Read Dear Drama Online

Authors: Braya Spice

Dear Drama (17 page)

“I called you a couple times today and even texted you,” he said.
“I'm sorry. I was so busy today.”
“Really? What did you do?”
I huffed out a deep breath into the phone. “Went to work, school, picked up my daughter from school, cooked dinner.”
“Yeah? What did you make?”
I rolled my eyes. He was not going to let me get off this phone. “Chicken fingers,” I told him, leaving everything else out.
“Oh, that sounds good. I went out to eat at P.F. Chang's.”
“Really?” I said, not interested. I looked at the clock on the wall. It was eight thirty-five.
Sierra still had the TV on, on full blast. Just as I was about to tell her to turn it off, I heard a bang. It sounded like wood cracking. I saw that somebody had kicked my living room door in!
I jumped to my feet and screamed as a man rushed up in my house, and I screamed even louder when I realized that the man was Bryce.
“Bryce, what the fuck is wrong with you?” I backed up fearfully.
He rushed up to me and was so close, I had to back up more, until I felt the bottom rim of the couch against my ankles. I could hear Andre yelling my name on the phone.
Bryce snatched the phone out of my hand before I could say anything more to him. I closed my eyes briefly as he hung up and tossed the phone.
“Real talk. You got something to tell me?”
“What are you talking about?” I screamed. Looking at my exploded door, I hoped Sierra would stay in her room. I eased over so he wasn't so in my face. And as soon as I had a foot of separation between us, my instincts told me to run.
He stepped to me swiftly, as if sensing my impending flight, and before I could move again, he hauled off and slapped me upside my mouth. His ring tore through my skin. I fell to the floor and screamed.
“Bitch, I heard you was a man!”
“What?” I held my bleeding mouth.
He snatched me by my hair so I was now standing. I struggled against him. “Please don't hurt me,” I begged.
“Bitch, I'm gonna kill you if what I heard is true.”
“I'm not a man.”
I knew there was no chance that I'd be able to fight this six-foot-four man, and I couldn't get to the phone, because he wouldn't let go of my neck. I tried to stay as still as possible, out of fear that any resistance on my part would cause him to hurt me. I prayed,
Please, God, don't let Sierra come in here and see this.
And I even prayed that Andre would come help me.
I almost peed on myself when another dude came through the door.
What are they going to do to me?
I thought. I feared that they would rape me or even kill me.
This dude peered at me, looked me up and down, all over my face and body, as if he was trying to figure out something.
Bryce was sweating and his eyes were searing into mine when he whispered, “Well, are you gonna come clean, bitch, or what?” Damn! This was not the man I had become acquainted with over the past two months. He was like a completely different person.
“I'm not a man.”
He punched me in my stomach like I was a man. I moaned inwardly and slumped over a bit. The punch he gave me caused me to have a hard as hell time breathing. His hands went back to my neck. And he started choking me again.
I sobbed silently. I should have never invited him to my home. I called out to God again.
Please get me out of this.
His friend continued to look at me up and down.
“Well, are you going to show me this shit ain't true or what, Allure? 'Cause I'm really starting to feel like it's true each fucking second that goes by.”
“I have a daughter!”
“That don't mean shit. You probably lied about that shit.”
His hold tightened.
Why would he think some shit like this? That I was a man? It was all too crazy to digest. But the hateful look on his face told me that he really felt it was true.
“Now, I'm gonna ask you one more time.”
“I swear—”
“Man, fuck this shit.”
He punched me again, hit my nose. I felt blood gush out of it. I hit the floor again. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
“Get her legs, Ace!”
I lay helpless as his friend grabbed my legs and Bryce straddled me and ripped my shirt to shreds and pulled my bra off of my titties. For a moment Bryce looked like he was convinced, and a look of relief and guilt washed over his face, but his friend said, “That don't mean shit. Them hormones make they titties big. Check to see if she got a pussy, man.”
Bryce had that crazy look in his eyes again. He held my arms in a death lock, so tight I thought some bones were gonna break. Then his friend pulled off my sweats and my panties.
“Police! Get your fucking hands up! Get your fucking hands up!”
It was Andre, with his gun drawn. Two more cops raced into the house.
Andre said, “Place your hands on your head. Lace your fingers. Get on your knees!”
I pulled my pants and bra back on and turned over on my stomach and sobbed uncontrollably.
I heard the cuffs being snapped on their wrists and their footsteps as they left my house. But I wouldn't look. I wrapped the shreds of my shirt around me, and I stayed rooted in the spot I was in.
Soon a blanket was thrown over me. I looked up and made eye contact with Andre.
