Chapter Thirty
MONIQUE
Before the car accident...
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“Da-Dad?” Monique stammered, surprised and confused to see her father in the middle of her living room. “What are you doing here?”
His face was gaunt and haggard, a far cry from how he’d looked the last time she’d seen him. His eyes held a dangerous gleam, making her heart race even faster. He said nothing, just locked his gaze on her, making it impossible to look away.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing in my house?” she demanded, her fear slowly morphing into anger.
“Monique,” he began, his voice low, his gaze softening. “Hey, sweetie. There’s something important we need to talk about.”
“First, tell me how you got into my house.” He couldn’t have come through the front door. Her friends would’ve seen him, and they would’ve come inside to make sure she was okay.
“Oh, that,” he mumbled, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. That was something he did when he was nervous. “I came in through the back door.”
“It’s locked.”
“Your mom has a key, remember?”
“I took that key from her when she started coming over and letting herself in, only to lecture me on how horrible of a wife I’d been to the man who cheated on me, the man who left me.”
“She got a key made before you took it back.”
There was a tick in her dad’s jaw. Monique cocked her head to the side, finding it hard to read him. Forget reading him. She just wanted him gone. Since her divorce, being around her dad made her uncomfortable.
He was always pestering her to get Trevor back, even if she had to beg him to come back. To him, Trevor was more important than her. That hadn’t sat right with her, which was why she was avoiding her family.
“Just leave, dad.”
“I said we needed to talk, Monique!”
“Talk?” She scoffed, disbelief coursing through her veins. “You break into my house, and now you want to talk? We talked right after the divorce. When you should’ve been comforting me or at least trying to be kind to me, you belittled me and made me feel like a failure. Since that’s how you feel, we have nothing more to say to each other. It’s clear that you don’t want a daughter like me in your life. So, stay out of mine.”
“Believe me, if there was another way...” His words trailed off as he stepped toward her, but she instinctively stepped back, her mind reeling with confusion and suspicion.
“Stay away from me,” she warned, her body tense and ready to flee if necessary.
What could possibly be so important that her own father would resort to this? Was he doing this because of Trevor? Was he going to try and force her to get back with her ex? Fuck that! Monique had nothing to say to her bastard of an ex. The mere thought of engaging with him made her stomach churn.
“Monique, please, just listen to what I have to say,” he pleaded, his tone desperate.
“Get out!” she screamed, her voice cracking under the strain of her emotions. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!”
Her father’s expression turned cold, and he took another step forward, ignoring her protests. His determination only fueled her fear, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
I should’ve stayed at the casino. Why didn’t I stay at the casino? Ugh!
“Monique,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is important. You need to listen.”
Her thoughts raced as she backed away from him, trying to make sense of the situation. No, forget the situation. Forget what he wanted. What she wanted was to get away from him. Monique took a step left toward the door.
“Fine!” her father spat loudly, making her flinch. “You want to know why I’m here? I’ve been trying to call you for weeks, but you never answer.”
Monique crossed her arms, her frustration boiling over as she glared at him.
“Why would I answer when all you ever do is try to convince me to get back with Trevor? I’m done with him, and I’m done with you meddling in my life!”
Her father stared at her, his eyes filled with anger and desperation. “This isn’t about Trevor,” he said through clenched teeth. “Well, not entirely.”
“Then what is it about?” Monique demanded.
“Your ex-husband sent me,” he admitted, his voice strained.
“I thought you said this wasn’t about him!”
“It’s not. Not really. Look, he wanted me to get a few things from your house. That’s it. But there’s another reason I came.”
Monique’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
“You have got to be kidding me! Trevor sent you to get stuff from my house? When he left, he told me there was nothing in this house that he wanted, including me. Now you’re saying he sent you here to get something. You need a better lie than that, dad.”
“Monique,” her father started, but she cut him off with a venomous glare.
