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Justify My Love: An Interracial Romance (BWWM)

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by Caine, Candy


  It seemed Marty always needed this or that. He was the sickly child who needed extra coddling and attention. When he told their parents he wanted to become a doctor, all resources went toward him achieving that goal, which were never realized because her brother never seemed to finish anything he ever started. Marnie pleaded with her parents to allow her to go to college. She was told she’d have to find her own way to finance that venture. She did. She worked and took out student loans, but not before the window of her mind finally opened to allow the truth in and she saw her parents for what they really were.

  What a mess she’d made of her personal life. But, like everything else, she’d find a way to move on.

  Chapter Six

  After a full day of reflection, Marnie went to work on Monday with new resolve. She desired to have nothing to do with either Jason or Scott. She had let her answering machine screen all her calls. Jason had called at least three times asking her to call back. He eventually gave up and told her to get in touch with him after she cooled off and saw things from a different perspective. Scott, on the other hand, had called at least a dozen times, trying to explain what had happened. She had no desire to listen to what he had to say. It would be all lies in a desperate attempt to save his two-timing hide and cut the machine off the minute she heard his voice. He, too, stopped calling. Not hearing the phone ring was heavenly.

  Monday, being the first day of the week, would be a new beginning for her and she wouldn’t give either man a moment of her time. At least, those were her intentions. Besides, she had that new case to focus all her attention and energy on.

  “’Morning, Marnie,” Debbie said, offering her a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks, Deb. Don’t put through any calls from Scott Langley or Jason Whitman.”

  Debbie raised an eyebrow, but knew by Marnie’s tone not to ask why. If Marnie wanted her to know why, she’d tell her in good time. “By the way, you have a new client coming in at ten this morning.”

  “Right. Thanks,” Marnie said and sat down to look through her messages.

  * * *

  Marnie entered Frank’s office. Sitting opposite him was a woman in her late thirties. She was holding a bunch of wadded tissues. Her red hair nearly matched the redness surrounding her doe-like, brown eyes and the skin covering her pink cheekbones was blotchy. Her face oval and delicate features reminded Marnie of a porcelain doll. And the woman looked just as breakable.

  Frank’s voice tore Marnie’s attention from the woman. “Have a seat, Marnie. I’d like to introduce you to Marishka Kalb.”

  The woman nodded and shook Marnie’s hand. Trembling to the touch, it was the calloused hand of a woman who did much physical labor. Perhaps self-conscious about her roughened hand, the woman pulled it back quickly. Frank nodded to the woman to begin. She spoke in a quiet voice with a thick, eastern European accent.

  “I read in newspaper how you helped another woman. Maybe you might help me, too, but I have small money and big problem.”

  Marnie smiled at the woman’s way of phrasing the situation. “Please tell me your problem, Mrs. Kalb. Perhaps, I can help you.”

  “I wish to divorce my husband.”

  “Is he agreeable?”

  “No. He will kill me if I leave him,” Mrs. Kalb replied and dabbed at her eye with a tissue.

  “Is your husband a violent man?”

  “He beats me when he drinks too much. Now each night he drinks more and more.”

  “Do you have children?”

  “Yes, a girl of nine and a boy of six. John will take them from me if I go.” Again she wiped her eyes.

  “John. Is that your husband’s name?” Marnie asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Does he hurt the children?”

  Mrs. Kalb covered her face and began to sob. Marnie wasn’t sure if it was because of the question she’d asked or for some other reason. So she rephrased the question.

  Mrs. Kalb, with an expression of pain etched across her face, began to fidget as if the chair had become terribly uncomfortable. And still the question remained unanswered. Desiring to make the woman more comfortable, Marnie made still another attempt to elicit an answer. “Does John hit the children?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Does he hurt either one in other ways?”

  Mrs. Kalb’s hands flew to cover her face, as if the shame were too terrible to bear.

  Marnie knew she’d hit a nerve. She waited patiently until the woman’s sobbing stopped.

  “Would you care for some water, Mrs. Kalb?” Frank asked quietly.

