Defenseless (19 page)

Dorothy's eyes flashed her anger. “Don't ever let me hear you say that again. I don't regret what I did for you. I would do it all over again. It's worth every day I serve in here to see you make something of yourself. Do you know how much that means to me?”

Sonya turned away from her mother. This was too hard.

“Sonya, I know that I stayed with your father longer than I should have. I suffered all kinds of abuse, but the day I saw him trying to molest my baby…”

More tears sprang from Sonya's eyes as she remembered the day well…

 

“Sonya, get me another beer out of the refrigerator,” Darryl Walters bellowed the order to his daughter from the living room.

Thirteen-year-old Sonya angrily placed her pencil down on the kitchen table. She would never finish her homework at this rate.

She pulled out another beer and tiptoed into the living room. Her father was in a foul mood again. He had lost another job, so Sonya knew to try to stay out of his way. When she entered the living room to hand her father his beer, she noticed him glaring at her.

What did I do?
She looked at the bottle and realized that in her haste she forgot to remove the bottle top. She quickly raced back into the kitchen to remedy the problem. When she reentered the room, her father's eyes were still glued to her.

Slowly, she walked over to him, extending her arm, hoping that he would just take the bottle from her so she could get back to her homework.

Darryl Walters took the bottle from his daughter, but his penetrating glare never left her.

Sonya backed away, wanting to leave the room.

Her father smiled lazily at her, and Sonya knew then he was drunk. “How old are you now, Sonya?” He shut off the TV with the remote control.

“Th-Thirteen,” she answered. She prayed that Laura and her mother would hurry back from the grocery store.

“Thirteen? I bet you're driving the boys wild down at that school of yours, huh?”

Sonya shook her head. She felt her stomach clench in a hard knot. Her father's gaze left her face and traveled down her small frame.

“You have a boyfriend, Sonya?” His words slurred.

Sonya tried to swallow the lump enlarged in her throat. “No, sir.”

Her father stood up from his chair, and Sonya took two steps back. She was caught off guard the moment his arms snaked out and grabbed her.

She tried to fight him off. She kicked and bit him as hard as she could, but all she could hear was his sinister laughter echoing in her ears.

He jerked open Sonya's jeans just as the living room door jerked open to reveal her horrified mother.

 

Sonya blinked away her tears and looked back at her mother, sitting on the opposite side of the Plexiglass. “I can't wait until your release date. You, of course, will stay with me. It will be the three of us.”

A prison guard walked up to Dorothy. “Please visit me when there's more news.”

“I will,” Sonya promised. She continued to watch her mother as she was led out of the room.

When she was gone, Sonya placed her sunglasses back on and left. She walked down the stairs and across the lobby, unaware of Odell following close behind her.

D
wayne parked his car outside the Atlanta detention center and took a moment to calm down. Maybe he was overreacting. She may not even want his help.

“Are you all right?” Anthony asked.

Dwayne impulsively shook his head, but then contradicted himself. “Yes, I'm fine. Come on.”

The men stepped out of the car and headed toward the building. Dwayne's mind crowded with words he wanted to say to Sonya. There was no doubt in his mind that she wouldn't cooperate in leaving with him. He had to make sure he explained everything to her.

As they entered through the glass doors, a petite woman passed them. Anthony's head turned, then he collided into a brawny frame that nearly knocked him to the floor. “Excuse me,” Anthony said to the man—who didn't bother to stop.

Dwayne stopped, then turned to ask Anthony a question, when he noticed a familiar-looking man walking down the steps. The man seemed intent on his destination. Dwayne caught a glimpse of a young woman walking only two paces ahead of the stranger. She seemed nervous to him. She kept glancing from side to side but never turned around to check behind her.

Dwayne started back toward the door.

“What's wrong?” Anthony asked as he passed him.

Dwayne's eyes followed the short trim of her hair and down the small slope of her neck. When she made a full turn to face the building, his eyes rested on the gold chain that lay in the crescent valley of her breasts. He grabbed Anthony's shoulder. “There she is!”

Both men ran back outside. Dwayne's heart wedged in his throat the moment his eyes saw the gun the stranger pulled from his jacket.

 

Malik handed the picture of Laura to David. He had used the young boy for information before and found that the fifteen-year-old knew a lot of important information about the streets.

“I've never seen her before,” David said.

It was an obvious lie. Malik reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money.

David's eyes twinkled as he began to nod his head. “Well, maybe she does look familiar.”

“I thought she might.” Malik stopped at two hundred dollars before David remembered hearing about a job concerning Mrs. Durden.

“What kind of job?”

David flashed Malik a golden smile (only a few of the boy's teeth didn't have caps on them). “Word has it that she has something really valuable that somebody wants. The job was for somebody to retrieve it.”

“And you don't know what it is they're searching for?”

