desk as if someone had knocked the wind out of her.
Loretha forced a smile. “My sentiments exactly.”
“What happened?”
“What happened? It’s pretty simple. You heard her pimp tell her she was pretty. That made her forget everything he’d done to her. I would suspect that since her parents died, he’s the only person in her life to give her any kind of positive reinforcement. Doesn’t matter that just a couple of days ago he practically beat her half to death. These pimps know how vulnerable these girls are and they use that to their advantage.”
“We should call the police,” Angela said.
“Even if they brought her back, it wouldn’t do any good,” Loretha said wearily. “This isn’t my first girl to go back and it won’t be my last. But I swear, every time it takes something out of me. I just pray the next time I hear about her—and there will be a next time—that scumbag hasn’t killed her.”
“We have to do something?” Angela said. “She’s a minor. If we can’t get him on assault or pimping, why can’t they arrest him for statutory rape?”
Loretha laughed. “You’re the lawyer, aren’t you? We’re not talking about some cute kid from the suburbs who’s caught sleeping with her teacher. These girls are labeled prostitutes, so nobody cares that they’re being bought and sold by adult men. Even though they’re underage.”
Tears slid down Loretha’s cheeks.
“She has my number,” Angela said. “Maybe she’ll call me.”
“She won’t have your number for long unless she memorizes it. Gerald will make sure she doesn’t have contact with anybody except him, his other girls and their clients. Unless she runs away again, she’ll be totally isolated.”
“I guess my taking her back to her aunt’s house didn’t help. After talking to warm, fuzzy Aunt Gina, I understand how she could gravitate toward Gerald. She doesn’t have anybody else. At least he pretends to care about her.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about that.”
Angela slumped further down on the couch. “I still don’t understand how you can do this heartbreaking work day after day.”
“Sometimes I wonder myself,” Loretha said, smiling. She grew quiet again.
“Peaches is a bright girl,” Loretha continued. “Over the years, I’ve developed a knack for being able to spot the ones who have the strength to change their lives. I saw it in Anamaria. The ability to wake up one day and realize their own self-worth. I have faith that Peaches will ultimately be another one of my success stories.”
Chapter 63
Day Four: 9:45 a.m.
Apache was pissed off. They were treating him like a friggin’ babysitter. He needed to be where the action was.
“You sick. You know that?” Apache leaned forward and spit in Clint’s face. “Anybody who mess with little girls is a pervert. And I don’t like perverts.”
Clint was all cried out now. “If you let me go,” he said in a whiny voice, “I swear, I’ll pay you.”
“I don’t want no pervert’s money. I wish I had my stun gun. I’d electrocute your punk ass. I can’t believe you wimped out in two zaps. You a little bitch.”
Apache punched him in the jaw and he tumbled to the ground again.
“Get your ass up,” Apache said, kicking him.
Clint tried, but couldn’t seem to balance himself with his arms tied behind his back. He managed to get to his knees, then fell back to the ground.
Apache grabbed him by the arm.
“Owwww! My arm!” Clint squealed. “It must be broken.”
Apache threw him back into the chair. “How many girls you snatched?”
Clint hung his head.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“You do know. Now tell me!” Apache slugged him again and this time, Clint hit the ground, headfirst.
Instead of crying out, this time he went quiet. Then all of a sudden, his body began to spasm like a fish flopping around on dry land.
Apache jumped back. “What the fuck?”
Clint’s body finally stopped moving and he was completely still.
“You ain’t fooling nobody. Get your ass up!”
Apache was about to grab him by the arm again when Clint started writhing again. He was now turning grayish blue and foaming at the mouth.
“Fuck!”
Apache pulled out his smartphone and called Dre.
“Hey, man, this dude is having a seizure or something.”
“What did you do to him?” Dre yelled.
“All I did was hit him a couple times. He can’t even take a punch.”
“Man, you better pray that that dude don’t die.”
“He ain’t gonna die. He’s probably just fakin’?”
Dre released a string of curse words into the smartphone.
Apache grew even more nervous as he watched Clint continuing to shake and foam at the mouth. He’d shot a few dudes in his time, but he’d never hung around to watch ’em die.
“I’m gettin’ the hell out of here,” Apache said. “This pervert deserves to die.”
Dre didn’t respond.
“Did you hear me?” Apache asked. “He’s probably gonna die.”
He heard Dre inhale through the phone. “You got your throwaway cell phone with you?” he finally said.
“Always,” Apache said.
“I’m the one who got everybody mixed up in this,” Dre said. “And if he dies, all of us’ll go down. I can’t let that happen. Call nine-one-one and tell ’em where he is. The warehouse is at the end of the cul de sac at Alondra and Maple. Leave the door open, then get the hell out of there.”