  She nodded and he poured her a cup from the cooler in the corner of the room. The distraught woman drank the water greedily, but couldn’t bring her eyes to meet Marnie’s. Marnie realized the topic had made the poor woman feel uncomfortable, but she needed to know the answers in order to build a strong case against the husband.

  “Can you tell me how John treats the children? If it weren’t crucial to your divorce proceedings, I wouldn’t ask.”

  In nothing more than a whisper, the woman said, “I saw him touching our little girl like he touches me. I worry he will do more terrible things soon.”

  Marnie admired the woman for having the courage to seek a divorce. Many women remained trapped in brutal marriages that only worsened in time. These marriages usually ended more often in the death of one or both of the spouses, rather than divorce.

  “We will try to do all that we can to help you, Mrs. Kalb.”

  “You must call me Marishka. And I thank you.”

  “I’ll stay in close touch. If it’s necessary, we’ll have you stay in a special place where your husband can’t harm you or your children.”

  “Again, I thank you,” Marishka said, and left.

  “I have a bad feeling about this one, Frank”

  “Any worse than the case you just had?”

  “Twice as bad,” Marnie replied.

  “But you’ll take the case?”

  “Of, course. The woman needs help. She’s terribly frightened of her husband. I have a feeling he’s more violent than she lets on.”

  “Well, not all men are pussycats like me,” Frank deadpanned.

  That broke the tension in the room and Marnie laughed. “I’ll get started on this right away,” she said and went back to her office.

  As she passed Debbie he said, “Get Rick Thompson on the phone for me. I need to speak with him.”

  Rick Thompson was a former cop. Some called him a loose cannon; while others said he did what he had to in order to get the job done. He ended up with the most citations, both favorable and unfavorable in his jacket, before a bullet nearly paralyzed him. Obviously reading the handwriting on the wall, Rick got out with a decent pension while he was still alive and able to enjoy it. He was now a successful private investigator and Marnie’s office relied a great deal on his expertise.

  Debbie buzzed Marnie that Rick was on the line. She immediately picked up the phone receiver.

  “Hello, Rick.”

  “So you’ve finally decided to take me up on my offer to run away to Tahiti together?”

  With laughter in her voice, she said, “Don’t you ever get tired of asking?”

  “With you, sweetheart, never! What’s up, doll?”

  “I need some information on a John Kalb, residing at 3434 Windsor Ct. in Marlboro, New Jersey. As far as we know, he’s some kind of executive for Scott International. Whatever background info you can dredge up on him will be helpful.”

  “What do you know about him so far?”

  “He likes his own six-year-old daughter and has a short fuse. Likes to hit his wife.”

  “Sounds like a nasty piece of work to me. I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thanks, Rick. Speak to you soon.”

  Marnie looked at the time. She had to be in court for the sentencing of one of John

  Reilly’s clients while John was having his gall bladder removed. It was an assault case that had been bargained down to a lesse
r charge and shouldn’t be too time consuming.

  She thought about Marishka Kalb. When she drew up the divorce papers and John Kalb was served with them, she knew there’d be potential danger for Marishka. To avoid any wait in getting her tucked away in a safe house, she’d start the process while she was at court that morning. Marishka’s life could be dependent on it.

  * * *

  Scott Langley put the phone down. Getting acclimated to his new position as an ADA, he hardly had the time to chase after Marnie. Though he couldn’t stop thinking about her, he was frustrated to the point of giving up, he finally realized there was no way he was going to be able to talk to the woman, short of accosting her on the street. The entire situation had turned into a nightmare. He couldn’t believe what had taken place that day.

  Angel had gone way too far this time. Not that she had been actually cognizant of what she was doing. She was too strung out on dope to even know what day it was. There was no way she could remain straight long enough to hold down a decent job, so short of panhandling, where was she getting the money to finance her habit? Where was she living? On the street? He was afraid to imagine. Where did she disappear for days and sometimes weeks on end? This craziness had to end. He couldn’t deal with her any more, for she’d become a danger to herself as well as others. She had to be institutionalized for her own good before something terrible happened. Besides, he was way too tired of being his sister’s keeper. He’d paid his dues. His father had gotten off way too easy by dying.

