“You have lost your damn mind,” Ina said, crying even more. “This has been hard for all of us, and I won’t allow you to come in here and do this, Teresa. You have to leave. Now!”
I was so taken aback by her disrespect. She should have known better. It was my money that had purchased this house, my money that helped her pay bills, my money that provided everything for Joshua. She had some damn nerve. I snatched that bitch up by her arm, then pushed her against the door.
“How dare you get snippy with me after all I’ve done for you? I don’t know what you’ve done with my grandson, but you’d better find him quick!”
Just then, Ina’s boyfriend came down the hallway, displaying a tight face. He pulled Ina away from me and held her in his arms.
“She told you to leave, so get out. I don’t care what you’ve done for her. You will not speak to her this way and treat her as you wish. Joshua is dead. He is gone, and Ina is not responsible for what happened to him.”
I put my hand on my hip, looked at this pathetic fool, who didn’t even have good credit. “If she’s not responsible, then maybe you are. Things are finally starting to click, and now I get it. When were the two of you going to call for ransom money? Whatever the amount is, just tell me. Let’s stop with the games, and tell me how much money I need to give you two idiots to see my grandson again.”
Ina released herself from her boyfriend’s arms. “I’m going to go call the police. I . . . I can’t listen to this anymore. She has lost her damn mind!”
“Yes, baby, please go call them,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt this woman, but unless you get out of here, I most certainly will.”
“Go ahead, you stupid bitch. Call the police,” I snarled. “Let them see whose name is on this house, ’cause when they discover who that is, I’m going to have the pleasure of throwing both of y’all out of here.”
Ina halted her steps. She knew who had the upper hand. It damn sure wasn’t her.
“Teresa, look. These past several days have been the worst days of my life. You, of all people, know how much I loved my son. I don’t know why you’ve come here to hurt me like this. Your behavior makes no sense to me at all,” she said.
“And what I’ve heard doesn’t make sense to me, either. Joshua didn’t know anything about building bombs. He hadn’t become radicalized. He was too damn smart for that, and he would never follow a bunch of damn fools aiming to kill people. I’m so disappointed in you and Stephen, especially you, because you’ve lived with Joshua all his life. You know what kind of kid he is, and for you to accept this is just . . . just unbelievable to me.”
“I have to accept it, because it’s true. I failed him, Teresa. I wasn’t paying attention like I was supposed to be doing. He got with the wrong people, and they brainwashed him. The last time you were here, you saw how Joshua was. He was different, and the reason why he was always on his computer was that he had connected with a terror organization.”
I just shook my head as I listened to this foolishness. “When you take me to his grave, dig it up, and show me his body, I’ll believe you. You’re the one who is brainwashed, and I am so disgusted with all of you. And if by chance there is any truth to what you said, you are the one I blame for this. You’ve been a terrible mother. I should have gotten custody of Joshua from the day he was born.”
This time, Ina came after me. As she swung wildly to hit me, her boyfriend held her waist to pull her away from me.
“I’ve had enough of you!” she yelled. She couldn’t reach me, so she tried to spit on me and missed. “Go! Now! You can have this damn house! I don’t even want to be here anymore! Just go and never bring your evil self back here again!”
Ina’s boyfriend backed her up into the kitchen and advised her to stay in there. “Have a seat and don’t move. Let me handle this, okay?” He turned to me and sighed. “We will be out of here by tomorrow. Just leave us in peace. Where Joshua was laid to rest is in his obituary. Go see him for yourself. This is no joke. All of us are heartbroken.”
“I don’t want to see his grave site. I want to see his body,” I insisted.
“Unfortunately, Ina will not be digging it up. And no other person has the right to do it, not even your son. Allow Joshua to rest in peace. Please.”
“Peace, my ass,” I muttered. “You all have not heard the last of this, and in regards to this house, feel free to stay here for as long as you want. I wouldn’t let my dead dog stay in here, and if you really want to help Ina, help her clean up in here, get a job, and pay some damn bills around here.”
