I’d practiced what I was going to say, over and over again, but I didn’t know if I could get the words out. I would be unmasking myself and coming out of the shadows. There would be no mistaking that I knew her husband after this, and I had no idea how Fatima might respond to having her new life snatched from underneath her.
Uncertainty almost made me run away from the line. Determination to end this thing kept me there.
When it was my turn, Fatima greeted me with a bright smile. “Praise the Lord. Do you need a small turkey or a large one?”
I shook my head.
“Did you not need a turkey?” Fatima asked.
“No. I’d like to speak to you privately. Can you help me with something?”
The trembling in my voice wasn’t an act. I was nervous as hell doing this. What if this girl was as demented as her husband? Maybe she’d stayed with him because she liked who he was.
“Well, today is the turkey giveaway, but I can get you connected with some of our other ministry partners if you have a different need.”
I leaned forward over the table and brought my face right up next to Fatima’s. “I need to talk to you about Alexander and his toys. Especially the taser that he used to incapacitate me before he raped me,” I whispered.
She leaned back and stared at me with wide eyes. Her partner at the table looked at me with suspicion as I moved back to my starting position. I waited to see what would happen next. I’d only planned it this far.
“Is everything okay?” Fatima’s partner asked her.
Fatima nodded. “Yes, but can you call up another one of the volunteers to work my spot for a minute. I would like to go and pray with this young lady.”
A smile teased the corners of my mouth. Maybe this would go the way I needed it to go.
Fatima came out from behind the table, took my hand and led me into the church. I followed in silence. She took me into a small room that said Prayer Closet on the front of the door. Except I didn’t think we were going to be praying in there.
“Who are you?” Fatima asked. “You know me and my husband, so who are you? Are you one of the ladies from the homeless shelter also?”
She sounded . . . jealous. Like a woman confronting her husband’s mistress. I looked at the knob on the door and for a second thought of aborting the mission.
“No, I’m not. I’m actually a very wealthy woman. Your husband does not discriminate.”
“You say he raped you? When?”
“Two years ago.”
“Impossible. We’ve been together for four.”
“Do you think he stopped being a rapist after you married him? You might have empowered him, you know. Validated him in a way.”
“I did no such thing. I just gave him every nasty thing he’s ever wanted.”
“Let me guess, he ties you up and puts you in a cage. Sometimes he hits you with whips. Sometimes with brushes.”
“Lower your voice,” Fatima said. “We’re on the church grounds.”
“Sometimes he still uses his taser on you, doesn’t he? He simulates rape until he just can’t take it anymore and then he goes out and gets the real thing.”
Tears poured down Fatima’s cheeks. If everything I said wasn’t true, it was damn sure close enough to the truth.
“He raped me at a swingers’ club.”
“Then he will just say you wanted him.”
I nodded. “You’re correct. You can see my problem now. I’ve thought about taking him to the authorities, but I don’t know if a jury would get outraged enough about what happened to me. There would be at least one person on the jury who thought I’d asked for it by going to that club.”
“Maybe you did ask for it.”
“Except I didn’t. And neither did you when you were homeless and looking for help from a man who was supposed to be a minister. He exploited you for his sick depravity, and he still is.”
Fatima sobbed and shook. I wanted to comfort her but couldn’t bring myself to touch her. Not when she was lowkey defending Alexander.
“He bought me a house, gave me a ring. We have a daughter together.”
“What if he turns his attention to your little girl?”
“No. He wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t like little girls.”
I swooned in the tight space. This woman was just as broken as she was when she was living in the homeless shelter. She just had somewhere to lay her head every night.
“You’re right. He likes helpless pitiful women.”
I opened the door to the prayer closet. I was done with this conversation. This was a mistake. This woman couldn’t help me.
I wasn’t helpless or pitiful. Not anymore. And Alexander Adams was about to find out just how strong I was.
Chapter 42
KIMBERLY
It was five o’clock in the morning on Thanksgiving, and Kimberly was already up and cooking. She’d done all of the baking on Tuesday and Wednesday, but Thanksgiving Day was when all the magic happened. Hahna was there, but she seemed barely awake.
“Is there a reason why onions, bell peppers, and celery need to be chopped before the sun rises?” Hahna asked. “I’m still sleepy, and it was all cozy with Sam in the bed.”
“They have to be chopped this early, because they go in more than one dish,” Kimberly explained patiently.
She was used to reluctant sous chefs. Especially in the morning. Hahna would be fine once she thawed out.
“Where’s Twila?” Kimberly asked. “How’d she get off the hook for this?”
“I went to wake her up, and she wasn’t there. Maybe she spent the night at DeAndre’s house.”
“They’ve gotten to sleepover status? I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know either. Even after she gave him some, she came back to my house.”
“Did you try calling her? You aren’t worried?” Kimberly asked.
“She is an adult, Kim. I don’t think we have a reason to be worried . . . unless . . .”
Kimberly set the bowl of smoked turkey necks on the countertop and turned to face Hahna. There was a lot going on with Twila. Some of it that Hahna wasn’t telling.
“Unless? What the hell, Hahna.”
