The Trophy Wife Page 9

  She pulled off her sweatpants and T-shirt and stepped into her shower. Thoughts of Kalil filled her mind as she lathered her body. Why can’t I be with a man like him? she thought as her own touch sent goose bumps down her spine. A smile spread across her face as she thought about the next time she would see him. He’d written his number down for her so that she would be able to contact him at all times, and she couldn’t wait until the next time that she saw him.

  She finished her shower and stepped out onto the cold tile floor. She noticed that her purse was lying on the bed with the contents spilling out onto the bedspread, and Kalil’s number was in plain view. She quickly grabbed it and taped it underneath one of the dresser drawers.

  Just as she placed the drawer back on track, a voice rang out behind her.

  “Where have you been?”

  London jumped at the sound of her husband’s voice and the smile on her face was quickly replaced with a look of fear, as she attempted to discreetly close the drawer.

  “Where the fuck have you been, London?” he repeated calmly as he sat back on the bed and awaited her response.

  “Jake, you startled me. What are you doing home? I wasn’t expecting you until later tonight. I was going to surprise you with dinner,” she lied, attempting to change the subject and avoid answering his question.

  “I caught an early flight home. I’ve been here since this morning. Now I’m going to ask you again—where have you been?” His tone became a bit harsher and he walked up to her and pinned her against the bedroom wall.

  London’s heart raced as she thought about the beating that was to come. “I just went out for a while. I wanted to find a good restaurant to buy dinner for tonight. I was lonely while you were away. I just stepped out to get some fresh air, that’s all.”

  Jake snatched the towel from her body and wrapped one hand around her tiny throat as he forcefully shoved his other hand up her vagina.

  “Oww! Jake, please . . . you’re hurting me,” she whispered as she tried to stand on her tiptoes to ease the pressure from his roaming fingers.

  “Who were you with?” he asked as he probed her insides roughly. “I can tell you were with someone. My pussy feels different.”

  “Jake, please, I wasn’t, I swear to you,” she whispered.

  His grip intensified around her neck as he purposely cut off her oxygen supply. He smiled as he watched her turn blue in the face. “You can’t breathe, can you?” A demented smile spread across his face.

  She clawed at his hand and kicked violently to get free from his hold, but he shoved her head against the wall and released her body, letting her crumple to the floor beneath his feet. She gasped for air gratefully as oxygen began to enter her lungs.

  He looked at his hand, which was now covered in London’s blood. “Go clean yourself up. I have a business meeting tonight,” he barked as he left the room.

  London cried so hard that no sound came out. She felt between her legs as blood leaked from her insides. Her womb hurt so badly that she could barely stand. She cringed in pain, closing her eyes and rocking back and forth. What was I thinking? He’s never going to let me go. He’ll kill me before he sees me with another man. I’m trapped here.

  She lay on the floor for almost an hour before she finally gathered enough strength to move. She couldn’t stop the river of tears that flowed from her eyes as she made her way into the bathroom.

  Before she’d met Kalil, she would have never taken the beating from her husband so personally. But now that she knew what it felt like to be loved, she wanted more. She showered again and washed away the dried-up blood from her thighs. She let the water soothe the raw skin around her neck. Why does he treat me like this?

  Just as she was about to turn off the water, the shower curtain opened and her husband stepped in with her. She cringed at the thought of what he might do to her.

  “I’m sorry, London,” he stated as he pressed his body against hers. “Why do you make me hurt you like this? I just want you to be faithful.” He bent her over.

  When she felt him enter her from behind, she said, “Jake, please don’t. I don’t think my body can take that right now.”

  He ignored her and began to pump in and out of her slowly with his long thickness. London bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself from crying out. It hurt badly from the damage that he’d done earlier, but she didn’t want to give him a reason to harm her again, so she took it quietly and prayed for it to be over quickly. Silent tears stained her cheeks as she brought her husband to an orgasm.

