Southern Love

by Synithia Williams

  She stopped in the entryway. She knew she couldn’t marry Brad, but that wouldn’t make this any easier. She turned to face him, and before she could utter a word, Brad slapped her so hard she spun around and hit the wall behind her. Multiple thoughts ran through her head. Disbelief he’d actually hit her. Why had he hit her? Where was this coming from? A range of emotions fought for control within her: hurt, fear, and sadness, but the dominant feeling was fury.

  She kept her back to him as she cradled her face. Her eyes scanned the hall for any type of weapon. She regretted not having any decorative vases or sculptures in her entryway that she could use to defend herself. The fact that he’d actually hit her without saying a word infuriated her.

  “I should have slapped you a long time ago,” Brad said to her back. “After everything I’ve done and sacrificed for you, how could you do this to me?”

  Kenyatta took a deep breath and turned to face him. “If you ever hit me again, I’ll kill you.”

  He just laughed. “Try it,” he said then slapped her again.

  She lunged at him. He was stronger, but she instinctively fought back. She had barely scratched his face when he grabbed her hands and slammed her against the wall. He didn’t look upset; instead, he had a sick smile on his face.

  “Oh, you want to fight me, huh? If I had known you would fight, I would have done this the first time I saw you looking at your damn boss.”

  He reached down and roughly pulled her dress up. Kenyatta fought but couldn’t overpower him. Her anger turned to full-fledged panic as she realized what he was trying to do.

  “No, Brad, stop it!” She bucked against him, but he slammed her against the wall again. Her head hit the wall, and she was stunned momentarily before renewing her struggle.

  “Why are you doing this? What’s wrong with you?”

  He stopped for a second and looked at her as if she were an idiot. “Why am I doing this?”

  The smirk left his face, replaced with an angry sneer. He put his hand around her neck. He squeezed slightly, not enough to cut off her breathing, but enough for her to recognize the threat.

  “The next time you decide to fuck your boss on your desk, make sure you hang up the phone first,” he said.

  Kenyatta’s eyes widened with shock. The guilt of her indiscretion crept up, but she forced it back down. The look in Brad’s eyes was too scary. Yes, she should have broken things off with him before sleeping with Malcolm, but she didn’t deserve this.

  “Brad,” she began slowly, “I know it’s worthless to say it, but I am sorry. This thing with Malcolm was not something I planned. I know it was wrong, and I shouldn’t have agreed to continue our engagement, but it doesn’t give you the right to do this.”

  She didn’t think it was possible, but he got angrier. “Oh it doesn’t? I waited on you for two years. You tell me we should wait because you had to be sure that I wanted you and not just your body. So I respected your wishes. I waited on you because I wanted you so much.” His eyes swept over her body pinned against the wall, and she saw desire flash in them. “I still want you. So much that it’s almost an obsession. I waited and tried to give you everything you wanted, and what do you do? You go and fuck your boss on your desk!”

  He slammed her against the wall again to emphasize his words. He was beyond reasoning with. She frantically looked around for a means to get away from him, but his hold on her was too strong. In fact, he was a lot stronger than she’d ever thought.

  “What do you have to say for yourself? Just ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘It wasn’t planned’? That’s a load of shit, Kenyatta, and you know it. I’m not stupid. I’ve watched you two drool over each other since we started dating.”

  “Then why did you stick around?” she asked, hoping that if she kept him talking, she’d find a way to strike back.

  “Because you’re mine, Kenyatta. I don’t think you realize it yet, but I’m not giving you up. I’ve invested too much into making you my wife, and that’s what you’re going to be.”

  She glared at him. “Brad, I’m not marrying you.”

  He laughed, and the smirk was back on his face. “That’s what you think. If I’m guessing right, Malcolm is planning to come over tonight. I don’t think he’ll be very interested in you when he sees that you left his arms and jumped right into mine. Not again.”

  “What do you mean, not again? I’m not sleeping with you.” She tried to push him away.

