Lady Elect (24 page)

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Authors: Nikita Lynnette Nichols

BOOK: Lady Elect
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She was so angry that she had begun to shake as if she had chills running through her body. The longer she sat there and watched the young boy who had gotten Miranda pregnant, the angrier she got.
She leaned into Myrtle again. “I'm going home. I can't be here like this. My spirit is jacked up, and I ain't gonna sit here and be fake.”
Myrtle pressed her index finger down on Arykah's thigh to keep her seated. “That's
exactly
what you're gonna do,” she said sternly. “When you get back home, you can rip Lance's head off, but right here and right now, you're gonna pretend to be the happily married first lady that everyone thinks you are.”
Arykah got even angrier than she was five minutes ago. She sat straight up on the pew and pinched her lips together and looked forward, not gazing on anything in particular.
Lance saw the exchange between Myrtle and Arykah. He could tell by Arykah's body language that whatever Myrtle whispered in her ear was obviously something Arykah didn't want to hear.
His wife was upset, and Lance wondered what he could do to fix the situation.
Thinking back on everything Arykah had said that morning made him realize that she was absolutely right. Who was Mother Pansie to tell Miranda that she couldn't sing in the choir just because she was pregnant? Lance remembered Arykah's harsh words.
If anything, the choir is exactly where Miranda needs to be. She needs to keep singing and praising and clapping and loving God. He forgave her of her sin, and He still loves her. Miranda is still His child. If you take that girl out of the choir and she leaves the church and gets into more trouble, that's gonna be on you. You'll have to answer for that
.
Lance looked at the young boy who had fathered Miranda's baby. He was singing and clapping and praising God. His life hadn't changed.
Was he told that he couldn't sing 'til after his baby comes? Was he instructed to stand before the church and confess that he'd gotten a girl pregnant? So, it's okay for Miranda to be yanked from the choir because her belly will grow and her sin will be exposed. But the young daddy can keep doing what he wants to do. You know that ain't right, Lance. Grow some cashews and man up.
Lance scanned the congregation until he spotted Miranda sitting next to Gladys in the rear of the church. Without hesitation, he stood from his seat, left the pulpit, and walked to the back of the church. Minister Weeks was quickly on Lance's heels.
It wasn't uncommon for Lance to disrupt the service and walk out of the pulpit to lay holy hands on the people. It was Minister Week's job to move whenever Lance moved.
When Lance got to the end of the pew that Miranda sat on, everyone watched as he called for her to come to him. Arykah saw Miranda stand and excuse herself as she passed folks and stood before her pastor. The young adult choir was still singing when Lance turned to look at Arykah. In his eyes, Arykah knew Lance needed her. She slowly stood and made her way down the center aisle to where he and Miranda stood.
With Arykah by his side, Lance placed both of his hands on top of Miranda's head and began praying for her. Tears came to Arykah's eyes. After his prayer, Lance held out his left hand for Minister Weeks to pour holy oil in his palm. Lance then blessed the oil and poured it from his palm to Arykah's palm. He instructed Arykah to place her hands on Miranda's belly.
With tears dripping down her face, Arykah did as she was told. As soon as she touched Miranda's belly, Arykah felt the fifteen-week-old fetus move. Immediately the Holy Spirit overpowered Arykah, and she began speaking in an unknown tongue.
Gladys saw the power of God moving through Arykah. “Thank ya! Thank ya!” she shouted in her seat.
When Lance saw that Arykah had finished blessing Miranda, he hugged Arykah. “You had my back, baby,” he whispered in her ear.
Arykah returned Lance's hug. “And I always will.”
Lance kissed Arykah's cheek, and she walked back to the front pew and sat down.
Then Lance grabbed Miranda's hand and escorted her into the soprano section in the choir stand. Afterward, he returned to his own seat in the pulpit. Arykah turned around and looked into Mother Pansie's face and sent her a message with her eyes.
You ain't runnin' nothing.
Mother Pansie glared at Arykah. She'd gotten Arykah's silent message clearly.
Mother Pansie crossed her arms over her chest and averted her eyes somewhere else.
Arykah turned back around and saw Lance looking at her. She winked her eye at him and Lance returned the wink, then smiled.
My wife is happy again,
he thought.
Myrtle leaned into Arykah. “See what you would've missed had you left?”
