“I know. It’s kinda what makes our connection deeper.” I leave it at that, not wanting to share more. I opt to keep the deeper, emotional details of my relationship with Jeremy to myself. Coral seemed to understand because after staring at me, trying to read my face for evidence of lies or lack of confidence in my own words, she bows her head, and drops any further inquiry.
“Stacey’s coming out this weekend.”
I smile. “I know. She told me.” Stacey and I talk at least three times a week. Getting to know her from her own mouth instead of through Coral has been great. She still didn’t know everything about me or my past but the shame I’d felt about it for so long even after years of therapy has begun to fade. I know that has to do with Jeremy.
“She’ll be happy to see you in person again. She’s already trying to arrange a trip to the ballet out here,” Coral added, bringing me back to the discussion. Stacey is a former ballet dancer who’d suffered a career-ending injury. Things got kinda bad for her after that, but eventually she managed to get back on track, go to school, and became a social worker. Not to mention she married a very handsome and successful business mogul in Atlanta.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
****
Coral and I spend the next hour eating breakfast and talking before I headed back to the guesthouse. Coral revealed to me that she wasn’t going back to work for at least another three months, wanting to spend as much quality time with both kids.
“They’re just so young and I’ve spent so much time moving from one place to another; not really being settled anywhere for long. I want to give them the stability we never had as kids. Plus Li finally convinced me to sign the adoption papers for Princess.” She shrugs in an uncommonly bashful moment. “After having LJ, I couldn’t imagine not knowing what or who would be there to take care of him if something happened to Li and me. I felt the exact same way about Princess. If something were to happen to Li, I’d have no legal rights to her. So after discussing it with her maternal grandparents, we all agreed that me adopting her was the best thing,” she told me after I’d asked what made her finally make a decision.
I smiled, remembering that earlier conversation, as I sat down at the desk in my bedroom, preparing to go another round with these edits. Looking at the clock, I see it’s only a little after noon. I’d spent the last hour or so cleaning up as the place had gotten a little sloppy since the only time I’d come here was to drop off old clothes and pick up new clothing over the last few weeks. But even that became few and far in between as I’d wake up some days and Jeremy would have bags and boxes of clothes delivered to me so I wouldn’t have to drive across town to get more stuff. It was almost as if he didn’t want me to leave. I’d just received a text from him not too long ago reminding me his flight lands in less than an hour. He’d moved up his flight time, he said to be back and well rested for a meeting he had Monday morning. Deep down, I knew it was because it was as difficult for him to be away as it was for me to have him away.
Smiling at that, I sit to read over the edits and changes my editor has suggested, making adjustments here and there when necessary in my manuscript. I’d gotten so into it, hoping I could finish these edits this weekend, I didn’t hear my phone vibrating across the room until the call finally ended. Figuring it was my agent who’d called earlier in the day, wanting an update on the edits, I decided I’d give her a call when I finished. However, only a few minutes later I hear my phone vibrating again. My agent can be an impatient ass, but she rarely calls back to back on weekends. Feeling curious, I venture over to my bed and pick up the phone to see a number I don’t recognize. Figuring it’s either the wrong number or some type of promotional call, I nearly decide to not answer. But something tells me to pick it up. When I do, I hear heavy breathing on the other end.
“Hello?” I answer, my voice mixed with curiosity and a tinge of impatience.
“M-Ms. Tasha,” a weak voice, just above a whisper comes through the line.
I barely recognize it. But something tells me…
“Ms. Tasha, it’s Trudy,” she whispers.
My stomach drops and my entire body stiffens as I brace myself. I can hear fear in her voice and I picture her lips shivering as she tries to push the words out her mouth.
“Trudy what’s wrong?” Because I know something’s wrong. I can feel it.
“H-he brought...I’m scared.”
Those words finally kick me into gear, as I start looking for my discarded tennis shoes around my bed. Finding them, I push my feet inside them, throw on a long sleeve T-shirt over the camisole I had on and head to the kitchen for my car keys.
