Just Say The Word

by Tiffany Patterson

  “That’s too good for his bitch ass,” Sean growled behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder at my cousin before returning my attention to Randy.

  A smile crossed my face. “He’s right. That is too good for you. But I’m feeling generous right now.” I also knew something Sean didn’t, but I wasn’t about to say it right then. I wanted Randy to think I’d let him live out the rest of his days in peace.

  “I-I don’t know all of their names,” Randy stated weakly. “I can’t do what you want me to.”

  “We’ll start with the ones you do know and work your way back. I have no doubt it’ll come to you. I’ll even send you some help to jog your memory. Isn’t that right, Brutus?”

  “Sure is,” his deep voice answered from behind me.

  “My friend Brutus, here, has been kind enough to offer up one of his employees to assist you in remembering every woman you’ve ever hurt and getting a portion of your inheritance to them.”

  I stood up, taking a step back.

  “Well get the hell up!” I barked. “Your bitch ass doesn’t have time to be sitting around. You’ve got shit to do. Unless you want to go over the roof.”

  “No! No!” Randy yelped, stumbling to rise to his feet.

  I watched as he wobbled, unsteadily before Brutus grabbed him by the arm and walked him toward the door leading to the staircase to exit.

  I waited a few heartbeats, glancing at both Joshua and Sean, who’d remained mostly silent, before starting in the same direction.

  “I can’t believe you’re letting him walk away,” Sean tutted.

  I snorted. “Who the hell do you think I am? He won’t be alive a year from now.” I had already planned out his “suicide” with a letter explaining in detail how he’d assaulted numerous women over the years. I’d just opted to let Randy believe I’d leave him to live in peace once he’d done what I’d ordered.

  “That’s more like it,” Sean replied.

  “I think we’re rubbing off you on,” Josh stated, clapping me on the back.

  I chuckled. “Shit. You must be,” I replied, looking over at his grinning face. Everybody knew those Townsends were crazy as hell.

  Silently, we exited the fifteen story building. Without thinking, I turned toward the right, moving closer to the alleyway that was created by the building my company now owned and the neighboring building. I’d spoken to the new owner of the building, who was converting it to boutique stores. It was dark out due to the time of night and I could barely make out the dumpster that still sat about halfway down the alleyway.

  I glanced over my shoulder, hearing the footprints of Sean and Joshua behind me. I turned back.

  “This is where my father was killed,” I stated. I hadn’t shared every detail with either men before. I nodded in the direction of the dumpster. “That was where I hid when it happened.”

  I opted not to say anything else. No more words were needed. Instead, I looked up at the building I now owned.

  Sean moved in, clapping me on the shoulder. “You know you’re crazy as shit, right? Almost throwing a man off a building into the alley where your pops was murdered. That’s some crazy shit. You wannabe Suge Knight ass.”

  I chuckled.

  “I’ve watched crazier things done in the name of protecting the woman you love,” Joshua added.

  “You would’ve,” I grunted.

  “Hey, your pops taught you the same thing mine taught me. Protecting the women in your life is the only thing that matters.”

  I nodded.

  “What about the other two?” Sean questioned.

  I didn’t have to ask to know he was referring to Jack and Leon, the two players who also assaulted Sandra that night.

  “You haven’t heard?” I asked, raising an eyebrow toward Sean.

  He shook his head.

  “Former Williamsport High School star football player, Jack Murphy, died of an overdose,” I stated as if reading a newspaper headline.

  “While Leon Walker, formerly of Williamsport, is survived by his wife after a sudden heart attack,” Josh added.

  Sean glimpsed between the both of us and began shaking his head. “Crazy as hell.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever. I’m done with this. I need to go see my woman.”

  I gave one last look down that alleyway before turning my back and making my way to my car.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sandra

  “Are you sure you want to go alone?” Kayla asked into the phone as I got out of my car and glanced across the parking lot to the three story brick building. From the outside the building looked like most others lining the street. Next to it was a church, and on the other side sat a building that housed a laundromat and a convenience store. A typical street in Williamsport, but the particular building I was going into housed a handful of businesses and organizations. Only one of them, however, was printed on the card that I held in my free hand. The same card Kayla had given me a couple of months prior, right before I ran out of her office because I was too much of a coward to confront my past.

  “It’s fine.”

  “I could meet you—”

  “Kayla, you just had a baby three weeks ago. There is no way I’d ask you to come with me when you have a little girl at home who needs you.”

  Kayla sighed into the phone. She’d given birth twenty days ago to a beautiful baby girl she and Joshua named Victoria Chelsea Townsend. I went and visited her in the hospital the day after she was born, and then again a couple of days later, Monique and I taking a few meals over so she wouldn’t have to worry about cooking for a while. Though, between Joshua’s three brothers and their wives, his parents and Kayla’s parents, they had enough food to last at least six months.

