Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Patient crying and seems agitated. Lacerations over her right eye and her left eye is swollen shut.
This is the patient’s third visit in eight months. Left arm fractured and three golf ball sized bruises are on her left side. Clear signs of DV but patient refuses to report to the authorities.
Patient’s entire lower extremities bruised. Pinky and thumb on left hand broken.
Never one to sleep more than six hours a night, before the sun rose, Akeem was up and waiting on his phone was a text and files from Axton.
He sent the full medical records for Tanjaya and Sunjiya.
The medical records from Sunjiya are very limited.
Aside from her birth record, only eye exams and prescriptions.
Tanjaya’s records, on the other hand, are extensive.
Over the past few years, she’s made several trips to emergency rooms and it’s clear from the patient notes that Marcelin deserves to die.
Akeem has spent the last hour and a half reviewing the notes and diagnosis from her most recent visits.
There appears to be an escalation in the last year, which definitely explains why Tanjaya left him and is running.
Originally, he was simply looking for allergies, something that would finally convince him Sunjiya is who she claims and her twin story is true.
So he only read the intake notes and vitals.
One after the other reported no allergies for Tanjaya. None.
It took him a few moments to accept the very thing he has been struggling with since Sunjiya first revealed she’s Tanjaya’s twin.
He witnessed her allergic reaction to the food.
He saw her visibly affected. Her eyes filled with water.
She struggled to breathe and he’d had to save her by administering her EpiPen.
No denying what he lived and witnessed in real time.
Sunjiya had a very real allergic reaction. I saw that shit.
Tanjaya’s extensive medical records clearly show no allergies.
Sunjiya was and is telling the truth.
Although Akeem had found what he was looking for about allergies, the amount of visits Tanjaya had taken to the emergency room intrigued him and caused him to dig deeper. Report after report, he discovers an ugly and horrific truth. Marcelin was hurting Tanjaya.
Akeem has no qualms about who he is and what he does for a living.
He’s a calculating killer with expert marksmanship.
Under the guise of the military along with his own contracts, he has successfully killed forty-four men.
He’s no saint by any means but he has standards and morals.
Women are off limits. Having Sunjiya in those zip ties fucked with him enough.
He hated knowing Marcelin had actually broken Tanjaya’s bones, blacked her eyes, and bruised her body.
No man should ever put his hands on a woman.
No fucking exceptions.
After this morning’s discoveries, three things are very clear to him.
Marcelin’s days are numbered. No way Akeem can leave him breathing after reading those records.
Tanjaya needs his help. If Marcelin hired Akeem to find her, he’ll hire another to track her down and possibly kill her.
Akeem has to find her first and he needs Sunjiya to help him.
Since she is indeed her twin sister, her insight will be invaluable.
Needing to channel his anger and map out his next steps, Akeem throws on a hoodie, his sweats, and Ones and treks to the kitchen.
After grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he drops it into his pocket and heads out of the house.
For the next hour, he jogs the ranch twice, working up a sweat and clearing his mind.
As soon as he’s back inside, he takes a hot shower, dresses, grabs his and the two other cell phones, then heads to the basement to see if she’s up.
He’s worked up an appetite but doesn’t want to take any more chances with ordering food after his fuck up last night.
Plus, they have so much to discuss. Unlike the last several times he’s entered the basement, he knocks this time.
Things are different and he suddenly feels uncomfortable with just opening the door and walking down.
Hearing the three short taps on the door surprises and confuses Sunjiya.
“Why the fuck is he knocking?” she utters as she ambles out of the bathroom.
Just fifteen minutes ago, she was in the shower handling her morning regime.
Having her things and being alone last night and this morning rejuvenates her and gives her the energy needed to deal with this predicament.
The gun-toting kidnapper is back, knocking. I need all my energy to convince him today.
“I’m up,” she announces after taking a deep breath.
