The California Saga (38 page)

 

 

The color bark brown does my body good in this suit,
I thought, admiring myself in my full-length mirror.
It's a shame this is the first time I've ever worn it
. I was dressed professionally with a touch of sexiness. I had to have my boobies hanging out just a little. Give them a little glimpse of what they can't have.

Before I left my apartment, I dabbed Versace Blue Jeans perfume behind my ears and my neck. I got a glimpse of my ass as I walked off.
Hell, if I didn't go super-duper psycho on Touch, he'd still be giving it to me from the back.
That nigga was only good for sex, which was what I craved.

When I walked into the courtroom, the most important eyes I cared about was Touch's. I wanted him to see what he had created and pay for what he had done. No one fucking hits me and gets away with it. He didn't even have the decency to apologize to me. That would have eliminated most of this. On top of that, his dumb ass had made it worse by antagonizing me and breaking into my house. I wanted him to get on his knees to beg for mercy and for my forgiveness. I fell asleep easily at night, knowing Touch wouldn't sleep as he constantly thought about what his new life would be like behind bars.

When I arrived in the courtroom the district attorney with his tuna fish breath pulled me to the side. He wanted to go over some last-minute details. I didn't listen to a word he was saying. I was searching the courtroom for Touch, who was nowhere to be found.

“All rise,” the bailiff announced. “The Honorable

J.B. Gordon.”

I was glad this show was finally starting. I was hoping Touch would be the first to go before the judge, so he could be the first to go to jail. I knew the look on his face would be priceless as soon as the judge announced his guilty verdict. And, after it was all said and done, I had plans to visit him in jail just to laugh and gawk in his face. He had to learn he'd fucked with the wrong one. There was no way he could get away with what he did to me. Touch treated me as if I was a piece of shit. No man had treated me like that, and I wasn't about to allow a man to treat me like that. I had been sitting on the court bench for over two hours, and my case still hadn't been called. Getting impatient, I looked at my watch. It was eleven-fifteen, and I still hadn't seen Touch. For a minute, I'd begun to think he'd bucked on court and decided to be on the run and leech off another chick, like he'd done me.

I decided to give him another fifteen minutes to show. No such luck. I gathered my things. I wanted to check the docket to be sure I was in the right courtroom.

Just as I was about to stand, the court doors opened, and Touch and his attorney walked through the doors like they owned the place. Touch was decked out in a suit. He walked toward the front of the courtroom with his hot-shot attorney. Our eyes met, and he looked away immediately. He was trying hard not to look my way. I knew he saw me because I was sitting at the end of the bench, near the aisle. I figured he was still pretty pissed off about the baby doll incident and our last altercation at my house.

We weren't called until after the lunch break. Sitting through all that court bullshit wasn't fun at all. And I was anxious to get it over with.

“The Commonwealth calls Lisa Platow to the stand,” the bailiff said.

I stood up and walked to the stand like I was walking the runway in Fashion Week. I positioned myself on the witness stand then looked at Touch with piercing eyes. My eyes were glued on him when the bailiff said his spiel about telling the truth, nothing but the truth, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I agreed and even nodded my head. But I was agreeing to tell my own version of the truth. Like they say, it's three sides to every story, your side, my side and the truth.

“Ms. Platow, would you explain to the court how you received your wounds?” the Commonwealth's Attorney asked.

“The defendant, Trayvon Davis, beat me, punched me, and kicked me, eventually causing me to have a busted nose,” I explained through cries. The night before I'd rehearsed this part over and over in the bathroom mirror, hoping the judge would believe me.

“Is this the first time you have been abused by the defendant?”

“No, it isn't.” I pulled a handkerchief from my purse and wiped my tears.

“How often would this occur?” The Commonwealth's Attorney was setting it up to go in for the kill.

“He would assault me in some form at least once a week. The simplest things would trigger it. If the defendant had a bad day or I did something that he didn't like, then he would punish me,” I lied.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

Next, it was Touch's lawyer's turn to question me. I knew he was about to attempt to dig into my ass, but I was determined not to lose my cool. The last thing I wanted to do was appear as the mad black woman I knew he was gonna try to make me out to be.

“Ms. Platow, how many times have you filed a police report for these so-called occurrences of domestic violence?”

“I'm not sure,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

“Well, maybe I can help you out. The only police report I see is the one recently filed along with your stolen vehicle. Never once, prior to this incident, did it mention physical violence. Nor did you go to the hospital. There are no hospital reports at all.” Touch's lawyer was really making me out to be a liar.

