Déjà Vu

by Suzetta Perkins

  “Why don’t you let me help you with that fresh start? There’s a room ready for you at my house and you can call Club Platinum and give them your resignation.”

  “I have a place to stay,” Angelica said, her voice shaking.

  “You don’t belong there. That old neighborhood with its one-hundred-fifty-year-old houses, that’s not quite your style, that is, unless there’s somebody helping to make your accommodations more comfortable.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about the doorman that lives in the house you came out of.”

  “How do you know he’s a doorman? He could be a saxophone player.”

  “My contacts tell me he’s a doorman for a fancy apartment building in Manhattan. Nothing gets by me.”

  Angelica was quiet. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but Santiago’s knowing about Ari made her uncomfortable—like he was spying on her. What else did he know?

  “Cat got your tongue?” Santiago asked. “Look, I’ve missed you, Princess.”

  Angelica shuddered at the sound of the word Princess. She wasn’t a princess…just a slave that did his bidding. In the end, she got a few trinkets and five years in jail.

  “I want you, Angelica. I want to make love to you. You were a valuable asset to me once.”

  “I’ve put that life behind me, Santiago. Memories of prison have done that for me.”

  Tension was in the air. The driver kept his eyes straight ahead as he drove from Queens to Harlem, Harlem to lower Manhattan, and then over the bridge into Brooklyn. There was total silence for the next fifteen minutes, as they glided through Brooklyn, except for the constant tapping of Santiago’s fingers.

  “Niko, turn the car around and head for Queens. The lady is going to get her things, and then we’ll head into Long Island.”

  “Santiago, I’m not going with you. I want to live a simple and uncomplicated life, and being with you will make that difficult.”

  “Drive!” Santiago yelled at the driver.

  Beads of sweat formed on Angelica’s face. She knew that Santiago was ruthless, but she had never heard him raise his voice. She sat back in her seat, afraid to move and unsure of the consequences if she chose to do something other than what he wanted.

  A little music would have made the ride to Ari’s house more bearable, but the only thing she could hear was her heart beating. And she was glad for small favors.

  They reached Ari’s house in record time. Santiago barked for Angelica to hurry and get her things without loitering. She wanted to run, but where would she go? It would not be fair to Ari with all that he had done for her to intrude on his generosity any longer.

  Angelica found Ari sitting in the living room and watching TV. His eyes followed her as she strolled straight to her bedroom without a word, and then he went back to watching television as soon as she was out of sight.

  She returned moments later with the straps of her Hobo flung over her shoulder, followed by the suitcases that had accompanied her to New York. She stopped where Ari sat and looked at him.

  “Ari, I care about you. Today would have been the happiest day of my life, if…if,” she sighed, “Santiago had not shown up here.”

  “Who is he? Why are you going with him?”

  Ari was almost pleading for the truth. It made leaving harder than she’d anticipated because part of her wanted to be with this man.

  “I’ll have to explain later, Ari. All I can say is that my past has come to haunt me, to make me pay for my sins.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ve done all that I could do. In some ways, I wish I had never laid eyes on you. It’s plain to see how you can seep into a man’s soul without even trying, but I should’ve known it would be hell to pay, falling for you. Go on to your…your demon, your past…or whatever it is. Just don’t call me again. I’m through. I’m through with you, Angelica.” He raised his hands and shooed her away.

  “Ari, I’m so sorry. Believe me when I say I want to stay. I…I want to stay with you, Ari. Believe me.”

  A loud knock at the door startled them.

  “Go, Angelica, and leave me alone.”

  The tears flowed, and she turned and left without another word. Ari went to the front window and peeked out, in time to watch Angelica get into the car. A frown formed on his face; something was not right.

  31

  Weeks had passed since Margo had last seen Malik. She brushed her lips with her finger as a repressed memory of the day Malik kissed her ushered forth. It was an exciting moment that ignited sparks throughout her body—something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

  Weeks had passed since she and Jefferson had slept in the same room as well, although they were still under the same roof. His mood was somber as he rummaged and piddled around the house in a deep funk, knocking things over and slinging a few choice words about what he’d do to Malik.

