Betrayed (29 page)

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Victor roared, with a scowl on his face.

“I'm talking about being HIV positive, you imbecile. I'm talking about my future not being so bright because I might get AIDS. You stand in my face with that cocky look on your face, but that—”

“HIV?” Victor shouted. “You stupid wench.” And before anyone could blink, Victor tried to reach for the gun.

“Don't do it, Sheila!” Phyllis shouted.

Sheila pulled the trigger. “You animal, you scum of the earth. You don't deserve to live!” Sheila screamed. Her eyes narrowed as the water from the tears clouded her vision.

Another shot rang out and Victor grabbed at his left arm, his eyes wild with fright and his face pinched by the sudden graze of the bullet. “I'm going to kill you, bitch. You tore my good jacket.” And he lunged.

Phyllis cowered on her knees in a corner of the room, using her hands as a shield as Sheila pulled the trigger again.

Pop, pop, pop.
Victor danced to the tune as he dodged the bullets that rained down on him.

“Didn't you hear me, you sorry, no good for nothing ho? You've already killed me. I have HIV. I'm going to die. And to think, I was going to get married this weekend to the love of my life.”

Crouching behind the wall that led into the foyer, Victor suddenly reappeared, stood wild eyed, and stared at Sheila. “Married?”

“Yes, married. I was going to marry the love of my life this weekend. Had I not gotten the blood test, who knows when I would've found out about the HIV?”

“Married? And where were you going to live? Hell, how do you know it wasn't that other nigger that got you infected?”

“I know, and you need to get tested. I wonder what your wife will say when I tell her?”

“You—”

Pop, pop!
Either Sheila was a bad shot or Victor had nine lives. Victor danced and ducked, but seemed to dodge the bullets Sheila hurled. Sheila marched forward, until she had Victor cornered.
Pop
!

“Damn, woman.” Victor grabbed his left arm again, but only for a second as he pulled the door open and stumbled outside.

“Call the po po!” Sheila shouted after Victor as she watched him stagger to the street. “Be glad that the coroner isn't picking up your ass.” Sheila slammed the door. “Dog blood all over my wall. HIV blood. Damn.”

Sheila dropped the gun on the floor and looked around. The warmth that made the house so beautiful was gone. The candles, the soothing colors of the room, the posh furniture couldn't heal the wound that had been made. Sheila crossed her arms over her bosom and walked slowly through the living room, then stopped in her tracks as if she was paralyzed.

“Phyllis, you all right?”

Phyllis' mouth was clamped shut. Her eyes were those of a scared child who'd seen a horrible crime. She looked as if someone had pasted her against the wall with some strong adhesive. Shock, that's what it was.

Sheila held her belly and began to laugh. “Phyllis, girl, are you all right? You look like a scared rabbit stuck on the wall.”

“I peed on myself—in my brand new suit. Paid a little money for it, too, but not so it could smell like pee.”

Sheila fell on the couch and laughed to her heart's content. “Get up off the floor. And you're going to clean my carpet before you leave.”

“Did you kill Victor?”

“Hell naw; he's still alive.”

R
aphael walked briskly away from the hospital and jumped in the Lexus. His mind was heavy…heavy with Mimi's betrayal, heavy with the dark thought of finding Victor Christianson who'd come blasting into his life without notice, although, unbeknownst to him, Victor was a thread in his life dating back nineteen years ago.

The sun was almost set—the moment right before total darkness. Dark clouds began to form in the sky, kind of like the mood Raphael was in. His mood was thick, unpredictable, although the clouds' movements seemed to be swift and sure. Raphael drove blindly through the streets without any direction, without any formal plan, and without any idea of how to begin. He wasn't sure where he was as he'd only been in Durham a little over forty-eight hours, but if he needed it, the car was equipped with GPS. Clearing his head was paramount because he needed to think things over.

Mimi's legs were a little shorter than Raphael's and the seat needed adjusting. He reached for the lever to move the seat back, and when he did, a portion of a wooden box peered from under the seat. Raphael reached down with one hand while keeping his eyes on the road and pulled the box up. Sitting the box on the seat, Raphael unlatched the lock that kept the box closed. Upon opening it, his medium brown eyes became large brown saucers.

