The People vs. Cashmere 2

by Karen P. Williams

  I looked away quickly. Damn I needed his help. “Are you in pain?” I asked.

  “Well the doctors managed to pull three bullets out of me. Two in my shoulder and one in my arm.”

  “Caesar, I’m so sorry I got you involved in this. You could have been killed or arrested. Is she?”

  “Dead? Yes. But don’t worry. Despite what you feel about her, how you felt in your heart in that moment and what you planned to do to her, at the end of the day it was truly self-defense. No one will ever know you were there. And there is no investigation pending. I took care of it, Cashmere.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “Cashmere, I’d rather not say because I’m not a dirty cop and I hate dirty cops. But I don’t want you in jail. So I lied and pieced a mock puzzle together. I told my boss that I came simply to interview her about the murder of Patrice Wilson. When I saw the bottles of Molly I had probable cause to take her in. I told her to get her hands behind her head because she was going in on a possession charge. However, she panicked and ran in the bedroom. When I went in the bedroom she started firing. I said I didn’t get it being that it would have only been a possession charge. But my boss ran her record and she had several warrants. One is for exposing someone to AIDS. In addition, to find Molly on someone and to be questioning them in regards to someone who dies from Molly would make sense why she would. No one is concerned about her. She is a prostitute with AIDS. In their eyes, she is better off dead. Truthfully I think that she wanted us to kill her. You heard with she said. She was tired of the life. And look how her father did her. But, it’s just that given her situation with Black, I feel bad for her. She was a victim. And, well, because that could have been you.”

  I understood what he said but I didn’t feel bad. I didn’t. I was a victim and I could have never done what she had done. Expose an innocent child to this life? To AIDS? Life is based on choices no matter how hard it was for you. I also couldn’t feel sorry for her because of the fact that she had given my child to Black. “Well just so you know I feel like shit for involving you.”

  “I wanted you to involve me so don’t. And, babe, don’t worry about me. I’m okay. My career will be fine. It’s just that there is not much I am going to be able to do to help now but give you this.” He handed me a folded piece of paper.

  I unfolded it quickly and scanned the writing on the paper. There was an address on it and the city was Oakland.

  “The investigator got back to me. That is where Black Mitchell is. He actually owns the property. That is the red light district for child sex trafficking.”

  I took a deep breath. I had to figure out something. But what? Without Caesar I was pretty much lost as to how to get my child back.

  “Now you could go to the police. I mean I know some—”

  “First off no. The police are the reason I’m in this shit. Why in the fuck would they let him out? He is a murdering piece of shit. And no to getting you involved any further. I have implicated you in this enough. You could have been killed. I will figure out some shit on my own.”

  He closed his eyes briefly. “I knew you would say that. Cashmere, I know that I can’t stop you from whatever you plan on doing. But, baby, just be careful. The Five North will take you all the way there.”

  “I will, Caesar; don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” I leaned over and kissed him.

  But as I said it and walked off, I asked myself, how could I promise that? The last time I was in Black’s presence I was raped and almost killed. Had my mother not come I and Demarco would have been dead. But I knew I couldn’t involve anyone this time in this mess. Caesar had almost died for God’s sake. No. I had to do this shit on my own. But as for me, I was more than willing to die to save my child. Which was exactly why I went back home, snuck in the back door of my house to Demarco’s old office, and grabbed the nine millimeter gun along with some bullets. I snatched up my purse, phone, and keys as quietly as I could. I didn’t need anyone else but Caesar knowing my whereabouts at this point.