Without saying another word, I walked out. Got in my car and drove to the Hilton, where I spent the night. I couldn’t get Joshua off my mind. And while I wanted so badly to believe that he was alive, I also couldn’t help but to wonder if, indeed, he wasn’t. I was crushed. And, finally, I dropped to my knees, crying hysterically. I had to admit that Ina wasn’t the only one who was responsible for this. So was I.
First Lady,
Raynetta Jefferson
While Stephen was away, I kept myself busy with everything from doing interviews on talk shows to feeding the homeless. I did my best to stay calm and not worry so much about Stephen’s long trip overseas. I often watched him on TV, and while he was at the Millennials Summit, he seemed happy as ever. He smiled a lot. I guessed that being away from the White House had done him some good. Even while he was with the troops, Stephen looked alive. His words were comforting, and I was extremely proud of my husband.
I regretted that he had been under so much pressure while at home, and there was no doubt that I had contributed to a lot of unnecessary mess. Especially with his mother. I didn’t have to go see her, but I did. I couldn’t resist seeing the look in her eyes, and knowing that she would be there for a while made me feel better. I intended to utilize my time without her around wisely. I couldn’t wait for Stephen to return, and, by then, hopefully, we’d be able to move on.
Claire and I had just returned from a walkathon for women fighting lupus. My body was sweaty, so I headed to my bedroom to shower and change. I had made a decision to return Mr. McNeil’s money, so before Claire and I parted ways, I asked if she would take me to go see him right after I ate lunch. There was no way that Alex, my personal Secret Service agent, would take me there. And for now, I didn’t want Stephen to know about my visit. If I told him beforehand, he would try to talk me out of it, especially since he considered Mr. McNeil a dangerous man. To me, he wasn’t dangerous. He was just a rich, slimy bastard who thought he owned the world. I was sure he would be happy to get his money back, and after I returned it, my hands would be clean. There would be no more ties; Stephen couldn’t be mad about that.
Right after my shower, I went to the dining room to eat lunch. I had tuna salad, a fruit cup, and some apple juice. Claire was supposed to meet me at my office after lunch, but as soon as I headed there, I saw Alex behind me.
“Do you need to go somewhere else today?” he asked.
“I do, but you know what? Claire is going to take me, if you don’t mind. We’ll be gone for only about an hour, and it has been a long time since I’ve had an opportunity to just go somewhere and chill with a good friend.”
“Per the president’s order, I am required to take you anywhere you want to go. I don’t mind, and I insist.”
“Well, I’ll call my husband and have him call you. I need some space. A few hours isn’t going to hurt, and there are times when I demand my privacy.”
“I understand that, but I’m just following orders.”
It was a doggone shame that I was going to have to sneak out of here. I hadn’t even spoken to Stephen, and even if I called, he would dissuade me from going anywhere without the Secret Service in tow. I entered my office. Claire was already sitting at her desk, waiting for me.
“The briefcase is now in the trunk of my car, and I’m ready to go whenever you are. One question before we go. Did you know that Michelle Peoples was at the Millennials Summit?”
/> Like always, I shrugged, as if I didn’t care. “Nope, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing, I guess. I just wondered if you knew, that’s all.”
“I didn’t know, but now I do.” I quickly changed the subject, even though I felt some kind of way about Michelle being there. “Are you ready to go?”
“I sure am. I’m exhausted from that walk. I hope we’ll be able to stop somewhere and get some frozen yogurt.”
“Sounds good to me, but we kind of have to sneak out of here. Mr. You Know Who is watching me, so we have to get out of here without him seeing us.”
“That’s easy. There are plenty of ways to get in and out of the White House without being seen. Just follow me after he moves away from the door.”
Almost fifteen minutes later, Alex walked off. Claire and I bolted out the door, and as we cut down a few hallways and made our way to the lower level, we were seen by only a few people, who didn’t pay us much attention. When we got to Claire’s car, she advised me to get in the trunk and stay there until we passed the security gate.