  Margo wasn’t sure what it all meant. Part of her wanted to embrace her husband and heal the wound, close the rift that had already torn them apart. However, there was the other part of her that threatened war—a battle between good and evil where she would take what belonged to one and give to another, making her ready to taste and see if life was truly greener on the other side.

  Margo jumped. She wasn’t sure how long Jefferson had been watching her. She hadn’t heard him come into her bedroom—their bedroom—and then she noticed that he was standing straight without the aid of his walker. Surprise registered on her face.

  “Thinking about him?” Jefferson asked as he leaned against the door frame.

  “When did you stop using your walker?” Margo asked, ignoring his question.

  “Living under the same roof, but you don’t have any idea what’s been going on with me.”

  Margo sat down on the cedar chest in front of the bed. “Jefferson, I remember a moment when I begged and pleaded for you to love me. You had my undivided attention. I would have done anything for you because I loved you that much. Remember? But you didn’t want me.”

  “Why are we rehashing this, Margo? I’ve told you over and over again how much I love you. I’ve asked for forgiveness more times than I can count. You told me that you were going to be by my side through it all, and it was that acknowledgment that gave me the strength to survive that hellhole. I’ve paid the price, but I will never forgive myself for what I’ve done to you.”

  “What are you going to do with the rest of your life? I can’t stand by and watch your daily pity parties, Jefferson. They’ve gotten old. It’s time to get up off your duff and do something with yourself.”

  “So, is this about my not being able to provide for you or is it an attempt to find some excuse to leave me for someone else? It’s not enough that my wife won’t sleep with me…make love to me, but humiliate my manhood? Do you think Malik can provide for you better than me?” Margo didn’t answer. “Well, maybe you should be with him. Yeah, go be with him. I can’t do anything for you. I’m a broke, jobless ex-con.”

  Jefferson turned to leave. In his haste, his left foot didn’t move as fast as the rest of his body, and he fell to the floor. He grabbed his knee and began to rub it when he felt a warm pair of hands on top of his own.

  “I’m not going to leave you, Jefferson. You’re my husband and will always be. Let’s get you up from the floor and get some ice on that knee. We’ll work this out somehow.”

  Jefferson looked up. “Do you mean it, Margo?”

  She looked past him with a vacant look on her face. “Yes, I mean it.”

  32

  She was a prisoner in Santiago’s sprawling mansion. It was tucked away on Long Island in the Hamptons, far enough away from the grind of the city but close enough to be there in under an hour. A tall, wrought-iron fence circled the property, and a security guard manned the gate that gave entry. The stone house was surrounded by lush greenery as well as a variety of flowers that reminded Angelica of Santiago’s place in North Carolina. A long stone pa
thway intersected with a circular driveway and led to the house. For some it was the breeze from the ocean, for others it was the view that made it a spectacular piece of real estate.

  Thirty rooms she counted in all: nine bedrooms, nine bathrooms, a large gourmet kitchen, a formal living and dining room, an entertainment center, a movie theater with high-backed velvet seats, a workout room with every conceivable piece of gym equipment, two nine-by-ten, walk-in closets that held Santiago’s leisure and casual clothes in one and the other his suits and formal attire, an indoor basketball court with its own bathroom facilities was accessible by way of the workout room, and in the lower level of the house were two rooms for the hired help along with the washroom facility.

  The house in the Hamptons was a place Angelica would have died for if her companion had been anyone other than Santiago. It was reminiscent of the homes she saw in her daydreams, and for sure she would have been the perfect fit. But it wasn’t her home, and she wasn’t even sure why she was there or what Santiago was planning.