  Once I had what I needed, I slipped back through my back door and rushed over to my car. I jumped inside and tossed my purse on the passenger seat. Nervously I looked down at my phone as my mother called me. I didn’t answer it. I took a deep breath and played with my phone for a second. Visions of what had happened the last time I saw him flashed before my eyes. I knew I was stalling because I was scared as hell to face Black again. He was a cold person. I thought back to how he raped me in front of Demarco. If my mother and the cops had not showed up he would have killed me. I looked at the voicemails I had. I scrolled down until I saw the one from Demarco. I checked the date. It was the same day that he was in the car accident. Thing was I was no longer delusional. I knew my husband was dead. And our marriage was dead long before he was killed in that accident. I had accepted this. But I guessed I was curious as to what the message contained. There was a chance I wouldn’t make it back. I didn’t want to die not knowing what he had said. Even if it was, “Bitch, die. I hate you and I’m so happy with my new bitch.” As the message started I pulled off, my focus on the road ahead of me.

  My heart thudded violently in my chest as I stood outside the abandoned house. I was about to face a major demon. A demon from my past and a demon in form: Black Mitchell. But if I wanted my baby back home and safe I knew that I had to do this. But if I could free my daughter trust and believe I would give up my life to do so. I could not believe that this man after all the horrible things that he had done to me was free to walk this earth. And free to ruin more young girl’s lives like he had almost ruined mine. But I couldn’t let him do that to Dominique.

  I crept up the termite-bitten, cracked wooden steps to the house. My nine millimeter gun was locked and loaded and there was another clip tucked in the back pocket of my jeans. I could hear a TV playing from a distance. I ignored the sound and reached out and jiggled the doorknob to see if it was unlocked. It wasn’t. The front window had a black sheet covering it so I couldn’t see inside. Damn.

  I crept around to the back hoping I could see some sort of sign of my daughter inside. The sound of the TV got closer and closer as I walked. Each window I passed was closed and was covered. Fuck it, I thought. I would just have to bust a window or shoot the door handle off. But as I walked a little farther around the house, I saw a linen blowing out of a window. It was on the right side corner of the house. I walked up to it and saw the window luckily dangled open. I peeked inside what looked like a bedroom. I waited a few minutes for any sort of movement. When there was none, I tucked my gun in my pants band and climbed up the sill.

  I smoothly and as quiet as I could slid into the room. I then pulled my gun out of my waist, cocked it, and aimed it should anyone appear. So many thoughts were flying through my head. Part of me wondered in that moment if I should have gone to the police but they were the ones who let Black out to begin with! They cared very little about my problems with this man. They had proven that they couldn’t protect me or my daughter. So I had to do this.

  I tiptoed out of the bedroom to the hallway. There were two more doors I had to enter. One was the bathroom, which was empty. I took a deep breath and walked to the bedroom. I hoped the sound of my feet on the carpet wouldn’t alert him if he was in there. I opened the door with my gun aimed. There were two bodies lying on a bed. As I walked farther in the room, words could not describe the rage, shock, and hurt I felt to see my thirteen-year-old daughter lying down next to Black. And this motherfucker was pimping my child now! He had destroyed my innocence and now he was destroying hers. She was lying down next to him, his arms were wrapped around her as they spooned. She was dressed in a white nightgown with her feet bare looking so innocent, so fragile. ’Cause my baby was and he probably used that against her. I wondered if he had had sex with her.

  I shuddered and closed my eyes briefly. I stepped closer to the bed, toward my daughter. I tapped her on her shoulders and whispered firmly, “Dom. Get out of that bed now.”


  Her lashes fluttered open and she gasped. When she didn’t move fast enough for me, I yanked her little body out of the bed by her arm and shoved her behind me. “Stay,” I commanded in a low voice. Truth was I honestly didn’t know if she would comply. Now more than ever I wished when I was eighteen with that gun in my old apartment that I had pulled the trigger and ended his life then. Maybe I wouldn’t be here now. A sob racked my body.

  Black remained asleep but turned on his side, with a snore on his lips. Although I didn’t want to do this in front of my daughter I had to.

  My gun was aimed at his sleeping form. I wished I had a machete.

  “Black Mitchell! Wake your motherfucking ass up!” My gun was aimed at his sleeping form.

