Hate the Way He Loves Me

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by Stacey Covington-Lee




  Hate The Way He Loves Me

  By Stacey Covington-Lee

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  PUBLISHED BY: Delphine Publications on Smashwords

  Copyright © 2014 by Tamika Newhouse

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Dedication

  This is for my “Ride or Die” Cassandra Smith. You encouraged all of this and I am forever grateful to you. I love you and you shall always remain in my heart.

  Acknowledgements

  Not everyone is able to recognize their God given talents. I thank The Lord for blessing me with the gift of writing, allowing me to live out my dreams and surrounding me with supportive people. God is good to me! Thank you, Kenneth and Joshua Lee for your support of my work, your patience with me and willingness to travel with me while I do this “writing thing.” I love you both so dearly. Thank you Mommy (Myrtice Covington) for your love and wisdom and for selling my books like no one else can. Thank you to my Delphine Publications family for all that you do. And a huge thank you goes out to my readers. The love and support you’ve shown me is incredible and it encourages me to be a better writer for you. Thank you!

  Hate The Way He Loves Me

  CHAPTER ONE

  Exhausted, Zoe fell into bed at 11:00pm with high hopes of a long, peaceful slumber. But by 3:30am, she was tossing, turning and grunting in her sleep. The disturbing dream quickly turned into a nightmare that had Zoe screaming and swinging at the man that haunted her dreams almost every night. With her arms flailing about, Zoe hit the headboard with her hand and the pain that it caused jolted her back to full consciousness. She sat up in bed with sweat running down her face. Looking around, she realized that she was alone in the sanctity of her home. Wiping her face, Zoe cursed her father for once again ruining what was to be a perfect night’s rest. Hoping that she’d at least made it through most of the night, she turned to check the time and became further disgusted once she realized how many hours lay ahead of her before the alarm clock would sound.

  “Damn it, is eight hours of sleep really too much to ask for?” Zoe mumbled as she threw her legs over the side of the bed, slipped on her house shoes and padded down the hall towards the kitchen. She snatched the tea kettle off of the stove and filled it with water. While it began to heat, she retrieved the hot chocolate from the pantry. Short of prescribed medication, this was the only thing that soothed her nerves and allowed her to relax enough to drift back off to sleep.

  With so many nightmares, she had officially become a hot chocolate addict, but that was better than becoming a real addict. She’d been given prescription after prescription for everything from insomnia to depression. Neither of the diagnoses’ was a problem for her, but the doctor’s didn’t seem to comprehend what the real issue was. They were content to slap a band aid on the gaping wound that plagued Zoe nightly. Two cups of cocoa and an hour later, Zoe drifted back off to sleep.

  Ring…ring…ring… It wasn’t the alarm clock, but the incessant noise from the telephone that woke Zoe. “Crap, I’m late,” she declared as she jumped up and ran for the bathroom. Whoever was calling would have to wait.

  A quick shower, a little mascara and Zoe was out the door. The bank would open in twenty minutes and she hadn’t even distributed money to each of her tellers for their cash drawers. She called Cathy, her best teller, and asked her to get things started for her. She breezed through town and was at work in ten minutes flat. One of the few benefits of living in a small town was the lack of traffic. Unfortunately, Susan, the branch manager, was the one to open the door for her.

  “Sorry I’m running late. I’ll have everything set up in five minutes.”

  “You were promoted to Head Teller because we thought that you were responsible and could successfully handle everything that the position entails. You can’t handle it if you’re not here, Zoe.”

  “I also can’t handle it if you keep me from my work with your lecture.” Zoe rolled her eyes and strutted off as she mumbled under her breath, “I can’t wait to get away from her.” She hustled to the vault to retrieve the money for her drawer, double checked the other teller’s cash drawers to make sure that Cathy had done everything correctly, and was ready to serve customers once the doors were opened for business. Her very first customer of the day was a short, stubby man with an out of control beard.

  “Good morning, sir, how may I help you?”

  “Give me all of the money out of each teller’s drawer and do not trip the alarm or give me a dye pack. If you do, I swear I’ll come back here and blow your brains out.” He discreetly displayed a small caliber gun and passed Zoe a cloth bag for the money.

  Without fear, Zoe tripped the alarm and gave him the dye pack. She watched him walk out the door as if he’d just pulled off the most successful bank heist ever. She immediately ran to the front door and turned the lock. “I swear I’m surrounded by dumb ass people. It is definitely time for me to get out of dodge,” she declared.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Pulling up to her driveway, Zoe saw that her mom and sister were already waiting on her front porch. She figured they’d seen the news report about the bank robbery and while she was not really in the mood to talk about it, she loved the fact that she could always depend on the two of them for emotional support. Zoe killed the car’s engine, took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. But before she could get a good grasp of it, Pamela snatched the door open. Zoe could always depend on her sister to bring the drama.

  “Oh my gosh Zoe, are you okay? We saw the news and I swear I’ve been a shaking ball of nerves ever since. Come on now, step out of the car; let me see you so I know for sure that you’re okay.” Pam turned Zoe from side to side as if she were inspecting her for bullet wounds. “Thank God that you weren’t hurt, at least you don’t look like you were.”

