Betrayal

by Dwayne S. Joseph

  Zeke downed the rest of his drink.

  “Calling the police on you and letting them take you to jail would have been too easy. It wouldn’t have been a good enough punishment for disrespecting me.”

  “Punishment?” Sam looked at Zeke as though he were crazy. “Instead of calling the police, you bring me to this fancy restaurant. I’m sipping on a beer waiting for my grub. Shit . . . your idea of punishment is a hell of a lot different than mine.”

  Zeke flagged down the waitress for another drink and then looked at Sam and said, “I didn’t just bring you here to feed you, Sam.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “So then why are we here?”

  “I want to offer you a job.”

  Sam pulled his head back a notch. “A job?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yo . . . I just tried to rob you.”

  “I know. I was there, remember?”

  “So then what you wanna offer me a job for?”

  The waitress brought Zeke his other drink, as well as their food. Zeke waited until she walked away to reply.

  “Jail was getting off easy for you, Sam. You wanted the fast money. You wanted the fast car. I’m going to show you how you can have those things, by working for them. Work is the real punishment for you young guys today. That’s why the jails are overflowing. You guys want things the easy way. You don’t want to work for anything. And because you don’t, you have no real concept of what value is. Without the understanding of value, you all have no pride. Without pride, you all continue to disrespect yourselves and others, and as you do that, more and more of you get thrown in jails so overcrowded, there’s no real opportunity to be rehabilitated into being contributing members of society. The funds, time, and, quite frankly, the desire by the system and people employed by it to help turn your lives around just isn’t there.”

  Zeke stopped talking and grabbed his fork to start eating. Sam’s stomach rumbled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a real meal. He grabbed his fork and began to eat his spaghetti.

  Zeke swallowed a forkful of his fettuccine, washed it down with Scotch, and then held up his fork.

  “This is your toughest challenge, Sam. You want the things I have, then this is your shot. Living without pride, living without a true understanding of value is easy. It’s like waking up and rolling from your back to your side and doing nothing all day. I’m giving you an opportunity to open your eyes, get out of bed, and strive for something better.”

  Sam looked at the fork and then back at Zeke, who was taking another mouthful of food. The fork in the road, he thought. A chance at having more in life. He said, “What happens if I turn the offer down?”

  “Then I call the police right now.”

  Sam looked at Zeke.

  Zeke stared back, his eyes as unflinching and deadpan as his tone had been.

  “So, basically I have no choice?”

  Zeke shook his head. “Oh, you have a choice, Sam. A clear choice.”

  Zeke picked up a forkful of spaghetti and slid it into his mouth. One week later, after clearing it with his parole officer, Sam was working in the mailroom, earning a marginal but real paycheck. He may not have known it about himself, but Zeke had seen something special in him. Just as Zeke expected, Sam worked his way up the corporate ladder over a six-year span to become head of marketing, answering only to Zeke, who he looked to not only as a friend, but as a father figure.

  One year later, after Jewell finally ended what he’d quietly observed as a relationship destined to fail, Sam received Zeke’s blessing to ask his daughter, who’d been as attracted to Sam as he’d been to her, on a date. Six months after their first date, Zeke became Sam’s father-inlaw.

  Now he was making well over six figures, living in a six-bedroom home with a ten-foot deep pool in the back. This was the life Zeke had promised he could have if he worked for it.

  Sam sighed and sat up from the bench. All this time, he thought. All this time I’ve been living on borrowed time.

  Because of his criminal record, Sam hadn’t been able to acquire anything on his own, so over the years, Zeke assisted him by either buying or co-signing for the things he owned.

  Or thought he owned.

  The cars. The home. His credit cards. His job.

  Until the ultimatum, he’d been living his life as though it had been his own, when it had never been his life at all.

