by H.H. Fowler
“Now, you’ve finally given me a name,” Izaiah spat. “What if I told you that I am not interested in interfering with your daughter’s life?”
“Of course you are,” Gregory countered, a sly grin creeping across his face. “I see the way that you look at her. Lust plagues every man.”
“It is not lust,” Izaiah rebutted in disgust.
“Oh, really? Are you implying that it’s something more?”
Izaiah had a few more choice words to say to Gregory, but he was frightened into silence by Miss Rose’s dramatic entrance onto the veranda. The rotund maid flung her bottom into one of the chairs and wailed as if she’d taken on the voice of a cockatiel. Both men jumped to their feet to console her.
“What is it, Miss Rose?” Gregory inquired sorely.
“The police called,” Miss Rose said in her heavy accent. “Somethin’ bad happen to boss lady!” Miss Rose threw herself against the back of the chair, violently pulling at her bosom. “My heart gon’ fail me…feel like me gon’ die…oh God…help a heart so tender…”
Gregory shook the maid. “Stay with me, Rose! What has happened to Dana?”
Miss Rose blurted out, “Boss lady was shot and she’s in the hospital fightin’ for her life!”
Gregory felt the ground move beneath his feet. No other words were exchanged. Like a man who had consumed a shot of Absinthe, Gregory staggered through the French doors. He could not explain why the news struck him so hard, but all he knew was that he had to get to the hospital to see what state Dana was in. Shot? You just not too long ago left here this morning, Dana. Where in the world have you been to have been shot? Gregory could not fathom the thoughts.
With Izaiah supporting him both men somehow made it into Gregory’s car. The drive was quick, but it was filled with absolute dread as the realization set in that Dana could be dead by the time they got to her bedside. The thought had almost caused Gregory to pass out in the passenger seat. Why did it matter to him? Because deep down, Gregory realized he still cared about the one woman who had stood by him all these years and if she left this world without knowing the truth about his actions, he would not be able to live with himself.
For the second time that day, tears began to fill Gregory’s eyes as he and Izaiah raced through the glass doors of the hospital. He had to wonder if God was trying to send him a message.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dallis had never been stood up before by the opposite sex. Well, to put it another way, she hadn’t dated that much to have experienced it, but she had hoped Anwar’s word was trustworthy. She had waited for him to show his face for over an hour at a restaurant located in the Quad. Dallis felt an hour was more than enough time needed to make a fool of herself. Anwar was not coming and she needed to accept that. This was one of the reasons why Dallis had reservations about dating. She hated to put her feelings on the line, only to have them crushed. Disappointed, she stood up from the table and made ready to leave the restaurant.
Maybe I should have listened to my intuition, Dallis thought. Anwar Daxon is not a boy I should get involved with. I’m not even sure what he really wants from me…the way that he speaks about my body is totally inappropriate. Her mind was castigating her decision, but her heart was singing a different tune. It had only been a little over a month since Anwar had joined the Bliss Haven swim team, but it felt as if she’d known him forever. It was that easy to carry on a conversation with him. The way that he listened to her, made her feel special. It had been his soothing words that kept her from falling apart after she’d finished third in the swim competition.
“I can’t believe you are sitting here moping,” Anwar had said, a wide grin on his face. He seemed genuinely impressed with her performance. “I didn’t know you had it in you, girl.”
Dallis turned away from him. “What are you talking about? I came in third.”
“Girl, with that crazy lineup of raw talent, if I had come in third, I would have been spinning on my head. I loved every minute of it! I can see that you will be a force to be reckoned with.”
Even though Dallis hadn’t shown it that day, those words warmed her heart. She was able to go home and not cry about the results. However, Anwar’s loyalty was questionable. Lately, Dallis noticed Anwar had not been coming around the swim club that much. If she recalled correctly, she may have only seen him two times within the last two weeks or so. Although the change in behavior appeared minimal, Dallis could not overcome the uneasiness she felt inside. She could not understand why she’d even agreed to meet Anwar, knowing she had conflicting feelings about him.
