by A. C. Arthur
She didn’t remember the numbers she’d pressed, didn’t even hear him speak until he yelled.
“Leah? Is something wrong?” Terrell had recognized her number on his phone as it rang, and now he didn’t hear anything. Dread filled him and he cursed himself for being stupid enough to leave alone.
She’d been ready to tell him what was going on, ready to tell him that somebody had been in her house when she saw it.
The statue.
It sat regally in the center of her coffee table, surrounded by the same rose petals that were in her bedroom.
She moved closer to the table, closer to the African statue that Leon had given to her and picked it up. It was heavy, had always been extremely heavy, and dark, the ebony stone foreboding and dismal to her thinking. She rubbed her hand over the flattened head and felt a chill run straight down her spine.
“Terrell, you have to come quick,” was all she could manage before the phone and the statue slipped from her hands.
* * *
Terrell drove as if owned the road, his Mercedes soaring through the night streets like a sleek silver bullet. He had barely put the car in park before slamming the door and heading towards Leah’s building. The elevator moved too slow, so he ran the three flights up and then down the hall to her apartment. Using his key to let himself in, he looked frantically into the living room and found her slumped on the floor.
“Baby? Are you okay? Tell me what happened.” He was on his knees beside her, checking her arms, her legs, her face, everywhere for any injuries. She hadn’t said what was going on when she was on the phone, and each time he’d tried to call her back he’d gotten her voice mail. The last fifteen minutes had been torture, as thoughts of what could possibly be happening taunted him.
“He said the statue was from the Asante tribes in Ghana. It’s called an Akuba,” she said in a voice so small he could barely hear her.
Terrell looked down at the statue lying beside her leg. Leah stared into space as he picked it up, held the heavy stone in his hand. “Is this what you’re talking about? Where did you get it?” He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but apparently this figurine had something to do with it.
“It’s a fertility figure. It embodies the concept of beauty. He said it reminded him of me.” That, she remembered, was the only time he’d ever called her beautiful.
“Okay, baby, I don’t get where you’re going with this. Who said it reminded him of you? Where did you get this?” Terrell shook the statue in front of her face, trying to solicit a straight answer. A sick feeling swirled in the pit of his stomach.
Leah turned then, as if she’d just noticed Terrell was at her side. “It was on top of the television when we came back from Jamaica.”
Terrell put the piece down and took her hands in his. “Leah, tell me what’s going on.”
Leah shook her head vehemently. “I never keep it on the television because it’s so heavy, and I didn’t want it sitting on top of my DVD player. Then tonight,” her gaze went beyond him to the rose petals on the coffee table, “tonight it was on the coffee table. I don’t like it there either, because it’s too tall and blocks the television. I keep it over there,” she pointed, “on the bookcase.”
Terrell followed her gaze and her words. “So how did it get on the coffee table?” He asked the question but already knew the answer. “Who gave you this, Leah?”
She began to shake her head again. “He was here. He was in the bedroom, too. He came here when I was with you. Both times that I was away with you, he came here.” Her bottom lip started to quiver. “He touched my things and he walked around my house when I wasn’t here.”
Terrell pulled her to him, cradled her head and rubbed her back. He knew who she was talking about, knew who had been in her house when she was with him. He knew because he’d shook his hand right in this very living room.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As much of her clothes and personal items that Terrell could fit into the back of his car, he did.
She would not be returning to this apartment, and that was final.
Leah hadn’t even bothered to put up a fight. She didn’t want to be here—didn’t want to think of lying in that bed when he’d so obviously been in her bedroom.
They’d eaten at Ms. Rosie’s, as planned, after talking to the police again. Leah gave them a description of Leon, his address and his usual hangouts, even though she still hadn’t fully accepted it was him.
Now she was back at Terrell’s, sitting cross-legged on his new bed, waiting for him to finish with his phone call. She’d calmed down over the past few hours, even though she occasionally berated herself for not realizing sooner that Leon was unstable.
