Bittersweet Chocolate (11 page)

Eyes narrowed, Tommy stared at him. “That’s good. Stick with that version when you talk to the police.” He didn’t even try to conceal his sarcasm. “What’s your name?”

“Listen, my name doesn’t matter. If you’re a friend of Marissa’s, I’d like to ask you to do something for her.” Gaze unflinching, he sized Tommy up. “I know about her family, and I wish you’d let her be the one to tell them.”

After a long searching look, Tommy asked, “Whose baby?”

“How did you...all right.” Graham jammed his hands into his pockets, but he remained quiet, eyeing Tommy, trying to decide how much to tell him. “I’m her neighbor, our relationship is new, and yes, I’m the father.” His shoulders slumped. “I don’t know if you’ve ever belonged to a gang, or if you can understand what I’m going to tell you, but there has to be payback. It has to be her decision, how we act on it.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it, okay.”

“Sure. Marissa and I grew up in the same neighborhood. We dated for a while, so I know about her connection to the gang. Seeing what was done to her, if it didn’t go against everything I represent, I’d help get whoever did this to her,” he stated. “But, if you want a piece of their asses, you need to get to them before Frank.”

“Why?”

“Man, if you’d seen the type of protection she had from that gang, you wouldn’t need to ask why. Frank will kill whoever did this, and no one, nothing will stop him...uh, except maybe Marissa. You’d better find them first.” Tommy shrugged. “I’ll try to get back here to say hello to her. If I don’t, tell her I said
hey,
and get well soon.”

Graham walked over and shook his hand. “Thanks, man. I’ll tell her.”

“Take care of her.” Tommy turned and left.

Marissa hadn’t regained consciousness when the police arrived to question her. Graham handled everything, repeating verbatim, the story he’d told Tommy. Before leaving, the police told Graham they wanted to check out Marissa’s apartment, and asked if he had a key to her place. Removing the key from his ring, he handed it to the officer in charge. Sergeant Randall said he’d return the key when he returned to talk to Marissa, once her doctor gave the okay.

Graham called Marissa’s parents.

The first two days after admission, Marissa slipped in and out of consciousness.

Graham remained at her side, holding her hand, watching over her, waiting. Day three, she came fully awake. Staring into lackluster tiger-eyes, it tugged at his heart to see the sparkle had faded. He left his chair and climbed up on the bed to sit beside her. He so wanted to touch her, kiss her, wrap his arms around her, but didn’t dare. Most of the face swelling had subsided, but the severity of the damage hadn’t, and he settled for a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“Gray...”

“How do you feel?”

“Alive,” she croaked.

He nodded. “Honey, I’ve spoken to the police. I told them about the party, and a few hours afterward, I heard you scream and rushed over to see if I could help. Said someone jumped me, but I didn’t get a good look at whoever it was.

“They asked for the names of everyone at the party, and I told them your sister, her fiancé, and the first floor next door neighbors were there,” he explained. “But I said I didn’t know most of the people, they were probably just friends of friends, or people who heard of the party and stopped by. I didn’t tell them anything about Joel or your relationship with him. Damn if I want them to get to him before me.”

Her smile wobbly, she squeezed his hand. Voice a husky whisper, she said, “Thanks, Gray. Joel is going to wish he killed me.”

“He’s going to wish he never met me,” Graham stated. “We have to make sure we have our stories together for the police. They’ve been over the duplex, and what they consider the crime scene, but they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. They took the bedding and your torn gown. Said they’ll be back to question you as soon as your doctor gives the okay.”

“They’ll be wasting their time. Too dark, I didn’t see who attacked me. What are they going to do, arrest me? I wish them luck.”

* * * *

She remained in the hospital for two weeks. Her dad, the immediate family member, besides Brittany, who genuinely cared, called every day. She wished Brittany could have been there, but her fiancé was a Marine, and he and Brittany had left for Japan the day after the party. Of course, she didn’t discount her youngest sister April’s concern, but at her age, April didn’t need this type of trauma in her life.