  This time, however, had definitely been the proverbial last straw. Scott had never seen Angel so messed up. He wondered if she was actually trying to kill herself by degrees. When she arrived on his doorstep that Saturday from God knows where, she was shaking and talking so fast, he could hardly keep up with her. Even so, she came right to the point and asked for money. When he told her that he wouldn’t give her another cent until she cleaned up her act, she flew in his face. Luckily he’d grabbed both her arms or she would have scratched both his eyes out. He sat her down in a chair, threatening to tie her to it if she didn’t settle down. The he tried to talk some sense into her.

  What she needed was help—the kind he couldn’t provide. She had to go into a rehab program and detox. He’d called Frank and asked him to see if he could get her into a program and was waiting for him to call back when all hell broke loose.

  Angel came on to him like some whore. The only thing that seemed to matter to her was relieving herself sexually. She wanted a man—any man and he was available. By the time Marnie called from the restaurant, he’d thought she’d calmed down and had forgotten about having sex. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

  When Scott diverted his attention from his sister to the phone call, Angel began to act like a bitch in heat. She grabbed at his crotch and tried to unzip his pants. He tried to swat her hands away, thoroughly disgusted him that this vile creature was his own sister. To make matters worse, she then bolted from his apartment and disappeared.

  The entire time she’d been there he tried to find out where she’d been staying and what she’d been doing since he last saw her months ago, with little luck. Now she was gone again. How the hell was he supposed to deal with her?

  In retrospect, perhaps he should have told Marnie about his stepsister. It might have prevented this entire misunderstanding between them. He knew why he didn’t, though, having already gone down that terrible road with another woman. A lesson well learned, he’d originally thought. Such an embarrassment is better kept in the closet, especially until after relationships are strong enough to handle such terrible discoveries. Only it had applied to Marnie. Now, surmising the kind of woman Marnie was, he was certain he’d blown his chances with her. As far as she was concerned, he’d stood her up to be with another woman. She must have felt awful sitting in that fancy restaurant alone waiting for him. Damn Angel! He wanted to strangle her. Only, he’d have to find her first.

  If only Marnie would talk to him and give him a chance to explain. Why was she being so unreasonable? Not only hadn’t she answered any of his calls, he was almost certain she hadn’t listened to one word of any messages he’d left on her answering machine. Like a Pavlovian response, the minute she heard his voice, she probably hit the erase button.

  With the demands of his position as an ADA, he hardly had the time to battle Angel and her demons. It seemed so uncanny how she always picked the worse times to resurface. The last time she showed up unannounced, she crashed an intimate little get together he was having with a hot little number he’d met at a club. Indirectly, Angel had nearly put a wedge between him and his former girlfriend. He didn’t even want to recall that. It was almost as if she was bent on destroying his happiness. She probably wanted him to be as miserable as she was. However, he had no time to dwell on all that. Right now he had to focus all his energy on his new job and the stack of cases he’d just inherited.

  A sudden vision of Marnie flashed in his mind. Never had he been so attracted to a woman before. Most of the women in his life had played a small role before he moved on. For the most part, he cared little for permanent relationships. But Marnie, with her full kissable lips and that perfect 10 body, had a toehold in his mind. He imagined one scenario after another making love to Marnie. What was wrong with him? The more unattainable she seemed, the more he desired her. Why couldn’t he just take the hint and walk away?

  The answer came to him like a lightning flash, as he snapped the pencil he’d been holding. He was behaving like a lovesick teenager. How ridiculous, he thought. Well, that was going to stop right then and there, he decided, narrowing his eyes and setting his jaw.