Chapter 22
Thank God that I had answered when Andre called and that he'd come to my rescue.
Talk about a crazy-ass night. I was attacked by a man I was a day away from giving my pussy to. He had beat my ass and could have possibly killed me. Who would have thought he would be the type of man who could do some shit like that? But then I realized that two months was not enough time to know what type of man Bryce was. And I still had not been able to figure out where he got the crazy notion that I was a man. It was the craziest shit I had ever heard. I knew that I would drive myself crazy trying to figure it out. So I left it alone and thanked God that Sierra didn't see any of that. Part of the reason was that I let her keep the TV on in her room, which offset the noise in the living room.
That night I called my sister and my mom. They both rushed over. My mother went to the hospital with me, and my sister waited at home with Sierra.
Andre came to my hospital bed and took a statement from me. It felt awkward to tell him that I was seeing Bryce. But he kept all judgments off of his face and jotted everything down. He had on regular clothes. I assumed that was because he had been at home and had just rushed out to save me.
“Are you sure you're going to be okay, Allure?” It was Andre. Again I thought,
What a relief that he came.
I nodded. “I think so.” I grimaced because it was painful to talk. “Andre?”
He turned back around and faced me.
I took a deep breath. “Are you?”
He slipped a hand under my chin. “Mad?”
I nodded again and tried to turn away. I knew I looked ugly as hell. He held my chin firmly.
“No. Me and you didn't have a commitment. So as much as I would like to be angry, I don't have a right to. But I have to admit, I am a little jealous.”
I stared into his light brown eyes and offered the best smile I could from the hospital bed. Old boy had fractured my nose, busted my lip, and my right eye was swollen shut. And I had to get stitches near my mouth, where his ring cut me.
“The nerve of him, treating a woman like you that way.”
I touched my swollen lip, and my eyes teared up again.
“Don't worry about that. It will heal in no time.” He sighed. “Well, I need to go and file this report. I'm going to also file for an emergency restraining order.”
“Right.”
“I will be calling you soon, most definitely.”
“Thank you, Andre.”
“Take care, Allure.”
He gave one last wave before walking out of the room.
After my mother made it in to see me and asked her twenty-one questions about what happened to me and told me that I should have taken her advice and remained alone, I dozed off from the sedatives without answering a single one.
My stay at the hospital was three days long. I went home, but I didn't feel comfortable there anymore. I felt so violated. And for the first week, until I was able to adjust, either Kendra, my sister, or Creole spent the night. During this time I did a lot of talking on the phone to Andre.
It took about two weeks for the bruises to clear up. One scar remained, though. It would be a constant reminder of that night. Bryce ended up getting a year in prison for the assault, and the judge placed restraining order on him. He was not permitted to call me or come within one hundred feet of me. It was so crazy. I really thought he was a nice guy, but I didn't know him at all.
While I was healing, Andre and I got closer. One night in particular we had been on the phone for so damn long that my ear was packed with sweat. We had been talking for three hours straight.
“Are you bored yet?” I asked him. I was curled up on my couch, while Sierra was watching TV.
“I don't get bored talking to you, Allure.”
“You know what? I don't either. You're a very interesting person, Andre.” I wished I had given him a chance and had not got so caught up in Bryce. For me, Andre was as safe as they came. He was a police officer, for God's sake. Who could be more trustworthy?
When I heard a beep, I clicked over so I could hear my other line. “Hello?”
“Allure, don't hang up. This is Bryce.”
My heart started pounding. How was he able to call me from prison? I thought. And why did he want to?
Before I could say anything, he said, “Listen, baby. I had my sister call you and place us on three-way. Just give me thirty seconds. I'm so sorry for what I did to you. And I'm paying for it with a year in prison. I deserve it for putting my hands on you. But it seems I had been given some misinformation. I have a brother. His name is Cedric. He works for the gas company as a construction worker. Anyway, the day we were texting each other back and forth, before I popped up at your crib, we were having a casual conversation, and I told him that I was seeing this young
tenda
named Allure. Well, he said that his boy Lavante used to fuck with someone named Allure and that you were bad news.”
I gasped when he said Lavante's name.
“So naturally I was curious as to what it was that made you bad news. Because, like I said, I really liked you. And I wanted to make sure I wasn't wasting my time, in case you were a rat, a gold digger, and if that being the case I needed to keep it moving”
My heart started pounding fast.
“Well, that's when Lavante got on the phone and said that you were really a man.”
