A Love Like This (Book 1)

by Lane, Kimberly

  “Whatever you say Mrs. Bradley,” he says. I like the way that sounds.

  Chapter 12

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Pookie ask as Keisha drives up to the front of Nickie’s apartment. “We’re just going out for coffee. Keisha needs to know all the details of Baby’s drunken wedding.” That’s all Pookie and Keisha have talked about since she picked them up from the airport. Nickie isn’t sure what more there is to say. Besides she is consumed with thoughts of her own ridiculous life. If someone had told her a few years ago that she would be in an abusive relationship she would have laughed in their face. She made all kinds of plans for her life and they were all put on hold because she thought she was in love. Well love is not supposed to hurt, not like this.

  “I still can’t believe you two let her get married,” Keisha says interrupting Nickie’s thoughts.

  “Anyway,” Pookie replies with a dismissive hand wave. “Just come with us Nickie.”

  “No I’m really tired. It’s been a long weekend I just want to get some rest,” Nickie says. She’s sitting on the back seat wringing her hands and looking from side to side for signs of Damian. Pookie is watching through the rear view mirror. “I’ll call you guys later. There’s something I need to take care of,” she says as she climbs out of the car.

  Nickie stands on the sidewalk and watches them drive away. She waits for the car to be out of sight before moving quickly up the stairs leading to her apartment. Once inside she takes out two trash bags and begins to shove clothes, shoes and books inside. She glances at the clock on the microwave. Nickie knows the exact time Damian will be coming by to check on her. She hasn’t responded to his calls for more than twenty-four hours but she listened to all six of his messages after boarding the airplane in Oakland. Each one was more irate than the last. She knows she has to get out now before she loses her nerve.

  Nickie’s heart feels as if it might leap from her chest as she races around the tiny apartment stuffing the trash bags with all of her earthly possessions. Damian chose this place. She’s always hated it because it’s plain and boring just like the clothes he makes her wear. She takes a quick scan of the room and her gaze lands on the Roberto Cavalli shoes she’s wearing. Damian gave her his credit card to buy clothes. She knew the type of clothes he preferred; neutral colors and shapeless earth tones. She bought one outfit that would meet his approval. She knew what would happen if she didn’t follow his instructions to the letter but the Cavalli’s were calling her name. He could afford them so she purchased the shoes and hid them in her closet for weeks. She would try them on whenever she was alone. They were just shoes but they made her feel so beautiful. Damian got the credit card statement and was livid. She told him that she would return the shoes but it was too late his wrath was awaken. She takes the shoes off and throws them across the room picks up the bags and turns to run out the door.

  “Are you going on another trip?” Damian says from the door way. Nickie screams and drops the bags. Damian steps into the apartment and slams the door behind him. He drops his coat and keys on the couch and slowly walks towards her. Nickie backs away. “I’ve missed you,” he says his voice like ice and his expression callus. She can hear her heart thumping in her ears as he approaches. His eyes are black and cold. Nickie looks around the room for an escape. Beads of sweat are forming on her head and her breathing is labored. If she screams she knows the beating will be worse. She closes her eyes and waits. The first blow is always the worse she thinks to herself as she tries to steady her breathing. The sudden shock, the hard impact--- she was unprepared for the blow to her face. Hate often is confused she says to herself as she lies on the floor dazed from the pain on her cheek. She hides her face in her hands and waits for the next blow. Seconds pass and there’s nothing but silence.

  “What the fuck’s going on in here?” Keisha calls out from the front door. She slips out of her heels and takes a rubber band out of her pocket. She pulls her hair into a ponytail as she walks across the room. “Nickie get your shit,” she says as she moves toward Damian. He’s at least six inches taller than her but watching Keisha walk up to Damian you’d swear they were the same size. Nickie scoops herself off the floor.

  “Nickie don’t you move,” he demands.