Her only defense—and it was a logical one—was that most insane people look just like the ordinary ones, making it almost impossible to tell that they’ve a screw or two loose until it’s too late.
Never in a million years would she have believed that a successful entrepreneur, an attractive, educated man, could be an obsessive stalker. All the dates she’d been on with him, all the time they’d spent alone, and the thought had simply never crossed her mind.
The negligee obviously meant sex—which she and Leon had never had. But if he still wanted to have sex with her, would he want to harm her as well? She was getting a headache trying to figure it out.
“Hey, you’re too pretty for these worry lines.” Terrell smoothed her forehead.
“You remembered I was here.” She smiled and leaned into his open arms.
“Don’t be smart, I told you I had a few calls to make. But now I’m all yours.” He ran a hand up her bare leg.
Leah sighed, let her head rest on his shoulder. “What’s going to happen now?”
“I’m going to take care of you, just like I said I would. Don’t worry.”
“My hero.” She smiled up at him.
“Of course, all beautiful ladies have to have a hero.” His hand on her leg inched its way up to her thigh.
“Mmmm,” she murmured when his fingers slipped beneath the rim of her panties. “An adventuresome hero.”
Terrell shrugged, continued on his voyage. “If you say so,” he whispered just before his fingers found her warm, pliant flesh.
“Oooohhhh, I definitely say so.”
* * *
Making love with Terrell had been the sedative she needed. Their hot shower and subsequent round two, the ultimate nightcap. Then they’d fallen asleep under the fluffy new comforter she’d helped him pick out. Now in the dark room and huge bed she reached for him, found his warm body and cuddled closer.
Then she heard it.
A whisper of movement. She froze.
Terrell was a light sleeper and, with a half-naked woman beside him, practically an insomniac. He’d heard the same thing she had, and moved beneath the covers to pull her closer.
“Shhh. Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear.
Leah nodded to let him know she understood.
Then before either of them could speak, the lights came on.
“Isn’t this cozy?” a smooth baritone cooed.
Leah couldn’t help it. She turned on her back and looked to the end of the bed where he stood.
“You get off watching other people have sex?” Terrell asked, sitting up in the bed, keeping Leah close to his side. His chest was bare, but beneath the covers he wore lounging pants.
“No. But you will,” Leon responded blithely.
He was dressed in all black, his eyes cold and hard.
“Why are you here?” Leah asked, finally letting go of her doubts. Leon was in Terrell’s bedroom. The bedroom where Terrell had just thoroughly loved her—had he really watched?
“You know why I’m here. I had to bring you this.” Leon held up the statue, the one both Leah and Terrell knew they’d left in her apartment.
“That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. If you gave me a gift like that I’d break up with you, too,” Terrell said as he prepared to
get out of the bed. From what he could see, Leon didn’t have a weapon. His eyes were dazed when he looked at Leah, his obsession clear. If he could just get him away from Leah, out of this room, he could handle him.
Leon frowned at Leah, then turned an angry glare to Terrell. “Don’t be so smug. I’m here to take what’s mine. And to get rid of what stands between us.”
Tired of the war of words, Terrell climbed out of bed. “Why don’t we just go into the other room and settle this like men?”
Leon was looking at Leah again. “I had the perfect evening all planned for us. I’ve been waiting for you to come back home. But he wouldn’t let you, would he?” He gripped the statue tighter. “That’s okay, I’ll take care of him.”
Terrell was only a step or two away when Leon turned, threw the statue on the bed and pulled a knife from the waistband of his black jeans.
Leah gasped. “Leon, this is ridiculous. What can you possibly gain from doing this? Think about your business, your brother who’s been working so hard for its success. You don’t want to throw all that away.”
“You don’t understand.” Leon looked at Leah. “I want you, Leah. It’s that simple. I want you as my wife, as the mother of my kids.”