  Sam wiped sweat away from his forehead. Stress, not the workout, was making him perspire now. He should have never given in to the advances. But she’d promised to go down on him. Said she would swallow him. Let him have her in any position he wanted. She’d wanted it hard, rough. She’d wanted it to hurt. Her promises to do and take it all had driven him wild. He wanted Jewell to let go that way, but she never did. He had been OK with it for a while, but the routine sex had eventually gotten to him, and he found himself becoming weaker as each day passed. His eyes began to wander more and more. He’d resisted until the intern arrived. Now his mother-in-law—a woman he respected and liked, even loved—had to die. To avoid his own death—because surely to go back to having nothing was comparable—there was no other option. As much as he wished there were, the fact was there were no other choices available.

  Sapphire had to die so that he could continue to live.

  His cell phone chimed suddenly, causing him to jump. He reached into the pocket of his sweat pants, pulled it out and looked at the caller ID. He expected it to be Jewell wondering why he had been taking so long.

  It wasn’t her.

  He took a breath, hit the talk button, exhaled, and said, “Yeah?”

  On the other end, Zeke said, “I want you to shoot her. In the heart.”

  Chapter 11

  “I want him killed, too.” Zeke stopped talking and pressed up and down on the top of the Bic pen he held in his hand. He sat behind his office desk in near darkness, save for a small lamp to his right illuminating the room in an ominous yellow, and the moonlight shining through the window. Spread out in front of him were the photographs of Sapphire and the other man. His head had been cut off in the photographs, signifying that his role was small in the grand scheme of things. His wife was having an affair and that’s what mattered. With whom was inconsequential.

  But Sapphire’s lie to him changed everything.

  Prior to then, he’d had only the photographs. Without question the photos had been all the proof he needed. But before her lie, Sapphire still had an out. She still had the ability to deny what his eyes had seen over and over and over again. Before the lie, if confronted with the glossy 8x11s, Sapphire could have said that someone had been trying to set her up. That the photographs had been Photo-shopped.

  She would never disrespect the vows she’d sworn before God and before family. She loved Zeke too much to betray him that way. How could he ever think that after everything they’d been through, that after the life they’d built together . . . how could he possibly believe she would do something like that?

  Photoshopped.

  Her head placed on someone else’s body.

  Couldn’t he tell?

  But what about the lips?

  You’ve kissed these lips a thousand times. Can’t you see the difference?

  I . . . I . . . yes. I suppose I can see it. The bottom lip is a little smaller. But the eyes . . . They look just like yours.

  Mine aren’t as slanted. Can’t you tell?

  I . . . I don’t know.

  What do you mean you don’t know? You don’t recognize my body, my lips, my eyes . . . Do you pay any attention to me at all?

  I . . . of course I do. The pictures just seemed so real. Well, they’re not, Zeke! They’re not real! I . . . I see that now. I can see the difference. Can you? Yes. Are you sure? Yes. I would never betray you, Ezekiel. Never! I know. And I’m sorry for questioning you. Burn those photographs, Zeke. Burn them. I don’t ever want them to be brought up again.

  OK.

 
I love you, Zeke. Do you believe that?

  Yes. Yes, I do. And I love you too.

  You have nothing to worry about, Ezekiel. My love is real. No other man could ever come between us, OK?

  OK.

  You’re my husband. I’m your wife, and our bond is secure. Don’t ever think it’s not.

  I won’t.

  You promise?

  I do.

  Burn those photographs, Zeke. Burn them and get those images out of your mind, because they’re not real.

  I . . . I will.

  Before the lie, that’s how the conversation should have gone. Before the lie, she had an out. It was slim, but it was there. But she said that she had been at Marlene’s house right after he’d seen her come out of the apartment building and walk across the street.

  She’d lied.

  It was over the phone, but he’d felt as though she’d been standing in front of him, looking at him face to face.

  She’d lied, and that made the anger, resentment, pain, and bitterness inside of him burn even more. He’d wanted her dead, yes. But now he wanted her to suffer. He’d wanted her to feel the pain she’d caused him. This was the decision he’d made after she’d gone back into the building.