Honk, honk, honk.
“Damn,” Raphael said, steering the car quickly to the right to avoid a collision with the car to the left of him. “Whew, that was close.”

Raphael picked up the gun and sat it carefully in his lap, making sure not to call attention to him. He drove until he saw a grocery store and pulled into the parking lot to further examine the gun.

Mimi had good taste—a twenty-two Ruger with a pearl handle. Whomever she planned to pop, she was going to do it in style. And Raphael had an idea who it was—Victor Christianson. Well, he had the gun now, and all he had to do was find Victor before the police did. How he was going to accomplish that, he wasn't sure, although he knew that one part of his plan was solved.

Raphael thought about driving to NC Central's campus, but it was too late in the day. It was six-thirty and everyone would be gone. He drove on aimlessly through downtown Durham that would have been scenic if darkness hadn't approached, but then he saw the sign that gave him an idea.

He turned onto Pettigrew Street and headed for the Greyhound Station. Luck was on Raphael's side, and he eased into the parking space made just for Mimi's car. He jumped from the car and ran inside and found a phone book. Flipping the pages with his finger, Raphael found a listing for Victor Christianson in Chapel Hill.

Taking an ink pen from his jacket, Raphael recorded the address on the back of a piece of advertisement that he scrounged from inside the terminal. Satisfied, he returned to the car and entered the address in the GPS. It was about a thirty-minute ride, but he was up for it, not sure what he was going to do when he got there.

Raphael turned on the radio to distract his attention from what he might be on the verge of doing. He drove down the interstate, rolling around in his sub-conscience what he would do if this or
that scenario presented itself, ignoring Mimi's phone calls that were coming every five minutes.

The exit for Chapel Hill loomed in the distance, and guided by the friendly voice of the navigator, Raphael left the interstate and travelled where directed. Even under the cloak of darkness, it wasn't hard to tell that the neighborhood was affluent and that if he were to settle in North Carolina, this would be the kind of neighborhood where he'd set up domicile.

Raphael slowed then made a left turn onto a long winding road. He crawled down the street until the guide announced that he was at his destination. Lights out, Raphael got out of the car and walked up the circular driveway. Halfway up he jumped, startled by the flood of lights that were triggered by the motion sensor as he passed by.

Pressing his way forward, Raphael descended the few steps to the porch, looked around, and rang the doorbell. Perspiration formed around his hairline as he waited for someone to answer the door.

Someone peered through the peephole. His body tense, Raphael continued to wait patiently. Finally the door opened and Brenda stared back at him, still wearing the black pantsuit she had on at the hospital.

“Raphael?” Brenda said coolly. “What are you doing here? Has something happened to Afrika?”

“No, to your last question,” Raphael replied. “Look, may I come in?”

“Where is Mimi? Is she with you?”

“No, Mimi isn't with me.”

Brenda hesitated and looked at Raphael with a different set of eyes. “Raphael, I don't think this is a good idea—you coming to my home. I don't know what's on your agenda, but now is not the
time. I'm sorry about Afrika, and after this afternoon's reveal, I'm not up for any conversation.”

“Just for a minute. That's all I need,” Raphael insisted.

Brenda sighed, looked at Raphael with a question mark on her face, and pulled the door open. “Only for a moment.” She moved aside and let Raphael come in.

Raphael walked inside and followed Brenda to the family room by way of the foyer. He wasn't sure why he was there, but maybe, just maybe he hoped to find Victor holed up in a corner. The gun was still in the car, and if Victor was in the house, the only thing Raphael could do was have words with him. He jerked his body when Beyonce rubbed up against his leg as she came out of nowhere and jumped on the sofa, ready to protect the woman of the house should it be necessary.

Raphael's eyes roamed as he took in the splendor of the Christiansons' home that was picture-perfect and immaculate. He sensed Brenda's agitation, and turned his attention to her before his minute was up.