  “Have you lost your motha fuckin mind?” Keisha says and punches him in the face before he has a chance to say another word. She steps back and widens her stance as if she might leap on him at any moment. “You like hitting women, than hit me.” She says reaching for her back pocket. Damian stands his ground. He is looking at Keisha with large crazy eyes. Nickie sees that his fists are balled and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. His cheek is already starting to swell in the place where Keisha struck him.

  “I’ll go with you,” Nickie says picking up the bags and scrambling for the front door.

  He steps in front of her. “You can go but everything in those bags belongs to me.”

  “I only took the clothes I had when I moved here.” Nickie says avoiding his eyes as she steps around him on wobbly legs and hefts the bags towards the front door. Keisha backs away with the box cutter that was in her back pocket firmly in her grasp.

  “If you ever come near my baby sister again,” Keisha pauses for a second and smiles at Damian, “You feel that vein that’s pulsating on the side of your neck; I’m going to slice right through it and stand over you while you bleed to death.”

  Damian’s hand involuntarily moves up to his neck. He swallows hard. “You’ll be back,” he yells to Nickie. His voice cracking in his throat, “No one will ever take care of you the way I do.”

  Keisha picks up her shoes at the front door. She holds the box cutter in front of her throat and makes a slicing motion with her teeth bared. She sneers and mouths the words, “gonna kill ya,” to Damian before following Nickie down the stairs.

  They rush to the car. Pookie pops the trunk open and Nickie shoves her bags inside. She opens the back door and slides onto the seat. She collapses in a heap and rests her stinging cheek against the cold leather.

  “What happened?” Pookie asks as he swings Keisha’s car out into traffic. After dropping Nickie off he and Keisha circled the block and parked a few yards away from Nickie’s apartment. When they saw Damian walk up the stairs they tried calling to make sure Nickie was alright. She didn’t respond so Keisha insisted that Pookie allow her to go up alone. She knew that Pookie would try and defuse the situation. He’d talk everyone down and make nice. Keisha didn’t want the situation defused she wanted blood.

  “He hit her in the face. That’s what fuckin happened,” she says reaching in her purse for her cell phone. Nickie sees her rustling around.

  “Keisha what are you doing?” Nickie asks. She doesn’t respond. Keisha’s suspected that Damian’s been abusive for some time but Nickie always denied it. “Please don’t tell Momma and daddy. I promise I’ll never see him again,” Nickie says through her sobs.

  “You may not want your parents to know but someone has to do something about him,” Pookie says.

  “I’d rather call the police and file a report than tell anyone in the family,” Nickie says covering her face with her hands. “Can we please talk about this later? I just want to rest,” she says blinking away burning tears. They ride to Keisha’s house in silence. Nickie gets a change of clothes from the bags in the trunk and takes them into Keisha’s bathroom to shower and change.

  She scrubs her skin and hair and stands in the shower until the water runs cold. She looks at herself in the bathroom mirror. There’s a purple bruise on her face where Damian punched her. She gets dressed and walks out of the bathroom feeling defeated. “Where are all the kids,” Nickie asks dryly. Keisha and Pookie are sitting at the table with three glasses in front of them.

  “Doug took them to his parent’s house and out for ice cream.” Pookie pours Nickie a glass of wine and refills his and Keisha’s glass
. Keisha takes the ice pack off her bruised fist and hands it to Nickie.

  “I’m sorry about your hand,” Nickie says.

  “It’s ok,” Keisha says extending her fingers.

  Pookie reaches over and gently touches Nickie’s bruised face. “I wish you could see how special you are. You deserve so much better than this.”

  Nickie takes a long gulp of wine and blinks away tears.

  *****

  Nickie wakes up early Monday morning with a Hot Wheel track stuck to her face and little Xavier standing in front of her. He’s staring with his mouth wide open and his index finger up his nose.

  “Hello little X,” She says sitting up. Last night she passed out on the couch after one glass of wine. She was emotionally exhausted.