When Anwar had suggested they spend a little time together, she assumed he wanted to come clean about his little lie he’d told her father. She had called him out on it and then sat back and watched to see what he would do. Now, she had an answer. Anwar seemed to be one of those boys that would break her heart and leave her to moan over her regrets. Dallis did not intend to follow after Asia’s footsteps, when it came down to choosing a mate. There were always signs a woman should pay close attention to, especially when a man could leave a woman hanging alone in a restaurant, without having the decency to call.
Dallis crossed the street to her blue Kia Rio hatchback – one of three custom designed cars her father had bought for his daughters, each having a huge spoiler attached to the trunk. She had made up her mind about Anwar. She would befriend him, and would help him with his swimming career, but as far as exploring her feelings for him, she would nip it at the root, while it was still early in the game. Her heart was too precious to give to someone who clearly was not interested in receiving it. From now on, she would continue to hone her relationship with her Creator and wait on His choosing for her. Because human beings were bound to make stupid mistakes.
****
The empty beer bottle slipped out of Anwar’s hand, and landed on the ceramic tiles. The sound exploded in Anwar’s ears, causing him to jump out of a deep sleep. Lethargy was in his bones, but Anwar knew it was a nasty hangover from last night’s corruption. He eased up against the headboard and stayed there for a minute or so. It felt as if the entire room was spinning. He did not dare try to stand to his feet for fear of crumbling to the floor. He dragged his lazy gaze to his left and noticed that his client was still asleep in the bed – completely denuded of clothing.
Anwar slapped a hand to his mouth to stop the urge to vomit. He could not believe he’d spent the night with that mess next to him. A fat, out-of-shape, fifty-eight-year-old Saudi Arabian billionaire, who looked as if he’d swallowed a bloody whale. He’d heard Ms. V call him Mustafa. Anwar had already made up in his mind that no matter what gig he was given to perform, he refused to have sex with another man – as some of the other boys were doing. He’d never allowed a man to even look at him funny, much less let one of them put their hands on him. Ms. V must know that he was only interested in females and that his preference would never change. Didn’t his persona tell Ms. V that he was a ladies’ man?
Last night, when the client moved closer to touch him, Anwar’s first reaction was to draw back and knock him into next week. However, Anwar had to remind himself that clients were slapping briefcases of U.S. money on the table, matching the various levels of their filth. To keep his client from reporting him to Ms. V, Anwar decided to relax a little and proceeded to put on a show for the fat beast. Anwar was an excellent dancer and hoped his moves would thwart his client’s interest in having sex. It seemed to work for a short time, but after a while the client still wanted to run his fingers along Anwar’s body.
Anwar had to come up with another ruse, and quickly, because he realized his dance moves had only aroused that fool’s sexual appetite. The refrigerator was stocked with expensive wine and other alcoholic beverages. To proceed with anything, Anwar explained that he needed to loosen up by drinking a couple of strong drinks. His client agreed and before both men knew it, they were drinking heavily and laughing at every silly joke. Anwar staggered over to the spot where he had
rested the whip. Ms. V had told him that his client loved to be disciplined for his rudeness.
The idea quickly became an obsession for Anwar. He would enjoy whipping the hell out of this fat pervert, which was sort of a reprisal for such an indecent request. The session went underway with the client stripping out of his suit. The first whack landed heavily across the client’s fat butt. He screamed out in pain, but Anwar kept the whips coming fast, striking the client with as much power as he could muster. After several minutes, both men collapsed into a heap of drunkenness.
Soon, a knock on the door alerted Anwar back to the predicament that he was in. He was still dressed in his leather getup from last evening, but a horrible odor emanated from his body. He was dying to take a shower, hoping to wash away the dirt surrounding him. But instead, he staggered to the door and pulled it open. The mischievous smirk on Ms. V’s visage suggested something sinister. Anwar could tell she was surprised that he had ended up spending the night with the client. But it wasn’t even close to what she thought.