  As soon as I saw a speck of white in his eyes, as his lashes touched the bottom of his brows I wasted no time in pumping those bullets into that sorry motherfucker as his body jerked to and fro. In fact, I emptied the entire clip. I enjoyed seeing all the bullets pierce his flesh as smoke filled the air and blood started to seep from his body. But still, despite the fact that he was no longer breathing and his eyes were wide, I loaded another clip and emptied it as well, ignoring the terrified screams of Dominique. I smiled at his dead body for a moment; then as my daughter continue screaming I looked over at her tear-soaked face.

  I lowered the gun. She stood to her feet.

  “Dominique. No!”

  Before I could grab her, she ran toward the bed and threw her body over Black’s. She started bawling.

  I rushed over to her and grabbed one of her arms. “Get off of him, baby!” I started crying. What had he done to my child?

  “How could you, Mom?”

  “I had to baby. I—”

  “You killed my father!”

  There was so much I wanted to say to my child in that moment. So much I needed and wanted to explain but in that moment I needed to get her the fuck out of the house before the cops came.

  I snatched her up as she struggled against me. At one point I had to backhand her to keep her quiet. But she still struggled against me so I gripped an arm around her neck and dragged her outside to my truck. Once I got her in the truck she tried to get out of the car so I wrapped an arm around her neck and drove off.

  Dominique continued to cry and moan during the drive. Truth was I didn’t know if I was going to make it back to Inglewood. The cops may have caught on and nabbed me. It was a six-hour drive back. But did I regret blowing his head clear off? No.

  I had rid her of Black. She was free from him and nothing else could be worse. He could no longer hurt my child. Even if they caught me and arrested me and charged me. My child was fucking free. But I had to tell her the truth before we were separated. Once two hours had passed and I was not in that city I pulled the car over on a street and yanked her out and shoved her against the car; then I blocked her so she couldn’t get away.

  “I know. And I know right now you hate me. But, Dominique, what I did, it’s for the best. Look at me and know that I love you. That man has been brainwashing you. I will not give my daughter to the streets like I was given to the streets years ago. You will not live that life a day longer; if I have to die or end up in jail to stop it then I will. This love he is offering is not real love and it will hurt you. Blood or not.”

  “But . . .” She shook her head and sobbed uncontrollably.

  Then I noticed: the brand. The tattoo of Black’s name on her neck. I looked at the sky and tried to mask my pain. That’s not all I saw when I looked into her face. She had a black eye, a busted lip, and when I pulled her gown away from her body she had welts all over her skin.

  “Do you think this shit is love? Love doesn’t hurt. A person who loves you will never inflict pain, make you cry, make you suffer! If thats love . . . It’s not a love you need, baby, any more than it was a love I needed! It almost ruined me. It scarred and almost killed me. It killed my sister long before her heart stopped beating. He would have just used you up and thrown you away. I know I should have told you the truth long ago, that my mother abandoned my sister and me, and I was forced to be a prostitute with my sister, and that yes, I went to jail for murdering her. I never ever set out to kill my sister it was just a horrible accident. In my time with Black he drugged me, raped me, beat me, and got me and my sister addicted to drugs. He is no good I swear to you, baby. He tried to kill me. You have to trust me. You used to trust me. Remember the bond we had. Please trust me again!”

  Her words surprised me: “I don’t understand, Mom. He promised me he would be different. But he hurt me too, Mom, he hurt me too. I’m so confused.” She bawled like a baby.

  It was killing me to see my daughter so broken. “What did he do to you?”

  “Things to have his love and attention that I thought were worth it. But I just don’t know anymore. I was trying to figure it all out, Mom, but I couldn’t. Thing is, he was the only daddy I had. So I exchanged that pain he inflicted that night for having him. Because he said he would never leave me. I don’t like myself, Mom. And he said no one else would either. But he said he loved me because I was his.”

  “Listen to me. Think about Meka! Why wasn’t she living with you guys when that’s all she ever wanted”

  She is his daughter. Look how he treated her. He used her up. He would have done the same to you!”

  Her eyes were wide when I mentioned Meka being her sister.