“Where are you?” I do my best to remain calm, not wanting to frighten her any more than she already is.
“Home.”
“Can you tell me what’s happened?” I ask, shutting the door behind me and making my way to my car parked in the driveway. It’s just me here as Liam and Coral have taken the kids to a local museum and then out to eat. I pause, wondering if I should leave a note, but I don’t want to stop. Right now my sole objective is to make sure Trudy is okay.
“Th-they tried to touch me.”
My stomach plummets as I hear Trudy try desperately to hold onto the sob that wants to burst from her lips. Now, I know there’s no time for me to stop and write a note. I decide to text Coral to let her know what’s happening once I’m in the car. I wonder if I should call the police, but I remember Trudy’s neighborhood isn’t too fond of police intervention. Hell, I grew up in a similar neighborhood. And truth be told, I still have a distrust of cops after seeing more than a few involved in the shady sex trafficking ring I was a victim of as an adolescent.
“Trudy, where are you in the house?” Finally in the car I have to move my phone from my ear and hear her low voice come through the speakers.
“The closet in the back bedroom.”
“Okay. Listen to me very carefully. Do not come out of that closet for anyone besides me. I’m on my way over there. I’ll find you. Do not open the door, do not make any noise. I want you to keep the phone close to you. I’m not going to hang up so you can hear me the whole time. Okay?”
“Okay, Ms. Tash—”
And just like that, the line goes dead. Oh God! I do my absolute best not to panic and give into the worst fears running through my head. I hope the phone Trudy was calling from just went dead instead of whoever she was afraid of finding her. I have a feeling this has something to do with her mother’s boyfriend. Looking down at the GPS on my phone, I see I’m only about ten minutes away from Trudy’s house. I pray that she’s okay when I get there. I try to push the sick feeling that threatens to cripple me by just imagining all the sick things that bastard could be doing to Trudy. Truth is, I didn’t have to imagine. I knew first hand just what sick pedophiles like him do to girls who barely look old enough to wear a training bra. My fists tighten around the steering wheel to the point of pain. An anger I’d never felt before bubbles up in my core just as I pulled up in front of Trudy’s home. I don’t see any cars out front, making the place look empty. At the last second, before getting out of my car, I decide to send a quick text to Jeremy instead of Coral.
I cut my car off, climb out, and carefully looking for signs of life inside the house. Curtains cover most of the windows, making viewing inside the house difficult. But I do spot a shadow behind the curtain. Looking from one side of the house to the other, I look over toward the house on the right and notice it’s abandoned. On the left, the house looks as if someone lives there, but it’s unoccupied at the moment. Finally, I reach the top of the rickety steps and then knock loudly on the door. A few seconds later, I hear someone shuffling toward the front door.
“Aye, Brandon, man I told…” He pauses when sees me standing at the opened door. He’s dressed in what I’ve come to think is his usual white T-shirt, sagging, faded jeans, and a pair of old Jordans. The scowl on his face is aimed directly at me. His present frown deepens, surely not expecti
ng to see me.
Despite my actual feelings, I manage to plaster a smile on my face while tightening my grip on my keys in my hand. “Hi! Remember me? I work at the community center that Trudy attends. There was an assignment one of her instructors there wanted to give her, so I decided to bring it over today. Can I see her?”
“Nah, she ain’t here.” He snorts, moving to shut the door in my face. His face tightens when his movement is halted by my foot in the door frame.
“Are you sure? I spoke with her earlier and told her I was coming over.” My voice is dripping with fake niceness.
His eyes slant, assessing the truth of my words. He scans me from head to toe. I see his eyes shift the moment he makes some decision. Without rhyme or reason, he steps back, widening the door a bit. “A’ight.” He nods.
I step just inside the door, but instead of moving further inside, I take a step to the right, moving further away from him, but keeping him in my peripheral. I look around the living room to see it’s empty save for an old couch, loveseat, small wooden table, and a chair off to the side. I can also see it’s a mess. There are old newspapers and clothing strewn about and a lamp on the side table has been knocked over. All signs of some type of struggle. My heartbeat quickens as worry seeps through me for Trudy.