  When he was finished he smacked her ass lightly and kissed the back of her neck. “Get dressed,” he told her. “We have somewhere to be in an hour.”

  London waited for him to leave the room so that she could scrub his scent off her body. She then stepped out and entered her bedroom. A long black Christian Dior dress was placed neatly on the bed with a set of four-karat chandelier diamond earrings and matching tennis bracelet on top. She dried her sore body and stepped into the dress. As she looked in the full-length mirror, even she had to admit that the dress was beautiful. It fit her body as if it had been custom-made just for her.

  “I hope you like it,” Jake said as he appeared in the doorway.

  London continued to look in the mirror as she applied the jewelry. She’d grown accustomed to him buying her things, but she wanted love. And in her heart she knew that Jake could never give her that. To him, she was just a possession, another pretty thing that he owned. She was nothing more than his trophy wife. He wanted to have her on his arm in public, but in the privacy of their home he mistreated and abused her.

  “Well, do you like it?” he asked again.

  London couldn’t believe he was acting so casually after just choking her out less than two hours ago. His personality was like night and day, and she was beginning to fear him more and more.

  “Of course,” she replied with a phony smile. “Thank you.”

  She applied a mineral powder to her face and neck to cover up the traces of their fight and then followed her husband out the door and into the limo that was waiting to take them to dinner.

  London was in a daze as she sat at the dinner table. All she could think of was Kalil. She needed him, and she couldn’t wait to get back to her dance class so that she could see him again.

  “London, your dress is gorgeous. Is it Dior?” Tracy Reynolds asked.

  Tracy Reynolds was the wife of one of Jake’s potential business partners, and Jake had made it clear to London that she was to befriend her. “Friendly wives produce friendly business,” he’d told her.

  “London dear, don’t be rude. Answer the question.” Jake gave London a look that only she could interpret.

  “I’m sorry, Tracy. I have so much on my mind. I was listening to the music and became lost in my own thoughts.” London smiled graciously.

  “Girl, tell me about it. These old love songs will make you think about how lucky we are to have these wonderful men in our lives.”

  London just nodded her head in agreement as her thoughts drifted back to Kalil. “Excuse me,” she stated abruptly as she stood from the table.

  Jake caught her by the wrist and yanked her indiscreetly, halting her from leaving.

  “I’ll be right back, honey. I’m just going to the ladies’ room,” she said and then walked away.

  “I think I may join her,” Tracy stated a minute later. “This will give you men time to discuss what you came here to discuss. Then maybe we can have some real fun and hit that dance floor.”

  London lifted her dress and sat on the toilet seat to find that she had blood in her panties. She knew it wasn’t her period, which wasn’t due for another three weeks. It must’ve been from the encounter she’d had with Jake earlier. She pulled toilet tissue from the roll and placed it in her panties. She didn’t know why she was bleeding, and she hoped that Jake hadn’t caused her any serious damage. Cramp-like pains began to shoot through her womb, and she doubled over in pain. Oh my G
od, what’s wrong with me?

  London got up and exited the stall. She hadn’t stepped two feet before she was hit with another pain. She gripped the sink tightly as she held her stomach. Her insides ached, and all she really wanted to do was run and be with Kalil. She was definitely not in the mood to entertain Jake’s friends.

  Jake wanted her to be this beautiful prize for him to display for the world, bringing her to these dinners so that she could complement the deals that he brokered. He knew that she was eye candy and that every man that he flaunted her in front of would secretly wish that she belonged to them. She held her breath as another sharp pain shot through her abdomen.

  Tracy opened the bathroom door. “London, are you okay?”

  London immediately straightened up and erased the look of pain from her face. “I’m fine,” she replied quickly as she turned on the faucet to wash her hands.

  Tracy noticed that London couldn’t keep her hands still. “Are you sure? You’re shaking.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “London, you’re not fine. What’s wrong?”

  London didn’t answer her. She went into her purse and took her mineral powder out to apply more to her face and neck.