“I told the cop what happened to me. What more do you expect? I was afraid to call the police prior to this incident, and I was too ashamed to go to the hospital.” My palms had suddenly become sweaty.

“Ms. Platow, it's clear to me that you're just a scorned woman trying to get back at a man who you're in love but who's not in love with you.”

This lawyer was getting under my skin. Because I was afraid what may come out of my mouth, I remained silent, but I was sure my thoughts were written all over my face as I rolled my eyes.

“Your Honor, based on the huge lack of physical evidence, I move to dismiss this case. This case is frivolous and an obvious fraud.” Touch's lawyer walked away. “Ms. Platow, you may step down,” the judge ordered.

As I started to walk back to my seat, I realized I had just lost this battle. My hands couldn't stop shaking, not to mention my sweaty palms. Before taking my seat, I cut my eyes at Touch one last time, who sat calmly with a smirk across his face. The mere sight of his smug little ass made my blood boil.

“Please rise for the verdict,” the judge announced.

I listened as the judge announced a not guilty verdict for the assault charge and guilty for the stolen vehicle charge. He was sentenced to one year supervised probation. I couldn't believe my ears. Even if Touch was found not guilty on the assault charge, I at least expected him to get time for stealing my damn car.

I grabbed my purse and began to storm out of the courtroom. I met Touch at the courtroom door. “After you,” he said then began to laugh.

“Fuck you, Touch!” I yelled, totally losing my mind.

That laugh in my face was the last straw. I took off my five-inch stiletto heels and started beating Touch with it. I got in a few good jabs in his dick and face. Before I knew it, he had begun to bleed, and the bailiff was all over me. Before he was able to pry me off him, I'd managed to bite Touch in the face. The bailiff had saved him this time, but it wasn't over. This was just the beginning. I had it in for Touch, and he was gonna pay. I'd decided to take justice into my own hands. After I made bail and got myself out for contempt of court. Now I was doubly pissed.

 

 

My hands were starting to cramp as I sorted Touch's money into stacks of ones, fives, tens, twenties, and hundreds. It seemed like the stack of ones was always the smallest. Although I knew it wasn't right, and to some it may even be stealing, I would always take most of Touch's one-dollar bills for myself. By the time I was done, I'd have at least two hundred dollars in ones alone. Believe it or not, he never even missed them. As far as I was concerned, Touch owed me, and I deserved a little gift. Over time those extra ones added up to designer handbags, jeans, and shoes that I loved. And I never once took a fifty or a hundred-dollar bill. I knew my limit, and I wasn't about to push it.

After I separated the money and marked the large bills with a counterfeit pen, I slid it through the money counter. I thought back to those times I used to count each bill by hand. Talk about carpel tunnel and some major hand cramps! It took quite a bit of begging, but Touch finally bought a money counter.

Once I verified the amount and strapped it, I placed the money aside. Then I pulled out all the bills for the month and totaled them up. Things had really gotten behind, with Touch being on the run and then locked up. I was slowly getting out of debt with all the money coming in and was grateful that our bills were finally getting caught up. We would have been out of debt much sooner, but you know I needed to pamper myself. A girl needs her bags, shoes, jewelry, and clothes.

With Touch being in the drug name, it wasn't wise to put anything in his name, so everything fell on me. As soon as we stopped paying the bills, collectors were after me like I'd stolen something. My credit was ruined, and my bank account had a lien.

So I nearly jumped for joy as I grabbed enough money to pay all our past due bills in full. I counted out bills money and put the rest of the money in the vault in the basement. I walked to the vault with a permanent smile on my face.

I know people say money can't buy happiness, but it sure does make things a lot easier in life. Which in turn gives happiness. Not only that, money is the number one reason marriages fall apart, so what does that tell you? I noticed since Touch had been making a little money, things between us were getting a little better.

Our relationship wasn't the best, and we definitely still had our issues, but things were a little brighter. At least we had hope at this point. I still didn't feel we had gained back that love we'd had in the past, and we still weren't quite that dynamic duo of a team as we were in the past either. But I was grateful and hopeful that we were slowly making progress.

Rico had stopped calling and harassing me. Plus, those crazy-ass anonymous calls had ceased as well. I was no longer afraid to go outside to get the mail anymore or packing my gun just to go to the grocery store. I was even starting to feel safe without Touch in the house. I was feeling so good that I'd decided to do something special for him.

