CHAPTER THIRTY
I didn't know how long we'd been driving. Ten minutes, thirty, I couldn't tell anymore. Nobody said shit to me, and every time I asked where we were going, they ignored me. Eventually, I stopped asking.
I sat pressed against the side of the truck with my arms wrapped around myself.
My cheek still burned from where I'd been hit, and every few minutes, I tasted blood.
I tried paying attention to where we were going, but the windows were too dark to see anything.
All I knew was that we'd stopped at a few lights, made a bunch of turns, and wherever we were going, we weren't there yet.
I closed my eyes. Jokah knew I went to Target. He knew I had his car. He knew I was supposed to come home. He would know something was wrong.
He had to. The truck finally slowed down, and I sat up.
"Where are we?"
Nobody answered. We turned onto what sounded like gravel before stopping, and my heart started pounding again. Then the door opened.
"Get out."
I didn't move.
"I said get out."
"Where are we?"
He reached for me.
"Don't fucking touch me!" I kicked at him.
"Get this bitch."
"No!"
Two of them dragged me out, and I screamed again, but there wasn't anybody around to hear me.
"HELP!"
"Shut the fuck up."
"HELP ME!"
A hand covered my mouth, but I fought the entire way inside. I kicked, swung, and tried to bite any hand that got close enough to my face. They might've gotten me here, but I wasn't about to make shit easy for them.
They finally got me into a room and pushed me down onto a mattress sitting on the floor. I caught myself with my hands before immediately moving toward the wall. One of the men stood in the doorway watching me.
"What do y'all want?"
He didn't answer. I stared at him, trying to control my breathing.
"If this is about Jokah, y'all fucked up."
He just stood there silently.
"You know who he is. And you know what they say about him."
The man smiled. "Bitch, I ain't scared of Jokah."
"Somebody in that truck was."
His smile disappeared. That was enough for me. I wasn't stupid enough to keep pushing him, but at least I knew one thing. They were scared of my man. He stared at me for a moment.
"You better worry about yourself and stop worrying about who's scared of Jokah."
My stomach tightened.
"Then what the fuck do y'all want with me?"
He stepped farther into the room. My heart was beating so hard it hurt, but I refused to let him see how scared I was.
"You already kidnapped me and hit me. You think I'm worried about hurting your fucking feelings?"
I looked him directly in his eyes.
"Y'all better hope he doesn’t find me."
He laughed. "That’s supposed to scare me?"
"It should."
I didn't know everything Jokah had done, and I didn't want to know. But I lived in Broward long enough to hear the same rumors everybody else had. People disappeared when they crossed him, and second chances weren't something he was known for. Jokah damn sure wasn't the negotiating type.
"He finds out you put your hands on me, money ain't what he's bringing."
The man stared at me, and for the first time since they'd grabbed me, I saw something in his face that eased some of my fear. He didn't say anything else. He walked out and closed the door behind him, and a second later, I heard the lock click from the other side.
I sat there for a few seconds, staring at the door. Then everything I'd been trying to hold together finally fell apart. I covered my mouth as the tears came.
"No." I shook my head. "No, no, no."
I couldn't fall apart. Not yet.
I got up and went to the door. "HELLO?" I banged on it. "PLEASE!"
There was complete silence.
I hit it harder. "PLEASE LET ME OUT!"
Nobody answered, so I backed away from the door.
There was one small window in the room, but it was covered, and there wasn't a phone or anything else I could use to get help.
I sat back down on the mattress as my mind went straight to Mama, Armani, and Chanel.
They probably knew something was wrong by now.
Then I thought about Jokah. He definitely knew.
I wiped my face. "Come get me." My voice cracked. "Please."
I pulled my knees against my chest, and I didn't know how much time had passed before I heard voices outside the room. Then a door opened and closed somewhere else in the building, and a few minutes later, I heard a vehicle start outside. I listened as it drove away.
Silence followed. I didn't know who had left, and I didn't care. I just wanted somebody to open that door and tell me I could go home. Instead, footsteps came toward the room. The lock moved, and the door opened. It wasn't the man from earlier.
This was one of the other men from the truck. He stepped inside alone and closed the door behind him. My stomach immediately tightened. He leaned against the door and looked me up and down.
"What's your name?"
I didn't answer.
"I already know it. I'm just trying to talk to you."
"Then talk from over there."
He smiled. "You got a mouth on you."
I didn't respond. Something about the way he was looking at me made me wish the other man had come back instead. Completely shaken, I stared at him while his eyes moved over me slowly.
"You a pretty fine-ass bitch."
My skin crawled. "Don't call me that."
He laughed. "What you want me to call you?"
"How about nothing?"
"Damn." He pushed away from the door, and I immediately stood.
"Stay over there."
"Why you so nervous?"
"I'm not."
"Yeah, you are."
He took another step, and I moved back.
"Where did your friend go?"
"Had something to handle."
"Then go with him."
He chuckled. "Nah. I wanted to stay here with you."
My back hit the wall, and his eyes moved over me again. "We all alone now."
Something about the way he said it made my blood run cold.
"Open the door."
"Why?"
"I want to leave."
"You think I'm just gonna let you walk out?"
"Please."
His smile disappeared, and I hated how quickly his face changed.
"Don't come near me."
He did anyway.
"I said don't fucking touch me."
He reached for me, and I slapped his hand away.
"Don't touch me!"