At her words, he unlocks the door, opens it, then descends the stairs. She walks to the small dining table. Because she’s hopeful but definitely not at all naive, her scissors and eyebrow razor are tucked into her bra. When she sits, he joins her on the opposite side.
“Good morning,” he says.
Pleasantries. What the hell is going on this morning, she thinks but keeps her thoughts to herself and responds the same.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he looks at her beautiful face. She looks refreshed today and her skin has a nice glow. He also notices her hair’s changed. It isn’t straight and hanging down both sides. No heat has graced it and she’s all-natural with large black coils.
“Depends on what’s happening to me today,” she admits honestly. Her entire mood and mental health are absolutely tied to her fate.
“I need your help, Sunjiya,” he says, enunciating her name.
Sunjiya! He called me Sunjiya. Was that intentional? Does he believe me now?
“You called me Sunjiya,” she comments, praying she isn’t reading too much into it.
“Because I know you aren’t your sister,” he explains.
A wave of pure relaxation floods her entire body. The tight knots in her neck, tension in her shoulders, anxiety coursing through her veins, and slightly elevated heart rate since being locked in this basement all dissipates and she can finally breathe.
He believes me.
“Why? How? What changed?” she questions.
“Your sister’s in trouble. I got her medical records and the nigga who hired me has been putting his hands on her. The shit’s really bad. I think that’s why she left. She’s running and probably why she reached out to you,” he says and she feels her heart drop into her stomach.
“Medical records?” she quizzes, barely over a whisper.
“It’s bad,” he says as he debates showing her the actual records. The color on her face drains and her eyes drop. Her entire face looks sad and that shit makes his damn chest tight.
“And you have the actual records?”
“Yeah, I got them all and it’s pretty bad. I don’t think you should see them,” he insists.
“I want to see them, please.”
Against his best judgment, he pulls his cell from his pocket and opens the files.
Then, he slides the phone over to her. His eyes stay glued to her as she scrolls through record after record.
By the third ER visit, she’s unable to mask or contain her emotions.
Tears fall from her eyes as she reads the horrific injuries on page.
Everything in him wants to reach out and comfort her in some way but he refrains.
Instead, he treks to the bathroom. When he returns with tissue, she’s still reading.
He hands her the tissue. She nods in appreciation but continues to break her heart and read.
Page after page, it’s all here, broken bones and ribs, bruises, and trauma.
Sunjiya reads every patient note, diagnosis, and treatment, two thoughts crowding her mind.
Marcelin is a piece of shit and a fucking monster. He has to die.
“I want to kill him,” she finally says before placing Akeem’s phone on the table.
“Nah. That’s all me,” he assures her. “I just need you to help me figure this shit out and find her because I don’t think she’s in Crescent Falls. She probably left before you came. I placed a camera outside of her apartment and reviewed the footage last night. She hasn’t come back.”
“She’s gone,” she utters, then adds, “We gotta find her and get to his ass.”
“Agreed,” he says. “You know her better than me. So let’s just look through this shit again and see what we might have missed.
And ay, before we start, I owe you an apology.
I was just doing my job based on the intel I had but I should have listened to you.
My bad; I’m sorry,” he says and she shakes her head.
With a sarcastic grin, she says, “Sorry for drugging me, tying me up, and threatening to shoot me? Yeah, okay. It’s going to take more than that. Let’s just work together and find my sister.”
The apology was a shot that obviously failed but part of him knew that. He just had to give the shit a try because part of him felt bad. Although he was operating on the information given to him and his gut, he hated that he hadn’t listened to her more.
“You got that. I’m hungry though. I can’t do shit when I need food. After last night, I’m not taking any chances. You can pick the spot and get what you can eat.”
“I just need coffee for now. I might want something later. There’s none down here. Am I permitted to go upstairs?” she asks with a smirk.
While she appreciates their newfound dynamic, the fact remains that she’s been his prisoner for the last twenty-four hours. She’s treading lightly until she fully trusts it or him.