Damsels in Distress

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  As she was tucking the corner of the fitted sheet on her side of the bed, Tamara saw something sparkle. She pulled the edge of the mattress up and saw the diamond stud. When she picked it up to examine it, it slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. Tamara stooped to retrieve it and saw something else that caused her already-weak heart to skip a beat. She picked up the earring and the condom and studied them. It was not her earring and she and Richard didn’t use condoms. Before the thought of her husband being unfaithful could manifest in her brain, Tamara picked up the note and read the words:

  Is your husband married?

  Tamara felt as though she were in the Twilight Zone. Suddenly her heart started to race and she gasped for air. Tamara fell forward on her knees. She released the condom, earring, and note before collapsing onto the floor.

  * * *

  An hour later Richard arrived home excited to see his wife. Knowing Tamara would arrive home from Lake Geneva early that afternoon, Richard had cut his workday short.

  “Tam, baby, I’m home,” he announced when he entered the foyer.

  She didn’t answer and Richard went to search for her in the kitchen. When he didn’t find Tamara there he went toward their bedroom. “Tam. Where you at?”

  Richard saw Tamara lying on her stomach next to the bed. He rushed to her. “Baby. Baby, you okay?”

  Next to Tamara’s head Richard saw the note, condom, and earring. He couldn’t comprehend why the earring and condom were there but when he read the words on the note, he put two and two together. What the heck? Richard broke out into a sweat.

  Tamara stirred and began to moan. Richard turned her over and laid her on her back. “Tam, baby, can you hear me?”

  “Who is she?” Tamara’s words were just above a whisper.

  Richard knew that wasn’t the time to talk about his mistress that had set him up. He needed to call an ambulance.

  * * *

  Richard sat at Tamara’s side at Rush-Presbyterian-St. Luke’s Medical Center. He looked at the IV dripping into her arm and the three patches pasted on the center of her chest.

  Her cardiologist stood by her bed. “It was a mild heart attack, extremely mild. I told you four months ago to avoid anything strenuous or anything that would get your heart rate up. You’re lucky, Tamara. This could have been a full-blown heart attack. You’ve got to learn to take it easy.”

  Tamara didn’t respond to the doctor. She looked at Richard.

  “And your blood pressure is way too high,” the doctor stated. “But I can prescribe something to help with that.” The doctor wrote something on his chart. “I’ll send the nurse in with your medication and I’ll be back to check your vitals later.”

  “How long?” Tamara asked Richard when they were alone.

  Richard saw tears running from the corners of her eyes down to her ears. His own heart ached. He was the reason Tamara was in the hospital. “A little over a year.”

  Tamara turned her face toward the window. He reached for her hand and held it tight. “Tam, baby, I am so sorry.”

  Tamara kept her hand in Richards hand and continued looking out of the window. “Why wasn’t I enough for you?”

  “You are enough. She means nothing to me, I don’t love her.”

  “Of all the places, Richard, why my bed? My sheets? My house? Did you do with her all the things you do with me?”

  “Tam, please don’t do this. I don’t wanna talk about that.”

  “I know how you perform, Richard. I know what you like to do. It makes me sick to my stomach to know that you shared yourself with another woman. What is it about her, Richard? You’re always telling me how beautiful I am. Is she prettier than me? Do you see her face when you make love to me?”

  Richard caressed Tamara’s hand. “No, baby. It’s nothing like that.”

  Tamara looked at him and saw filth and disgust. “I’ve always known you to be a man with morals, Richard. What I don’t understand is how you can fall for a woman who has no shame in sleeping with another woman’s husband. Furthermore, in his wife’s bed. But you know what, Richard? Whomever the whore is, I can’t fault her. She doesn’t owe me a darn thing. You are the one who made vows to me. It’s you who is in covenant with me, not her.”

  Richard hung his head in shame. “Tam, I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

  Tamara’s voice rose along with her blood pressure. “You keep saying that but what does it mean? What are you sorry about, Richard? For getting involved with that whore or for getting caught? You said you’ve been screwing this chick for a year and you ain’t been sorry all this time, so why are you sorry now?”