  He pressed his body closer. “Kenyatta, I can clean this mess up the same way I did in Orlando.”

  She went still. “What?”

  The lifted his other hand and pointed it in her face. “Oh yes, I heard your conversation in the stairwell in Orlando.” Excitement filled his voice. “I know all about how he left you the night before. And your … misunderstanding about Tangy. So when I met you at your room, I made sure to ruffle you up a bit before he came. I wanted him to see that you belong to me, and I’m going to do it again tonight.”

  Kenyatta’s anger returned with full force. He had played her for a fool. Everything he’d said about their having a relationship built upon trust and understanding was a lie. His insistence that she change clothes, telling her that his love for her was the reason why he’d wanted to kiss her. It was all to make it look as if they were being intimate. He’d done it all just to turn Malcolm away, and it had worked.

  Kenyatta began to fight in earnest. She refused to make it easy for him this time. “Get off me! I’m not sleeping with you.”

  Brad laughed. “Oh, yes you will. Even if you aren’t willing. I’ve spent far too much time waiting to consummate this relationship.”

  “If you force me, I’ll tell him. He’ll know I didn’t want this,” she argued.

  He laughed harder. “Sweetie, you act as if you’ll be conscious when he gets here.” He pulled his hand back and balled it into a fist.

  Kenyatta looked from his fist to his face. Adrenaline took over, and she kneed him in the groin as hard as she could. He doubled over in pain but didn’t let go of her. She was able to get one of her hands free and used it to try to pry her hand from his grip.

  “You bitch,” he ground out and jerked her back. He punched her, and when she fell to the floor, he threw himself on top of her.

  Kenyatta yelled, screamed, hit, and scratched, but it wasn’t enough. He continued to pin her down while jerking her dress up. Kenyatta heard the fabric of her underwear tear and tears flowed down her face. This can’t be happening to me, she thought. She continued to resist, but she wasn’t strong enough.

  Brad reached down to open his pants and Kenyatta felt his erection press against her inner thigh. She struggled and screamed out again, and Brad slapped her. The force of the blow knocked her head into the floor. She saw stars and realized she wouldn’t be able to stop him. By the time, Malcolm showed up, she would be unconscious, and Brad could feed him any line he wanted.

  Chapter 27

  Malcolm headed straight for Kenyatta’s house after taking Jessica home. He’d overheard her friend Carol talking about the look in Brad’s eyes and how she’d seen it before. It worried him. He’d never seen any signs that Brad was abusive to Kenyatta and couldn’t imagine someone with her spirit in a relationship like that, yet something told him to go to her. Brad had shown signs of being overly protective. The way he had stuck to her side all night unnerved him. The fact that it bothered those close to her only made him more anxious to get to her house.

  Jessica had been upset about their abrupt departure, but not enough to resist coming on to him again. He’d brushed her off before bluntly telling her he was going to Kenyatta. She’d slapped him, called him every name in the book, and he’d taken it. He’d treated her badly, and she deserved to vent her frustration. He’d left her cursing at her door before rushing to Kenyatta’s house.

  His stomach clenched when
he saw Brad’s car parked in front of Kenyatta’s townhouse. The logical part of his brain told him they could just be talking. Kenyatta was probably trying to break things off gently without hurting Brad’s feelings. Although Malcolm knew his arrival would only make things worse, his instincts told him Brad’s presence wasn’t good.

  He got out of the car and walked quickly to her door when the door of the neighboring townhouse opened. A young woman appeared.

  “Are you going to Kenyatta’s?” she asked anxiously.

  Malcolm’s uneasiness grew. “Yes, why?”

  “I was just about to call the police.” She began to wring her hands. “It sounds as if she’s being attacked, but that doesn’t make sense because I saw her go in with Brad.”

  Before she could finish, Malcolm ran to the door. It was locked, but he could hear Kenyatta’s screams. The yelling ended abruptly and Malcolm’s heart skipped a beat. It was too quiet on the other side.