“Where’s Trudy?” I turn to look directly at him.
“I’on’t know.” He shrugs. “Maybe you can tell me.” Something in his tone causes goose bumps to rise on my skin. “How about you sit and wait for her for a minute?” The eeriness of his invite makes me want to head straight for the door and never look back. But I won’t leave here without Trudy. I don’t know all the details yet, but I know something bad is happening here.
“Sure, can-uh, can you direct me to the bathroom first? I forgot to go before I left the community center.” I smile, playing innocent.
“Y-yeah. It’s down the hall to the left.” He points and I hear the click of the lock of the front door. My stomach jumps. Everything in my body tells me it’s well past time to go. But Trudy… I take a tentative step in the direction he pointed and then another until I make it to the hallway. I turn left to walk down. I don’t hear footsteps behind me so I know he isn’t following me for now. I turn and peer over my shoulder just to be sure and see him making his way to the couch in the living room. I relax slightly, as I look to each side of me. I spot the bathroom on the left as he said and see another door across the hall. Thinking that must be the bedroom Trudy was referring, to my fingers itch to try the knob when I hear a creak behind me. Turning I see he’s standing at the other end of the hallway now watching me.
“You find it?”
“Y-yup. To the left at the end of the hallway just as you said.” I try to give a half-smile but sure it comes out as a grimace. I enter the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Leaning over the rusty sink, I try to control my breathing and pulse. I remove my phone from my bag to see a text from Jeremy.
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU???
I can feel his anxiousness through the phone.
Trudy’s house.
That’s all I type before I put the phone back in my bag. I look around the bathroom for any signs of a struggle even though Trudy said she was in a bedroom. I make sure to pull back the shower curtain, checking the bathtub and then the closet to make sure she isn’t hiding in here. Flushing the toilet and then turning on the sink to try and throw off any suspicion, I close my eyes and gather my courage for what I’m going to have to do. This house is too tiny to go looking around without arousing suspicion. Gripping my keys tightly in my left hand, I turn the nozzle on the head of my small bottle of mace that’s attached to the keychain, unlocking it. I shut the water off and turn to the doorknob. I take in another deep breath of resolve. Opening the door, I almost jump out of my skin as he’s standing right there, a lecherous look in his eyes. Without hesitation I lift my left hand up, pressing the button to release a stream of mace directly in his face.
“Aggghhh shit!” he yells, covering his face with both hands. He stumbles and falls into the hallway, making room for me to run out. I don’t attempt to spray him again. My sole focus in this moment is to get to the door across the hall. I leap out the bathroom door, landing right in front of the other door, twisting the knob and sighing in relief when it immediately opens. Shutting the door behind me, I look erratically around me, hoping to find a closet somewhere in here. I spot the closet door just inches from the bedroom door along the same wall.
“Trudy!” I yell. “Trudy! It’s Ms. Tasha. Are you in here?” I yell, knocking on the door. I jump back when the opposite door slides mere inches from my fingers, almost pinching them.
“I’m here,” she whispers, eyes wide with relief and fear.
“Sweetie,” I go to her, kneeling in front of her, cupping her cheeks in my hands. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”
By the way Trudy’s eyes begin to water, I already know the answer to that question. I swallow back my own tears, needing to remain composed for the both of us.
“Where’s your mother?”
Trudy shrugs. “I don’t know. She ain’t been home in a few days.”
Déjà vu, I think, remembering how my own mother had abandoned me, leaving me with a sick fuck like Trudy’s mother has. “What happened today?” I ask, turning toward the door to see if I hear anyone coming. I can faintly make out grunts and stumbling around in the hallway.
