by Mz. Robinson
After the phone rang several times Amel finally answered.
“Yes,” she said, sounding agitated.
“Amel this is Octavia from the Ambiance.”
“Hi Octavia,” she said, sounding happy.
“How are you?” I asked, relieved that she sounded alright.
“Good and you?”
“I’m fine,” I said.” Thanks for asking.”
“How is everyone down there?”
“They’re fine,” I said, wondering if she really cared.
“Good.”
“Listen, Amel,” I said, getting straight to the point.” Your mother called.”
“How is she?” She asked, quickly.
“Not good. She misses you.”
“I miss her, too,” she whispered.
“She wants you to call her.”
“I- I want to but…”
“She’s not mad with you,” I said, reassuring her.” She just wants to hear your voice.”
“I wish I could, Octavia but I can’t,” She whispered.
There was something not right about the way she was acting. I decided to find out what was really going on.
“Listen Amel I want to mail you your final paycheck,” I said, changing the subject.” Why don’t you give me your new address?”
“Something is wrong with my mailbox,” she said, hesitantly. “I’m want to get a post office box but I keep forgetting.”
“Would you rather I drop it off?” I asked.
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds then she said softly,” Yes, please.”
“What’s the address?”
“Seven eighty-five Montclair,” she whispered.
I wrote the address down next to her home number. “When is a good time?” I asked her.
“Today,” she said quickly.” After five.”
“I’ll be there at five thirty…”
“Goodbye,” I said, hanging up the phone.
I pulled up to the beautiful town home at seven eighty five Montclair at exactly five thirty that afternoon. Amel’s Escalade was the only car in the driveway, so I figured that Beau was gone.
When Amel opened the front door I was taken aback by her appearance. She was wearing a pair of black worn sweats with no shoes. Her weave needed to be redone desperately. I could see the threads and the tracks. She wore it pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. She still had the same round, almond colored face but her skin was chaffed and ashy. She greeted me with a hug and told me to come in.
I followed her into the living room of the well decorated home. Sitting on the small plush loveseat, I watched as she sat down on the matching sectional in the room.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Okay,” she said, fidgeting with her short fingernails.
“Are you sure?”
“I guess.”
“How is Beau?”
She looked down at her nails and then looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“Fine,” she said, softly.
There was a pregnant pause between the two of us. “Why haven’t you called your mother?” I asked. Shrugging her shoulders, she looked away from me.
“Is it because of him?” I asked, trying to get her to open up. She continued to stare off in space not answering the question.
“Amel what’s wrong?” I asked, concerned.
Looking at me with tears streaming down her face she said, “I’m real fucked up right now. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
She pushed the sleeves of her sweatshirt up then crossed her arms across her chest.
“I can’t help you Amel if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” I said, gently.
Her eyes searched mine as if she was searching for sincerity. Then she held her arms out with her palms up. My heart saddened as I looked at the purple bruises and small scars. They were from the needles she had been using to shoot up.
“Heroin,” she mumbled.
“Beau gave you heroine,” I stated.
“I didn’t say that,” she snapped, her eyes wide.
“I’m asking.”
“I didn’t get it from Beau.”
Bullshit! He probably was supplying her with the crap. I looked at her letting her know I knew she was covering for him. “Is he living here?” I asked.
“No but he comes over a lot,” She said, fidgeting with a piece of lint on her pants.
“When is he coming back?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said sadly. “He told me he was going out of town for a little while.”
“What would he do if you weren’t here when he came back?”
She stared at me with childlike eyes and then said, “I can leave if I want.”
“Then why don’t you?” I asked, firmly.
“Because I love him,” she said, without hesitation. ‘And if I leave he’ll move on without me.”
“If he does then maybe it’s not meant to be.” I countered.
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “He’s good to me,” She sniffed. “Better than any man’s ever been.”
“I understand that but you can’t keep messing with that stuff,” I said, referring to her drug habit. “It can kill you.”
“I know,” she mumbled, rubbing the marks on her arms. “But I’ll kill myself if I have to live without him.”
I took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. The look of desperation in her eyes frightened me. I had no idea what she saw in Beau but whatever it was it had her trippin’.
“A man wants a woman who has her shit together,” I told her. “You won’t keep him if you keep living like this.”
We talked a little longer until she finally agreed to admit herself into a rehab program. During our entire conversation she kept saying that she didn’t want to disappoint Beau. She said she didn’t want to let him down. That he was so good to her and that he took care of her. It was like the girl had been brainwashed. I hoped and prayed that my intervening would help her see that she didn’t have any of her current problems until she met him and that she was better off with him out of her life.
