Chapter 20
Tucked under the bedding in the guest room of her best friend’s house, Samari did the best she could to settle her racing mind and soothe her aching heart.
Her pride was destroyed. Betrayal and embarrassment flooded her system.
She hadn’t done anything wrong but no one cared about her story.
They wouldn’t give a damn that consent wasn’t given for the clip they were granted access to.
Sheree was with her. Their foreheads touched and Samari felt comfort from her best friend’s presence. She kept her eyes closed because she was embarrassed and couldn’t face the judgement.
“What did he do, Mari?” Sheree asked quietly because she knew her best friend. There was no doubt in her mind Samari had been played. Everything about that video contradicted the behavior of the person she knew and loved.
“I don’t know…” Samari said quietly. Her voice was small because that was how she felt.
“Did you know he was recording you?” Sheree asked, well aware that there was no denying Samari’s presence in the video. Her face, hair, and tattoos were signature and unmistakable, but she needed to know how Samari had ended up there.
“No. I don’t remember all the details from that night. I only have bits and pieces of it, and even watching that video, the memories still are there but I didn’t agree to any of that.”
“He drugged you?” Sheree attempted to hide her anger when she spoke but it came through.
Samari squeezed her eyes tighter, remembering the video she’d found in her deleted files.
Mase and Nefatari together in the room at the party they’d attended.
She’d taken ecstasy but it wasn’t their first time.
She and Mase had taken the drug before but this time she had trouble remembering why she didn’t have control of her actions.
Samari couldn’t lock down the details of that night.
She never would have agreed to a sexual interaction with Nefatari nor being recorded but it happened.
It’d fucking happened. The proof was there.
“We took ecstasy.”
Sheree didn’t flinch, because again, she wouldn’t judge. “Was that the first time?”
“No, but it’s the first time I don’t remember what happened.”
“Are you sure that’s what it was, ecstasy?”
“I had the pills. They were from my purse. He always pushed limits but that was my way of making sure I was safe.” Samari shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense but it doesn’t fucking matter. No one will care because the only thing that they know is what they saw on that video.”
“It matters, Mari. You need to call him because…”
“I’m not doing that.”
“He took advantage of you. He fucking recorded you. That’s a crime. Even if you don’t talk to him about it, you need to talk to someone. This needs to be handled legally. You didn’t know…”
“I knew…” Samari said quietly. It was so weak and low Sheree almost missed it.
“You said you didn’t—”
“I didn’t know he’d recorded me that night, but I knew the video existed.”
“What?” Sheree questioned, confused.
“He used my phone. I found the video in my deleted files a week after it happened. I was clearing photos from my phone after he ended things and deleted some by mistake. I went to add them back to my gallery and found the video.”
He’d deleted the violation but most phones kept deleted items thirty days after removal. She didn’t need to speak that thought out loud.
“I tried to watch it, to see what happened, but…” Samari closed her eyes again. “I couldn’t, so I permanently deleted the file and pretended it didn’t exist. I knew back then and didn’t do anything about it, so I can’t now.”
“That’s bullshit. Wrong is wrong, Mari, and that muthafucker was wrong.”
“I just need this to go away and I need you to let me not think about it for a minute.”
“Mari—”
“I know what I want isn’t going to happen, but right now, that’s what I need.”
Sheree nodded, hugged her girl tightly, and eased out of the bed. It pained her to leave Samari alone to deal with the betrayal. Cantor was waiting in the hallway with concern etched on his face.
He loved Samari like a sister. She was his wife’s best friend and his daughter’s godmother, but more than that, this situation hurt the person he loved most, his wife.
If for no other reason than his need to right the wrongs in her life, he felt helpless.
Cantor was pissed that this had happened to Mari, but also helpless because his wife was upset and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do.
“She okay?” Cantor locked his arms around his wife when she walked straight to him.
“No and I’m pissed because what the fuck is wrong with people?”
“There are a lot of answers to that question but none are going to make you feel any better, Ree. People are just fucked up.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Yeah…” She sighed then frowned when someone rang their doorbell. She glanced at her husband who returned a visual confirmation that he wasn’t expecting anyone so he had no idea who could be at their door.