“Thanks for making me stay, Momma Cortland.” Arykah was pleased. Lance made her happy. She saw Miranda in the choir singing and praising God just as she should be. Arykah stood up and started clapping and singing along with the choir.
Mother Pansie sat behind Arykah wondering how she had gotten Lance to change his mind about Miranda. When she had spoken with Lance on the telephone the night before, he told Mother Pansie that she had his full support. Mother Pansie looked at Arykah's blond wig, her skintight scarlet-red dress, and her hooker heels.
That Jezebel seduced him.
Mother Pansie was anxious for morning service to be over so that she could get started on the next plan to get Arykah out of Freedom Temple. But Mother Pansie was on her own now. Mother Gussie told Mother Pansie that she was done fooling with their pastor's wife. Arykah was constantly showing up in Mother Gussie's dreams in a bad way. The day Arykah came to the church and confronted her about the suit jacket fiasco when she tried to make Arykah believe that Lance had cheated on her, Mother Gussie had wet her pants. It was then that she realized that Arykah meant business. Mother Gussie believed Arykah to be the craziest woman she'd ever met. So crazy that Mother Gussie absolutely refused to come to church for work or morning service.
Lance hadn't spoken with Mother Gussie in weeks. He assumed she resigned from her position as the church secretary.
Sitting in church, angry, Mother Pansie knew she had been defeated again. Lance had stripped her of her position of counseling the women in the church and assigned Arykah to do it. Mother Pansie was overruled when she confronted Arykah about having Miranda stand in front of the church and confess her sin. And now Bishop Lance, himself, took the girl and put her back in the choir.
Three times Mother Pansie had been defeated, but she refused to give up. Having to look at Arykah's big behind, in a wig and dress that only a floozy would wear, Mother Pansie decided that she didn't need Mother Gussie on her team.
Mother Gussie was weak, but Mother Pansie refused to be intimidated by Arykah. The fat broad had to go, and Mother Pansie would see to it. Come hell or high water, Lady Elect Arykah would soon be gone. For Mother Pansie, it had become a personal matter.
Chapter 16
Monday
morning, Arykah was in the shower when she heard the house phone ringing. Monday mornings were when new listings of homes on the market came across Arykah's desk at the realty office. It wasn't unusual for her boss to call Arykah at home when he got a hold of the listings before any other agent came into the office.
Arykah ran from the shower into the bedroom, soaking wet. She snatched up the receiver from her nightstand before the call went into the voice mail. “Hello?”
“Lady Arykah?”
Arykah frowned at the voice on the other end of the telephone. What could she possibly want on a Monday morning? Of course she was calling to speak with Lance to try to get him to put a leash on his wife.
“The bishop isn't here, Mother Pansie. Perhaps you should try him at the church.”
Arykah heard the call disconnect, then the line went dead. Mother Pansie had hung up on her.
What the heck?
Arykah's first instinct was to call Mother Pansie back and ask what her problem was but decided against it. She had houses to sell. Arykah returned the cordless telephone to its base and was on her way back to the shower when she heard the doorbell ring.
Now what?
she thought.
She turned the water off in the shower, then grabbed her long quilted robe from the end of the bed and put it on. The doorbell rang again.
“Coming!” Arykah shouted as she left her bedroom and went to the front door.
“Who is it?” she asked, tying the belt to the robe in a knot around her waist.
“Delivery for Mrs. Howell,” a man said.
With her spending habits, a delivery from the United Parcel Service was at Arykah's front door at least three times a week. She didn't think to look through the peephole to see Rafael, the driver assigned to Arykah's area. The same driver who always delivered her packages. Arykah had developed a trusting relationship with Rafael. Because her packages were often too heavy for her to lift, she would tip Rafael very handsomely to bring her boxes inside.
“You still married?” Rafael would ask Arykah in his Spanish accent every time he brought her packages. He flirted with her, and Arykah would assure him that as long as she lived in that big home, she would stay married.
“Okay, Rafael, I'm here,” Arykah said after the doorbell rang a third time. She opened the door and one punch to her nose sent Arykah flying backward. The impact was so forceful that the back of Arykah's head slammed against the tile floor. She saw stars, and she saw a man's silhouette.
“Rafael?” she moaned trying to get up.
