Broken Heart (Broken Heart #1) (29 page)

“I didn’t say that. I’m just asking how you feel about having kids. You know, do you want any?” I asked softly.

“Absolutely, lots of kids, especially with you. I don’t want to be like my father, though. I mean, I’ll never do anything to hurt my kid. I’ll always be there for him and you.” He smiled softly, and I wanted to throw up in my mouth.

“What if I wanted to have a baby…soon?” I whispered.

“Yeah right…come on…we’re having so much fun. Why are you getting all serious on me?” he chuckled. I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed the ball in my throat.

“You’re right, it’s nothing. I was just wondering. I know we’re not ready.” I sat up tall against the seat.

“No…we’re definitely not ready.” He chuckled and shook his head. He grabbed my hand, and I held on tightly. The ride was silent all the way home, and I wondered how I was going to terminate this pregnancy without telling him. The guilt was consuming me, and I had nowhere turn.

The next two days would be the most difficult. My job was really taking a toll on me. It seemed like the week of wife beaters and child abusers. I had so many cases to investigate in Brooklyn my head was spinning. I was nervous and nauseous all of the time, and the cramping was unbearable

sometimes. I had to do home visits and constantly had to excuse myself to run to the bathroom and puke my brains out.

I woke up the next morning feeling worse than usual. I had to make a visit near my neighborhood up near Alphabet City. I was glad it was close. I was vomiting violently this morning and I felt as if I wouldn’t be able to make it through the day. Michael had to appear in court and left early.

Thank God, he might have heard me vomiting and he would have been suspicious for sure. If he ever found out I was lying to him, he would leave me without a doubt. 

I walked up three flights of stairs to get to apartment G in a building in Alphabet City. I knocked on the door and this little girl with beautiful black wavy locks answered the door. She stood at the

door, and I could hear someone crying. I looked down at the little girl and grabbed her by the hand and then I walked in and said,

“Mrs. Thomas, its Jenesis, Jenesis Heart, your caseworker. I had an appointment today to meet with you and your husband,” I said softly as the cries grew nearer. I walked in towards the kitchen slowly with the little girl.

I was nervous, and I felt uncomfortable and even a little scared.

“Mrs. Thomas?” I repeated cautiously. 

Mrs. Thomas walked towards me. She had a bloody lip and her left eye was swollen shut. She was crying holding a baby in her arms. The little girl who answered the door tugged at my skirt. I looked down and took her by the hand again. I scrambled in my purse to find my cell phone but I

left it at home, near the toilet bowl, no less. At that point, I started to panic. I asked the little girl where her phone was. She pointed to the phone near the kitchen sink. I dialed Dave’s number. 

“Dave, its Jen, when you have a moment, I have an emergency. I left my phone at home. I’m at work…Dave? Is that you? Dave…I’m at...” I whispered as the phone hung up.

I took the baby from the woman and placed her in the bassinet in the bedroom. I walked back over to the kitchen. Mrs. Thomas sat down and the little girl sat on her lap. I got ice from the freezer and placed it in a paper towel and pressed it on her eye. 

“Mrs. Thomas, where is your husband?” I asked with a lump in my throat. 

“Behind you,” she whispered as she began to tremble. 

I turned around slowly as my heart pounded in my throat. Mr. Thomas was standing there in his underwear, sipping on a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. 

“You want something, Miss?” he said sternly as his long salt and pepper hair partially covered his face. 

“I had an appointment today with you both,” I answered with a nervous smile. My hands held on to my purse as my stomach started rumbling.

“Maybe you should come back. Today’s not a good day,” he answered nastily. 

“Well, I can’t leave now, sir. Your wife is hurt, and she needs to see a doctor,” I said politely.

“You think? Look, the best thing for you to do is leave. I have everything under control,” he said impatiently.

“Look, I have to call an ambulance, so, you’ll need to get dressed,” I said firmly. 

“You know what, bitch? You’re getting on my fucking nerves. You just can’t walk into my house and tell me what the fuck to do,” he said angrily as the heat in his face started to rise while he clenched his fists to his sides.