  “I want her to know why she’s dying. I want her to know that I wanted her to die. I want her heart to break just before her life is taken.”

  Still on the bench at the gym, Sam shook his head.

  “Zeke . . . this is . . .” He paused. Chills came over him as a result of the intensely serious insanity in Zeke’s voice. “It doesn’t have to be this way, Zeke,” he finally said.

  “There is no other way, Sam,” Zeke said. “She betrayed me. You betrayed my daughter. This is the price you both have to pay for that betrayal.”

  “But, Zeke . . .” Sam paused again. He’d agreed to do it, but in the back of his mind there’d been a glimmer of hope that Zeke would come to his senses and realize that he could no longer continue to let his emotions rule his rationale. He was angry and hurt, but surely his bark was worse than his bite. “Zeke . . . you’re talking about murder.”

  “Are you backing out, Sam?”

  Sam clenched his jaws and squeezed his cell phone so hard it groaned in his hand and threatened to break.

  Was he backing out?

  He clenched his jaws again. He wanted to so badly.

  “This is payback, Sam. An eye for an eye. This is justice for all that I’ve done. I put my all into building the life Sapphire has come to enjoy. Everything she has. Everything she does. It’s all because of the time I’ve sacrificed. I never asked anything of her. All I wanted was her love and support. That’s all I ever needed from her, because that’s all it took to keep me whole. That’s all it took to keep me sane. Loyalty, Sam. That’s all I needed. But she betrayed me, and so did you.”

  “Zeke—”

  “I gave you my daughter’s hand, Sam, under the pretense that she would always be the most important thing in your life.”

  Sam breathed out. “She is, Zeke. I swear.”

  “Bullshit, Sam! That’s bullshit!”

  “Zeke—”

  “You want to talk about murder, Sam? Well, guess what . . . if anyone should be associated with that, it should be my wife. Because I’m dead, Sam. I died the day those pictures came, and there’s no one to blame for my death but Sapphire. My heart, my soul, my spirit—she shattered them. She’s the goddamned murderer! She’s the villain in the false love affair that I’ve been living. She has to pay and so do you.”

  “But, Zeke—”

  Zeke slammed his fist down on his desktop. “I gave you everything, you son of a bitch! You wouldn’t have shit had I never given you that job!”

  “I know, Zeke,” Sam said, cradling his forehead in his hand.

  “I could have had you locked away, but I gave you a chance. I gave you an opportunity to become something other than the nigga you were.”

  Zeke let out a growl and violently swept the photos from the desk.

  “You owe everything to me, you piece of shit!” Zeke raged.

  Sam sighed and said, “I know, Zeke.”

  “Your house. Your cars. Your credit cards. The job you have. You would have nothing if I didn’t purchase it or put my name behind it.”

  “I know,” Sam said again.

  “I trusted you, Sam. I put my name behind you. I walked my daughter down the aisle to you. Sapphire fucked another man. You fucked another woman. Somewhere down the line, you would have done to my daughter what that goddamned bitch did to me! Somewhere down the line, my little princess would have been devastated and broken inside. You have to pay, Sam. For what you did and for what you would have done . . . you have to pay. You will kill Sapphire. You will make her suffer before you do, or your life as you know it will be over.”

  Zeke paused and stared daggers at the photographs on the floor, his eyes fixed on Sapphire. Fixed on the expression on her face. He forced himself to take a slow, deep breath. He wanted Sam to be there in the office with him. Anger had him boiling inside. He wanted to hurt Sam. Wanted to punch him, kick him, choke him. He wanted to lose the control he’d been struggling to maintain. He wanted to let loose the anger.

  He stared at the picture. Stared at Sapphire as she bit down on her lip.

  He breathed.

  He couldn’t lose control.

  His sanity was riding on not losing what little of himself he had left.

  He took another breath and said, “Next Friday. That’s when I want it done.”

  Sam dropped his hand from his face. “Next Friday?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s . . . that’s not enough time.