His voice sounded calm, his words rational to any unsuspecting person, yet Terrell knew the man was teetering very close to the edge. “That’s not going to happen.” Terrell charged him, knocking the taller man to the ground.
Leah wanted to scream as the two men rolled around the floor struggling over the knife. But she refused to be like a pitiful movie heroine, crying and yelling on the bed while her man fought for his life and hers. She kicked the covers off and slid toward the nightstand, grabbing the telephone and quickly dialing 911. She didn’t take too much time explaining, only said there was someone in her house with a knife before she threw the phone onto the bed and leaped to the floor.
At the bottom of the bed she saw that Leon was on top of Terrell, the blade raised in one hand, his other hand choking Terrell. Terrell struggled to tear the hand away from his throat and also keep the knife at bay. Leah didn’t hesitate. She jumped on Leon’s back, grabbing the arm holding the knife, using all her might to try to pull him back.
When she couldn’t budge him, she bent in closer, bit into his shoulder and heard him growl in pain. Then he turned to her, leaving Terrell writhing and trying to catch his breath.
After throwing Leah backwards, Leon came after her. He grabbed her throat and pushed her up against the wall. The contact was so forceful that a picture that had been hanging came crashing down. “You’re mine! We’re meant to be. You’ll have my children and we’ll be happy. Understand?” he yelled at her.
Leah couldn’t breathe, and her vision was blurring. With each word he spoke his grip on her throat tightened. Her hands flailed wildly, trying to pull away the hand that robbed her of oxygen.
“He interfered. He showed up and threatened what we had. When I get rid of him, we’ll be happy.”
On the floor, Terrell sucked in air. He heard Leon’s voice but didn’t hear Leah’s. She had to be hurt, nothing kept her quiet for long. Grabbing at the bed, he hoisted himself up and spotted them near the door. Looking for some sort of weapon, he grabbed the statue and rushed forward.
“I love you, Leah. Don’t you understand?” Leon moaned pitifully, resting his forehead against Leah’s.
“You can’t have her!” Terrell yelled, crashing the statue against the back of Leon’s head.
Leon’s glazed eyes stared at Leah blankly for a second before he slumped over.
Terrell caught Leah and cradled her in his arms, moving them away from Leon’s limp body. “It’s okay, baby. It’s over. Come on, let’s get you out of here.” He’d come back and take care of Leon once and for all when he knew Leah was safe.
They staggered into the living room, and Terrell placed Leah on a chair, then checked for wounds.
Weeping and her chest heaving spasmodically, she managed to say, “I’m okay.” She swiped at his hands. “You, you’re bleeding.” She touched a hand to his chest where blood stood out on the honey-toned skin.
Terrell hadn’t even realized he’d been cut. “I’m fine. Just let me get to the phone.”
“I already called the police,” she said.
In the distance they heard sirens. Terrell went to the balcony to see if they were coming in this direction and discovered Seth’s limp form in a corner. He’d called Seth before he and Leah retired for the night and asked him to keep watch because Terrell had suspected Leon might make a move. Now he realized why Seth hadn’t signaled him of Leon’s arrival.
Leah heard a noise in the bedroom and stood dazedly, looking toward the room. He couldn’t be… When she heard more noise, she looked around for something else to use as a weapon but Leon was upon her too quickly.
“I’m going to kill him, and then I’ll have you all to myself!” he roared as his open palm came crashing down against her cheek.
Leah staggered back, but refused to fall. She turned her head, albeit painfully, back in his direction. “I’ll never love you, and you’ll never touch me,” she spat at him.
“Oh, I’ll touch you.” He reached out, grabbed one of her unbound breasts in his hand and squeezed until she yelped with pain. Then he grabbed her by the waist, pulled her to him, and ground his lips down on hers until Leah tasted blood. “And I’m going to have you. I’m going to have all of you.” With another slap he sent her sprawling onto the sofa, then took long strides towards the balcony.
“Oh no, Terrell,” Leah whispered as she saw the direction Leon went. “Terrell!” she finally screamed.