Together they made their way downstairs, and while Cantor pulled up the camera to see who was at their home unannounced, Sheree remained a foot behind him until he sighed and turned, exposing the visual from their doorbell camera to his wife.
As soon as she had the door open, Sheree was torn.
She saw the concern all over Asao. Could damn near feel his emotions because they mirrored her own.
Both cared about Samari, and because she loved her, Sheree was faced with a tough decision.
“She here?” Asao asked, looking past Sheree briefly before his eyes dropped to her face.
“Yes, but…”
“Nah, fuck whatever you’re about to say. I need to see her.”
“It has to be Samari’s decision.”
When Cantor moved so his wife’s back was protectively at his chest, Asao’s narrowed eyes landed on him. He respected Cantor’s position. He was protecting the woman he loved but doing so meant preventing Asao from doing the same. His stance was firm when he repeated his previous sentence.
“I need to see her.”
Sheree searched his face for a minute before she sighed. “If you’re here to make it worse, you might as well leave now.”
“You know why I’m here and it damn sure isn’t for that,” he said, looking Sheree right in the eyes before he addressed her husband. “If that was your wife, would I be able to stop you?”
When Asao noticed the tension in Cantor’s jaw increase, he had his answer.
Good, muthafucker, because you damn sure weren’t stopping me.
If it came down to it, the Glock at his back would have finished the conversation for him.
Asao cared enough about Samari to not do either any harm but he had a feeling that wouldn’t be necessary once they understood how serious he was about getting what he wanted.
There were enough things between him and Samari.
No more would be added. Not even her best friend.
Cantor eased an arm around his wife’s waist and gently tugged her back, providing space for Asao to enter their home. When they shut the door, closing them in, Cantor pointed toward the stairs. “First door on the left.”
Asao tossed his chin and jogged up the stairs. He entered the room, noticing the body buried beneath the bedding. Once he closed them in, he removed his shoes and the gun from the waistband of his pants, tucking it into the nightstand beside the bed after making sure the safety was on.
Should he have cared about bringing a gun into the home of a family with a small child? Hell yeah, but the decision had been made in pursuit of getting what he needed. Access to the woman he was climbing in bed with.
He felt Samari’s body tense the minute his arms and legs wrapped around her. She was trapped in his embrace but protectively buried against his body. There was no escaping him, but when she buried her face into his chest and the first sob escaped, he was aware she wouldn’t try.
She needed this, she needed him. He’d fucked up and given someone access and now he had to make it right.
She broke, it was ugly and hurt him more than it should have because he wanted to stop the tears.
But she needed to let them go so he let her break while he held her in a way that promised he would put her back together again.
She missed the feel of him next to her, arms locked tightly while she snuggled into his chest. The warmth of his skin on hers.
In the past twenty-four hours, those were the only things that kept her from completely crashing—his touch, his voice, his scent.
She still had his scent on her, in his bed, reminding her that she could feel safe tucked away from the world with him.
Samari inhaled and absorbed the smell of cedarwood. It sank into her lungs, remaining even after she exhaled, but it wasn’t enough so she lifted her body, threw the covers back, and sat up sluggishly, bringing her legs over the side of the bed.
Her eyes traveled around the room that represented the way she felt.
Dark. Gray walls, black furniture, gray carpet, and gray bedding.
The past twenty-four hours had been hard.
When Asao showed up at Sheree’s house, she didn’t have the energy to push him away or tell him to leave.
She also was well aware it wouldn’t have mattered.
He made the decision and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to keep him from being her safe space but she didn’t want to. She wanted him there.
The first few hours he let her cry. They didn’t speak, he just held her. When she was ready, she told him what he needed to know, answered all his questions the best she could with no expectations, because answers didn’t mean understanding. He could end things.
He didn’t.
They left Sheree’s house late that night and he brought her to his apartment. They showered and climbed into his bed and he held her again. Samari was exhausted so she slept. She was at ease with him.