  “I guess none of this really matters anymore does it, Mom? I’m stuck at square one again.” Between sobs she said, “Who’s gonna love me now?”

  “I will. Listen I know I made mistakes and I should have been honest to you about who your father was and I’m so sorry for that. I’m sorry that I allowed things to get out of control, not standing up to Demarco and forcing him to either be right by the both of us or get the fuck out. I realized that I in some ways was just as weak as my mother was when I was your age. How Demarco treated you had nothing at all to do with you. There is nothing wrong with you, baby. Listen we can start over. Let me fix this.” I reached in the car and pulled my cell phone out of my purse and searched for the voicemail I had heard earlier from Demarco. “Listen to this. It’s the night Demarco was killed.”

  The message played: “Hey, baby. I’m calling to let you know I’m coming home. I’m so sorry for all of this. I fucked up. And I been fucking up for a long time. I’m just lucky you stuck by me. You know what, ever since I left, I been doing a lot of thinking. A lot of sober thinking. Trying to make some sense of this bullshit. Trying to figure out why I’ve been being so angry and filled with so much hatred, directing it at my family. The truth is, I don’t hate you. When I look at Dominique I am reminded of that night. And that night is a reminder of what you went through and I couldn’t save you. It always left me feeling like I wasn’t a man. What I never told you is that the day he raped you, it took away my manhood. I always felt that if I had taken a chance, despite the gun, maybe just maybe he would have never raped you. The time I’ve been away, baby, I realized I was never mad at Dominique. And it wasn’t her I hated. I hated myself. From the day I met you I thought you were a queen, and I wanted to be your champion, your Superman, and I failed you that night. I never forgave myself for it. So my anger that I directed at you and Dom was really the anger and disappointment I felt for myself. I know I told you that when I look at Dominique I see him. But I also realized that whenever I looked at her I see you. And how can I not love something that came from you? And she is so precious, so beautiful, so sweet. Like a little angel floating around. I’m sorry for treating her so bad. I love you and I love Dominique and I’m so, so sorry that I have made her feel like I didn’t. If you two will let me, baby, I’m gonna come home and fix all of this before it’s too late. Before I lose you and Dom. I promise that for all the times I made you cry I’m going to fix it. I’m going to make it up to Dominique too, baby. I’m going to mend her heart, baby. I’m going to be the father she always needed me to be I promise.” He started breaking down crying on th
e phone. Then suddenly there was a loud car horn and a crash sound.

  Dominique had her hands over her face. She was crying loudly into them and saying, “I wanted Demarco’s love so bad, Mom.” She broke down crying hysterically. She looked so limp and so fragile. Her whole body was racked with sobs.

  As tears of my own slipped down my face, I grabbed her face between my hands. “Dominique, will you please forgive me and let us start over? Can we please put this behind us? Trust me you will be okay. We will be okay.”

  She closed her eyes briefly, opened them, and said, “Okay, Mom. Okay.”

  I pulled her into my arms and we both continued to sob.

  Chapter 35

  Dominique

  “And you just don’t even understand that I love you to an amount that is immeasurable and I’d take a thousand bullets for you, little girl.” Those words continued to ring out in my head. They were my mother’s words, the day she had caught me red handed at the strip club. I felt so many different emotions as we were driving home. The day that I was reunited with Black was nothing like I thought it was going to be. It was the worst three days of my life. For starters, he forced me to get the tattoo and when I said I was scared to he slapped me over and over again. Then once I got settled at the house I jumped in the shower and before I could even put pants on there was a man in my bed nude. Thing was I was confused because Black swore to me that when he got out I would no longer have to prostitute myself. Initially, I thought maybe it was a mistake because Black did have girls out here working for him but not at our house. When I told Black about the guy in my bed, he punched me in my mouth and dragged me by my hair back to the room to have sex with the man. Then guy after guy came. And Black said since I was resisting he was going to punish me. That meant putting me on the block in Oakland to work. After five hours out there he came to get me, brought me home, and beat me up more because according to him one of his other hoes said I was putting in no effort.