Despite my better judgment, I agreed to pick up Amel on Friday. I wanted to persuade her to check herself in that same night but I was afraid that if I pushed her too hard she would change her mind. I also agreed to wait until Friday on the condition that she would call her mother and let her know she was alright. She kept her end of the bargain so I gave her a hug and told her I would see her on Friday.
I couldn’t shake the feeling I had about Beau treating Amel’s problem. I knew that she was too loyal to him to see who he really was. I knew the only way I was going to get information on him was if I went through another source.
I figured that if I met him at Erica’s and Tim’s reception then one of them should be able to tell me what I wanted to know.
“Octavia, how are you?”
“I’m fine Erica and how are you?”
“Wonderful,” she giggled.” I love the married life.”
“That’s good,” I said, sincerely. I smiled when I thought about Damon and I getting married one day. “How is Tim?” I asked.
“He is the best husband ever!”
“I’m glad everything is going well,” I said.” But there is a reason I’m calling.”
“What’s that?”
“There was a guy at your wedding. He was dark-skinned with braids.”
“Beau.” Her happy upbeat tone went cold when she said his name.
“Yeah,” I said, sounding clueless. “He wanted me to cater a party for him. He’s been calling my office leaving me messages to call him but I’ve misplaced his number.”
“Don’t do it,” she warned me.” He is bad news.” I waited for her to elaborate. She didn’t.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Clearing her throat, Erica said in a low voice,” Octavia, I don’t want to start anything.”
“You won’t be,” I tried to reassure her.” But
if there is something I should know.” I waited for her response.
“Okay,” she said.” His real name is Broderick Malone and he’s my sister Stephanie’s ex-boyfriend.” I wasn’t aware that Erica even had a sister.
“Was she at the reception?”
“No,” I heard the tears in Erica’s voice.” My sister died four years ago.”
I felt a rush of sympathy for the woman on the other end of the phone.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
“He killed her, Octavia.” Her words almost knocked me out off my chair.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“He killed my sister.”
“What…what happened,” I stuttered.
“They found her body in a dumpster in Brooklyn.”
Silence.
“The two of them met while Stephanie was a sophomore at NYU,” She continued.” At first, Stephanie wanted nothing to do with him. She was all about her education and he-well he was all about selling.”
“She sensed he was trouble,” she said, “But she was young and he had money, you know how that goes.”
“Yeah,” I said, thinking of Amel.
“For the first month, everything was cool,” She said. “But then Beau became too possessive. He wanted to consume all of Stephanie’s time, he was obsessed with her.”
“So she broke it off,” Erica said.” She told him they were moving too fast.”
“How did he take it?”
“He lost his mind,” She said, her voice shaking.” He started calling every hour on the hour and following her around. Then one night he broke into her apartment and beat her up.”
“Did he go to jail?”
“No the police couldn’t prove it was him,” She cried. “But I know he did it.”
The incident in my apartment replayed in my head. I was lucky that he only scared my ass.
“What happened after that?” I asked. I hated to take Erica back through all of the pain she must have felt but I had to know the truth.
“He stayed away for a few weeks but somehow he convinced her to take him back. They started dating again and that’s when she got pregnant.”
Erica cleared her throat; then continued. “She was twenty years old, pregnant, and miles away from home. I tried to convince her to move back here but she said that’s not what Beau wanted.”
“It was like everything revolved around what Beau said,” she said. “Then one night when Steph was six months pregnant, she called me and said she was coming home.”
“She left him,” I assumed.
“I thought she had,” Erica said, sadly.” But when she left New York, he came too. Steph said she thought the move would be good for the two of them. She said they would have a fresh start with their new baby. Beau even claimed he had changed. He bought them a brand new house and started working on opening up his own club.”
“But in my mind,” she said,” I knew he was the same person. I just thought with having Stephanie here I could get her away from him. Every day I tried to convince her to move in with me but she wouldn’t. That is until one day he saw her out talking with an old friend from high school and Beau went off.”
“What did he do?” I asked, hanging on her every word.
“He beat the guy unconscious,” she said. “That’s when Stephanie left him and came to live with me. Everything appeared to be going well. She agreed to go back to school after the baby was born and she was happy. I thought I finally had my sister back but one day I came home and found a note from her stating she was going to New York with Beau for a few days.”
“Not forty-eight hours later, “She said, crying. “Beau called to say she was missing. The very next day a homeless man found her body in a dumpster outside of a crack house.” Chills ran across my body as Erica explained. “Her stomach was cut open. They took her baby and left Stephanie to bleed to death.”
My stomach was churning and I felt like I was going to throw-up. “Did they find the baby?” I asked my voice low.