  “What happen to yo face,” he says pulling his finger out of his nose and wiping the remnants on his shirt.

  “I ran into a door,” she says.

  “X leave your aunt alone,” Keisha yells from the kitchen. Little Xavier sticks his finger back in his nose and walks off. Nickie drags herself from the couch and ambles into the kitchen.

  “How are you feeling?” Keisha asks. She’s dressed in jeans that hug her round bottom a loose fitting blouse with a plunging neckline and high heel booties.

  “My face is a little sore but I’m ok,” She says pouring herself a cup of coffee. Nickie adds cream and watches as the steaming dark liquid fades and lightens. Keisha is packing the kids lunches. She packs peanut butter and jelly for some, turkey with cheese for others and places the lunches in individual lunch boxes.

  “Do you feel like talking?”

  Nickie feels Keisha watching but she doesn’t look up to meet her gaze. She plunges into the story, “The first time he hit me was a few weeks after we started dating. You remember I told you we broke up but I didn’t tell anyone why?”

  “Yeah I remember.”

  “Well he promised he would never do it again. I believed him so we got back together” She shakes her head, “I brought this all on myself.”

  “You didn’t make him hit you. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me?”

  Nickie looks up at Keisha. She has tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was so humiliated that I couldn’t tell anyone.”

  “The physical scars will heal but a broken spirit could last forever if you let it.” Nickie nods her agreement. Keisha walks over to hug Nickie. Nickie wraps her arms around her sister and lays her head on Keisha’s chest. “There isn’t a woman alive who hasn’t been a fool for a man at some point in her life.” Keisha holds Nickie at arms link and looks into her eyes. “I’m all for a man taking control but you can’t give anyone total power over your life. The only thing that matters now is that you learn from your mistakes.”

  Nickie thinks back to Riley. She remembers how he just handed over his credit card without even asking if she wanted to stay longer.

  “Alright I’m going to get the kids up for school. I could really use your help at the shop today. I’ve been over booked for the last few days. You can make appointments and shampoo my clients.”

  “Okay I’ll help,” Nickie says. She sits down and takes a sip of her coffee. Keisha sees that she still looks sad.

  “What is it Nickie.”

  “What do I do now?”

  “You can stay here as long as you want aside from that I don’t have any answers for you. It’s your life,” Keisha says. “You have to choose.”

  Chapter 13

  Mike is sitting in a high back black leather chair behind a mahogany desk in his new corner office at Stockman and Grant. He’s taping his fingers on the desk looking at the stack of research portfolios in front of him.

  “Mr. Dubois you have a call on line two,” his secretary announces over the intercom.

  “I’m very busy right now Emma, who is it?”

  “It’s Samantha Ceballos sir should I put her through to voicemail.”

  “No, I’ll take the call,” he says straitening his posture and adjusting his tie.

  “Hello Mike,” Samantha’s sultry words pour out like honey.

  “Samantha,” Mike says leaning back in his chair. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Too long,” she replies. “I’m in town on business. I’m meeting a buyer at a new gallery in Pacific Heights. I was hoping we could all get together for lunch.”

  “By we you mean----“

  “You, me and Tucker,” She says. “The three of us use to have so much fun together before----” She pauses.

  Mike is silent on the other end of the line. A dull ache settles in his chest. To this day Samantha is the only woman who has the power to make him lose his cool. She utters his name and he’s a gangly, pimple faced teenager again. Samantha, Mike and Tucker remained friends throughout junior high and high school but they lost contact when Samantha went away to study art history at a small school in Maine. She resurfaced four years later at a dinner party Mike’s parents were hosting. Samantha walked in on shapely tan legs and it was as if the junior high school revelry between Tucker and Mike never ended.

  “Are you there?”

  “I’m here,” He says. “Have you called Tucker?”

  “Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that. Every time I call his house a woman answers. Is he seeing someone?”

