‘I guess she should have been spraying some kind of shit to keep BK, Braxton, or whatever-the-fuck his name is away. But it’s not all a loss; when I get hold of him, I am going to spray him with something that will keep him away for good,’ I think as Martinez helps me up the stairs.
Chapter Eighty-One ~ Until Death Do We Part
I promise to be your lover, companion and friend
Your ally in conflict, your greatest fan and your toughest adversary
Your comrade in adventure
Your accomplice in mischief
This is my sacred vow to you, Latavia, my equal in all things,
Until Death Do We Part!
—Darnell Maxell Carter
After tracking the location of Latavia’s car at the Hampton Inn in Midtown, we put two-and-two together. Martinez makes a few phone calls, and we are now in possession of the floor and room number for Mr. Kirkland. I am fine on the ride over, but when we pull up in the back of the hotel, my heat skips few beats.
“Are you sure you’re up for this, man? You don’t look too good,” Martinez says.
“I don’t have a choice. Until death, Martinez, until death do we part,” I reply as a single tear makes itself known. “I will take it from here. You can sit down here while I take care of this.”
“No, I can’t do that. I’m going in with you. I can’t afford for something to go wrong or for something else to happen to you, Officer,” Martinez pleads.
“You do understand, if things go wrong, you could lose everything you’ve worked so hard for? This is my fight and I have to do what I have to do, Officer,” I interject.
“I understand, and like you said, we will work out the story later. Now let’s go get this bastard!”
Taking the stairs to the fourth floor isn’t the wisest move on my part. It’s taking a lot out of me trying to climb these stairs and I am sweating like crazy.
“Let’s take an elevator, man. You’re going to overexert yourself and deplete all of your energy before we even get there,” Martinez suggests.
“I’m fine!”
We are now at our intended destination. I tell Martinez to stay in the stairwell, and if I am not back in ten minutes, to come looking for me.
‘Room 471,’ I think, knocking on the door.
The door opens without any acknowledgment and I, in turn, push my way in, aiming the gun at my intended target. Looking around the room, Latavia is nowhere in sight. There is a woman here, but she isn’t Latavia.
‘This isn’t the time to be confused or caught off guard,’ I think.
BK, the tough guy, must be aware of my hesitation, which is on my face. He starts talking out the side of his face.
‘He must think I am some kind of chump, but I’m about to call his bluff.’
As I pull the trigger, I silently recite, “I, Darnell Maxwell Carter, take you, Latavia Watkins, to be my lawfully-wedded wife, through the good and the bad, until death do we part.”
“Oh my God, please, sir, don’t kill me!” the woman frantically cries.
‘I know the sound of the gunshots is going to have PD swarming all over the place in a matter of minutes,’ I think as I muster up as much strength as I can to get out of the room and make my way back to the stairwell.
“D, what are you doing here? How did you . . . When did you get out of the hospital?” Darnell quizzes when I run smack into him.
Not wanting to involve him since Martinez is already ten-toes-deep into this, I try disregarding his questions; but I know my boy like I know myself, and there’s no chance in hell he’s going to just let this ride.
“Let me help you fix whatever it is, D,” he pleads.
“This is my problem, Nard. I’ve already involved Martinez when I shouldn’t have,” I reply.
“Where is he?”
“In the stairwell.”
“Stay here in the utility closet while I handle things from here,” he states, guiding me towards the closet. “I will be back in ten minutes tops. Please don’t move, D,” he instructs before shutting the door.
Little does he know, I can’t move; I’m all out of energy. I need to rest and regain my composure before sleep completely takes over me.
Chapter Eighty-Two ~ Latavia’s Turmoil
Jealously is a disease, love is a healthy condition.
The immature mind often mistakes one for the other,
or assumes that the greater the love, the greater the jealousy -
in fact, they’re almost incompatible;
one emotion hardly leaves room for the other.
Both at once can produce unbearable turmoil.
— Robert Heinlein
I can’t believe Nae put a gun to my head, threatening to take my life over Walter—my father, of all people. She acts like she wasn’t present or aware of all the awful things he did to me and made me to do her. It seems like everyone I’ve loved or have been with—voluntarily or involuntarily—she has to have a piece of them. Nae never came across as a jealous, insecure woman, but at this point, I am beginning to second-guess that. Everyone in my life I’ve loved has betrayed and hurt me.
