by Peyton Banks
He made me feel so good. Inside and out. I mean, physically and mentally. It was good. He was attentive and encouraging. Sexy with dirty talk that made me blush. Thinking about him made me short of breath. I fanned myself and jumped when the oven buzzed again.
His story explained the sadness in his eyes. I would give him up if he could have his family back. I cared for him that much.
I checked on the casserole in the oven. Spicy cheese aroma wafted into the air. I inhaled it. The top hadn’t browned yet. It needed a few more minutes. I reset the timer and returned to my bedroom. Everything was in its place.
I flopped on my bed. Oscar didn’t care if I made my bed or if I burned dinner. I exhaled. This wasn’t about my past. It was about now. I liked to have everything in order, but the distinction it wasn’t the end of the world if it wasn’t. It didn’t mean life or death if I had a glass out of place or put the cereal box back on a different shelf. No one would chastise, degrade, or humiliate me for failing to clean my hair off the bathroom floor.
A tear slipped down my cheek. I ran my hands through my hair. It had grown out since that day. I wore my hair straight and long, well past my shoulders. It took me my whole life to grow out. One day Jacob came home pissed off about something, but my hair had clogged up the bathtub, again. He dragged me off the couch and threw me into the tub. He punched me in the stomach so hard, I threw up all over myself. I sunk into the tub in my own sick, unable to move. He left the bathroom. I thought it was over, but he returned minutes later with scissors. I didn't move. My body went numb. I had no more fight left.
I swallowed.
The pain from his punches faded, but cutting my hair, that hurt lingered. It never got better after the hair incident. Thank god, I didn't stick around for it to get any worse.
I touched my hair and blinked.
I inhaled and exhaled.
The doorbell rang. I stood up and smoothed out my skirt. I scanned my studio. I crossed the apartment and opened the door.
I stepped back and smiled, taking in the man who made me feel like I was worthy of love. The man changed my opinion on how I deserved to be treated.
I wrapped my arms around his torso and hugged him. I inhaled his scent. He wore cologne, a woodsy spice. I breathed him in.
He didn’t hug me back.
I stepped away and stared into his eyes. Something was different. They weren’t bright and clear. He was distant and distracted. The sadness crept back in. Did he regret last night?
“Come in.” I pulled on his shirtsleeve.
He brushed past me. The familiar electrical jolt shot through my body.
He felt it too as he paused before taking the next step into my place. He surveyed the small space.
“It’s not much.” I shrugged.
I looked around as if seeing it for the first time. It was tidy and cozy.
I shook my head. I walked past him and grabbed his arm.
He flinched.
I released his arm.
“You want a drink?” I patted the stool next to the island It separated the living room from the kitchen.
“Sure.” He nodded.
I pulled two beers out of the refrigerator. When I turned back around, Oscar’s gaze burned into me.
I set the beers on the counter.
I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth. The buzzer on the oven went off.
“Dinner’s almost ready.” I turned to the stove and pulled out the dish. “Have you ever had chicken enchilada casserole? My mother used to make it for me.”
I placed it on the stove.
“I thought we were going out?” He snagged a beer and returned to the center of my place as if afraid to come any further.
“I thought it might be nice to eat here. I never cook.” I came around the island and handed him a beer. “Besides, I want to talk.”
“Have a seat.” I motioned towards the couch.
He leaned against the back of the couch instead. He took a long drag of his beer and held it with his arms crossed.
“Are you okay?” I stood in front of him.
He nodded.
“You don’t seem okay.”
“How do I seem?” He took another drag.
“Pissed off.” I tipped my head and put my hands on my hips.
His eyes grew wide.
“You are very observant. I’ve learned that about you.” He stood. “Smart, quick-witted, very clever.”
“Thank you.” I spit back at him. “What is going on with you?”
“You’re also fucking married.”
I blinked and clutched my chest.
He stepped towards me and set the beer on the island. His glare burned a hole in my chest.
“You lied to me.” He blinked, opened his mouth, and grunted.
“Please don’t yell at me.” I hugged myself and stepped around him, retreating to the kitchen. I needed distance.
“Don’t yell at you?” He slammed his fist on the island. “Why would you keep that from me? What game are you playing Shani Daniels?” My married name sounded like a curse word on his lips.
I flinched and gripped the kitchen counter behind me.
“No.” My heart leaped in my chest. “I am not playing games with you.”
“Then why? Tell me why you’d pursue me if you weren’t available.” He leaned over the island.
I searched my brain for a reasonable answer. Something to make him feel better. I could go with the truth, but at this point I wasn’t sure he would believe me. Not when he was so angry.
“Fuck, Shani.” He came around the island towards me. I scooted around the other side. “Do you still love him?”
I blinked.
Anger radiated off him and filled my space.
I remained silent. I pulled my collar away from my neck. The walls in my small apartment moved in on me and made it hard to breathe.
“I need you to leave,” I whispered. Oscar didn’t hear me.
