40
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!”
Rebecca's heart was pounding as she took short, quick breaths.
“Oh my God!” she said again.
She'd watched in paralyzed shock as the attractive brotha in the black tank top put a taser to Lisette's neck and shocked her twice, and then threw her unconscious body over his shoulder and carried her inside.
The scene still hadn't registered with Rebecca when a woman emerged from the house, got into Lisette's car, and drove it into the garage, which had another car inside.
Rebecca shook, and after the woman rushed back into the home, Rebecca grabbed her cell. Lisette was in trouble. She had to call the police. But as she went to dial, she saw that she had no signal.
She cursed and made a move to get out of her car to run to use Kay's phone, but before she could, another car pulled into the driveway.
Rebecca sat immobile and watched as a young female got out of that car and took a look around. At one point, she thought she'd been spotted. It seemed as though the female had been looking right at her. But then she turned around and headed to the front door, where she knocked and was let in by the same man who'd attacked Lisette.
About ten minutes later, another woman emerged from the house, got into the female's car, and pulled it to the side of the house where it couldn't be seen from the main road.
“Oh my God!” Rebecca said again.
She was still inside of her car, afraid to move in case someone came out again.
Lisette was in trouble and it looked like the young female was too.
Rebecca looked down at her cell phone again. Still no signal.
She took another quick series of breaths. She had to move. But what if someone saw her get out of the car? What if they saw her go to Kay's door?
All of Kay's lights were off, save the upstairs bedroom. And what looked like light was really just illumination from the television as Kay was watching her
Sex and the City
marathon.
“Oh, God,” Rebecca whispered again.
She couldn't believe this was happening.
Lisette was in trouble while she'd been here determined to prove to Lisette that she was good enough. Determined to show that she could help women the way Lisette had helped her.
Help.
That's what Rebecca had to do.
Somehow, she had to help Lisette and the younger female.
But how?
She looked toward Kay's house. The TV's illumination was still the only light being given off. “Damn.”
She wanted to go, but if she knocked on the door, Kay would turn on the lights to come downstairs. If the people who'd taken Lisette saw that . . .
Rebecca shook her head.
She couldn't chance it.
But what could she do?
“Think, Rebecca. Think.”
She looked at Kay's house again. Still nothing but the damn TV.
She grabbed her cell and took another look at it, knowing there would still be no signal, but hoping for a miracle anyway, which she didn't receive.
“Think, Rebecca.”
She breathed in and out deeply. Her heart was jackhammering deep inside of her chest.
Lisette needed help.
“Come on, Rebecca . . . Think, damn it!”
And then it hit her.
She grabbed her purse from the passenger seat, reached into it, and wrapped her hand around something she always had with her, but never thought or hoped she'd have to use.
A 9 mmâcaliber pistol.
After all she'd been through with Bruce, she swore she'd never allow herself to be in a position in which a man could ever take advantage of her again. She took self-defense classes and also became licensed to legally possess and carry a firearm after months of extensive training on the firing range.
The moment she'd purchased the weapon had been a frightening yet powerful one. She was the owner of something that could kill and that was scary, almost terrifying. But at the same time, she was also the owner of something that could keep her from ever being harmed again, and that was an almost invincible feeling.
Rebecca closed her hand tight around the gun.
Lisette was in trouble.
Rebecca was there.
It had to be destiny.
She closed her eyes. She didn't know exactly what she would do, but she had to do something.
She removed the 9 mm from her purse and held it in her lap. It suddenly felt so heavy. She said a silent prayer and asked God to protect her and give her the strength to do whatever it was that He would direct her to do.
“My steps will be yours, Lord. I trust in you to guide my hand.”
She clicked the safety off, opened her eyes, then reached up and pressed the button to disable her interior light.
She took one final breath, held it for a long second, then let it out and opened her car door and got out slowly. Crouched low, she took another breath as her heart pounded.
Destiny
, she thought.
“My steps will be yours, Lord. I trust you to guide my hand,” she whispered again.
Rebecca moved toward the house, not knowing what she would do, just knowing that she would do something.
41
Shante Hunt.
The someone who'd been out there.
She'd set me up.
Before Marlene's text I'd known something was wrong. I'd heard it in Ryan's voice. I'd seen it in his eyes. He was going to attack me just like Steve had. His stance told me that. But I was ready for him, because I swore I was never going to be caught off guard again. And then the text came through and for the briefest of seconds I fucked up and looked down.
Now I was naked, my wrists and ankles tied to four posts of a bed, while my song played from somewhere in the room Ryan had taken me to.
My muscles were still weak from the volts of electricity I'd received. I slowly looked to my left and right. Eight candles were lit on night tables on both sides. Four on each side.
“That's a beautiful song.”
I lifted my head as much as I could and looked down toward the foot of the bed. A woman I'd never seen before was standing in front of a dressing table, which also had eight candles spread across it. Along with the candles was a small shelf system. My iPod was plugged into it.