“So, the guy, the rapist . . . she’s found out all this information. Where he goes to church, that he has a wife and kid, and also . . . that he probably raped his wife prior to marrying her.”
Kimberly glared at Hahna. She’d picked a hell of a time to stop telling secrets. Twila had been a loose cannon since the rape happened. There was no way they shouldn’t have been monitoring her every move once Twila had those revelations.
“You don’t think we should be keeping our eyes on her? Making sure she doesn’t do something crazy?”
Hahna rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mama Kim. She’s in therapy and she’s dealing with her issues. I honestly think she’s close to going to the authorities. Now that she has some evidence that this wasn’t a one off, and that he’s done it before.”
“If she doesn’t show up in a few hours, I’m asking Ron to go out looking for her.”
“That’s crazy. Where are you gonna send him? To her office? To the gym? She probably went to work out and will be back in bed in a couple of hours.”
“You’ll call Sam to see if she came back to the house?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
Kimberly wasn’t insulted at all by being called a mother hen. Oh well. Twila was fragile, and she’d been dealing with a trauma that she hadn’t told anyone about until recently. The fact that she hadn’t moved back home yet showed that she was still in a precarious state. Precarious with Twila equaled the potential for violence.
“Is Samantha coming today?” Hahna asked.
“Maybe. Thank you for talking to her. I don’t know what you said, but she’s back on board for the wedding.”
“I just told her that we would have some of the bridal party meetings at the church. We’re meeting in the middle.”
“Did yo
u tell Traci and Abena they were going to have to go to the church?”
“No, not yet. I’ll deal with them when the time comes. I think they’ll be cool with it. They’re a lot more flexible than Samantha is, that’s for sure.”
“Thank you, Hahna. I appreciate you so much for taking the lead in all this.”
Hahna put her piles of onion, celery, and pepper into separate storage baggies. She took a long sip from her coffee and looked relaxed. Kimberly laughed at her. The work was only getting started. It wasn’t break time yet.
“Now, you can get those yams over there and peel them.”
Hahna looked at the mountain of washed yams in the pan and groaned. “How many people are you trying to feed?” she asked.
“Believe it or not, the yams shrink down small when they cook. That pile of yams will serve all of us with just a few left-overs.”
“Twila’s gonna show up when all the hard work is done, I see,” Hahna said.
“It’s okay. We’ll make her put the food away and clean up.”
Hahna smiled. “Perfect.”
* * *
At around ten o’clock, Kimberly was in the full swing of activity. Pots were bubbling, and the kitchen smelled like collard greens, gumbo, and the cinnamon of the yams baking in the oven.
Ron emerged from upstairs with the twins fully dressed in blue jeans and Thanksgiving sweaters.
“We’re going to breakfast with Sean,” Ron said. “And then I think we’re going to go and look at the Christmas decorations downtown.”
“Good. You’ll be gone a few hours then?” Kimberly asked.
“Yes. We’ll be out of your way, Madame Chef.”
“Thank you. Make sure to check your phone periodically in case I’ve forgotten anything or need you to pick up one last thing.”
“Roger that. Where’s Twila? I thought she was coming too.”
Kimberly looked over at Hahna and Hahna shrugged.
“I haven’t heard from her yet,” Hahna said. “Maybe we can reach out to DeAndre to see if he’s seen her.”
Ron looked worried. “Do we have a Twila emergency? Do I need to do some stretches and lift a few dumbbells this morning?”
Kimberly laughed at this, and so did Hahna. Ron’s heroics had to come in and save the day for Twila before. He sounded ready to do it again if necessary.
“Hopefully not,” Kimberly said, “but I will keep you posted.”
“Well, let’s get everyone else on speed dial too. That guy she’s dating now is buff right? I might need some backup. I’m old.”
“You aren’t old baby,” Kimberly said. “You’re just grown and sexy.”
Ron kissed Kimberly’s cheek. She looked over his shoulder and caught the twins sneaking Thanksgiving cookies.
“Are we having cookies before breakfast?” Kimberly asked.
Carly and Kayla looked at her with wide eyes, probably wondering if they were in trouble. They looked so cute, that Kimberly couldn’t even pretend to be angry.
“We’re sorry, Ms. Kimberly,” Carly said. She was always the voice of the two.
“I think it’s a holiday, so cookies before breakfast might be just fine,” Kimberly said.
The twins looked at each other and giggled before taking an extra cookie from the dish and putting them in their little unicorn purses. They didn’t care that pinks and blues of their handbags didn’t match the browns and oranges in their sweaters. Apparently, unicorns were always appropriate.
“We’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t ruin their appetites,” Kimberly said. “There will be so much food later.”
“They only graze anyway. A couple bites here, a couple bites there.”
“Okay, see you when you get back.”
Ron chased his daughters to the front door. They squealed as they scurried, dropping cookie crumbs behind them.
“I’m gonna have to add an extra day to my housekeeper’s schedule when they’re here,” Kimberly said when they left. “They are messy.”
“Kids are messy. I don’t think I’m going that route, but maybe,” Hahna said.
“You know Ron and I talked about the possibility of more children. I don’t know, but I might be catching a case of baby fever.”