In regards to her mother, Marissa avoided speaking to her unless necessary. This wasn’t one of those necessary times. She didn’t want to hear her mother’s I-told-you-so. Her mother had to be glad something like this finally happened, just to prove her predictions about Marissa’s errant youth were true. As for Janeen, her oldest sister was too much like their mother. Marissa didn’t need the aggravation.

Conversely, as much as she loved her dad, after his first visit, she had discouraged follow-up visits, knowing the constant sight of her bruises would spur him to retaliation on her behalf. Uh-uh, gang justice dictated one standard of her morality and she wasn’t going to let Joel get away with what he’d done to her.

She had the motivation and capability of exacting her own payback, felt more than justified, even if it ended in murder. It was what Joel had planned for her. Despite being Frank’s first cousin, she
belonged
to the gang, territorial property, to protect or avenge by gang methods. Time she put that to the test. She’d use them as backup.

To distract her father, she asked him to handle her continued absence from work.

“The police called my boss and told him I’d been in an accident and hospitalized, but didn’t go into detail.”

“What do you want me to tell him?” Stephen had asked.

“Something as close to the truth as possible that will account for my prolonged stay.”

Graham was a frequent visitor. They talked and made plans about what they would do when Marissa returned home. “By the way, I’ve had the locks changed on your duplex.”

She reached out and hugged him. “Thanks, Gray.”

The day before her scheduled discharge, the doctor came to see her, but he seemed reluctant to talk in front of Graham because he wasn’t a relative.

“Doctor, whatever you have to say can be said in front of Gray.”

Graham stood by the bed, gripping her.

“Miss Wells, if I hadn’t been able to stop the hemorrhaging, I would’ve done a hysterectomy to save your life,” he explained. “Subsequently, my colleagues and I reassessed the extent of the injuries to your reproductive organs and concluded a hysterectomy might have been the more compassionate thing to do.

“Don’t misunderstand. The damage isn’t life threatening, but it’s enough to conclude there’s a real possibility you’ll never be able to have children. But we’re not infallible, our conclusions are not written in stone,” he acknowledged, never once making eye contact. “Besides, given your age, another reason for not doing the hysterectomy, and with the ongoing advances in medical science, I don’t want you to have false expectations.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

Stunned, her mind screamed denials.
What is he saying? I’m just twenty. No. They’re wrong.
She never uttered a sound.

Graham motioned for the doctor to leave and wrapped his arms around her. “Baby, the doctor said they’re not sure,” he pointed out. “It’s okay to cry.”

She nodded, but she wouldn’t cry. All she could think about were the people responsible for what had happened to her, and why? The pain, the irreparable harm because of Joel’s overinflated ego and perceived humiliation. No, there were no tears, just rage. Tears could wait.

Graham held her, trying to comfort with soothing words that she didn’t comprehend because her mind was actively thinking, planning, and focused on her objective—revenge. She leaned away and asked the one question haunting her since that fateful night.

“Why, Gray? Why did you, Joel, and the others want to hurt me?”

“I never intended to hurt you,” he asserted. “Let me explain. I was at the party where you met Joel―”

“That’s why I thought I recognized you. I must have noticed you there.”

“Probably. I kept my eyes on you, and if Brad hadn’t told the older guys that you were off limits, I’d have made a move on you. So, when Joel concocted his twisted test to see if you’d fall for one of us, he had my interest, but I asked why he’d risk losing you. Claimed the relationship wasn’t serious and he planned to cut you loose after you gave it up.”

“Why the test, if he planned to dump me?”

He shook his head. “I can’t pretend to understand his reasoning, can only speculate. You’d made him wait, challenged his ego in front of his posse. He said you thought you were better than other women he’d been with, and he thought it was an act.”

“Gray, I was a virgin. Joel found that out, our first night together. That should have proved I wasn’t a tease or acting out of spite,” she protested bitterly. “So why would he continue after...” Hell, she knew the answer. To salve his bruised ego...revenge.

He kissed her temple. “I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but I fell in love with you the night you invited me into your apartment. It was my first opportunity to observe you up close and personal, and you were so sincere, fighting the attraction between us. I knew then, you were serious about Joel, and he’d lied about you.”