  “But it wouldn’t be any trouble to go—”

  “No, I need to do this alone,” I finally said, glancing up at the building again, noticing a couple of women walking in. Butterflies fluttered in my belly.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  A small smile touched my lips. “Thanks.”

  “But I still wish someone was there with you. What about Damon? I think you should’ve told him.”

  I frowned. I’d told Kayla the entire story of what happened the night of the fundraiser, about three and a half weeks prior. Damon and I had talked often since that night. He called every night just as I was putting Monique to bed so we could read her a story together. But we’d rarely seen each other. He’d traveled to a couple of different places for work which was why I hadn’t seen him. At least, that’s what he’d told me.

  “I’ll tell him eventually.” I wanted to wait until I saw him face-to-face and not through the phone. “I have to go. I’ll call you afterwards.”

  “Okay. If you need to, you can come over after. I know those meetings can be emotionally draining sometimes. Or if you need me to take Monique for a little while so you can have some alone time, that’s okay, too.”

  I smiled into the phone. I loved Kayla. I’d obviously hit the jackpot when I decided to open up to her.

  “Thank you,” was all I said before hanging up the phone. I wouldn’t take her up on the offer. If it became too much, I’d just ask my grandmother to take Monique for a couple of hours once I got out of this meeting. My grandmother would bend over backwards to help me out with anything she could these days. But I tried hard not to take advantage of her guilt.

  Inhaling, I took a step toward the front entrance, and then another and another, until my stride picked up and I was reaching for the door to enter. Glancing at the directory on the wall, I realized the office I wanted was on the second floor of the building. I opted to take the stairs and arrived at the glass doors that read “Helping Hands” within five minutes.

  As I opened the door a young woman with brunette hair smiled warmly. “Welcome to Helping Hands, how can I assist you?”

  I lifted my head, straightened my back, and said, “I’m here for the group meeting for sexual assault survivors.” It took a
ll of my energy to hold my confident stance and say those words but I had.

  The woman nodded empathetically. “Is this your first time?”

  “Yes. I registered on the website, Sandra Robinson.”

  She scrolled through a list of names on her computer screen. “Ah, there you are. Welcome, Sandra. The group meets in the room down the hall and to your left. There is coffee, water, tea, and some refreshments in the meeting room as well.”

  I nodded and gave her a small smile before heading off in the direction she’d told me.

  My heart thundered in my chest as I grew closer and closer to the door. I couldn’t believe I was finally doing this, but I also felt proud of myself. I should’ve confronted this a long time ago.

  “Hi.” A friendly looking older black woman waved.

  I returned her smile.

  She pushed the square-framed glasses she wore up her nose a little and tossed her long dreadlocks over her right shoulder.

  “I’m Veronica. Nice to meet you.” She moved closer to me, holding out her hand.

  I took it, shaking it. “I’m Sandra.”

  “It’s your first time here?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m the social worker who runs these groups.”

  “I saw your picture on the website,” I noted.

  Her smile widened. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

  “I’ll have some of the herbal tea. If I drink coffee this time of day, I’ll be up half the night.”

  She laughed. “Same with me. I’m incredibly sensitive to caffeine.”

  We talked for a few more minutes while more women trickled in. Soon, I made my way over to sit in one of the folding chairs that had been arranged in a circle of about twenty. I glanced around, noticing women of all ages, ethnicities, and races. That didn’t surprise me. I’d read up on statistics of victims of sexual assault. Reading the numbers both saddened me and made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Now, seeing some of the women in person, the stats were becoming more than just numbers read on the internet.

  “Let’s begin, ladies,” Veronica stated as she took her seat in one of the chairs. “We start every meeting with introductions. Just your first name and where you’re from, if you like.”

  We went around the circle and introduced ourselves to the group. Veronica began talking, explaining how the group meeting worked, I assumed for my benefit since I was the only one who’d shown up for the first time. The other twelve women, or so, had been coming for a period of a few months up to a couple of years. I listened intently as the women explained how they were better able to handle what’d happened to them as a result of coming to the group.

  “Sandra, would you like to share?”

  I blinked and looked over at Veronica. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Share whatever’s on your mind. How you’re feeling. What brought you here today. Whatever is on your heart, share it. Nothing we say leaves the walls of this room. Isn’t that right, ladies?” Veronica questioned, glancing around.

  The other women nodded emphatically in agreement.

  Taking one last look around, I parted my lips and spoke the first words that came to mind. “I have a daughter.”

  I paused, glancing around. All eyes were on me but I didn’t feel put on the spot. Each woman had shared a little about themselves, so it felt right to share myself. Also, since I’d told Damon the truth about that night a small weight had been lifted off of me. It’d freed me enough to actually show up to this group. The fear was diminishing.

  “She’s ten years old …” I glanced around before speaking again. “She’s the result of that night. Most people who know me don’t know that. Well, at least, they didn’t. I’ve told the closest people in my life recently. But it’s a secret I held onto for a decade.”