“I wouldn’t say I have baby fever. I just wouldn’t be angry if it happened. Sam feels the same way.”
“Unlike your ex. Torian was a hard no on babies, right?”
“Ugh. Why would you speak of the devil? He was a hard no on everything. Hard no on being faithful, hard no on marriage, hard no on telling the damn truth.”
Kimberly laughed out loud. “Okay killa. Tell ’em how you really feel.”
“Girl, my bad. He showed up at my office the other day and it pissed me off even seeing him.”
“What did he want?”
“To bring me a data analytics engagement with a big private equity group.”
“I hope you said yes.”
“We have a meeting next week. I just don’t know if I want to deal with his ass.”
“Can you invite Sam to the meeting?” Kimberly asked.
“I thought about that, because if at some point he finds out I’m working with my ex, he might feel some kinda way.”
“Sam seems really chill and secure, though. So, he might not care. Maybe mention the whole thing in passing and see what he thinks.”
“I will. I just hate that I have any emotions regarding Torian at all, you know? He should be a non-factor. I shouldn’t get angry when I think of him. I shouldn’t feel sad. I have the love of my life, so why does he even affect me at all?”
Kimberly saw how worked up Hahna was about all this and suddenly felt like a bad friend. Hahna had been there for everyone. She was holding the bridal party together, counseling Twila, and she had lost someone close to her.
“Are you okay?” Kimberly asked.
“I’m sorry, I’m fine. I just totally vented and dumped on you.”
Kimberly walked around the counter and sat next to Hahna on a barstool. “You can dump on me, Hahna. There’s been so much going on that I haven’t really asked you how you’ve been since you lost your Uncle.”
“I’m okay. Dealing with Rochelle was worse than the funeral. Sam was there for me and he was amazing. I felt so blessed to have him there.”
“He has been good for you, and good to you. Don’t let any leftover feelings from Torian impact anything you’ve got going.”
“I won’t. Torian is dust. Except when it comes to me getting this money.”
“And as long as you look at it that way, you’ll be fine.”
Kimberly wasn’t so sure about this, though. Torian was a successful man, much closer to Hahna’s financial level than Sam. Sam seemed secure with a healthy ego, but Kimberly wondered if their relationship was strong enough to withstand the rich and dashing ex.
“Make sure you talk to Sam, okay?”
Hahna nodded. “I will mention it today when I go back home to get dressed for dinner. If we show up smiling, it went well. If it didn’t go well, I might already be drunk.”
Kimberly laughed nervously. She hoped it went well, because they didn’t need anything to ruin Carly and Kayla’s first Thanksgiving.
Chapter 43
TWILA
Thanksgiving was a day for giving thanks to God for all the blessings you had over the course of the year. I hoped to give Thanksgiving a different meaning for Alexander Adams. It would be the day he thanked God he was still breathing.
He pulled against the restraints I had on him, but the duct tape and ropes held. I wasn’t worried about him escaping.
“Oh, are you afraid of the dentist’s office?” I asked. “Lots of people are afraid of dentists. You’d be surprised. I have had some of the biggest and strongest men in this chair, crying like a baby.”
Alexander didn’t answer. He only glared at me. He couldn’t respond anyway, not with the duct tape on his mouth. I wrapped it all the way around his head. It was gonna hurt like a bit
ch to take off.
“Were you shocked when I attacked you? You weren’t expecting it were you? A tiny runner in the neighborhood, running up on you with a taser as you took out your trash.”
The glaring continued.
“Those tasers are amazingly effective for incapacitating a victim. But, then again, you know that. You’ve incapacitated victims before.”
Alexander stopped looking at me. I watched his eyes darting around the office, trying to get some clue of why he was here.
“You don’t remember raping me, do you? That makes me wonder just how many victims you have, you sick fuck.”
He ignored my speech and kept looking around my office. Nothing of note there to tell him who I was.
“Maybe you’d know me if I had on a black bustier, and thigh highs. Maybe if I had a mask on and a whip in my hand. Or maybe, if we were at Club Phenom. Would you remember then?”
He slowly turned to me and narrowed his eyes. Finally, recognition.
“Ah, now you remember. That night when I was minding my own business, and you tased me and raped me with your unimpressive penis. I barely felt it.”
Alexander struggled at the restraints again, and I waved a fresh taser in his face.
“Keep it up, and I’m gonna make you go limp again. I don’t want to get your fresh piss in my dental chair though, so calm the fuck down.”
He calmed down. Probably wondered what was next. He probably thought he was going to meet his maker. Maybe he thought I was going to rape him back. I hoped he had all those thoughts, and more.
“You are lucky to be alive right now, Alexander Adams. You are very lucky. I could’ve just killed you and disposed of your body. Do you think your wife would’ve made a missing person’s report? Maybe, but probably not right away. She knows what you are. You raped her when she was helpless and homeless. Then you bought her off with a house and a title. Wife. I wonder what she’d been through in her life that marriage to you was a come up. Poor thing.”
Then, Alexander fucking Adams decided that he was going to laugh. It was muffled through the duct tape, but it was definitely a laugh. Bad idea Alex.
All the Things I Meant to Tell You Page 26