“Heck no,” I said. “What if I just crouch down on the backseat? Don’t you have something . . . anything you can throw over me?”
Claire snapped her fingers. “As a matter of fact, I do. Go ahead and get in. I think I may have a parachute that we used for those disabled kids at that circus the other day.”
I got in the car, and after Claire covered me with the parachute, we were well on our way. She used her keycard and fingerprint to open the gate and spoke to the guard.
“Have a wonderful day, sir. See you when I get back,” she said.
“You too. Drive safely.”
She drove off, but I didn’t remove myself from the backseat until we were many miles away from the White House.
“That was very uncomfortable,” I said, sitting on the front passenger’s seat now. “You need to get a new car, because it is very tight back there.”
“This car is perfectly fine for little ole me. Now, tell me where to go so I can put the address into my navigation system.”
“We’re going to Forest Hills North, where the extremely rich live. And no need for navigation, because I know exactly where the house is.”
Claire sped off.
On the drive to see Mr. McNeil, I was slightly nervous. I didn’t know how he would respond to me returning his money, but this was a start to making things right between me and Stephen. Besides, who wouldn’t be happy to get two million dollars back? I felt as if it was a move in the right direction, but time would surely tell.
When we arrived at Mr. McNeil’s mansion, Claire parked in the long, curvy driveway. The house was lit up like it was Christmas, and the manicured lawn with blooming, colorful flowers looked beautiful. I turned to Claire, told her to wait outside for me.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” she said.
“No. I shouldn’t be long, but if I’m not back in fifteen or so minutes, call the cops.”
We both laughed, but I was serious. I got out of the car, removed the briefcase from the trunk, and then made my way to the castle-like house, which had a double glass door that offered a view of the inside. The white marble flooring and arched staircase were breathtaking, as was the immaculate chandelier that hung above the foyer. I rang the doorbell, and a few minutes later, a woman who looked to be a maid appeared at the door. She opened it with a smile on her face.
“How may I help you?” she said, looking inquisitively at me.
“I’m here to see Mr. McNeil. He’s not expecting me, but can you let him know that Raynetta Jefferson is here to see him?”
“I know very well who you are. You’re the first lady. Please come inside. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I smiled, then walked inside. The smell of money and richness hit me, and as my eyes scanned the white-and-black dining room to my left, the maid spoke again.
“I’ll tell Mr. McNeil that you’re here. I’ll be right back,” she said.
“Thank you.”
I waited in the foyer with the briefcase in my hand. My feet were aching a little in my high heels, and I was glad that I had changed into a pair of comfortable jeans and a blouse. My nervousness had returned, especially when the maid came back and asked me to follow her.
“This way,” she said, then led me to the same place I had been before, which was Mr. McNeil’s office. She pushed on the tall wooden door and gestured with her hand for me to go inside. I stepped on the plush carpet and immediately saw Mr. McNeil sitting behind his wide wooden desk, an arrogant expression on his face. His beady eyes narrowed, then shifted to the briefcase in my hand.
“I won’t be long,” I said, moving closer to his desk. “I just wanted to bring this money back to you. It hasn’t done me much good at all, and to be honest, I shouldn’t have ever taken it.”
I laid the briefcase on his desk, and without saying a word, he turned it so that it faced him. He opened it up, glanced at the money, and then closed it.
“It’s funny that I used to think you were a smart gal, but I should’ve known better, because there aren’t many smart niggers in this country, period. When I make you a widow, you’re going to need that money, so you may as well take it and march your pretty little black ass back out that door and enjoy as much time as you can with that thug at the White House. You people are a fucking joke, and how dare you come to my house without being invited!”
“Your words don’t intimidate me one bit, Mr. McNeil, and I’m not going to stoop to your level today,” I retorted. “You have your money back, but I want you to be real careful when you talk about doing something to my husband. You don’t know what kind of man he really is, and if you keep this up, your wife will be a widow, instead of me.”
