“I’ll hit you off with some paper to take care of that little situation. You’re not that far along. You can still get rid of it,” Mizan stated. “The rest of it ain’t my problem.” His words were cold and carefully calculated. They broke Raven down to the ground and stung her naïve heart. She clutched her stomach as if he had punched her in it, and then held on to the porch railing for support.
Seeing her sister cry was tearing Morgan up, and tears began to slide down her young cheeks as she grasped Raven’s hand tightly.
Mizan smirked. He had broken her. He had shattered her heart to the point that not even God himself could put the pieces back together. He had torn her down; now it was time to build her back up. It was his way of letting her know who was boss. She needed to understand that her happiness depended on him. She felt what he made her feel. Fuck everybody else. He needed to be the only one who mattered. Her world now revolved around him. He reached for her and she fell into his chest, sobbing hysterically.
“Why you doing this to me, Rae? You did this, ma,” Mizan said soothingly. “You got your baby sister out here crying.”
“I love you,” she bawled.
“You love me?” he asked rhetorically. He rubbed her back gently. “I love you too, Rae. You got to act right, though, ma. You can’t push me to the edge. You got to cater to your man, Rae. I’m your king, right?”
She lifted her eyes and nodded in agreement.
“You belong to me?” he asked.
“You know I do,” Raven said. “You just hurt me, Mizan. You told me you would never do that and then you hit me. I know I made you do it, but I’m sorry.”
Mizan’s smoky eyes burned deeply into Raven’s, then he put his hand on the small of her back and led her inside. Mission accomplished, he thought. “Unpack your stuff. Your sister can sleep in the second room,” he said.
Just like that, Mizan had lured her right back. It wasn’t the first time he had manipulated her young mind, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Her father had birthed a diva and gave her all of the makings to become a hustler’s wife. Unfortunately, she had fallen for the wrong type and he had no intentions of putting her on the throne next to his. Mizan was going to keep her beneath his feet. Her life as she knew it was about to change for the worse and would never be the same again.
Phase 2
Five Years Later
Chapter Twelve
“I can’t do this,” Raven whispered as she stared down at the body in front of her. Her hand shook nervously as she pointed the .45-caliber pistol toward the bed. “I can’t,” she reiterated as she put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from throwing up.
“Bitch, you can ... you have to,” Nikki urged. “It’s the only way. You know what he will do to you if you don’t take care of it now. It’s never going to stop.”
Raven closed her eyes and thought about all the bullshit that Mizan had taken her through. The black eyes, bloody lips, the unbelievable heartache. Her emotions were torn because at one time she had really loved him. He had rescued her and protected her from everything that had ever hurt her in this world, but one day that protection transformed into control. His love had turned to hate, and her love had turned into regret. Just pull the trigger, she thought. It’ll all be over soon.
Raven’s arm shook so badly that she couldn’t get her aim right. Nikki stepped behind her and placed her hand over Raven’s. “Just pull the trigger,” she whispered.
Raven closed her eyes. Her finger wrapped tightly around the trigger and before she could talk herself out of it ...
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The kickback of the gun caused Raven to drop it in fear, and her wide eyes filled with terror as she thought about what she had just done.
“There ain’t no turning back now,” Nikki whispered. “Let’s just finish this and get out of here.”
Raven retrieved the gun and picked up the cans of gasoline. Nervous energy filled her body and sweat poured down her face as she hurriedly doused the entire room. She poured gasoline on the sheets, on the body, all over the floor and walls.
“Go and get the other rooms. We have to make sure this house burns to the ground,” Raven said, her voice distant, but her tone authoritative.
Nikki rushed out of the room and the pair made sure every surface of the house was covered in the flammable liquid.
They met at the door; Raven’s bags were already packed. It was obvious that this murder had been a long time coming. It was planned carefully. Premeditated. Callous.
“You ready?” Raven asked.
Nikki nodded as she pulled a book of matches out of her back pocket. She struck one, igniting a tiny stick of flame.
Raven watched eagerly, anticipation filling her chest as Nikki tossed the match. The fire spread quickly, blazing a trail in every direction, while Raven stood in the doorway, hypnotized by the flame.
“This could’ve been me,” she whispered. “All the shit I’ve let him do to me ... that could have been me in there.”
Nikki tugged at Raven’s arm. “But it’s not you, Raven. You made your move first. You’re going to win. He has consumed your life ever since you were seventeen. It’s payback time and karma’s a bitch. Mizan deserves everything he’s getting,” Nikki urged.
Raven nodded reluctantly as she backed off the porch.
“Let’s go!” Nikki yelled as they hopped into the car.
Raven slowly pulled away from the house. It was 3:00 A.M. so no neighbors were awake to see them make their exit; all they had to do was drive away. Raven looked into her rearview mirror as the flames engulfed the house and danced playfully against the pitch black sky.
“We did it!” Nikki screamed in excitement.
“We did it,” Raven repeated as she focused her eyes on the road.
