ࡱ> z|y @ ~|bjbj "؝؝~t2222222"f!f!f!f!4!L"Y,B!!!!!"""+++++++$-R/+2:)"":):)+22!!, + + +:)"2!2!+ +:)+ + +22 +!! 4^"f!\)N ++),0Y, +0*L0 +F$j222202 +"w$0 +%&"""++""Df!*""f!Chapter 20 As I walked up the block to my house I took in the scene of chaos before my eyes. There were at least five police cars with their lights flashing scattered all along the sides of the street. An ambulance with its lights also flashing was parked in the middle of the street. In the distance, I could see the paramedics pushing a stretcher with what looked like a body covered in a white bloody sheet. Panic engulfed me as I saw my parents standing outside with stricken looks on their faces. A cop stood in front of my dad and was asking him questions as he stood writing in a small note pad. I ran up to where they were. Mom! What happened? I asked breathlessly as I flung myself in her arms. Mari! she gasped clutching me tightly to her as she fought back tears. Mom what happened? I asked again. Your father... There was suddenly shouting and angry voices behind us, one of which I recognized as Marcus. I turned around in time to see him stalking angrily towards my father. You killed my brother motherfucker! he yelled, his face contorted with rage. Behind him I could see his parents clinging to each other with shock written all over their faces. What the hell was going on? Why was Marcus yelling at my dad? Im gonna fucking kill you! Marcus ranted on and made to lunge at my father. A few of his fiends and two police officers grabbed a hold of him before he could make good on the threat and wrestled him down to the ground. He killed my brother! He killed my brother! he screamed. I looked on at the scene before my eyes with a mixture of terror and confusion. What did my dad do to Malcolm? My dad wasnt a killer. What the hell had happened? Get him out of here. another officer instructed, and the two officers who were holding Marcus down yanked him up to his feet and dragged him back to the other side of the street, and placed him in one of the police cars. I turned back to my parents. What happened? I asked in a strangled voice. My dad spoke first. His voice was heavy with sadness and low. I came outside to get something from my car and saw Malcolm and his friends selling some drugs to a guy in a car. I didnt know at the time that the guy in the car was an undercover police officer, so I yelled out to them that I was going to call the cops if they didnt leave the street. They brushed me off and went back to their dealing so I started to cross the street to confront them. You know how I hate seeing drugs in the neighborhood? Dread was settling heavy in me as I knew the outcome of this story was going to forever change me. He continued. Just as I was about to reach the car the cop jumps out and pulls a gun on Malcolm and yells Police! Put your hands in the air! Malcolm and his boys took off running and in the heat of the moment I ran after them. I managed to grab a hold of Malcolm and as he tried to pull away I fell on top of him. The next thing I knew he was pulling out a gun and waving it around. I grabbed for his hand with the gun and out of the corner of my eye I see the cop running up to us. The next thing I knew Malcolm fired off a shot and the cop started to shoot back. I let go of Malcolm and ducked behind a car that was parked next to us. I heard another shot then silence. When I got up from behind the car I saw Malcolm bleeding on the ground and the cop was calling for help using his radio. My father stopped and took a deep breath. When he spoke again his voice was filled with emotion and unshed tears. I knew that boy as a baby, and to see him lying there in a pool of blood with his eyes still opened was the last thing I would ever wish on him. I was just trying to do the right thing. The policeman who was talking to my dad when I had walked up was scribbling furiously in his note pad. I closed my eyes and slumped against my mom. What a prom night this was turning out to be. Malcolms funeral was three days later. My family and I were not invited for obvious reasons, and as I stared out the window looking at Marcus and his family pile into the limo that would take them to the church for the service, I realized that our entire relationship was forever damaged. He had postponed his leaving for North Carolina in order to help with the funeral arrangements. I got bits and pieces of information on his mental state from one of his boys whom I knew mutually. Neighborhood gossip was running rampant and I no longer felt comfortable going outside of my house. My family and I were now subjected to angry glances and whispering as we walked by, and I had overheard my parents talking about moving out of state. My world was beginning to crumble. The only thing that kept me sane was the fact that I would be spending most of my time in Manhattan at school; away from the stares, head shakes and sucking of