  She was forced to quit her job at Club Platinum much to the disappointment of Gerald Lloyd. Angelica liked her freedom and the idea of making a nice sum of money for a few hours of dancing with a pole while she intoxicated her nameless admirers suited her just fine. But it was Ari she thought about all the time—his kindness and her disappointing him.

  She had last seen him staring into Donna’s coffin. Angelica wondered if Ari blamed her for Donna’s demise. Her attempt to speak with him was met with contempt, but at least she tried. It was difficult getting to the funeral because Santiago refused to let her go—maybe he thought she was going to run—but he gave in in the end.

  Many of Hamilton’s family members crowded the small cathedral—some she recognized and some she didn’t. It seemed as though the area’s entire gay and lesbian community was there as well as many notable celebrities that Donna had either worked with or had some ties to. The police still didn’t have a suspect in custody. It was a shameful act of cowardice, and Angelica hoped that whoever killed Donna would pay dearly.

  Needing something to do, Angelica went to the exercise room. Dressed in a purple pair of spandex tights and exercise bra, she walked into the room and examined each piece of equipment until she came to the Bowflex machine. She straddled the bench and placed her arms around the metal bar, applying pressure as she lifted the twenty-pound weights.

  Angelica rested as her mind raced, contemplating what she was going to do and how she was going to get away from Santiago. He barely spoke to her, yet he was insistent that she be with him. Something was looming on the horizon; Angelica could feel it deep down. It frightened her—the not knowing, all the secrecy that seemed to surround Santiago’s daily activities—but the not knowing was the price she was paying for selling him out the last time they were together.

  She did four sets of ten lifts and then she heard voices. They were coming from the basketball court. Whoever it was must have come in through a side door. Easing down the metal bar, Angelica stiffened and listened to the voices that were getting louder. She could hear Santiago’s above the others. He cursed at his companions and threatened to reduce their pay if…Someone picked up a basketball and began to bounce it hard on the floor, drowning out all conversation. Angelica wanted to get up and peek, but she remained frozen to the equipment and prayed she wouldn’t be discovered.

  The ball stopped hitting the floor and the muffled voices began to fade. Angelica hadn’t seen any more than two people at any given time with Santiago—his “goons” she had called them. Operation Stingray was dead as far as she knew, but she was smart enough to know that if Santiago was purchasing and selling weapons in North Carolina, surely he was doing that or something similar to it in New York. There was no evidence of his wrongdoing in this house where she was so free to roam, but somewhere there was an answer, and her mind said the answer lay at the restaurant she had visited the first night she had laid eyes on Santiago again.

  She sat for five or ten minutes before deciding to get up. Crossing her leg over the bench, Angelica was about to stand up when Santiago appeared. He moved toward her without a word, coming to sit at the end of the bench. He lifted her leg and brought it back over so that she was straddling the bench once again, except that he now faced her.

  “Looked all over the house for you,” Santiago said. “You hiding out?”

  “No, I wanted to get some exercise,” Angelica assured him. “Not much else for me to do.”

  “In time, my Princess. I’ve been so involved with a project I’ve been working on, and I’ve been inattentive. Forgive me.”

  “Santiago, I’ve been your captive for over a month. You made it seem urgent that I come with you right away, and yet I’ve barely seen you the whole time I’ve been here. What are you up to? Why am I here? I know I don’t mean anything to you.”

  Santiago gave Angelica a puzzled look. “Captive? Are you trying to say that I kidnapped you?”

  “I didn’t have a choice, now did I?” Angelica roared back.

  “No one held a gun to your head, Angelica.”

  “It was invisible, but I felt it in my back.”

  Santiago laughed. “You mean everything to me, Princess. Things will get better soon, you’ll see. How about I take you to dinner tonight at El Conuco? Uncle Jorge and Aunt Maria would love to see you again.”

  Something smart wanted to come out of Angelica’s mouth, but she thought better of it. She needed some air and, maybe, she would find a clue to what Santiago was doing. “I’m overdue for some fun, although I thought we might do something else, but dinner at your family’s restaurant will be fine.”