“Gary’s friend came over and he s-said I had t-to be good to h-him,” she stutters. “He took me upstairs and started touching me, but I ain’t want to be touched like that by him too. So I bit his hand and ran downstairs and out the front door, hiding in the abandoned house next door. I could see out the side window, they both ran out calling my name. When I saw them get in his friend’s car, I came back to the house, grabbed my mom’s cell phone she left behind and hid in the closet and called you. The phone died, but I stayed hidden like you said. I heard the front door open just a few minutes before you came.” She was panting by the end of her story. I pulled her to me to calm her down. Her little body was shaking with fear and the memory of what these bastards had tried to do to her.
“You’re so brave. You know that? You did the right thing.” I try to comfort her, looking around the room for a window to try and climb out of. I curse in my head when I see there aren’t any. We’re going to have to go out the door I came through. I’m sure that mace is still working on Gary, but just in case, I grip the handle in my hand tighter and push Trudy behind me.
“Stay behind me. If I tell you to run, then you run no matter what. Understand?” I say as sternly as possible, wanting Trudy to know under no uncertain terms is she to remain with me if I tell her to run.
She nods, but her facial expression remains unsure, her big brown eyes imploring me to help her out of this situation.
“Come on,” I urge, inching toward the door. Before opening it, I lean the side of my head on the door to see if I can hear any movement outside. When I don’t, I say a quick prayer and slowly pull the door open. When I look down the hallway I see it’s empty. I grip Trudy to me with so much force I fear I may leave scratches, but making sure she gets out of this alive is more important at the moment. I turn and motion with my hand in front of my lips for her to be as quiet as possible. She clings closer to me and we make our way into the hallway. Halfway down, I hear pounding on the door and pause. A set of footsteps comes down the steps and seconds later I hear the door creak open. I’m surprised I can hear anything over my erratic heartbeat.
“You find that lil’ bitch yet?” an unfamiliar, gritty male voice sounds off.
Though I don’t recognize it, Trudy clearly does the way her fingers dig into the skin on my arm. Her body begins to shake even harder.
“That’s him,” she whispers when I look down at her.
I gasp in alarm and I gesture again for her to remain quiet.
“What the fuck happened to you?” a second man snarls.
“That bitch sprayed me
with mace!” Gary yells.
“The lil’ bitch? She’s here?”
“No, her fucking teacher or some shit. But Trudy’s here. I know her little ass is. I’ma light that other bitch up on sight too!”
I hear the unmistakable click-clack of a gun being cocked. My knees wobble, but I remain erect, needing to be strong for Trudy. Quickly, I say another prayer and slowly retreat backwards at the same time the door slams shut. Moving quickly, I turn and push Trudy toward the bathroom. There was a little window I saw when I was in there. I probably won’t be able to fit through it, but Trudy should be able to.
“Aye! There them bitches is!” Gary yells.
“Shit!” I yell at the same time we make it to the bathroom. I slam the door shut, locking it. I know my mace is no match from the nine millimeter in his hand. I see an old wooden dresser next to the sink and move to slide it in front of the door.
“Trudy, I’m going to help lift you and push you out the window, okay?”
The pounding on the door startles both of us. I turn my back to the door to open the window, but it’s stuck. “Dammit!”
“We can’t fit Ms. Tasha!” she yells, her eyes shifting between me, the door, and the window.
“Trudy! Oh God!” I yell when I hear the first shot at the door. He’s trying to shoot the knob off. That door and dresser are not going to hold against the powerful weapon. Sure enough, within seconds, the knob is dangling off the door and they are pushing their way through. The dresser can only hold them off so much longer.
“Trudy, you have to move now!” I shriek, struggling with the window, but it’s too late. Not even a full three minutes, Gary and his accomplice are able to push the door open, causing the dresser to tip over. I turn, pushing Trudy behind me to stare into the face of two very angry men.
“G-Gary, listen. Just let me take Trudy out of here. I won’t call the police or tell anyone,” I try to reason. Our situation is looking bleak and I doubt either one of us are going to make it out of this house or even this room alive. The looks in these men's eyes tell me they don’t give one iota of a fuck about Trudy’s safety or mine.
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