teeth that had now become an everyday occurrence whenever I left my house. The hardest part was having Marcus leer at me from across the street when I had tried to talk to him the day after the shooting. I had wanted to explain that it wasnt my dads fault that his brother got killed, but as I rambled on his mouth turned up in an ugly sneer and he gave me the middle finger. So much for the love he had for me huh? But I wasnt deterred. I knew where his room was situated in his house. He occupied the back bedroom of the ranch styled house he lived in. After having another sleepless night I was determined to talk to him and set things right between us before he left for college. I waited until my parents were asleep and snuck out of the house. My heart raced as I briskly walked up the street. I skittered quickly to the back of the house and knocked on his window. The house was dark, but I could see a soft glow of light in his room. Marcus! I whispered loud enough to be heard. I moved closer to the window. Marcus! I saw him peer out at me, curious to see who was calling him. When he saw it was me his cold, stony mask slid into place. What do you want? he asked anger lacing his voice. We need to talk. Can I come in? I didnt wait for him to respond but climbed up on top of one of the garbage cans that stood just off to the side of the window. I then put one of my legs through the window and catapulted myself into his bedroom. I landed on his desk and jumped down and went to sit on his bed. I looked around his room. A closet stood off to the right, a small dresser to the left and posters of Heavy D, Stacy Dash and Big Daddy Kane graced the walls. In the dim light that radiated from a small table lamp next to his bed I could see the walls were painted a light blue color and the sheets on his bed almost matched the wall. On the floor two large duffle bags lay open revealing clothing, shoes and books. It was obvious I had caught him packing up to leave for his trip to North Carolina. Get out Marissa. he breathed angrily as he grabbed me roughly by the arm and tried to drag me back to the window. Get off of me. I fired back and jerked my arm out of his grasp. I dont want you here. he said through clenched teeth. His eyes blazed hotly with contained anger. Well too bad. Im staying. I said stubbornly as I sat back down on the bed. I had worn my nightshirt, robe and Keds when I had snuck out the house and now I was rethinking my dress code as the nightshirt rode up my thighs. I tried to pull the robe around me, but it was the same length as the shirt and stopped midway up my thighs. I saw Marcus eyes flicked upon my legs and lingered briefly before he looked away and sat across from me at the desk. Talk. he said sourly. My mind seemed to go blank. The moment I had visualized in my mind for the past few days was finally here and I had nothing to say. Focus Marissa, I said to myself. Just tell him whats on your mind. Its not fair you mad at me. I blurted out. And its not fair my brothers dead because of your old man. he shot back. He didnt shoot him Marcus. The cop did. If he didnt run after Marcus like he did none of this wouldve happened. You dont know that. I argued. The hell I do! he said fiercely as he shot up off the chair. He pointed an angry finger in my face. I blame your family for all of this and so does everyone else in this neighborhood. If your dad wasnt such an Uncle Tom my brother would be alive today. My dad didnt kill your brother. I said again as tears welled up in my eyes. You have to believe that. He was behind the car when the cop shot your brother. Marcus shook his head sadly. You dont get it do you? In this neighborhood we look out for one another. Its the black man against the cops at all times. Just because your dad married a Chinese woman doesnt make him any different from the rest of the black men in this neighborhood, it just makes him less on the radar of the cops as theyre busy shaking down the brothers who have black wives. His words stung and I found myself looking everywhere but at him. What? You think youre too good to look at me now? he hissed. Is that why you turned me down the night of prom cause Im not good enough to sleep with? My eyes rounded. What? Im sure your daddy wants you to lose it to a white guy instead of a nappy- headed boy like me huh? Marcus youre blowing this way out of proportion. Its not like that... Really? he sneered. Well see about that. He stalked towards me where I sat on the bed and grabbed both my hands and forced them above my head. He used the weight of his body to push me down on the bed, then using his knees he pried my legs opened and positioned himself between them. I tried to free my hands from his grasp, but he outweighed me by twenty pounds. Marcus what are you doing? I choked out, clearly frightened as I fought uselessly against him. Youll see in a minute. he said with a cruel smile. Feel free to