“Was this your plan all along?” He continued towards me. His words barely registered. “String me along until he was ready to take you back? Was I something to pass the time? Something new to try?”
“Get out.” I walked backward towards the door. Never taking my eyes off my assailant. My hand wrapped around the doorknob. Oscar continued to pursue. My back flattened against the door. He stood over me.
“Shani, I told you things, talked about things I hadn’t told anyone in a long time. Why? Why would you do that to me? Why pull me into your charade?” Oscar searched my face.
I didn’t answer.
He slammed the door over my head.
I covered my head and crouched near the floor.
“Shani,” he whispered and reached for me.
I scrambled out from his reach down the wall back towards the kitchen. I stood up and turned.
“Get out.” My lungs burned. My heart beat at an erratic pace. I gripped a chair in front of me, ready to haul it into his fucking face if he took another step forward.
“I’m sorry.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just upset.”
“Get out.” I blinked, surprised as the tears fell down my face. I wiped them away with the back of my hand. “Please, just go.”
His eyes darted around, and his shoulders slumped.
His gaze landed on me.
I looked way.
He sighed and turned towards the door.
“If you want to get back with your husband, I won’t interfere.” He opened the door.
I looked up.
“You two seem perfect for each other.” He walked out the door and slammed it shut behind him.
I flinched, ran over, and locked it.
“Perfect for each other.” The realization hit me, and I slumped against the door and slid to the ground.
Oh my God, Jacob is here.
9
Shani
Jacob was here.
He couldn’t be.
But, how did Oscar find out about him?
/> Get back together.
Jacob had lost his damn mind a long time ago. The first time he hit me.
At first, I thought if I became the perfect wife, if I behaved, it would stop. My theory worked until our honeymoon.
Jacob found me in the bar at our resort, chatting with a guy.
Never mind the guy's wife sat on the other side of him. We had talked about their wedding; they were on their honeymoon, too. I had worn a bikini, and according to Jacob, my ass was too big to be wearing it in public. Never mind it was a suit he bought for me, and I wore a cover-up. We were at a beach resort, for fuck’s sake. Jacob said I had giggled too much. Never mind that on more than one occasion he told me how much he loved my laugh.
He punched me in the stomach, flipped me onto my stomach, and fucked me from behind while screaming at me. I was an ungrateful wife. I didn’t appreciate how attentive of a husband I had. I was lucky he wanted to marry my fat ass.
From that first time, I learned to go numb, tune him out. It wasn’t until his anger turned into a stream of tears and apologies followed by pleas for forgiveness, did I return to reality. Along with that came the physical pain. He took care of me. Put me in a bath, cradled me in his arms as he dried me off and laid me in bed. He fed me and brushed my hair, and a few days later, we headed back home and pretended like nothing happened. I saw the same couple as we checked out, they joked about how they had spent the remainder of their trip in their room, too.
It was a whole six months before he hit me again.
And now he was back.
I sat in the corner of my room, curled up with a pillow and blanket. I prayed for sweet surrender of sleep to take over my body. Instead, my mind kept playing over every incident where Jacob had hurt me. The verbal abuse was a constant in our lives.
I dozed off a few times but kept waking from any little noise. Not until the sun peeked through my window, did I give up, stand up, and start my day.
I turned on the shower. My reflection caught me off guard. My eyes were dark and bloodshot, my skin looked dull. I didn’t put on my bonnet last night, so my hair pointed every which way, matted against my head on one side.
I looked at my phone. No message from Oscar. It was late, almost eight-thirty. I had skipped coffee this morning. If he were waiting for me to apologize, he’d wait forever.
I’d seen sadness, heartbreak, compassion, and joy in his eyes, but I never saw anger. He showed it last night. It took me right back to that place. The numbness came over me instinctually, but before it could drag me under, I stood up for myself and threw him out.
Fool me twice, shame on me.
I pulled off my clothes and stepped into the shower. The heat cleared my head. I washed my hair, shaved, and scrubbed until the shower turned my fingers into prunes.
I got out and moisturized my body from hair to toe. I wrapped a T-shirt around my head to let the moisturizer work its way into my natural curls and got dressed.
A booming knock at the door startled me.
I smirked and pulled the T-shirt off my head. I finger-combed my hair as I walked to the front door.
If he wanted to apologize, I would listen and then throw him back out. He had demons, he had given his heart to someone, and she left him. He blamed himself for not saving her.
I blamed myself for not saving myself.
He said he wasn’t a hero. I didn’t need him to save me.
I inhaled and exhaled. The knock rang out again.
I crossed the apartment and threw the door open.
“Hey, Shani.”
I gasped. The dark eyes of the man who broke me stood at my door.
I stepped away from the door.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The locked clapped in my ears.
The familiar click snapped my sanity.
“Wow.” He smirked and looked me up and down. “Fuck, Shani, you look good.”
His eyes lingered over my chest before popping up to my hair.
“Except your hair.” He reached up, but I stepped back before he could touch me. “You got all Afro-centric on me living up here in Brooklyn.” He emphasized Brooklyn with a fake accent.