Terrell had been trying to revive Seth. From what he could see, there were no open wounds. Maybe Leon had drugged him or something. When he heard Leah scream, he stood, quickly turned around and caught Leon’s first blow in his face. Dazed and caught off guard, he fell into the railing. Leon immediately pounced, punching Terrell repeatedly.
With a surge of strength, Terrell pushed away from the railing, managed to swing and knock Leon through the glass balcony door. When he would have jumped on him to finish the job, Leon lifted a foot and caught Terrell in the stomach.
Terrell stumbled back again and Leon rose, tackling him, moving them out onto the balcony once more.
Leah got off the couch, remembered the knife, and went to the bedroom to find it. When she came back she saw the two men struggling on the balcony and heard the police banging at the door. They’d have to let themselves in, she decided instantly as she ran onto the balcony to help Terrell.
With adrenaline pumping madly through her veins, she raised the knife and brought it down into Leon’s shoulder. He yowled but still choked Terrell.
Terrell’s eyes were now rolling back. Frantic that Terrell was dying, Leah pulled the knife out of Leon’s shoulder and thrust it into his back, this time twisting it until his yelling increased and she felt him backing up. Releasing the knife, leaving it stuck in his back, she moved away.
At that exact moment the police broke down the door, barging in two at a time. Yelling was all around her.
Leon turned to face her, his features contorted with pain, his once dangerously handsome face now streaked with sweat and blood. Eyes she remembered gazing into hers were now tinged with insanity and misery.
“I loved you, Leah,” he gasped and took another step towards her.
Tears ran freely down her face as she realized what she’d done, what’d he’d wanted to do to her and Terrell. He reached for her. She couldn’t move, only shook her head from side to side. “No. No. I love Terrell.”
“Then you die with him!” Leon yelled and charged at her.
For the second time in her thirty years, Leah jumped at the sound of gunshots. She watched as bullets struck Leon’s broad body—he jerked this way and that until finally collapsing.
The smell of blood and gunpowder permeated the room, and Leah felt everything around her begin to spin. Then darkness closed in on h
er like a big heavy blanket, and she let herself be wrapped in it tightly, completely.
“No. Don’t touch her. Get away from her, all of you,” Terrell yelled as he picked her up, and carried her back to his bedroom and laid her limp body down.
Seth and a few of the officers followed him into the room. “The paramedics are on their way,” his friend told him.
“Just leave us alone. Come and get me when they arrive.” Terrell spoke in a broken voice as his shaking fingers brushed wild strands of hair from Leah’s face.
Seth did as he was told, motioning for the other officers to exit the room as well.
When he knew they were alone, Terrell lowered his head to her ear. “Come on, baby, wake up. Wake up and talk to me. It’s all over now, I just need you to wake up.”
It seemed so far away, his voice calling her name as if she were in a dark tunnel. But somewhere ahead, somewhere far ahead, was a light and in that light was Terrell’s voice. She moaned with the pain but moved her legs anyway. She had to get to him. She had to get to Terrell. He was calling her, he wanted her, he loved her.
Her head moved side to side on the pillow, even as her lips trembled and tears ran down her face.
The paramedics barged into the room the second her eyes opened and she screamed, “Terrell!”
“I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”
Her eyes focused on his and she smiled through her tears.
“I’m not leaving you, sweetie. Everything’s okay now,” he soothed as the paramedics moved toward the bed to get a closer look at her.
With a shaky hand Leah fingered the broken glasses that hung awkwardly on his face. “There was something somebody said about relationships starting under high pressure situations. I wonder what that was?” she asked in a creaky voice.
Terrell grinned. “That they last forever and ever.”
EPILOGUE
Nine months later.
The sun had just begun its descent, and the sky was a fiery ensemble of red and orange. Beneath the rose-encrusted archway and with the gentle tropical breeze blowing all around them, Terrell and Leah took their vows.