scream as much as you want. Im home alone tonight. The rest of the family is at church praying that Malcolms soul finds peace. Realization of what was about to happen hit me like ton of bricks. No! No! No! Please no. Not like this Marcus. Please. Thats right Princess, beg for it. he said with an ugly sneer as he pushed up my nightshirt around my waist with his free hand, then proceeded to yank down my underwear. Please dont do this Marcus. I pleaded as a sob escaped my throat. I tried to pull my hand out of his grasp but it was no use. With him laying between my legs like that and using his weight to push me down onto the bed I was trapped. He freed himself from his pants and pushed into me. I could feel the head of his penis at my entrance and I tried to wriggle back on the bed to dislodge him. He pushed his body up towards mine, and I could feel his hot breath on the side of my neck fanning the tears that were streaming down my face. You know you want it. You know you want this. he said as he freed my hands in order to get some leverage. I used the opportunity to try and push him off me. I pushed at his shoulders but he was not budging, so I began to slap him about the face and claw at him. Get off me you asshole! I screamed as I scratched him along his jaw line. He ducked his head so that my blows would glance off the top of his almost clean shaven head. I couldnt move my lower body as his hips were pinning mine down with excessive force, but still I tried. All through our struggle I felt his hand brushing against my pubic bone as he tried to position himself at my entrance again. After a few failed attempts he succeeded and I felt the tip of him slide into me slowly. I stilled. At that point I knew the enviable was about to happen. All my fighting was not going to help me now, so I tried to reason with him. Marcus please. You said you loved me remember? This is not love. Dont do this. When my dad finds out about this youre going to be sorry. His face morphed into a mask of rage. What is he going to do? Kill me like he did Malcolm? Oh God! He grabbed my hands again and held them above my head and with a loud grunt pushed into me. The pain was immense. I felt as if someone had pierced me with a hot fireplace poker. The scream that left my throat was an alien sound to my ears and right behind it an animalist sob erupted. I could feel him moving in me and with each thrust of his hips pieces of my former self began to fall away. By the time he gave one final push into me then groaned loudly in my ear, his sweat dripping onto my face and lips, I had nothing left in me to fight him with. I lay there feeling hot, cold and nauseous all at the same time. I felt as though I was about to pass out at any moment, but I managed to push it back and gain some of my bearings. I felt him slide out of me, his breathing ragged, his face covered with sweat, then he laid next to me. The contrast of the silence in the room now, compared to the brutal sounds before was not lost on me. I felt the bile rising up in my throat and I scrambled off the bed as best as I could and threw up on the floor. As I lay there gasping I felt him watching me from his place on the bed and suddenly I was engulfed in rage. My breathing was coming out in pants as the gravity of the entire situation came crashing down on me. In my peripheral vision I saw the table lamp just out of my reach near the bed. My next re-collective thoughts were that of picking it up and with a scream slamming it into the side of Marcuss head as he laid on the bed. I remembered seeing the blood running down the side of his face in the distorted light, and him screaming and calling me a fucking bitch as he crumpled on the floor next to the bed trying to stop the bleeding with one of his pillows. I hurried over back to the window I had come into as fast as I could and winced as I lifted my legs up and over the window sill. I looked back and saw Marcus trying to crawl his way over to me on his knees. Maybe it was the fear that catapulted me out the window faster and down the street back to my house, but the next thing I knew I was climbing back into my bedroom window praying my parents had not heard me come back in. If they caught me looking the way I did I wouldve had to do some major explaining and somehow I knew the police would be involved. I took a deep, ragged breath and opened my bedroom door slowly and peered out. With shaky legs and trembling hands I tip-toed down the short hallway and locked myself into the bathroom. I stripped out of my bloodstained nightshirt, underwear and robe and turned on the shower. Standing under the hot spray of water I scrubbed and soaped my skin all the while crying and trying to figure out why Marcus had attacked me like he did. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Mari? my mother called from behind the door. Mari you alright? I quickly washed my face trying to get rid of the traces of my tears and turned off the shower. Im fine ma! I called back as I quickly wrapped my towel around me and got out of the shower. I balled up my stained clothing in my arms making sure none of the bloodstains were visible then opened the door. My mother stared at me from head to foot. Why are you taking a shower at eleven oclock at night? she asked as she leaned against the door jam. Shit. I had to think fast. I...I got my period while I was sleeping. I explained in what I hoped was my normal tone of voice. I stained my clothes so I just took a shower to clean up. She was silent for a long time as she looked me over, and just when I thought she was going to ask me more questions she backed out of the doorway and turned to walk back down the hall to her bedroom. Dry your hair. she said. I dont want you getting sick before you leave for college in a couple of days. I swallowed hard and fought back the tears that were burning the backs of my eyelids. Why hadnt I told my mother what had happened? Because she has enough to worry about, a voice said in my head. My brother Marc was six years old at the time and had developed severe asthma. My parents were always running back and forth with him to the emergency room and with the cost of the medicines and inhalers my brother needed. Money was tight. Plus add the fact that we no longer felt welcomed in our neighborhood added to the tension in our household. I refused to give my parents more to worry about. This I would deal on my own. Somehow. For the next couple of days I hid out in my house until it was time to pack my things in my dads car so he drive me to the campus in the city. As I was making my way out of the house with the last of my suitcases I spotted Marcus sitting on the front steps of his house watching me. My heart instantly leapt in my throat and I stood frozen in my spot. He had a large white bandage on the left side of his head where I had struck him with the lamp. His face showed no emotion and he sat with his elbows on his knees with his hands steepled in front of him. I pushed down the bile rising in my stomach and placed the suitcase I was holding in the trunk of the car. I then turned and fled back into the house. My heart felt like it was going explode inside my chest and I could feel the nausea taking a hold of me as I made my way quickly to the bathroom. I barely had time to lift the lid of the toilet before I doubled over and threw up. God, what had my life turned into? As I clutched the sides of the bowl my mind wandered over to the way my life had evolved in the past couple of days. I hadnt been sleeping well, and when I did fall asleep all I dreamt about was Marcus raping me again. I had become withdrawn, and stayed in my room a lot or watched television to drown out the thoughts of the rape as I tried to rationalize a reason why this had happen to me. My parents were becoming concerned as I was barely eating anything and dark circles had taken up residence under my eyes. I tried to play it off as the excitement of going away to college, but somehow I knew they werent buying my story. I heard light taps on the bathroom door. Then Marcs little voice squeaked, Mari mommys ready to go. I took a deep breath and told him to tell her I was coming. I flushed the toilet, splashed my face with water and rinse out the taste of vomit from my mouth with some Listerine. As I stared at the reflection of myself in the mirror I couldnt help but be angry and sad at the same time. Angry of the girl I had turned into, angry at Marcus for taking away my innocence with violence, and angry that I felt so helpless to do anything about it. I felt so lost and out of my element that I no longer felt joy about anything. I just felt numb inside. I felt sad because what had once been a caring, loving relationship a week ago was now a relationship based on hatred, fear and self-pity all brought about by a situation that had nothing to do with the both of us. I heard my father calling my name. I took one more glance in the mirror, turned off the bathroom light and walked out to begin, what I hoped, was a new life. I didnt see Marcus as I got in the car, and I didnt see him until five years later. By then the incident was a painful memory. I had met Kat in one of my Finance classes and we were fast becoming the best of friends. And even though I loved her like the sister I never had, I still couldnt bring myself to tell her what had happened to me years before. The shame still loomed, and I knew I couldnt handle the sympathy I would see on her face if I told her. Pity was not going to help me. But one day I just got tired of feeling depressed and anxious all the time and went to talk to a rape councilor at the medical center. I joined a support group, and with the help of my mentor at the crisis center I was able to work past the demons. I would never forget what had happened, but at least I was able to