David held out his hand implying he needed more money for that piece of information.

Malik handed him another hundred dollars, only to be disappointed by his answer.

“No.”

Malik fought the urge to wring the teenager's neck. His clients had often criticized him for his expensive rates, but if they knew how much it cost to get people to talk on the streets, they would change their tune. “Do you know who accepted the job?” When the boy didn't answer, Malik's jaw flexed in anger.

“It's cool, it's cool,” he said, trying to pacify Malik. “I don't know, but I know who might be able to help you. Go down to William's Place. You know William Gainey?”

“Yeah, I know him.”

“Well, he might be able to help you out. He used to do some work for Frank.”

“Thanks.” Malik shoved the picture back into his jacket and looked toward his destination. This wasn't going to be easy. He and William had fallen out about two years back. He had doubts as to whether William would provide him with the information he needed.

Malik strutted down Henderson Avenue. He locked gazes with the many street thugs who questioned his presence on their turf. Although no one physically approached him, Malik knew he was being watched.

Malik entered the small pool hall, otherwise known as William's Place. The men stopped what they were doing to assess their new visitor. Malik knew the routine. Many just wanted to know whether or not he was five-o. He snatched his shades from his face and scanned the room, looking for William.

One man stood and walked boldly over to him. He was equal to Malik's height and build, but it didn't phase him a bit.

“What can I help you with?” the man asked. His stance said he was ready to rumble anytime.

“I'm here to see William.” Malik took the same stance.

“And who the hell are you?” the man challenged.

“Just tell him Malik wants to talk.” If the man recognized his name, he didn't show it. He just continued with the interrogation that Malik knew was routine.

“William's busy,” he lied.

“You didn't even check,” Malik said, losing his patience.

“I don't have to check. He's busy.” He gave Malik his back, and Malik knew it was a sign that he had to fight him in order to see William.

Malik grabbed the man's right shoulder and ducked just in time when the man immediately turned, swinging. Malik delivered a powerful uppercut that sent the man sprawling across a nearby pool table.

The men in the billiards room cheered Malik's attacker toward victory. Malik's opponent pulled himself up and landed some hard punches across Malik's jaw. But that was all he could do before Malik proved why no one messed with him. His attacker was covered with blood from open cuts across his face.

The cheering ceased, and Malik gave a final blow that knocked out his opponent. Malik saw a few men exchange money for bets laid on the short fight.

“Now can someone tell me where I might find William Gainey?” No one said anything. They just turned back to what they were doing. Suddenly there was a lone clapping sound coming from the back of the room. Malik turned to see who it was.

“Bravo,” the voice said.

Malik recognized the voice immediately. “William.”

“Hello, Malik. I see you're going to just stand there.” When Malik didn't respond, he said, “Now come on. Is that any way to greet your younger brother?”

 

Bridget parked her Jeep outside the detention center just as her father raced down the pavement with Anthony following close behind him.
Something is going on.
She quickly jumped out of the Jeep, momentarily startled to see a woman she was sure looked familiar.

“Sonya?” she called. When Sonya didn't respond, she was convinced she didn't hear her. That must be who her father was running after. “Sonya!” she called again.

This time Sonya did hear her. She took off her sunglasses and smiled. Just then, a man who was behind Sonya grabbed her roughly by the shoulder. Bridget raced to Sonya's aide.

Sonya struggled to pull herself from the man's grasp. Bridget didn't understand what was going on—she just realized Sonya was in trouble. Bridget reached Sonya's side and was able to successfully pull her protectively behind her.

Bridget heard her father scream her name just as the startled man aimed something toward her. An explosion caused a loud ringing in her ears. She saw Sonya's mouth move but heard no words. The ringing was getting louder. She looked down to see blood everywhere. She looked briefly toward her father, then felt herself falling into a dark cloud.

“B
ridget!” Sonya screamed. She tried to kneel beside the young girl but felt herself jerked up by the arm.

“You're going with me,” Odell commanded against her ear. Sonya turned—her eyes widened the instant she recognized Richard.

“Where's my sister?” She struck the sinister-looking man. However, he controlled her hands in an iron-tight grip.

He refused to answer and began to pull her unwilling body along with him. Sonya struggled to break free. She took another glimpse at Bridget's motionless body on the sidewalk.

In horror, a piercing scream erupted from her. She tried desperately to break away.

Odell couldn't drag Sonya far before Dwayne hurled his body against the man's back. When Odell released Sonya, she felt her skin scrape against the cement, yet she ignored her bruises and focused her attention on reaching Bridget. Sonya crawled to Bridget, forgetting the two men behind her.

“I'm going for help. Can you stay with her?” Anthony asked, making his way to her. When he received no response, he spoke louder and succeeded in getting Sonya's attention. “I'm going to get help.”