“I wish I’d known about his attitude that night. By then, we were having problems.”

“He didn’t tell me that, but I called him a fool, told him to give it up. I didn’t hear any more talk about testing you, and thought he’d forgotten the stupidity, and had changed his mind.” He remained quiet for a moment, then, “Honey, Joel wasn’t out of town all the time. Sometimes he stayed next door.”

Damn. The noises she’d heard in the apartment. How’d he get in without her hearing―shit, the kitchen door, at the back of the apartment. There was a fire escape from that door to the backyard.

“Marissa, I swear, if I’d known he intended to do you physical harm, I’d have thrown them under the bus, turned them over to Boo and the council to deal with. What they did goes against any gangs’ code of conduct, made worse by the fact you’re one of us.”

“One more question. How come Darien didn’t recognize you the night we met?”

“Baby, I’m twenty-six, I work, and don’t have time to hang out with the gang like I did as a teenager. I hadn’t seen her since she was about ten years old,” he explained. “Didn’t recognize her or her name, doubtful she’d remember me.”

“Okay, that makes sense.” Her smile tentative, she said, “Gray, Joel must be demented, and I appreciate your attempt to intercede. They could’ve killed you and gotten away with it, because they intended for me to die. No one would have been alive to drop a dime on them.” She idly ran her hands up his back to his neck. “Will you help me? I intend to fulfill my promise to Joel.”

“Baby, he killed our child, almost killed you.”

“Yeah, even after I warned him.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes, but Joel and his friends have disappeared. He has to know your cousin has heard about what happened by now, and his life isn’t worth spit. Camac and Diamond won’t intercede because of the nature of the offense,” he remarked. “Besides, if anybody from C and D went stupid and even considered helping him, your friends are not the gang we could take on without support from several other territories. We both know that won’t happen.

“Furthermore, Boo is pissed. You have his support.”

“Thanks. I needed to hear that. We just have to find them.”

* * * *

Graham stayed with her until she fell asleep. Then he left the hospital and contacted Brad, who agreed to put the word on the street. Together they set things in motion.

Feeling responsible for what happened to Marissa, and knowing any plans they would have had for children in the future died with their child, he prayed he’d find Joel first. That bastard’s misguided notion of entitlement, oh yeah, he deserved first crack at Joel. Moreover, as tough as Marissa seemed, he didn’t want her involved in any more violence.

Damn, he sounded like Brad.

* * * *

The day of her discharge, her dad came to pick her up to take her home, to the family home.

Graham had given her parents the same story he gave the police, but her dad had remained skeptical. If she went home, until she healed completely, her condition would just spur Stephen on to seek retribution on her behalf.

“Dad, I want to go back to my apartment.”

“Why? I don’t want you there alone. Where the hell is Joel?”

“Joel and I broke up months ago.” Unperturbed by her father’s anger, she turned to Graham. “Dad, this is Graham, the man who called you. He’s the one who tried to help me that night, and he lives next door, close enough, if I need help.”

Her father appeared to size Graham up, must have liked what he saw. “Okay, I dislike the idea of you going back to that place, but I won’t argue with you.” He turned to Graham. “You’ll be next door?”

“Sir, I won’t be far away.”

“Good. See if you can talk some sense into my hard-headed daughter.” Stephen winked.

“Dad, have you seen Frank lately?”

“No. Heard he went out of town, something to do with a job. Do you want him?”

“Yes, I need to see him.”

“I’ll get word to him,” Stephen replied. “If I hear anything, I’ll take care of the bastards who hurt you. They won’t hurt anyone else.”

Marissa exchanged a glance with Graham. But she didn’t ask her father how he’d accomplish that feat,
really
didn’t want to know, and hoped he wouldn’t interfere. She intended to get her brand justice.

Hell, she wasn’t just Frank Gaylord’s first cousin, she
belonged
to the gang, Valley territorial property, to protect or avenge by gang methods. Time she put that allegiance to the test, since it was doubtful police would follow up on her case. What would be their incentive to investigate? It was the sixties, she was Negro, hung out with gang members, and everyone involved had been minimally cooperative.