  “For the love of God, Pam, move out of her way so that the child can go in the house,” Martha instructed. She pulled Pam to the side and watched as her baby girl gathered her things from the car and made her way to the front door. Martha waddled in the door behind Zoe and Pam followed closely behind them both, locking the door and rechecking the lock to make sure that it was secure. Zoe dropped her things on the table, but before she could plop down in one of her chairs, Martha grabbed her and pulled her close. She held Zoe and rocked her from side to side as tears flowed down her face.

  “Mama, it’s okay, I’m fine. I promise. No one was hurt. I gave him the money, he left the bank, and I ran and locked the door behind him. The cops were there in no time and right before I left they informed us that they’d caught the guy.”

  “We’ve been through so much already, I hate that you now have to deal with the possibility of some desperate fool threatening your life.” Martha sobbed and continued to hold onto Zoe as if her arms could shield her from any further hurt, harm or danger. But all three of the ladies knew that Martha had never been able to protect them when they needed it most.

  “Mama, come on now, stop that crying and sit down. I’ll fix us some tea and we can focus on something a little more positive rather than that stupid robbery. Don’t you want some tea?”

  “Yes, baby, tea would be nice, but let me fix it for you. Have a seat, Pamela and I will fix the tea and a nice meal to go along with it. Won’t we Pam?�


  “Of course we will. Let me check the locks to make sure that they’re good and secure.” Zoe and Martha watched as Pam checked each door lock once, twice, and then a third time. “Okay Mama, what are we going to fix for dinner?”

  Zoe watched as her mother rummaged through the refrigerator and pantry for the makings of a good meal. Her heart sank a little bit as she took notice of the additional weight her mother had gained. At two hundred twenty-five pounds, Zoe didn’t know how much more weight her five foot two inch frame could handle before something went seriously wrong. She glanced at her older sister walking back and forth from the sink to the door, checking the locks over and over again. Zoe took a deep breath, shook her head and decided to head down the hall and get out of her work clothes. She was mentally drained and wanted nothing more than a good night’s sleep. But as she stepped into her bedroom, the four poster oak queen bed seemed to taunt her. It was as if she could hear it whisper, come on, dear, I’ve got a nightmare waiting for you. Disgusted, Zoe snatched off her clothes, pulled on some sweats and headed back down the hall.

  It didn’t take Martha long to throw together a meal of fried chicken, mac and cheese, green beans, and corn bread. Zoe would’ve been completely satisfied with a small tossed salad, but her mom didn’t consider that real food. Zoe sat down and watched as Pam filled three glasses with tea and her mom heaped food upon her Walmart plates.

  “Everything looks good, Mama, but I’m not all that hungry. You can take some of that food off of my plate. That way I’ll have some left over for my dinner tomorrow.”

  “Non sense young lady. You can eat all of this and still have plenty left over,” Martha grunted as she plopped down in her chair. She reached for her daughters’ hands, bowed her head, and led them in prayer. “Eat up now. I know that it’s not often that y’all eat like this. You both have gotten all healthy on me. Don’t want to eat fried foods or any of that good stuff I used to make for us, but you both can make an exception today.”

  “Of course we’ll make the exception for this, Mama, it’s all delicious,” Pam declared. Zoe agreed and both the sisters stuffed themselves for the sake of saving their mother’s feelings.

  “I have some news for you Zoe,” Martha spoke timidly, like she was afraid to speak the words that she knew would weigh heavy on the three of them. Pam had already begun to cry, not her usual theatrical tears, but real tears filled with fear.

  “What is it Mama? Did someone die?”

  “No, baby, thank God we haven’t lost anyone, but this…this is what we’ve feared for a very long time.”

  “Otis?” Zoe quizzed with a twisted mouth as if speaking her father’s name left a foul taste on her tongue.

  “Yes. I got this letter from the District Attorney’s office saying that the parole board decided to set him free. They feel that he has been rehabilitated and can now be a positive contributor to society.”

  She held the letter in her trembling hand and though she tried to appear unfazed, the truth was written all over her face and her eyes puddled with fear.

  Zoe snatched the letter and read it three times before she looked back up into the faces that were staring at her. They were waiting for her, the baby of the family, to provide the plan for how they would handle this threat to their lives.

  “I can’t believe that this animal convinced an entire board of folks that he was fit to live among the general public. That board must be comprised of fools.”

  Zoe’s mind was spinning; she knew that action would have to be taken to keep her father from finding them. After his conviction, Zoe had moved them all to Manassas, Virginia and they’d been living an easy, peaceful life ever since. They assumed he’d never get out of prison and that no one from his side of the family knew where they’d disappeared to. But low and behold, three years after relocating, her father’s sister managed to track them down. And now this. They all knew that within two weeks of his release he’d appear in their small town and shatter the sense of peace they’d been so comfortable with.

  Wringing her hands nervously, Pam timidly asked, “What are we going to do, Zoe?”