“Enough!” she shouted, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “I told you, I am done with Trevor. There is nothing left for him here, and there’s nothing left for you, either. Don’t come here again. Now get out of my house! Oh, and tell mom... Wait!” Monique’s gaze narrowed. In her anger and confusion, she’d forgotten something important. “I got my locks changed after mom’s last visit. Her key should no longer work.”
What the hell! He’d really broken in. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. Her father stared at her for a moment, his jaw working silently as if trying to find the right words. But there was no such thing as the right words, not anymore.
There was nothing this man could say to her. He’d already destroyed their father-daughter relationship. This incident was just what she needed to erase the guilt she’d felt over ignoring her parents’ phone calls.
Monique’s heart raced, and all she wanted was to escape this situation and get back to her friends waiting in the car outside.
“Listen, sweetie,” her father began, stepping closer to her.
Every instinct screamed at Monique to shrink away from him, but she stood her ground.
“Don’t call me sweetie.”
Her father chuckled bitterly. “Why are you like this?” he said, no longer pretending to be nice. “Why have you always been like this?” he yelled. “You’ve been a horrible daughter all these years. Instead of staying home to care for your mother and me and help in the church, you insisted on attending college. And for what? Ultimately, you did what we wanted and got married like you should’ve done right out of high school. I thought I’d finally gotten you on track, and then you upset Trevor. You couldn’t even keep your husband happy,” he roared. “Your job as a woman is to care for your man and procreate. You couldn’t do either of those things.”
“Excuse me?” Monique’s voice rose an octave as her mind tried to process the words he’d just vomited at her.
“You’ve gotten even worse since the divorce, girl,” her father insisted. “If I don’t do something to save you now, you’ll end up in hell.”
Ugh! He was about to get all holier than thou. What would he try to do, baptize her against her wishes? Force her to stay in a dark room without food or water until the spirit told him to let her out. Those were the things he’d done to her as a child.
He claimed he’d been trying to save her soul. At an early age, she’d realized her father wasn’t the believer he pretended to be. God would answer her prayers before he answered a hypocrite like her dad.
“If I don’t protect your soul,” he sneered those all too familiar words. “Who will?”
Her chest tightened with fear, her eyes flicking towards the door.
“Your divorce has embarrassed us in the church,” he continued, his tone biting. “Our family doesn’t believe in divorce. I preach against it. Yet, my own daughter has gotten one. You’ve shamed us. You should’ve just done whatever Trevor wanted you to do. It’s common for men to cheat. Men need change now and then. We need variety. And why shouldn’t we? We work hard to provide for our families. We help in the community. We are the backbone, no, the foundation in your lives. Why can’t we enjoy ourselves any way we see fit? And if you really wanted him to stay home and not cheat, you should’ve gotten rid of some of that weight. When I threatened to stop being intimate with your mother, it was a wake-up call for her. Afraid she’d lose me to someone else, she lost sixty pounds in four months. Trevor only asked you to lose forty. And...”
“Enough!” Monique cried out, tears springing to her eyes.
“That will be the last time you yell at me, girl. I’m your father. You will respect me.”
“Why should I respect you when you’ve never respected me?” She continued stepping back as anger surged through her veins. “Get out of my house! You’re not my father. I’m no longer your daughter. I don’t want you in my life!”
“If it was that easy, I would’ve...”
“Leave!” Her breaths came quick and shallow as she pointed towards the door, her hand trembling.
She couldn’t bear his presence any longer. He had her feeling trapped like a cornered animal. A noise in the kitchen yanked Monique’s attention away from her father. Her eyes widened.
Her father hadn’t come alone. Could it be... Trevor ? A surge of adrenaline coursed through her, and she made a split-second decision to bolt for the front door. Monique sprinted forward.
She felt the cold metal of Raz’s car keys between her fingers. The comfort of clutching them made her feel like she had a lifeline to Raz.
“Monique, don’t!” her father warned, but she refused to listen.