Chapter 64
Day Four: 10:05 a.m.
With so many girls to watch over, it had been easy for Peaches to slip out of the back door of Harmony House unnoticed. She speed walked past all the impressive Lafayette Square mansions. Peaches wished she’d had time to look around. The only black people she knew who lived in mansions like this were on The Real Housewives of Atlanta.
When Peaches reached St. Charles Place, she started running at top speed. She got to Crenshaw and looked right, then left. She spotted a Jack ’n the Box and a Mobile gas station a block away. She jogged to the corner and repeatedly pressed the button on the traffic pole. The light finally changed and she dashed across Washington Boulevard. Thank God there was a pay phone behind t
he gas station. She called Gerald collect.
In no time at all, Peaches spotted Gerald’s shiny black Mercedes SUV with the twenty-three-inch rims.
“Hey, boo!” he said, hopping out. Gerald pulled Peaches into his arms and squeezed her tight.
He was out of his courthouse suit now and sporting jeans and a white T-shirt that came to his knees.
“I really missed you, girl. Don’t you ever leave me again, you hear?” He kissed her deeply on the lips.
Peaches felt so good when Gerald hugged her. She wanted to tell him that, but the words got stuck in her throat.
“What’s going on? The cat got your tongue. You need to tell Daddy you missed him too.”
“I missed you,” Peaches said, suddenly shy.
“You hungry? You want something to eat?”
“Yep.”
“I’ma take you to a nice restaurant.”
Peaches jumped in the car and they drove the short distance to Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles on Pico.
Gerald parked in back and took her by the hand as they walked inside the restaurant. They were seated in a back booth. He threw his arm around her shoulder and kissed her in the crook of her neck.
“I really do like that new hair of yours,” Gerald said. “You look so pretty, boo. But I gotta get you back into some sexy clothes. I like my girls to show what they workin’ with.”
Peaches stared down at her sweatpants. She’d actually gotten used to having her body covered up.
They sat on the same side of the booth, with Gerald stopping every few seconds to give her a kiss and tell her how pretty she was. Peaches couldn’t remember the last time she felt so special. This was like a real date. The other girls would be so jealous.
Peaches ordered waffles and chicken wings and Gerald had the same thing. They finished their food and walked hand-in-hand back to the parking lot. When they were seated in the SUV, Gerald reached into the backseat and pulled out a shiny gift box.
“I bought something for you, boo.”
Peaches couldn’t believe it. Gerald had never given her a present before. Not even on her birthday.
“Go ahead. Open it.”
She tore through the wrapping paper, lifted the lid and pulled out a sheer, red dress.
“That’s gonna look hot on you tonight, baby. And I don’t want you wearing nothing but flesh underneath it.”
Tonight!
Now she was really excited. Gerald was going to take her on a date too. Maybe they would go dancing. She was so lucky that he wasn’t mad at her.
“I wanna see it on you now, baby. Climb in the backseat and put it on for me.”
Peaches didn’t move.
“Did you hear what I said?” The familiar sharpness in Gerald’s voice frightened her.
Peaches climbed between the seats into the back of the SUV. She took off the sweatpants and T-shirt Loretha had given her and slipped on the sheer dress. It was low cut in the front and barely covered her rear end.
“Take them panties off,” Gerald scolded her. “I told you I didn’t want you wearing nothing underneath it.”
Peaches obeyed and pulled off her panties.
“You lookin’ good, boo,” Gerald said with pride. “You gonna make Daddy a whole lot of money wearing that.”
Peaches smiled and started to pull the dress back over her head.
“Hold up. What you doin’?”
“I’m putting my other clothes back on. I’m cold.”
“You won’t be cold after you walk around a little bit. I brought your red sandals. The ones that make your calves look big. Put them on.”
Gerald started up the car and eased out of the parking lot and into traffic. He turned right then headed south on LaBrea.
“Where we going now?” Peaches asked.
“Where do you think? We gotta make up for lost time. You know how much money you cost me pulling this mess? I had to hire me a lawyer and everything. I’m makin’ you pay me back every dime. Don’t you ever pull no crap like this again. If you do, next time I won’t beat your ass, I’ll kill you.”
Peaches was stunned into silence.
“I…I can’t work tonight,” Peaches whined.
Gerald took his eyes off the road and looked over his shoulder at her. “Why not?”
“Cuz…I’m…I’m tired.”
“Tired? I’m tired too. But we gotta eat. So you gotta work.”
He drove for close to thirty minutes, then pulled to a stop on Long Beach Boulevard. Peaches saw two other girls she knew prancing up the street in stilettos and shorts.
“Now get out there and make me some money.”