  It was time to put everything in its perspective. Perhaps he should look at Marnie’s refusal to listen to his explanation as a good thing. After all, if she was so closed-minded about this, how might she react the next time they had a misunderstanding? Besides, who was she to take such a high-and-mighty stance? Had she never made a mistake? Or had her plans suddenly gone awry? She had been totally out of line and 100 percent unreasonable. She might be a bright lawyer, but she was behaving like a child. He’d eaten enough humble pie. If she didn’t have enough gumption to at least give him a chance to clear the air, the hell with her. He didn’t care if she was Frank’s protégé or not. He didn’t need her company. There were plenty other women who’d love to go out with him. He breathed deeply. It felt good to walk upright like a man again. And with that, he pushed all thoughts of Marnie aside and concentrated on his agenda for the day.

  * * *

  Waiting in the hall at the courthouse for her case to be called, Marnie overheard two women talking about some guy who had just joined their staff. She soon realized that they were from the DA’s office and were talking about Scott.

  “Is he attached?” a tall blonde in a tailored blue suit inquired.

  The other woman, a shorter brunette wearing a beige suit, shrugged her shoulders.

  “Since when does that matter? Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

  The blonde laughed. “I wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of that one. Did you notice how his suits hug that glorious body of his?”

  “I ain’t blind, girlfriend. The face ain’t so bad, either. ”

  “I didn’t get that high yet.”

  “You’re so bad!” the brunette chastised.

  “And I love every moment,” the blonde replied and both women shared a hearty laugh.

  “Unbelievable,” Marnie said aloud to herself through a tightly clenched jaw. Just as she suspected, good ole Scott was busy charming his way up through the ranks. It had certainly worked with me, she thought. Perhaps most women react the same way to a handsome face and great body. She wouldn’t allow herself to become that weak again.

  Her case was called and all thoughts of Scott and his sexual conquests were pushed from the forefront of Marnie’s mind. The proceedings were finished within ten minutes. John Heights, the client, was sentenced to six months, which was a fair sentence for h
is fraud conviction. Too bad all court cases weren’t handled as swiftly, Marnie mused as she gathered her papers. The system might have a chance of working if this happened more often.

  Marnie stepped into the elevator. Just as she was about to press the button for the lobby, a hand reached in to block the doors from closing. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to pound as she recognized the school ring on that hand.

  Scott stiffened with surprise, his eyes widening, as he saw Marnie standing there.

  God, he looked great in a charcoal gray suit that brought out the silver in his eyes. She felt her insides liquefy, but she fought the impulse to engage him. He’d two-timed her making him lower than a corpse’s blood pressure in her book. She turned away and stepped back from the control panel.

  Scott’s expression had gone from surprise to something she couldn’t quite define before his eyes narrowed as he punched in the ground floor button.

  She heard someone say, “Thanks for holding,” and was relieved when a man holding an attaché case got on.

  The doors closed and they rode in silence to the ground floor. When the doors opened,

  Marnie fled from the building not trusting her resolve.

  * * *

  Scott stood there watching her go. He could have kicked himself for not saying something in his own defense to her. Hadn’t he waited for such a chance? No. It was good that he didn’t make a fool of himself. She was being rigid and unreasonable. He should have been given the chance to explain what had happened. Yeah. He’d definitely dodged a bullet. So why had his cock stirred at the very sight of her? And why was she still under his skin like a bur? Worse, why was he torturing himself? She was only a damn woman and there were many more out there. So why allow her to get to him?

  * * *

  As Marnie drove back to the office, she forced her mind off of Scott and back to Marishka Kalb.

  She wondered if Rick Thompson had called back with the report on John Kalb. She didn’t think he’d be able to dig up a great deal on the man, but whatever information he did find was one more piece that she had. She always viewed the people involved in her cases as puzzles. She tried to find the right pieces that made them tick, a traumatic experience or deprived childhood. Events often molded people causing them react in the manner they did. Also, especially with a volatile person like John Kalb, it would be in the best interest of Marishka Kalb for Marnie to know how he might react to a certain line of questioning or actions taken by her on her client’s behalf. In some cases, it could save lives, even though; there was no foolproof way to know. An educated guess is better than nothing at all. And to think her father once laughed at her for taking classes in psychology.

 

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