“No. Not Rafael, b*@+h,” he muttered.
Arykah heard the front door slam. She tried to move but felt a kick to her ribs. She screamed out. The next thing Arykah knew, she was being dragged by her arms into the living room. She began kicking and screaming. She didn't know from which direction the next punch came, but Arykah felt a blow to her right eye.
“Shut up!” he yelled.
Dazed and confused, Arykah's vision was blurred. She felt her robe being snatched open.
“No!” she screamed.
“Nooooo!”
The next punch knocked out two of Arykah's front teeth.
“I said shut the f*#k up!” He was on top of her. He positioned himself in between Arykah's thighs. She felt his fingers force themselves inside of her.
Arykah screamed again.
“Lance! Lance!”
“The bishop can't save you now,” he said.
His breath was foul; his body odor was offensive. Arykah fought, kicked, and scratched. She wasn't going down without a fight. But the more she fought and screamed, the harder his punches got. His fingers jammed in and out of her. Arykah felt his nails slice her inner flesh.
“Jesus! Jesus!”
she screamed.
The next thing Arykah knew, he had traded his fingers for his manhood. He forced her body to accept his, to make room for him. She coughed up blood and had almost choked on her own teeth that had slipped to the back of her throat.
He had gotten a hold of both of Arykah's wrists and extended them over her head. Violently, he pressed them on the floor. He moved in and out of her over and over again. Thrusting, tearing, forcing her to take him in.
Arykah couldn't see his face. She couldn't make out his features. He was a stranger in her house.
His thrusts became faster and faster; then he yelled out and suddenly stopped. And just as quickly as he had barged into her home, he was gone.
Arykah lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, unable to move. Her entire body ached. Her nude, violated body was exposed. Blood had run from her nose and mouth down the sides of her face and onto the white carpet beneath her. Her womanhood burned. Arykah reached between her legs and felt a warm liquid oozing out of her. “Oh my God,” she cried. “Oh my God.” She couldn't believe that she had just been violated in her own home. She had been raped.
With the little strength she had, Arykah turned over on her stomach and used her elbows to drag herself to the telephone on the cocktail table. Her thighs left a trail of blood behind her. It took Arykah four tries to get the number correct.
Lance saw his home number flashing on the caller ID on his cellular telephone. “You miss me already, don't you?” he joked.
She was crying. She was coughing and choking to get the words out. “He hurt me.”
Lance frowned. “Cheeks?”
Arykah's sobbing became louder. “I was calling for you. Where were you?”
Still frowning, Lance didn't have a clue what she was saying to him. “What?”
Arykah screamed into the telephone.
“He raped me!”
Lance jumped up from his desk at church.
“What?”
He was already running from his office.
“Baby, I'm on my way. I'm on my way, Cheeks!”
When Lance ran past Mother Gussie's desk he yelled, “Sharonda, call the police and send an ambulance to my house, now.
Right now!”
Lance ran down the church steps, out the door, and got into his car at the speed of lightning. He had tears in his eyes. The thought of a man violating his wife infuriated him. “Baby, hold on. I'm coming home.”
Arykah lay on the living-room floor moaning and crying. “Lance? Lance?” Her words were just above a whisper.
“Cheeks!” Lance yelled into the telephone. She didn't answer him. Lance was worried that Arykah had lost consciousness. “Arykah! Arykah!”
Still no response. He disconnected the call and dialed emergency.
“This is nine-one-one, what's your emergency?”
Lance could hardly get his words together as he fumbled with his keys. He had too many on the key ring. He couldn't distinguish his car key from any other key. “My wife ... she ... my wife ... please—”
The operator couldn't understand him. “Sir, what's your emergency?” she asked him again.
He found the key, slid it into the ignition, and turned it. In the next ten seconds, Lance was speeding. “My wife was raped. Please send an ambulance to my home.
Please!”
he cried out. Lance was driving beyond the speed limit and had already decided that if a cop tried to pull him over for driving too fast, he wouldn't stop. He would make the squad car chase him all the way home. Nothing or no one would stop him from getting to Arykah.
“Sir, what is your name?” the operator asked.
He sniffed and wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand. “Lance Howell.”
There was a pause before the operator asked Lance to confirm his home address. “Sir, there's an ambulance already dispatched to your home and the police are en route. They should be there momentarily. What is your wife's name?”