  “I’m sorry about everything, especially for hurting you. I never meant for this to happen.”

  “You never meant for me to find out, you mean.”

  “No, Tam. Stop putting words in my mouth. I never meant for any of this to happen. The whole affair.”

  “Who is she?” Tamara asked.

  “Just somebody I met awhile ago.”

  “Who is she?” Tamara asked him again. “Do I know her?”

  “No, you don’t know her.” Richard didn’t want to confess to Tamara that she had met Portia when they bought their car a year ago.

  It was Portia who greeted Richard and Tamara when they arrived at the car dealership. She saw the couple come in and directed them to a car salesman. Richard returned to the dealership and sought Portia out. He reminded her that he was there the day before and he couldn’t get her off of his mind.

  “You were here with your wife, right?” Portia had asked.

  Richard had chuckled shamefully. “Yeah, well, uh . . .”

  “It’s okay,” Portia had said. “I don’t have a problem with that.”

  Tamara continued to interrogate Richard. “Are her boobs bigger than mine? Is her butt bigger than mine?”

  “Tam, please don’t do this.”

  “I wanna know what made you turn to her. I do everything for you, Richard. I cook for you, keep the house clean, and I give you sex when you want it.”

  Tamara’s last statement was a true statement. During her menstrual cycle was the only time when Tamara wasn’t submissive. But she couldn’t hold a candle to Portia when it came to the kind of sex Richard enjoyed having. Tamara was too conservative, too proper, and didn’t like to explore the marriage bed and see all that it had to offer. There was never any foreplay with Tamara. For the right price Portia fulfilled Richard’s every fantasy. If he told her to jump, she would climb on top of the dresser and dive on top of him. If he told Portia to squat, she would make her butt cheeks touch the floor. And foreplay was mandatory and exciting. Portia danced for Richard. She teased him with feathers and handcuffs. She rocked his world.

  “I was at your every beck and call. How could you do . . .” Tamara choked on her tears.

  Richard scooted closer to her bed. “Baby, I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this up to you, I promise.”

  Tamara didn’t want Richard in her presence. “Get out of here.”

  Richard looked at his wife pleadingly. “Baby, please.”

  Tamara gathered what little strength she had and yelled as loud as she could, “Get out!”

  Richard stood and walked toward the door with his head hanging low. Before he left his wife’s hospital room he turned around. “I love you, Tam.”

  Tamara connected her eyes with Richard’s. He had just confessed to her that he’d been unfaithful for an entire year. Tamara wondered if Richard even knew what the word “love” meant. Looking at Richard standing and pleading for her forgiveness disgusted her. “You can take that lie to your whore. She just might believe you.”

  Richard left Tamara’s hospital room hastily. He knew her parents and sisters were on their way to see about Tamara and he didn’t want to be hassled by their questions. Besides he had a more pressing issue. Richard had somewhere else to be, someone else to see, and something else to do.

  * * *

  Rich
ard had been sitting in his car and waiting for Portia to come home for over four hours. He had a lot to think about during that time. Like the countless times that he had come through for Portia when she needed her car note paid. The numerous times she called and cried that her rent was due, Richard was there with cash in his hand. And the biweekly hair appointments and monthly nail appointments that Richard afforded Portia should have been enough. But when Richard thought about it, the money he sacrificed behind his wife’s back was never enough for Portia. She always wanted more. Of course Richard knew that withdrawing money from the bank account he shared with Tamara was risky, but the sexcapades that he and Portia shared were worth it.

  As he sat in his car outside of Portia’s apartment building and waited for her, Richard made a vow to himself that he would never cheat on Tamara again. He realized that not even Portia was worth losing his marriage for.