“Mrs. Thomas, please get dressed. I’ll take the kids, it’s not a problem, really,” I said as I began to help Mrs. Thomas walk to her room. As I walked towards the room, I felt a sharp pain in my

stomach. I yelped and held my stomach. I looked over at Mrs. Thomas who stared at me strangely and noticed something was wrong.

“I bet you don’t know why she has that black eye or bloody lip. You wanna know? She tried to tell me what to do… so… I beat the shit out of her, the way I’m going to do to you, if you don’t

get the hell outta here!” he yelled in my face. My face was stone cold. My heart dropped into my stomach and the rumble turned into an earthquake of fear.

The smell of Mr. Thomas’ blistering hot, whiskey breath in my face brought back memories. I had to stay focused. I was cramping badly and I could feel the heat rising to my face. I stepped back and tried to ignore Mr. Thomas and kept on walking towards the bedroom, all of the sudden, he

slams his hand up against the wall to block me from walking. I screamed nervously and jumped back throwing my hands up in the air as to protect him from hitting me and then I stopped moving. 

“Now I warned you, leave… leave before this shit gets ugly,” he whispered in my ear, pressing his menacing dirty lips against my earlobes, his breath reeking of the evil Jack Daniel’s. I stood paralyzed as a memory hit me. I stared at him in deep thought, and then my mind wandered. 

“Didn’t I tell you not to use bleach on my shirts! Goddamn it! How many times do I have to tell you to wash my shirts the right way? I warned you not to do it again, didn’t I! Didn’t I!” The

memory popped into my head and the horrifying vision of my father punching my mother in the face flashes before my eyes. I stood staring at Mr. Thomas terrified, my stomach swirling and

jumping, and I began to sweat. He read the expression on my face and he looked at me as if I were crazy.

“Hey! Are you listening to me!!!” he roared in my face.

“Please move away from me, Mr. Thomas, this doesn’t have to get ugly.” I took a deep breath. I stared at him intensely as I placed my hand on his arm and slid his hand down the wall. He jerked his hand away and moved back away from me in shock. I didn’t give a shit if he knocked me across

the floor, but I was moving and I moved fast. The cramps were so intense and I could feel myself getting nauseous. I needed to get out of there fast.

“Ok…Just…let me take the kids…that way…you won’t get in trouble…ok? Mr. Thomas, okay?” I said softly as the anger in his eyes escalated, surprised at my actions. He stood thinking for a moment.

“Take em’! Take em’, I don’t have time for this shit…I’ll leave, fuck you!” he turned and yelled at Mrs. Thomas. 

Mrs. Thomas ran to him and shrieked,

“No baby! I’m sorry! It’s my fault, I’m gonna fix it, I’ll get you the money, I promise!” she pleaded as she grabbed his arm.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was just like in the movies. He slaps her around and she takes him back in seconds! What is she thinking! What am I saying? So did my mother, my poor, fucking, pathetic…mother.

Why?

“Jen! Jen! Are you in there?” 

I heard a familiar voice. It was Dave’s voice. With my heart hammering against my blouse, my stomach cramping and doing somersaults, my nerves were on edge, and I felt relieved to hear his voice and I quickly yelled,

“I’m in here! Come in!” I placed my hand over my belly.

Dave and Nick kicked open the door. Dave shouted pulling out his gun from the holster,

“Put your hands up against the wall! Do you have any weapons on you? Do you? Drugs?” he asked as he took Mr. Thomas by his throat shoving the gun in his face and turning him around pinning his face against the wall. “Put your fucking hands against the wall, you piece of shit! I better not

get stuck with anything! Do you have any needles? Do you?” Dave yelled in his face. Mr. Thomas placed his hands up against the wall. 

“What did you do? Answer me!” Dave roared.

“Take it easy man, I just had a spat with my wife, that’s all, damn, you’re hurting me!” he cried.

