WHEN Brena closes the door, she hears a scream. With her hand placed over her chest, her back against the door, the anger rooted in the outcry startles her.
"Damn it!" Steven cries out, kicking the wooden chair aggressively.
Justine sports a sympathetic look on her face as she stares directly at Brena. Aaron and Avery were too busy bickering so they didn't hear anything but their voices. Brena uses her sleeves to dry her tears and walks past them without making eye contact.
Lillian's eyes are starting to shut close until Brena sits next to her, tapping her arm. Lillian flinches and turns to see who had the audacity to touch her.
"That was too fast. Are you alright?" Lillian says, surprisingly.
"He has kids Lillian." Jealousy and pain weaken Brena's voice. "Two of them. The little girl is 13 and the boy is 16."
Lillian's brows fall with pity. "Oh wow...this just took a different turn."
"Ya think? God!" Brena exhales deeply, raking her hands through her curls. "Lillian, am I selfish for being upset?"
"No, you're not. You need time just like the rest of us."
"Yeah..." Brena trails off, drying her tears. "Where do you want to go next?"
"My school. I need to give them the doctor's note and other documents. You wanna come with me?"
"Shit. I have to get in touch with mine too." Brena groans, tiredly. "Desmond just got back this morning and we need to catch up so I can't. Sorry." She pouts.
"You two are so cute." Lillian says in awe. "Fine. I'll drop you off."
"What about Damien?" Brena asks as they stand up.
"He's fine. I told him that I needed space."
Brena presses the elevator button and shifts her gaze to Lillian. "But y'all are texting at least right?"
"Here and there." Lillian gestures her hand, bending it sideways. "I'm not really up for long conversations."
They step into the elevator and there's already a nurse inside. The same one Lillian stopped earlier. Lillian's heart races apprehensively, hoping that the nurse wouldn't utter anything about her previous question.
"Oh hey." She acknowledges Lillian's presence. "What floor?"
"Hey." Lillian responds with a stiff smile. "1st please."
Brena and Lillian both say thank you as the doors slowly slide shut.
"Like I was saying LJ. I feel you on that but don't completely ghost him. You know? He's been really sweet throughout this whole thing." Brena replies.
Nodding in agreement as they go downstairs, Brena's words plant a guilty seed in Lillian's mind. She understood that not talking to Damien would portray her as ungrateful. Unfortunately for him and her, the demons that live inside of her weren't ready to be stopped just yet. In the car, Brena tells Lillian exactly what was said between her and Steven. Lillian advises her to talk to him again when the dust settles instead of completely writing off the idea of rebuilding their relationship.
Brena in return, pleads with Lillian to try and get some sleep when she gets home. The tiredness was physically scarring Lillian's face and it was difficult for Brena to disregard it. Throughout the drive home, Brena kept staring at Lillian. She has never seen her look so unkempt and it wasn't appealing either. It was evident that something was wrong but Brena was avoiding any unnecessary arguments.
Lillian drops Brena back at Desmond's condominium and drives to her school to submit what they required her to bring in. It was 11:30 am and the sun was in it's rightful position in the sky, allowing its glorious beams to cascade down on the streets of Midtown Manhattan. Desmond is watching an episode of Downtown Abbey when he hears the locks. After closing the door, Brena bends down to remove her sneakers off her feet and sets them to the side near the welcome mat.
Desmond picks up the remote to reduce the volume and gazes at the wall-clock hanging above the television. "Back so soon?" He questions stunningly.
Brena throws the key on top of the glass center table. "Yup." She answers grimly.
"Did everything go well?" Desmond's eyes follow her suspiciously, while scooting over as she sits down beside him.
"No." She sighs, folding her feet over each other. "I don't want to talk about that right now. Tell me about Tokyo and your meeting."
"Okay but first," He starts to say, reaching for the small box on top of the glass side table.
The box is dressed in a red gift wrapper and a thin golden bow tied on top of it. "Open this." He instructs her in a soft tone.