I whipped up a T-bone steak and scrambled eggs with cheese, his all-time favorite meal. I purposely had a grill built into the kitchen stovetop. It was nights like these that it came in handy. I popped open a bottle of Moët to enjoy with our meal and lit candles in the dining room, kitchen, bedroom, and even the stairs. Then I turned on some jazz music to create a relaxed mood in the house.

I didn't want to say much to Touch, except how much I truly loved him. Enjoying our food and riding the shit out of him was what both of us needed.

I threw on a flaming red lingerie set I'd ordered from Victoria's Secret and matching five-inch stilettoes. It was something about the color red that sent Touch into a sexual rage.

Just as I was finishing up the meal preparation I heard Touch pull up in the driveway. I turned down the lights and lit the candles on the table. The ones I placed throughout the house were already full flame. I was in need of Touch's dick. I was feeling an attraction for him I hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe it had something to do with all of the sexiness I had created in the house. It even made me think that just maybe the love was coming back.

I hurried to the bathroom to freshen up and give myself a quick look-over. When I was done Touch still hadn't come in the house. I began to get anxious, so I looked out of the window to see what was taking him so damn long. Touch had just gotten out the car, and to my surprise he had roses in his hands. I smiled, knowing this was going to be a good night for us.

I watched as Touch headed toward the front door. After he took only a few steps, I watched him fall down on the ground like he had been shot. Without thinking I grabbed the gun he gave me from the kitchen drawer. I rushed outside with gun cocked, ready to blast the first thing moving. As soon as I took a few steps out the door, out jumped a chick from the bushes with a huge gun the size of a rifle in her hand laughing hysterically. I didn't know what the hell was so funny, and I didn't have time to try and figure it out. I aimed at her without hesitation and pulled the trigger.

I opened my eyes after shooting the gun. To my surprise the chick was still standing there. Evidently my aim wasn't as good as I thought. Guess next time I should keep my eyes open when I fire.

“You crazy bitch!” The girl dropped her gun and hit the ground, covering up in a ball.

I was struggling to cock my gun again and put another bullet in the chamber when I heard Touch scream out, “Jewel, don't! It's not a real gun! She only has a BB gun!” He snatched the gun from me.

That's when I realized what was going on. This bitch had to be none other than Lisa. I picked up a tree branch and started running in her direction. Realizing she was about to get a beat-down of a lifetime, she ran toward her car.

“Your charges may have went away, but don't think I'm going to do the same!” Lisa screamed at the top of her lungs as she got in her car and sped off.

I chased after her. It didn't take me long to recognize I wouldn't catch her, so I gave up. I was furious as I stood in the middle of the street yelling all sorts of profanities at the top of my lungs. I was half-naked and making a fool out of myself in front of my neighbors. I began to walk back to the house, preparing to dig into Touch's ass.

“Jewel!” Touch yelled as I walked back toward the house. “Jewel!” he screamed again and began to rush toward me. “Jewel!” He tackled me to the ground like a football player.

“What the–”

Zoom!
A car sped by, interrupting my sentence.

Touch had just saved my life, pushing me out of the path of Lisa's vehicle. That psycho bitch was trying to run me over. That was it. She had finally pushed me to the limit. I wanted to grab my gun and shoot that bitch between her eyes just for fucking with us. I couldn't believe she had the nerve to come to my house. Then I began to wonder how she knew where I lived. My brain became flooded with all sorts of thoughts as I had a flashback to that baby doll incident.

“I can't take this shit no more!” I shoved Touch off of me with all my force. “Because of you thinking with your dick, you put my life in danger. Dumb ass! What if that car had actually hit me? And what if Lisa had a real gun?” I stood to my feet and began to walk away.

“Make her ass go away, Touch,” I yelled, looking back at Touch, who was a couple feet behind me.

“It's not that easy, Jewel,” Touch mumbled back.

“What do you mean? I've seen you make much bigger problems disappear. Why is Lisa any different? What? You got feelings for her or something?” I demanded to know as we walked in the house.

“Jewel, you're talking crazy. Don't worry. I got this. Go upstairs and lay down. You don't need to be getting all upset. It's not good for the baby.”

“Good for the baby? Are you fuckin' serious?” I got up in Touch's face. “How the fuck you gon' part your lips and tell me what's good for a damn baby? Me nearly getting ran over by a fuckin' car isn't good for the fuckin' baby. Nigga, please! Get the fuck outta here!” I shoved Touch in the head.