“Yes, she was with a known crack head they called Brenda,” She said.” Brenda came forward and said she killed Stephanie and was going to sell her baby but her conscience wouldn’t let her do it.”
“Did the baby die?” I asked, slowly.
“No, she survived,” she said. “She’s four now. Her name is Brittany and she looks just like Stephanie.”
“Beau has full custody,” Erica said, angry. “He brought her back to Huntsville with him. The fucking police didn’t even look at him as a suspect. He’s here with a new life raising my sister’s daughter and it’s not fair. They even made Stephanie out to be a druggie.”
“What?”
“When they did the autopsy they said they found traces of crack in her body,” she said. “They said that would explain why she was on the wrong side of town late at night, but I know if anything was in my sister’s system it’s because he drugged her.”
“I even went to see Brenda in jail,” she continued,” She told me she didn’t do it and that she was framed.”
“Was Brenda convicted?”
“No, she never made it trial. She overdosed on heroin in her jail cell.”
I talked with Erica for another hour. During that time, she explained that Beau claims his current business is legit but she’s almost positive that he’s still dirty. I had no idea who I was dealing with but if Beau was the person Erica made him out to be then he would own up to his words; “I’m a man who always gets what he wants.”
I was not going to sit around and wait for him to make good on his promise, so I called the only person I knew that could help take care of the situation.
Chapter 36
“Why didn’t you come to me when this all started?”
I felt like a little girl sitting in front of my father. The two of us were sitting in my parent’s dining room. I had made sure Mama wouldn’t be home so that I could tell Daddy about my problem without her getting all worked up.
“I don’t know,” I said, sincerely. “I thought I could handle it.” The truth was I didn’t want my Father to know that I had let Beau tap my ass.
Rubbing the hair on his chin, Daddy gave me a stern look. “So this brother, Beau was once a hustler on the east coast?” He asked.
“That’s what Erica said.”
“And she thinks he killed her sister?” I nodded my head. “And Sasha use to work for him?” I nodded again.
“And she allegedly died from a heroin overdose.”
“Yes.”
I watched as his brown eyes got dark and cold.
“I know some people,” he said. “From way back.”
“Let me see what I can find out,” he said.
Reaching across the table for his hand, I smiled.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I said.
Taking my hand in his he asked,” Does Damon know about this?”
Frowning I shook my head and slowly said,” No.”
“It’s better if you tell him,” he said.” You don’t want him to find out the wrong way.”
“I know.”
I knew Daddy was speaking the truth, but I had no intentions of telling Damon anything about Beau. What Damon didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me.
Chapter 37
Damon left for the airport early Friday morning to catch a flight to California. He was going to be gone for two weeks, working in Nomad’s LA office. I started feeling lonely just thinking about not having him next to me, but business was business.
I planned to handle some business of my own while he was gone. For one, I planned to start looking for furnishings for our new home. I also wanted to start planning our wedding. The two of us had yet to set a wedding date mainly because Damon was giving me time to decide when I was ready. The truth be told I was already ready; I just had to make sure Beau was out of our lives. But first, I was going to get Amel checked into Harper Recovery Center.
Harper was the best substance abuse treatment center in the city
. They were also the most expensive, but I wanted Amel to have the best possible help available.
I held my breath as Amel opened the door to her townhouse to let me in. She looked much better than she had the last time I saw her. Her hair looked fresh like she had just left the salon and she was wearing a figure flattering white pants suit with a pair of gold Gucci pumps. If I hadn’t already seen the scars from her using I would have thought she didn’t have a problem. I saw the two Gucci suite cases sitting by the front door and I exhaled. I had been afraid that she was going to change her mind about treatment.
“I’m ready,” she said, timidly.
“Are you sure?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.
The ride to Harpers was a quiet one until Amel’s cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and then answered. She had a huge smile across her face. The first person who came to my mind was Beau.
“Hello.”
“Where are you, Boo?” She whined.
“I thought you were going to come with me.”
“Why?”
“You promise?”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“Bye.”
I stared ahead at the road wondering if she had told Beau I was with her.
“Beau says hi,” she smiled, looking over at me. Question answered.
“How is he?” I asked.
“Fine,” She said, cheerfully.” He promised to come visit me every week.”
I looked at the happiness on her face and smiled, knowing that Beau had made her a promise he probably never intended to keep.
The faculty and staff at Harper assured Amel and me that she had made the right decision by choosing their facility. She signed up for an intense ninety day rehabilitation program. They told me at some point in time during her treatment she would hate me and probably anyone who wanted her to get clean. I told them I didn’t care if she hated me for the rest of her life. If being in Harper was going to help Amel rediscover herself and stay clean that was all that mattered.