  Tracy looked closer as she noticed what London was trying to hide. In the darkened atmosphere of the restaurant she couldn’t see it, but in the brightly-lit bathroom she could clearly see the red bruises all over London’s neck. She turned London’s face toward her. “Who did that to you?”

  “Nobody. I just break out in rashes sometimes. It’s nothing,” she said quickly. Her words stumbled out nervously, but confidently, as if she had rehearsed what to say if anyone asked her.

  “London, that’s not a rash, those are handprints. Did Jake do this to you? Does he hit you?” Tracy asked loudly.

  “Aghh!” London said as another pain ripped through her petite frame.

  “That’s it. I’m going to get help.”

  “Wait, no! You can’t!” London cried.

  “No man has the right to hurt you like that,” Tracy whispered.

  “I know, I know. Please, Tracy, you can’t tell anyone about this. Please promise me that you won’t say anything.”

  “Okay, London, but if you ever need my help, you call me.”

  Tracy pulled out a piece of paper and wrote both her home and cell numbers down on it, and London took the number, knowing she would never use it.

  Tracy helped London straighten herself up, and then they both walked back to the dinner table.

  “What took you ladies so long?” Jake asked.

  “I’m not feeling too well. I’ve been having these ridiculous migraines all day,” Tracy lied.

  London gave her an appreciative look as she took her seat next to Jake.

  Tracy said to her husband, “Is it okay if we call it a night, sweetheart? I feel so exhausted.”

  “Sure. I think Jake and I just about handled everything that we came here to do. It was very nice to meet you, London.” Mr. Reynolds grabbed London’s hand and kissed it sweetly.

  “The pleasure was all mine.”

  Tracy hugged London as if they were old friends and whispered into her ear, “Don’t hesitate to use my number.”

  London was grateful for the kind words, but she knew that she would never call her. Her connection was too close to Jake, and he would kill her if he found out that she’d confided in one of his business partner’s wives.

  Jake and London rode in silence on their way home, until Jake’s cell phone rang. He answered it, and London immediately sensed the mood change in the car. She looked over at Jake. His face turned cold, and his eyebrow dropped in anger as he listened to whatever news he was receiving from the anonymous caller.

  “Of course, I understand,” he stated in a short tone and abruptly ended the phone call.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “What is it?”

  He yelled, “What did you tell Tracy Reynolds?”

  “Nothing,” she replied nervously. “I didn’t tell her anything, I swear.”

  “You lying bitch!” He reached over her and opened the passenger door and tried to push her out of the car. “Get the fuck out of the car, bitch!”

  “No, Jake, stop it! No! Please!” she screamed in fear as she watched the yellow line on the road pass her by at top speed. Her passenger door opened wildly as she tried to reach for it.

  “Bitch, get out!” Jake was foaming at the mouth. “You want to tell my friends that I beat you? Huh?”

  “No! Jake, I swear! Please . . . I love you! Plea-ease!” she sobbed uncontrollably as she struggled to keep her body inside of the vehicle. Luckily for her the car door slammed shut as Jake swerved to avoid a pothole.

  When they reached their home, Jake got out of the car and literally pulled London out of her seat.

  “Jake, please listen to me! I didn’t!” she yelled, hoping that one of her neighbors would hear her. She knew that there was no one around to help her, since they lived in one of the most secluded suburbs of the city and most of the houses were at least a mile apart.

  He pulled her to the back of the house and went into his shed to get a shovel and a flashlight.

  “Jake, please don’t hurt me,” she begged.

  He looked out on his many acres of land and pulled her into the thick trees that nestled behind their house. When they finally stopped walking, he handed her the shovel and said, “Dig!”

  “What?” she asked through her tears.

  He yelled, “Dig, bitch! Dig until I tell you to stop!”

  London reluctantly began to scoop piles of dirt. She dug for what seemed like hours as Jake stood over her and watched. He had a look on his face that could only be described as devilish. God, please don’t let him hurt me, she prayed as she continued to dig through the ground. Her arms burned unbearably and her tears clouded her vision, but she continued to dig because she was afraid of what would happen if she stopped.