“I had another song I was going to play,” the woman continued, “but we took this from your car and since you have it as the only song rated with five stars, I figured I'd play this one instead.”
She closed her eyes, swayed her head from side to side, and began to hum off tune and off rhythm.
My heart beat heavily as I watched her in the eerie glow. I tried to pull my wrists and legs free from my bindings, but they were tied tight.
“I learned how to tie knots in Girl Scouts,” she said. “You're not going anywhere. At least, not yet.”
The knots tight as hell, I struggled again anyway.
The woman laughed.
I stopped after another few seconds of futility and looked at her again. She was still humming. I wanted to tell her to shut up, to stop disrespecting my song. Instead I asked, “Who the hell are you?”
She smiled again. “I bet you've been wondering that since your dear old mother came to see you.”
I closed my eyes slightly at the mention of my mother.
“I was there watching you,” she said. “You were so shocked. So knocked off of your fucking game. You looked around that parking lot so many times trying to find me.” She paused and laughed. “You looked like a fucking bobblehead doll. It was hilarious. At one point I drove right past you. The thought of running you over crossed my mind, but instead I slowed down. I wanted you to see me, but of course you didn't.”
She paused again and rocked her head from side to side as the breakdown in the song came. “Goddamn, this really is a sexy-ass song,” she said. She opened her eyes then and looked at me. “Who am I? That's the fucking million-dollar question isn't it? Who am I? Why would I go through the trouble of paying a down-on-his-luck gigolo one hundred thousand dollars to play your ass? Who, by the way, did an exceptional job, don't you think? Maybe we should bring him in here so that you can tell him how good he was.”
She turned her head toward the opened doorway.
“Oh, Ryan . . . you can come in now. Lisette has something she'd like to tell you.”
I turned my head and looked at the doorway as Ryan appeared in its frame.
I looked at him as he looked at me.
A gigolo.
Hired to play me.
I clenched my jaw and tightened my fists as he walked into the room with a smile.
“Tell him, Lisette,” she said. “Tell him how good he was. How convincing. Do you know he wanted to be an actor? But he went to jail for rape and attempted murder, so his acting career died after that. But of course his dream never died. But everyone deserves a second chance, right?” She turned and looked at Ryan, whose eyes were still on me. “You had a lot of fun didn't you, Ryan?”
Ryan smiled, came toward me, and got down on one knee beside me. He trailed his index finger up from the inside of my ankle to just below my pussy. “I had a lot of fun,” he said, forcing two fingers inside of me.
I squirmed and tried to close my walls. He laughed and drove his fingers deeper, before pulling them out and slipping them into his mouth. He leaned forward and licked the side of my face. “A lot of fun,” he said again. He stood up and backed away, smiling at me the whole time.
“Fuck you, you fucking coward!” I said.
Before I realized she'd moved, the woman I'd never met before came over and slapped me viciously across my mouth. “No!” she yelled. “Fuck you, you whore!” She slapped me again. Two times. “You cunt! You bitch!”
She breathed heavily as she glared at me. In the candlelight's glow, her eyes were demonic. It gave me the chills.
I gritted my teeth as pain shot through my lips. I tasted my blood as it trickled.
She looked down at me and smiled, and then walked back to the sound system and replayed my song. “Who am I?” she said again. “Who. The. Fuck. Am. I? Ryan . . . do you know?”
Ryan shrugged and shook his head. “I couldn't care less who you are. Just as long as you pay me the rest of my money.”
The woman laughed and said, “I know that's right. Maybe we should ask your sister-in-law.” She looked toward the doorway again. “Shante,” she called. “Can you come in here? Lisette has an important question to ask you. Oh, and bring our other guest with you.”
I was breathing heavily as I looked toward the room's entrance again and watched as Shante Hunt appeared with a limp and naked Aida in her arms.
She looked at me and smiled and then pushed Aida inside to the ground.
Aida.
I looked down at her as she lay on the floor on her side, her eyes open and staring up at me. Her lip was split and bleeding badly, as was her nose and a cut above her right eye.
I stared at her as she stared at me, unmoving. I was certain she'd been drugged. I held my breath and looked at her chest. It took a few seconds in the dim glow, but I saw it rise and fall. I exhaled slowly. She was still alive.
I looked at Shante, who was standing beside the woman. “You bitch!” I spat. I looked to the woman. “What the fuck do you want?”
The woman put her hand to her chest, and in a horrible French accent, said, “Moi?”
I struggled with my bindings, again to no avail. “Fuck you!” I said. “Fuck both of you!”
The woman rushed toward me again and wrapped her hands around my throat. “Shut your mouth, bitch!” she said, squeezing.
I thrashed, trying to make her loosen her grip, but couldn't get her to.
I gagged as she squeezed harder. I could feel my head getting light.