cope with it much better. By that time my parents had moved out of the neighborhood and were now living in Maryland with my brother. It required more work to go home during holidays and vacations, but it was a relief to not have to deal with the gossip and indifference we had to deal with before. Gossip had however filtered through from my aunts and cousins who still lived in the area, and I found out Marcus had dropped out of college after his second year at North Carolina University. He had injured his ankle during a game and was now living back home with his parents. He was working menial jobs, and on one Thanksgiving dinner celebration at my parents house, Matt told me that he heard that Marcus was dealing drugs on the side. I had felt disappointed by the news, but at the same time I felt a little bit vindicated that he had failed at being a success. A part of me wanted him to suffer as he had made me suffer, yet I was disappointed in him for not trying harder to finish college. I knew he had the brains to accomplish it, but I guess he didnt have the drive. Then one night I had gone to a club with Kat to celebrate her engagement to Mike, and whilst I was going to the bathroom I felt someone grab onto my arm. I looked up and into the eyes of none other than Marcus. Everything inside me stilled and a sliver of fear shot through me. He looked the same yet different. His head was now bald, his face was leaner and his body was more muscular than I had remembered. He wore diamond stud earrings in both ears, and huge platinum chain with a diamond encrusted M hung from his neck. Looking good Princess. he had said in my ear over the din of the music. I turned my head away in disgust and yanked my arm roughly out of his grasp. I gave him a cold stare and proceeded on shaky legs to the bathroom. As I walked away I heard him yell, What? You think youre too good to say hello to an old friend? Something inside me snapped and I walked back to where he stood with his boys and slapped him hard across the face. I saw one of the guys who stood next to him reach into the waistband of his jeans as if to pull out a gun, but Marcus raised his hand in a stop motion and the guy pulled his jacket closed instead. Marcus was staring at me the whole time; his eyes cold and hard--his face showing no emotion. Its alright. he said as his gazed ran up and down my body. Shorty and I have history together. Isnt that right Princess? Keep your fucking hands off me you rapist. I said through clenched teeth. My hands were balled up into fists at my sides and my body was beginning to shake with uncontrollable rage. Kat upon seeing the commotion had rushed up to my side tagging along two of the bouncers who were friends of ours. Is there a problem here? one of the bouncers whom I knew as Junior asked. Marcus stared at me and raised an eyebrow. He knew I didnt want to make a scene. That would take me having to explain how I knew Marcus in the first place. I took a deep breath trying to calm my rage. No problem. I said through clenched teeth as I gave Marcus one final cold stare. The gentleman just got a little carried away. I then grabbed a hold of Kats arm and we exited the club. I was in a daze as we drove home while Kat kept asking a million questions about what had happened. I feigned tiredness and told her I would update her the next day. It gave me time to fabricate a plausible story and enough to placate her inquisitive mind. But I never forgot that night. The way he had looked at me brought back all the memories of that faithful night in his bedroom, and for the next few days I locked myself in my apartment, called out sick to work, took the phone off the hook and buried myself under a blanket on the couch just watching television, sleeping and getting up for the required bathroom breaks and meals. Finally, I called my mentor at the Rape Crisis Center and set up an appointment to come in. It was with her guidance and some self-reflection that I decided to join the FBI. I wanted to feel powerful and useful, instead of depressed and scared all the time. I wanted to get guys like Marcus off the streets so other girls wouldnt have to go through what I did, and it was that determination that carried me through my training at Quantico. NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN Now, standing before him for the first time in five years since the club incident, I struggled to hold onto that determination. I was a different woman now. Stronger and smarter. I was no longer afraid of Marcus and that made me stand a little bit taller. Marcus gestured with his hands to the couch. Please have a seat. No thanks. I said dryly. This isnt a social call. He smirked and eased his muscular frame onto the couch and stretched his long legs in front of him. Then what kind of call is this? I stared at him. I was in Agent Mode and not in the mood to be fucked with. In my eyes he wasnt a notorious