“Don't put your hands on me, Jewel,” Touch said, grabbing my wrist. He had a death grip on it, and I could feel my fingers getting numb from lack of blood flow.

“Or what?” I knew he was serious, but there was no way I was backing down. I was just as mad as he was and ready for war.

“Fuck this!” Touch said then pushed me into the wall while attempting to walk away.

As an immediate reaction, I started punching him in the chest. I had so much pent up aggression, and I was letting it all out on him.

“Jewel, stop!” Touch demanded as he tried holding me down.

“Why don't you stop acting like a fuckin' little bitch and start being a man? The old Touch would have never allowed this to happen. On top of that, I know this ain't the first time that bitch has been here. This is just the first time I've caught you and the bitch in action. Fuck you! You could never be the father of my damn child!”

Those were the last words I spoke before Touch scooped me up and slammed me on the table. I hit my head so hard that I was dizzy. Before that I'd always thought that seeing stars was a figure of speech, but now I know it's real.

I grabbed my head as I rose to my feet and noticed my hand was soaked in blood. Once I realized I was bleeding, it was like I'd immediately become possessed by a demon. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the first thing I saw. Lucky for Touch it was only a meat pulverizer, but I'd planned to pulverize his ass to death.

“Jewel, put that down, please. I'm sorry,” he began to beg. “Ah, damn! Baby, you're bleeding bad. Let me help you.” Touch tried coming near me with a towel in hand.

“Don't come near me!”

“Jewel, I know you're mad, and so am I. But right now you're bleeding really bad. Please, baby, let me help you.” Touch attempted to grab my arm.

“Get the fuck away from me!” I yelled like a crazed woman then started hitting him all over with the meat tenderizer. The blows landed with thuds. If his arms were a steak, they would be the most tender cut of meat you ever tasted.

When my arms got too tired to swing anymore, I dropped my weapon and ran upstairs. I didn't know where I was going, but my first instinct was to pack my bags, so that's what I did. Touch gave a half-hearted attempt to try and stop me, and that pissed me off even more. Instead he just stood there and watched me pack. I was in a daze as I packed and didn't even realize what I was packing, but once all of my Louis Vuitton bags were full, I grabbed them and headed out the door.

“Jewel,” Touch called out to me in his most pitiful tone.

He even sounded like he was crying, but I refused to look in his direction. Keeping my eyes focused on the door only, I walked right past him and into the garage. I hopped in my car and pulled out the driveway, never looking back. “Where the hell am I going to go now?” I shouted at the top of my lungs, tears streaming down my face. For thirty minutes I'd been driving in circles with no place to go. It was times like this I wish I had my mom to run to. My mom had moved back home to Panama years earlier, and not a day went by that I didn't think of her and miss her. She'd taught me all I needed to know about being the materialistic, gold-digging woman I was. I knew she was only a phone call away, but I didn't want to call her with this mess because she would be worried. There was nothing she could've done to help me at that point, and hearing her voice would have only made me sad.

I became lost in my thoughts as I hopped on the interstate, feeling alone and sorry for myself. Everyone I let close to me always let me down
.

The more I thought, the more realized the poor choices I'd made in friends and men. I couldn't understand how one person could get dealt such a bad hand in life. Why was I always letting people take advantage of me? Why did I put myself in these positions? Well, I'd had enough. I was no longer going to be taken advantage of. I turned up my radio and drove along with a renewed confidence.

Before long I'd gotten so wrapped up in the tunes of my iPod that I hadn't even realized 64 West had turned into 95 South, and it was getting close to midnight. Here I was in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. I was exhausted and needed a place to crash. Since Touch had been watching me pack, I wasn't able to take all of my cash during my rush to get out of the house. I didn't want to spend a chunk of the money I did have on some fleabag motel.

I wracked my brain trying to think of someone I knew in the area. That's when it hit me–my girl Shakira. She had recently moved to DC. Although I hadn't talked to her in nearly two years, she was my last option. Shakira and I were really close, but our friendship became distant due to the jealous ways of a previous friend of mine, Sasha. Sasha had played me and actually made me think I might be in love with her for a minute. Her conniving, jealous ass got in between Shakira and me and caused us to lose touch with one another. I'd always regretted not patching things up with Shakira, but I was too embarrassed to admit that Shakira had been right about Sasha's sneaky-ass. Shakira had warned me, but I didn't listen. I was too stubborn.