“You cunt!” she seethed. “You fucking whore!”
She applied more pressure.
I tried again to twist my head from side to side to get some relief. A wave of dizziness came over me as I began to see spots.
The woman squeezed and cursed me more.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Aida watching, her eyes wider than before.
I was going to die. I could feel its imminence coming.
And then the woman let go suddenly and slapped me again.
I coughed and gagged as I took a labored breath of air.
“Are you paying attention?” the woman said, looking over at Aida. “This is what happens when you think you're too fucking good.”
Aida remained silent and unmoving.
The woman looked from her to me and watched me for a long, intense couple of seconds. “Back to the million-dollar question,” she said, her voice suddenly calm. She went back to my iPod and replayed the song.
“I want to tell you a story,” she said, picking up a razor blade and unfolding it. “Five years ago, two women met in a club. They talked, they kissed, and before they parted ways, they were completely devoted to one another. It was one of those rare connections you hear about in storybooks. You know, love at first sight. It was fucking magical.
“Anyway, these two ladies, who were so in love, began running scams together. They would take turns meeting, seducing, marrying, and then divorcing men for their money and possessions. It was a very good scam, but it wasn't perfect. The men they met weren't filthy rich, but they had just enough in their bank accounts. The women were able to live fairly well, but they kept looking for that big score, which they eventually did find when they met a pathetic man with more than enough money in the bank, named Myles Rogers.”
She stopped talking and looked down at me.
I watched her, my heart racing, my mind grasping what she was telling me.
She must have seen the recognition in my eyes. She smiled a wicked smile. “You're getting it now, aren't you, you trick,” she said with soft vehemence.
I stared at her but didn't reply.
She played with the blade in her hand and continued.
“So, these two womenâthese two soul matesâthey decided that the more attractive of the two would go after millionaire Myles. God, he was so pathetically easy and gullible.” She paused and looked up toward the ceiling, obviously reminiscing, and then looked back at me. “He believed their entire made-up story. Everything was going perfectly for these two women until Myles did something neither one of them had anticipated. Do you know what that was, Lisette?”
She watched me intensely as she walked toward me, her fingers continuing to dance around the hilt of the blade.
I remained silent and still, my heart hammering.
Steve had taken away my control in a way no other man had before. Kyra had broken me in a way I'd never been broken. But as bad as both occurrences had been, one thing had never happened. I'd never really felt fear. Not true fear. Not like what I was feeling as Kyra's lover approached me with a look of promised death.
Standing by my thighs, she stood still and continued with the story that I knew all too well.
“On the day of the wedding, Mr. Myles presented his bride-to-be with a prenuptial agreement that stated she would get five million dollars of his money after five long, fucking years of marriage. She'd get an additional five million after ten years. Well . . . let me tell you, Lisette, the ladies weren't happy. When they pulled these scams, they always had to remain apart and see one another on the side, because obviously they had the role of the good wife to play. But the longest they'd ever had to go seeing one another like secret lovers had been for nine months.
“One of the ladies wanted to call the whole thing off. She couldn't handle the length of time required to get that kind of money. She was content to pull a few more scams and wait for the next big score. But the other female, the one who'd been playing the role, she talked about how much time and effort had been put in. That Myles was the here-and-now opportunity, and that if they'd just stick it through, they'd be able to live in love for the rest of their lives.”
She paused and closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, tears began to fall from them slowly.
She continued.
“But after two years, the prospect of lasting another three became too hard for the ladies, and they began to rack their brains for a way out. Now at the same time, a woman named Shante ran into an acquaintance of hers who she'd met at the gym, named Lisa. On this particular day, Lisa had the biggest smile on her face Shante had ever seen. Now, Shante was very used to seeing Lisa with a frown and a beaten demeanor, so naturally she was curious about Lisa's change in mood. So she asked her why she'd been so happy. With no one around, Lisa explained how a woman helped trap her husband, who'd been abusing the hell out of her, so that she could get out of her marriage.
“As luck would have it, Shante, who ran in the same circles as the woman, just happened to be friends with one of the women who'd been running the scam on Myles. Well, one day, in casual conversation, Shante happened to mention to one of the ladies the story of Lisa and her savior, and about how that savior had given Lisa evidence of her husband doing things that no husband should do that she was able to use to get out of the marriage without any fuss from her bastard of a husband.”
She paused and sat down beside me.
“Lisette, it was as if the heavens had opened up. Do you want to know what happened next?”
She looked at me.
I clenched my jaw and closed my fists as my stomach twisted.
“I said, do you want to know what happened next?” she asked again.
I looked at her. I didn't want to respond, but knew that I had to. My body shook with each beat of my heart. Reluctantly, I said, “Yes.”
She scowled, then leaned toward me and placed the cool, sharp edge of the blade against my warm cheek.
I took a breath and held it as bumps rose on my skin.