Raven sat up in her bed, her body covered in sweat as her eyes danced frantically around the room. Putting a sweaty palm to her breasts, she tried to gain composure of herself and calm her racing heart. The silhouette of Mizan’s body lay next to her. He was very much alive and sleeping soundly as murderous thoughts commanded her mind. If he could read her thoughts he wouldn’t be so placid. This same dream plagued her around the same time every year. It was the anniversary of the day she had given birth to a stillborn child. It was on that day that a great sadness took over her life. The constant beatings that Mizan had bestowed upon her had undoubtedly killed the baby that had grown inside of her stomach. “Trauma to the womb” was what the doctors had said. Ever since, her hatred for Mizan had only grown, but it was too late to leave. He had convinced her to pledge her allegiance to him when she was just a little girl. At seventeen, she had no clue what she was getting herself into, and now she was too involved to be set free.
Oddly, she still loved Mizan. He was all she knew, and on the days they were good, they were so good. He was the perfect man if she caught him on the perfect day and in the perfect mood. The only problem was that relationships are imperfect and no matter how hard Raven tried, she just was not able to please him all the time.
Financially he took care of her and provided the best for Morgan, but emotionally and mentally he was a tyrant. By giving him control over her early on, she had set the precedent and had given him permission to reign over her life. She was torn down the middle because a part of her hated him to the core, but the other half loved him without remorse. It was that part mixed with fear that forced her to stay. Those things acted as invisible chains and kept her enslaved to Mizan’s manipulation. He had gotten so deep into her head that now only his thoughts remained. Her free will was nonexistent, and the only place where she had control of her life was in her dreams.
From the outside looking in having taken over her life was lovely. Mizan ran the city, over the late Benny Atkins’ lucrative drug operation. He was filthy rich with plenty money. He could have retired from the game by now, but the power was what kept Mizan going. He thrived on it, and he covered his abusive behavior toward Raven with shopp
ing sprees and a lavish lifestyle. Many women had tried to take her spot. They wanted the four thousand-square-foot roof Mizan kept over Raven’s head, but what they did not know was that it was simply a fancy version of a prison. Raven had learned the hard way that everything that glittered was not gold. She couldn’t run if she tried. He kept her broke. She had no access to any real money. The money that she had gotten from Ethic all those years ago had quickly been spent on frivolous things, leaving her completely dependent on Mizan. Whatever she wanted he took her to purchase, and if he was too busy to accompany her on her many shopping trips, he sent one of his workers to make the transaction on his behalf. The only money she was allowed to handle was from the monthly pickups from his stash houses. But his dough was well accounted for and she did not dare lift a dollar of his monthly profit. She was trapped. Mentally he had her. Financially he owned her. Emotionally he commanded her. The mysterious allure of Mizan had faded away, and now the reality of her situation was almost too much for her to handle. At twenty-two, Raven was nothing like the vibrant and daring teenage girl she had been when they had first met. Now she was reserved, timid, and obedient. The thirst she had for the streets when she was younger was gone. She had seen all that it required to be wifey and now she resented the position. How could I have been so stupid to ask for this life? she asked herself.
Raven pulled back the covers and slowly eased out of the bed. Her feet sank into the plush carpet as she made her way out of the room. She peeked in on Morgan and found her resting soundly. Raven walked in silently, not wanting to interrupt her sister’s peaceful slumber. She was envious because peace was so unfamiliar. She hadn’t felt that in quite some time. As she observed the slight smile on Morgan’s eleven-year-old face, she imagined the sweet dreams that came along with a naïve view of the world. How nice it must be, she thought. Raven’s nights were restless and paranoid because she did not fully trust the man she lay next to. Raven pulled the covers up around Morgan’s shoulders, then tightened her robe as she sat down in the corner rocking chair.
She could pinpoint the moment her life began to go into a downward spiral. Her hard head and grown attitude had led her to Mizan. If she had listened to her father all those years ago, her life would be so much different ... so much better. She sat in that same spot all night, thinking of how she had chased the fast life, causing her to grow up way too quickly. She rocked back and forth, pondering her life until daylight crept through the venetian blinds.
The ringing phone caused Raven to jump out of her sleep. She rushed to the kitchen to answer it before it disturbed Mizan.
“Hello?” she answered quietly, keeping her eyes trained on her closed bedroom door.
“You have an automated call from, Justine, her mother’s voice came through the phone announcing herself and then the digital voice continued. “This is a call from a prisoner at Huron Valley Correctional Facility. If you would like to accept this call, press pound. If this is a harassing call and you would like to block further correspondence from this prisoner ... . ”
Raven desperately wanted to accept the charges and hear her mother’s voice. It had been too long since they had last spoken, but she knew that Mizan would have a fit if he saw the call on their monthly phone bill. He had forced her to cut all ties with her past life. At first she refused to let her mother go, but Mizan had forced her to. As long as she kept communicating with Justine, Mizan made her mother’s time in prison hell. He refused to stock her commissary until finally Raven broke down and accepted his terms. As long as she didn’t talk to her mother, he would keep the commissary full and reach out to his connections inside to make sure she was protected.
Raven hung up the phone. Justine had been trying to reach out to her more than usual, and Raven told herself that this was the last time she intended on ignoring her. She was determined to see her mother. “I have to see her,” she whispered.
“See who?”