I turned to walk away, but when I made it to the door and pulled on it, it was locked. I swung around and saw a wide smile on Mr. McNeil’s face. He came from around his desk and stood in front of the door.
“I determine when you can leave, and I’m not quite finished with you yet. Before you go, I want you to tell Mr. President that his new executive orders to protect his niggers won’t fly. Tell him that any attempt to have me arrested for roughing up his mistress won’t work, and that case is on the verge of being dismissed. Let him know that he needs to enjoy the Oval Office while he can, because people in power like me will not allow him to sit his ass in that chair much longer. Also, send him my condolences. What happened to his son was tragic, but he’s just one less gang member our society has to worry about.”
Showing no fear, I moved within a foot of Mr. McNeil. “I’m not telling Stephen a damn thing, so stop being a coward and go tell him yourself. You won’t do that, because you’re afraid of my husband. His blackness scares you, and you know who really has the power. You can’t even sleep at night, thinking about him. He has you right where he wants you, and I love every bit of it.”
Mr. McNeil chuckled and then snatched me up in his arms. For an old man, he was strong. He had a tight grip around my waist, so tight that I couldn’t pull away from him.
“The only thing that may keep me up at night is my thoughts of screwing you. I wouldn’t mind sticking my dick between those soft, firm breasts of yours, and only God knows what I would do with—”
He covered my mouth with his. I quickly pulled my head back, then spit in that bastard’s face and wiped his saliva from my mouth. I then slapped him hard across his face, causing him to release me.
“Don’t make me throw up,” I yelled with a twisted face. “And don’t you ever touch me again! Either you open this door now, or I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs and tear this fancy-ass office up! Now, you pervert, I’m not playing with you!”
Mr. McNeil looked amused, even though he had a red handprint on his face. His bushy brows were raised, and the smirk on his face revealed just how evil he really was. He walked behind his desk, and when he pushed a button, I heard the door click. I cut my eyes at him, the
n turned on my heels. As I headed to the door this time, I paused when he called out to me.
“Don’t be upset with me, sweetheart. You forgot something.”
I pivoted to see what it was, and that was when I saw him pick up a blue glass globe and pitch it right at me. I didn’t have time to duck. The globe slammed into the side of my face, causing me to stagger. I became dizzy, and just as I was getting ready to fall, Mr. McNeil rushed up to grab me. My vision was blurred, and my head was hurting so badly. I could feel blood trickling down the side of my face, and as he escorted me to the front door, drops of my blood dotted the floor.
“Easy,” he said while holding me up and fondling my breasts. “You’re going to be just fine, especially when you get the hell out of here.”
Wobbling, I touched the side of my face, then looked at my bloody hand through blurred vision. I needed help fast, but the only thing I got was shoved on the front porch. Mr. McNeil slammed the door, and since I was not even sure if Claire saw me, I started to crawl my way to the car. What might have been a few minutes later, I heard her voice.
“Oh my God!” she shouted as she helped me off the ground. “What in the hell happened? Did he do this to you?” She helped me into the car and buckled me in on the passenger’s side. Claire was in a panic. “Raynetta, speak to me now! Do you need an ambulance?”
I slowly moved my head from side to side. “No,” I whispered. “Take me home. I need to get home.”
Claire opened her glove compartment and reached for a towel. She pressed it against my face, where there was obviously a deep cut.
“Please,” she said. “Let me take you to the hospital. You need stitches. It’s the only way the bleeding is going to stop.”
I added pressure with the towel, then squeezed my eyes, because the pain was becoming unbearable. But there was no way that I, the first lady, was going to a hospital right now. Everyone would make a big deal about this. I didn’t want a scene to be made, so I told Claire to get me to the White House fast. She got in the car and then continuously asked question after question.
Trouble in the White House Page 12