  “Well that’s settled,” Santiago said, inching his body toward Angelica’s.

  Her stomach crawled up in knots as he crept toward her. He rested his large hands on her thighs and massaged the length of them—his diamond-encrusted rings sparkling. Angelica shivered as Santiago’s hands glided from her thighs to her waist and, when he reached for her breasts, she blocked his hands with her own with such force that they hit the bench pad with a thud.

  Santiago grabbed her hands and pinned them behind her. “If you won’t give it, I’ll take what’s mine.”

  “That’s rape.”

  “No, because you’re going to consent to every minute of it.”

  “I hate you!” Angelica screamed. “Your ass should be the one in jail. I don’t know how you’ve gotten away with your mess all these years.”

  “And I should have had you killed for running to the police after all I’d done for you. I let you live, and now you’re going to repay me for the ill you’ve caused me.”

  Angelica sighed and relaxed. Santiago released his grip on her.

  “Now, that’s better.” He pulled her to him and kissed her on the lips. Angelica did not respond, but he continued until her lips parted and she felt in the moment.

  Santiago smothered her with kisses and lay her down on the bench. Heavy breathing mixed with lustful moans filled the room. Rough foreplay caused the steel bar that was suspended overhead to shift to the left, then the right, but it didn’t deter the heat of passion that had consumed the former foes.

  Rough hands tore the clothes from Angelica’s body. Santiago held her breasts and sucked them like he was a baby who was taking milk from his mother. Unable to quench the fire in his groin, he pulled off his clothes and took what his body couldn’t resist. To his surprise, Angelica accepted his passion with the same intensity.

  It was Ari’s face Angelica saw when Santiago entered her. She tried to substitute the moment she had with him for the one she was presently having, but realization took over and reminded her that the thing that had set her on fire was the enemy. In an instant, survival became Angelica’s number one goal, and if it meant sleeping with the enemy, so be it until she was able to come up with a plan. She would outwit the fox before it consumed her whole.

  Santiago looked like a man in a drunken stupor as he rode the last tidal wave to ecsta
sy. Sweat rained from his body, sending heavy droplets down on Angelica. She wiped them away in disgust, wanting it all to be over.

  “Take me,” he screamed as his cell phone began to ring. He tried to ignore it, but Angelica’s body was already relaxed and thankful for the interruption. Santiago reached for his pants, retrieved his cell phone and immediately pulled himself away from her.

  After missing the call, Santiago made another. Angelica watched as he listened and saw a broad smile cross his face.

  “We’re done for now,” Santiago said. He picked up Angelica’s clothes and laid them next to her. “Clean up. We’re going out to dinner.”

  Santiago put his clothes on and left the room. Angelica picked up her clothes from the bench and rolled them in a ball. She was angry with herself for letting Santiago have his way so easily, but the truth of the matter was that she was afraid of him.

  She slid into her things and went to her room. A hot shower would erase the scum that had infiltrated her body.

  The vibration of her cell phone made Angelica jump as it danced across the dresser. She picked it up and smiled when she recognized Edward’s number. There was nothing like a friendly voice to talk to, especially since she hadn’t spoken to her brother in weeks and he had no knowledge of her predicament.

  “Edward! This is a pleasant surprise.”

  “The phone system works both ways, Little Sis. How have you been?”

  “I can’t complain,” Angelica lied. “I’ve had better days.”

  “Well, I’ve got some bad news.”

  “What kind of bad news? Something happened to Michael?”

  “No, thank God.”

  “Well, what is it then?”

  “Hamilton is dead, Angelica. He was murdered.”

  “Hamilton? Dead?” Angelica dropped the phone and sank to the floor.

  33

  Achill ran through Angelica’s body. All around her people were dying, but she hadn’t expected to hear Hamilton’s name in that context. True, she and Hamilton hadn’t been husband and wife in more than seven years, but she still felt a connection to him.