drug dealer, he was just Marcusthe Rapist. I need some information. I stated. He raised an eyebrow. What kind of information? Street information. He studied me for a few seconds. What happened to your face? Yep. Same ole Marcus. Always watching everything. I got into a fight. The swelling on my face had gone down quiet a bit, but my cheek still bore the yellow, purple and black bruises. I did my best to cover it up with foundation, but at this point it was like trying to cover a stab wound with a band-aid. Useless. Looks like you took a beating. he said as his eyes roamed my face. Something like that. I said dryly. What was with all the questioning? Male or female? I rolled my eyes. Is there a point to this? He smirked at me. Male or female? I bit down on the inside of my cheek in annoyance. Male. I replied through clenched teeth. Where is he now? he persisted. I glanced at Bryan who was sporting a small smile on his lips. He was clearly enjoying my banter with Marcus. A little bit too damn much. Dead. Marcus let out a laugh. You always knew how to kill a man didnt you Princess? Must have taken after your father. I stilled as I felt the air around me crackled. I knew he was trying to get a reaction out of me and give himself leverage the situation. I had to stay calm. I was here to do my job. Im not here to discuss the past Mr. Grant. Im here because I need information that you may have. Ooooh. Were using proper names now. he teased. Well then, Mr. Grant it is. And what should I call you Princess? Agent Carter would suffice. I shot back a little bit too harshly. Bryan shifted and took a step closer to me. It was a protective gesture and one not missed by Marcus. He nodded his head at Bryan. Your partner seems to be on edge. I shot him a cool look. He gets antsy around assholes. A smile played upon his lips but didnt reach his eyes. What is this information you require Agent Carter. he said stressing on the last two words. I need to find out where Antonio Boon is. He hesitated for a second.Why would you think I would know the whereabouts of this Antonio Boon? His name is not familiar to me. I didnt say you knew him. I said I need to find him. You have access to a vast amount of information on the streets. He chuckled. Youre giving me too much credit Princess. My power is limited. Only to where you want it to be. I shot back. I was getting annoyed by this game he was playing with me. I stepped closer to where he was sitting and stood in front of him, our knees almost touching. I leaned forward and leveled my Bitch look on him. Then in a low voice I said. Im not here to play nice with you. You seem to forget that fourteen years ago you and I had an incident. You owe me motherfucker. You maybe a big, bad drug dealer now but youre still a fucking piece of shit to me. Dont think I cant get a search warrant within the hour and have them trash this faade of a house you have here, or have your street dealers removed from whatever corner theyre on, because I can. He gave me a blank, cold look. Princess you can search all you want and do whatever federal bullying you want to do. Ive dealt with the Feds before, and if they couldnt find anything then, you wont be able to find anything now. Im not new in this game. You come up in my house asking for help and this is how you ask for it? Remember what happened the last time you came barging into my house? My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest as flashes of that night rolled through my mind. Stay calm Marissa. Hes just trying to unnerve you. Stay in control of the situation. As I seem to remember it, the last time I came barging into your house you ended up with a bandage decorating your head the day after. I tilted my head to the left and studied the side of his head. Glad to see the scar is barely visible. We stared at each other for a few moments before I straightened up. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out one of my cards. I laid it on the couch next to him. Then turned on my heel and walked to the front door with Bryan close behind. Bryan and I didnt speak until we pulled away from the curb. By then, I had finally gotten my nerves under control and could finally breathe at a normal pace. Are you alright? Bryan asked, concern lacing his voice. Ill be fine. I said as I let out a harsh breath. I dont know what Grant did to you in the past to made you hate him so much, but if you need to talk Im available. he said as he flashed me a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road. I stayed silent. I wasnt ready to go back to the past with him just yet. Hell, I was still trying to accept the fact that I had just faced my rapist head on, and did it in a way I had no regrets with. I had set the bait out, and now I was just waiting for the big fish to bite. Hopefully my reel would be able to withstand the force if he did. 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