“This usually never happens,” Ms. V teased. “You must have outdone yourself last evening. But it’s all a little too soon. I don’t know if I’m impressed with it…” She wrinkled her nose, and took a few steps back into the hall. “What is that awful smell?”
“I know I need to take a shower,” Anwar groaned. “It’s the alcohol…I think I might have vomited all over myself. My head hurts and I could barely keep my eyes open. I feel terrible.”
“Go easy, my young stallion,” Ms. V advised. “I don’t need you dead before your next gig. Come see me in my office when you’re done cleaning up.”
“What time is it?”
“Five o’clock.”
Anwar’s eyes immediately livened with shock. “As in the afternoon?”
“You had that much fun that you don’t even realize the time of day?”
“I had somewhere to be at two thirty, that’s all.” Anwar rubbed a hand over his cornrows, disappointed that he had not kept his word with Dallis. “Oh man, I’ve really messed up; I need something to clear my head.”
“Tomato juice and celery,” Ms. V offered. “I find that it works for me. A Bloody Mary works just as well, but I don’t think your system can handle it.” She tilted her head, which gave the impression that she wanted to express compassion, but had a hard time pulling it off. “Do me a favor, Anwar. Take care of that pretty little face, because I would hate to see it go to the pits.”
Ms. V sauntered away, carrying her smothering presence along with her. Anwar staggered to the bathroom and turned on the warm water in the shower. He did not want to think about the consequences that awaited him when he got back to St. Elmo’s Valley. By now, his parents may have already called Jorge, trying to find out where their son had spent the night. He knew Jorge would cover for him, but he was at a loss as to how he would explain this to Dallis. She was a very perceptive girl. One false move and she would read him like a book. He had to come up with something to tell Dallis, because he knew she would demand an answer.
The water pressure was strong, so when Anwar stepped in under the blast, it felt as if six pairs of hands were massaging his entire body, making it an incredibly enjoyable experience. However, it hadn’t even been five minutes when Anwar heard the bathroom door open. Alarmed, he peeked through the haze of the shower glass and noticed the fat beast was standing there, in all his naked glory. Anwar was overcome with repulsion.
“Do you want some company, my little friend? Maybe you are ready for me now.”
Anwar slid the shower door open and yanked a towel from the rack. He tightly wrapped himself. Without a hint of a smile, he stared at the fat beast and said firmly, “Hell, nawh! I have to get up out of here. My mother is worried about me and probably has the police combing this entire island…”
It was something Anwar had made up on the spot, but he would be damned if he’d let this sadistic pervert push him into a corner and destroy his manhood. Anwar could see the lust drenched in his eyes.
“I will pay double for you,” the client said. “When are you coming back?”
Anwar yelled behind his shoulders, as he hurriedly slipped his legs through his pants. “I don’t know. Talk to Ms. V about your concerns. I probably won’t be back for a couple of weeks, though. I have to study for exams.”
Another lie, but Anwar was all about protecting himself. He had not signed up for this foolishness. By the time his client had walked back into the bedroom area, Anwar was exiting out of the front door – shoes in one hand and his shirt in the next. Better to get dressed in the hall than to stay in the lion’s den.
Every man is guilty of the good he did not do.
– Voltaire
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gregory had stopped every white coat in passing until he found someone to give him some information about his wife. He was told by the surgeon that a bullet was found lodged near Dana’s left kidney, which the surgeon deemed a very fortunate circumstance. Had the bullet entered an inch to the right, Dana’s condition would have been much worse, possibly fatal. However, she had struck her head against the floor, putting her into a temporary coma. The doctors could not tell to what extend the fall would affect Dana’s brain, but were positive that she would open her eyes soon. Gregory sat with Dana in a private room where she would begin the recovery process.
There was a tidbit of information that had dozens of questions attacking Gregory’s mind all at once. For starters, the medical examiner explained that the lifeless body of a male was found on top of Dana, which seemed to be an act of protection that had saved Dana’s life. With no form of identification on the male, there was no way of knowing who he was at the moment. Gregory couldn’t explain it, but he had a gut feeling that it was Chazz Brunswick. So he made the medical examiner take him to the morgue.