Raven jumped out of her skin at the sound of Mizan’s voice behind her. “Oh ... um ... Nikki. I have to go see her and make sure she is doing okay,” Raven lied quickly. Nikki was one of the few people Mizan allowed her to see.
“You wake baby girl up for school yet?” Mizan asked.
Raven cringed. “Please don’t call her that. That is what my father used to call me.” Her eyes shifted to the floor as memories of her dad flashed in her mind. She lifted her head, a fresh pool of tears threatening to fall.
Mizan scoffed, disregarding her request with a hard stare. “Baby girl!” he yelled while still looking at Raven. “Wake up, baby girl.” He was mocking her.
Raven gripped the kitchen sink so tightly that her pale skin turned red. Sometimes he purposely tried to hurt her. She could deal with the physical punches. Those were only dished out in the heat of the moment. It was the emotional jabs he took at her daily that were unbearable. She could never understand his cruelty. She told herself that it had to stem from somewhere, but he never opened up enough with her to divulge the information.
She listened as Mizan woke up Morgan. Her baby sister adored Mizan and Raven fully understood why. With her, he was so charming, almost the same way he used to be with Raven when they had first met. Time had changed everything between them. Mizan became arrogant and more possessive with each passing day. It was his world and she was simply living in it.
He seems to forget that he didn’t have shit when I first met him. If it weren’t for me he would still be sticking niggas up. He came up off of my father, she thought snidely as she went to get herself dressed.
She had sacrificed her dignity all in the name of love, and as she looked in the mirror she could see the sadness in her face. Chicks envied her. They wanted to have the olive-colored Chanel pencil skirt and white ruffled blouse. They craved the Gucci stilettos on her feet and the Lexus tag on her key chain. They wanted it all and she would gladly give it up to regain her freedom or restore a piece of her old self. She grabbed her bag out of the closet, and as she was putting in her diamond stud earrings, Mizan came waltzing into the room.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“I told you I have to go see Nikki. After I drop Mo off at school, I’m going to do lunch with Nik,” Raven explained. She broke her day down to him play by play, purposely leaving out the trip she planned to make to Ypsilanti to see her mother. It was only an hour drive. He’ll never know, she thought as she looked into the mirror and added more makeup to cover an old bruise that had turned green.
“What about yo man? he asked. “Where do I fit in your plans today?”
Raven turned to face him. “I did not know you wanted to be with me. I barely see you some days. I thought you might be busy. Can we meet back up later tonight?”
Mizan’s silence spoke volumes. He put her last on his priority list every day, but having her put him on the back burner aroused his suspicions.
“You getting real dressed up just to go see Nikki,” Mizan said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I dress like this every day. You’re just never home long enough to notice,” she replied. “Everything in my closet is name-brand. Besides, I like this outfit.”
Mizan stalked over to her and pinned her against the dresser, causing her things to spill to the floor. “I didn’t ask you what you liked,” Mizan seethed through clenched teeth. He gripped the sides of her face, causing her lips to form a pout. “Take this off and put on something old. If you’re going to see Nikki it don’t matter what the fuck you wearing.”
“Okay ... okay, babe,” she whispered submissively as he used all of his weight to manhandle her, mushing her face against the mirror. This wasn’t a big enough issue for her to fight, so she conceded in an attempt to calm him down and keep the peace. A small situation like that could easily blow up into a huge fight with him, and most times he won, leaving her with a new scar or bruise.
He didn’t let her go until Morgan knocked at the door, snapping him out of his controlling trance. Her incessant knocking let Raven know
that Morgan had felt the vibrations of their fight. She couldn’t hear, but she knew when her sister was in trouble.
“She’s ready for school,” Raven sobbed as she scrambled to her closet to change clothes.
She felt Mizan behind her, but she didn’t turn around. He threw a few hundred dollar bills at her and they fell onto the closet floor at her feet. “Go buy yourself something to wear tonight. We’re going out,” he said simply, his ignorant way of apologizing for his actions. She ignored him. “Oh, so you too good to pick up my money?” he antagonized. Raven sighed and got on her knees to pick up the cash. “What do you say?”
“Thank you,” Raven whispered through clenched teeth.
She put on a Juicy Couture sweatsuit and turned to him to see if he approved. When he did not comment she assumed it was okay. She fixed her ruffled hair, pulling it back into a long ponytail, then hurried out of the house.
Morgan was lost in her daydreams as she stared out the passenger window, but Raven knew she was well aware of what had gone down. She always knew when Raven and Mizan fought. The tension in the house was always so thick that her senses picked up on it with ease. Raven wished that she could take Morgan and move away. It was not healthy for Morgan to grow up around all of the arguing and fighting. Her parents had not exposed them to an unhealthy male/female relationship, and she felt bad for presenting one to Morgan now that they were gone. She never wanted her little sister to think that it was acceptable for a man to put his hands on her.
She turned Morgan’s chin toward her, forcing her to look her in the face. “I know you heard what happened back there, Morgan. I want you to know that Mizan is foul for the way he treats me. No woman deserves to be hit. Do you hear me?” she asked as she drove to Brownell Elementary School.
Moth to a Flame Page 15