“Latavia, is it all right for me to come in?” Nard questions from the other side of the door, pulling me away from my thoughts.
“Sure, why not?”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like you care, Bernard.”
“What makes you think I don’t care, Tae? I’ve risked so much for your well-being, but your selfish ass is too blind to see it.”
“I’m not in the mood for your shit; I don’t have the energy today.”
“My bad! We all are under a lot of pressure right now and everyone’s judgment has been a little off.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Let me ask you something: Do you remember everything that happened a few days back?”
“I recall everything up until I shot my father,” I whimper.
“Latavia, you didn’t shoot your father. The gun you had didn’t have any bullets in it. You shot blanks.”
“Bernard, you’re the one whose judgment is off. You have lost your mind. I am not crazy; I was there and I know what happened.”
“Listen to me, Tae. D followed you up to the hotel to try to get you away from Braxton. When he saw your father and you with the gun, he lost it. At least that’s what Nae is telling PD.”
“This isn’t making any sense! How in God’s name did he know where I was or what Walter looked like?”
“He is a police officer, remember, Latavia?”
“But not too long ago, Nae came in here confirming I’d shot my father. Why would she switch it up and blame Darnell?”
“She is also the same person who has been fucking your father behind your back, so put two-and-two together.”
All I can do is sob. I am not completely confused. I remember as clear as day shooting my father; the entire incident has continually replayed in my mind, over and over ever since. Why would Darnell risk everything for me after what I’ve done to him? None of this is adding up.
“Did you hear anything I just said, Tae?”
“I’m sorry; I got lost in my thoughts. What did you say?”
“I can fix all of this, but I need you to tell PD your father was already on the floor shot when you arrived in the room.
“I am not lying, Bernard!”
“Well, suit yourself! You will be pregnant in jail for a crime you didn’t commit. Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself? For once, you can do something for D and help him out, but because you didn’t get the revenge on your father you wanted, you’re insisting on trying to prove something to yourself by taking the blame. Have fun in prison,” he says, gathering himself to leave.
“Give me a minute, Bernard. Don’t leave just yet.”
Chapter Eighty-Three ~ What’s Going On?
The most confused we ever get is when we try to conv
ince our heads of something our hearts know is a lie.
— Karen Moning
“How long was I in the utility closet, when did I get out, and how did I end up back in a hospital?” I ask myself, looking around the room confused. Trying to get my mind right before talking to anyone, I decide to take a look at the newspaper on the window sill. Wrong move! Guess who’s the headline?
“The preliminary hearing for the murder trial of Officer Darnell Carter, charged with the shooting death of Braxton Kirkland and Walter Watkins, is set to begin a month from today. His lawyers says he will enter an insanity plea. Court records show the defense attorney, Jerry White, plans to call forensic psychiatrist, Dr. Alfred Monahan. Dr. Monahan has written a letter saying Officer Carter suffered from a brain disorder related to a head injury he incurred during a traffic accident several months back and wasn’t responsible for his actions during the shootings.”
‘What the fuck?’
“Hey, partner, glad to see you’re back from your catnap,” Nard jokes.
“How did I end up back here? And please tell what the fuck is going on. An insanity plea? Two murders?”
“D, you’ve been admitted to South Oaks. After you passed out in the utility closet, the paramedics had you transported to the hospital, and because of your condition, you were transferred here.”
“Because of my condition? Don’t bullshit me, Nard.”
“Long story short, when I went to look for Martinez in the stairwell he was nowhere to be found.
“He left me and I’m being charged with the murder of a Walter Watkins. Who the fuck is he?” I ask, cutting him off.
“That’s Tae’s, I mean Latavia’s, father. D, you mean to tell me you don’t remember that either?”
“No, I don’t, and somebody had better fix this shit! I shot one person and that was BK!”
“Listen, D, after taking care of everything, we contacted Martinez to find out what happened. He admitted to speaking with you at the hospital and filling you in from soup to nuts on everything that had gone down while you were unconscious, but he never accompanied you to the hotel.”
“That’s bullshit Nard!”
“D, calm down. We reviewed the tapes from the hotel, and they show you arriving alone at the back entrance via taxi.”
Torn: I Dont Need You, But I Want You Page 19