  Jake hopped down in the hole with London and grabbed her by the back of her neck as if she were a dog. “See what you drive me to, London? Huh?”

  “I’m sorry,” she replied through tears. She was horrified, quite sure that she’d just dug her own grave. God, please, she prayed. Beg for mercy, that’s the only thing that she could think of doing.

  “Are you trying to ruin me? You want to ruin my reputation?”

  “No! I swear,” she cried.

  “Now it’s your turn to decide if you want to live right and start being a good wife to me or if you want to leave. But this is your exit, London. This is your only way out . . . in this hole. What’s it going to be, London?”

  “I’ll be a good wife, Jake, I will. I will be a good wife.”

  Those words seemed to snap Jake out of his rage. He pulled London close to him and whispered, “I know you will. Ssh, it’s okay.” He held her head close to his chest as she cried uncontrollably. “I love you, London. I wish you would stop making me hurt you.”

  She couldn’t respond. All she felt was pain. Her body throbbed all over, and she could barely keep her eyes open as fatigue took over her body.

  Jake picked her up and carried her back toward the house. He laid her down in the bed and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you,” he stated. He waited for her reply, but was met with silence.

  London sighed deeply and closed her eyes. She couldn’t fight the exhaustion. She embraced the deep sleep as she thought of Kalil, hoping to see him again in her dreams.

  Chapter Nine

  The Lyfe Jennings debut CD lightly pumped out of the stereo as Kalil leaned back on the couch. His leg cocked and his eyes toward the ceiling, the lyrics had him in a daze. The song reminded him of London. He couldn’t stop thinking of her and he hoped to hear from her soon. He’d just returned from walking Jada to school where he was hoping to catch London before her class began. When he didn’t see her, he figured that he would catch up with her later.

  Now he was trying to get his head together as he prepared to g
o to work. I hate working for them rude-ass Italians. Kalil took a deep breath, remembering how he dreaded working for someone else. His pride was bruised working for someone else. He had been a hustler as far back as he could remember. He had always been his own boss.

  Now that he was taking instructions from another man it was difficult for him. He knew that he had to do what he had to do for Jada and himself, so he worked for peanuts and swallowed his pride. He was lucky that Moretti hadn’t fired him for walking out on the job the night of Jada’s recital.

  The thoughts of returning to the streets invaded his mind constantly, but he stayed strong. He wasn’t chancing going back to jail, and if he got caught hustling drugs, he was getting a one-way ticket straight back to Rikers Island. This is all for Jada, he thought as he finished up his breakfast and put on his steel-toe boots.

  Quinn had stayed out all night so Kalil was going to have to take the subway to work. As he stepped foot on the New York pavement, he remembered back when he ran the streets. Even at eight AM there were corner boys hustling on the block, trying to get the morning crowd, which usually consisted of regular working citizens trying to get a fix to start their day off. Kalil smiled to himself as he watched grown men and women line up as if they were children in elementary school, just to get the monkey off of their back. “The early bird gets the worm,” he said to himself as he walked past the crowd of addicts, repeating what he used to preach to his workers.

  “Ayo, Kalil!” a man’s voice said from amidst the crowd.

  Kalil looked up and saw his lil’ man, Peanut, distributing packets of heroin and taking money from the fiends.

  Peanut focused his attention back on Kalil and smiled as he walked over to him, but some of the customers began to complain about not getting their packs quick enough. Peanut stopped dead in his tracks and turned toward the crowd. “Yo, shut the fuck up and wait for me. I know y’all see me trying to get at my mans right here. Keep complaining and I won’t serve y’all shit. You can go uptown and cop some of that bullshit if you want to, if not y’all betta wait!” Peanut, shaking his head in disbelief, turned his back on them and faced Kalil. “Can’t believe these mu’fuckas,” he said in exasperation. “What’s good, fam?” He extended his hand toward Kalil.