Sonya nodded and pulled Bridget's head into her arms. She pushed a few loose strands of hair from the young girl's face and studied her.
She's so young.
Visions of the vibrant girl projected in Sonya's mind. She remembered how her eyes lit up whenever she talked about her coin collection.
Please, God, don't take her now.

Sonya looked down to where Bridget's blood covered her shirt. Blinded by her tears, she removed her hand and saw that it, too, was covered with the sticky substance.
What have I done?
Sonya blamed herself for what had happened. The bullet wasn't meant for this innocent child.

Sonya lifted remorseful eyes toward Dwayne, who continued to pound on the man who shot his daughter.
When would this nightmare end?

Dwayne pulled himself from Odell's limp body. His vision centered on his daughter cradled between Sonya's possessive arms. He wasn't sure whether he walked or crawled over to them. He was only aware of Bridget lying so still.

He pulled her from Sonya and into his arms. He refused to look at Sonya. “Bridget, baby. It's me, Daddy. Wake up. It's time to go home.” When she didn't respond, her angelic face blurred from the tears that escaped his eyes. “Bridget, please,” he moaned.

Dwayne buried his face in her soft hair. That's when he heard it. She was breathing. Suddenly there were swarms of people surrounding him, trying to coax him to release Bridget into their care. He looked at the police officers and nurses who had scrambled from the detention center to try to help him.

“Sir, please let us take her,” a strange woman said to him. But he couldn't let Bridget go. “Sir, please.”

It took some coaxing before the officers successfully eased his daughter out of his arms, but Dwayne followed close behind them.

“Where are you taking her?” he asked with his voice thick with emotion.

“We're going to have to take her to Grady,” a nurse answered.

“I'm riding with her. I'm her father.” Dwayne saw a pair of flashing lights and was relieved that help arrived so soon.

The paramedics arrived and had Bridget secured in the ambulance within a matter of minutes. He climbed aboard the ambulance without a backward glance.

Sonya's hand covered her mouth as she watched Dwayne and Bridget leave.
What have I done?
Guilt consumed her heart. When Sonya felt a heavy hand on her shoulder, she swirled around to face Anthony. Relieved, she sought comfort in Anthony's outstretched arms.

She didn't know how long she remained in his embrace, but she felt grateful that he was patient enough to let her. “Thank you,” she finally said, withdrawing from him.

“There's no need to thank me, Miss Walters. Are you all right?”

Sonya nodded. It was a lie, but she refused to seek further comfort from him.

“Excuse me?” a voice asked from behind.

They turned to see an officer.

“I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you some questions.”

Sonya glanced toward the heavens. It seemed that talking to policemen was becoming a constant occurrence lately.

“Of course,” Anthony said, giving the officer his complete attention.

Sonya, however, glanced to where her attacker had lain. Fear grabbed her heart. “Anthony,” she said, tugging on his arm.

“Yes?” he asked, looking down at her.

Sonya pointed to where she had last seen her assailant. “He's gone!”

 

Malik clasped hands with his brother. Their dark gazes locked. His brother stood at an even six feet. His black skin matched his eyes. It had been a long time. However, he could see that not much had changed with his brother. He was still playing the street game.

“It's good to see you,” Malik lied effortlessly.

“It's good to see you, too. You wanna drink?” William said, taking a chair.

Malik watched the men that encircled his brother and assumed they were his bodyguards. “Sure, I have a few minutes to kill.”

William smiled. He seemed pleased by Malik's answer. “Robert—” he signaled to the bartender “—bring us two forties.”

Malik shook his head at his brother. He knew William would never change. He took years to build a reputation on the streets. And he wasn't about to walk away from it now. But Malik knew that his life on the streets would only lead to one thing. Death.

He knew all too well the life expectancy on Atlanta's hard streets was age twenty-five. His brother had just reached that peak.

“What brings you to my side of town, bro?” William asked.

“Let's just say I heard that you could probably help me with a favor.”

William lifted an amused brow. “You're coming to me for help? Well, if that don't beat all.”

Robert arrived with their two beers.

“Stranger things have been known to happen,” Malik replied.

William took a long gulp of beer, then said, “Tell me your problem, and I'll see if I can help you.”

Malik reached into his jacket and pulled out the bent picture of Laura. “I'm looking for her,” he said, tossing the picture onto the table.

William glanced at the picture, uninterested. “Never seen her.”

Malik expelled a long sigh and propped his elbows on the table. “Cut me a break, William. We grew up with her in Techwood. Now tell the truth. Do you know where she is?”

William gave a small smirk and shook his head. “You'll never change, Malik.”

“Neither will you. Now, have you seen her?”

William leaned in as if he had a secret to tell. Malik followed suit.

“Maybe,” was his soft response.