  He took a step back and slammed, shoulder first, into her door. He briefly recognized pain as the door flew open, but it was immediately forgotten when he took in the scene before him. Kenyatta lay on the floor, obviously dazed, with Brad on top of her.

  Brad turned when the door opened, and Malcolm pounced on him before he could say a word. He jerked Brad up and punched him in the jaw so hard he flew into wall. He didn’t give Brad time to react, punching him repeatedly in the jaw, stomach, and ribs. He wanted to kill him and would have done so if Kenyatta hadn’t pulled him away.

  “Malcolm, Malcolm, stop, you’ll kill him. He’s not worth it,” she begged.

  Malcolm gave Brad one last shove and backed away. He didn’t take his eyes off him. He hoped Brad would fight back and give him a reason to hit him again as he pulled Kenyatta against his side.

  He pointed at Brad. “You have five seconds to get out of this house before I kill you.”

  Brad slowly stood up against the wall and glared at Malcolm. He struggled to fasten his pants before spitting blood on the floor. “I’m not giving up.”

  Malcolm growled and would have hit him again for the audacity of that remark if Kenyatta hadn’t pressed closer to him.

  “Get out,” he repeated.

  Brad spit on the floor again and then limped out the door. Malcolm walked over to slam it shut, but he’d shattered the jamb and it wouldn’t close.

  He turned around and studied Kenyatta. The bruises were already showing on her face, and her dress was torn. He was ready to turn and follow Brad to finish the beating, when she flung herself at him and began to cry. For a few seconds, he stood there not knowing what to do, before he instinctively wrapped his arms around her.

  He expected her to cry for a while, but she quickly pulled away and screamed. She paced back and forth, her strides short and angry. She was rubbing her arms so fiercely he wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks fly.

  “Are you all right?” It was a dumb question, but he didn’t know what else to say.

  “He hit me.” She continued to pace. “No, he beat me! I can’t believe he actually did that to me.”

  Malcolm watched her and realized she was not only scared and confused, but also furious. He was just as surprised and angry as she was. Although he’d never liked him, he’d never thought Brad was a threat to Kenyatta.

  “Why did he hit you?” he asked.

  She kept pacing, and he thought she didn’t hear him. She stopped suddenly and faced him. Guilt now accompanied the other emotions showing on her face.

  “I didn’t hang up the phone earlier. He heard us on my desk.”

  Malcolm swore and pulled her into his arms. He was glad she didn’t pull away this time but let him hold her.

  “I’m sorry he heard that, but that’s no excuse for what he was doing to you.”

  Kenyatta nodded against his shoulder. “I know, but I was wrong. I never should have reconciled with him. I thought I could make it work. I thought he was safe and stable, even though he wasn’t exactly what I wanted. It was easier to be with him than leave.”

  He tilted her head back to look into her eyes. “Kenyatta, we all make mistakes in relationships. Sometimes, we hurt those we care about, but it doesn’t give him the right to do what he was doing. You were — ” He couldn’t finish as the vision of her underneath Brad filled his mind. A new rush of anger bubbled up. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “No one has the right to hurt you like that,” he finished simply.

  She looked up at him and swayed on her feet. Malcolm caught her before she fell. There was a queasy look on her face and sweat on her brow.

  “I think I need to sit down.” She touched the back of her head and winced. “I hit my head.”

  Malcolm clenched his jaw. “You didn’t hit your head, he did that.” He picked her up, carried her into the living room and sat her on the couch.

  “You should go to the hospital,” he said.

  Kenyatta shook her head. “No, I don’t want them to look at me like I’m some battered woman. I’ll just take some Advil and lie down.”

  Frustration replaced his anger. “You have a black eye, a swollen cheek, and possibly a concussion. You are a battered woman.”

  She glared at him. “That’s not funny, Malcolm. I’ll be fine.” She stood up quickly, as if to prove her point, but swayed again. Malcolm caught her and swung her up in his arms.