  “Why?” one of the women asked.

  I lifted my gaze to meet hers. “I couldn’t even admit to myself what’d happened to me. Then, I never wanted anyone to associate her with my assault. I didn’t want that to be all anyone ever saw when they looked at her or to feel sorry for me because they believed I had to have her even if I didn’t want to. I was raised in a very conservative home. Most people who knew me growing up would’ve likely assumed I felt obligated to keep her even though I didn’t want her.”

  “And is that true?” Veronica asked.

  I shook my head. “Not in the least. She’s my everything.”

  “What made you finally tell?”

  I looked at the young, blonde-haired woman who’d asked that. I estimated she couldn’t be much older than I was at the time of my assault.

  “He came back. The man who I thought I’d loved at one point in my life. The one who drugged and … raped me along with two of his friends.” I paused. “And because I fell in love. Real love. For the first time. And I didn’t want my past holding me back anymore. I wanted to be all in.”

  “Speaking the truth is where the healing begins,” Veronica stated, wisely.

  I inhaled but didn’t reply. I gave her a short smile, that hopefully conveyed the depths to which I understood her statement. She was right. Not saying my truth had kept me hostage for years. I had loved my daughter the best I could but had kept myself closed off from everyone else.

  “Thanks for sharing your story,” the same young, blonde woman who’d questioned me earlier stated as we all started folding up the chairs to line up against the wall to prepare to leave.

  “Thanks for listening.”

  She nodded. “The same thing happened to me. A guy I was seeing decided he wanted to share me with his friends.” Her eyes lowered to the ground. She shook her head, then peered back up at me. “I don’t know if I could’ve made the decision you made,” she remarked. “About your daughter, I mean.”

  I understood. “It honestly didn’t feel like a decision. I tried to go through with the abortion and something in me just knew I couldn’t do it.”

  She looked at me and nodded, ingesting my words. “What was the reaction of the guy you’re seeing since you told him?”

  I raised my eyebrows and glanced out the door. “Well, I could tell he was pissed.”

  “At you?”

  I shook my head vehemently. I never got the impression Damon was pissed at me. Randy, yes. “No, at my ex, at the situation, but not at me. But … he’s been a little distant.” My chest ached admitting that out loud. I hated to think that speaking the truth would cause Damon to somehow think less of me or feel sorry for me, or whatever. I’d spent many nights wondering what he was thinking.

  “He probably just needs some time,” she reassured. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Catherine, by the way.”

  “I remembered from when you introduced yourself. I’m Sandra.”

  “Maybe I’ll see you here again?”

  “I think you will.” I’d already made the decision to come back to the group again the week after next, when it was held. There was comfort in going someplace where I could talk about what had become the elephant in the room of the past decade of my life.

  Catherine and I talked a little more as we passed through the doors of Helping Hands. She told me she was in her sophomore year at Williamsport University. Her assault had happened early on in her freshman year. In the few minutes we talked, I began to admire her bravery.

  As we exited the building, I looked up to where my car was parked and my heartbeat increased. Leaned against my driver’s side door was the man I’d wanted to hold onto for weeks.

  “Is that him?” Catherine asked from next to me.

  I smiled as I stared straight ahead at Damon whose eyes were glued to me.

  “That’s him.”

  “He’s cute.”

  I smirked but never took my eyes off Damon. “He’s mine too.”

  Catherine giggled right before leaving and walking toward her own car. I allowed my feet to carry me closer to my man. He wasn’t smiling, but the look in his eyes was like a magnet, pulling me closer.

  “Hi,�
� I greeted as I approached.

  He glanced over my head at the building I’d just exited before looking down at me.

  “Kayla told me you’d be here.”

  “I figured.” I had concluded as much on my own as soon as I saw him standing here.

  “You should’ve told me. I would’ve brought you.”

  I looked back at the building and saw a few women from the group exiting. They waved. I waved back before turning to Damon. “I needed to do this on my own.”

  Frowning, he began shaking his head. He moved closer, cupping my face with his large hands. “You don’t do anything alone. Not anymore. Not when you have me.” His tone was so hard and sure, if he hadn’t been holding me, I was certain I would’ve swayed a little bit from swooning.

  I wrapped my hands around his wrists as his hands still cupped my face. “Are you sure about that?”

  He lowered his forehead to mine. “As a fucking heart attack. I had to work out a few things, but you were always right here.” He tapped his chest with his fist. “Both you and Monique.”

  I swallowed and briefly closed my eyes.

  “You two are my world.”

  My eyes popped open. “It took you the last couple of weeks to come to that conclusion?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. It took me the last couple of weeks to make sure anyone who tried to fuck with my world knew better.”

  I inhaled sharply, taken aback by the hardness of his tone. Then I remembered something.

  “Randy abruptly quit Whittaker & Whittaker. We have a new lawyer for the case he was working. He moved from Williamsport.” I paused. “Did you have anything to do with that?”