Malik restrained himself from wrapping his hands around William's neck. He didn't want to play a guessing game with him but knew that this was William's style.

“When do you think you'll be arriving at a decision? Either you have or you haven't.”

“Patience, my dear brother, patience. Drink your beer.”

Malik grabbed the bottle and took a sip. The last thing he wanted to do was to let William pump him with beer. He placed the bottle down and tried his interrogation again.

“I don't have much time on this case, William. Can you help me?”

William leaned his elbows on the table and formed a temple with his hands. “What makes you think I can help you?”

Malik's patience went out the window. He hated when William would answer a question with another question.

“Word on the street is you pull jobs for Frank.”

William's jaw twitched as Malik realized he had hit a nerve.

“Who told you that?”

Malik smiled, trying to cover his anger. “I have my contacts. Why are you working for Frank again?”

William held Malik's steady gaze. “Let's just say I owed him a favor.”

“William, you know you'll never finish repaying Frank for one of his
favors.
”

“Are you playing the concerned brother?” William asked, with disgust shining in his eyes.

“I'm not here to discuss family problems with you, William. You chose your own destiny,” Malik said seriously.

The two men were silent for a moment, then William broke out in a wide grin. “So now you need my help?”

“Enough of the cat chase, William. Have you seen her?”

William took another long sip of his beer and looked around the billiard room, then looked back into Malik's intense gaze. “Yeah, I've seen her.”

 

Sonya and Anthony repeated to the police the events that occurred for the third time. But no one seemed concerned that the attacker had gotten away.

The officer asking the questions put an APB out on the fleeing assailant, but something wasn't right.

Anthony gave her smiles of encouragement, but she felt everything but safe. It seemed strange to sit between police officers and still feel like an open target.

She wasn't too surprised to see Sergeant Freeman arrive on the scene. He pulled up and asked a nearby officer a question. The officer pointed toward her, and the sergeant made his way over to her.

“Ah, Miss Walters. Why is it whenever there is a disturbance in the area, I can almost count on your being in the midst of it?” Sergeant Freeman asked with a stiff grin.

“Probably because you're assigned to every case, no matter where it's located. At least I know this is in your jurisdiction,” Sonya answered with razor-sharp sarcasm.

“What happened this time?” he asked, ignoring her contempt.

“Richard.”

“Your brother-in-law?” Freeman cocked his eyebrow.

“The impostor.” Sonya wrapped her arms around herself as if to protect herself from him.

Freeman walked over to the officer who'd questioned her earlier, then returned, frowning.

“Did you find out where your sister is?”

Sonya shook her head at the ridiculous question. “No, we didn't have time to exchange civil conversation.”

Freeman gave her a hard look, which Sonya returned.

“Are you ready to accept police protection now, Miss Walters, or do you want to wait until someone is killed?”

Sonya glanced around at the police that were busy searching the crime scene. When she turned her attention back to Freeman, she noticed Freeman's eyes glued to her neck. Sonya closed her jacket. “I think I'll stay with Mr. Hamilton,” she answered, shocked by her declaration. The truth was, she felt safe with him, and she should have remained under his protection. But the sight of him holding Carmen in his private study still pained her.

“Are we free to go now, Sergeant?” Anthony interrupted.

The sergeant looked from Sonya to Anthony and nodded. “But perhaps, Miss Walters, you should keep in contact with the department.”

Sonya looked at him oddly.

“In case we get word on your sister,” he offered as an explanation.

Sonya nodded and allowed Anthony to pull her away from Sergeant Freeman.

 

Much later Sonya arrived at the sixth floor of Grady Hospital. She headed straight to the waiting room with Anthony. She saw Dwayne sitting alone with his hands clasped over his head. She immediately ran over to him. She stopped, however, when he lifted his head and locked gazes with her.

The pain she saw reflected in his eyes tore at her soul as she took a brave step forward. His face, at first, seemed hard. She feared that he would turn her away, but then his expression softened, and he reached out and pulled her closer to him.

Sonya couldn't move. She just stroked the top of his head as it lay flat against her stomach. She kneeled down in front of him to look into his eyes.

“I'm so sorry.” Her lower lip trembled from both guilt and heartache.

Dwayne said nothing as he leaned in until their foreheads touched. There, in their secluded space, Sonya watched his silent tears stream down his face. She thought nothing of being there to comfort him.

When Anthony sat two seats down from them, Sonya felt Dwayne grow tense. She reached up and smoothed away his tears. She knew that he would put up a brave facade in front of another man.

Dwayne pulled away from her, but kept both of her hands locked securely in his. She read the look of uncertainty in his eyes. His expression gave him a childlike appearance. She wished she could console that child but didn't know how.

Sonya stood and sat next to him while they continued to hold hands.

“How is she doing?” Anthony asked.