  “You’re going to the hospital.” He carried her toward the broken in door.

  He expected her to argue, but she closed her eyes and lay against his chest. He thought she had fainted, but she reached up and put her arm around his neck.

  “Not the one on this side of town. My mom’s best friend is an ER nurse, and everyone I know will know before the night is over,” she whispered.

  He nodded and headed out the door. Her neighbor was waiting there. She cried out and rushed over when she saw Kenyatta in Malcolm’s arms.

  “Oh, my God, Kenyatta. Are you okay? I would have called the cops, but I didn’t think Brad would hurt you. I’m so sorry for not doing anything sooner.” She began to cry.

  Kenyatta looked up. “It’s okay, Vicki. None of this is your fault.” She looked back at her broken door and asked her neighbor. “Could you watch out for my things while I’m gone? The door is broken, and I don’t want a robbery on top of everything else.”

  Vicki stopped crying and looked at the door. “I’ll do one better and have my boyfriend come and fix it while you’re gone. I’m so sorry, Kenyatta.”

  “Please stop saying that. It looks much worse than it is.”

  Vicki nodded, but didn’t look convinced. Malcolm gave her a brief nod before continuing to his SUV. He put Kenyatta in the front seat and buckled her seatbelt before getting in on his side. Within minutes, they were on I-20 headed toward Providence Northeast.

  “He’s known about us since Orlando.”

  Her statement startled him. She’d tilted her seat back and closed her eyes. He’d thought she’d fallen asleep. “What do you mean?”

  “The day after we … we didn’t sleep together, he heard us talking in the stairwell. I don’t know how, maybe he saw us go in there and decided to follow. Who knows? He met me at my room, sweet-talked me into changing my clothes, so I did. Then he told me all the reasons we belonged together: our relationship wasn’t built on lust, we both knew each other and could trust each other … our love was real.” She paused before continuing. “I was crushed by your refusal, and when he told me about you and Tangy, everything he said rang true. I turned around, and he was halfway undressed. He said he was my fiancé and had a right to be close to me. When he kissed me, I let him, but that was all that happened. He did it all because he knew you were coming to my room.”

  She looked over at Malcolm. “He wanted you to think you were interrupting us having sex.” She laughed bitterly before continui
ng. “He was planning the same thing for tonight. He was going to punish me for cheating on him with you. Beat me until I was unconscious and then answer the door when you came by. He thought you wouldn’t want me afterward, and I would be forced to stay with him.”

  She turned her head away from Malcolm and fell silent. He didn’t know what to say. He was furious to know Brad orchestrated the entire scene he witnessed in Orlando. If it weren’t for Brad’s interference, he and Kenyatta would have been together a lot sooner and none of this would have happened. It was another thing to add to his list of reasons for beating the shit out of Brad the next time he saw him. If he hadn’t arrived early, and Brad would have come to the door, he would have thought the worst. It would have crushed him to think Kenyatta left his arms for Brad’s again. He wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with her after that. It shook him to his core to realize how easily Brad would have manipulated him to give up the woman of his dreams.

  Malcolm reached over and took Kenyatta’s hand. “It doesn’t matter what Brad’s plans are from now on. I’ll stand beside you, no matter what. And I’ll protect you from anything he tries to throw your way.”

  Kenyatta turned back to him and smiled. It broke his heart to see her wince with the effort. He wanted to take the pain away. He knew in that moment he loved her and would fight to protect her from whatever came her way. He didn’t know if she felt the same way about him, but he didn’t care. Kenyatta had become a part of his soul now, and he would do everything in his power to ensure nothing ever hurt her again.

  Chapter 28

  Kenyatta woke the next morning to the feel of a strong chest against her back. She was confused, until the events of the night before flooded her memory: Brad hitting her, Malcolm rushing in to help her, the drive to the hospital. She moaned and tried to roll over. Malcolm’s arms tensed around her before he sat up and looked down at her.

  “Are you alright? Do you need something?” His eyes anxiously scanned her face.