  “I don’t know!” Zoe snapped. She instantly regretted her angry, harsh tone. The tears that now flowed a little more freely down Pam’s face were a clear indication that her sister was hurt and confused. “I’m sorry, Pam. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just so upset and confused by this decision, but I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I apologize, honey.” Zoe always tried to be very careful of how she dealt with Pam. After all that Otis had put her through, Pam was fragile and often needed to be handled with kid gloves.

  “It’s okay; I know you didn’t mean it, we’re all upset and on edge. I guess I’m just anxious to know what our next move will be, how we will protect ourselves.”

  Zoe knew full well what her sister was really asking was how she would protect them. “Guys, you know I love you and you know that I’ll figure something out. Give me a little time to think through this and I’ll let you know what our game plan is, okay?”

  Confident in Zoe’s strength and resourcefulness, Martha and Pam made their exit and would patiently wait for direction from their fearless leader.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Despite all of the thoughts that were running through her head and the heaviness she held in her chest, exhaustion overtook her and Zoe fell into a deep slumber. She was having the sweetest dream where she, her mother, and sister were in their old home, laughing, and baking cookies. Martha was sharing stories from her childhood while she and Pam eased chocolate chips from the counter and popped them into their mouths. As they were all using their sticky fingers to drop dollops of cookie dough onto the metal sheet, they heard the front door slam. Instantly, all of the joy was sucked out of the room and replaced with fear. Otis stumbled into the kitchen, looked at Martha with bloodshot eyes and started in.

  “What the fuck you bitches doing?”

  “Daddy, we’re baking cookies. See, doesn’t the batter look good? Do you want to taste?” Pam asked with a smile on her face and a tremble in her voice.

  “Do I look like I want to taste some damn raw cookies?” Otis yelled as he snatched the pan of cookie dough from his oldest daughter’s hands. He threw the batter at Pam and when he’d flung the last plop of it, he began to beat her about the head with the pan. “You have got to be the dumbest bitch ever born,” he spat as he hit her over and over again. “I told your sorry ass mama to have an abortion, but no, she had your dumb ass.” Whack… “You stupid bitch.” Whack… “You sorry whore.” Whack… “I hate you!” Whack…

  Martha grabbed his arm, “Stop it, Otis, you’re drunk. Leave her alone.”

  Without hesitation, Otis turned his anger on Martha and struck her across her face with his open hand. “Bitch, did I tell you to touch me? Don’t you ever put your hands on me!” He drew his hand back and broke Martha’s nose with one punch of his now closed fist. As blood spewed from her nose, Otis yelled, “Bitch, your fat ass better stop bleeding on my damn floor.” Martha held her face and screamed in pain which only angered him more. He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head into the cabinet, “Shut the fuck up and stop bleeding.”

  Zoe cowered in the corner as she watched her father turn his attention back to Pam. “You want to give me something, girl? Come on, I know what you can give me.”

  He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her down the hall as she kicked and screamed. Martha took off running behind them, but Otis slammed the door in her face and locked it. All Martha could do was weep at the door as her daughter cried out and begged for help. Otis was stinking drunk which meant he took even longer to finish his business. Zoe cried for her sister and covered her ears to try and mute the pleas for mercy. Finally the screams stopped and the door opened. Otis stumbled out and Martha ran in to try and comfort her baby. As Otis headed out of the door, he looked at Zoe still cowering in the corner and warned, “You’re next, baby girl.”

  The blaring alarm clock j
olted Zoe from the horrific dream. She sat up and wept as she realized that the dream was actually one of the many memories that she’d unsuccessfully tried to bury. Otis was like a savage beast that had been turned loose on them. It took years for him to be caught and caged and Zoe cried uncontrollably at the thought of him being unleashed on them again. They only had two months before he would walk out of prison a free man. She had to devise a plan and implement it quickly.

  Driving in to work, Zoe decided to call her best friend, Desmond. They’d grown up together in DC and supported one another in a way that no one else had been able to. His house was her hide out when she needed to stay out of Otis’ path and her shoulder was the one he’d cried on when neighborhood kids tormented him for being gay. Early on they developed a mutual love and respect for one another, a bond that remained unbreakable. Even though Desmond decided to move to Atlanta in search of a better life and more acceptance, they still spoke daily, serving as one another’s sounding board for whatever issues might arise.

  Finally after several rings, Desmond picked up. “Girl, what you doing calling me this early? You know I don’t speak or move before 10:00am.”

  “Boy, can’t you just say hello like normal people?”

  “Not before 10:00 I can’t. Now tell your man what’s going on because you never call me this early unless there’s a problem.”

  “They’re letting Otis out,” Zoe said bluntly.

  “Zoe, that’s not funny and it’s too early to be playing.”

  “I’m not playing, Desi, they’re really going to let him out.”

  “I can’t believe it; after all he did to you and your family they’re really going to set him free.” Desmond sat up in bed, now fully awake and thinking of the horror that this could mean for his beloved Zoe. “Did they give you guys a chance to speak out against him at the parole hearing?”

 

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