“Does Mimi know you're here?” Brenda asked before Raphael had a chance to state his case. She continued to stand with a demure look on her face without extending Raphael an offer to sit, although they were in the family room.

“No.”

“So why are you here?”

“I thought…”

“You thought you'd find Victor here?” Brenda finished Raphael's sentence. “He's not here, and I've not seen him. And what were you planning to do if he was? Kill him?” Brenda's eyes dropped to Raphael's body, searching with her eyes.

Raphael threw his hands in the air with Brenda following his every move.
I'm suspect,
Raphael thought;
she thinks I might have a
weapon.
“Brenda, I don't know what I thought. Yes, maybe I thought I would find your husband here and maybe get him to go to the police so he could own up to what he'd done to Afrika.”

“How do you think you could've done that when the police haven't been successful in doing so? But if you want to know the truth, Raphael, I believe Victor is holed up in some rat hole with one of his ho's. He has many.” Brenda's face relaxed. She sat down on the sofa next to where Beyonce was perched and directed Raphael with her hand to sit in the chair opposite of where she sat.

“Victor has a reputation in this town. I hear the rumors. Even before Mimi told me what Victor had done to her all those years ago, I was only two steps from walking out the door. I shouldn't have married Victor; Mimi warned me about his womanizing years ago, but I just had to have him. I thought I was in love. Victor was a good-looking man and he wanted me, only I wasn't the only one he wanted. The marriage was good for a time—the best part was the birth of my babies, Asia and Trevor. I can't say exactly when, but things began to fall apart…sour, but he wouldn't let me go.”

“Why is that?”

“Because Victor had a good thing with me. He wouldn't have made it as far as he did if my family hadn't intervened. Everyone knows that Victor is spoiled rotten to the core, and it's my practice that has given us the lifestyle we've become accustomed to. But I would have traded the lifestyle for real happiness in a New York second. I do believe Victor did…no, he does love me, although the womanizing part of him is so seeped into his soul, he can't give it up—like a smoker who has to have his nicotine.”

“I'm glad we had this conversation, Brenda. I was an angry man when I came here tonight; still am if I'm truthful about it. And you guessed right, I wanted to do bodily harm. Like Mimi said,
our daughter is going to live, although she may be paralyzed. I feel rather foolish, sitting in your house with contempt in my heart. I hope you can forgive me for barging in like this.”

For the first time since Raphael entered the house, Brenda smiled. “Mimi is fortunate to have you in her life.”

“She is the love of my life. And although every day hasn't been a bowl of cherries, I will tell you that even though I heard some very disheartening truths today, I love Mimi as much as I did the first day I met her—maybe even more. To hear that Afrika wasn't my biological child hurt me to the core and I wanted someone to pay.”

“We'll get through this.”

“Thanks, Brenda. I'm in real trouble. This is Mimi now. She's been calling me for the last two hours. I better answer this call before I don't have a place to sleep tonight.”

“You best.”

“Hey, Mimi,” Raphael said in a low voice of surrender.

He listened while she chewed him out, talking about how he just up and left, not answering her phone calls, acting like everything was all her fault, and how he needed to man-up and be the father and husband he was supposed to be. And if he was going to continue to act the way he'd been doing for the last couple of days, he should have stayed his behind in Germany.

“You're perfectly right, baby,” Raphael conceded. “I'm at Brenda's.” There was a long pause—no instant reply. “I thought I'd find Victor here, but he's nowhere to be found. I'm leaving now and will be at the hospital in an hour.” Still no answer.

“I love you.” The line went dead on the other end.

Raphael looked at Brenda and curled up his lips. “I better go. Mimi isn't too happy with me right now, and my daughter probably isn't either. One thing you said, Brenda, is true. We will get through
this. I'll see myself out.” Raphael got up and headed for the door but turned around and looked at Brenda still sitting on the couch. “Thank you.”

“W
E HEARD EVERYTHING
,” A
SIA SAID AS SHE AND
T
REVOR APPEARED
in the room and sat on the couch next to Brenda. Asia picked up Beyonce and put her in her lap. “You all right, Mom?” Asia asked, laying her head on Brenda's shoulder.