Certainly, it was the kid he’d paid to seduce his wife. He hadn’t seen him or heard from him in a while. If Gregory said that he was surprised that Chazz and his wife had been together at the time of the shooting, he would be telling a lie. Maybe in her disillusionment, Dana had found her way back to Chazz. He had been a strong temptation for his wife. Maybe it had been Chazz who contacted her, but whatever the reason, Gregory was now livid – even though he had been the one to set up the ruse. It was the whole idea of Dana not being able to say ‘no’ to Chazz’s seductive wiles. She wanted Chazz then and she wanted him now. That was why he blamed Dana for the rift in their relationship. Ruse or no ruse, Dana would have cheated on him with Chazz.
But Gregory did not resent his wife or Chazz to the point of such brutality. He would never wish for anyone to be shot to death. However, five thousand dollars had been wired to Chazz’s account, so Gregory was sure that this chapter of his life had been closed. The purpose for the ruse had been served and he didn’t need Chazz’s services anymore. So, two questions needed to be answered: Why all of a sudden had Chazz and Dana begun communicating again? And why was he targeted, along with his wife? Deep down Gregory knew the answers, but he did not want to acknowledge that maybe this could all be his fault.
Soon, the feeling of resentment slowly began to ebb away when he thought of the selfish reason why he’d paid Chazz to seduce his wife. But he maintained that this tragedy wasn’t supposed to happen. He had been promised that his family would be protected if he stuck to his part of the bargain. Gregory closed his eyes, and shook his head despairingly. He did not like how things were turning out. But no sooner had he closed his eyes, they popped back open, as if he’d received an electrical jolt.
Gregory stood up from the chair that was in front of Dana’s bed. She had not stirred since she’d been wheeled into the private room. She looked so peaceful, just lying there in her own little world. Gregory lowered himself and then softly pressed his lips against Dana’s. The connection almost stopped his breath, because after nearly three years, he had forgotten how it felt to kiss his wife. He sighed regretfully. He was in too deep with his mess for her to underst
and what was going on. Gregory exited the room in haste.
****
Izaiah had been in silent prayer the entire time, asking God to intervene on Dana’s behalf and to allow her to rejoin her family at home. He opened his eyes, just in time to see Gregory sprinting past the waiting area. Izaiah attempted to derail him.
“How is Mrs. Beaufort?” he inquired. “I’ve been praying for her.”
“Thank you. You can go in to see her,” Gregory said. “Considering the circumstances, she is coming along.” Gregory scanned the area for the rest of the family members, even though he had instructed Izaiah not to call them until Dana was out of surgery. “Where are Rose and my daughters? I thought they would have been here by now.”
“Rose and Asia are on their way,” Izaiah said. “I couldn’t get in contact with Dallis. It seems as if she turned off her cell phone.”
“Well, keep trying,” Gregory said. “I almost lost their mother; Dallis would want to be here. I will call Candi in Cayman and let her know what is going on.”
Izaiah nodded his response, adding in a concerned tone, “When you were passing, it seemed you were in a rush to go somewhere.”
“Yes,” Gregory paused, as if trying to decide how much he should reveal to Izaiah. Despite Izaiah’s little defiant streak, he genuinely seemed to care about people. Gregory was impressed and had grown very fond of Izaiah over the past few weeks, but Gregory feared that Izaiah wasn’t ready to handle certain levels of information. He did not want to scare the boy back to the United States. “I will be right back, should you need a lift back to the estate.”
“Take your time, sir. I can find my way back, if the need arises.”
Though Gregory could see the questions pooling in Izaiah’s eyes, he appreciated Izaiah not prying into the situation. It would be for Izaiah’s own good anyway, Gregory decided, that he stayed on the righteous path that he was on. Because Gregory knew better than anyone that one wrong decision could create a lifetime of painful consequences.