I exhaled deeply. That piece of shit, that muthafucka was still trying to wreak havoc in my life. Maybe to him it was just a joke, a way for him to hate. But that shit could have got me killed. After all this time I couldn't believe he would say such a lie about me. I mean, it wasn't like I had done him wrong, and as a result, we broke up. He had misled me, hurt me, and I had moved on. How could he be so bitter about that and spread lies about me?
“Allure, is it possible that when I get out of here that we can—”
“No. But I do accept your apology.”
“It's just that. Look, I flipped out because I was raped by my father when I was like ten. So the thought that I had been kissing and touching a man pretending to be a woman enraged me.”
I wondered if it would have come out, this wee bit of information, if I had dated him longer. Or would it have continued to be a skeleton in his closet? And with him being damaged about it, what type of boyfriend would he have been to me? I was also confused. Was he a man who thought he had been tricked and reacted, or was he just a violent man? Then I figured there was no need to ponder this. He was something that didn't happen. And since things turned out the way they did, it wasn't meant to happen, either.
He could have simply asked me the truth, and if I had deceived him and had really been a man, he would have had the right to whip my ass. And I couldn't help but feel that he really was a broken man with deep issues, someone I didn't need in my life, so I was happy that things happened the way they did. Although I didn't enjoy the ass whipping, the truth had been revealed. Lavante was a lying-ass, hating-ass dick. And I knew he would have his day one day.
“Look, I don't mean to be insensitive, but you seem to have a lot of issues you may have not dealt with yet.”
“Yeah. I'm thinking about getting counseling.”
“You know what? I really think you should. You are a handsome and cool man. I really liked you and enjoyed being around you. But you ain't my problem to solve. And the fact of the matter is you assaulted me. I wouldn't be able to look at you in the same way. So the answer is no. Good luck.”
Before I gave him a chance to respond, I hung up the phone. Maybe I was harsh, but that was the kindest I could be to him after what he did to me.
I had completely forgotten that Andre was on the other line. But I was too shaken up by what I had just learned to call him back.
I started spending more time with Andre. The weekend after I got that crazy phone call from Bryce, Andre took me on a date to the Santa Monica Pier. He had just got off work and came in his uniform. I knew it was a bit shallow of me to not give him as much of a chance in the beginning as I gave Bryce, because I was more attracted to Bryce. I was still a little grossed out by all the sweating, but Andre seemed like a nice guy. Maybe he had some type of condition that caused him to sweat. He always carried a small towel to clean his face.
As we walked and talked, he seemed to be so confused about the fact that I was still single. “So tell me this, Allure. Why is a woman like you on the market?”
Let's see,
I thought.
Because the men that I have been with weren't shit. First, there was Greg, a psychopath. Then there was little dick Lavante. Let's get to James.... I don't know what to make of his ass. Then Bryce ... That situation was another disaster. I can't catch a break for shit.
But I simply replied, “Just haven't found the right person yet.”
“Are the pickings that slim?” he asked me as we walked.
“Hell, yes. Think about it. A large number of black men are incarcerated, and what is left out there is gay or with nonblack women, or they are bum types of dudes. The cards seem to be stacked up against us. So what's a black woman to do?”
He laughed. “Don't believe the hype. There are plenty of good brothas.”
I certainly hoped so. And I hoped Andre was one of them.
As we walked, people standing near and walking past stared at us. I had never gone anywhere with a man in blue. I felt special. Like I got a cop on me.
“You seem like you've been through a lot, Allure. I get that.” He sat on a bench, then grasped my hand and pulled me down to sit on his lap.
Shit.
I had learned one thing. It was not to share my past with a man. So I was wondering how I had let on about my troubles. I asked in a saucy manner, “How you figure that?”
He chuckled. “When you smile, Miss Feisty, it's not full. It tightens up. And I don't know.... There's a look you give. You look depressed.”
I looked away as he wiped a thick layer of sweat off of his face.
“You're not supposed to talk about your past relationships,” I said. But I was contradicting myself, because basically my tears confirmed his statement. “I been through some stuff that has changed me, changed my whole outlook, took away a little of my joy. That stuff doesn't allow me to feel as good as I can.”
“Why?”
“Because I can't find a man to love me. Truly love me. Treat me right. To have that feeling, just know they really want to be there. For all the right reasons. I can't find it.”
“Find what?”
“A soul to touch mine, be in sync with me, lift my daughter's heavy ass out the car when she falls asleep, unclog the sink when it gets stopped up, and really, really look at me and love at least ninety-five percent of me. Someone who will be decent to me. Who wants to grow with me and be there as much as I wanted him to. That's what I can't find. And it seems like such a minor thing that I'm asking for. Pure, wholesome, unconditional love.”

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