"Desmond.." Brena gasps, grabbing the box from him. "You got me a present?" She questions excitedly.
Brena keeps staring at Desmond with happiness twinkling in her eyes as she opens it. The bow slides off easily then she proceeds to rip off the red wrapper. Desmond rubs his hands together nervously when the gift is revealed.
With his brows arched, Desmond asks, "do you like it?"
"It's pretty." Brena replies, lifting up the object midair, examining it. "What is it?"
"It's called an omamori. It means to protect in Japanese and I got it for you because I know how spiritual you are." Desmond explains.
As Brena's lips curve up delightfully, she coos at his kind act. "Awww."
Desmond let out a small laugh, feeling relieved that she likes it. "I went to this temple in Tokyo and they gave it to me. It's a lucky charm that's meant to drive away evil spirits and to rid you of misfortune."
The omamori is inside a white bag made with brocaded silk. It serves as a covering with beautiful floral designs sewn on it and some Japanese wordings embedded on it including the name of the temple Desmond purchased it from. Inside of it is a piece of wood with a prayer and a white strap attached to it, making it easy for the owner to attach it anywhere.
Brena is in love with the reason behind the gift. It showed her how attentive Desmond is and it made her fall for him even more. Victoria always told her, it was the littlest things that mattered. Having someone who respects her spiritual life was very important to her. This feeling of being treated with tender love and care was a foreign one.
She snuggles in and squeezes Desmond into a tight hug. Her breathing slows down when his hands run down her back smoothly causing her body to melt into his. His cologne invades her nostrils as they detangle from their embrace, leaving Brena feeling at peace with a satisfied smile dancing on her lips.
"Desmond, this was so thoughtful of you." She looks down at the charm. "And it's beautiful. I love it. Shit, I already feel charmed. Thank you so much."
"So happy you like it." He kisses the top of her left hand.
"Uh..excuse me. I said love." She emphasizes. "I love it. I'm gonna add it to my keychain."
Desmond laughs. "It's yours to keep so you can do anything you want with it."
Desmond could look at Brena's smile all day. As she inserts the lucky charm around her keychain, excitement rushes through his veins. Back in Tokyo, he contemplated on what to get as a gift for Brena. He didn't want to overwhelm her but he wanted something substantial and charming like his personality. The smile on her gorgeous face helps the butterflies in the pit of his stomach escape.
"Did you get one for yourself?"
Desmond nods. "I did. I kept it in my wallet."
"Gotchu." Brena replies.
"So? What's been going on?" He asks, putting his arms over her shoulders.
"Are you gonna be busy today?"
"No. It's my day off and I'm spending it with you." He says in a deep tone, kissing the side of her head.
Brena blushes. "Sounds like a perfect day to me. I'll pour you a glass of wine though because the story is gonna make your head hurt. It sure hurt mine."
"Oh boy." Desmond sighs, letting go of her as she stands up.
. . . .
On the Upper-West side, Victoria pushes open the steel door with the transparent blue NYPD logo in front of it. She's clinging tightly to her brown Fendi print handbag, walking into the police precinct with her head down. Victoria is accompanied by Alisha, her attorney. They stop by the front desk after being asked by an officer behind the bulletproof glass window, to slide their ID through the metal tray beneath it. Once the officer cross checks their identity, he sends them in.
While they sit, a short man with a golden brown complexion, long dark hair and a black mole on top of his upper lip is being dragged in by police officers. Fighting to break free, the two officers take him to the booking room. Victoria kills time by looking around the office. She notices that there are 3 vertical filing cabinets, a black printing machine that's resting against the wall that has a black and white poster. It reads, train hard, bleed less.
Victoria's phone rings, distracting her momentarily. "Hello?" She says, answering the call.
"Ms.Phillips, I found out who it was." The male voice on the receiving end says.
Being in the spotlight comes with its perks and for Victoria, she had a footing in the crazed media world. Somethings she couldn't control but when money is involved, the world is her oyster. After she saw the paparazzi snooping for information at the hospital, she called up one of her trustee subjects, Rodney, a reporter from Channel 7, to fish out the person that tipped the press about her whereabouts.