  Portia didn’t see him parked across the street from her apartment complex as she drove into her assigned parking spot. Richard sat patiently gripping the steering wheel tightly as he watched Portia exit her car and enter the building. Through the glass doors Richard saw her retrieve her mail from the mailbox in the vestibule. He watched Portia insert her key in the lock of the glass door and proceed to the elevator. Portia disappeared from Richard’s view. He waited five more minutes before exiting his car.

  In her apartment Portia was just about to make herself some dinner when her doorbell rang. She walked to the intercom next to the front door. “Who is it?” she asked after she pressed the talk button then released it to listen.

  “It’s me.”

  She frowned. “Who is me?”

  “It’s me, Richard. Buzz me in,” he said as calmly as he could.

  Richard never visited Portia unannounced. And even though he tried to sound normal Portia knew exactly why he was down in the lobby of her building. Richard had told Portia that his wife would be home from her weekend trip that afternoon. And since Richard was ringing her doorbell, Portia figured the missus must have found the gifts she had left behind.

  “What do you want, Richard?”

  In the lobby Richard paced back and forth in front of the small, round speaker mounted on the wall. “I wanna talk to you.”

  Portia knew exactly what Richard wanted to talk about but she asked the question anyway. “About what?”

  Richard was so hot and bothered, he began to sweat. “I just wanna talk.”

  Portia wasn’t absolutely sure that Richard’s wife had found the gifts she left behind but since Richard was at her apartment and sounding a little too calm, wanting to talk about nothing, Portia wasn’t about to take any chances. “This is not a good time, Richard. I’m busy.”

  Richard’s breathing got heavy. He made two tight fists then released his hands. It took every ounce of self control he had to stay calm. “Please, baby. I had a rough day. Let me in.” He was willing to say whatever was necessary to get Portia to allow him access.

  Portia contemplated but her gut instinct overruled. “I said this is not a good time, Richard. And you know better than to come to my apartment without calling first.”

  Richard slammed his fist against the speaker. He could no longer restrain himself. “I’m through playing with you, Portia. Buzz this door open. Now!”

  His outburst was the confirmation that Portia needed. At that moment Portia knew that Richard was in trouble with his wife and Portia also knew that she was the reason. “You must be crazy if you think I’m gonna let you in here when you’re acting a fool. What is wrong with you?”

  “What the heck do you think is wro . . .” Richard took a deep breath and calmed down. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just got something on my mind that I gotta talk to you about. Will you please buzz me in?”

  “No, Richard. Go home and talk to Tamara.” Portia released the talk button and walked away.

  Richard’s inner core exploded. His wife’s name coming out of Portia’s mouth was the match that ignited him. For ten minutes he paced the foyer. But lucky be a man that evening when an elderly woman strolled into the building struggling with three grocery bags. Richard was quickly at her side. “Let me help you with those, ma’am.”

  The gray-haired old woman stood no more than four feet tall. She was more than happy to release the load. “Thank you.” She allowed Richard to take her bags and inserted her key into a lock that would give him entry. The old woman escorted Richard to her third-floor apartment. “Just leave the bags right here by the door, sugar. I can get them from here.”

  Richard set the bags on the floor outside her door.

  The woman opened her purse to give Richard some money. “Here ya go, sugar. I sho ’preciate it.”

  “That’s okay, ma’am. I don’t want your money,” Richard said. He wasn’t the least bit interested in the old woman’s money. He had to get to Portia.

  The woman pressed the money into Richard’s hand. “Go on and take this and buy yourself something nice.”

  In his hand was a shiny nickel. Richard put it in the right front pocket of the jeans he was wearing. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said and scurried back to the elevator. He got back on and pressed the button for the sixth floor. Moments later he stood outside of Portia’s unit and knocked.

  Portia had just slipped on her nightgown when she looked through the peephole. “How did you get up here?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Open the door.”

  Portia slid the safety chain into its lock then opened the door. Through a one-inch crack she saw a distraught Richard. There was sweat on his brow and Richard’s jaw line was tight. “What do you want?” she asked irritably.

  “Take the chain off the door.”

  “If you wanna talk then talk from the hallway.”