  “That’s all the time you’re going to get, Sam.”

  Sam shook his head. “Christ, Zeke.”

  Sam clenched his jaws. He’d hurt others before, in his other life—back when he didn’t respect it and didn’t respect others. He’d knocked people unconscious. He’d fractured and broken bones. Before Zeke, Sam had the potential to graduate from being a typical street thug who could talk the killer’s talk, but never had the guts to walk the walk, to becoming a thug without fear, without remorse.

  That was the path he’d been on.

  Walking in a tunnel with no light in sight. Just darkness. Miles and miles of it. But then Zeke stepped out of the shadows with a candle in his hand and a promise to lead him out to safety. All he had to do was follow, and that’s just what he did.

  The path wasn’t always easy. On more than one occasion, the lure of the streets and the fast money to be made called out to him, promising that if he took a step back into the shadows one more time he would come out like a champ, because he was going to do it big. But despite the pull back to negativity, Sam resisted and continued to follow the candlelight.

  Before Zeke, Sam could have committed murder.

  But things were different now. He was different.

  He clenched his jaws. “Zeke . . . come on . . .”

  “Tell me no, Sam. Say it and I’ll come and pick you up and drop you off at your old neighborhood. Say no. Tell me that you won’t do it.”

  Sam’s throat went dry. His head began to hurt at the temples. Stress and anxiety hammering.

  Say no.

  He looked around and was glad to see that he was alone by the free weights. “I . . . I can’t . . .” he said before his voice trailed off.

  Zeke reached down and grabbed a photograph from the floor. Sapphire was looking into the camera, staring at him, mocking him. His fist closed around the photo at the sides, causing it to wrinkle.

  Sam barely breathed, the throbbing in his temples becoming sharper. He began to feel pain behind his right eye: signs of a migraine coming. Tension ran down from his neck, through his shoulders, down his back.

  “Can’t what, Sam?” Zeke asked. His heart ached for what he was putting his son-in-law through. He respected, Sam. Respected the fight in him. Respected the desire Sam had to want and become more. He admire
d his will and determination. He hated to do this to him, but he had no choice. Betrayal burned Zeke at his core. He was screaming on the inside a thousand times over.

  Betrayal.

  As far as Zeke was concerned, betrayal’s sting was worse than the pain of losing a loved one, because he would forever feel its effects. With death there was pain, but over time, that pain would subside. He would miss the loved one, but the certainty of the fact that the person would no longer be coming back was reassuring. He would never have to wonder why, if, when, or how. Death was final. You experienced it, you accepted it, and you moved on.

  The same couldn’t be said for betrayal. Sure, he could say that he would accept it for what it was. That despite how badly he was hurting, he would agree to forgive and leave the past behind. But as was the case with death, with betrayal there was no reassurance that he wouldn’t relive the pain. The why, if, when, and how would remain in the back of his mind, causing a thick, dark cloud of doubt to hover overhead. Every day, whether he remained with the purveyor of the crime, those questions would tear away pieces of his soul little by little, which would ultimately transform him from being the person he once was, to being a harder, colder, or possibly weaker, more broken individual.

  Zeke didn’t want that for himself.

  He didn’t want that for Jewell.

  At some point, she would go through what he was going through because even before it happened to him, he’d always felt that things done in the dark eventually came to light. From the day his little girl entered this world, he swore to always protect her. Holding her six pound body in his arms for the first time, he promised her with a kiss on her tiny forehead that no one would ever hurt her, and if anyone ever did, he’d make them pay.

  Betrayal.

  He loved Sam as though he’d been conceived from his own sperm, but he’d fucked the intern. Things done in the dark . . . At some point, his little princess was going to have to deal with his infidelity. He couldn’t and wouldn’t allow that.

  “Can’t what, Sam?”

  Sam struggled to draw a breath. He wanted to say it so badly. He opened his mouth to say it. But he couldn’t. “I . . . can’t say no.”