“Turn the fuck around before I knock your ass out! Her swollen eyes and bloody lip doesn’t look like a spat to me you fucking piece of shit! Why don’t you hit me? Huh, mother fucker? Hit me!” Dave howled as he brushed his nose up against Mr. Thomas’ nose waiting for him to lift up his

hands. My heart was now thrashing against my chest as Dave’s behavior shocked the hell out of me. I’ve never seen him so angry. He frightened me. He frightened me beyond words. 

Nick smacked Mr. Thomas in the back of the head and said, 

“Dave, enough, come on man, there are kids here.” Nick took Mr. Thomas and handcuffed him and pushed him out the door.

“You’re a lucky mother fucker today, real lucky!” Dave said yelling out into the hallway then he turned to Mrs. Thomas.

“Ma’am, the EMS is coming up. Let me take the babies, okay?” He reached out to grab the baby.

“Ok, you know that’s police brutality, right?” Mrs. Thomas said as she cried. 

“Go stand over there…I don’t even want to get started on your ass…” he said to Mrs. Thomas exhausted and out of breath. He leaned over and placed his hands on his knees, breathing hard. He lifted his head and looked at me.

“It’s going to be ok. You’re safe now, you’re safe.” I said as I held her hand. Mrs. Thomas gave me a dirty look, handed the baby to Dave, pulled her hand away from me and walked away. I can’t

believe this bitch. Here I am sacrificing my life for her and her kids and she turns around and kicks me straight in the ass! Unbelievable! She probably loved her husband, unconditionally, with all

her heart and soul. But how could she? What about her kids? What about me mom? Did you ever once think about me!  We all went downstairs as we heard the sirens coming closer to the building.

I kept my hand on my belly. I was feeling faint. The ambulance was there waiting for us. Nick took Mr. Thomas in his patrol car, and I rode in the car with Dave to the hospital as the EMS took Mrs. Thomas and the kids.

“You ok?” he said as he rubbed my hand.

“How did you know where I was at?” I asked as my hands were shaking in his.

“I got part of your message, and then I called children’s services to see what appointment you had out in the field today. They gave me the address.

I told them you were in trouble,” he said just like a detective.

“Thank you, Dave.” I have to say I was nervous, and this episode was an awakening. I’d rather work for Dave any day of the week then do this again. This was dangerous and I can’t believe how

many people put their lives on the line to save our children and their families. “Dave, I don’t feel well.”

“Jen, what’s wrong? Dammit, Jen! You need a different job. This job is way too dangerous for a quiet girl like you,” he said seriously. 

“I love what I do. I saved her life. She could’ve been dead if I didn’t show up.” I glanced up at him, sadly, trying to make a point and take a stand, failing miserably. “I really don’t feel well,” I whispered.

“Well, you could’ve been dead if we didn’t show up. We want you safe.

Think about it. Change careers, do something else, please” he shook his head in disgust. “Jen?” I heard his voice but I didn’t respond. The cramping was so bad I had to inhale deeply to avoid

passing out. “Jen? Are you all right?” He gave my hand a tight squeeze then drove following the ambulance to the hospital. I turned my head and looked out of the window towards the ambulance

wondering if her kids felt safe. It was a trying night for me, and being pregnant made it all the worse. 

“I’m okay…I’m okay,” I whispered as the cramping intensified.

I went to the hospital and watched Mrs. Thomas’ kids. The baby was so beautiful. Hazel eyes like me and the chubbiest cheeks. The little girl was twirling her little green dress in the middle of the lobby and I still didn’t know her name. I glanced over at Dave who was talking to Nick on his cell

phone about Mr. Thomas. I just assumed so because he was cursing his head off and he was starting to lose his temper. I sat smiling and cooing at the baby when I was startled by a tall woman with

bleached blonde hair, blood red green eyes, craters in her face and her lips were cracked and white as if she just smoked crystal meth. We were trained to see the signs of drug users. She had a

butterfly tattoo on her face and the tail of the butterfly extended across to her ear. I held in the pain, ignoring my spasms that radiated to my back. I wanted to curl into a ball.