He grabbed my wrist, and I screamed.
"GET OFF ME!"
I fought him hard, scratching him, kicking him, hitting whatever I could reach.
"STOP!"
He grabbed me and pushed me onto the mattress. I immediately tried to get back up.
"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!"
He forced me back down.
"PLEASE!"
I screamed again, but nobody came.
"Please don't do this."
He didn't stop.
I kept fighting until fighting wasn't working anymore, and then I stared at the ceiling.
There was a crack above me, starting near the corner and stretching almost to the light.
I focused on it and counted every place the paint had chipped, anything except thinking about what was happening to me, anything except being there.
So, I went somewhere else. Mama's kitchen, Armani getting on my nerves, Chanel calling Jokah fine and Daddy telling me he was going to try.
Then the rooftop, the rain and Jokah. His arms around me and the sound of his voice.
In this little-ass window of time I've known you, I fell in love with you, Kaior. My eyes filled with tears. I love you.
BOC!
The man froze and so did I. Another gunshot rang throughout the building.
BOC!
"What the fuck?" He jumped off me but tripped over his own two feet in the process.
I scrambled backward on the mattress while he stood, rushing to pull his pants up. My hands were shaking as I reached for mine. I couldn't get them on. Then I heard footsteps right outside of the door. The man tried to hurry and zip his pants, when the door flew open.
Jokah stood there with fire in his eyes.
For one second, nobody moved. His eyes went to me, then to my pants lying on the mattress, then to the man standing beside me, still pulling himself together.
Jokah's eyes went from the man zipping his pants to me. He didn't ask what happened. All it took was one look at me told him everything he needed to know.
He raised his gun.
"Jokah—"
“You touched my fuckin’ woman nigga?”
The shot exploded through the room. The man screamed and dropped to the floor, both hands flying between his legs. I screamed too, covering my ears.
Jokah walked toward him slowly.
“So, you like taking shit, huh?”
The man was still on the floor, one hand between his legs while the other shook against the floor. Jokah lowered the gun toward his hand, resting between his legs.
“Me too.”
Another gunshot rang through the room.
The man screamed and snatched his hand against his chest.
“ARGHHH!”
Jokah didn't flinch.
“That's why they call me the Undertaker, nigga.”
He stepped closer and brought the pistol across the side of his head, knocking him back to the floor.
Jokah hit him over and over again. Blood flew from his mouth and splattered across the floor. I flinched and turned my face away. I couldn't watch anymore.
"Where Reek at?"
The man groaned. I slowly looked back. The man was still curled up on the floor with blood covering his face.
Jokah stood over him with the gun still in his hand.
Something about the way Jokah said it made my stomach tighten.
Whoever Reek was, Jokah already knew enough to come here looking for him.
And suddenly, I had even more questions about why these men had taken me.
"Where the fuck is Reek?"
"I don't know!"
Jokah pointed the gun at him.
"He left! I don't know where the fuck he went! I swear!"
"Where?"
"I don't know! He ain't tell us!"
Jokah stared down at him.
"Please, bruh. I told you—"
Boc!
Jokah fired another shot, this time hitting him in the forehead, and that rapist’s body went still. I stared at him, then at Jokah. My whole body was shaking. Jokah lowered his gun and looked at me.
The coldness I just watched while he stood over that man disappeared. His eyes dropped to my bare legs, then came back to my face.
"Fuck." He tucked his gun away and came straight to me.
"Baby."
I couldn't answer. When his hand reached for me, I flinched. He stopped immediately.
"It's me, baby. You're safe."
"I know."
"Ain't nobody touching you again. I got you."
My eyes filled with tears as I looked at him.
"Come here."
I nodded, and this time when he reached for me, I didn't pull away. Jokah dropped to his knees in front of me and picked up my pants. His hands were shaking. I never saw Jokah's hands shake before. He carefully helped me put one leg in, then the other.
"I'm sorry, baby."
I started crying again.
He pulled them up. "Fuck." His voice cracked. "I'm sorry."
"Jokah—"
"Fuck, I'm sorry, baby."
He fixed my clothes, then lifted me into his arms. That was when I lost it. I wrapped both arms around his neck and buried my face against him. Then everything hit me at once. The fear, the pain, and the relief of knowing Jokah had finally found me.
He held me tighter. "I got you."
"I knew you would come."
His steps stopped, just for a second. Then his arms tightened around me. "I got you, baby."
I cried against his chest as he carried me out of the room, keeping my face buried against him. I didn't want to see anything. Not the man on the floor. Not whoever had been on the other side of those gunshots. I just wanted to leave.
Jokah carried me through the building and outside, and the warm air hit my face. I squeezed him tighter.
"You're safe now."
I shook my head immediately. "No."
He looked down at me.
"I want my mama."
"I'm gonna call her, baby, but I'm taking you to the hospital first."
I immediately shook my head again. "Jokah—"
"Kaior." His voice softened. "I gotta make sure you're okay."
"I want my mama," I sobbed.
"I know, baby." He pulled me tighter against his chest. "She'll meet us there. I promise."
I stopped fighting him and rested my head against his chest. "Okay."
"I got you."
For the first time since those men grabbed me in that parking lot, I wasn't wondering what was going to happen next. Jokah had found me. He came for me just like I knew he would. And right then, wrapped in his arms, I felt safe again. I just didn't know how temporary that feeling would be.