I stepped back a few feet.
He dropped his arms to his sides. A long, low sigh escaped his lips. He backed away and rubbed his eyes.
“I hate that you’re still mad at me.” He slumped back against the back of the couch and put his hands in his pockets. He stared at my feet.
I rocked on my heels.
He lifted his head and grinned.
“You are still hot, though.” He nodded and continued to ogle me.
I wrapped my arms around my waist and planned my escape in my head. Something I’d never done in this apartment. I never had the need.
“This place is nice, too.” He turned. “It makes for a nice weekend getaway spot. Wish it was in Manhattan, though.”
“How did you find me?” My voice sounded odd. I cleared my throat.
“It didn’t take much.” I nodded. “Shani Rogers. Really.”
“What?” My voice found volume.
“Could you have thought of a more stupid name?” He shook his head. “You think Captain America will swoop down and save you?”
“How did you find me?” I wanted an answer.
“Your mother.”
“My mother.”
“Don’t blame her.” He took a step towards me. “I told her I had some stuff to send to you. It had to go out that day because I was leaving the country the next. I thought it was odd, her giving you up so easily. Then I figured you didn’t share your lies with your mother.”
I stepped back into the kitchen. He followed and placed his hands on the island and the counter to block me in.
I backed up towards the island. I readied myself to make a run for the door.
“I’m really sorry, Shani.”
I paused and stared at him.
“Please, Shani.” His head dropped, but his eyes remained on me. “Can I please talk to you? For real, no tricks, no games.”
His shoulders shook, and he covered his face. The transformation was swift and unnerving.
My hands trembled. I gripped the counter to stop them.
Jacob rubbed his face and then steeled his gaze on me. It pinned me in place.
I bit my lip and blinked.
“Oh Shani. I miss you so much.” He reached his hand out. “I know we had our problems, but I love you, and I want to work on them, together. I forgive you for fucking that firefighter. You have a damsel in distress fetish, but he can’t rescue you. Let me. Let me rescue you, baby.”
“No,” I whispered. My eyes darted around as I looked for the closest weapon.
“You love me too. I can see it in the way your body responds to me.” He grinned. “If you were still angry, you would have kicked me out by now.”
“No,” I said louder. “I don’t need rescuing.”
“Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me you don’t still want me.” He didn’t even hear me. Jacob caressed my cheek with the back of his hand.
I recoiled from his touch. My body switched to survival mode, but not in the way I wanted. The numbness took over, started at my fingers and toes and working through my limbs. I had to keep it away. I needed to fight or run. I wasn’t going to lay down and take it any longer. He no longer had any power over me. The rage inside of me pushed the numbness at bay.
I lifted my head and steadied my feet.
“No.” I squared my shoulders and pushed him away. “Don’t touch me.”
I scooted past the other side of the island but didn’t get far before he gripped my arm and pulled me back to him.
“No?” he screamed. “You don’t get to say no to me.”
“Please, Jacob.” His fingers dug into my biceps. I pried his fingers off. He clamped down on the back of my neck and pulled me flush against him. My back to his front.
“Beg me,” he whispered in my ear and licked my earlobe.
I
struggled against him, but he was too strong.
“Beg me to take you back.” He pushed his hand through my hair and yanked my head back. My scalp stung.
He bent me over the island, my chest pressed into the counter top.
“I know what you need to remember.” He rubbed himself into my ass.
“No.” Panic rose in my chest. “Stop.”
My arms flailed behind me. He captured one wrist and drug it behind my back.
I cried out in pain.
“Say it,” he screamed as he crushed my arm between our bodies. “Tell me you want me.”
“No.” I pushed back against him. I lifted my foot and kicked backward as hard as I could. Something popped. He cried out in agony.
I scrambled to my feet and pushed off the island.
“Fucking bitch.” He grabbed onto my T-shirt and yanked me back.
He gripped the back of my head. The pantry door came rushing at my forehead as he slammed me into it twice.
Pain exploded behind my eyes. A whimper escaped my lips before my world disappeared.
10
Oscar
Shani’s scream rang through the door. Panic seized my heart. I banged on the door.
“No,” Shani yelled, followed by a thud and a sick moan, then silence.
“Shani.” I banged on the door. “It’s O, open the door.” I placed my head against the door. I heard muffled sounds from inside the apartment.
I banged again.
“Jacob.” I hit the door so hard, my knuckles ached, but I kept pounding. “Jacob, if you’re in there, please let me talk to Shani.”
He didn’t respond.
I tried the door, but he locked it.
I reared back and shoved the door with all my strength. A stinger ran up my arm to my neck. My arm numbed. The door frame cracked. I shook my arm out, stepped back, bracing myself to kick it.
I lifted my foot then stopped.
A strange smell wafted under the door. I bent down and inhaled. It was gas.
“Jacob.” I banged on the door again.
“Fuck off, Oscar.” His voice full of desperation and panic. “Shani’s not yours. She’s mine. She has always been mine.”