  In a split second the chain on the door snapped and Richard had Portia pinned against the wall, in the foyer, by her neck. Her feet left contact with the floor as he slid her up the wall.

  “What is wrong with you? Huh? What the heck is wrong with you, Portia? Why are you playing games with my wife?” As he spoke showers of Richard’s saliva landed on Portia’s face.

  Very little air was getting to her lungs. Portia gasped and coughed. She tried to remove Richard’s hand from around her throat. Her legs swung from Richard’s knees to the wall behind her as she kicked. The acrylic on Portia’s fingernails slashed Richard across his face. Richard yelled out and released her. Portia fell to her knees and tried to crawl away but wasn’t fast enough. Richard grabbed Portia by her hair and threw her across her living room. The back of her head met violently with the porcelain end of the cocktail table and she screamed. Portia saw stars. Richard rushed to Portia and kicked the right side of her neck. Again she screamed.

  He stooped and punched her in the middle of her chest. “Do you know what you did to my wife? Huh, do you?”

  The blow Richard applied to her chest took Portia’s breath away but she managed to bellow out another scream. He dragged Portia by her arms, to her bedroom, as she kicked and hollered. Richard possessed the strength of Hercules. He picked Portia up and threw her on the bed. She tried to get up but another blow to her chest sent her flying backward. Richard dove on top of Portia and lifted her gown to her waist. Portia used all of her might to wiggle from under him but couldn’t do it. Richard covered Portia’s mouth with his left hand to silence her screams. With his right hand he unzipped his pants and forced himself into her. “You screwed with my wife so now I’m screwing you.”

  Though Richard had been on top of Portia many times, that time it felt like he’d gained fifty pounds. She could do nothing but lie there and moan.

  When Richard had finished doing what he came to do he stood and looked at her. Portia rolled onto her side and cried loudly. Her tears didn’t move Richard at all. He wiped sweat from his forehead. He panted as he spoke to Portia. “I’m gonna tell you this one time and one time only. Stay away from Tamara. Don’t call her, don’t e-mail her, and don’t even come within one hun
dred feet of her. If I even hear of you contacting her . . .” He paused. “I swear I’ll kill you.” He zipped his pants and turned to walk away.

  “You won’t even have a wife when she finds out that I’m pregnant!” Portia spat the words out of her mouth. She wasn’t pregnant but she wanted to make Richard angrier than he already was.

  That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She was just beaten and raped but Portia didn’t care. She was determined to have the last say so even it cost her life.

  Richard stopped in his tracks, turned back around, and gave Portia a glare that let her know she had just made a mistake, a grave mistake. The glare she saw in Richard’s eyes put the fear of God in Portia. It wasn’t like all the other times when he had ogled her with lust and pleasure. It was a different look. A look that Portia had seen on victims’ faces in Stephen King’s horror movies when the music started to play. The kind of music that warned viewers that something tragic was about to happen. Someone was going to die.

  Richard rushed toward Portia and leapt on top of her and punched her face over and over and over again. He didn’t let up until she stopped moving and lay still.

  Chapter 7

  Dead or Alive

  It was approximately 2:00 a.m. when the loud shrill of the telephone startled Celeste. Whenever the telephone rang in the wee hours of the morning it usually meant that something was wrong.

  She nervously answered it on the second ring. “Hello?”

  Ginger was hysterical. Screaming and talking fast at the same time. Celeste couldn’t make out anything she was saying. “Ginger, calm down. What happened?”

  The only words Celeste comprehended were, “Portia,” “hospital,” and “dead.” It was Ginger’s last word that made Celeste sit up on the bed and scream to the top of her lungs.

  Anthony was sleeping on the living room sofa when he heard Celeste. The sofa had become his place of rest since the evening he overheard Dr. Bindu accidentally reveal Celeste’s secret. He jumped up and ran into their bedroom. In the dark Anthony accidentally stubbed his baby toe on the edge of the cocktail table. He cursed out loud. He grabbed his toe and hobbled into the bedroom.