“Gerald, please. I…I can’t. It’s cold out there!”
“If you wanna get out of the cold then pick up a trick.”
Gerald climbed out, opened the back door and jerked her out of the car.
“Now get your ass out there and go get my money.”
Peaches stumbled out of the SUV, twisting her ankle as she landed hard on the curb.
“I’ll be parked across the street watching you,” Gerald warned. “And you better not let no dude run off without paying you again.”
Peaches was crying now. Crying over her sore ankle as well as how mean Gerald was treating her. She wished she was back in that courtroom. If she had another chance she would answer every one of that prosecutor’s questions.
Yes, Gerald was my pimp.
Yes, Gerald busted my lip.
Yes, Gerald treated me worse than a dog.
Peaches wobbled down the street, her teeth chattering, brushing her hands up and down her forearms to warm herself up. The cold air breezed right through her dress. Her tears only made her colder.
I’m so stupid.
Halfway down the block, she eyed the bus bench where Loretha had left her business card.
That only made her cry harder.
Chapter 65
Day Four 10:30 a.m.
Dre lay prone on his living room couch, his eyes shut, massaging his forehead. Mossy was stretched out in an arm chair across from him, his thick arms locked across his chest.
“You don’t have to say a word,” Dre said finally. “I never should’ve let Apache guard Clint. I know that.”
Truth be told, Dre wouldn’t have a problem if Clint did end up dead. Maybe subconsciously he’d left Clint with his cousin because he knew there was a good chance that Apache would kill him.
Mossy’s chest rose as he took in air. “You brought me into this to help you get your niece back. I ain’t trying to catch no murder rap.”
Dre finally met Mossy’s glare. “Okay, fine. You can leave then. If it all blows up, you were never here.”
Mossy sprang forward in his chair. “Man, it ain’t like that. We go way back and you know I would never leave you hangin’. But you also know your cousin is a fool.”
“It is what it is,” Dre said, his voice hoarse. “Hopefully, an ambulance will get him to a hospital in time.”
The silence returned, filling up the small apartment. Dre was glad that Mossy had convinced him to get some sleep. Just an hour of shut eye left him feeling re-energized.
He sat up and pulled a bottle of 5-Hour Energy from his pocket.
“Dude, you can’t drink no more of that stuff. You already got the shakes.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Look at your hands.”
Dre stared down at his trembling fingers, unwilling to believe that they were his. He set the small bottle on the coffee table and rested his head on the back of the couch.
“I’ma run over to Popeye’s to get us something to eat,” Mossy said, standing up. “If The Shepherd calls back, please don’t go off on him. Just say whatever you gotta say to get your girl back.”
When the door closed, Dre eyed his smartphone. He wanted to check on his sister, but he couldn’t face telling her he had not found Brianna yet. The smartphone suddenly began to ring as if he had somehow willed it to. He checked the display.
>
It was Donna.
Dre started rubbing his forehead again. It rang three more times before he finally answered the call.
“Hey, sis. How you doin’?”
“This ain’t your sister. It’s your mama.”
“Hey, mama. How’s Donna doin’?”
“Goin’ stone crazy. She called all the TV stations and accused ’em of racism because they wouldn’t run a story about Brianna. She calmed down a little bit after Reverend Robinson dropped by to pray with her.”
Dre hung his head.
“But what I wanna know is how are you doin’?”
“I’m fine, Mama.”
“No, you’re not. I had a bad feelin’ come over me late last night. I know you doin’ everything you can to find Brianna. I just want you to be careful.”
“I am being careful, Mama.”
“I have faith that the Lord is gonna take care of Brianna and you gotta have faith too. I don’t want you out there doing anything stupid.”
Dre grumbled. “Mama, what did Anthony tell you?”
“Nothing. I asked your brother a dozen times to tell me what you were up to, but he wouldn’t say a word. That’s how I knew you were in trouble. Then this chill just came over me. So I got down on my knees and started praying.”
When Dre was a kid, he used to think his mother was psychic. She seemed to know when something was wrong with him even before he did. He knew what was coming next. He could not handle one of his mother’s sermons right now.
“Yeah, okay, Mama. I gotta go.”
“Don’t rush me off the phone. I’m ain’t done yet.”
Dre closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I’ve never said it before,” his mother continued, “but I want you to know that I’m really proud of you. You stopped sellin’ them drugs and turned your life around. I ain’t seen too many young men do that. You turned out to be a fine young man. If your daddy was alive, he’d be proud too.”
Dre felt a lump the size of an orange expand in his throat.
“But then again,” his mother said with a chuckle, “you are my son.”
Dre laughed. Though he couldn’t bring himself to say it, he could really use a hug from him mama about now.
Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2) Page 23