"It was a woman. Her name is Justine Coleman. She called the station and put them on about the hospital."
Victoria's lips part slightly in shock as he spoke. She and Justine haven't met in person but she has seen pictures of her on Steven's phone. It wasn't adding up why Justine would disclose her privacy so easily. She didn't even know the woman personally, which makes this news very confusing. So instead of anger fogging her emotions, Victoria takes a new interest in Justine and her intention to speak with Steven builds because gossip wasn't an act she ever took pleasure in partaking in.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Victoria responds to the Good Samaritan. "Thank you, Rodney. I knew I could count on you."
"Any time, Ms.Phillips. As long as you keep the cash flowing, I'll get you whatever you need. You have a good day now."
Victoria chuckles. "You too sweetie. Bye-bye."
She presses the red button and turns to Alisha. "Can you believe that Justine, you know, Steven's wife, was the one that told the press?" Victoria sputters. "Why in God's name did she think it was okay to do such a thing?" She asks perplexingly.
"She could be jealous." Alisha laughs.
Alisha is a 43 year old Jamaican-American criminal defense attorney based in New York City. She is classified as one of the best in her field and whenever her name is mentioned in a case or in court, the opposing counsel starts to panic because of her competitive, fiery attitude. The woman has never lost a case throughout the years of her career.
Dipped in creamy dark-brown skin, Alisha is 5'11 feet tall and has a black pixie cut. She's fit yet slim with an oval shaped face, thin brows, full lips, round amber eyes and a small narrow nose. Alisha was an intellectual force to be reckoned with and a long time friend of Victoria's.
"Of me?" Victoria scrunches up her face in disbelief. "Now, that's just silly." She waves her off, crossing her legs.
"Yes of you and the fact that you're extremely close to her husband, it makes perfect sense to me." Alisha says, typing on her phone, sending out an email.
Tapping her chin with her index finger, Victoria considers Alisha's theory. "You could be right."
A short, chubby male police officer walks up to them as they discuss amongst themselves. "Ma'am? They're ready to see you but it's going to be in a more quiet room."
Victoria lightly fluffs out her kinky curls, then picks up her handbag. She raises up to her feet at the same time as Alisha and straightens out her nude colored skirt. Alisha is wearing a grey pant suit paired with a grey blazer worn over a white long sleeve shirt. Her black block heel supports Victoria's brown Alexander McQueen pumps as they strut down the hallway making loud clicking noise.
When they enter the blue isolated room, detective Jacobi and his partner, Lisa, are already seated, with their backs facing the door, waiting patiently. The detective turns his head to the door when it opens.
"Welcome, Ms.Philips. I'm detective Jacobi Ronalds." He politely introduces himself, stretching forth his hand for a handshake.
"I know you." Victoria replies, accepting shaking his hand. "You've been on my case from day one."
"Indeed." He simply nods. "You both can sit down. This is my partner, Lisa Banks."
"Good-afternoon Ms.Phillips." Lisa says.
Victoria gives a small smile. "Good-afternoon."
"Alisha Lewis." Jacobi shakes her hand. "I hope you're not gonna give me any trouble with this one."
Alisha smirks amusingly. "I don't know Ronalds, we'll see."
"Always a pleasure counselor."
As Jacobi flips Victoria's file open, Lisa picks up a pen and starts jotting. "Ms.Phillips, two years ago on the 7th of January, you were reported dead on the scene of a car accident. Please tell us in detail what happened that night."
Glancing over to Alisha, anxiety draws its thin line on Victoria's slightly sweaty forehead. Alisha gives her an encouraging nod, granting her permission to speak. Victoria takes a deep breath and looks up at the detectives with her hands intertwined.
The troubling memories she tucked away in the dark, begin to rattle inside her mind. These rememberings prepare to make their verbal debut as Victoria tells the tale of how she escaped from the hands of the devil, named Kevin James.
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12.30.2020