“Arykah. Arykah Miles-Howell.”
Another pause. “Okay, Mr. Howell, I have confirmation that the police have arrived at your residence. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, thank you,” Lance answered.
“Well, good luck to you and your wife, sir.”
“Thank you,” Lance whispered.
Twenty-five minutes later, Lance drove on his lawn like a madman. He was halfway to the living-room window before the grass had slowed the car down. He put the gear in park, jumped out of the car, and left the engine running.
There were four police cars in the driveway and two were parked on the street. Lance saw a policeman standing next to the garage talking into a two-way radio. Three more policemen were huddled in a semicircle on the front porch. It was a real live crime scene.
Lance saw yellow tape that read,
“Police Line. Do Not Cross.”
The tape spanned across the front porch and down the steps to the banisters.
“Hey. Hey, you,” one of the policemen on the porch called after Lance as he ran past them into the foyer.
Lance walked in further and entered the living room, where he saw a crime-scene investigator and a female detective taking pictures of the blood-soaked white carpet.
“Arykah,” he called out.
The policeman who had called after Lance followed him inside. “Who are you?” he asked Lance.
Lance couldn't take his eyes away from the massive amount of blood on the carpet. “This is my house. Where is my wife?”
“Can I see some identification, please?”
Lance didn't hear his question. He wanted to know where Arykah was. “Where's my wife?” he asked again.
“Identification, please.” The policeman had to prevent Lance from taking another step further into the home. He could accidentally tamper with the evidence.
Lance pulled his wallet from his back pocket and opened it. He found his driver's license and gave it to the policeman. “Please tell me where my wife is. Is she okay?”
The policeman studied Lance's driver's license, then gave it back to him. “Mr. Howell, your wife was assaulted—”
“I know that,”
Lance yelled at him. He was losing patience. “
Where
is she?”
The female detective heard Lance yell and hurried over to where he and the policeman stood. “Sir, your wife has already been taken to the hospital, but I wanna ask you some quest—”
Lance looked at her. “Which hospital?”
“Mr. Howell, I need to ask—”
“Where did they take my wife?” He wasn't in the mood for answering questions. First things first. He needed to know Arykah's whereabouts.
The detective exhaled. She knew she wouldn't get anywhere with Lance until she told him where his wife was. “Dupage County Hospital, but please—”
Lance was already out the door and running to his car.
“Mr. Howell?” she called after him. When she and the policeman followed Lance outside, they saw that he had reversed the Jaguar backward on the lawn and was already heading down the street.
Monique's cellular telephone rang. She was sitting behind her desk at the radio station when she saw Lance's name on her caller ID. “Morning, Bishop.”
“Arykah's been raped. I'm on my way to the Dupage County Hospital.”
Monique's eyes bulged from her head. She stood up. “Oh my God. Lance?”
He started crying again. “Blood was everywhere.”
Monique became frantic. “How ... who ... where ...?”
“She was raped at home. That's all I know.”
Monique started gathering her things. “Okay. Dupage County?”
“Yeah, Dupage County.”
“I'm on my way.” Monique disconnected the call from Lance and immediately called Adonis and told him what had happened to Arykah and which hospital she was in. An electrician, Adonis was out on an assignment. He told Monique that he'd leave work immediately and meet her and Lance at the hospital.
It took Lance half an hour to reach the nurses' desk in the emergency wing at the hospital. He was out of breath from running from the parking lot. “My name is Lance Howell. I was told that my wife, Arykah, was brought in.”
The nurse keyed in information on the computer. “Yes, she was but—”
“Where is she? I wanna see her.” Lance was sweating and panting.
“Mr. Howell, please have a seat in the waiting area. The doctor is with her now. I will let him know that you're here.”
“Can you just tell me how she's doing? She lost consciousness while I was speaking with her on the telephone. Is she breathing? Is she alive?” Lance broke down and sobbed loudly at the nurses' station. “Why won't anyone tell me anything?”
The nurse pulled Kleenex tissue from a box on the desk and gave it to Lance. “Yes, Mr. Howell. She was conscious when the paramedics brought her in fifteen minutes ago. If you'll have a seat in the waiting area, the doctor will come out and talk with you as soon as he gets Mrs. Howell stable.”

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