As she attempted to flee, her father lunged for her. She veered to the side, trying to avoid his fingers. His nails scraped across her neck seconds before he grabbed the strap of her dress and yanked. She cried out, dropping her journal as she tried to escape his grasp.
She grabbed his wrist, nails biting into his skin, causing him to curse at her. His grip eased up, and she broke free. Monique raced for the door but was yanked back by her hair. She twisted around and swung at her father, her fist slamming into his nose.
Blood spurted. He released her, but she wasn’t free. His fist raced toward her face. She didn’t have time to dodge it. She only had time to turn her head to the side. Pain sliced through her face as her head jerked back from the force of his fist hitting her cheek.
She tasted blood. A ringing noise took up residence in her ears. From the corner of her eye, she saw her father reach into his coat pocket. Did he have a weapon? She couldn’t let him pull it out.
“Get out of my house!” she screamed, her desperation mounting as she fought him, never imagining she’d have to fight her own father like this.
Her nails scraped across his cheek. Crying out, he flung her backward. She fell over the table, dropping Raz’s keys as the side of her head hit the corner of the table before she hit the floor.
Before she could rise, her father was on her. In one fluid motion, he pulled out a syringe and jabbed it into her neck. The needle pierced her skin like a hot poker, and she gasped at the sudden pain.
Heat flowed through her veins, and she felt like she was about to be sick. A rush of dizziness followed, her vision blurring as the world began to tilt. Toya and Meka’s voices reached her ears from outside, their concerned tones blending together.
“Monique?” they called, their footsteps approaching the front door.
“Stay out!” Monique tried to scream, but her voice came out weak and strained.
Her body felt heavy, as though gravity were pulling her down with twice its usual force. Oh, wait, she was already down. Panic bubbled up inside her, threatening to choke her.
“You brought this on yourself. A woman should know her place. I failed to teach you. But it’s not too late,” her father whispered against her ear as he covered her mouth with his hand. His grip was firm, suffocating, leaving her no room to breathe or cry out.
“Monique!” Toya and Meka burst through the door, their eyes darting around the room in search of her.
“Help... me...” she thought. But at the same time, she was thinking, “Run.”
She couldn’t voice either of those requests because consciousness was slipping away like sand through her fingers.
“Pastor Rose?” Meka’s voice wavered, the confusion evident in her tone.
“Pastor Rose, I respect you and all,” Toya shouted. “But if you don’t get your ass off my friend, I will pull this trigger.”
Oh, right. Toya had a gun. Toya always had a gun. Thank you, crazy-ass Toya.
“Get the fuck off her,” Toya yelled.
The sound of someone rushing from the kitchen filled Monique’s ears as darkness closed in on her. A gunshot pierced the air. Oh, no! Her heart raced. Her vision was distorted due to the dizzying effect of the drug coursing through her veins.
Screams filled the air. Another gunshot rang out. Yelling and the sound of furniture scraping against the floor filled her ears. But it was fading away just as quickly as she was. Her friends needed her.
But all Monique could do was lie there as the darkness dragged her under. As she faded away, her thoughts drifted to Raz. She wouldn’t be there when he got home from work. She wouldn’t be there to smile at him and ask if he had a good day.
She wouldn’t be able to see his smile, feel his touch, or hear his voice. She’d finally found love. Real love . And it was being snatched away from her. No, it wasn’t being snatched away from her.
Raz had told her he refused to let her go. He would come for her. He would find her. And he’d take her home. She believed in her man. She trusted in his ability to keep her safe. He’d find her. She just had to wait.
And for now, she had to sleep. When she opened her eyes again, he’d be there. Raz would be with her. Always. Just like he’d promised. But what Monique didn’t know was that Raz was facing the same darkness she was facing.
Just like her, his life was in danger. Just like her, he was wishing he was at home with the person he loved. Unfortunately, neither of them would be going home anytime soon.
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To be continued in part 2....