  Mike exhales loudly, “I don’t have time for this,” he says.

  “How can you still be mad at me? It’s been more than two years.”

  “Bye Samantha,” He says limply before disconnecting the call.

  Mike stands to his feet and walks over to the window. He watches the cars in the financial district crawling by bumper to bumper at a snail’s pace. He thinks about how easy it would be to get in his car drive off and never look back. “I have to tell him what I’ve done. It’s fuckin with my head,” Mike says to the empty room. He marches over to his desk and presses the button that summons his secretary. She emerges quickly with a knowing look on her solemn face. Mike wonders if she’d been listening in on his call but the woman’s stiff ridged demeanor is impossible to read. “I need you to fax the budget projection report to Mr. Urbane in accounting. I also need you to forward all of my calls to my cell phone for the remainder of the day.”

  “Yes sir,” she says writing notes on her legal pad before disappearing as quickly as she had appeared.

  Mike sends a text message to Tucker picks up his jacket and brief case then heads out the door.

  _______

  Tucker opens my car door when we reach the dorm parking lot. I step out wearing the same outfit I left in on Saturday. I notice a few people watching as we slowly walk towards the dorms hand in hand.

  Tucker’s phone chimes indicating he has a text message. He reads the message and says, “I’m meeting Mike in the city for lunch. Do you want to come with us?”

  “Absolutely not, you two need to have boy bonding time and I need to register for next semester.”

  We reach the door to my room and he nuzzles against my neck. He enfolds his firm arms around my waist and lifts me until we’re eye to eye. I ignore gawking onlookers and drape my arms around his shoulders then burrow my fingers in his thick curls. He presses me against the wall and kisses me sliding his hot tongue into my mouth. I have to pull away because I feel the itch return. “We shouldn’t do this in the hall. Don’t forget you still work here. Come in for a minute,” I whisper in his ear. He lowers me to my feet and follows me into the room where of course Sarah is sitting on her bed sliding her painted pink toenails into Jessica Simpson espadrilles.

  “Hey,” she sings out. “How are my favorite newlyweds?”

  Tucker pulls me close and presses himself against my back. “We haven’t told anyone yet. I’m sure Tucker doesn’t want it getting back to his parent’s before he’s had a chance to tell them. So let’s just keep it quiet until we figure it all
out.”

  “Oh Leila,” she says tilting her head as if she’s talking to a disobedient puppy. “I can tell by your dilated pupils that you were coming in the room for a nooner. I think you already have it figured out. Remember I told you my dad’s a lawyer and I know it’s very difficult to annul a consummated marriage. You two, “She says pointing at Tucker and I “Have been consummating like bunnies.”

  I slip out of my shoes and Tucker walks over to my bed and sits down. He picks up my journal and starts thumbing through the pages. I snatch it away before he has a chance to read it. “Why can’t I read it,” he says flashing those dimples. I hold the book out of his reach.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Sarah says shaking her head as she walks towards the door.

  “I shove the book under my mattress.

  “Leila have you decided what you’re doing for spring break and your birthday next week? Steve and I broke up, I need something to do.”

  “You started dating someone and broke up over a weekend?” Sarah just looks at me as if I asked a ridiculous question. “Well ok,” I say. “I haven’t seen my family in months. I’m going home for the week. I’m sure they’ll have something planned for my birthday you’re welcome to come with me, they’ll love you.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Sarah says excitedly. Her expression changes and I realize that I hadn’t mentioned spring break to Tucker. My back is turned but I can feel his eyes are on me. “Ok I’d better go,” she says grabbing her bag and rushing out the door.

  “I should leave to,” he says standing to his feet with an annoyed look on his face.

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” I say gently pushing him back onto the bed. I sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. I should have asked you first. I would love for you to come and meet my family,” I say even though the thought of bringing Tucker back to LA scares me to death. Every boy that has ever walked through my front door with the intention of dating me has left terrified after just minutes with my daddy.